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Authors: Gary S. Griffin

Tags: #mystery, #detective, #murder, #LA, #models, #investigator, #private, #sex, #drama, #case, #crime, #strippers

Beautiful Girls (13 page)

BOOK: Beautiful Girls
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O

 

Mel appeared.

“Stevie we've got to hurry, let's go.”

Mel had changed into hip-hugging white pants, a black cotton blouse and black heels. She grabbed my hand, pulled me down the hallway and we were out the front door in seconds.

“Follow me. I know a short cut into the Bellagio.”

I kept up with her but was impressed how fast she could walk in four-inch heels. We turned left, right and left down a short driveway, a long walkway and a narrow alley and entered the service door in the back of Bellagio. I could see the brightly shining hotel towering above us in the dark evening sky. I noticed the temperature had cooled.

Within ten minutes we were walking in the main lobby. The Bellagio was an impressive site, with its wall murals, marble floors, fountains, shops and statuary.

Mel pulled me onward to the Cirque du Soleil theatre.

“This place is expensive, Stevie. Do you have enough to cover us?”

“How much is the show?”

“Well, it depends where we sit.”

Then, we were at the front of the line and the clerk said, “Hello.”

Two hundred and sixty dollars later and only a few minutes before the show started, we were in our seats. What a bizarre show it was! The show was titled the letter “O”, but I don't know why. I couldn't figure out any story line, but it held my attention. It was amazing how the stage changed from a floor to a pool and back to a floor during the show. We sat in the tenth row and had a perfect view of everything, including the expressions on the performers' faces and the antics within the pool.

The acrobats and dancers in “O” were simply astounding. They wore striped leotards and flew through the air. We sat amazed at all that happened in front, above and below us. I truly didn't think people could do all those athletic moves.

Mel loved the show. She sat very erect and didn't use the back of her chair. She looked at me often to see if I liked the show as much as her.

During the scene changes I kept searching the crowd and the stage for some sign of Rob Nealy. I saw none.

It was hard to focus on my task due to the mind-blowing show. During the second half, I wondered, with what was left of my mind, where we would find the next clue. I had an idea.

After the final curtain descended upon the stage I asked Mel, “Did you see anything that looked like a clue?”

“Are you kidding, my head is spinning from all the sights and sounds! That show's incredible!”

“It really was. Though, I didn't see anything that looked like a clue either. Yet, this show got me thinking. How would Rob hide anything up on stage or in the pool here? We'd never find it. I don't think Rob could get on stage. I guess he could toss the clue disk in the pool, but someone would likely see him. The security is pretty tight in here. Plus, he wants us to find the clues.”

“That's true, Stevie. So, what are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking we have a big search in front of us.”

“What?”

“Do you remember the clue? Rob's note said that we should look carefully where we sit. I wonder if he wrote that because he hid the clue under one of the seats.”

Mel answered, “I don't know, do you think?”

“Maybe, I just can't come up with anything else.”

“Oh, man, Stevie. There's what, over a thousand seats in this theatre?”

“Probably more…”

We stopped talking and looked around the theatre. The audience was filing out. One by one the chair seats were automatically returning to their upright positions, with their bottoms visible from the stage. I thought of a way to make this search go quickly. I would use Mel's charms to go along with what brains I had. Good thing, because the ushers were looking our way.

“Mel, we need to act fast.”

We did. I quickly told Mel my idea. She then pleaded with an usher, who spread the word to the others.

Our luck continued. Within six minutes, an usher located our “lost” item in the fifth row center of the balcony. There, affixed to a seat bottom with chewing gum was another clear, round disk.

We took the disk, gave the ushers our thanks and a tip and left the theatre.

 

The Third Clue

 

It was now 9:40. Mel knew of a quiet lounge off the Bellagio lobby where her sister, Harmony, worked.

Harmony Pima looked very much like Melody. There were nearly the same height and weight. Their bodies were similar too. The main difference was their hair. While Mel had Irish red hair, Harmony's was what people used to call Black Irish. Harmony's very dark hair was pulled backed into a thick, braided ponytail that extended to her waist. She wore the lounge's uniform; a black mini-dress that had a sparkling thread to it. Her severe look seemed intimidating until she spoke; she had the sweetest little girl voice. I sensed sibling rivalry between the sisters as Mel acted as if something was going on between us. As such, Harmony limited her table talk and spoke in a polite, formal manner.

Mel and I both believed our night had just begun, so we ordered coffee instead of a drink. We were seated at a quiet cocktail table in the back of the poorly lit lounge. We waited until our coffees had been delivered and Harmony had departed before we opened the clue. We both drank our coffee with just cream added.

Again, the disk contained two pieces of paper. The next part of scripture read:

“Who is this fellow  David?” Nabal sneered to the young men. “Who does this son of Jesse think he is? There are lots of servants these days who run away from their masters. Should I take my bread and my water and my meat that I've slaughtered for my shearers and give it to a band of outlaws who come from who knows where?”

So David's young men returned and told him what Nabal had said. “Get your swords!” was David's reply as he strapped on his own. Then 400 men started off with David, and 200 remained behind to guard their equipment.

We looked at each other after we finished reading.

“OK, so, David was spurned and insulted, and he went to fight Nabal with his men,” I said.

“Yeah, Nabal is calling David a runaway servant and an outlaw, who doesn't deserve Nabal's food. How does that relate to you and Edie?”

“Who knows, Mel?” Her question stayed on my mind.

I opened the small letter with the clue.

Hello David,

I'm impressed with your hunting abilities. Now you will pay tribute to the Roman emperor. You'll find the next clue in the pristine air above the den of Bacchus. I'm sure you'll feel right at home. Ask the Bard's lover for help.

Nabal

 

Mel said, “He must mean Caesar's Palace.”

“I agree. What about this part, where he writes of pristine air above the den of Bacchus? I think Bacchus is the Roman god of wine and partying.”

“There's a big nightclub there called Pure. That has to be it.”

I asked, “What's Pure like?”

“It has a downstairs bar and an upstairs one that's outside. The first floor area is the main part of the club with a big white room that has a dance floor. There are private rooms off to the sides. The upstairs terrace has a good view of the city. Downstairs is where the main action is, though. On a Friday night like this, it will be packed.”

Mel pulled her cell phone out of her purse, checked the time and said, “It's almost ten. Well, we're lucky. Pure doesn't get real crowded until midnight. We should get in. I think the club opens at 10:30.”

“Is it really that hard to get in?”

“Yes, you won't believe it. If you thought our bouncer at Liquid was tough, wait till you see Pure.”

“Oh, boy!”

“Stevie, since we're going at the opening, let's try to get in as general admission.”

“What are the other options?”

“Well, a club like Pure really pushes bottle service.”

I asked, “What's that?”

She smiled and touched my hand.

“You really don't know Las Vegas, do you, Stevie?”

“This is my first visit.”

“OK, well, bottle service is where, for a price, I think Pure is over three hundred dollars, you get a great table, and they bring you your glasses, bottles of booze and mixers. They also assign a guard who makes sure no one else sits at your table or hits on your girls.”

“Wow, really?”

“Yes. Since we're there to find the next clue, we might need to buy one drink to blend in, but that should do it. Even still, the cover may be thirty dollars to get in.”

“Vegas ain't cheap, is it?”

She answered, “No it isn't. As they say, if you have to ask — you can't afford it. I'm one of those who can't afford it. I don't want to pay anything to get in!”

“How can we do that?”

“Well, the third way to get in is to get on a VIP list.”

“How do you do that?”

Mel answered, “You need to know someone. And, I do. My ex-boyfriend works in Caesar's casino. We're still friends, we had an easy breakup; he's too immature for me. Eric's a manager of security or something, I can't remember. He can always get me on the VIP list.”

“That's nice of him.”

“Yeah, it is, but I look after him too. He likes getting into to Liquid on weekends in summer because there are really hot girls around the pool. So, he'll do it for me, if he's on duty. I'll call him.”

“Sure.”

Our luck held one more time. Mel's ex, Eric, was on break from his shift and said he'd walk over to Pure and get us on the VIP list. Mel told Eric I was a celebrity from L.A.

I thought,
whatever works.

Before we left the Bellagio's lounge, I asked Mel, “So, you think Rob's pristine air comment would be the second floor terrace?”

“Sure, we should check there first. What's the Bard's lover?”

“The Bard is a nickname for Shakespeare and his most famous lovers are Romeo and Juliet. So, maybe an employee at the bar has one of those names.”

“Do you think a bartender would have the clue?”

“Who knows? Rob did give the first clue to his friend in the soup kitchen. So, maybe he's asked someone to hold it again.”

Mel said, “Yeah, could be. It would be awfully hard to hide one of those disks in Pure, you know, with the huge crowds and all. Plus, I bet they really clean up the place each morning. I'm sure it looks really trashed after a big night.”

I asked, “You're probably right. So, where is Caesar's Palace from here?”

“Its north, about a mile or so up The Strip. It's too far for me to walk in these heels. Let's take a taxi.”

We headed out into the night air and made our way up The Strip.

 

Impure

 

As our taxi pulled up right in front of Pure we saw the insanity that was about to engulf us. There were badly formed lines of people trying to get in all around the entrance. As I paid the cab Mel walked ahead towards the shortest line.

She had almost reached the end of that line when she turned and saw me fifty yards back. Mel waved at me to hurry up.

There were about twenty people in front of us. It was 10:20.

“Stevie, this is the VIP line; it's not too bad. Sometimes this line can be as long as the other one.”

Across from us, there must have been about two hundred people bunched behind another rope. The women wore all kinds of club wear, especially brightly colored mini-dresses. Guys mostly wore t-shirts and jeans, and seemed underdressed compared to their girls.

The VIP's in front of us yelled at the bouncers trying to get their attention. When they did, the bouncers would check their names on their clip boards and slowly decide if and when to let a group in. We waited and slowly but surely most of the VIP's were admitted to the club. Mel used the time to reapply her lip gloss, brush her long hair, adjust her slacks and unbutton another button on her blouse. She looked like she was getting her clubbing groove on.

Mel turned and gave me an appraising look. Like hers, she unbuttoned my shirt more. Then, she ran her fingers through my hair, loosening up my locks.

“There, you look more like a celebrity,” she said.

I laughed and said, “Is that all it takes?”

At 10:52, twenty-two minutes after the opening, Mel had flagged down a bouncer. She spoke our names and he looked down his list.

Mel squeezed my hand when he looked up and said, “Ahh….Pima, two?”

Mel said, “That's right.”

Mr. Bouncer said, “OK, go on in.”

Mel hugged me and said, “Thank you. Let's go, Stevie.”

We left the huge crowd behind, wondering who we must be to get in so quickly.

The main room was down the entrance hall. This walk introduced us to the music, the loud music. Fortunately for me, they didn't play hip hop or rap. Mostly it was pop and rock, with some techno, which I like. Unfortunately for me, the volume was about twice the level I prefer.

Then, Pure's main room opened in front of us. The floor, the walls, the tables and the couches were all white. Subdued lighting and spotlights, mostly colored purple, shone down from the black studio-like ceiling. There were smaller rooms off to the sides which were hard to see into. The main space already felt cramped, yet the club still had the crowd outside to accommodate. The dance floor was already packed.

Mel knew her way around and pulled me through this center room to the steps that led upstairs. As we rose, I pulled back on her arm to stop about halfway up. We were on a landing that had a complete view of the dance floor and the couches and tables. I had to almost scream in her ear for her to hear.

“Let's look around here for a minute to see if we spot the clue.”

She looked at me like I was a little crazy, but nodded her head. We took our time. Mel looked from left to right and I moved my head the opposite way. No luck. All I spotted were the little soap operas playing out on the dance floor and at the tables.

I shook my head at Mel and pointed upwards. She continued climbing the steps.

The rooftop was completely different from the main floor. Where the first floor was cramped, white and a sensory overload, the roof was spacious, quieter and open to incredible views. Mel and I could have an actual conversation. The multicolored lights and images of The Strip surrounded us. We found a side table right away where we developed our plan.

Mel needed to use the rest room but said we should first move to the bar and order our drinks.

She said, “Surprise me, Stevie. I'll nurse it while we talk and look. That way the bartender won't think we're hogging his time.”

“Good idea.”

We saw and grabbed two stools at the quiet end of the bar away from the stairs. Mel sat for a moment, but left as the bartender approached.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I read the bartender's name tag: “Romeo”. That one look convinced me we had figured out Rob's clue. Romeo looked like he could have lived in the Renaissance with his Mediterranean complexion, longish black hair and solidly built six foot one inch frame. However, his black t-shirt revealed that he lived in the modern age; black ink tattoos were showing on his upper arms.

I recovered my focus to say that my friend would be right back.

He seemed surprised. “She's only your friend?”

I thought he was probing, but wanted to get on his good side. So, I said, “Yeah, we just met tonight.”

“Oh, I see. She's a nice package. I bet you'd like to open it, wouldn't you?”

“Sure, I mean, well, it's not like that.”

Romeo smiled and said, “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.”

He was drawing some odd conclusions, but I stayed silent as I wanted his help.

Then, he said, “So, what can I get you and your beautiful new friend?”

“Mel wants me to surprise her.”

“Oh, I can help with that.”

I asked, “Do you have any special house cocktails?”

“No, we don't.”

“What do you suggest then?”

Romeo answered a question with a question. “How about a Cosmo?”

“I think Mel wants something more interesting. Be creative.”

“OK, I've got just the thing.”

“Cool. I'll take a vodka tonic.”

“Coming right up.”

Romeo went to the far end of the bar to make our drinks. While I waited I turned and scanned the terrace for any sign of Rob; no luck. Mel came back and danced a few steps to the techno music in the background before she sat down. I shocked Mel when I told her our bartender's name. She smiled and nodded.

Romeo returned with a red fruity cocktail and my clear drink, placed them in front of us, looked at Mel and said, “This is Sex in the City.”

“Oh, neat.” She then looked at me and said, “This is special.”

Romeo said, “That will be fifteen for the lady's drink and ten bucks for the vodka tonic.”

I put forty dollars on the bar.

As Romeo picked up the two bills and walked to the cash register, Mel and I said “Cheers” to each other and had our first sips.

Mel whispered, “Wow, that's good, but strong,” and winked at me.

She took another sip, put down her glass as Romeo laid the change on the bar, and said, “Romeo, we're looking for something and wondered if you could help us.”

He smiled, “Sure, what is it, sweetheart?”

She began, “Well, we're looking for a clue…”

Within a minute, Romeo made the time-out sign with his hands and stopped my newfound friend before she could complete our story.

“That didn't take long.”

I said, “What didn't take long?”

“You guys.”

Mel said, “You were expecting us?”

Romeo pointed at me and said, “I was expecting him. You're Garrett, right?”

I nodded and said, “Yes, but how…?”

Romeo continued, “You're playing a game and I have the next clue.”

I grabbed Mel's thigh under the bar to stop her from speaking. While she looked at me, I said, “That's right, it's a game, like Hide and Seek.”

“That's what I've been told.”

“Who told you, Romeo?”

“I was told you would guess who.”

Mel watched our dialogue and took another sip of her drink.

I said, “An older white guy, with white hair. He's lean with an unhappy expression most of the time. His name is Rob Nealy. Am I correct?”

“Sonavabitch. I didn't think you'd show.”

I asked, “When was he here?”

“Last night, early in the evening. He asked me if I'd be working tonight. I told him yes. He then asked me to hold this.”

Romeo reached under the bar and brought the fourth clue into view. It was an envelope, like the first clue, with my name written on the front in blue ink.

Romeo continued, “He gave me twenty bucks to hold it for you.”

Mel gushed, “This is amazing, Stevie.”

I said, “That's the third clue we've found tonight.”

Romeo said, “I'll give it to you, but he wanted me to be sure you're Garrett. Can you show me your driver's license?”

I did as he asked, and as he handed me the envelope he said, “Wow, you're a long way from home.”

I asked, “Did Rob say anything else to you?”

“No, not really.”

“Was he drinking?”

“Yes, vodka, neat.”

I remembered the empty bottles of that spirit in the mountain cabin above Tucson. It was Rob.

“Was he drunk?”

“No, not really. He had two drinks while he was here. He spoke fine and he seemed really focused.”

I said, “He is.”

Not knowing what else to ask, I said, “Thanks for your help.”

“Yesh, thanksh,” slurred Mel.

I looked at her and said, “Are you okay?”

“I da know, Stevie, my eyes are getting bwurry.”

I saw that she had drunk over half her drink.

“What happened? Do you usually have problems with alcohol?”

“No, not this quick-we.”

I looked for Romeo. He had disappeared. When I turned back to Mel she said, “What's goin' on?”

“Mel, let's get out of here.”

“Yesh, pwease.”

I put the envelope in my back pocket and helped Mel off her bar stool. She practically fell into my arms. I helped her stand. I had my arm around her waist and she leaned into me. I spotted the elevator and headed that way.

She said, “I can walk, I'm just feelin' drunk.”

The elevator came up to our floor. The doors opened and unloaded new partiers. We entered and rode down to the main floor. We exited and I saw a hallway that led to the hotel. I steered Mel to the lobby as I thought it would be best way to get a taxi.

***

Once inside Caesar's Palace, I had Mel sit on a sofa. I noticed her eyes were really dilated; that wasn't normal from one drink. No wonder she had blurry vision.

“Whah happened, Stevie?”

“I don't know. Did you take any prescriptions today?”

“No.”

I thought back to my rooftop conversation with the bartender.

“I think you've been drugged.”

“By who?”

“My guess is Romeo, in your drink.”

I felt horrible that I had contributed to this by not setting Romeo clear about my relationship with Mel.

“What?”

“We'll never be able to prove it.”

“Oh, God, I betcha he put a roofy in my drink! That happened to Harmony at The Bank.”

“What did you do?”

“I wasn't with her but she said she got really horny and her eyes got blurry and her words got slurry. It didn't last long; two or three hours. She was OK the next day.”

“There's a store over there. Stay here and I'll get some water. Are you hungry?”

“I guess. Get me a chocolate bar.”

I did and Mel slowly drank the water and ate the candy. About twenty minutes later, she started to feel better, but her sight was still blurry. She was also leaning on me, but was able to stay awake.

“We should get you home, Mel. My guess is you're out of danger, but you might crash and fall asleep at any moment.”

BOOK: Beautiful Girls
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