Vegas or Bust: An Aggie Underhill Mystery (9 page)

“That’ll be lovely!  It’ll be one less thing Sarah will have to worry about making.” 

“Will Anita be there?”

“Oh, God, let’s hope not, dear,” Aggie said.  “I’m not sure I could handle both Linda and Anita at the same time.”

Betty tapped on her phone with her long lavender fingernails.  “Roger said that he and Jack are on their way down.  He said that Jack’s pretty sloshed, but wants to speak with you.”

“Sloshed?  As in drunk?” Aggie asked, following Betty across the room.
“According to Roger he hit the champagne that was reserved for the reception.  He’s already halfway through his second bottle.”

“That’s odd.  Why are they on their way down?  It’d be much easier if we went up to his room,” Aggie said, dodging a slew of young women wearing way too much eye shadow, dark red lipstick and short skintight skirts with low cut painted on tops.  By the look of them, she’d bet that they hadn’t gone to bed yet, and had been partying since last night.  Las Vegas really was the city that didn’t sle
ep.  Or was that New York?  She wasn’t sure which.  Regardless, people were still partying. 

“For some reason, Jack insists on coming down here.  I told Roger that we’d meet them in the hall by the elevators.”

Fifteen minutes later, Jack stumbled out of an elevator with a bottle of Champagne in his hand.  Roger had an arm around him to keep him from falling over. 

“Sorry we took so long,” Roger said.  “Jack was having trouble opening the bottle.”

“Hi Aggieee… Beeettttyy…” Jack slurred, smiling while stumbling out of the elevator.  He was still in his tuxedo, but he no longer had on his bowtie and the top half of his shirt was unbuttoned and partially un-tucked.

“Is he allowed to carry that around?” Aggie asked, nodding at the bottle Jack was holding. 

“Beats the hell out of me,” Roger said, shrugging.  He grabbed hold of Jack, and draped Jack’s arm over his shoulder before he could trip over his own feet.  “Steady old boy.  Lean on me.  I don’t think I can lift you if you go down.”

Jack leaned.  He leaned hard.

Roger’s knees almost buckled beneath Jack’s weight.  Jack wasn’t a big man, but he was tall and slim, and he outweighed Roger’s 5’9” medium built frame.  “Okay, don’t lean too much.  Jeez, man!” 

“Maybe I should take that for you,” Aggie said, eyeing Jack’s bottle of Champagne.  She grabbed hold of it and tried to pry it from his hands.  Being that he was beyond drunk, she was surprised by his firm grasp.  He wasn’t letting go.

“Nooo,” Jack said.  “Dude…man…I’ve got it.”

Aggie scowled.  “No, I insist,” she said and stubbornly yanked the bottle out of his grasp. 

For a moment Jack held his hands up in front of him and examined them as if looking for the bottle that had magically disappeared.

“I’ll hold it,” Betty offered.  “Give it here.”

“Thanks, dear.” 

“My Miriam,” Jack said, tears filling his red, bloodshot eyes.  “This was her dream wedding.” 

“I’m sorry, dear,” Aggie consoled.  Again, she didn’t understand why Jack wanted to talk to her down here instead of privately in his hotel room. 

“I couldn’t stand to spend one more minute in the Honeymoon Suite without her,” he sobbed, answering Aggie’s unasked question.  Now it made perfect sense to her as to why he was stumbling around down here instead of staying in his room.  But she still felt that they needed to be in a quiet place, away from the crowded casino, to talk about Miriam’s disappearance.  It was such a delicate matter.  They shouldn’t be in the middle of loud party goers and gamblers.

“Jack, dear, I wanted to ask you a few questions regarding Miriam.  Maybe we should go find a place that is a bit more private, away from the lifts.”  People kept pouring into the hallway to either enter an elevator or get off of one.  It was a bit distracting and hard to concentrate with people chatting noisily and pushing past them.  Besides, Roger looked as if he’d collapse soon.  He was doing his best at holding Jack up.

“Okay, let’s go then,” Jack said, swinging his hand in the air and pointing at the ceiling.  He let go of Roger and stumbled in the direction of the casino.  “Follow me.  I’ll find us a quiet place.”

“Wait, Jack,” Aggie said, catching up to him.  “I meant away from the casino.  Why not go back to your room and speak privately?  I know the Honeymoon Suite makes you feel uncomfortable and sad, dear, but it’s much more private.”

“Miriam,” Jack said.  “My Miriam wouldn’t leave me at the altar.  She loves me.  No matter what my brother or Mama says.  And I love her…and…and…”

“I understand,” Aggie said.  “Let’s go back upstairs.” 

Jack wasn’t listening.  Either that or he didn’t understand her with all of the alcohol coursing through his veins and muddling his brain.  “I can’t believe she’d run away.  Not on our wedding day.  It was her idea…she loves me…”

“Her idea for what?” Aggie asked as Jack turned and stumbled down a row of dollar slot machines.  He didn’t answer.  “Jack?  Jack!”

As if noticing her for the first time, Jack spun around and stared at Aggie.  So did a little old lady playing a Wheel of Fortune slot machine.  She blinked up at Aggie with enormous blue eyes behind big Coke bottle lenses.

“What was Miriam’s idea?” Aggie asked again.

Jack’s face crumpled and tears flowed down his cheeks.  “She left me at the altar.  She doesn’t love me anymore.  My Mama was right.  She left me standing there like an idiot.”

“Some women!” the old lady said, shaking her head.  “They give those of us good women a bad name!”

Aggie looked at her.  “She didn’t leave him.  She was kidnapped.  And I’m going to prove it.”

“Still,” the woman said.  “She should’ve been more careful.  These girls’ now-a-days, wearing provocative clothes and all.  Can you imagine letting yourself get kidnapped on your wedding day?  That never would’ve happened back ‘n the day.”

“What?”  Aggie threw the woman a look of disbelief and pushed past her, ushering Jack down the row.  Betty and Roger walked behind them.  “Jack, concentrate,” Aggie prompted.  “You said that it was Miriam’s idea.  What did you mean by that?  What was her idea?”

“To get married,” he said, stopping by the Black Jack table.  “She wanted to get married in Las Vegas.  It was her dream.  And I like Elvis…he’s great…and…”

“Okay,” Aggie said.  “And why was it so important to invite me?  You mentioned in the chapel that Miriam wanted me at your wedding.  You said she’d be relieved.  That’s an odd sort of thing to say to a guest.”

Jack pushed between two empty chairs at a five dollar Black Jack table.  A scantily dressed woman wearing gobs of gold sparkling eye shadow and thick false lashes, smiled at them with collagen enhanced lips.  Jack pushed the palms of his hands to the green felt table and was eye level with her cleavage.

“She was afraid…huh…that…blah…,” was all that Jack managed to say before heaving his guts out all over the Black Jack table.  “She didn’t want her ex to ruin the wedding…
blahhh…ugh…and you were so brave on the cruise…bleckkk…and…uhhh…” 

“Oh, God!” Aggie could hear Roger shout.  To avoid the backsplash, she leapt backwards right into both Betty and Roger, almost knocking them over.  The dealer at the table looked mortified as puke splashed up onto her low cut blouse.  She waved her hands around in disgust and then reached for her
Walkie Talkie.  She began to report her need for back up, but before she even finished, two men dressed in black; a burly, gruff looking bald man with a nasty purple scar that cut across his face and a short, stocky guy with a full head of thick black hair, had arrived.  They lifted Jack up from under his arms and hauled him away.  Aggie could hear him dry heaving as they escorted him out of the casino.

“That was a fast response,” Aggie said, watching the two men disappear into the ever growing crowd of gamblers that were gathering around the puke covered table to see what all the commotion was about.

“They probably saw it happen on the surveillance video,” Roger said, looking around for the hidden camera, “and already had their security team in motion.”

“I guess so,” Aggie said, feeling that his explanation seemed plausible enough.  She highly doubted that the casino would want one of their Black Jack tables out of commission for too long.  It would mean a loss of money.  But she was also bothered by something else.  It was something that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.  Then it hit her.  She knew what was bothering her.  She’d seen the bald man before.  She recognized the purple scar.  He was the man that had almost run into them in the parking garage.  Roger had been wrong.  The driver wasn’t some tourist with a car full of party goers.  He was just a grumpy man that was tired after a long day at work, who was carpooling, and wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing.  For now, she felt she’d keep this information to herself.  She didn’t want Roger to make a scene in the casino.  She could just picture him flagging the man down to tell him off.  The last thing she wanted was for all of them to get banned from the casino.

“That was so awful!  Do you think we should we follow them?” Betty asked, looking around for the two guys that just hauled Jack away.  “I hope he’s okay.” 

Roger pulled a face and glared at Betty.  “It’s not
my
fault he drank too much.  Can you imagine what the bill will be to clean that mess up?”

“I doubt they’ll charge him,” Aggie said.  “They’ll probably just ban him from the casino until he sobers up.”

“I don’t know.  I’m not taking any chances.  He’ll probably have to pay the dealers’ dry cleaning bill, also,” Roger said.  “Besides, it’s not like you were getting any answers from him anyway.” 

“That’s not true,” Aggie said.  “I’d gotten what I needed answered.”

“We can check on him later,” Roger said.  “Give him some time to sober up.  Maybe take him to dinner if he’s up to it.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” 

“Poor Jack,” Betty said.  “I feel so bad for him.”

“Poor Jack?  Poor me,” Roger said, scrunching up his nose and waving a hand in front of it.  “I can’t get the smell of puke out of my nostrils.  I need to go outside and get a breath of fresh air before
I
throw up.”

Chapter 9

Roger, Betty and Aggie spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening walking the Las Vegas strip, taking in the breathtaking sights and exploring the different casinos.  On the way back to Planet Hollywood they stopped in front of the Bellagio Hotel to watch the fountains.  Every fifteen minutes, there was a new water show with gorgeous fountains shooting water up into the sky, the water swaying to the music. The three of them watched in awe when the water came to life.  Fountains jumped, swayed, moved and lit up, as if the water was alive while beautiful music floated on the cold crisp air.  They stood in front of a black wrought iron fence and watched.  Betty snapped several photos with her pink digital camera. 

“I’m getting hungry,” Betty said, glancing at her watch.  “I told Anita that we’d meet her at seven.”

“All right,” Roger said, twitching his mustache.  “My nose is frozen anyhow.  Getting out of the cold sounds good to me.”

“I’ve been worried about Jack,” Aggie said, zipping her leather jacket up against an ice cold breeze.  “I hope he’s heard from Miriam.”

“Me too,” Betty agreed.  “Let’s check on him before we go to dinner.  He might be feeling well enough to come with us.”

“Doubt it,” Roger said.  “I bet he’s got one hell of a headache right about now, if he’s even awake.  Can you imagine what his hangover is going to be like?”

***

Sniffling, Sylvie packed her suitcase.  She knew when she wasn’t wanted and had no intentions of sticking around.  If Jack didn’t want her help, then she had no reason to be here.  It wasn’t her fault that he chose the wrong woman to marry.  If he’d have asked for her opinion in the beginning then none of this would’ve happened.  And now the awful woman left him at the altar, making a fool out of him. 

Dabbing at her eyes with a wad of tear-soaked toilet paper, she winced.  Her mascara and eyeliner was running and stinging her eyes.  Sylvie entered the bathroom, scooped up her toiletries and added them to her makeup bag.  She glanced in the mirror and cringed.  Her eyes were red and swollen.  She decided that she should probably reapply her eyeliner before leaving.  She always believed in looking her best at all times.  Appearances were very important.  Taking the eyeliner back out of her makeup bag, she stopped.  She had a better idea.  She was going to go see Jack before she left.  She’d wheel her luggage with her to make a point.  Once he got a look at her packed bags, her bloodshot eyes, and the makeup running down her face, he’d really feel bad for what he put her through. 

Sylvie tossed her makeup bag into her suitcase and zipped it up.  Doing one last sweep of the room, she made sure she hadn’t forgotten anything and then headed down the hall to Jack’s room. 

***

“This is it,” Roger said, knocking on the door.  The three of them waited quietly for Jack to answer.  When he didn’t, Roger knocked again. 

“Maybe he’s asleep,” Betty said.

“Maybe,” Aggie said, but didn’t really believe it.

“He’s either sleeping or puking,” Roger said, smoothing his mustache with his forefinger, “if he’s not in the hospital with alcohol poisoning.”

“Roger!” Betty said.  “That’s an awful thing to say.  Try knocking again.”

Roger knocked again. 

Sylvie came up behind them.  “He’s not talking to you either?”

“There’s no answer,” Betty said. 

“I don’t understand.  This is not how I raised him,” Sylvie said, hands flying up in the air as she spoke. 

Aggie bit her bottom lip to keep from saying something completely rude about Sylvie’s job of raising children.  Her mind wandered to Sylvie’s older son, Brice, who was sitting in jail right now for doing unspeakable things.  He was a real gem of a man.

In a huff, Sylvie pushed past Roger and pounded on the door.  “Jack!  Jack it’s your mother!  Open up, Jack!  You have friends here!”

“Sylvie,” Aggie put her hand on the woman’s shoulder, “when was the last time you spoke with Jack?  We were a little concerned about him after he threw up in the casino, but figured it was best to let him rest awhile before coming to see him.  We didn’t want to be a bother.”

“My Jackie threw up?” Sylvie asked, pressing a hand to her heart.  “My poor heartbroken baby!”

“Heartbroken?  He was drunker than a skunk.  And you don’t look so hot yourself.  What’s with the makeup?  You look like…” Roger said, stopping when Betty elbowed him in the ribs.  “Ouch, what did you do that for?” 

Betty scrunched up her nose and gave him a look.  “You know why.  She’s been crying,” she hissed.  “Sylvie, you look great.  Don’t pay attention to him.”

“Jack had a little too much to drink,” Aggie explained. 

“Jack!  Jack!”  Sylvie pounded on the door again.  “All right, I gave him a chance to answer.  I’m going in,” she said, digging in the front pocket of her purse.

“You’re going in?” Roger asked. “You have a key?”

“Of course I do,” Sylvie said, swiping the keycard in the door.  “I’m his mother.”

“But this is the honeymoon suite…why would you have a key?”

The door clicked and Sylvie pushed it open.  She stormed into the room, wheeling her luggage behind her.

“That’s just wrong!” Roger said and then turned his head and whispered to Betty and Aggie who were standing behind him.  “Who knows?  Maybe Miriam
did
run away.  I mean, who in their right mind gives their mother the key to the honeymoon suite?”

Betty and Aggie looked at one another and shrugged.  Even though Aggie thought the bond between Jack and his mother was an unhealthy one, she doubted that Miriam ditched Jack at the altar.  From what she knew of Miriam, she wasn’t the world’s best catch either.  Aggie still believed there was some sort of struggle that had occurred in the honeymoon suite the night before the wedding.  The only part of the puzzle that stumped her about Miriam’s kidnapping was that there was no ransom note.  And as far as she knew, Jack hadn’t been contacted about a ransom.  Maybe she should ask Miriam’s side of the family.  Her grandmother had been pretty upset at the wedding.  A kidnapper usually wanted something out of the act.  What was the point of kidnapping someone without a reward for it?

They followed Sylvie into the room.  The lights were on and two empty Champagne bottles were sitting on a nightstand next to the king sized bed.  The bed was made, but the blankets were crumpled and the pillows were stacked on top of one another as if they had been used as a backrest. 

“Maybe he’s feeling better,” Betty said.  “He might have gone out to get something to eat.”

“Doubt it,” Roger said while looking around and then picking up one of the empty Champagne bottles.  “If he went anywhere it was to buy some aspirin for his hangover or some Pepto-Bismol.”

“Jack?  Jack!” Sylvie knocked on the bathroom door and then opened it.  It was empty.  “This isn’t like my Jack.  He’s always so considerate of his mommy’s feelings.  He would’ve told me if he was going out.  Jackie tells me everything.”

Aggie gnawed on her lower lip.  She wasn’t sure what to make of things. 

“This is exactly how the room looked when we left it,” Roger said.  He grabbed the wand on the curtains and slid them open.  He stared out the window.  “The honeymoon suite has a way better view than our room.  Look at the lights!  You can see the strip from here.” 

“Oh, yes.” Betty stood next to Roger and looked out the window.  “The lights look so pretty.”

“I bet they got a really good deal on the rooms for their wedding guests,” Roger said.  “All we can see is a side of a building and some dusty rooftops.”

“I can’t leave Las Vegas without saying goodbye to my Jackie,” Sylvie said, plopping down on the foot of the bed.  Suddenly, she began to cry and her voice cracked as she spoke.  “Especially when he’s sick.  He needs me.”

Betty walked over to Sylvie and sat down.  Trying to comfort her, she gently patted Sylvie’s back.  “Roger, go get some tissue.”

Roger tore his gaze away from the scene outside the window and gave Betty a dirty look, but didn’t argue.  He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with an unopened roll of toilet paper.  Betty sighed, took it from him, and removed the wax paper wrapper.  “Here you go, dear.”  She handed the roll to Sylvie.

“Thanks,” she sniffled, unraveling a portion of it.

“Sylvie,” Aggie said, after walking around the room and checking the bathroom for anything that might be out of place or look suspicious.  Nothing of importance caught her eye.  “When was the last time you saw Jack today?”

“Oh, I don’t know what time it was.  I wasn’t paying attention.”  Sylvie shrugged while dabbing at the corners of her eyes.  “It was after the wedding and sometime after we talked to the police.  I had walked him to his room because he was so distraught.  My poor baby, he’s really very sensitive, you know?  Always has been.  I did what any mother would do and I tried to talk some sense into him about this wicked girl.  I told him he shouldn’t let a woman hurt him like that.  I mean, how
dare she leave him standing at the altar looking like a fool!  I was mortified!  I told him that she wasn’t worth his time and to forget about her.  He’s better than that!  But did he want my advice?  No!  He didn’t want to hear anything bad about his precious fiancé.  Can you believe it?  He can be such an idiot at times!”

“I see,” Aggie said, getting a better insight on what had led Jack to his excessive drinking.  Not only did Miriam disappear, he had to deal with his thoughtless mother lecturing him. 

“Boys can be so stubborn at times,” Sylvie said.  “So I left.”

Aggie frowned.  “And you haven’t seen or heard from him since?”

“I was giving him some time to think about what I said.  To realize that what I was saying about Miriam was true.  And that he shouldn’t let a woman treat him that way.”  Sylvie shook her head and then sobbed into a large wad of toilet paper.  “Then when I didn’t hear from him, I just assumed he was avoiding me,” she sniffled while wiping her nose.  “I mean, he didn’t even come to my room to apologize.  And it’s not like my Jackie to be so thoughtless.  I’ve been waiting all this time.  I tried calling his room once, about an hour ago, and
he
never answered.”

“When Sylvie left Jack, that must’ve been right before you got here to check on him,” Aggie said to Roger. 

“Give or take an hour,” Roger said.  “He had enough time to down a bottle and a half of Champagne before I got here.  And then he finished the second and opened a third.  After that we came down to meet you in the casino.”

“Yes, that makes sense given the time frame,” Aggie said.  “So we were the last to see him.”

“What does that mean?” Sylvie asked, staring at Aggie with red swollen eyes.  “What are you getting at?  Where’s my son?” 

“No,” Roger said, holding up his index finger while correcting Aggie.  “Security was the last to see him.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Aggie agreed.  “They were.”

“Security?” Sylvie gasped, burying her face in her hands.  “Oh my God, my poor baby!  He’s such a good boy.  What would security want with him?”

“They hauled him away,” Roger explained, “right after he blew chunks all over the casino.”

“What?”  Sylvie sobbed even louder.  “My Jackie was arrested for being sick?  They can’t do that!  What is this world coming to?”

“He’s probably gonna have to pay a huge bill for the mess he made,” Roger said.

“It’s all right,” Betty said, patting Sylvie’s back some more.  “Don’t worry.  I’m sure Jack’s fine.  Security was just helping him.  Maybe they took him to the hospital.  He was probably dehydrated from the Champagne he drank.”

“He could have alcohol poisoning,” Roger commented.  “I wouldn’t be surprised.” 

“My poor son!” Sylvie bawled while dramatically throwing her hands up into the air. 

“He’ll probably need his stomach pumped,” Roger continued.  “And an IV of course…”

“And all because of this horrible woman,” Sylvie cried. “I swear she’s the devil!”

“I’m going to make some inquires and see what I can find out,” Aggie said, interrupting Sylvie’s hysterics.  She talked loudly over Sylvie’s sobbing.  “Betty you stay here with Sylvie in case Jack comes back.  Roger and I will go down to the lobby to see if we can talk with someone in security.”

“What about dinner?” Roger asked, tapping his foot.  “I thought we were going out to eat.  It’s getting late and I’m hungry!  Why should I have to suffer because Jack got himself drunk?  It’s not my fault!” 

“We’ll get a bite to eat afterwards,” Aggie said, clutching his arm and practically dragging him out of the room before anymore insensitive remarks could fly out of his mouth.  She left Betty sitting on the bed trying to calm Sylvie down.  She heard Betty telling her that everything would be okay and then the door closed shut.

***

Harold Smith wiped beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.  The casino seemed awfully hot and stuffy.  It was so stuffy that he was afraid he’d have another panic attack.  Trying to ignore the feeling swelling deep in his gut, he wandered around the tables.  He wondered if he should take his chances by playing another round of poker or if he should hit the Black Jack tables.