11. Jezebel

CHAPTER 11

JEZEBEL

“ A re you in Vegas at the moment?”

“Uh, no?” Why did Ari sound so wary? “How did you get my number? Actually, don’t tell me. Alexa?”

Otherwise known as Echo. “Of course.”

I’d met Arizona Danner a little over three weeks ago, but she’d come onto my radar months before that when she’d begun dating one of my former housemates. She’d also been investigating him for possible fraud, which had led to drama all around, but she’d turned out to be a decent PI. And before she met Zach, she’d lived in Las Vegas, so she knew the city and its inhabitants better than most did.

While the Choir could carry out this investigation ourselves, the other girls were already picking up the slack after my injury. And most of our time was committed to Uncle Sam. We couldn’t maintain full-time surveillance. Plus our intelligence-gathering capabilities leaned toward terrorism, international crime, and matters of national security, not loan-sharking and local hoodlums.

“Why are you calling me?” Ari asked .

“Because I want to hire you.”

“What?”

“You’re a private investigator licenced in Nevada, yes?”

“Yes, but don’t you usually do that stuff yourself?”

“I do when I’m not accessorising with a cast.”

“Oh my gosh, what happened?”

“That’s confidential.”

“Right, I’m sorry. So, uh, what’s the job?”

“An acquaintance of mine has recently come into ownership of the Galaxy Hotel and Casino.”

“Yikes. Offer them my condolences.”

Yes, the Galaxy’s reputation had spread far and wide. “The finances are somewhat rocky, and there are question marks over the debt in the business. Possible loan shark involvement.”

“And you want information on the loan shark?”

“All we have so far is a first name.”

“Which is?”

“Jimmy.”

“There’s a Jimmy who works out of Chinatown, but he’s always been small time. What sort of sums are involved?”

“Two hundred thousand plus in arrears, but we don’t have information on the principal yet. There’s no paperwork.”

“No kidding. Look, I’m flying back next week to do some work for a long-term client, and I can take a look at your case while I’m there. Does that work?”

“Can you come any sooner?”

Her voice took on an edge of suspicion. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

It was a fair question, and I would have been disappointed if she hadn’t picked up on the issue. A simple loan-sharking problem could easily have waited a few more days .

“It’s possible Jimmy escalated out of threat territory.”

“As in, he sent a bunch of heavies over?”

“Four of them.”

“Is your ‘acquaintance’ okay?”

Her emphasis on the word “acquaintance” told me she was reading far more into the situation than was necessary, but I let it slide. Let her assumptions add a sense of urgency.

“He’s blissfully unaware. I assumed the heavies were there for me and took care of the problem.”

“Uh, are they likely to come back?”

“Those particular assholes? No. But I wouldn’t rule out a different bunch of thugs showing up. You’ll need to tread carefully. I just need a positive ID for Jimmy, and we can take care of the rest.”

A long moment ticked by, and I feared Ari would pass on the job. She had a new life in California now. Zach had fallen into the role of stepdad to her daughter, and I heard her grandma had moved to the West Coast too.

But finally, she spoke. “I’ll have to check with Zach and Nana, but I should be able to fly out on Thursday morning.”

The day after tomorrow. “I’ll reserve a room for you at the Galaxy. Alexa can help with research, and if you need any specialist support, we can facilitate that.”

“Specialist support?”

“Use your imagination.”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

“That’s up to you. I’ll send you an email address for the initial invoice, and we’ll pull together the information we have so far.”

“Did you identify any of the four, uh, visitors?”

“One was a local guy, ID’d through fingerprints. Shane Wallins. Used to work for the Sad Hatter.”

“The coke dealer? ”

“Right. And one of the guns was reported stolen in Boise a couple of years ago, so there could be a connection there. Or possibly farther afield. We ran DNA on all four of the shitbirds, and we believe two of them are from out of town. Way out of town. As in, Russia.”

A hesitation. “Russia?”

“Don’t worry; I’m not asking you to go head-to-head with the Bratva. If there’s any confrontation required, I’ll handle that myself. All I want you to do is identify Jimmy and ideally find a location for him. Jimmy isn’t even a Russian name, so the Russians were probably rent-a-thugs.”

“Is there a starting point?”

“Cole mentioned that Jimmy’s first and second appearances were at the Galaxy, so maybe he’ll show up there again. And we’ll install cameras at his house.”

“When you say ‘we’…”

“I’ll do it.”

Come over whenever you want, that’s what Cole had said to me. He hadn’t stipulated whether he needed to be there at the time, and nor had he specified the method of entry. There was no alarm, so it would take me less than a minute to get inside. Another twenty to give us eyes and ears. Tulsa or Dice would keep watch on the street, and we could add some motion sensors in the yard to give us advance warning if a new team showed up.

“What’s the budget?” Ari asked.

“Generous.”

“Enough for me to bring an assistant?”

“I didn’t realise you had an assistant.”

“Her name is Erin.”

“The chatterbox?” Echo had told me about her. “The lunatic who disrupted a World Surf Tour contest on live TV?”

“She’s good at improvising when the need arises. ”

True. She just didn’t understand the concept of discretion.

“Bring her if you want, but keep her on a short leash.”

“Understood. Who should I address the invoice to?”

“You already know my name.”

“You’re covering the cost personally?”

Ari sounded surprised, and I couldn’t blame her. I wasn’t exactly renowned for my philanthropy. The Choir’s good works included eliminating assholes before they could turn into even bigger assholes, thereby saving future potential victims from trips to the morgue or the hospital. Sometimes we rescued hostages too. Or carried out random acts of sabotage. Basically, if a non-standard task was considered damn difficult to impossible, and a successful outcome would benefit the world in general and the United States in particular, there was an above average possibility the job would land in our laps or those of one of our fellow point teams.

We didn’t throw paper towels at earthquake victims or deliver candy to war zones, and we definitely didn’t help out civilians with money troubles. Okay, so Sin had a habit of rescuing sick puppies, but that was as far as it went.

“I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“You’re reading too much into this. I just don’t want him to die.”

Tulsa scoffed at my protest as she rifled through the refrigerator. “Oh, please. You’ve never been concerned about a hookup’s mortality before.”

“A repeat hookup,” Sin added.

“He was there and I was bored, okay? ”

“Bored?” Tulsa burst out laughing. “Sure, honey.”

“Rather than discussing my sex life, maybe the two of you could focus on looking for Jimmy? Do we have any more of these wall outlet cameras?”

“Try in Echo’s lair,” Sin suggested.

When Echo was in town, which was once every three months or so, she mostly hung out in the basement. Her choice. Ever since I’d known her, she’d favoured small dark spaces—she felt safer there, she said. Her room in Blackstone House hadn’t been much more than a closet. She’d been the last to move in, right after she stole Dawson’s laptop—rather than turn her in to the cops when he caught her, he’d taken pity and brought her home. She’d claimed to be sixteen at the time, although that was a lie. Thirteen was closer to the truth, but she’d looked twelve, and the rest of us agreed that fifteen was a good number. She definitely shouldn’t have been sharing a house with a bunch of reprobates and, as it turned out, a murderer.

Blackstone House.

The place had been a blessing and a curse.

I’d been seven months past my eighteenth birthday when I moved in, adrift and grieving. After losing my mom, I hadn’t wanted to hang around in Pennsylvania. What was left for me there? I’d graduated high school by the skin of my teeth, and the idea of spending the remainder of my life waiting tables in the Westside Diner or stacking shelves at the Spend ’n’ Save left me cold. Or cutting hair like my cousin, Pepper. If I hadn’t left town, I might possibly have strangled her.

I was ninety percent sure that it was Pepper who’d nearly gotten me expelled, but because smug was her default operating mode, an element of doubt crept in. She’d been positively delighted when Principal Coltrane had hauled me in for interrogation. I hadn’t cracked. Of course I hadn’t. I’d claimed the two baggies of weed in my locker were for personal use, and rumours of a sales operation were totally unfounded.

Principal Coltrane was vehemently anti-drugs—ironic, seeing as his son was one of my best customers—but that episode had taught me something important: if you lied convincingly enough, you could get away with all kinds of shit. It was a lesson I’d taken to heart.

For a brief moment, I’d considered going into politics because I certainly had the right skill set, but three things stopped me.

Firstly, all politicians were assholes. Secondly, my mom got sick. And thirdly, the Porsche showed up on my doorstep. After I buried my mother, I decided to go find my dad.

Which was how I’d ended up in northern Virginia.

That was where my parents had met, a bonding experience over a stray pit bull and a traffic accident. The car that hit the dog drove off, my mom dragged it out of the road and tried to flag down help, and my dad drove them both to the veterinarian. After that, he started coming into the diner where she worked. His tips got bigger and bigger until eventually, he asked her whether she’d like to have dinner somewhere she didn’t have to serve it.

In the end, three-legged Ogie had stayed with us longer than Dad did. I’d sobbed into the mutt’s fur as the veterinarian helped him to slip away two days after my eighth birthday, and that was the last time I’d cried in front of anyone. Sometimes, I wondered if there was something wrong with me. My mom was such a warm-hearted person, but most people described me as cold, short for “cold-hearted bitch.”

More than once, I’d wondered whether I took after my dad .

I thought it was quite possible, given what I’d learned over the past decade.

My own investigations in Virginia had yielded little, and it didn’t help that my mom’s memories weren’t always accurate. Even after Dad disappeared, she’d never stopped loving him, not completely. For the most part, she’d been sad rather than bitter.

And she’d also been confused.

Jeremy Pope was gone, but the money kept coming. Two thousand bucks every month, plus an extra thousand on my birthday. And as I got older, I didn’t understand it either. If Dad cared enough to pay child support, why didn’t he come to visit? Although my parents’ relationship had been short lived, it was built on a foundation of love, at least from my mom’s point of view.

It was only after I met Echo that I began to get answers.

Some answers.

I still had a hundred questions.

Tulsa rolled her eyes. “Sure, we’ll just find Jimmy. It would help if we had a surname. Do we have any of those chocolate cookies left?”

“Storm ate the last cookie for breakfast, and I’ve hired someone to assist on the ground.”

“Who?”

“Arizona Danner.”

“Hot surfer dude’s girlfriend?”

“The heat level is debatable, but yes.”

“Are you blind?”

“Two years of living with Zach Torres made me immune to his looks.”

He left random socks everywhere, drooled on the couch in his sleep, and nearly always forgot to replace the toilet roll. Good hair wasn’t so attractive when it was blocking the drain .

Tulsa snorted. “You’re telling me you never got tempted?”

“Not even once.”

Seven men and three women had shared Blackstone House. Levi used to hook up with Ruby—so had Dawson a time or two—and nobody touched Echo, which left me with five possibilities for no-strings sex. Brax was the best of them, or at least, he had been until he met his dragon of an ex-wife. Justin was too nice, Gray was a control freak, and Nolan was out of bounds because Echo had a crush on him, even if she’d never admit it. And yes, the crush was still there, lurking in the background. She kept tabs on the rest of our former housemates, and by “kept tabs,” I mean she e-stalked them using methods that varied in legality, but she studiously avoided checking on Nolan.

Sin looked as if she didn’t entirely believe me about Zach, but we had a rule. The members of the Choir could lie freely to everyone else, but we never lied to each other.

“So, when are you planning to install the eyes and ears?” she asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Cole worked during the day, so I’d have easy access. But that still left tonight. If Cole was the target, would the mysterious Jimmy have gotten another team together by now? Presumably after the last one disappeared, he’d want to go for more competent muscle this time, and mercenaries didn’t grow on trees, not in Las Vegas anyway. Hell, even trees barely grew in Las Vegas. I figured the chances of another attack tonight were slim, but slim wasn’t zero.

“So you’re gonna leave Cole uncovered tonight?” Tulsa asked.

“No.”

She and Sin snorted in unison, and I flipped them both the bird.

“Go ride a camel in hell. ”

“Why do you hate camels so much?” Sin asked.

“You know why.” A camel beauty pageant, an arms dealer, and the camelid equivalent of projectile vomiting were involved. “I’m going to pack a bag.”

“Don’t forget to shave your legs,” Tulsa called as I walked out of the kitchen.

The slam of the door echoed through the house behind me.