Red Roses in Las Vegas (3 page)

I’d given Detective Wilson my statement about the man’s death I’d “witnessed” in the Verdant Wealth Solutions office the previous morning, and Detective Elwood was a fat, grumpy man I’d first met a few weeks ago when I’d been working on my last case. They were both wearing tan Dockers and polo-necked t-shirts, although Elwood’s shirt was a dark navy blue and Wilson’s was a green-and-white stripe that almost blended in with our front lawn. Wilson was carrying a black leather file holder, and Elwood and I looked at each other in surprise.

“What’re you doing here?” he said.

“This is my parents’ house.”

“Hunh,” he said. “Figures.”

I frowned again and crossed my arms. Elwood and I aren’t exactly the best of friends, and it usually wasn’t good news when cops showed up at your front door.

“Is Ms. Gwendolyn Dayton home?” asked Detective Wilson.

“That’s my nanna,” I said. “What’s going on?”

My mother, Nanna and Ian appeared behind me.

“What’s going on?” Nanna repeated. And then she peered at Elwood. “You’re Niagara’s nephew, Rupert, aren’t you?”

I sniggered mentally. Elwood shifted from one leg to another and glanced at Nanna and then at me. “Uh…”

“I know you,” Nanna told him. “Niagara says you’re a big disappointment to her and the family. Especially since you let your wife walk out on you. Everyone loves her.”

Elwood stiffened and I glanced down at his hands. He wasn’t wearing his wedding band. “We’re talking things through,” he told Nanna.

“That’s great!” I said, and I really meant it.

Nanna nodded. “It’s wonderful. You’ll be less of a disappointment if you manage to get her back.”

Wilson stood straighter and cleared his throat. He was a tall, lanky man with dark, crew-cut hair and dull grey eyes. When I’d given him my statement yesterday he’d seemed tired and humorless. He looked a bit less tired today, but he still had the sallow skin and deadened eyes of a man who didn’t have time for fun.

“What’s wrong with your throat?” Nanna asked him. “You sound like you’re coming down with a cold.”

Wilson looked at her blankly and ignored her concern about his health. “I’m Detective Wilson, ma’am,” he said. “Could we step inside for a moment, please?”

“I’ve never met you before,” Nanna said thoughtfully. “Detective Wilson.”

Nanna isn’t a Vegas local, but since moving here ten years ago to live with my parents, she’s quickly infiltrated Vegas’ mafia-like Old People’s Gang. Between them, the gang knows just about everyone who lives here, plus everyone’s extended family. The Vegas rumor mill is kept alive by these septuagenarians, and they’re the ones who stalk the popular slot machines, sliding in to play just before the machines are set to pay out. Except my Nanna of course – poker is her sport of choice, but we’ve kept that a secret from my parents, so far.

“Come in,” said my mother from behind us, but Nanna said, “Hold on a second. Detective Wilson. I’ve never heard of you. How do I know you’re really a cop? Maybe you’re just impersonating an officer so that you can barge in and rob us blind.”

He showed us his badge and Nanna shook her head. “Easy to make replicas, and you can buy anything on the internet. All kinds of things.” She looked at me and added hopefully, “Maybe you can buy one of those things to help your love-life.”

I sighed, hoping Nanna wouldn’t start listing possible internet purchases to help my love-life.

Wilson took a deep breath and said, “You’re welcome to call the precinct, ma’am.”

Nanna looked at Elwood.

“He’s with me,” Elwood told her. “We’re partners.”

“I thought you were working Theft,” I said to Elwood, as we all walked inside.

Elwood rolled his eyes. “I was pulled onto this case today.”

“Well,” Nanna said. “At least I’ll have something to tell Niagara.”

Elwood flinched at the name and I sympathized.

We all trooped into the den, with its over-stuffed furniture, navy blue drapes, and vague smell of musty roses. My dad came out of the dining room with his coffee mug in hand. “What’s going on?”

“This is my friend Niagara’s nephew,” Nanna told him.

“I’m Detective Elwood. We’d like a word with Ms. Dayton.”

My parents exchanged a look and Nathan peeked in. “I have to leave for work,” he announced, and took off before anyone could get a good look at him. Running away from the cops, I thought.

“This is exciting,” Ian said, mostly to me. “The cops are here. Maybe we can pick up some tips from them.”

“Maybe we should leave,” I said loudly. “I’m sure these gentlemen want some privacy.”

Ian looked crestfallen and Nanna quickly said, “No, no. Stay.”

My parents had disappeared somewhere, and Wilson said, “Actually, we’d prefer to talk to Ms. Dayton alone.”

Nanna gave him a sharp look. “What’s wrong with my grand-daughter and her friend sitting with us? I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Elwood stared glumly at his shoes and Wilson looked from Nanna to me to Ian.

Wilson and Elwood were sitting side by side on the overstuffed couch with its faded green-and-yellow checked pattern. Nanna sat on an armchair on the right of the couch, and Ian and I sat on rose-patterned fabric chairs to the left of the couch.

Wilson blinked and took a deep breath. “Certainly.” He opened his leather file holder, pulled out a glossy five-by-four photo and handed it to Nanna. “Do you know this man?”

“Of course,” Nanna said. “He’s Leona’s son. Managed some funds for me, and what a stupid funds manager he was. Lost me over nine thousand dollars in three months. And I only gave him ten to invest.”

Wilson glanced at his partner, but Elwood was still staring intently at his shoes. Ian was craning his neck, trying to get a peek at the photo. “Sit still,” I hissed at him, and he looked at me pleadingly. I frowned, and Ian sat back in his chair.

“When was the last time you talked with him?” Wilson asked Nanna.

“Early last week.” Nanna leaned back and crossed her arms. “I let him know just how disappointed I was in him and that I’d take care of things.”

Wilson looked at Elwood sharply but, once again, his partner sat wordlessly, entranced by his shoes. “You were angry,” prompted Wilson.

Nanna nodded. “Of course I was angry. I was furious. The idiot had just lost most of my money. If I wanted to lose nine thousand dollars, I’d take myself to the roulette wheel and place it all on red. And even then, I might’ve done better than him.”

Wilson looked at Elwood, and this time his partner looked back at him and nodded.

“Ms. Dayton,” said Elwood, “Adam Bitzer was found dead, late Friday night.”

Nanna’s eyes grew round, just like she’d shown me during her flirting tips, and she leaned forward. “No!”

“Hang on,” I said, frowning. “Adam Bitzer from Verdant Wealth Solutions?”

Elwood and Wilson looked at me seriously.

“You’re kidding,” I told Wilson. “I just gave you my statement yesterday.”

“Yes,” he said.

“How’d he die?” Nanna said. “Poor Leona. She must be devastated.”

“He died from multiple gunshot wounds,” Wilson told Nanna. “Can you tell us anything more about that?”

“Hold on a second.” Nanna narrowed her eyes and Elwood looked down at his shoes again. “Are you accusing
me
of
murder
?”

The room was silent for a few seconds, and I felt like I’d stepped into a bad movie.

And then Nanna broke the silence. “Rupert! I don’t believe the gall! I’m going to have to have a word with your aunt.”

“Please don’t.” Elwood - Rupert – looked at Nanna pleadingly. Wilson stared at him icily and Elwood turned to him and said, “Why can’t you work with someone else?”

“Grow a pair,” Wilson told him.

I felt sorry for Elwood. I knew the power of the Old People’s Gang, and his aunt sounded like a terror, so I said, “What’s Nanna got to do with this, anyway?”

Wilson looked at me seriously. “We believe Ms. Dayton has some involvement in the matter.”

“Really,” said Nanna. “Is that any way to talk to an old lady? And here I am, just sitting here, waiting for my time to come, and young men like you accuse me of crimes. Hunh.”

Wilson turned his watery grey eyes towards Nanna and pulled out a piece of paper. “We have it on record here that you’d called Mr. Bitzer and threatened him. Witnesses say he was ‘quite nervous’ after your call and that you said you’d ‘set him straight’ and ‘take care of him.’ We believe that the loss of your funds gives you motive, doesn’t it?”

“He’d better have been nervous! I was going to tell his mother what he’d done.”

Elwood and Wilson looked at each other.

“That’s what you meant by ‘set him straight?’” Elwood said, and Nanna nodded.

“We don’t know that,” Wilson said. “It sounds like you threatened to kill him.”

“How would I kill him?” Nanna said. “I’m a weak old lady.”

Wilson said, “It doesn’t take much strength to lift a gun.”

“Hang on,” I said. “I was there when it happened. Whoever killed the guy ran away. Nanna couldn’t have done that.”

“You were there? Why didn’t you tell me?” Ian looked at me mournfully. “Nothing exciting ever happens to me.”

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you,” I said. “There’s not much to tell.”

Nanna was looking at me funny, and I knew she’d quiz me later about what I was doing when a man was being murdered.

“Anyone can run when they need to,” Wilson said. “Besides, you said you never heard the killer’s voice clearly, and it could’ve been anyone.”

I looked at him, and nodded reluctantly.

“Ma’am,” said Wilson, turning to Nanna again, “We found your prints in Adam’s office.”

“I went to see him that afternoon.”

“And what were you doing between twelve midnight and one a.m. on Friday?”

Nanna took a deep breath. “I was at The Tremonte Casino. You can see me on the video footage.”

Elwood and Wilson exchanged a glance. Elwood looked visibly relieved and said to Nanna, “We’re sorry to have bothered you. I hope you won’t mention this to my aunt?”

Nanna and Wilson both looked sternly at Elwood and, after a few awkward seconds, the two detectives said their goodbyes and left.

“That was interesting,” Ian said, once they were gone. The three of us had come back into the living room and were standing around thoughtfully. “How come you were there at the murder scene?”

“I wasn’t there, exactly,” I said slowly, and looked at Nanna. “So, you were in the casino the entire time?”

Nanna looked at me and I noticed she’d gone slightly pale. “Uh. Now that I think about it… I was in the casino the whole night. But…”

I felt my mouth go dry. “But what?”

“I stepped out for a walk just after twelve.”

We stared at each other, wide-eyed.

Ian broke the silence. “So, you killed this guy?”

“Of course not,” I snapped. And then I turned to Nanna. “You didn’t, right?”

She shook her head. “No, I just went out to clear my head. I walked up and down the Strip. It was a tough game that night.”

“Did anyone else see you?”

She shook her head and I sank down onto a sofa.

“You don’t think I’ll be in trouble, do you?” Nanna asked, and I stared at the floor and shook my head.

“I hope not.”

“Maybe she killed the guy,” Ian said hopefully. “You can tell us the truth. We can’t help you if we don’t know the truth.”

I glared at Ian and looked at Nanna again. I’d been there that night, and the footsteps had sounded pretty heavy when the killer had run away, but still, you don’t want to annoy my Nanna. “You didn’t really kill him, did you?”

Nanna shook her head, no. “What do I do now?”

“You get a lawyer,” I said, “And hope that the cops find another, better suspect.”

“You can use my lawyer,” Ian said. “He’s the best. Or maybe I can look stuff up online, like how to defend yourself when the cops think you’re a murderer.”

Ian jabbered on about the justice system, the police, jail, and lawyers, while I went through the motions of helping Nanna. I was trying not to panic and, judging by stoic look on Nanna’s face, so was she.

While Nanna made a few well-placed phone calls, I dragged Ian out of the room with me and filled my parents in on what had happened. When we returned to the living room a few minutes later, Nanna had gotten herself a lawyer – Chris Appleby, her friend Gayle’s son, who worked in a law firm downtown.

“You met him once, a few years back,” Nanna told me. “He’s a little overweight, balding, divorced – your mother tried to set you two up.”

I shook my head. My mom introduced me to new, “wonderful” men every other day, and I’d lost track of who I’d met.

After she’d decided to hire Chris, Nanna forced me to recount the events of Friday night. My parents were both standing there, looking at me sternly, so I gave everyone the same version I’d told the police.

“What kind of man takes you to an office on a first date?” asked my mother. “I don’t think this Jack sounds like a very nice guy.”

“Uh…”

“Although,” she said, brightening up, “At least you’ve got yourself a boyfriend! That’s good news. What does he do?”

Everyone was staring at me expectantly, and I said, “Well, I wouldn’t really call him my boyfriend. He’s more like a friend, now. I don’t think I’ll see him again.”

“That’s not right,” my mother said. “Just because you witnessed a murder on the first date doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see him again. Maybe I misjudged him, maybe he thinks offices are romantic.”

She looked confused, trying to justify a strange man’s penchant for offices.

“We should go,” I said to Ian quickly, before Mom could quiz me anymore. “I don’t have all day. I need to run some errands and then get to my shift.”

I dragged Ian out while my parents stared after us, looking slightly worried. They seemed to assume that Nanna would be fine, despite being a murder suspect, but I was the troublesome one because of my dubious dating preferences.

“You know you have to help Nanna,” Ian said as I drove south along the Vegas freeway. “You’re a private investigator. You need to investigate this mess. Prove she’s innocent, and all that.”

I focused on the road and slid over to a different lane. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Why not? She’s your nanna. You need to help her.”

“I’m helping her by not getting involved. The lawyer can do his job, and this’ll blow over soon. It’s not like she’s a big suspect. She’s a sweet little old lady and the cops’ll find their man, soon enough.”

“But you’re an investigator. You’re meant to investigate.”

“I’ll just make things worse if I get involved now.”

Ian ranted on about helping family and saving the day, but I stuck to my guns. I didn’t want to annoy the detectives by poking my nose in, and I needed to let them do their jobs.

A few hours later, I was in The Treasury, stepping in behind a blackjack table. I clapped my hands out, indicating that I wasn’t holding any chips or cards, and started to deal. The warmth of the casino surrounded me like a security blanket. This was a world away from Nanna’s troubles, and it was my home for the next eight hours. Security cameras blinked away on the ceiling and strobe lights and sirens went off every now and then, indicating a big winner at the progressive slot machines. Players chattered, cocktail waitresses hovered around, and casino security watched from a distance.

I allowed myself to drift into my zombie-like dealer state, as I dealt cards, calculated pay outs and made friendly conversation with the players. I didn’t need to concentrate completely unless there was a player being a complete jerk at the tables, and I used this opportunity to ponder my life and wonder idly about who might’ve killed Adam Bitzer.

On my first break, I checked my messages and found a text from Ian:
You really shud help Nanna.

I texted back.
No need. Cops’ll find the real killer easily. This’ll blow over soon.

I was wrong, of course.