A.R. Winters - Tiffany Black 03 - Red Roses in Las Vegas

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by A. R. Winters


  “I know,” I said, and glanced at the clock. “Do you think it’s too late to make some phone calls?”

  “Nah, they’re probably still at the party.”

  I didn’t think so. In my experience, stuffy, boring parties tended to wind down early but, then again, I had no experience with these kinds of posh galas. For all I knew, maybe the women were still over there, dancing the night away. Or maybe they’d headed over to some other glitzy after-party.

  “Give them a call,” Ian said, his eyes glimmering with hope.

  He was right – I should call them now. An hour wasted, or a night wasted, was not something I could afford anymore.

  I called Rachel Nge first, and my call went straight to voicemail. Nicole Weiss was next, and once again, I hit voicemail.

  I left the same message for both: “This is Tiffany Black. I’ve got the photos Adam Bitzer took of you. Call me.” I left my number and hung up.

  When I called Michelle Ackermann, I got the same annoying man who’d answered the first time I’d called her. “Michelle Ackermann’s phone.”

  “Hey,” I said, talking into the speakerphone. “Don’t you get the night off?”

  There was a stony silence, and then he said, “Who’s this?”

  “Tiffany Bl—”

  “Oh, right, I remember you, honey. Michelle’s not going to talk to you.”

  “Tell her it’s urgent. I’ve got the photos Adam Bitzer took of her.”

  There was a hesitant pause, and he said, “Hang on.”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance, and I “hung on” for just a few seconds, and then Michelle answered. “What?”

  “Did I mention I’ve got those photos Adam took of you?”

  There was a long silence, and then Michelle said, “What do you want?”

  “Where are you, anyway? How come you’ve got your assistant still around?”

  “I’m at a bar,” Michelle growled. “The party was boring so some of us came round to Fisherman’s, for champagne. What do you want?”

  “Right. What do I want. See, right now, I’ve got good motive for you to kill Adam. So I figured you’d want to help me out, maybe tell me anything else you know about him?”

  “I don’t know about him. He was the one stalking me.”

  “Really? And how’d that happen?”

  She snorted, and even over the phone, I could see the look of derision on her face. “I don’t know, he met me at some party and then the next thing I know, we’re having drinks and he’s showing me all these photos of me and Miguel together. I can’t risk my marriage, obviously, so I pay him.”

  “Doesn’t your husband see the payments?”

  “Don’t be silly, it’s from my account, my money.”

  “Right.” So that was the difference between her and Alexia, she had her own, separate accounts. Michelle had been right, a woman couldn’t make it in that crowd unless she had her own money. “And then what?”

  “I don’t know, I just kept sending him money. I don’t even look at it, it goes automatically.”

  “Right. When was the last time you talked to Adam?”

  “I don’t. I never talk to him, I don’t want Fred getting jealous.”

  “But you must’ve seen him around?”

  “I saw him at those parties and I make a point of not talking to him. Made, now that he’s dead.”

  “Yeah, now that he’s dead, life’s probably a lot easier for you.” Next to me, Ian was smiling and nodding furiously.

  “Look, it was a lot of money and it was annoying, so yeah, it is actually easier for me. I’m glad he’s dead.”

  “So maybe you killed him.”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t risk my marriage, you think I’d risk my neck to kill some loser? No way.”

  “Where were you last Friday night? Marquee at the Cosmo, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Are you sure? Because I’ve run your photo and nobody remembers seeing you.”

  This was a bluff, and Michelle didn’t seem bothered by it. “Check the cameras, then,” she said. “I was there.”

  It was my turn to be silent. Ian was frowning, as surprised as I was by Michelle’s confidence, and she used this opportunity to say, “Is that it? Because I’m hanging up now. I don’t want you calling me again. And don’t get any funny ideas about those photos.”

  She hung up, and I glared at the phone. It was tempting to think of something creative to do with those photos, but I let the thought go. I wasn’t vindictive, and while Michelle was annoying, blackmail was illegal and would get my PI license revoked.

  I’d just hung up, when Nicole called me back.

  I hit the speakerphone button so that Ian could listen in, and Nicole said, “Whaddya mean, photos Adam took of me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  There was silence for a few seconds while Ian and I smiled at each other and she contemplated the situation. “Well?” Nicole said finally. “What do you want?”

  “Just some more info about Adam Bitzer.”

  I went through the drill, asking her about Adam and how they’d met and what was going on, but I got the same responses Michelle had given me. Adam had met Nicole at a party, had turned up with a bunch of compromising photos, and had extracted money from her in exchange for his silence. Yes, she was happy about his death, but she stood by her alibi – her husband and housekeeper would back her up, she said.

  I hung up, feeling baffled by the conversation, and from the look on Ian’s face, so was he.

  “Maybe one them killed Adam,” he said, “But they hired someone to do the job.”

  “That can’t be,” I said. “The Mob would know about it, and Nanna’s friend would’ve told me. Whoever killed Adam did it by themselves.”

  We were staring at the floor morosely, when my phone rang again.

  “I got your message,” said Rachel Nge. “What’s going on?”

  “Why don’t you tell me? How’d you know Adam?”

  “He met me somewhere, some party.”

  “And then?”

  “Look, you seem to know the rest, so why’re you asking me?”

  “Because it looks like you’re pretty happy he’s dead, right?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  Ian and I exchanged a glance. “So… we’ll have to give this information over to the cops, and we’ll have to check your alibi.”

  “Look.” There was a pause, and then she went on, in a slightly more desperate tone. “There’s no reason to tell the cops. You can check my alibi yourself – I was home all night with Steven.” I didn’t say anything and she went on after a short pause. “Look, obviously it was worth a lot of money to me for Steven not to know about this. I can pay you, if that’s what you want.”

  “That’s not what I want,” I said. “The money means nothing to me. When was the last time you saw Adam?”

  “I might’ve seen him at some bar. He was having drinks with some guys, but we didn’t talk to each other. I try not to talk to that sleazebag.”

  “So… you didn’t talk to him recently?”

  “No, of course not. The guy’s scum.”

  “And… you stand by your alibi?”

  “Yes. And I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t say anything to anyone else about the photos.”

  I sighed. “I’ll call you if I need anything.”

  “Of course,” she said, “Anything at all. I can make it happen.”

  “Can you get this case lifted for my nanna?” There was silence and I said, “Yeah, I thought not. Thanks anyway.”

  I turned to Ian after I hung up.

  “Now what?” he said, looking as baffled as I felt. “Everyone seems innocent.”

  “Maybe it was Alexia.” I frowned. “She said she was at The Spearmint, but maybe she’d taken the night off. Or left early.”

  “I guess we need to check the alibis,” Ian said, and I frowned and shook my head.

  “I don’t thi
nk it’s a question of alibis. If anyone’s lying, they’ve already covered their tracks. And they all seem to… I don’t know, they all seem pretty sure that they’re not a suspect.”

  “Do you think it’s someone else? I guess I could ask Cynthia to look for more bank statements.”

  “That’s a good idea,” I said, looking at Ian in surprise. “Maybe there was someone else who he’d blackmailed.”

  Ian beamed and said, “Why don’t I call Cynthia?”

  “No, no,” I said quickly. “I should call her.” I frowned. “But before that… Adam’s brother, Mike. He knew all these women, Rachel, Nicole, Michelle and Alexia. If there’s someone else, maybe he knows about it.”

  We looked at each other, and then we looked at the clock. It was late, but it was worth a shot.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Mike Bitzer’s house was dark, as was every other house on the street.

  I killed my engine and stepped out, feeling a little guilty for destroying the peace.

  “Maybe he’s not even at home,” I whispered to Ian.

  “Maybe,” he whispered back, and we stepped quietly towards the front door, trying our best to blend into the dark quietness.

  I pressed the buzzer, and we heard it ringing in the house. Or maybe it was just my imagination. The house seemed dead, and I pressed the buzzer again.

  I thought I heard footsteps, and then a light went on and I took a step back just as Mike opened the door and blinked out at us sleepily.

  “What’s going on?” he said softly, glancing back inside the house. “Is everything ok?”

  “Yeah,” said Ian, as we stepped inside, uninvited.

  “Sorry about bothering you,” I said softly. “It’s just… we’re running out of time.” Mike gave me a puzzled look, and I didn’t feel like explaining. “Did you know that your brother was blackmailing a bunch of women?”

  Mike looked from me to Ian, and then back at me. He was wearing blue and white striped pajamas, and his feet were bare. His eyes were sleep-ridden, and an expression of annoyance was starting to creep over his features.

  “Mi-ike?” called a feminine voice from inside the house. “Who is it? Is everything ok?”

  “It’s fine,” Mike called back. “Just stay in bed, I’ll be right back.”

  I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Claire.”

  I crossed my arms and Ian said, “Yeah. You’ve got some other woman here. Who is it?”

  Mike sighed, and gestured towards the living room. “Let’s sit down.”

  He switched on the light and we arranged ourselves on the spotless white sofas, the cream rug gleaming up at us from the floor. “What’s going on?”

  “I found out–”

  “Before that,” Ian said, interrupting me. “What the hell’s going on with this woman? Who is she?”

  Mike narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. I wondered if we were doing the right thing by bothering Mike about this woman, so I quickly said, “I’m sure it’s none of our business.” I gave Ian a warning look, and he shrugged. “Back to Adam. Did you know he was blackmailing these women?”

  “Nicole Weiss,” supplied Ian. “Michelle Ackermann. Rachel Nge and Alexia Boyle.”

  “I had no idea,” said Mike. “I just… when you asked about them, I thought maybe they were just friends of Adam’s.”

  “Well, they were more than just friends,” Ian said. “Who else was he blackmailing?”

  “Huh?” Mike looked at us blankly. “This is the first I’m hearing about this.”

  “Really?” I looked at him carefully. He really did look clueless. “Are you sure you’d never heard about this? Maybe some other woman was threatening Adam, maybe Adam was following someone around?”

  Mike shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve got no idea about that. And to tell the truth, I’m finding it a bit hard to believe. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he glanced at the clock. “It’s really late. I need to get to bed, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

  “Really?” said Ian. “You’re not just kicking us out because of the woman in your bedroom?”

  “Yeah,” I said slowly. “Who is she?”

  “That’s none of your business,” he said brusquely, standing up. “You guys need to go.”

  “Maybe Claire should know about this woman,” said Ian.

  Mike looked at Ian steadily, and after a few seconds he said, “Are you threatening me?”

  “No,” said Ian. “Just making a suggestion.”

  There was another pause, and then Mike said, “Claire and I have an open marriage. She won’t care about this.”

  I didn’t buy the open marriage thing for a second, but I didn’t feel like pushing it. “Where is Claire, by the way?” I said. “Pretty convenient that you’ve got the house to yourself, like this.”

  Mike glared at me. “Claire’s in LA, she’s got a meeting with some senator there.”

  “Right. And when’s she coming back?”

  “Tomorrow, sometime.” He glanced at the clock again. “Look, I really need to get back to sleep.”

  “You know what,” Ian said slowly, “I reckon it was you.”

  “What?” Mike said, and we both turned to him.

  Ian nodded. “We know Adam was a blackmailer. We know you’re sleeping around, and we know Claire doesn’t know.” Mike started to say something, and Ian interrupted. “Oh, please. Spare me the open-marriage bull. Truth is, you’re dependent on Claire’s money and her career, and you can’t let her divorce you.”

  “I make a lot of money as a nurse,” Mike said, narrowing his eyes and looking as though he’d like Ian to vaporize on the spot.

  Ian snorted. “Sure, but it’s nothing like the kind of cash Claire’s inherited. So Adam found out about your little secret, took a few photos, and told you that you’d better pay up. Or else.”

  “Or else what?” Mike said, looking at us incredulously.

  “Or else.” Ian waved his arms about. “He’d tell Claire. You could kiss the easy life goodbye.”

  “Hunh.” Mike looked at us, his eyes seething with disbelief. “The easy life. I’ve got a five a.m. shift tomorrow, so you guys better scram. I need to enjoy the easy life.”

  “Where were you,” I said slowly, “last Friday night?”

  Mike laughed, a short, disbelieving laugh. “Are you two idiots, seriously, accusing me of killing my own brother? Are you guys nuts, or what?”

  I looked at Ian, and knew we were both thinking the same thing. We weren’t the ones who were nuts – it was Mike.

  “Get out,” said Mike, walking over to the front door and opening it for us. His eyes were blazing with suppressed fury, and I was starting to feel a bit nervous.

  We walked to the door, and I was the first to step out.

  “But where were you?” Ian said. “Really.”

  “Nebraska. Taking care of my friend’s dad. While my brother was killed.”

  He slammed the door shut, and Ian and I stood there for a few seconds, watching the lights go off in the house.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “It was him,” Ian said, as I drove back to our building. “I know it was him.”

  I knew it too. But he had an alibi – an alibi that put him three states away.

  “You need to check his alibi,” Ian said, as though he’d read my mind.

  We headed into my condo, and I made us both mugs of hot coffee, and called Stone.

  “Hey,” he said, picking up after one ring. “What’s up? How was your party?”

  I frowned. “How’d you hear about that?”

  “Your nanna told me. Did you and Jack have a good time?”

  He said Jack as though it were a dirty word and I decided not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

  “It was nice,” I said. “But I need a big favor.”

  “Like?”

  “Do you have any contacts in Homeland Security?”

  “Hmm. Depends on what you need.”

  �
�I need someone to check flight records. And why are you still up? Don’t you sleep?” It was almost three a.m.

  I heard the smile in Stone’s voice. “I do sleep. Just not when I’ve got work.”

  “Can you find the records?”

  “Who’d you want to check?”

  “Mike Bitzer,” I said. “He claims he left last week for Nebraska and got back on Sunday.”

  “And you don’t believe him?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m on it,” Stone said, and hung up.

  “When do you think we’ll know?” Ian asked, sipping his coffee.

  “I’m not sure.”

  We both looked at the clock, wondering if we should get some sleep. But my pulse was racing and I wasn’t sure I could sleep even if I wanted to. Mike was our guy – I could feel it. Now I just needed some proof. The flight records would be a start. Maybe someone saw him heading into Adam’s office, or maybe he had the murder weapon lying around somewhere in his house.

  Ten minutes later, Stone called back.

  “So?” I asked eagerly. “What’d you find out?”

  Ian looked at me eagerly, and I wondered if I should put the phone on speaker. Before I could press the speakerphone button, Stone said, “Not much. My guy’s got the night off.”

  “Oh.” I tried to hide my frustration. “What does that mean?”

  “It means he’s going to work tomorrow, and he’ll check things out then. Get some sleep now.”

  “Yeah,” I said, hanging up with sigh.

  I’d come so close – and now we were asked to wait again.

  “What’d he say?” Ian asked, and I turned to face him with disappointed eyes.

  “The guy’s not at work. Stone thinks we should get some sleep.”

  “It is late.”

  “Yeah.”

  We glanced at the clock and continued to sit there.

  “You know,” Ian said. “Maybe he’s got the murder weapon somewhere in the house.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” I turned to Ian. “If we can find it, that’s proof that Nanna’s innocent.”

  “We just need to find the gun.”

  I nodded. “If it’s in the house, we just need to…”

  I let my words trail off and Ian said, “Didn’t Jack teach you how to break into places?”

 

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