She shook her head.
Cheever took in the corpse. Christ! Its Tanner Green. He glared at Dillon again. Arent you two working for
Yes, Dillon said curtly.
But you werent together?
No.
Lieutenant Cheever, the M.E. is here, a newly arrived police officer informed him.
Give him room. No one gets out those doors, do you hear? Cheever said.
A murmur arose from the crowd, but Cheever wasnt disturbed. Give your payouts, close your tables, he commanded the casino employees, then turned to his fellow officers. I want men posted at all the doors. No one leaves here without presenting ID and a valid local address, and not until theyve been questioned. Are we understood?
Another swell of protest emanated from the crowd, but no one moved. Not even the casino employees. Payouts. Now. I want the tables closed up. I want some order here, Cheever announced.
At last things began to happen. The M.E.it was Doug Tarleton, a decent guy and an expert in his field, Dillon thoughtwas sliding his gloved hands over the dead mans face, closing the staring eyes.
Lord! Tarleton said, startled. Its Tanner Green.
Yes, Dillon said simply.
Cheever turned to the redhead. And you are?
Jessy Sparhawk, she said quietly.
Exactly what happened? he asked.
She arched a brow but answered levelly. I was leaving the table. I dont know where this man came from. He fell on me and knocked me onto the table. I was trapped under him until he she pointed at Dillon got me out. And thats all I know.
So you dont know him?
No, she said firmly.
Cheevers officers were good, and the floor had quietly filled with them.
Dillon knew there were men already stationed at the doors, and he knew that the others would soon begin questioning the hundreds of people who had been in the casino. Crime-scene tape was already being stretched around the table.
Cheever suddenly stared at Jessy Sparhawk again. The surveillance cameras will have picked up everything, you know.
I told you exactly what happened, she said, adding, And I had nothing to do with it.
Lieutenant Cheever, Dillon said, taking a step forward, Miss Sparhawk is a victim here, and undoubtedly pretty damn uncomfortable right now.
That man is uncomfortable, Cheever said irritably, pointing to Tanner Green.
No, Dr. Tarleton said. That man isnt feeling a thing. Hes dead. Knife wound to the back, short-hilted, long-bladed weapon, which is why no one noticed itthat, and the fact that they were all staring at the tables.
Youre sure on the weapon? Cheever asked.
Tarleton cleared his throat and looked daggers at the detective. He wasnt fond of Cheever. Oh, yeah. Im sure. Its still sticking out of his back.
Shouldnt there be a blood trail to show where he was stabbed? Cheever asked, frowning.
There might be a few specks somewhere. The knife acted like a cork, Doug explained patiently. When Tanner fell, the knife was knocked aside and the blood began to gush. Thats why Miss Sparhawk is covered in it.
Bring in the crime unitI want fingerprints ASAP, Cheever said huffily. He was embarrassed, Dillon knew, that he hadnt figured out that the knife would have kept the blood from flowing. All right, get everyone cleared out of here, and let the crime unit have the area from the door to the table. He glared at Dillon suspiciously. You, too, Wolf. Let the crime-scene team get in here, and let Tarleton do his job.
Dillon stuck like glue to Jessy Sparhawk, who didnt protest when he led her away. He gave his own name, credentials and address to one of the officers, and watched as Jessy did the same. He noted that her address was in Henderson, a suburb just outside the city, and her occupation was entertainer. She was working at the newly opened Big Easycasino. When a uniformed officer came over to interrogate her, she answered his questions calmly, even though she was still trembling.
No wonder. She was still bathed in the dead mans blood.
Hey! How long are we going to be kept here? a florid man in a plaid jacket shouted angrily.
Until the lieutenant says you can go, one of the officers said.
Jessy Sparhawk looked at her watch and bit her lower lip.
Are you late for work? Wolf asked her.
She shook her head. No, its Timothy. I didnt expect to be away from him this long, she murmured.
Yourson? he asked. She couldnt possibly have a kid over ten, and she didnt look like the kind who would leave a child at home alone while she went out and gambled.
She shook her head. Timothys my grandfather.
I see. Give me a minute.
He strode across the room, to where Lieutenant Cheever was bullying a couple of the players who had been by the door when Green had entered. Excuse me, Lieutenant, he said politely.
Cheever stared at him and controlled his hostility. What?
The woman who was caught under the corpse, Jessy Sparhawk. Shes miserable. Why not have a heart? Dillon asked, as if there had never been the least animosity between them. Let her go home and get cleaned up.
Cheever frowned and pointed at Dillon. I need to talk to you.
At your convenience. But let her go home. I can see that youve started releasing people once youve questioned them.
For a moment Cheever appeared to be almost human. He shook his head in frustration. Im trying to prevent an all-out riot here and not let a murderer slip through my fingers, he said.
From what I understand, Green entered the casino, staggered through the crowd and crashed down dead on top of Ms. Sparhawk, Dillon said. Its probable that he was stabbed outside the casino. Even a bunch of hard-core gamblers would probably notice someone going after someone else with a knife that big.
So you say. He was a bodyguard for Emil Landon, wasnt he? Just like you.
Im not a bodyguard. Landon is convinced that someone is trying to kill him. Im supposed to be finding out who. I just took the case, and I wasnt pals with Tanner Green. I knew him, yes, but that was it.
So where the hell were you, if you werent at the table?
Id been playing at the table, but I had just wandered into the high-stakes area over there, Dillon said, pointing toward the far left.
Oh? Cheever said, his eyes narrowing. His tone and his look clearly asked, What were you doing in the high-stakes area?
I was checking out what players are in Vegas right now, Dillon said. Like I said, I just accepted Emil Landons offer. This morning, in fact. Plus, I was nowhere near the front door. And he was stabbed outside. Id bet ten years that the crime-scene team will find specks of blood somewhere along the way.
Cheever stared at him, knowing he was right.
The girl obviously didnt kill him, Dillon said flatly. And she takes care of her grandfather. You need to let her get home.
Lieutenant? an officer said, approaching Cheever quickly through the crowd. The security tapes are ready.
Cheever started to move.
Lieutenant? Dillon said, calling him back.
All right, take her home. But youI want you in my office tomorrow morning, eight oclock sharp.
All right, take her home. But youI want you in my office tomorrow morning, eight oclock sharp.
Ill be there, Dillon assured him. Emil Landon will want to know everything possible about this.
And he willwhen I have something to share.
Hell want me to see those tapes.
I dont like repeating myself, Wolf, so Ill only say this once. I know you know someone who knows the damn governor, but youll still wait until Ive seen those tapes myself. Tomorrow morning, eight sharp.
Right, Dillon said, turning away. More and more people were being released. Some, Dillon thought, would be heading on to other casinos, irritated that a mans death had ruined their evening. Others were guests at the Sun, and some of them would be heading up to their rooms, shaken by tonights events.
Tanner Green had been no angel. He was known around Vegas. He had a record. And no matter what Cheever did that night, the killer was long gone. Even Cheever himself had to know that. He was just covering his ass, going through the motions.
Cheever suddenly called his name again. Wolf!
Dillon paused and waited.
I mean it. Eight oclock.
Dillon tried not to laugh. Cheever always liked having the last word. It gave him a feeling of control.
Dillon turned again and made his way back around the closed-off gaming tables. Dr. Tarleton was still standing by the body with a member of the forensics unit, looking for trace evidence. Dillon paused for a moment, waiting. Watching.
Feeling the room.
But nothing came to him. He paused for a moment longer, then proceeded to the area where Jessy Sparhawk was waiting. He pulled out his investigators license again, in case the officers on crowd control didnt know him. Ms. Sparhawk has been cleared, he said quietly to the one standing with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the exit.
The man nodded, recognizing Dillon and barely glancing at his ID.
Dillon took Jessys arm and led her out the door. She didnt protest; she readily hurried along at his side.
Once out the doorwhere police cars were as thick now as ants on a hill at the grand entrywayshe let out a sigh of relief. Thanks. Thanks so much. A P.I., huh? Well, Im glad youre friends with that lieutenant.
Not exactly friends, Dillon murmured.
They kept walking until they reached Las Vegas Boulevard, where another crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, everyone staring at the action and speculating.
When his cell phone started to ring, he wasnt surprised. In fact, he was surprised it hadnt done so earlier.
Excuse me, he said to Jessy, then answered the phone. Wolf.
Emil Landons voice came through clearly, and hard with agitation. Ive just heard Tanner Green is dead. Dead. Murdered. Knifed in the back.
Yes, I was in the casino when it happened.
Did you see
No. I didnt even know hed come in.
You should have known, damn you.
Excuse me?
I need to see you. Now.
As soon as possible.
He was a bodyguard on my payroll. And hes dead. I want to see you now.
As soon as possible, Dillon repeated steadily.
I can fire you, Wolf.
Feel free.
Immediately Landon backed down. Just get here as soon as you can. I told you I was in danger.
Dillon closed his phone. Jessy was looking away, courteously pretending she hadnt been privy to his conversation. Im sorry. You must be busy, and I have to get home.
Wheres your car, then? Ill walk you to it.
I didnt drive tonight, she said. She flushed. I had a business appointment, and I thought I might be stopping somewhere on the way home, so I decided not to drive. I, uh, I dont drink and drive.
I didnt see you drinking.
I wasnt, but I might have been. Long story. Anyway, Im sorry, but I really do have to get home now.
Ill take you. My car is just down the Strip.
No, no, really. Im in a hurry, and its easier just to hail a cab. But thank you. Thank you so much.
What the hell could he do? Insist? He didnt have the right.
You could be in danger, he said. What a crock.
She smiled, knowing it was a line.
Thanks. Ill be okay.
He kept his gaze locked on the crystalline blue of her eyes as he reached into his pocket for his card. Please, call me if you need anything.
She smiled without glancing at it. Wolf. Ute? she asked. Local tribe? Distant tribe? Hell, Erie? Cherokee? Apache?
He grinned. Paiute, he informed her, then offered her an awkward grin. All right, soSparhawk? Ute, Apache, Nez Percestage name?
Lakota Sioux, my great-great-grandfather. Im a real all-American mix, she replied, sounding amused. They stared at each other for another moment. Then she awkwardly took a step away. I really have to go. Thank you again. She hesitated. You knew him?
He nodded.
Im sorry.
Im always sorry if a man is dead. But he wasnt a close friend.
Oh.
He frowned. You didnt cash in your chips, did you? No time, I guess. I forgot about them in the mass confusion.
She shook her head. So did I. I have them, though. I can cash them tomorrow.
Those chips represent a lot of money. You could be mugged, he told her.
She laughed. A cabdriver isnt going to know about my chips, she assured him. Im okay, honestly. Im a big girl. I grew up out here. I carry pepper spray. Ill be all right. I promise.
He saw a taxi. He wondered about the grandfather she had mentioned. Was he ill and waiting for her?
Dillon stepped out to the curb and whistled, flagging down the approaching cab. He saw her into it and waved goodbye. There was nothing else to do.
He frowned, watching the cab as it pulled away. There was a strange shadow next to her, almost as if there was a second person in the seat beside her.
His muscles knotted with tension. The cab passed under a streetlight, and he could see that there was only one person in the backseat. She was alone.
So why was he still so uneasy? he wondered as he watched the cab disappear down the street.
2
She should have driven herself, but shed known that she was likely to have a bad time out at the home, and that she might stop to have a few drinks on her way home, try to console herself with a pity party and take a little time figuring out her life.
The cab seemed very slow.
She was tense with anxiety by the time the driver pulled up in front of her home in Henderson, and she nearly fell over her own feet in her hurry to get out and reach the house.
Sandra? She was calling her friends name even as she turned the key in the lock. As the door opened, Sandra heard her and came rushing from the back of the house to meet her at the front door.
She was a pretty woman in her mid-thirties and had once been a showgirl, but now she wrote novels for young adults, having found a way to mine her own youthful angst for profit. She also had a sixteen-year-old daughter, born when she was very young herself, and Reggie gave her an even greater insight into the teenage mind.