Red Roses in Las Vegas (21 page)

We froze, waiting for someone to come running out with a baseball bat.

We must’ve stood there for hours, barely breathing, trying to not move a muscle. In reality, it was probably just a couple of minutes, before we realized that the house was empty.

Ian was the first to exhale. “Well,” he whispered hoarsely. “I think I did us a favor.”

I fished around in my bag and pulled out a flashlight.

Ian went on. “You know how some burglars knock? That was our knock.”

“Be quiet,” I hissed, pointing the flashlight’s circle of light around the room. It was still white and cream, and thankfully, we were the only two in here.

“Why’re you always so rude?” Ian whispered back. “I’ve been really helpful for you in this investigation. We might not even be here, if I hadn’t encouraged you. I think we make great partners.”

I waved my hands in frustration, and walked out the room and into the narrow hallway. “Be quiet, we don’t want to wake anyone.”

“No one’s home.” Even when he was whispering, Ian managed to sound pouty.

“Fine,” I said, peering into the kitchen and pointing the flashlight around. “But it doesn’t hurt to be quiet.”

I left the kitchen and dining area, and headed back down the hallway.

“Where’re we going?” Ian asked. “Where’d you think he’d hide the gun?”

There was a door on my left, closed and mysterious. I opened it a fraction, and aimed the flashlight inside.

“Bingo!” It was a study, complete with a desk, bookshelves and a metal filing cabinet. “I reckon it’s in the metal cabinet.”

I held the flashlight and Ian opened the drawers, one by one. None of them were locked; all of them were packed with papers and files. No gun anywhere.

I exhaled loudly, disappointed, and pointed my small Maglite around. This could be a long night: the gun could be anywhere. In a toilet cistern, in a kitchen cabinet, in a bedroom drawer. My legs were starting to feel shaky, so I headed over to the desk and sat down on the revolving chair.

The desk was large and wooden, and had a plastic paper-sorting system on the left corner, as well as a digital table clock, a silver photo frame displaying a photo of Mike and Claire grinning for the camera, and a pen-holder. On my right, there were four wooden drawers.

I opened them, one by one. The bottom one had odds and ends – sharpeners, hole punchers, staplers, the odd hair accessories, and a bottle of cheap whiskey. The second one had an odd assortment of paper towels, band aids, a packet of Mars bars, and a box of A4-sized batteries. The next one contained sheaves of papers, some of them loose, some stapled together.

The top drawer was locked.

I grabbed the handle and pulled, and then pulled some more. It didn’t budge.

“Let me try,” Ian whispered, so I let him.

We might’ve pulled the table forward a few inches, but the drawer refused to open.

“It’s in here,” Ian whispered, looking at me with gleaming eyes.

“I know,” I whispered back. “Maybe we should look for a key.”

“If there’s a gun in there, he’s probably thrown away the key.”

I nodded. He was probably right.

“Didn’t Jack teach you to pick locks?” Ian asked, and I nodded.

“I’ve got the lock-picking set he gave me.” I could barely remember what he’d told me about pressing down and jiggling the pick till the lock gave way.

“Now’s the time to use it.”

I nodded, and found the lock-picking set in my bag. My hands were trembling, but I managed to select the torque wrench, and inserted it into the keyhole. I turned it clockwise, but it stopped immediately, so I turned it anticlockwise.

When Jack had showed me how to do this, it had looked easy. “Insert the torque wrench,” he’d said, “Then use the pick to push the pins up into their unlocked positions. Do it one by one, and when you’ve got all the pins in position, turn the wrench to open the lock.”

It had seemed so easy then, but now, I could barely stop my fingers from trembling. I couldn’t seem to find all the pins, and I was nervous about pushing them too far and breaking them. Thankfully, Ian was silent, other than his deep breathing, and didn’t try to offer me “encouragement.”

It seemed to take hours, but finally I got the lock pick to push up all the pins into position, and then I tried to turn the wrench. It turned all the way around.

I raised my arms into the air victoriously, and Ian gave a soft whoop of excitement.

I handed him the torch, and pulled on the drawer handle. It slid open easily.

Ian pointed the flashlight into the drawer. We peered inside and froze.

Ian was the first to speak. “There’s no gun in here.”

“Maybe it’s under these papers.”

I lifted them up and looked underneath, but there was nothing.

“Then why was it locked?”

All that was inside the drawer was a few sheets of paper, a checkbook, and a micro-SSD card.

“I guess the checkbook.”

“Hang on,” Ian said, “Wasn’t Adam’s phone missing?”

We both stared at the micro-SSD card. It looked like something that would fit into a smartphone.

“Here.”

Ian pulled his smartphone out of his pocket and turned it off. He flipped it over, removed the case and pulled out his micro-SSD card. It took him a few tries, but after a few seconds, he managed to insert the SSD card we’d found in the drawer, and started up his phone.

We waited while the screen gave us a “preparing internal mass storage” message, and then when it was finally gone, we went into the contacts screen. It was a bunch of people’s names, and we scrolled down, not recognizing any of them, until we got to Cynthia’s number.

“This must’ve been Adam’s memory card,” Ian whispered, and I nodded.

“But why’d Mike steal it?”

We scrolled down some more, but none of the names really jumped out at us. I recognized some employees from the Verdant Wealth Solutions office, and Mike and Claire’s numbers.

“Maybe he’s got some texts on there.”

But the messages inbox was showing up empty, so we shrugged, and went into the music folder. There were a bunch of popular songs, but no recordings.

We went into the photo gallery, and found a bunch of photos of food. There was a photo of the Verdant Wealth Solutions Christmas party, and I recognized some photos of Michelle Ackermann.

When we’d almost given up hope of finding anything interesting, we found the important photos.

There were five or six, all of Claire. She was meeting a short-haired brunette, giving her a bunch of gorgeous red roses. They were hugging, and then they were sharing a fairly passionate-looking kiss. There were at least three photos of them kissing, and another one zooming in on the flowers Claire had given her friend.

Suddenly, from the doorway, a voice said, “What’s going on?”

Ian and I screamed in unison. I was so shocked that I almost didn’t register how high-pitched and girly Ian’s scream was.

Claire switched on the light, and Ian and I squinted and shaded our eyes.

“What’s going on?” she repeated, and this time, I noticed that she was pointing a small, deadly-looking Smith & Wesson at us.

“Hey!” Ian said, looking back at me excitedly. “Maybe that’s the gun!”

“Uh.” I had a hard time getting any words out.

“What gun?” Claire asked.

Her hair was as perfect as ever, and her voice was as cold as icecream.

“The gun used to kill Adam,” Ian said.

I managed to find my voice and said, “Maybe you could put it away?”

She shook her head. “I come home after a long, tiring, journey, and I find two crazy goons sitting around in my office. Why don’t you guys wait here, and I’ll call the cops.”

“Sure,” Ian said, “And we can tell them all about how you killed Adam.”

Claire narrowed her eyes at us. “On second thoughts, maybe I’d better not let you talk.”

“Oh, good,” Ian said. “You’re not calling the cops.”

I gritted my teeth. “Ian. She means she doesn’t want us to
talk.
” He looked at me cluelessly, and I said, “She wants to kill us.”

Claire smiled. “That’s it. Leave no evidence behind, right?”

Ian shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ll get blood-stains all through your nice house.”

The smile never left Claire’s face. “Maybe we’ll go out somewhere.”

For the first time, I noticed just how expressionless her eyes were, just how perfectly friendly her smile was.

“Why are you doing this?” I said. “You know you can’t just kill two more people. One might’ve been ok, but two…”

“Yeah,” Ian said. “Why’d you kill Adam anyway?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I think I do,” I said slowly. “He took photos of you with a woman. That’s what he meant –
stupid red roses.
He threatened to expose you unless you paid up.”

She snorted. “You’re close, but not quite.”

“You killed Adam?”

The three of us turned around and stared.

Mike had walked into the room, his eyes wide and glassy, his face pale. He was still wearing the blue and white striped pajamas, and Claire pointed the gun at him.

“Hey!” Ian said. “What’re you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

He glanced at us disinterestedly. “I overslept,” he said, his voice seeming to come from far away. “And then I thought I heard a loud scream, like a teenage girl had seen a rat.” Ian and I exchanged guilty looks, and Mike turned to Claire again. “Tell me you didn’t kill my brother.”

I could see Claire’s arm trembling, and she shook her head. “It was for us. It was for the best.”

Mike’s eyes glowered, and his lips twisted into an angry grimace. “Just
how
was it best for us? Do you think I don’t know that you’re a lesbian? That you’d rather sleep with a woman than with me?”

Claire shook her head again. “He wanted to expose us, tell the world.” She turned to me and Ian. “That’s how it starts. Some guy asks for money, then he asks for some more, then he sells the photos to the papers.”

“Maybe you could’ve told me,” Mike said, taking a few steps forward. “I could’ve talked to him, instead of you just killing him.”

“Stay there.” Claire stepped back and pointed her gun at him. “I don’t want you any nearer.” She was only a few feet away from me and Ian, and she said, “I’ll kill you, too. This is bigger than us, bigger than any of us. I can do great things, if you’ll just let me.”

“Ok, babe.” Mike’s voice was gentle, and he raised his hands and took a step back. “We’ll let you do your thing.”

Claire took a deep breath and said, “Thank you. You know, I only do this for us.”

She was about to say something else, but before I knew it, Ian had leaped forward and pushed her face-down onto the ground. A shot rang out as she went down, and Mike immediately crouched down and grabbed her hand. Claire screamed, warning us all to get away from her, but we chose to ignore her.

Ian lay immobile, pinning Claire down beneath him. I went over to Mike, making sure the gun wasn’t pointing at me, and helped him pry the gun out of Claire’s hand.

“She killed my brother,” Mike said softly, as I went and put the gun away in Claire’s desk drawer.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

We glanced back at Ian, who was still busy keeping Claire pinned down onto the ground. I said, “I guess it’s time to call Detective Elwood.” 

Five days later, I was having lunch at my parents’ place with Ian and Stone. Nanna had moved back in with my parents the day before, and my mother seemed to have gotten over her fear of Nanna spending her remaining years in a prison cell.

“Where’s Nathan?” I asked Nanna, as we dug into our lunches. My mother had chosen to try out a some new recipes – Moroccan lamb tagine, with brown rice and a spicy vegetable dish. The vegetable thing wasn’t much to look at, and even worse to eat, but the rest of the food was pretty yum.

“I think maybe we’ll take a break,” Nanna said.

“That’s wonderful!” I beamed, and then I caught a glimpse of her face. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?”

Nanna shrugged. “I think we’ll stay friends. But I saw Glenn and Karma together, and I thought, maybe I should date someone more my age.”

My mother exhaled loudly. “Wonderful, wonderful. Or maybe you can just stay home and rest for a bit.”

Nanna glared at my mom. “I’m not
dead
, you know. Why should I waste my prime years ‘resting?’”

Stone looked up from his food and winked at me, and my parents exchanged a glance. We had no answer for that, so I said, “Well, it’s good you decided now. Instead of, you know, ten years later.”

Nanna nodded and turned to Stone, who was sitting next to her. “It’s good to see you again. I’m glad you’ve got time for these lunches.”

Stone nodded politely. “The food’s delicious.”

Nanna turned to face me, made wide, cookie-shaped eyes, and then looked down and smirked at her plate. Beside me, Ian giggled like a teenage girl who’d just glimpsed her high-school crush.

I frowned at Nanna and said, “I’m dating Jack.”

Stone looked up from his food immediately. I was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Nanna’s wide-eyed grimace and coy smirk, and he looked at me as though I’d just made that announcement out of the blue.

“I thought things weren’t going well between you two,” he said.

My mother looked at me, worried about a man she hadn’t even met yet, and I said, “What made you think that?”

Stone shrugged. “Oh, just… you never talk about him. And I thought you’d date someone sensible.”

“He is sensible.”

“Someone right for you.”

“He’s right for me.”

“Are you sure?”

I smiled and nodded. I might not be part of Jack’s usual crowd, and I might not have wealthy parents and pristine, well-maintained good looks. But now that I thought about it, his rich, glamorous crowd didn’t seem all that great after all. The women were cold, cruel and ambitious, and I wasn’t surprised that Jack had gotten bored of that life and indulged in his burglary hobbies. And it was probably quite reasonable for him to date someone like me, instead of a sharp-taloned gold-digger.

“Well,” my mother said, “I’m looking forward to meeting him. When are you bringing him over?”

“We just had two dates.” I frowned. “Or maybe it was three. I forget.”

“You don’t want to move too soon,” Nanna cautioned. “And remember, just because you’ve hooked him, doesn’t mean you’ll keep him.” Stone and my father stared at their plates, and Ian watched Nanna, fascinated. “Beauty comes from inside,” Nanna went on. “It’s not just lipstick and nice dresses, you need to focus on what’s underneath. You need nice underwear, and some of that newer, sexy stuff.”

Stone choked on his food, and Ian hurried to pass him the water jug.

“I think we should, uh, talk about this later,” I said. Or maybe never again.

Thankfully, Nanna’s advice-dispensing was stopped by a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” I said, jumping up and racing to the door.

Ian followed me, with Nanna and my mother close behind.

I turned to my mom when I was almost at the door. “You didn’t invite any other guys over to meet me, did you?”

She shook her head, no. “I’m not trying to set you up, as long as you keep dating this Jack person. But you need to bring him along to prove that he exists.”

“He does exist,” I said, and opened the door.

Elwood was standing outside, wearing a blue-ish grey shirt and black trousers.

“Hi,” I said, “What’s up? Do you want to come in?”

“Nah,” he said. “Just stopped by to tell you,” he peered around me and noticed Nanna standing there. “Oh, hi, Gwenda, sorry about that mixup.”

“It’s ok,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Niagara always did say you were a big disappointment to her, what else could I expect?”

“Uh.” He looked at the ground uneasily, then looked up again after a few seconds. “Anyway, I just stopped by to say that we’ve officially dropped the case against you. Ballistics matched up with the gun found in Claire’s house.”

“Poor Claire,” Ian said. “She just wanted to help people
out.”

“She was nuts,” I said bluntly. “She and that whole gang she hangs out with.”

Ian said, “You’ll still have to see those people, you know. If you keep dating Jack.”

“Um, I should go,” Elwood said, and looked at Nanna. “I’d appreciate if you’d tell my aunt, uh, that I was just doing my job?”

Nanna nodded. “I guess she knows that. How’re things with you and your wife?”

“They were getting better, and then…” Elwood frowned at me. “Tiffany suggested I give her red roses. Stupid roses. I hate roses.”

Ian said, “I suppose Claire does too, now.” He noticed Elwood’s scowl and added, “Did you get your wife jewelry, like I told you to?”

The scowl disappeared. “Yeah, I got her a gold-plated heart locket, like you said. She liked it.”

“Well, that’s great.”

“Thanks, I’m still keeping my fingers crossed on it all.”

We watched Elwood leave, and Nanna said, “I guess it all worked out in the end.”

“Yeah!” Ian said, as we all trooped back to the dining room. “And I helped! Wasn’t I a great partner?”

“Huh.” I looked at him doubtfully. “I suppose so.”

“Ian says he helped you speed through interviewing all those people,” Nanna said, as we sat down and picked up our forks again. “And he helped save your life once again, when Claire pulled a gun on you.”

“Maybe you should reconsider quitting your PI work,” my mom said. “If Ian invests in your firm, you can quit the casino work and go full-time.”

“It does sound like a good idea,” my dad added. “You’ve been talking about how you’d like to stop being a dealer.”

“I’d love to invest!” Ian said. “We should head straight back home and talk to my trustee. I can get him to come over tomorrow.”

Stone raised one eyebrow and watched as I made a face.

“I don’t want you investing,” I told Ian. “Not quite yet.”

“Why not?” Ian said. “It’s not like I’m a bad partner. I’ve helped you out.”

“He’s right,” Stone said. “He
has
been a help. You could use a partner.”

Ian beamed and I shook my head. I had a strong premonition that if Ian tried to be my partner, he’d get into all kinds of ridiculous trouble.

Later on, I turned out to be right. Ian
would
get into trouble, and I’d find myself feeling responsible for him. But I had no idea, just then, exactly what kind of trouble it would be.