Heartache Motel: Three Interconnected Mystery Novellas (Henery Press Mystery Novellas) (7 page)

Read Heartache Motel: Three Interconnected Mystery Novellas (Henery Press Mystery Novellas) Online

Authors: Terri L. Austin,Larissa Reinhart,LynDee Walker

Tags: #Mystery, #mystery books, #british mysteries, #elvis, #detective stories, #amateur sleuth, #cozy mystery, #women sleuths, #graceland, #female sleuths, #mystery series

TWELVE

Daniel glanced up when I entered the room. “Where’s the pizza?”

“Delayed. Rox insisted I come back and rest my foot.” I plopped down on the bed.

“Axton couldn’t tell me anything we didn’t already know.” Daniel glanced down at him. “And I’m not sure the personal information you have on the drag queens was obtained by legal means.” He held up his hand. “And I don’t want to know.”

“Don’t shit on a gift horse’s parade,” Ax said.

I adjusted my foot. “You mixed your metaphors. Sort of.”

Daniel’s phone rang. “Yeah?” After he ended the call, he eyed me. “Your friend, Roxy, got my number from the front desk. The smell of pizza must have jarred her memory, because she suddenly remembered the room number our suspect last used.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “She’s absent-minded like that.”

“You better not have touched anything in that room,” he said, jabbing his finger at me. “Or I’ll haul your ass to jail for obstruction so fast, you won’t know what hit you.”

I widened my eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Special Agent.”

He stormed to the door, but before he could leave, I called out to him. “Daniel, give me your number, just in case something jogs my memory.”

He rattled if off and slammed the door on his way out of the room. I quickly added it to my phone’s contacts.

Ax nudged my arm. “So, did you find anything?”

I snatched a piece of paper and pen from my purse, writing the ghost message.


Nat 3K ♥ 5 p.m.
What does it mean?” he asked.

“Don’t know and it’s driving me bonkers. I want to catch this guy.”

Ax scratched his jaw. “Teager’s on the case. We can finally go home.”

“And we will. If we start back tonight, I’ll be home in time to watch Scotty open presents. But Ron’s murder is going to keep eating away at me. And this doodle. Has to be five this evening, right? Because Selena was our waitress in the bar last night.”

Ax glanced at the message again. “Three thousand dollars? Is Nat short for Natalie? Nature?”

Roxy popped into the room, dropping the pizza on the bed. It smelled delicious and garlicky. Glancing around, she set three Cokes on the nightstand. “Where’s Daniel?”

“Gone. And he was pissed,” I said.

“Maybe we can talk Ma into hitting the road.” She flung open the box lid and snatched a slice of pepperoni.

“Rose wants to tie up loose ends,” Ax said.

She heaved a sigh. “Of course. So, any thoughts on
Nat
? Or the
3K
?”

“A bar maybe? An address?” I asked.

Axton grabbed a slice and shoved the end in his mouth. He ate with one hand as he tapped on his tablet with the other.

Rox and I each ate a couple of pieces. I swallowed two more Tylenol for my ankle. “What’s Ma up to?” I asked.

“No good,” Roxy said. “And singing Christmas carols in the bar. At least she had a great trip, even if it sucked balls for the rest of us.”

We got down to business. Ax plugged all sorts of combos into the search engine, and I scoured the Yellow Pages Roxy’d nabbed from the front desk. Both of us came up blank.

After an hour and a half, he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “I need a break. I’m going to check on Joe.”

I flexed my ankle. “I’ll come with. I should tell Ma it’s time to leave.”

“So, you’re going to give up on recovering the jewels and finding the killer?” Roxy asked.

Frustrated and achy, I didn’t want to give up. Wasn’t in my nature. But I was hitting a brick wall. “I don’t know what else to do. What’s the point of staying here a few more hours and spinning our wheels?
3K
has to mean three thousand. But three thousand what? Surely the jewels are worth more than three thousand dollars.”

Roxy stuck a piece of gum in her mouth. “If the Feds are looking for those jewels, they’ll be harder to fence. Three thousand might be a good price.”

“Sometimes,” I said, “you scare me. And three thousand seems cheap compared to a man’s life. Ron was killed for those stones.”

We left the room and risked the elevator once again. In the lobby, Ax and Roxy parked on the saggy sofa next to Stoner Joe while I hunted for Ma in the bar. Found her onstage singing
We Three Kings
with African-American Elvis and a woman wearing a Beale Street t-shirt.

The bar was only half as full as it had been earlier. I waved my hand, beckoning to Ma. She nodded, but continued to sing, so I limped out of the bar and crossed the deserted lobby, parking myself on the sofa’s armrest.

“How was your day, Joe?”

He flipped through an abandoned deck of cards. “Dude kept winning, hand after hand.”

“Let me see those.” Ax plucked the cards from Joe and thumbed through the deck, inspecting the back. “Marked. See the little indentations? I read about this.”

He handed the deck to me. Sure enough, jacks had one mark, queens two, kings three. “What a cheater, huh?” But something about it finally flashed through my tired brain. Wise men. Kings.
We Three Kings.
“Oh my gosh, I think I have something.”

“Is it contagious?” Roxy asked. With her head tipped back and her eyes closed, she didn’t move.


Nat
is nativity.
3K
are the three kings—the magi—the wise men.”

Her eyes popped open. “There was that nativity scene outside Graceland, on the way up to the mansion.”

I shook my head. “That’s inaccessible. The buses drive right by it, no one’s allowed in the front yard.”

Ax ran a hand over his mouth. “Every church in this city could have a nativity scene. How do you narrow it down?”

“What about the heart?” Roxy asked.

“The first hotel we stopped at,” I said, “the one that canceled our reservation, they had a nativity scene. And a neon heart at the top of the building. The three kings were all Elvis statues. Could that be it?”

“Seems as good an idea as any,” Axton said. “Call Daniel.”

I yanked out my phone and dialed. Straight to voicemail. “Damn. Think he’s still searching the room?”

We all clambered into the elevator. But when the doors opened on the second floor, the hallway was empty.

We got out and hustled to Fake Travis’ room. Roxy placed her ear against the door. “Nope, don’t hear a thing.” Then she knocked on the door, but no one answered.

“Surely they found the message?” Axton shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Call again.”

I called Daniel—left a message this time telling him my suspicions. I hung up and stared at my three compadres. Well, two compadres and Joe.

Ax leaned his shoulder against the wall. “I guess we’ve done all we can?”

“Totally,” Joe said. “We’ve done it all, man. We’ve been there. We’ve lived it and have the scars to prove it.”

“Joe,” I said, “have you been hitting the popcorn balls again?”

“Rosalita Mamacita.”

I spun and holding the wall with one hand, hobbled toward the elevator.

“Where are you going?” Roxy asked.

“I’m going to check out the hotel. Who’s with me?”

Ax glanced at his phone. “It’s almost four o’clock. We should let Ma know where we’re going.”

Roxy texted Ma who was back in The Roustabout. She wanted to go with, natch. So we stopped by and grabbed her as we headed out.

“Fill me in, kids,” she said on the way to the car.

We told her everything. “I could be completely wrong.” I had thrown an arm around Ax’s shoulder to help steady my ankle.

Ma handed Roxy the keys. “Or you may be right on target. They have that conference going on. Things will be crowded.”

“We should set up lookout points around the nativity scene,” Roxy said. She slid behind the wheel and adjusted the seat and mirrors. “Just one question.”

Ma scooted into the passenger seat. “What’s that, hon?”

“What’s this guy look like out of drag?”

THIRTEEN

The hotel was indeed busy. Roxy made a parking spot by driving up over a curb near an empty handicap spot and pulling onto the sidewalk in front of the building. She only stopped when she hit a shrub. The Christmas lights laced through its branches didn’t stand a chance.

As we exited the car, my nerves were on high alert, causing my heart to race and my palms to sweat. Roxy worked a wad of gum as big as a tennis ball and Axton, usually chill and laid back, was a bundle of energy, nervously rotating his neck and stroking his jaw.

Ma had her dander up and her body practically hummed with righteous indignation.

“We’re going to get this son of a bitch. Bring him down. Drop the hammer,” she said, slamming her palm into her fist. “He killed Ron and he’s going to pay.”

I wasn’t sure how we were going to accomplish such a feat, but Axton planned on recording everything with his phone and Roxy was ready to put the smack down on someone. I just hoped that Daniel would make it in time to take over.

Among us, only Joe seemed calm. But Stoner Joe was, well, stoned.

We’d made plans in the car and after walking into the bustling hotel, we put them into action. Ax stood near the front door, Roxy picked a spot by the elevators. Ma would take up post near the blue Christmas trees, and I would stand close to the nativity scene. Joe had one job: stay the hell out of the way.

With my back against the wall to take some of the pressure off my foot, my gaze constantly scanned the crowd. I hoped at least one of us would be able to recognize this guy. But the odds that I was right about the location were miniscule. And even if we caught him in the act, there was no guarantee we could stop him. We had no authority.

I called Daniel again. He still didn’t answer and I wound up leaving a similar message.

My ankle hurt, despite the Tylenol. I’d limped around on it too much today. My nerves jangled with each person who walked past me. Gaggles of them scurried in and out of the conference room directly to my right, blah blah blahing all the way. I kept one eye on the nativity scene without being too obvious, while trying to keep people from slamming into me at the same time.

After forty-five long minutes of rubbernecking at everybody in my vicinity, I was about to call the others and bail. It was just after five and if Fake Travis was going to make the drop off, he’d have done it by now.

Before I could dial Roxy, Joe shambled toward me.

“Dude, I just won Elvis Bingo.” He held up a shot glass with the Graceland gates pictured on it.

I glanced at him, then back to the Elvi magi. “Not now, Joe.”

“I don’t drink much, Rosario. It’s not my drug of choice. But this is very cool and I will treasure it always.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall man walk by the front desk. He kept his head lowered, but his eyes moved over the crowd.

My spidey senses went wonky. Tallish, buzzed blond hair, and sunglasses perched on the top of his head, he only stood out because he was acting a little shady. With his shoulders hunched up to his ears, he zigged and zagged across the lobby, making his way to the nativity scene.

“Are we going to eat soon?” Joe asked. “Because, dudette, I am starving. Like, I could eat a large pizza by myself, you know?”

“See that tall guy?” I kept my eyes on the man. 

“Uh, which one?” he asked.

“The one with the sunglasses on his head.”

“Negatory.”

I dialed Roxy. “He’s wearing a gray jacket, Joe.”

“Yeah?” Roxy answered. “Can we go or what?”

“I think I have him. Grab Ax and Ma and start heading my way.”

“Hey,” Joe said, extending his arm toward the man. “I know that dude.”

I glanced up at him then. “You recognize him?”

“Sure, he’s the waitress from last night. It helps to keep that shit in mind when you need, like, extra chips and whatnot.”

“Go stick by his side. We need him.” I started walking toward the man, but my gait was getting slower.

Joe walked with me. “Is he in trouble or something?”

There was only one thing that mattered to Joe. “He stole Axton’s stash. I think he still has it on him.” I didn’t have time to explain the intricacies of the dead guy, the partner, the jewels. It would be wasted on Joe. But a dime bag? That, he understood.

He gasped. “That’s not cool.”

“I know. Now, go get him.”

“I’m totally on it—”

Just then, the blond man looked up at me and recognition dawned in his eyes. In a flash, he turned on his heel and pushed through throngs of Elvis fans, as he tried to make it out of the hotel.

I ran/hobbled after him, but suddenly, Joe, whom I’d never seen move faster than a tortoise-paced shuffle, took off running. And fast. He darted around people, swiveled his way between groups, and leaped over luggage with his tuque strings flapping behind him. Those long legs of his could haul ass when he wanted. I guessed he just never had incentive before.

He shoved people out of the way, including an older gentleman who toppled over like a bowling pin.

“Sorry,” I said as I hopped by. I didn’t think he was hurt. More stunned than anything else. He shook his fist at Joe’s back.

Axton and Roxy appeared at my side.

Other books

In Arrears by Morgan Hawke
Habit of Fear by Dorothy Salisbury Davis
Manhattan Transfer by John Dos Passos
Christmas Kisses by H.M. Ward
A Bad Bit Nice by Josie Kerr
Highway to Heaven by Harley McRide