Vanity, Vengeance And A Weekend In Vegas (A Sophie Katz Novel) by Kyra Davis

on my lip.
    “I didn’t think so. Again, I hope
you enjoy your stay.” He got up and opened the door for me.
    There was really nothing more to
say so I walked out, past Anne, who offered me a cursory goodbye, and out into
the casino.
    I stopped somewhere around the
blackjack tables to catch my breath. There was a chance that I had just been
talking to a murderer.

 
    The hour that I had told my friends
that I would be using for a nap was just about up. I found my way to the edge
of the casino and called Dena.
    “So you’re finally awake?” Dena
asked upon picking up. But I could hear the accusation in her voice.
    “I um, wasn’t actually sleeping.”
    “No shit.”
    I covered one of my ears to
better block out the sounds coming from the slots. “I didn’t want to lie but I
had to do this alone,” I continued.
    “Do what alone?””
    “I came back to The Hotel Noir.” A
woman a few feet away lit up a cigarette and the smell of self-destruction
overtook me. “I wanted to find the guy I paid the $250 to.”
    “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
    “I found him,” I said quickly.
      “Is he a guest in the hotel?”
    “Umm…no. He’s the GM of the
hotel.”
    Another pause. “The GM,” she said
flatly.
    “Yep.”
    “Yeah, I’m not a hotelier or
anything but if the GM there is willing to sell out for $250 The Hotel Noir
might need to put together a more competitive compensation package for its
management.”
    “I don’t think he did it for the
money. Actually I can’t really figure out why he did it. I asked him…” my voice
trailed off as I spotted a woman watching me from halfway across the room. But
she wasn’t just a woman, she was the woman. She was standing next to the craps table. This time her
dress was purple and black (I recognized it from the Versace ad campaign) and
her pink stiletto heels had been replaced by black stiletto boots.
    “Dena, I gotta go.”
    “What do you mean, you gotta go ?
Are you still at the Hotel Noir?”
    “I’ll call you back in a bit,” I
said. “Promise.”
    “Sophie!” But I hung up.
    The stiletto woman started
walking toward me at the same moment I started walking toward her. There was a
determination in her step that made everyone around her make way. I had been in
a daze last night. I hadn’t been able to see through the little sex-kitten act
she was putting on but now that act seemed paper-thin. It couldn’t conceal the
tough and almost frightening force that lay behind it. This was not a woman to be
messed with.
    We both stopped when there was no
more than three feet between us. At the roulette table next to us someone
shrieked for joy as another groaned.
    Simultaneously we asked the same
question: “Where is he?”
    She hesitated a moment and then
glanced around the room nervously. “Let’s take a walk,” she suggested.
    “Why can’t we talk here?”
    “People might be listening,” she
explained as she led me toward the exit. “It’s not a normal hotel.”
    “Not normal by Vegas standards?”
    “Not normal by any standards.”
    “So what are you saying? It’s the
Hotel California?”
    “Yes,” she said dryly. “The Hotel
California in Nevada.” She pushed open the glass doors leading to the strip.
“But the big difference is that you can get out.”
      I followed her into the sunshine and dug into my bag for some
sunglasses. “Well we’re both outside so I guess that means you can get out
too.”
    “No, not really,” she said
quietly. “Not in any way that matters.”
    I didn’t understand what that
meant so I let it pass for the moment. I watched her open up her handbag but
instead of taking out sunglasses she took out a package of cigarettes. “Want
one?”
    “I don’t smoke. I’m not a big fan
of secondhand smoke either.”
    “Oh?” She asked, blithely
lighting up a cigarette. “So you decided to ignore my advice? You’re not
leaving Vegas?”
    “It sounded more like a warning
than advice, but yes, I’m