Innocent in Las Vegas (7 page)

I picked up a teaspoon, fished out one half-melted marshmallow and chewed it thoughtfully. “It was nice meeting you. But I don’t need protection.”

Sophia looked from Stone to me, and said, “You’ll keep working on the case?”

I swallowed the marshmallow, fished out the other one, and ate it happily. Now that I had some warm, chocolate liquid inside me, I was feeling a lot better. Come to think of it, Mr. Beard and Beady Eyes were clearly imbeciles, the way they had let me run off like that. I didn’t have anything to fear from them, really, and I doubted they’d want to tango with me again. Mr. Beard would most likely spend the rest of his life in mortal fear of stilettos, and Beady Eyes would probably spend a week at home with an icepack pressed against his junk. Besides, I’d never go back to the Riverbelle, so I’d never see those two again.

It would be a shame to let Sophia down and give up on my first case. This nice, hot-chocolate-creating woman would be convicted of a murder she didn’t commit and I would be branded a failure. I’d always remember that I’d let down someone who needed my help and I’d probably never get a PI job again.

So I nodded and said, “I’ll keep working.”

“Great!” Sophia smiled. “I knew it was nothing to worry about.”

“Tell me what happened.” Stone’s voice was deep and serious and he swiveled around to face me, his dark eyes boring into mine.

I was about to beg off, but there was something in his eyes that demanded an answer. He was looking at me as though his whole life depended on hearing my story, so I quickly recounted what had happened, finishing off with kicking Beady Eyes, punching and stabbing Mr. Beard, and running out of the casino.

Stone looked at me the whole time, his attention never wavering. When I finished the story, I thought I saw the hint of a smile on his face. “So. You managed to hurt them pretty bad.”

“Well,” I said, reflecting, “I could hear Mr. Beard’s screams all the way up the stairs and I didn’t look back at Beady Eyes, but he didn’t seem to be too happy.”

Stone nodded. “And then you drove straight here?”

“Yes.” I remembered the fear I’d felt and how I’d driven like a maniac. “It felt like someone was following me. But that might’ve just been my adrenaline rush.”

Stone looked at me thoughtfully, and then took out a business card, flipped it over, and wrote something. He passed the card over to me and I read:
Carla Dubois, KravMaga, 586-3325. Stone: 548-2525

I flipped the card over. The other side was Stone’s business card, with his business name and office phone number.

“Call me if you’re in trouble,” he said, “And call Carla to schedule a lesson.”

I tucked the card into my purse and said, “I’m fine, but thanks.”

“I see you’re not wearing stilettos right now.”

Touché. The man might look like he was made of wax and sounded almost like that too, but he wasn’t stupid. I nodded and said, “I’ll call her.”

“Right. The next thing you’ll need is a weapons permit.”

“I’m not carrying a gun.”

Stone looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but all he said was, “Suit yourself.”

“I will.” I didn’t believe in gun violence and I wasn’t about to contribute to it.

Stone stood up and looked at Sophia. “Good seeing you again.”

Then he turned and left.

I heard the door shut behind him and said, “He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

Sophia shook her head. “He does have a soothing presence, though. I’m glad you’re staying on the case.”

I wanted to tell her that I’d been calmed down by the hot chocolate’s presence, not Stone’s, but a few minutes after he left us, I was no longer so sure. I finished my hot chocolate and said goodbye to Sophia.

As I drove away, I felt my uneasiness creeping back and wondered how long Beady Eyes’ and Mr. Beard’s injuries would keep them out of commission. For all I knew, they might be quick healers who would be feeling fine by the following day. And whoever they were working for probably had more beefy men at his disposal.

I made a quick U-turn, drove into a side street and made a full circle around the block before heading back onto the expressway. Despite my fancy driving and the twists and turns I made, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being followed.

After all the troubles of the day, my night-shift at the casino went surprisingly well. It was just the kind of pleasantness I needed – by some miracle the tables I dealt at didn’t have any drunks, super-grouches or uber-unpleasant people.

I went to bed feeling hopeful and woke up the next morning feeling just as optimistic. I called Vanessa Conigliani straight away and when she answered, I introduced myself as a detective investigating the Ethan Becker murder.

“Would it be possible to meet up some time today to discuss the case?” I asked, and there was a slight pause.

“Around what time?”

“Whenever’s convenient for you, Mrs. Conigliani.”

She sighed. “Oh, what the hell. Can you come over in two hours?”

Two hours would be a bit of a rush. I hadn’t had breakfast yet and I’d been looking forward to a relaxing morning. But this woman was the last person on the list Sophia had given me and I really needed to talk to her. “Of course.” I said. “Will you be at the Summerlin house?”

“Yes,” she said. I repeated the address Sophia had given me, just to verify that it was right.

We hung up and I rushed to make my morning coffee and get dressed. I was sure Vanessa Conigliani would be a sweet woman, but just in case, I wore my heavy cocktail ring again and my second-favorite pair of stilettos.

Mrs Conigliani’s house was a modest Californian bungalow on the other side of Vegas. It seemed warm and inviting on the outside, with a cute, desert-scaped garden; when I rang the bell, Vanessa answered within a few seconds.

She was a slim, petite woman in her late fifties and I hoped I would look so fabulous when I reached her age. Her hair was blonde with a few subtle highlights, cut to just below chin-length, and she wore black capri pants and a white silk top.

“This is a gorgeous place,” I said, looking around. The living area was open-space, done in sleek modern tones of white and silver, with lowlying cream leather couches and fancy abstract artwork on the walls.

“Thanks,” she said, “I redid it recently. It used to be done up more retro.”

I nodded. “Retro is in these days, but I love this airy feel.” The wide windows opened to the street and it was obvious she had magnificent taste. Unlike Sophia’s mansion, this place didn’t have that gaudy, opulent vibe, but it was clear that Vanessa had sourced the best things she could find.

“You should do interior design for a living,” I said, and she laughed modestly.

“Maybe someday,” she said, “If I keep feeling this bored.”

I looked at her curiously. Sophia hadn’t told me much about the woman and internet searches hadn’t turned up anything either. “What do you do with your time?” I asked.

Vanessa smiled and sat down, indicating that I should do the same. “I used to own a hairdressing salon. But I sold that two years ago and I’ve been trying to find something else to keep myself busy. Dealing with hairdressing clients got frustrating. I can’t imagine doing the same thing with interior design clients.”

“Yes,” I mused, “I imagine they’d be picky.”

She shook her head. “You have no idea. The women who hire designers are just so… I don’t know. Something. Demanding, unrefined, spoiled.”

We smiled at each other with perfect understanding. I liked this woman.

“So, Mrs. Conigliani– ”

“Please, call me Vee, everyone does.”

“Of course. Well, as I said, I’m here about Ethan Becker’s death. I think it would be easiest if we started with what you said to the police when they talked to you.”

Her eyebrows went up a fraction of an inch. “I thought you were working for the police.”

Right. I’d told her I was a detective, without mentioning that I was a
private
detective. Impersonating an officer was a federal offense, so I quickly said, “No, I’m a private investigator, looking into it.”

“Who hired you?”

“Sophia Becker.”

“Oh. Well. I’ll try to help you, but to be honest, I think she did it. I’ve never really liked her and I think she must’ve gone nuts living with him.”

“I understand he was quite the philanderer.”

Vanessa smiled wryly. “Oh, that’s an understatement. I was such a fool to marry him. I got pregnant with Leo before I could do anything, and then I stuck it out for another ten years. I still can’t believe I stayed for so long.”

“Was the divorce tough?”

She shrugged. “All divorces are tough.”

We sat silently for a while. “It must have been difficult, raising Leo by yourself.”

“It wasn’t easy. I was lucky Ethan didn’t try to swindle me out of money. He paid my fair share in the settlement, and he paid alimony. He was a decent dad, I’ll admit. He didn’t try to worm out of responsibilities, so I think Leo dealt with it ok.”

“I’ve met Leo. He seems like a nice kid, you must be very proud.”

Vanessa smiled. “Yes, he’s sweet.”

“I’m sorry to keep coming back to this, but Mr. Becker’s behavior? How long were you married before you discovered he was being unfaithful?”

Her gaze drifted into the distance. “That was almost fifteen years ago… I really was in love with him, I didn’t care about his money or the casino or anything. Maybe that’s why it was so hard for me to believe he was cheating on me. But now I know he was probably only faithful for a few months. Just the first few months, until he got bored.”

“Who would he… who did you think he was seeing?”

She laughed drily. “Anyone who would sleep with him. He was the easiest man to seduce, he loved the low-hanging fruit and the women who wanted to please him. Didn’t care if it was a stripper or an attorney.”

“Must’ve been tough.”

Her eyes locked on mine. “It was.”

A chill went down my spine. Despite Vanessa’s restraint, I knew she was unburdening her soul to me in her own understated way. I could imagine all the heartbreak she’d been through, and in the fickle crowd she mingled with, she’d obviously had no-one to share her woes with.

I changed the topic quickly. Ethan Becker was dead but I couldn’t help dislike the man intensely.

I said, “When was the last time you saw him?”

“I’ll tell you what I told the police. I saw him a fortnight before his death; we were having a family dinner with Leo. We do that once in a while, maybe once a month, once every two months. I don’t know how his marriage was with Sophia. I didn’t ask him those things. We stuck to neutral topics, the weather, sports, and how Leo was doing.” She paused and thought back to what she’d told the police. “You’ll want to know where I was that night - I was home. I’d gone out for dinner at La Mamba and I left around eleven. I was home the rest of the time. Ethan and I were on relatively good terms, as good terms as you can be ten years after a divorce.”

I nodded. “Do you have any idea who his latest affair might’ve been with?”

She looked at me with an expression of mild surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Sophia thinks he was seeing someone and it might have been serious.”

“Did she have any particular suspicions?”

I shrugged. I didn’t want to lead her on. “Not really. Do you have any idea?”

A moment passed as Vanessa tried to think. Finally, she said, “When we were married he used to visit the Peacock Bar. It’s the strip club where he met Sophia. I’m sure he kept going – maybe a girl there?”

I nodded. That made sense, but I was more inclined to think that he would sleep with a young auditor who he saw at his office every day. So I said, “How about anyone at his work?”

Vanessa frowned. “I know Ethan liked his women, but I’d like to think he kept some things off limits.”

“What makes you think that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about him, really, come to think of it. Even our marriage was a lie.”

She sounded bitter and I hated to bring up the past. But I needed to get information and she obviously needed to get things off her chest. I might as well take advantage of that. “You mean the philandering.”

“Yes, that. Even after all this time…” She bit her lip and then went on. “The man was an enigma to the public, but I thought he loved me. He shared things with me. We really connected on so many levels, but then he…”Her voice trailed off.

“Did you try counseling?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t believe in those things. These days you would call him a sex addict, but I think it was more than that. He needed adoration as much as he wanted sex.”

“It must have been a tough choice to leave him.”

She nodded. “I can imagine why Sophia would kill him. You can’t stay because he drives you nuts, and you can’t leave, because you’re giving up that whole lifestyle.”

“But you left.”

“It was a tough choice. All his friends shunned me and his family stopped talking to me. I had to start from scratch. There were times when I was bitter, but I moved to Summerlin, and made new friends. I guess it all worked out in the end. And I have Leo, too. I guess I should be thankful.”

I understood the loneliness emanating from the woman. Giving up your whole social circle must be tough. But that was good for me because she was the first person, other than Leo, who was actually telling me things I needed to know.

“So you think Sophia did it?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I guess. She gets his money
and
she doesn’t have to live with him? Sounds like a win-win to me.”

“Except she didn’t win.”

She nodded. “Yeah. The gun. But that was a fluke. I think without that she might’ve gotten away with it.”

I bit my lip thoughtfully. “You don’t think she’d be sad to see him dead?”

Vanessa laughed drily. “Does she look sad to you? I know, she hired you and all that, but the woman…” She shook her head. “I don’t want to bad-mouth your client, but you gotta admit she’s a stripper who married a rich man for his money. I don’t think for a minute that she loved him, or that she cares about his death. She’s probably happier now.”

I frowned. I liked the fact that she was talking to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree with her. Something about Sophia made me think she was innocent. Or perhaps it was just my naïve hopefulness.

“What about Thelma Durant?”

Vanessa twisted her lips. “She was reasonably friendly when I was married to Ethan, but after the divorce either Ethan poisoned her against me, or she never really liked me to begin with.” Her voice trailed off, slightly sad. “Anyway, she seems nice enough. But who knows.”

I nodded and stood up. I couldn’t think of anything else to ask her, so I handed her my card. “Please call me if you think of anything else.”

“Of course.”

She walked me to the door and I noticed her watching me curiously as I got into my car. I waved and drove away. Despite her willingness to talk, I hadn’t learned much from Vanessa, but at least she had given me the idea to go check out the Peacock Bar.

Nothing had turned up so far, and maybe the strip club was worth a shot.