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Authors: C D Ledbetter

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BOOK: Jingle of Coins
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Meg stretched her willowy arms behind her neck, then flung them above her head. “I’m from Sacramento,” she announced. “Lived there until I turned twenty-one, and the day after my birthday I headed for Vegas to be a showgirl.” She flashed Emily a triumphant smile. “I’m in the new review at the Golddigger’s Roundup. If you would like to see it, I can get you a free pass.” She cast a quick glance at Emily’s left hand. “Are you still married?”

Emily nearly choked on her wine. “I’m divorced.”
“Oh. Does your ex-hubby live here?”
“No, thank goodness. I won’t even live in the same state as that rat bastard.”
Meg snickered. “Let me guess—you caught him cheating!”
“Yeah, but it’s not something I care to talk about, so I’d appreciate it if we could change the subject.”

“Good idea,” Kate agreed, glaring at Meg. “Sorry to subject you to fifty questions, Emily, but we were curious.” She flashed Emily another smile.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Kate refilled their glasses. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do? There’s tons of new businesses opening in Vegas. You couldn’t have picked a better time to launch a new career.”

Emily set her wineglass on the table. “Actually, I’m thinking about trying my hand at the slots.”

Meg and Kate groaned in unison. “Honey, you’re smart enough to realize that slots are for suckers, right?” Kate asked in disbelief.

Emily laughed. “I know, but I’ve had a really weird streak of luck, so I figured I’d keep it up until I started losing, then quit. You know, kinda get it out of my system. Right now, it’s a game, and I’m ahead on points and on cash. Once I start losing, it’ll be time to quit and find a job.”

Kate raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Well, that’s one view I haven’t heard in a while. As long as you can give it up once you start losing, you should be all right.”

Emily nodded. “I figure my luck will probably change in the next few days, so I’m going to make as much money as I can while it lasts.”

“You go, girl,” Meg chimed in. She polished off her second glass of wine and then stood as a clock chimed. “Ugh, time for me to go,” she complained. “I’ll be glad when we get this new show over with. These long hours are killing my feet.” She waved to Emily as she walked to the door. “Nice to meet you, Emily. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.”

Emily raised a hand in farewell. “Thanks. Have a good night.”
Kate refilled Emily’s glass, then set the bottle on the table.
“Did you decorate the apartment yourself?” Emily asked as she sipped her wine.
“No. I hired an interior decorator. I just told him what I liked, and he did the rest.”

“Well, he certainly did a good job.” Emily studied Kate’s elegant pose for a moment, then made a pretense of adjusting the couch pillow. “What do you do, Kate?”

There was a tiny pause, so brief that Emily almost missed it. Then Kate shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, this and that. I dabble in the stock market and have a small import/export business. Nothing too interesting.”

“I see.” Taking the subtle hint, Emily tried a different tact. “Have you lived here long?”

Before Kate could reply, the phone rang. After picking up the portable phone, she excused herself and disappeared into the bedroom.

Emily amused herself by looking at the sculptures scattered throughout the living room, and jumped when she heard a sharp rap at the door. When the knock sounded again, she peered through the peephole. A large, well-dressed man waited outside.

“Just a minute.” She moved toward the bedroom and knocked twice.

“Come in.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Emily said, “but there’s a man standing outside your front door. He’s tall, well dressed, and has black hair. Should I let him in?” Her gaze remained on Kate, but from the corners of her eyes, she noted that the bedroom was done in the same decorating style as the living room. A four-poster bed, draped in sheer fabric, filled the room. Instead of finely carved wood, the bed sported Greek columns at each end. A sudden movement brought her attention back to Kate.

Kate strolled to the window and lifted the drape. “Go ahead and let him in. Thanks.” She turned her back to Emily and continued her conversation.

Emily opened the door and gazed at the visitor. “Can I help you?”
“Where’s Kate?” he demanded in a low voice.
“She’s on the phone.” Emily stepped aside, but he surprised her by shouldering his way into the living room.
Unsure of what to do next, Emily opted for introducing herself. “Emily Sane,” she said, extending a hand.
There was an awkward silence, and then the man grudgingly extended his. “Stu.”

The first thing Emily noticed, other than the fact that the skin on the back of the man’s hand was unusually smooth, was that his nails were expertly manicured. As he gripped her fingers in a handshake, she noticed the cufflink at the side of his wrist. The initials SB were inlaid with sapphires and diamonds. She took in the cut of his suit and guessed that it was Armani. Evidently not only did Kate dress elegantly, so did her guests.

Kate entered the living room and faltered as she glimpsed her other guest. Emily noted the slight hesitation. Obviously, Kate thought her guest would be someone other than Stu. She watched quietly as Kate’s smile disappeared for a moment, then reappeared.

“Hello, Stu,” Kate said after a moment. “What can I do for you?”
Stu’s glance slid to Emily, then back to Kate. “Mike wants you to join him for drinks.”
Even though the man spoke politely, Emily got the impression that his request was actually an order.

Kate sighed, then turned to Emily. She was still smiling, but Emily guessed the smile was a fake, solely for her benefit. In a flash of intuition, she realized that Kate wasn’t as composed as her facial expression implied. There was a definite undercurrent of tension between Kate and this Stu person, but Emily wasn’t sure what she could, or ought to do about it. She moved toward the door. “Listen, thanks for the wine. I need to get back to unpacking. I’ll catch you later.”

“Sorry, it’s business,” Kate apologized, her glance darting back to Stu.

“No problem. Thanks for the wine.”

Emily’s heart thumped as she covered the few steps to her apartment. Although she detested eavesdropping, she felt compelled to listen at the bedroom wall closest to Kate’s living room on the off chance that she might have to call the police. Unfortunately, the music from Kate’s stereo drowned out any conversation. Moments later the music switched off and a door slammed.

When no further noise ensued, Emily left the safety of her bedroom and went into the kitchen. Grabbing the teapot from the counter, she filled it with water and set it on the stove. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The kettle whistled, and she jerked it off the stove, burning her hand as she forced the lid open to quiet the sound. The knocks continued as she waited.

After a few moments, Emily re-evaluated answering the door, but decided that if it was Kate, she did not need to get involved in any problem Kate might have. It was a coward’s way out, but her initial impression of Stu was that he would not appreciate her butting into his and Kate’s business. She hated to be that way, but right now, she needed to lead as stress-free a life as possible if she wanted her headaches to subside. Getting in the middle of Kate and Stu’s problems would only cause more problems.

A few moments later, the rapping ceased, and footsteps faded. Letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, Emily sagged against the counter. Her hands shook as she stuffed a tea bag into her coffee cup and sloshed water over it.

She thought about Kate’s scarcely concealed dismay and wondered what kind of problem Kate was having. Obviously it was something bad; the undercurrent of tension between Kate and Stu was evident, even to a stranger. She debated broaching the subject to Kate and decided to keep her mouth shut. Kate’s affairs were none of her business. God knows she had enough problems of her own right now. If Kate asked for help, then she’d do what she could. Best to leave matters alone for now. That way, whatever problem Kate had wouldn’t come and visit her house.

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

 

The moment a hand touched her shoulder, Emily let out a gasp and, sinking beneath the surface, choked on the pool’s heavily chlorinated water. The same hands that startled her out of her exercise lap grabbed her upper arm and hauled her back to the surface.

“Sorry,” Glen apologized, helping her stay afloat.
“What were you trying to do, drown me?”
“I thought you saw me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She removed her elbow from his grasp. “Well, you did.”

“Okay, I promise not to try and drown you next time, and I’m sorry about forcing you to take a drink,” he lamented. His grin deepened and a dimple flashed in and out of his cheek. “At least there aren’t any kids in the pool, so the water’s probably safe to ingest.”

“That’s disgusting.” She treaded water as she spoke, then grabbed the edge of the pool. “So, was there any particular reason you stopped me? Or do you always get in the path of people trying to swim laps?”

“I thought I might swim a couple laps with you. You mind? It’s easier to pace yourself that way. Keeps your speed up.”

She stared at him for a few moments. “Sure.”

He matched her lap for lap, and when they completed ten, Emily called it quits. “I’ve had enough exercise for one morning,” she announced when she reached the shallow end. “Ten is my limit.” She glanced at the empty chaise lounges and tables. “It sure is quiet this time of the day. It’s as if we’re the only ones up.”

“We probably are. A lot of people work nights and don’t get up until eleven or twelve. I’m on days, so I try to jog or swim before I go in.” He kept silent for a few moments, then cleared his throat. “Have you met any of the other tenants?”

“Yeah. I met some last night.”

“Good. Most of the folks in here are…nice.”

She noted the slight change in tone, as if he was being careful to choose his words. “What are you trying to tell me?” she asked, suddenly wary. She waited for him to respond, and when he didn’t, a pregnant silence grew between them. “Well?” she demanded. “If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise I’m leaving.”

“There is one thing I ought to caution you about.” He glanced around the pool, then lowered his voice. “I saw you come out of Kate’s apartment last night.”

“So? What were you doing—spying on me? Get a life,” she stated bluntly, moving toward the ladder.

Glen grabbed her arm and tugged her back. “I wasn’t spying on you,” he lied. “I’ve known Kate for several years. I only wanted to ask if you knew what she did for a living.”

“I don’t care what she does. It’s none of my business.”
Glen held up one hand. “Humor me, please. What did Kate say she did?”
“Don’t you have anything better to do than gossip?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Well?”

This guy was unbelievable! “Geez. If you must know, she told me she owns a small business and trades stocks and bonds. Satisfied?”

His dimple flashed in and out as his lips curved into a crooked smile. “Close, but no banana. It’s more like she does the stockbrokers, not the bonds. Kate’s an ultra-exclusive call girl. In fact, she’s the most expensive call girl in Vegas. I’ve seen her in action at the casinos.”

“I find that hard to believe. She doesn’t look or act like a hooker. She has excellent taste in her clothes and her apartment.”

“I’m not lying. She really is an exclusive prostitute. I figured she’d hedge about telling you what she really does for a living. Kate’s not your typical call girl. That’s why she’s so exclusive. She tends to be closed mouthed, especially around strangers. I don’t even think the apartment manager knows. I just thought you ought to know, since you live next door.”

Emily rubbed her chin to cover her surprise. “Wait a minute.” She glanced up sharply, remembering Kate’s visitor. “She wouldn’t entertain clients here, would she?”

“No. Call girls as exclusive as Kate keep a separate apartment to entertain clients and do everything they can to make sure their private lives stay private.”

Emily walked over to the chaise lounge where she’d stashed her towel. She wrapped it around her waist, then stuck her feet into flimsy sandals. “Thanks. I appreciate the heads up.”

Glen matched her step for step. “I normally wouldn’t say anything, but I figured you ought to know, in case somebody comes to your apartment by mistake.”

Remembering the absence of sex in her life and her recent desire to remedy that deficit, Emily smiled. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if one of Kate’s clients did come to her door. Especially if he was good looking—and rich.

“What’s so funny?” Glen asked, puzzled by her grin.

“Nothing,” she said, still grinning. “You wouldn’t understand, even if I tried to explain.” She struggled to curb her laughter, but couldn’t. “I appreciate the info. Thanks.”

Glen watched Emily saunter back to her apartment. She certainly hadn’t reacted to his news the way he’d anticipated. And, she’d covered her surprise better than he thought she would, which validated his original assumption that not only was she smart, she could also think on her feet. As he turned toward his own apartment, he tried to figure out what she’d found funny, but failed.

The living room clock chimed as he opened his door. Damn it, he’d spent more time than anticipated at the pool; he’d have to hurry if he was going to meet Pete Goldman in the parking lot and still make it to work on time.

Pete was waiting in a truck parked at the curb. Glen walked around to the passenger side and got in. “Nice cover,” he observed, noting the photo identification badge clipped to Pete’s left shoulder. City worker’s coveralls and a hardhat completed the disguise, and a clipboard littered with pieces of paper that looked like official work orders rested on the seat between them.

“Everything set? You know what she looks like?”

Pete nodded. “Short hair, slender build, lives in apartment number 118. Drives the white Jeep over on the right.”

BOOK: Jingle of Coins
7.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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