Green Eyes in Las Vegas (6 page)

“About anything particular?”

“Just whether you know anything more about Crystal’s stalker. And I’d like to talk to some of her friends on the movie.”

“Casino Kings.”

“Yeah. Where’s it being shot?”

“Tremonte. Part of the pit’s portioned off.”

“Ok, well –”

“I can tell you about the stalker now. Crystal never mentioned it to me.”

“Oh.”

Samantha heard the disappointment in my voice and said, “But I’ll text you her friend Minnie’s number.”

“Ok, thanks.”

Well, at least it was a start. We hung up, and Stone said, “I assume that was Crystal’s friend?”

I nodded, and gobbled up another French fry.

“You shouldn’t fib,” he said.

I shrugged. “Wasn’t really a fib. Don’t you ever?”

The corners of his mouth twitched in amusement, but he didn’t answer.

That reminded me. “Speaking of fibs, would you like to go to
a party tomorrow night, honoring Oscar Goodman? I’ve got an invite, and I could do with a plus one.”

Stone
raised one eyebrow. “Party with all the Vegas hotshots? How’d you get an invite?”

I smiled and did a modest hand-flipping thing. “I have my ways.” Stone didn’t look convinced, so I added, “We’ll be going as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

His eyes twinkled and he said, “Sure. We can be Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”

I almost choked on my burger.
Was there a sexy subtext beneath his words, or was that just me? “So you’ll go with me?”

He shrugged. “Why not? It’s a glorified networking event, I might as well try to drum up some business.”

I looked at him skeptically. Stone seemed to be doing pretty well for himself, and I wasn’t sure that his business needed much more drumming up.

Before I could say anything, Stone asked, “When’s your shift?”

“In an hour or so. I guess we should head back to my condo.”

He nodded and said, “I’ll walk you to
The Treasury.”

“You don’t have to.”

“And I’ll walk you back home when your shift ends.”

“It ends at three a.m.”

“Ok.”

I looked at him warily. “Are you
going to escort me around everywhere?”

He leaned back in his seat
and looked at me. “That’s the plan.”

The last time Stone
had escorted me around, my moneybags client Sophia had been paying his fees. This time, I couldn’t afford his services, so I said, “I can’t pay you. I’m not exactly rolling in the dough, remember?”

“That’s ok. You get the special
‘Friends In Trouble Discount.’”

“I still can’t afford this.”

“We’ll work something out.”

I shook my head, no. “I can take care of myself.”

Stone didn’t say anything, so I finished my meal and we headed out.

***

A few minutes later, I’d changed into my uniform, and Stone was walking me to The Treasury.

I’d tried to explain that I didn’t need his presence and that I’d be fine, but Stone just shook his head. Finally, he said, “I won’t always be
here. If something comes up, I’ll need to get to work
.
You can take care of yourself then. But make sure you go to KravMaga class this week.”

I
was on an early shift tonight, and once it started, I entered my zombie-like dealer state. I clapped my hands out behind the blackjack table, dealt cards, and made some kind of joke. At the same time, I allowed myself to wonder just what was going on. Was somebody watching me right now, maybe taking photos of me? Maybe this was what it felt like to be famous – it was as though I were a celebrity, but without the perks.

Thousands of security cameras were scattered throughout the casino floor, and when I glanced up, I could see multitudes of them on the ceiling, their red lights blinking away. If anyone came here to photograph me, I could ask security to pull up tonight’s video footage, and then I’d know who was stalking me.

The thought should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t.

By the time my shift finished, a drunk guy had spilled his pink cocktail all over my uniform. He was a little embarrassed about it, but the pink hardly showed up against the red and black, so it hadn’t been the worst of nights. Plus I’d remembered to tell my manager that I was taking the night off the following evening.

I changed out of my uniform and stepped out into the warm, autumn night. As soon as I took a few steps forward, Stone materialized at my side, and I almost jumped in surprise.

“Where were you?” I asked, but he just smiled.

The thought that I hadn’t noticed Stone was disturbing.
If I hadn’t seen Stone, I wouldn’t see whoever was stalking me. It was all the tourists – they formed a kind of moving, squawking, human foliage, so that even with all those bright neon lights, a guy could hide just about anywhere.

“I’m not going home,” I said, even though he’d probably noticed already. “Nanna sent me a text and asked me to go
and watch her play poker at The Tremonte.” Stone nodded, and kept on walking beside me. Maybe he hadn’t gotten the message yet, so I said, “You really don’t have to come with me. I’ll be fine.”

“It’ll be fun watching Nanna play,” Stone said, and I rolled my eyes.
He was lying; it’d be like watching grass grow. I was only going because of Nanna’s constant bugging.

The Tremonte’s low and medium-stakes poker tables were off toward the back of the gaming area. As I headed that way, I noticed that a large area behind the table games section was partitioned off, and assumed that’s where they were shooting Casino Kings.

Nanna was settled at a table with seven other players, and she waved when she saw me walk in. I waved back and looked around – there was a bar located conveniently nearby, so I grabbed a stool, ordered a club soda, and settled in to watch. Stone sat next to me and ordered a black coffee.

“Long night ahead?” I asked, and immediately regretted the question.

Stone shrugged. “You never know.”

I assumed he was working some job, and I didn’t want to ask for details. He
pulled out his smartphone and began typing away.

“Emails?” I asked.

Stone made a facial shrug. “Some. Plus a bunch of surveillance reports I need to check and some other random stuff.”

The noise of the casino pit was a bit muted in this section. The jingle of slots and occasional whoops, groans and laughter drifted in, but mostly we could hear the chatter at the tables: players calling, raising and folding. I kept an eye on Nanna’s table, but she’d folded and I wasn’t really interested in the other players.

“This game sucks,” I heard someone at Nanna’s table say, and Stone and I exchanged a glance.

More v
oices drifted over to us. The dealer at Nanna’s table was saying, “Please don’t splash the pot,” and Stone and I glanced over to see who the newbie player was.

He wasn’t hard to miss – an obese, red-faced man wearing a bright red-and-white checked shirt. Nanna was good at picking out fools at poker tables, and she was also good at getting them to part with their money.

“Hey,” the red-faced man said to the dealer, “Give me a break, huh? I’m the one tipping you.”

I felt my eyes narrow involuntarily. It wasn’t fun dealing with the clueless, drunk player. The other poker players looked stiff-faced, clearly trying to keep their annoyance in check.

Nanna was tight-lipped. She’s never good at keeping her thoughts to herself, and I could see her emotions fighting an internal battle, the desire to win some money off the guy against the desire to give him a piece of her mind. I smiled to myself.

“Seems like she picked a good table,” I said, more to myself than to Stone.

He grunted something in response, and put his phone away.

A new hand had been dealt, and the play continued smoothly – until Nanna won.

The red-face man was one of the three players still in the game, and when Nanna revealed her hand, he scowled at her and said, “You’re cheating.”

The whole table went quiet and looked at Nanna. I held my breath and hoped that she’d be polite. She smiled and said, “Honey, nobody needs to cheat to win against you.”

The other players laughed, and even the dealer looked suspiciously happy.

“That’s it!” The man stood up and faced Nanna. “You better show me what card you’ve got up your sleeve.”

Nanna said, “And you’d better show us the roast chicken you stole from the dinner buffet.”

She was sitting demurely,
her thin, wrinkled hands folded neatly together, and play had stopped.

The man yelled, “You stupid old bitch! Why don’t you just go and die already?”

The table went quiet and everyone stared at the man.

Nanna said, “Why don’t you go to a fat farm instead of a Vegas buffet?”

I smiled, proud of her but embarrassed at the same time. Two bouncers were heading their way now, and I hoped Nanna would be able to time her “sweet old lady act” perfectly and look helpless. I realized that half the casino floor was watching them, and then suddenly, I felt a chill creeping up the back of my neck. I was being watched.

There was a stillness in the air, and goosebumps
were rising along my arms. I couldn’t make out what Nanna was saying anymore – all the noise blended together into one cacophonous buzz. I turned around slowly, trying to act casual, trying to ignore the pounding in my chest, as I covertly scanned the area for someone with a camera.

And that’s when I saw him. Green Eyes.

He smiled when our eyes met and I stood up instinctively. “Be back,” I managed to mutter to Stone, as I walked toward Green Eyes on autopilot.

It had to be him. The eyes were the same, and so was the height and build. He was wearing a dark, stylishly-cut business suit and a
crisp white shirt. Straight, dark brown hair fell across his forehead, and he leaned against the wall, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched me make a beeline toward him.

I didn’t know what I would say to him. “Did you steal a painting that day?” Or maybe, “Why are you standing there
, watching me?” Or maybe even, “Have you been stalking me and taking my photos?”

I was a few feet away from him when he turned
and disappeared into a nearby corridor.

I quickened my pace and found myself in the same corridor. There were three elevators on the right side
, moving up and down, and a door marked “Fire Escape” next to the elevator closest to me. On the other side of the wall was a door marked, “Employees Only.”

Green Eyes was dressed too stylishly to be a casino employee. He could’ve
taken any of the three elevators, but just in case, I opened the Fire Escape door and looked up and down the flights of stairs.

I couldn’t see anyone, and there were no tell-tale sounds either – no footsteps going up or down, no quiet breathing.

I stepped out and let the door close behind me. A trio of girls in sparkly cocktail dresses stepped out of one of the elevators, and I watched them blankly as they entered the gaming pit.

I took a deep breath. It had been Green Eyes, I was sure of it. And his running away from me didn’t bode well
, either. I wanted to believe that he had nothing to do with any kind of crime, but it was time to stop being so naïve. I looked up, and noticed the camera blinking away on the ceiling. And that’s when I knew what to do.

I headed back to the bar to find Stone typing away into his phone. The craziness at the poker table had died down, the red-faced obese man was nowhere to be seen, and Nanna was playing her cards serenely.

“I need a favor,” I said to Stone as I sat down. “Can you get in touch with the friend of yours who works in Tremonte security?”

He gave me a funny look. “What’s going
on?”

I told him about Green Eyes, and about my plan. He nodded wordlessly and walked off, probably in search of his security buddy.

I watched Nanna’s poker table as I waited. Nanna had just folded her cards. She had a martini glass by her hand, and occasionally, she’d raise the martini glass to her lips, but I never saw the drink diminish.

There was a gorgeous woman sitting at her table now – all big boobs, wavy hair and serious makeup. Every man at the table was glancing at her occasionally, except for a young, curly-haired man sitting next to Nanna. He was chatting with
Nanna in a low voice, saying something I couldn’t hear. I frowned – something seemed off.

Curly had been at the table when the red-faced man had been there, and now he was making Nanna laugh. She flipped her hand and smiled at him, and my suspicion was confirmed. Curly looked far too wide-eyed and sweet to be anything but a con-man.

Stone walked back to the bar and I smiled hopefully. “What’d you learn?”

“Nothing.”

I blinked stupidly. “Huh?”

“I asked my buddy
, Steve, to look up the man in the dark suit standing against the wall, and he had a look.”

“So? Where’d he go?”

“Steve said he couldn’t tell me anything about the man.”

I frowned. “Nothing at all?”

“No. Sorry.”

I took a deep breath. “Nothing?
At all?” I was unable to believe my luck. “Why not?”

“He didn’t say, just that he’s not allowed to talk abo
ut this guy.”

I bit my lip unhappily. “Maybe he’s a whale,” I mused. “Or maybe…”

I let my voice drift off and looked at Stone for suggestions, but he just shrugged.

I sighed
and stared vaguely in the direction where Green Eyes had been. Once again, I’d lost him.

***

A couple of hands later, Nanna came over to the bar. She chatted with Stone for a bit, something about the coffee here being terrible, and I asked how play was going.

“Not bad,” she said, smiling happily.

I looked at her carefully. “And who’s that curly-haired guy you keep talking to?”

“Talking?” Nanna raised her eyebrows. “I thought we were flirting.”

I closed my eyes and groaned softly. I could feel Stone smiling beside me.

Nanna said, “You’re not jealous of me, are you? You’ve got a perfectly nice man right next to you.”

“Thank you,” Stone said.

“I’m not jealous,” I said to Nanna. “I’m concerned. What’s this guy’s name?”

“Nathan Jones.”

“Sounds like a made-up name,” I said. “What’s he want?”

“He doesn’t
want
anything. He’s new to Las Vegas and he’s going to take me out for coffee and a snack after a few more hands.”

I rubbed my temples and tried not to scream out loud. “He’s out to con you,” I
said.

Nanna crossed her arms. “He is
not
out to con me. I’m not stupid, you know.”

Usually
.

Just then, Nathan walked over to us and smiled at Nanna. “Is this your grand-daughter?” he asked her. “You don’t look old enough to be a grandmother.”

I narrowed my eyes, and next to me, Stone coughed suspiciously. Nanna was wearing a sensible mid-length dress and black orthopedic shoes. She’s my Nanna and I love her, but she definitely looks old enough to be a grandmother. She looks old enough to be Nathan’s grandmother; maybe even his great-grandmother.

Nanna smiled and
said, “Oh, stop.”

I looked at Nathan. “What’re you doing in Vegas?”

He glanced at me with his long-lashed, big blue eyes and told me a story about dropping out of college to play professional poker.

“Hmm,” I said. “Good luck with that.”

“Thanks.” He sounded sincere, and I tried not to roll my eyes.

“We should go,” I told Nanna. “Good luck with the rest of the hands.”