Dazzled, page 14
part #5 of Charlie Cooper Mystery Series
The Kaleidos. Great. So I guessed everywhere I looked, there would be my parents. I glanced at Marge again.
She smiled at me sheepishly. “Happy birthday and…surprise?”
I sighed. Yes, tomorrow I’d be thirty—and what I wanted most of all was a day with no surprises. Was that too much to ask?
My mother gave me another hug. “It’s going to be so much fun to do Vegas with you girls,” she said.
I tried to imagine that: doing Vegas with my parents. I think the pain in my ankle was back.
“I still can’t believe you’re here,” I said.
“There’s no way I’d let my girl have a milestone birthday without her mama there.” My mother turned to Celeste and grabbed her hand. “I think it’s wonderful that we found you early.”
“So do we, Barbara,” Celeste said and squeezed her arm.
I cringed. “Yes…um…so do we.”
My mom turned to me again and studied my face. “Maybe it’s time we get you a stronger moisturizer.”
Just shoot me please.
“So where’s Dad?” I tried to change the subject.
“He went to the…oh, there he is.”
“Well, look who it is!” my father cried as he came bounding toward us, an ice cream in each hand. He let out a booming laugh that drew attention, even on what could have been the country’s weirdest street.
He bent to kiss my cheek. “Happy birthday early to my princess. I can see you girls got the same advice. Everyone we talked to said to check out Fremont Street, and this is quite a place. Very entertaining. You see these people and you wonder…you just want to ask them why.” He turned to watch a man clad only in a diaper. The man sucked a pacifier and walked a chicken on a leash; the chicken wore a tutu, which could have been the reason that the bird looked super pissed.
Celeste turned to watch as well and took a long, slow drag on her cigarette. “Why, indeed,” she said.
“Why the heck not, actually?” Marge asked with a grin.
My father threw back his head and laughed. He handed my mom one ice cream cone and he took a taste of the double scoop of chocolate piled high in his cone. “This is some stellar ice cream they sell here on Loony Street. Come on, let’s go back and let me treat you girls.” He put his hand on my back. “I know this one has a sweet tooth.”
We all enjoyed our treats as we walked down the street and shot more pictures with our phones. The crowd seemed to grow, and we had to stay alert to keep together in the crush of people.
“Keep a close eye on your mother,” my father said to me. “When we first got to this place, she was flirting up a storm with the Easter Bunny.”
My mother looped her arm through his. “You know I love you best,” she teased, “but I like the Easter Bunny. He brought that feng shui crystal for my basket—and I’ve felt peaceful ever since.”
“The Easter Bunny?” Marge moaned. “I missed the Easter Bunny. I would have loved a picture with the Easter Bunny.”
“I would have too,” Celeste said, “if I was six years old.” They both burst into giggles, and Marge offered her a taste of her lime sherbet with candy sprinkles.
My father had been right. The ice cream was divine. I was wishing I had a double scoop of my crunchy peppermint.
We stopped to listen to a man who played guitar and sang a fast-tempo song that must have been from my parents’ time, judging from the way my mother smiled when she recognized the tune. My father danced with Marge, and I had to admit it: they both could bust some moves. This was kind of fun.
When the dance was over, Marge glanced at her cell and ran to touch my arm.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s almost nine. I can’t wait for you to see what’s next.”
“What is it now?” I asked. I was feeling more relaxed than I had since the vacation went all screwy, but I wasn’t sure that I could take one more surprise from Marge.
“Any minute now,” she said.
“What?” I asked. “Just tell me.”
As if in answer to my question, everybody grew silent and music seemed to boom from all around us. I noticed everyone around me was looking up. I had noticed earlier that above us was a huge screen that seemed to go on for blocks. Now, as the music played, energetic, vibrant lights moved across the screen: stars and lines and shapes pulsating to the beat of music. It was so mega cool. I was absorbed in the atmosphere of Fremont Street.
Only a couple of minutes later, and it was over.
“I always forget,” my mother said, “how magical it feels to walk the streets of Vegas.”
My father put his arm around her. “It’s been twenty years at least.”
“That was great,” Celeste said, then she caught my eye. “I’m so glad we got to hang out, Jack and Barbara, but we three need to…um, run a little errand.”
Dang, the fun was over. I felt queasy at the thought of what came next. For just a little while, I’d been blessed with managing to forget our situation. The bus was heading back at ten and we’d hoped to be on board, which gave us very little time to check out the Velvet Jewel.
My mother looked confused. “It’s awfully late for errands.”
“We’re in Vegas,” my father said, “where nothing ever closes. Let the young ones have their fun. Time for the old folks to turn in.” He gave me a wink. “We might spin a few roulette wheels first, win a little fortune, then off to bed for us.”
My mother reached to straighten up my glasses. “Tomorrow is Charlie’s birthday. Let’s all meet for brunch.”
“That sounds great,” I said, hoping I’d be alive and healthy for the grand event.
We winked at my parents and we were on our way.
“We don’t have much time,” Celeste said. “Let’s do this thing, I guess.” She double checked the address on her cell.
In no time we were there, and I could feel my heart beating faster. Just like in the picture, the Velvet Jewel looked kind of shabby, sort of like the places they show on the news with yellow crime-scene tape and angry-looking cops.
“Let’s keep the same routine,” Marge said and turned to me. “Try on some earrings, and mention—oh so casually—that you’ve heard some rumors about a bait-and-switch. You know the drill by now.”
“Yeah, the same routine,” I said, “minus the grand escape with a zillion dollars’ worth of diamonds on my ears.”
“Yes, let’s skip that part,” Marge said. “Now, let the show begin.” She looked as nervous as I felt.
We walked in to find a few late-night browsers peering into the glass counters with sparkly trinkets and huge locks. A woman standing behind the counter was assisting them. There was also a man behind the counter at the far right. He looked up at us as a bell announced our entry.
Beside me I heard Marge gasp, and I froze as I locked eyes with the guy. I’d seen those eyes before. It was the guy from Fountain Square, the one who wants his diamonds back.
Chapter Fourteen
He glared at the three of us with a wild look in his eye.
That was enough to make me scramble, my footsteps keeping step with the pounding of my heart. I was too scared to look behind me, but I was sure Marge and Celeste could not be far behind. We ran out of the store until we were—hopefully—hidden safely from his view among the throngs of partiers that still lined Fremont Street.
At last we dared to stop. Out of breath, we looked around. There was no sign of the guy. Revved up on fear and shock, we talked over one another.
“Are we sure it was him?”
“I’m double positive. He recognized us too.”
“Man, that dude was pissed.”
“Did you see that look he gave us?”
“That was a look that said, You’re dead.”
Celeste carefully looked around to see if he might be coming—or who might be listening. She pulled out a cigarette. “Okay team, let’s think. What exactly does it mean that Scuzzy Stalker Guy apparently works at the Velvet Jewel?”
“That was weird,” Marge said, “to see him in a suit, so professional and all.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, yeah, if you can look professional in that dump of a place. Seems to me, it’s an inside job.”
Marge stared hard in the direction of the store. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“You know, we were lucky in a way.” I pushed my glasses off my nose. “Since he was at work, with other people watching, he couldn’t strangle us right there.” The memory of the dark look that came across his eyes made my heart pound against my chest.
“You’re right,” Celeste said. “If he’d run after us, he’d have blown his ruse with that woman who was working there and with the other customers. They’d have wondered what was up.”
“Unless,” Marge answered thoughtfully, “the woman working there is in this thing too.”
“This is way too complicated,” I told them with a sigh. I was exhausted with the whole shebang. Tired and terrified. Not an attractive quality in a private eye, but it was the honest truth. “I think it’s time we go to the police,” I said. “I’m finished. I give up.”
“And tell them what?” Celeste asked. “That the guy behind the counter at the Velvet Jewel stuck a zillion dollars’ worth of diamonds underneath your bed? That we think he killed a girl? They’d lock us up for being loonies.”
“Yeah. What proof do we have?” Marge asked.
“Well, we…” Drat. I guessed they were right. It did sound kind of crazy.
Marge frowned. “Plus, there’s the inconvenient fact that those little…coffees…aren’t in the possession of the guy that we’re accusing—but in our safe at the hotel.”
“Yeah, that looks really bad,” I said. “Tell our story or keep quiet; either way we’re screwed.”
Happy birthday to me.
“What they’ll want to know is why we didn’t tell them sooner,” Celeste said.
We didn’t have an answer. At least one that sounded good. We could say we were nosy amateur detectives, which was the truth, however, I believed they would frown upon that.
“Too bad we don’t have that stupid coffee bag with us right this very minute,” I said to the others. “I’d give it to him now and be done with this whole mess.” The words had barely left my mouth when it struck me what I’d said. No way would I, Charlotte Cooper, defender of the law, hand over stolen loot to a man who more than likely was a killer—as well as a thief. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was just so tired.
Tired or not, we had to bring this to a close. I had a thought. “One thing we can do, is go back inside that store,” I said.
Marge looked at me, confused. “Okay, girl, you’re crazy.”
“No. It makes perfect sense. This is our big chance to ask the guy some questions without getting shot, stabbed or whatever his choice of silencing people is. What’s he gonna do in front of all those people? He has to play his part—of a guy who’s only working at the cheapo Velvet Jewel.”
“Charlie’s right.” Celeste shrugged. “He might not tell us much, but it’s a way, at least, to get up in his face and try to get some answers.”
“I still say you’re crazy, but I’m in,” Marge gave us a thumbs-up. “One of us can wait outside and be ready to get help in case things go all screwy.”
“Perfect,” I said. “The lookout calls the cops if the other two aren’t out in…let’s say fifteen minutes.”
“That sounds good to me,” Celeste said, already walking toward the store.
Three minutes later, we were back outside the entrance to the Velvet Jewel.
“Marge, you stay out here,” Celeste said. “I’ll go in with Charlie.”
I took a deep breath and went in. Scuzzy Stalker Guy looked up as we entered, as did the female clerk, who was taking out a necklace for a shopper. She nodded politely to us, although I could see a slight frown on her forehead. Which made sense. She must have thought it odd: Three girls run from the store for no apparent reason, then two of them are coming back, like nothing happened.
This was good, though. The woman occupied, our guy behind the far end counter and free for a little chat. Except for the shopper who was now trying on the necklace, no customers were there.
He slicked back his hair and straightened his red tie as we got closer to his counter, my stomach in a knot. He looked so very normal—like a guy who drank beer on the weekends and played cards with his buddies instead of stealing priceless diamonds and shooting women dead.
“Good evening to you ladies.” His smile was polite, but the death stare in his eyes chilled me to the bone.
“Much respect,” he said. He kept his voice low and leaned in closer to us. “I didn’t think you’d find me.” He took out three gold bracelets and laid them on the counter one by one, keeping up the ruse that we were there to browse.
I forced myself to look him in the eye, to let him know that I meant business. “We’re here for some answers. What’s up with the stuff you’re so anxious we hand over? How exactly did you get it? Is there more?” I glanced over at the woman, who was taking out another necklace and chatting with her customer. She was paying no attention to what was going on with us. I turned back to the guy. “Did you kill that girl?”
He dared to chuckle. “Why the hell should I tell you?”
He handed me a bracelet and helped fasten it onto my wrist. I got the shivers.
“I just want what’s mine, and I want it soon, or I’m going to have to hurt you,” he said. “Simple as that.” All the while he smiled—as if he were admiring the exquisite bracelet with the topaz stone.
It definitely qualified as one of the creepiest moments in my life.
“I don’t believe we have anything that’s yours—in a legal sense.” Celeste tried on a bangle bracelet that was gold with a simple band of silver. She held it to the light.
He leaned in a little closer. “It’s nice that you stopped in. We can now arrange a time to do a little business. It’s too bad we can’t do it here, with the cameras and everything. How about tomorrow? Two p.m. at the Kaleidos casino. There’s a slot machine that’s called The Golden Wheel. I suggest you not be late, for your own sake.”
My newfound courage left me. All I could do was nod; pictures of the dead girl kept flashing through my mind.
“I would suggest,” he said, “you keep this between us.” He looked straight into my eyes. “I know where to find you, Miss Charlie Cooper, from Springston, Massachusetts.”
A chill ran down my spine.
Celeste took off the bracelet and handed it to him. “One request,” she said, still keeping her voice low. “Our driver is not a part of this. Please leave him alone.”
The sleazeball thought about it. “As long as you play it right, I’ll leave your guy in peace,” he said. “Just give me back my stuff.”
Celeste gave him a nod. “Tomorrow. We’ll be there.”
As we turned to leave, Celeste grabbed my arm. “Charlie, wait,” she whispered in my ear.
“What?” I turned to face her.
She glanced down toward my arm. I still had on the bracelet.
Just perfect.
“Sorry.” I took it off and handed it to the smirking clerk.
The female clerk looked over at us. We nodded our goodbyes and left the store.
Outside in quiet tones, we told Marge what was up with tomorrow’s coffee date.
“Should we really go?” I asked.
Celeste held her hand to her forehead as if to rub away an ache. “It seems the safest thing to do. I don’t know what he’ll do if we don’t.”
She had a point there.
The next day I’d turn thirty and perhaps this whole fiasco with the diamonds would at last come to an end.
Celeste checked her cell. “Come on. We’d better get to walking if we’re gonna make that bus.”
***
“I need a drink,” I said almost an hour later after we got to the hotel.
“Same here,” Celeste said. “You won’t believe the thoughts that are whirling through my head right now. Perhaps a good strong whiskey will slow those suckers down.”
“Plus, it’s still super early,” Marge turned right toward the bar. “Would be really lame if we went to bed right now. Let’s not forget we’re in Vegas.”
My phone dinged, and I looked down at the screen. “My mother wants to know when to meet for brunch. Is eleven cool?”
“Works for me,” Celeste said, and Marge nodded her okay.
Ten minutes later, we were settled in with drinks. We talked about what show we would like to see and tried without success to get our minds off our problem. One Singapore sling already made me feel somewhat buzzed, but the tight knot of apprehension hadn’t left my chest. No matter what we chose to do, we were surely screwed. We had seen the guy’s face. We knew what he had done. If you know too much, a felon wants you gone.
“Do you think he’ll really take the stuff and just leave us alone?” I asked, staring into my empty glass. “Is he gonna worry that we’ll still go to the cops?”
“Yeah, that scares me too, but he knows we have no proof.” Marge picked up her daiquiri.
“My guess is that he skips town as soon as he has what he needs,” I said. “That way, even if we talk, the cops won’t know where to look.”
“I think you’re right,” Celeste said, “and I think that stinks. That guy should be put away for a long time.”
Marge leaned back in her chair. “Also, the rightful owners deserve to have their coffee back.”
I glanced at the TV screens lined up above the bar. On one, a news reporter stared out at the camera with a doleful look. The TVs had no sound, and I watched mindlessly as a headline in white letters scrolled across one screen: Police Reveal Identity of Woman Slain in Diamond-Fraudster Scheme.
“I can’t believe this,” I said while my jaw fell down.
“What is it?” Celeste asked, looking around.
“Look at the TV,” I whispered to the others.
I sprinted the short distance to the bar. “Could you please turn that one up for just a minute?” I asked the guy mixing a drink. “It’s important. Please.”
