The Goddaughter Does Vegas

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The Goddaughter Does Vegas Page 3

by Melodie Campbell


  “Peaches?” said Nico.

  “This isn’t happening,” I muttered. I parked my butt back down on the bed.

  “I really think we should find out what’s going on,” said Nico. He walked to the door.

  “Don’t open it,” I ordered. Thank goodness I was here with Nico. He would never open the door if I asked him not to.

  He opened the door.

  SEVEN

  Ten minutes later I wasn’t the only one groaning. I was still sitting on the bed. Jerry sat in a chair across from me, looking crestfallen. Nico sat beside him in another chair.

  Jerry was actually a really nice guy. He had a lot of money and appeared to be generous. He was about three decades too old for me, but that wouldn’t stop a lot of women.

  Too bad I wasn’t the gal he thought he’d been corresponding with. Too bad for him, I mean.

  “So let me get this straight,” said Nico. “You met this impostor Gina Gallo on a website called Sugar Daddy dot com.”

  “That’s right,” said Jerry. “She was… well, she was wonderful. My ideal woman. It wasn’t just the photo. I loved her online personality. She was very feminine and gentle. Kind and sweet.”

  “So definitely not our Gina,” said Nico, snickering.

  I gave him the finger.

  “Definitely not like that.” Jerry looked horrified. Well, at least he was beginning to believe I wasn’t the same woman.

  “Of course, I knew there was an age difference. But she didn’t seem to care,” said Jerry.

  Of course she didn’t. She was after money, not a relationship. I said it to myself, though, because the poor guy was suffering enough. Not only was he the victim of a scam, but he’d also just found out that the love of his life had never existed. How awful.

  “So when she said she could meet me in Vegas, I was only too happy to send her a check for the airline ticket.”

  “First-class, of course,” said Nico, leaning forward.

  Jerry nodded. “What else, for my sweet Peaches? And the five-hundred-dollar fee for crossing the border.”

  “What fee?” asked Nico. “We don’t have a border fee.”

  “Oh, I am such a schmuck,” said Jerry. He lowered his head to his hands.

  I was amazed at how small his hands were. No larger than mine. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. I felt truly sorry for him.

  But I was also worried for me. At least now we knew what was going on. Someone had stolen my Facebook photo and was impersonating me on a site called Sugar Daddy dot com. This was identity theft on a grand scale. Thing was, how far did it extend?

  “Jerry, I’m worried this might be part of a bigger scam. She may have conned other men.” In fact, I knew she had. Ernie with the flowers, for one. “Is there anything you can tell us about her that could help us find out who she really is?”

  “How do we know it’s a she?” asked Nico. “The impostor could be a man.”

  Jerry almost collapsed at that point. His bones seemed to go limp. He flopped back in the chair, making snuffling sounds.

  “Oh, that’s just awful,” he said after a few moments. “I’ve been corresponding with a man? Talking lovey-dovey with a man?”

  “We don’t know that,” I said quickly. I tried to signal Nico with my eyes. “I expect it was a woman. Someone who knew just how to appeal to you.”

  “She sussed out my preferences pretty quickly,” Jerry admitted. So he wasn’t stupid. He was just smitten. Jerry sat up straighter but still looked shaken. “I think I’ll go back to my room now, if you don’t mind.”

  I exchanged glances with Nico. Would Jerry report this to the police?

  He seemed to be reading our minds. “I’m not feeling very well at the moment. I just want to forget about all this, to be honest.” He rose unsteadily from the chair. “I’m really sorry this happened, and for my part in it. I know it affects you too.”

  He kept his eyes off mine. I did the same. The click of the door told me he was gone.

  “Poor guy. He forgot his flowers,” said Nico.

  EIGHT

  After that depressing incident, I didn’t feel much like going out. Vegas was party central. I wasn’t in a party mood.

  “What should we do with all these flowers?” asked Nico.

  “Why don’t you remove the tags and put them outside another door?” I suggested. “Someone will get a nice surprise.”

  “Good idea,” he said. He got busy and left the room.

  A few minutes later he was back.

  “I’ll let Stoner know about this impersonator on Sugar Daddy dot com. It may be related to the Amazon thing,” said Nico. “So the big question is…do we tell Pete about this?”

  “No!” I said. “Not a word.” The last thing I wanted was to ruin his time in Vegas.

  “He may find out anyway,” said Nico cryptically.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Nico yawned. “It’s getting late,” he said. His cell phone chirped.

  I rose from the bed and glanced out the window. Twilight had morphed into full night. Not that it ever got dark on the strip. In the distance a zillion lights twinkled frantically, as if they were competing with one another.

  “That was Salvo,” said Nico. “I’m pretty beat. So I told him we’d meet him tomorrow.”

  “Do you want to order room service for dinner?” I said.

  Nico stretched his arms and yawned a second time. “Good idea. I caught the earliest flight this morning. Had to get up way before dawn. Plus there’s a three-hour time difference. So it’s later than it seems.”

  Pete arrived when the food did. We munched away on the best steak dinners the Crematorium Grill had to offer. They weren’t even burned.

  Nico made his exit after that. “Catch you in the morning, cuz,” he said. He blew me a kiss and then waved to Pete.

  When he was gone, I turned to Pete. “Everything set for the wedding?”

  Pete grinned. “All set. You won’t get out of it this time.”

  I opened my arms to him.

  My cell phone rang the next morning. It woke me from a deep sleep. I looked around to see why Pete wasn’t answering it. He was in the bathroom. I groaned and reached for the phone on the bedside table.

  “Hey, darlin’, it’s me!” said the cheery voice at the other end. “All ready for the big event?”

  “Lainy!” I yelled into the phone. “It’s so good to hear you!” Lainy is my best friend. We met at college. That’s when she started her band, Lainy McSwain and the Lonesome Doves. Hard to believe that was ten years ago. She topped the country-music charts with her big hit “You’re Roadkill on My Highway of Life.” Now I only get to see her when she’s between concert tours and gigs in Vegas.

  “Yeah, texting and email just ain’t the same. Say, I’m going to be tied up here most of today, but I’ve cleared everything for tomorrow. And hey! Have I got a bridesmaid dress that will knock your socks off.”

  We agreed to meet the next day at one. That would give us lots of time to blab our hearts out and get me dressed for the wedding. Of course, Nico would be along too. But that was just fine. Nico and Lainy are kindred spirits.

  I clicked off with a big grin.

  When Pete came out of the bathroom, I was already diving into breakfast. Actually, make that brunch. It was nearly eleven. Eggs, bacon, hash browns and coffee. All on a little tray with flowers in a vase.

  “Isn’t room service the best?” he said.

  “I was born for this.” I happily munched away.

  “Say, would you mind if I went to the gym for a while? Checked it out on my way back to the room last night. It’s pretty awesome. Punching bags and weights. I haven’t worked out in a few days.” He stretched his arms in the air as if to work out the kinks.

  “No problem.” I was busy smearing red jam on toast. “I’m meeting Nico this morning. And more relatives.”

  “More relatives,” Pete muttered. Before he left for the gym, we made a
date to meet in the lobby later, to see the sights.

  I had a shower and blow-dried my hair. Today we would be sightseeing. This called for casual clothes and flat shoes. I pulled on black pants and a deep-blue sweater I knew Pete liked.

  Nico bounced into the room while I was strapping on my watch. It startled the heck out of me to see the door swing open.

  “Just me,” he called out. Today he was wearing all black. Black jeans, black turtleneck and black leather jacket. The somber hotel theme was safe from Nico’s parrot wardrobe.

  “Wasn’t that door locked?” I asked.

  “Oh, that.” Nico waved a hand in the air. “Salvo made me an extra entry card for your room.”

  “You’re kidding.” Honestly. This was a bit much. My new relatives were as bad as my old ones.

  “Never mind about that,” said Nico. His eyes were wide. “I just heard back from Stoner. And you’re not going to like it.”

  “Okay.” I sucked in air. “Give it to me straight.”

  Nico cleared his throat. “Remember when you had your credit-card number stolen last month?”

  “I remember. How could I forget?” Mario, my doofus cousin, had sold my credit-card number in a scam the family had going. He was prone to making mistakes. Unfortunately, you don’t get very far in the mob business if you steal credit-card numbers from your own family. Nico liked to say that Mario was out for a pee break when God handed out brains.

  “Stoner says the person who bought the card number would have been able to find out your address and phone number. As well as your name, birth date and other goodies. In fact, everything they would need to impersonate you on Amazon and Sugar Daddy dot com.”

  A feeling of cold crept up my back. “So all this goes back to Mario screwing up? Freakin’ hell!”

  Nico cluck-clucked. “That boy can’t get anything right.”

  A worse thought came to me. “But Nico, is this it? What did Stoner say? Is this as far as it goes?”

  “Don’t know yet. We need to be alert.”

  I threw up my arms. “Oh, great. Now what’s going to happen?”

  Nico grinned. “I truly don’t know. Isn’t it exciting?”

  I whacked him gently across the head.

  “Hey!” he said. “Watch the hair!”

  I scowled at him. “Serves you right for spending more time in the bathroom than I do.”

  Someone was knocking on the door. Nico and I looked at each other.

  “What now?” I wailed. “Not another Ernie or Jerry!”

  “I’ll answer it,” he said. I figured Nico thought he was protecting me in some way.

  He threw open the door. A bellboy-slash-mortician stood there. He had a large flat parcel in his hands. Actually, one end was resting on the floor, and he was merely holding the package upright.

  “Delivery for Gina Gallo,” said the bellboy. He hefted the parcel over to Nico.

  I groaned. “Not more gifts from unknown admirers.”

  “Don’t think so this time,” said Nico. “There’s a note taped on here. It appears to be from Frank Portabello. Here.” He pulled it off and handed it to me.

  “Wanted to give you a wedding gift. Let’s have lunch on Wednesday, just you and me. I’ll mark it in my calendar. Frank.” I read it out loud. Then I showed it to Nico.

  “Interesting that he signed it Frank and not Dad,” said Nico.

  “Dad would be creepy,” I said. I wasn’t sure what kind of relationship we were going to end up with. But I wasn’t ready to call him Dad.

  “Help me rip the wrapping off,” I said.

  Nico and I worked together. There is something satisfying about ripping paper off a parcel. It’s almost as much fun as popping Bubble Wrap. When we got done, Nico held the contents upright.

  It was a painting. A black velvet painting of Elvis.

  “That’s weird,” I said.

  “Beyond weird,” Nico agreed. We both gazed at the iconic painting of Elvis wearing a white jumpsuit. He was holding a microphone. It was the sort of painting that would have been really cool in the 1970s.

  “Maybe there’s some significance we don’t know about?” Nico said.

  “Beats me.” As a wedding gift, this seemed bizarre. Sure, I didn’t mind taking home a souvenir of Vegas. But…well, I didn’t want to use the word tacky exactly. It’s just that Frank didn’t seem like a velvet Elvis sort of guy.

  “We can ask Salvo in a few minutes. Rita is coming, and they want to meet us at…actually, right now,” said Nico, looking down at his phone.

  I grabbed my purse and jacket and followed him out the door.

  NINE

  “You haven’t seen the casino yet, have you?” asked Nico. We were standing in one of the central elevators of the Necropolis, going down.

  I thought for a moment. “No. Last night we came up through the service elevator.”

  “Usually they put casinos in the lobbies of these Vegas hotels,” said Nico. “But Salvo thought the noise of all the slot machines would fight with the mortuary theme. So from the lobby, you have to go through a double set of soundproof doors to get to it.”

  I smiled. “But there’s no way to avoid it, right? They make you go through the casino to get to your hotel room.”

  He grinned back. “Temptation. It’s all savvy marketing. Now, be ready for a surprise.”

  After the dark and heavy theme of the Necropolis lobby, I didn’t know what to expect. And then the elevator doors opened.

  The racket of bells and whistles hit me like a physical thing.

  “Welcome to Valhalla!” said Nico. We walked forward into a soaring four-story room.

  “Holy cannoli!” I said, gazing up. “This is a tad unexpected.”

  I knew Valhalla was the name of Viking heaven. The Norse had a somewhat different interpretation of the afterlife than I was raised with. In fact, I was willing to admit that their version was a lot more fun, if these murals were anything to go by.

  Lots of drinking, fighting and Viking versions of making little Vikings. Or it could have been more fighting. It was hard to tell. I tilted my head sideways to see better.

  “There you are!” said Salvo, rushing forward. His arms scooped us into a group hug. “How do you like my little casino?”

  “Love it!” I said. “Those costumes are to die for.”

  It was an odd mix. Staff members in this part of the Necropolis were dressed as Vikings. The customers appeared to be mainly drunken zombies. Did Viking legends include zombies?

  Nico must have been thinking the same thing. “I think someone broke off an arm,” he said.

  “Don’t be silly, Nico. Our slot machines don’t have arms anymore,” said Salvo. “They’re all electronic.”

  “No, I mean someone left an arm behind.” He picked up an abandoned zombie arm from the floor.

  “Yikes!” I whacked his wrist to make him drop it.

  “Time to meet Rita,” Salvo said. “Tallyho!” He carved a way through the tipsy zombie gamblers. We marched through the double doors at the far end and into the lobby. It was refreshingly quiet, if a tad somber and morose in comparison.

  “Probably I should tell you…” Salvo stopped walking. “Rita is sort of different.”

  Uh-oh. That was a warning expression in our family. Nico and I looked at each other.

  “She’s not dangerous or anything!” Salvo rushed to assure us. “She’s just into some weird New Age stuff.”

  “You mean music?” asked Nico. His face was screwed up in puzzlement.

  “Em…more than that.”

  Salvo led us into the Crematorium Grill, which was crazy busy. “We have a private dining room at the back,” he said.

  I had only seconds to take in the decor, which might best be described as Early Dracula-Movie Gothic. Then Salvo led us into a smaller room and said, “Look! There’s Rita!”

  TEN

  My first impression of Rita made me smile. She appeared to be dressed entirely in veils. Lovely silk on
es, in every color of the rainbow. Her flowing maxi dress looked like it could have come from Saks Fifth Avenue, if Saks had a hippie department.

  My second impression? She was gorgeous. Her brown eyes were huge and needed no makeup. Dark brown hair curled down to the middle of her back. Her smiling mouth was wide with full lips.

  “I’d know you anywhere,” Rita said to me. “You look so like Marie.” She reached forward to give me a big hug.

  I hugged her back. It wasn’t even awkward. For some reason, I got a good feeling all over.

  Salvo frowned. “Actually, I think she looks a lot like you, Rita. Now that I see you together.”

  Rita’s laugh was bright and bell-like. “Well, that wouldn’t be unexpected. We share much of the same gene pool.”

  I guess we did. Rita was Frank’s sister. That made me as related to her as I was to Pinky and Grizelda, my mother’s sisters.

  Rita pulled out a chair and gracefully sat down at the center table. We joined her. I gave her my most winning smile.

  “Frank wanted to be here, but they needed him in Chicago for something,” she said. “You know how they are. He told me to tell you he’d be back by tomorrow.”

  I nodded. I knew how they were, all right. You didn’t say no to the capo dei capo if he wanted you in Chicago.

  “Oh, dear,” she said. Rita was looking at me strangely. “Gina, I don’t mean to alarm you, but…” She paused.

  “What?” I demanded. I had enough on my plate. What else could go wrong?

  “There’s something wrong with your aura,” she said.

  “My what?” I looked around me in a panic.

  Salvo sat up smartly. “Probably I should explain. Rita owns a set of crystal stores here and in Arizona, in Sedona. She’s very…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “Attuned to the mystical world. Fault lines and all that. You know.”

  I didn’t know. It sounded sort of loopy to me. But I wanted to make a good impression on my new aunt. So I focused on her comment.

 

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