Deadly Disco in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 6) (9 page)

It was early morning by the time Ian and I left the station. We gave statements, waited around, filled out forms, and then finally, we got back home.

“I’m never eating protein bars ever again,” Ian said as he opened the door to his apartment. “Never. Ever. Again.”

“Your getting sick might have saved our lives,” I reminded him. “It was a good way to distract Crazy Chloe.”

“Meh,” said Ian. “We could’ve distracted her some other way. I didn’t want to worry you in the car, but I really felt like I was dying. I had horrible cramps. That’s probably what getting a period feels like.”

I laughed. “Getting a period is worse,” I told him. “So much worse. At least you could throw up and get it over with.”

“I’m not sure,” said Ian. “I felt really bad.”

“Well, get some sleep,” I said, not really in the mood to discuss periods with Ian. We hadn’t slept all night, and I knew we still had some work ahead of us.

When I got back to my apartment, I checked the cell phone Stone had given me. No calls or messages.

Nine hours later, Ian and I had eaten lunch (reheated pizza pockets) and were sitting in Mary’s living room, telling her everything we’d found out. Mary was sitting on one of the leather couches, wearing skinny jeans and a white knit top. Taylor sat in an armchair opposite us, slouched down low and sulking. He wore a gray t-shirt and shorts, and his hair looked as messy as ever.

Mary turned to Taylor once Ian and I were finished talking. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” she asked him, sounding more exasperated than relieved. “I needed to know!”

“I didn’t want to get the cops involved,” said Taylor. He shot me a moody glance. “You said you wouldn’t tell!”

“I almost got killed,” I reminded him. “And poor Ian had to throw up in that woman’s bathroom.”

“I saved our lives,” Ian said. “But it wasn’t fun getting sick. Tiffany tells me that’s what getting a— ”

I interrupted Ian quickly, before he could start talking about cramps. “I know I promised you,” I told Taylor. “But my first loyalty is to your mom. And don’t you feel better now, knowing that Mary knows the truth?”

Taylor bit his lips and shrugged. “I guess so,” he mumbled.

Mary said, “Taylor, this is really serious business. I know you don’t like cops, but they have to do their jobs. And don’t you owe it to your dad, to find his killer?”

Taylor nodded, and sniffed. “I felt terrible. I thought I couldn’t do anything right.”

“You just have to be more confident,” Mary told him. “We love you. And we’re all here to protect you.”

Taylor nodded. “I’ve already decided to tell the cops what I saw.”

“That’s my boy!” Mary went over and gave him a hug. “I always knew you’d do the right thing.”

“And I’m sorry about all the—past stuff,” Taylor said, shifting awkwardly. “Dad was right. He told me the day he died that I needed to prove myself first. And I’m going to do that.”

“Do what?” Mary said. She looked at him seriously, her face flooded with concern again.

“I’m going to enroll in college,” Taylor said. “I’m going to study business, and I’ll get a good GPA and make good friends. Dad said he did so well in business because he had a good business partner, and he’d learned stuff at school. If I’m going to be like him, I need to do what he did.”

Mary hugged him again. “I’m so proud of you!” she said. “I’m sure you’ll get into a fabulous school.”

I smiled, happy to see the two work things out. “We should get going,” I told her. “I have a shift in a couple of hours, and Ian wants to write up the report for this case.”

“I’ll give you the rest of the fee I owe you,” Mary said, handing us a check. “I’m glad you could find out what happened.”

“Josh was lucky to have you two as his family,” I said softly. I looked at Taylor and said, “I’m sure you’ll make him proud.”

There were still no messages on my secret cell phone when I got home. I knew Stone would contact me someday, but in the meantime, I needed to stay busy.

So when Ian knocked on the door a few minutes later, asking if I wanted to bake cupcakes, I said, “Sure! I’ll come over.”

We headed to his apartment, where Snowflake was taking a nap. She opened one eye when she saw me, meowed softly, and went back to sleep.

Ian found the eggs and milk, and we found a nice-looking recipe and began mixing the ingredients together.

“It’s good that Taylor decided to ’fess up to what he saw,” Ian said. “It’ll be easier to convict Chloe.”

I nodded. “I guess he was just scared. He’s a young kid, and so far, he hasn’t had good experiences with the law.”

“He’ll grow up,” said Ian. “College will be good for him. I guess he was just scared of the future.”

“Isn’t everyone?” I thought about Detective Elwood, who didn’t want to know whether his wife was having an affair or not. I wasn’t any better: I was starting to dread the future at the Treasury Casino. How would weight restrictions go? Would they introduce new uniforms?

“What’re you thinking about?” Ian said. “Are you thinking that we’ll be partners in the future? I really helped you out on this case.”

I half-snorted, half-smiled. “By getting violently sick.”

“Yeah.” Ian nodded. “Nothing too difficult.”

I shook my head, still smiling. “I was just thinking that if I’m going to meet weight requirements, I’ll need to give up on cupcakes.”

Ian looked at me seriously. “For good?”

“At least for a few weeks. That’s the only way I’ll lose weight.” It was difficult to commit to the idea. Cupcakes were my favorite food group.

“I quit protein bars,” said Ian. “I’m sure you can quit cupcakes.”

I thought back to the cell phone lying hidden in my bathroom cabinet. “I’m not sure,” I said. “My life’s really stressful these days.”

“Then what about a new job?” Ian said. “Would you work at one of the Fremont Street casinos?”

I shook my head no. “I don’t think so. The pay’s worse, and I’m not sure that management’ll be any better. I guess I’ll just have to give up cupcakes for a while.”

Ian and I looked at each other uncertainly.

“Maybe,” I said slowly, “if giving up cupcakes is the hardest thing I’ve got to do in the next few weeks, I’ll be okay.”

“Maybe,” agreed Ian.

But we both knew that even if I quit eating cupcakes, I might not lose enough weight to keep my job at the Treasury.

“Maybe you’ll lose tons of weight,” said Ian, trying to be encouraging. “Or maybe you’ll land a big PI client, and you’ll be able to quit your job. You could solve a murder or two, and give up being a dealer for good.”

I laughed. “I think I’ve had enough of homicide cases for a while. Psychopaths threatening to kill me is getting a little old.”

“Yeah, well,” said Ian. “I suppose we can worry about the future when it gets here.”

I nodded. “And with any luck, we won’t meet any more psychopaths.”

Of course, life never quite worked out that way for me.

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