Dangerous Bond (Jamie Bond Mysteries Book 4) (16 page)

Maya headed to her room. "I'm going to change. Be right back."

Jenkins squirmed on the sofa, his eyes darting toward the door.

"Don't even think about it," Sam said, tightening her grip on her Taser.

I think we'd created a monster.

Jenkins blinked in mock innocence. "Think of what?"

Sam narrowed her eyes.

Jenkins yipped like a little dog.

"Spill it, Jenkins," I told him. "Why were you tied up in Heavy Cash's bathroom?"

His bushy eyebrows burrowed down into a frown. "How do you know I was in there?"

I curled my toes away from the edge of my strappy sandals and kicked him lightly in the shins.

"Ow, why are you so violent?" He rubbed his leg.

"And why are you such a slimeball? Answer the question."

"What was it again?"

Charley groaned. Sam flicked on her Taser and aimed it at him.

He held up his hands. "All right, all right. A couple of thugs grabbed me outside The Spotted Pony this afternoon and stuck me in a trunk."

"Who were they?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Well, was it Heavy Cash?" My patience was getting thinner by the moment.

"I don't know. One of them knocked me over the head before I got a good look at them."

I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, but I had a feeling he was. Why hide his kidnappers' identities? That wouldn't gain him anything.

Maya's bedroom door opened, and she walked out to join us. She wore denim shorts and a tank top like I did, except her top was a soft yellow, and she looked refreshed and clean, while I was sure I looked like I'd fallen down a flight of stairs.

"Wow," Jenkins said. "Hot stuff."

"Flattery will not set you free," I told him. "Especially since you lied to me."

He widened his eyes. "No, I really didn't see their faces."

I placed a hand on my hip. "Not about that. About Roger. You had plans to see him the day he was murdered."

Those eyebrows hunkered downward again. "How didja know
that
?"

"Face it, Jenkins. Jamie knows everything," Sam said.

While I wasn't sure that was totally accurate, I liked the sound of it. And it seemed to have the desired effect on Jenkins. He turned a wary gaze my way.

"So did you see Roger the day he died?" I prodded.

Before he got a chance to lie again, Sam turned on her Taser. That was becoming one of my best investments. I would have to look into getting one for each of the girls. I hoped they made pink ones.

"Okay, so I saw him," Jenkins admitted, putting his palms up in a surrender motion. "So what?"

The door opened, and Caleigh walked in. Jenkins did a double take. "Dang, hotties comin' out of the woodwork."

"Focus," I told him. "You were saying you saw Roger?"

He turned his gaze back to me with some difficulty. "Yeah, I saw him, but he was alive when I left."

"Make me believe that," I pushed.

Jenkins's gaze flipped from me to Sam's Taser again. "Look, Roger contacted me a couple of days before his death. He said he would pay out the full settlement on the lawsuit. I asked him why, but all Roger said was that he needed to get his affairs in order. He seemed scared."

Sam and I glanced at one another. Was Roger afraid of Heavy?

"And he had a gun," Jenkins said.

"Roger did? What kind?" I asked.

"Do I look like I know guns?"

I raised a single eyebrow. "Get real."

"Okay, okay, it was a .45. But that's all I know."

That was the same kind of gun that was used to kill Roger. The same kind Heavy owned.

I rushed forward and grabbed his arm. "Come on."

He stood but hesitated to walk. "Where are we going?"

"In the bedroom."

His eyes lit up. "Oh yeah?"

"Ew. Don't even think about it. You're going in there alone."

"I don't wanna."

Sam stepped forward with her Taser aimed at him.

He held up his hands in surrender again. "Okay, take it easy. I'm going." I showed him to my room. Once inside, he took in the surroundings. "Nice digs."

"Glad you like it. Stay here. Don't even think of trying to step out there, or you'll get another shot of voltage," I said.

He nodded and sat on the edge of the bed.

I did a quick inventory of my personal items to decide if there was anything I'd regret locking him up with. My gun and wallet were on me, so other than my hoochie dress and some high heels, it was all good.

I shut the door and turned to face my girls. Caleigh was pacing, Maya was nibbling on her bottom lip, Charley looked deep in concerned thought, and Elaine was going for another mini vodka.

Sam stepped forward. "Now what?" she asked. Her voice wavered with emotion. If I had to guess, the story about being shoved into a trunk wasn't helping her anxiety about Julio any.

"Now we look for Julio," I said decisively.

She smiled her gratitude.

"But I want to keep Jenkins under wraps until we sort this whole thing out."

Charley raised her hand. "I'll stay and keep an eye on him."

"Me too," said Elaine.

That would work, as long as he didn't give them a problem. They didn't have weapons, and I wasn't leaving any with them. Then again, Jenkins wasn't armed either. And he wasn't exactly a heavyweight. The absolute worse he'd do is push one of them out of his way. He wasn't a fighter.

Just to be sure though, I grabbed a chair from the table and propped it beneath the door handle. He wouldn't be able to get through that.

I grabbed my phone. "Okay, let's start with the Gold Bar. What is it, a strip club maybe?"

"No." Maya shook her head. She was staring at her phone. "It's a pawnshop not that far away."

Perfect. "Let's go check it out."

The phrase
What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas
and all of the flashy advertisements for the family-friendly amusement park-like strip fail to give an accurate picture of the rest of Vegas. A town where prostitution is overlooked and gambling is the source of income is bound to have one or two seedier neighborhoods. The type where a single gal would think twice about roaming alone at night. The kind where drug dealers conduct business on each corner. The kind where the Gold Bar was located.

"Are you sure about this?" Caleigh whispered as we turned down a street with two broken streetlamps and three hookers in fur coats and cheap platform heels.

No, I wasn't. But it was the best lead we'd had so far.

It was dark but definitely not quiet. A woman in a cheetah miniskirt, fishnets, and a tube top—those things still existed?—was yelling at someone in an old beige car. She smacked the passenger side door with her purse several times while shouting expletives.

"I am so glad Mom and Elaine stayed at the hotel," Maya whispered loudly enough for me to hear.

I nodded agreement.

We walked in pairs, arms looped together. Sam and I were just a shoe's width ahead of Caleigh and Maya. If Maya and I had stayed in our previous outfits, we could've blended much better with the "working girls."

The stench of rotting garbage crept up on me. There was a Dumpster up ahead, near one of the many bars. The neighborhood was congested with bars, tattoo parlors, pawnshops, and strip clubs. I'd never seen so many in one area before.

We crossed past the angry prostitute, who continued yelling at the guy and beating his car. A pink door opened a few feet up, and loud music boomed from inside. Two men wobbled out. They were dressed similarly in black pants and vests. One had a white T-shirt beneath, and the other was just muscles and tanned skin.

I heard Caleigh suck in an appreciative breath behind me.

But then the men leaned into one another and kissed.

We stepped around them, and Caleigh sighed. "The cute ones are always gay."

Sam pointed to the yellow lighted sign across the next street. The Gold Bar. We looked both ways and jaywalked over.

There were iron bars on the windows and doors, and hanging on the inside were lit neon signs.

Pawn Buy Sell

Turn in your gold for cash

Instant Cash

Sam quickly yanked the door open and entered first.

Caleigh leaned into me. "She's wound tighter than a two-dollar watch."

I nodded and followed her inside. Though, I didn't blame Sam a bit. Just being in this neighborhood had me on alert.

The store wasn't as big as I thought it would be. A narrow pathway sat between huge glass display cases that ran the length of the room. Then there was a few inches of space on each side before another long display case ran along the back wall. Behind this display case was an archway with a ratty red drape covering it, probably leading to a storage room or back office.

"Welcome to the Gold Bar," boomed a voice to my side.

I flinched and looked to my right. Unless the voice was over a speaker or made by an invisible man, I didn't see a person standing there.

Suddenly a man's head appeared at the top of the display case by an array of gold necklaces. The man jumped to his feet, and I flinched again.

He had a headful of thick, wavy brown hair, and the kind of mustaches that you see on villains in comics—the kind they twirl. It covered his top lip and curled at the ends. I would've bet that if he grabbed the tips and pulled it straight and back, it would almost reach the nape of his neck.

"Hi," he said, still in a booming voice. He widened his icy-blue eyes and smiled so bright that the entire expression looked creepy or crazy. He wore blue trousers, a short-sleeve button-down, green suspenders, and a red-and-white polka-dot bowtie. He reminded me of a clown, minus the red nose and makeup.

"Hi," Caleigh said with her natural bubbliness.

"Are you here to pawn, buy, or sell something?" He pointed to his neon sign as he said the words. There was something very over the top with the way he spoke, as if he was on stage and had to project his voice so his audience could hear him.

"Are you the owner?" I asked.

"Yes, ma'am." He flashed a brilliant smile.

"We're looking for someone," I said.

Sam showed him the picture of Julio.

He squinted, looking like he needed a pair of glasses. She handed the phone to him, but holding it close to his face didn't help. He walked to the end of the display case, toward the back of the store. "Sorry, but the lighting over there is terrible."

There had to be four fluorescents in the ceiling.

We followed him to the back, to the horizontal display case, where he turned on a small desk lamp. He bent over and examined the screen under this extra-special light.

"Oh, yes, he was in here yesterday. He pawned a watch."

Sam sighed in relief. I let out a deep breath myself. I imagined we had all been tense, fearing the worst. The fact that Julio had been alive, well, and pawning just yesterday was a positive sign.

"Can I see the watch?" Sam asked.

"Sure." He walked to the end of a display unit and slid open the back. Then he reached inside, pulled something out, brought it over to us, and set it on top of the glass case. It had a gold band with a white mother-of-pearl face and small diamonds along the rim.

Sam nodded. "That's Julio's. I gave it to him back when we were dating." Fury clouded her face. "The jerk."

Well, at least she wasn't sad and scared anymore.

"He didn't get cash," the guy told us. "He traded it for something in the shop."

I glanced at the displays, searching for what he might have wanted. Like a weapon? But I couldn't see anything other than jewelry and collectibles. That might've been a knife at the far end, but obviously it was still here.

"What did he trade it for?" I asked. "A gun?"

"No. Three life-sized department store mannequins."

I blinked at him.

"Three what-now?" Sam asked, obviously as taken aback at that revelation as I was.

"You know, the kind they dress up in store windows?" the guy said.

"Did he say what he wanted them for?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Sorry. Didn't ask." He paused. "It's best not to know sometimes."

I was thoroughly confused. Unless Julio had a secret plastic fetish, I was stumped.

"Was he with anyone?" I asked.

"No. He was alone. And on foot. I remember that because he looked hilarious hauling the three ladies out of here." He chuckled robustly.

I smiled, not sure what to do with this information. Sam, unfortunately, looked as tense as earlier.

"Thank you for your help," I said.

He nodded and picked up the watch. "Have a great night, ladies."

Sam stared at the watch as the guy carried it back to its new home.

"Wait," I said. "How much are you looking for that?"

He paused and glanced from the watch to Sam. "Three hundred."

I lifted one eyebrow. "Let's be realistic now."

He chuckled. "Okay. Two-twenty. Just because I like you gals."

I shot Sam a look. She shrugged.

"Call it two even, and you have a deal."

The guy beamed, and I had a bad feeling he would have let it go for lower.

Sam touched my arm. "You don't have to do that. This is Julio's responsibility."

"Like child support?" I whispered. "Look, this isn't for him. It's for you. I can see how much this watch means to you." I handed my credit card to the guy.

Sam swallowed hard. "I don't know when I can pay you back."

I smiled and gently elbowed her in the ribs. "You don't have to. Think of it as an early Christmas present, and one day you can give it to your little man, if you want."

Sam smiled, and I grinned even wider. I'd almost forgotten what that looked like on her.

The guy finished the transaction and put the watch in a small bag.

We stepped outside and just stood there for a moment, not sure where to go.

"Do the mannequins mean anything to you?" I asked Sam.

She shook her head. Her curls bounced around her face. "Not a darn thing."

"Maybe he's getting into fashion," Maya said.

Sam curled the right corner of her top lip. "I can't imagine that. He was never a snazzy dresser. He'd wear the same jeans for a week, if I let him."

That didn't mean he hadn't changed over these years, but I tended to agree with Sam. New fashion designer didn't seem like an option.

"If he was on foot, he couldn't have gotten far with three awkward mannequins," Caleigh said.

She was right. I walked to the edge of the sidewalk and looked up and down the street.

"Maybe the strip club?" Maya suggested, pointing to a red awning over a dark door.

Sam pursed her lips. "I don't know. He's honestly more of a dive bar kind of guy."

"We've got plenty of those," Caleigh said, pointing to three bars within sight.

Maya wrinkled her nose. "He'd bring the mannequins in with him for a drink?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe?"

"Okay, let's split up then," I said. "Caleigh and Maya, you go into The Tavern and ask around. Sam and I will go into The Pit, and we'll meet back here in fifteen."

Caleigh and Maya nodded, then headed toward the neon-lit place on the right.

Sam and I turned left and pushed through the doors of The Pit. Which was very aptly named. Dim lighting was all that was needed to reveal the sand-ridden floor, dingy bar top, worn stools, and peeling wallpaper. The only customers were a scattering of men slumped over their beers, in varying degrees of age, width, and colored plaid shirts.

Sam and I walked to the bar, where a woman was pouring a beer on tap into a mug. It didn't look chilled, though it looked plenty watered down. She had a pouf of short, curly white-blonde hair on the top of her head. Wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were deeply creased, but she didn't look to be more than forty otherwise. As I stepped closer though, I noticed how tanned and leathery her skin was.

She slid the beer to a pudgy guy at the end of the bar before turning our way. When she did, her eyes narrowed. "You lost?" she asked, suspicion lacing a voice that had seen at least a pack a day for many years.

"Not exactly," I answered. "We're looking for someone."

"What kinda someone?" she asked as she took the pudgy guy's money, rang it into an old-fashioned cash register, and set the change beside his mug.

"His name's Julio," Sam said, pulling out her phone. She swiped on a photo of Julio and their son.

The woman wiped her hands on a rag and stepped over to us, squinting at the picture. She stared at it for several seconds, then shook her head. "Cute kid, but I haven't seen the guy. We don't get many people through here other than regulars, and I'd recognize
him
." The corner of her mouth lifted quickly, suggesting she found Julio Sr. to be cute too. "You can ask around, but as you can see, none of these guys are all that observant."

I glanced around. She was right. No one had even looked up at our entrance.

"Wake up," she shouted and slapped the bar.

The guy at the end flinched. So did Sam and I. One at a table glanced up and then looked away again, as if his drink was the most fascinating thing in his life. Another guy grunted and mumbled something about her being a witch.

The bartender chuckled. "Didn't mean to startle ya. I do that every once in a while to make sure I don't need to haul anyone out on their butts."

"Okay, well, thanks anyway," I said, and we quickly left.

Back on the sidewalk, I took a deep breath before sneaking a quick peek at my phone, checking for any missed calls from Danny. Nothing.

Unfortunately, my peek wasn't so quick that Sam didn't catch it. "Expecting a call from someone?" she asked.

I sighed. "No." Which was sadly true. I was starting to wonder if I'd ever be expecting a call from him again.

Caleigh and Maya emerged from the The Tavern. They spied us and shook their heads. I pointed to the third bar on the street, O'Malley's. We crossed the street, and Caleigh and Maya ran over to meet us.

This bar was similar to the last, with the dim lighting and the gritty floor, but otherwise it looked cleaner. The paint was clean and a crisp white. The bar's wood and the stools shone. Plus the few customers seemed alert and not in some drunken haze, despite the time of the night.

I walked up to the bar and waited for the bartender to finish pouring a scotch on the rocks.

"Excuse me," I said to get his attention.

The bartender was a beefy guy. Bald, thicker around the chest than his middle, he wore what I was quickly beginning to think of as standard dive-bar attire—jeans, a white T-shirt, and an unbuttoned red-and-white plaid shirt.