Green Eyes in Las Vegas (9 page)

Read Green Eyes in Las Vegas Online

Authors: A.R. Winters

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Humor - P.I. - Las Vegas

 

Chapter
Thirteen

 

Once I got back to my condo, I parked, removed the gun and pepper spray, and walked over to The Tremonte to meet Sam Rampell.

The set looked different now, somehow more chaotic. There were people running around
; a fight scene was being shot and a cameraman with a camera dolly was following the actors. I noticed Minnie trying to apply makeup to three different girls at once. Sam stood and watched, alternating between saying things to the cameraman and actors, and putting his hands on his head and looking frustrated.

He nodded when he saw me, and I went over to him and waited silently till the scene was over.

“Can I talk to you in a few minutes?” he said. “I’m just trying to wrap up a few more scenes before the extras have to take off. I’m only paying them for half the day.”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll talk to the actors who weren’t here this morning.”

I did that for the next hour or so, and it was mind-numbingly boring. I learnt nothing new, and had to keep introducing myself over and over again. I was getting nowhere, so it was a relief to hear Sam yell, “Take five, people!”

I was at his side quickly, and he smiled at me, the force of his charisma hitting me like a gust of strong wind.

“I’m all yours,” he said. “At least for the next five to ten minutes.”

I smiled. “Tell me about Crystal.”

His brown eyes grew thoughtful, and he stared off at a point behind me. “She was lovely. Gorgeous person, good actor. I knew she’d hit it big, and I wanted my movie to be her first. She could’ve done so well in Hollywood.”

He let out a disappointed sigh and looked back at me.

“If she was so good,” I said, “Why not give her a bigger role?”

Sam smiled. “She was good, she just needed to prove herself.”

“Do you think anyone might’ve been jealous of her? Did she have any enemies?”

He looked at me thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. I don’t think she was famous enough to have haters, but it’s possible. Maybe someone new met her and didn’t like that she’d get a role here.”

I nodded. So far, everyone I’d talked to on the set seemed to either have liked Crystal or been unaware of her existence, but maybe someone at the strip club had learnt of her new role and become jealous.

“How about you?” I said. “Do you have any haters?”

Sam smiled. “Just about everyone on set hates me. I’m the director, it’s my job to be hated.”

I couldn’t help liking this guy. “I talked to a guy named Rupert today. Know him?”

Sam squinted at me and shook his head, no.

“He’s a photographer. Maybe you forgot his name – he said Crystal hired him to take her photos? Pretend to be a stalker?”

“Ah, yes.” Realization dawned on Sam’s face. “I remember that thing.”

“Oh, so you knew about it?”

“Yeah.” He smiled wryly. “Who d’you think gave Crystal the idea?”

I nodded. “So he was just a hired hand.”

“Essentially. I knew Crystal could be big, but she needed to build up buzz.”

“Then why was he fired after just one set of photos?”

Sam shrugged. “Crystal got what she wanted. I told her it was better to have a stalker here, briefly, and then hire someone again once the movie came out.”

“Hmm.” I looked at him thoughtfully. It kind of made sense. Well, not really. I didn’t get all this Hollywood business, but it was clear that Rupert didn’t have anything to do with the murder.

Sam looked at his watch. “Did you have any other questions? I’d like to grab a drink and get back to work, if you’re done.”

“Oh yeah, I understand. One other thing, where were you that night?”

Sam looked at me, puzzled, and then he smiled. “You mean like my alibi?” He chuckled. “The detective I talked to asked me the same thing. I was out at dinner with Jack and Ben, the producers, and then we hit up a bar and had some drinks.”

He was smiling, but I was worried that my question might’ve offended him, so I said, “Thanks, I’m asking everyone that, so I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not all. Give me a buzz if you want to ask me anything else, I’m happy to help.”

He handed me his card and signaled a waitress, and I went to say hi to Minnie. She was busy giving a guy a real-looking black eye, and I showed her my list of names. There was a tick beside the names of everyone I’d talked to, and there were only a few names without ticks now.

“Seems like you’re being really thorough,” Minnie told me. “I saw you earlier, shuttling from one person to another.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Big help that’s been, though. No-one here knows anything.”

“It was worth a shot,” Minnie said. “Hope you find out something.”

We said goodbye and I headed home. So far, the Hollywood side of Crystal’s life hadn’t turned up anything, and I wondered if her secret stripper life might turn up something. There was still that pile of mail Max had given me, and though I hate paperwork, I figured it was time to go through it and find out if it held any secrets.

Chapter Fourteen

 

I stopped by Glenn’s apartment on my way home, and handed him the sprinkles I’d picked up for him the other day.

“You’re just in time,” he told me. “I’ve made a big batch of triple-chocolate cupcakes, they’re a bit too sugary but I think you’ll like them.”

“I think I’ll
love
them,” I said. “No such thing as ‘too’ sugary.”

“Wait here and I’ll get them for you. And my lady friend’s here, too, so now you can meet her.”

Glenn took the sprinkles from me and disappeared. He returned in a few minutes, holding a big plastic box that I knew contained at least a half-dozen big cupcakes, a woman at his side.

“These are for you,” he told me, handing over the box.

I peered inside. Big, dark cupcakes, looking and smelling delicious. I smiled.

“Namaste,” the woman was saying, and I looked up.

I’d been so blinded by the cupcakes that I’d completely ignored her, and I felt mortified by my rudeness.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I got distracted by these.”

I lifted the box to indicate, and looked at her carefully, trying not to appear judgmental.

Glenn’s girlfriend wasn’t the vacuous twenty-something
-year-old I’d expected. I pegged her at about fifty, maybe late fifties. She looked like an aging flower-child, with hip-length brown hair streaked with grey, a floor-length gypsy skirt, and a white t-shirt that showed off her slender figure. She wore no makeup, her pale skin was wrinkled, and her cornflower-blue eyes were smiling at me.

“You must be Tiffany,” she said. “I’m Karma.”

“Oh?” My eyebrows shot up a little. “I always expected Karma to look different.”

She smiled, refusing to take offense, and said, “I get that a lot.”

I felt ashamed of my jab immediately, and said, “So that’s really your name? Your parents named you Karma?”

“Oh no, they named me Kristine. I changed it to Karma as soon as I could.”

“It must’ve seemed like a good idea at the time.” I tried not to sound too disapproving. We all do crazy things when we’re young. 

“Oh
, it was a great idea,” Karma said. “I’ve been blessed – or should I say cursed – with second sight. It’s happened through my years of transcendental meditation.”

“Uh-huh.” I nodded politely and glanced at Glenn, who was smiling. I remembered his admonition to be nice, and said to Karma, “That must come in handy.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “For instance, that’s how I met Glenn. You see, I had a strong sense that something good would happen if I moved into this building.”

“You mean, beyond the cheap rent and closeness to the Strip?”

She laughed, a light, tinkling laugh. “I see you’re a skeptic.”

“What gave that away?” I tried to hide my annoyance behind a polite smile.

Karma leaned forward and looked into my eyes. “I see things in your life, too. You have a darkness in your life, and danger in your future.”

“See that
, Tiffany?” Glenn said. “Isn’t that spot on?” He turned to Karma. “Tiffany’s a private investigator. She deals with danger all the time.”

I said, “I could’ve been an accountant with a sexually troubled past, and an angry boss.”

Karma smiled. “You’ll see. Someday you’ll believe me. Just as someday you’ll understand that what you’re holding there in that box is poison. Sugar will kill you slowly from the inside.”

I frowned, unable to help myself. Crazies, I can deal with. Insults to me, I can understand. But how dare she insult Glenn’s cupcakes?

I bit back a response, turned to Glenn and said lightly, “Can I speak to you outside for a second, please?”

“I’ll be back, honey,” he said to Karma, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“I’ll miss you,” she called, as he stepped out into the hall with me and closed the door behind himself.

I walked a few paces toward the elevator with Glenn, and then turned to face him.

Before I could say anything, he put up his hands and said, “I warned you she was a bit different.”

“But why are you
dating
her? She’s nuts!”

Glenn shook his head. “She’s not nuts, she’s just very talented. And you know, she really can predict things.
She saw things in my past that I hadn’t told her.”

I rolled my eyes. I didn’t care if the woman was pretending to be a psychic. What I cared about was that she was dating Glenn.

“Why her?” I asked. “Can’t you date someone normal?” Glenn looked offended, and I immediately added, “I’m just concerned for you.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m doing fine.”

I placed my hand on Glenn’s forearm and said, “I’m sorry, I do want you to be happy.”

Glenn smiled. “It’s ok. Besides, aren’t you happy she doesn’t like sugar? If she did, there’d be fewer cupcakes for you.”

“You’re right,” I said thoughtfully. “I’m glad she thinks sugar is poison.”

We said our goodbyes, and I headed up to my condo. Even the delicious-looking cupcakes couldn’t displace my concern about Karma. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm, but I worried that she might turn Glenn off sugar too, or maybe hurt him somehow.

I was so engrossed in thinking about Karma as I unlocked my door and opened it, that I almost missed the white envelope lying in the middle of the floor.

It was right there, staring up at me benignly, and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My condo was cool
, despite the Vegas heat outside, and I’d drawn the curtains before leaving, so it was slightly dark. I opened my eyes again and held my breath, waiting to see if I could hear anything – any noises out of the ordinary. There was the dripping of the bathroom tap, and the drone of a TV next door, but no muffled psychopathic giggling or quiet breathing.

There was probably nobody inside, but I still walked through the room quietly, up to the bedroom door and peeked inside. It was dark and empty. I checked through the bedroom, under the bed, inside the closet, behind the curtains and inside the bathroom. Nobody.

The pounding in my chest began to slow down a little, and I gulped. I walked back to the front door, closed it, and sat down weakly on my sofa. I remembered Karma telling me that I would have danger in my future. I cursed Glen silently for dating her, and wished I’d never met the woman.

The box of cupcakes was sitting on the coffee table in front of me, and I snapped it open and gobbled
one down. It was delicious, moist and chocolatey. I was feeling a bit better, so I ate another one. Better still. I was debating whether to eat one more, but then I remembered that I had a party tonight, and I might as well try to save some space for the free food.

I looked at the envelope lying on the floor again and took a deep breath. I might as well get it over with. I was just about to pick it
up when my cellphone rang loudly, shattering the quiet.

I sat up straighter, and my heart started pounding loudly again. It’s just a phone call, I told myself, and pulled the phone out of my bag.

The caller ID said “Emily” and I answered it nervously.

“Are you ok?” Emily said. “You sound funny.”

“I’m fine.” I took a deep breath, and then exhaled. I just needed to remember to breathe, that was all.

“I’m calling about those prints. On the photos and that message?”

My ears perked up eagerly. “Yeah?”

“I’m afraid I have bad news.”

I frowned. “How bad?”

“There aren’t any.”

We were both silent for a few seconds, and then I said, “No prints? None at all?”

“None at all.” Emily paused and then said, “Whoever sent them must’ve been wearing gloves. They were very careful.”

“Oh.” I tried not to think about what that meant, and I glanced at the box of cupcakes. I needed to stay calm. Now was
not
the time to panic. Maybe later I’d panic, but not now.

“You ok? Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. Well, it’s good to know that someone
careful
is stalking me.” I didn’t feel as glib and lighthearted as I sounded. But maybe if I faked it, I’d feel it soon.

“Be careful, Tiff.” Emily sounded like she was frowning. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I never do anything stupid,” I said. “Thanks for telling me about the prints.”

We hung up, and I looked at the envelope again. Somehow it seemed more menacing now, mocking me with its blank, fingerprints-less whiteness.

“You can have more cupcakes once you get see what’s in there,” I told myself, and the bribe worked. I opened the envelope.

At first, there were just more photos of me. Me meeting
Stone, eating my burger and talking to Stone. Walking up to The Tremonte, entering The MontePatria Casino, heading back to my condo.

There were a
lot
of photos of me. I wondered how I’d missed the photographer, considering that I’d been looking over my shoulder every five minutes or so. But it’s easy to get lost in a crowd of snap-happy tourists, and these snaps were probably taken with a telephoto lens.

At the end of the snapshots, there were a couple more photos of me, my face blown up to almost fill the whole frame – but this time the guy had gotten a bit more creative, and had
used photo editing software to add in a knife held against my throat. Any other time, I would’ve laughed – the photo manipulation was amateurish, and the knife didn’t look very realistic. But this wasn’t any other time, and I frowned and bit my lip. I didn’t like where this was going, and even though he wasn’t good with Photoshop, the guy had made his point.

And just to rub in that point, after the
creative pictures there was a piece of paper with a one-line message on it: “You’ll never know when.”

I ate two more cupcakes but they just made me feel sick. Maybe Karma was right, maybe
what I’d just eaten was poison.

I sat curled up against my ratty sofa for some time, not liking how I was feeling, trying not to think about the message, but in the end I picked up my phone and tried to stop my fingers trembling long enough to call Stone.

I told him about the new envelope, and he was silent for so long that I thought maybe he’d hung up. But then he said, “Has Emily gotten back to you about the prints?”

“No go. The guy must’ve been wearing gloves.”

Stone swore softly. “I was hoping we’d get prints.”

“It’s a minor setback,” I said lightly. “He can’t always be careful.”

On the other end of the line, Stone was silent again.

“You could say something to cheer me up,” I suggested, but Stone was still silent.

Finally, he said, “I can’t always be there, so I’ll get one of my guys to stick with you from now on.”

I appreciated the concern, but I didn’t like feeling dependent on Stone
—especially when I wasn’t paying for his services—so, of course, like an idiot, I said, “No, it’s fine. I can take care of myself.”

There was a brief second of silence, and then Stone said, “I’m coming round at seven, are you stepping out before then?”

“No.”

“Ok.”

He hung up, and I ate another cupcake, appetite for dinner be damned.

I took a hot shower, found a dress to wear to the dinner, made my bed and vacuumed the condo. Finally, when I
ran out of other things to procrastinate with, I sat down with the papers Max had given me.

There was a notebook among the papers, and I pulled that out first. I was hoping it’d be a diary
, detailing all of Crystal’s secrets and shedding light on the murder, but it turned out to be a day planner. It could still be useful, I told myself, and flipped through the pages. It was completely blank.

I took a deep breath and
tried to stop myself from throwing the empty day planner at the door. Maybe someone had given the day planner to Crystal, maybe she thought it made her look more successful, or maybe she carried it around hoping its organizational skills would transfer over to her through osmosis. Either way, it was zero help to me.

Next, I sorted through all the papers. There were bills and bank statements, copies of Crystal’s resume, a file containing large, professional photos of Crystal, a postcard, and a photo of a chubbier, older version of Crystal with three kids and a man with a receding hairline. I figured that was Crystal’s sister Carol,
with her kids and husband.

I went through Crystal’s resume with a
n ironic smile. She’d gone to high school in Nebraska, and then moved straight to LA. She’d been a waitress for a while, but she’d quit that job two years ago. I guessed that was when she discovered the profitability of being a stripper. I noticed she’d also had roles as an extra in three movies, two of which had been directed by Sam Rampell. That’s probably how he’d noticed her, and decided to give her a minor speaking role in Casino Kings. 

There were two bills – one from the Screen Actors’ Guild
, informing Crystal that her fees were due, and a copy of her cellphone bill. Neither of these told me much, other than the fact that Crystal was part of the SAG, and that she had an expensive, latest-model cellphone which she used pretty frequently.

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