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

ignoring it.”
    Stiletto lady shrugged. I was
having a hard time keeping up with her without getting winded which was humbling
since I wasn’t wearing killer heels or sucking in carcinogens.
      “Warning you to get out of Vegas was supposed to be my good
deed of the week but you’ve completely messed that up.” She took another long
drag from her cigarette. “You’re probably going to ignore this advice too but
if you are going
to stay in Vegas you should at least stay away from The Hotel Noir.”
    “Oh for God’s sake, if there’s
something you want to tell me about the hotel then tell me! I don’t have time
to decipher codes.”
    She blew out a long stream of
smoke as a family of four hurried past us on the sidewalk. “It’s owned by a
very powerful family.”
    The alarm bells that went off in
my head were so loud it was surprising other people couldn’t hear them. “Are we
talking about the Russian mafia?”
    Ms. Stiletto smiled “I don’t
really believe in labels.”
    “Riiight, well I guess a turd by
any other name smells just a shitty.” I tried to take a deep breath but that
ended with a cough.   “The woman who
was with Anatoly last night—”
    “Tanya Davi,” she supplied, “my
cousin.”
    I was overtaken by an unwelcome
wave of sympathy. “I’m sorry.”
    “Me too. No one should have to
put up with a family member like Tanya. She’s awful.”
    “You’re…you’re using the present
tense.”
    “Why wouldn’t I?” She glanced
back toward the direction of the hotel and then grabbed my arm and abruptly
pulled me onto a side street. The pedestrian traffic immediately became more
manageable.   A pudgy middle-aged
man at a bus stop flashed us a crooked toothed grin as we passed.  
      “What happened to Tanya?” I asked carefully.
    “She handed in her resignation
this morning and now she’s gone. But to be fair, she’s been dead to me for
quite some time now.”
    I gave her a sideways glance but
she kept her focus straight ahead.
    “That’s not what happened,” I
said firmly.
    She shrugged. “Winners write the
history books.” She shot me a quick meaningful look. “Tanya isn’t the winner
here. There is no other story to be told.”
    I came to an abrupt stop.
Stiletto lady followed my example and pivoted to face me.
    “Who the hell are you and why
can’t you talk like a normal human being! Not everything needs to be a fucking
riddle, metaphor or analogy! What. Is. Wrong with you ?”
    She glanced around the area as if
there might be spies around every corner. “I’m a friend of Anatoly’s,” she said
carefully. She then brought her eyes to me. I recognized her expression; after
all I’d seen it in the mirror enough times. It was determination mingled with a
healthy dose of fear.   “I can help
him. I saved his life last night—”
    “Wait, you saved his life? What the hell
happened?”
    “—and if you know where he
is you’ve got to tell me because I swear I can save him again. I might be the
only one who can.”
    “You won’t even give me your
name! Why should I trust you enough to tell you anything?”
    “I guess I’m just hoping you have
good instincts about people,” she said with a sad smile. “I’m not asking you to
just give me his location, not if you’re not comfortable with that. You can
take me there and be there right by my side and if Anatoly thinks I’m some kind
of threat to him he can shoot me on the spot….but he’s not going to think
that.”
    “Because you saved his life
yesterday.”
    “Exactly.” The wind picked up her
red hair and it flew almost gracefully behind her shoulders, like a Chinese
flag without the yellow stars.   I
didn’t trust this woman and I didn’t like her…but none of that really mattered
because I didn’t have any information to give her even if I wanted to.
    “I don’t know where he is.”
    She studied me for a moment and then
took a very long drag off her cigarette. “Well shit,” she whispered.