Divas Las Vegas (21 page)

AFTER WE LEFT AHMED AND EARL, WE CAME UP WITH A
plan of action. We were tired of sitting back and letting bad
shit happen to us. It was time to do some shitting of our
own. (Sorry for that one.) True, we could have or should
have let the police handle it. That would've been the smart
thing to do. But we also could have been killed while we
were waiting. That would've sucked, obviously. And isn't it
better to go out in a blaze of glory than let the flame eat you
up alive? Okay, maybe I'm being a little overdramatic here.
Point is, we were bored and scared and we knew we had to
do something.

Basically, we had to get a handle on the whole mess;
and we only had one real clue to go on. Once the shock
of Justin's almost-kidnapping semi-wore off and our brains
were back to working at their sick and twisted maximum
capacity, we figured out who the blond with the bad disposition was. I know, it's, like, a total duh, right? Remember the
blond bartender with a little napkin and our whereabouts
written on it? Fine, so it took us a while to figure it out. But you try using deductive reasoning with a gun pointed to
your back and then let's see what happens. Now the question was why.

"Well, we only have one resource now if we're going to
find out anything from that guy," Justin proclaimed.

"Which is?" I wondered.

"My powers of sexual persuasion," he replied, very
matter of factly.

"Oh, really? And what if your powers are useless on
him? He looked straight to me," I said.

"Trust me. A boy knows. It wasn't just a gun he had
pointed at my back, you know."

"Okay, fine. Not like we have any better alternatives."

"Way to go with the positive thinking, Em."

"Shut up and let's go strut your stuff. Oh, and besides,
what makes you think you're his type, anyway? Maybe I'm
the one who should be using his powers of sexual persuasion."

"Em, honey, I said positive thinking, not delusional
thinking."

"Fucking dick."

"Exactly, now let's go."

We arrived back at the Aladdin nervous as hell, but equally
determined. Again the disco was dead, due to the early hour;
to our great relief, Zahir was not at his station. We did,
however, spot the blond bastard at the same bar as before.
He did a slight double take when he saw us enter, scrunched
his face up a bit, and then was all smiles as before. That was
enough to let us know that we had found the right man,
though we played ignorant when we went up to speak with
him. (Though really, there was nothing to play. We were
ignorant.)

"Hi, remember us?" Justin asked.

"Oh, sure. How's it going? Um, I'm sorry, but Ahmed hasn't been back. Guess he's gone," Blondie said.

"No, he's not gone. We found him," Justin said.

Boom!

"You did?! Where is he?!" He practically jumped over
the bar, but then quickly regained his composure. Subtlety
was not this guy's strong point. But we still didn't let on that
we knew he was the culprit.

"Um, Em, don't you have to go meet your friend at the
bar?" Justin turned to me to say, and gave me a beat it look
with his eyes.

"Oh, er, sure, yep, my friend, right," I said, playing
along. "Okay, bye, then. See you, um, later."

Not the smoothest, but I doubted our bartender knew
we were on to him. He was, apparently, a natural blond.
And then I left them alone, which was fine by me. The close
proximity to our nemesis was making me quite uncomfortable. How fortunate for me that we were in a casino.
Nothing more relaxing that sitting with a Malibu rum and
a wad of cash at a lucky slot machine.

I say lucky because that's just what it was. Damn lucky.
I sat down, a waitress materialized immediately to take my
order, which never happens, and I slid my twenty-dollar bill
in. I placed the maximum bet, pulled the arm, and up came
genie... genie... genie. This was obviously a slot machine
made specifically for the Aladdin, as I had never seen genies
replacing the stereotypical joker or clown before.

I also had no idea what I had won, because no winnings
slip was sliding down for my eagerly awaiting hands. How
strange, I thought. But the light above the machine was lit,
which indicated that a floor worker was being called over
to give me something. Of course, had I just bothered to
read the payout grid above the spinning wheels, I would've
figured out what I had won, but I was too excited to bother
with all that. Well, sure enough, some five minutes later a
female genie appeared and handed me a receipt.

"What's this for?" I asked. Usually they pay out your
winnings in cash right then and there if it's a really big
win.

"You got three genies, sir," she said.

"Yes-and?"

"And three genies gets you a week's free stay at the
Aladdin. See, it says so right here," she explained, pointing
to the large letters on top of the machine that said just
that.

"Oh, yes, I see," I said, nonchalantly. "Thanks."

I tipped her a few dollars and she was gone. I sat there
grinning, playing it cool, so that the several grannies sitting
around me wouldn't think I was a first-timer or anythingbut inside I was ecstatic, brimming over with joy and
delight. I was singing that golden ticket song from Willie
Wonka in my head and thinking how I almost never, ever
win anything big. And this was big. Huge, even. A week at
the Aladdin had to cost nearly a thousand dollars. Our luck
seemed to finally be changing. Or so I thought.

"What's with the big grin?" Justin asked, appearing to
my right.

"Oh, hey, how did it go?" I asked.

"Not so well. The man's straight as an arrow and just
as pointy-headed. I doubt he even knew I was flirting with
him."

"So you got nothing from him? No indication as to
why he's after us, our money, or Ahmed? No hint that he
murdered three people?"

"No, no, no, and no. He acted like nothing was up. The
entire meeting was nothing more than aggravating. And,
while I was there, he made derogatory references to three
women who passed by. Not only is he most likely a murderer
and a thief, but he's also a sexist and a pig. Which gave me
an idea."

"Oh, joy, another idea."

"Hey, if you want to wait around for the ax to drop on
your head, that's fine by me. I'm just trying to be a little
proactive here."

"Okay, fine, sorry. What's your idea?"

"I'll tell you, but first tell me what was with that silly-ass
grin."

"Oh, right, look," I said, and handed him the receipt.

"Hey, perfect timing. It says we can use this anytime,
and we're gonna need a room for her. How very fortuitous,"
he said.

"Um, who's her?" I asked.

"Her is our secret weapon," he answered.

"And just who is this secret weapon, pray tell?"

"Why, Em, the secret is Glenda."

"And since when is Glenda a secret?"

"Since she's going to find out why that bartender is after
us, our money, our lives, etcetera."

"Ah, I see. And what makes you think she's going to help
us and risk her own life in the process?"

"Dude," he said, and pointed to my bright, shiny
receipt.

"Oh, so you're gonna get her here under false pretenses
and then trick her into helping us?"

"Now you're thinking like a pro."

"No, now I'm thinking like you, and that scares me. But
Glenda does sound like a good idea. Plus, I really miss her.
You call her, though. Then I won't feel so guilty. Oh, and
you have to tell her the real reason she needs to come here.
You know, this whole mess is getting seriously dangerous,
dude."

"Fine by me. Besides, now that we know who the bad
guy is, and he doesn't know that we know, we're much safer.
And we'll follow them everywhere and never let Glenda out
of our sight. Okay?"

"Fine, sounds like it could work. Now, go call and let me use the rest of these bills up. They're burning a hole in
my pocket."

"Em, I think you have a problem."

"Oh, yes, I have a problem. I have a problem. How ironic
is that?"

"Fucker."

"Dickhead."

"Here, use this roll of fifty-cent pieces too," he said,
handing me the nice, thick stack.

"Ooh," I cooed. "Justin, I love you."

"Like, duh."

"Wait," I shouted as he got ready to leave, "I'll go with
you, and then I'll spend your money. Not that I don't trust
you, but-"

"But you don't trust me."

"No.

So I went with Justin while he made the call. It wasn't
that I didn't trust him to tell the whole truth and nothing
but, but, er, well, okay, I really didn't trust him. Years of
hanging around with him had taught me otherwise. Besides,
I wanted to say hello to Glenda and answer any questions
she might have had related to our current predicament.

Fortunately, and to our great surprise and delight, she
wholeheartedly agreed to our offer, even with the threat of
doom looming over all our heads. Seems she was bored silly
in San Francisco, with no job and no us to keep her company.
Anyway, as she told me, she could take care of herself just
fine. And years of hanging around with her had taught me
just that. So we hung up the phone, she bought the plane
tickets for the very next day, and I went and exchanged my
receipt for a room for a week at the Aladdin. Even with
COMDEX still in full force, they had the room available.
I guessed that they saved rooms for high rollers and triplegenie winners, such as myself. And I was fairly certain that
those rooms didn't stink like a pool.

Now all we had to do was make it through the night
without getting followed, kidnapped, chased, or murdered.
That should've been easy, but considering our recent luck,
maybe not. To be on the safe side, we donned our overly
large hats and studded glasses as we made our way back
to Caesar's. And we looked over our shoulders every two
minutes. Nothing was there to cause us concern. No black
car. No blond bartender. No SWAT team. Just a few thousand tourists and us.

When we made it back to our room, there was a lovely
red rose taped to the door, care of Caesar himself. And
though he didn't say anything about it, I detected a slight
grin on Justin's face. It seemed that my friend might finally
have been softening. Apparently, getting kidnapped will do
that to a person.

"So now what do we do?" I asked, after I plopped down
on my bed.

"We move the dresser in front of the door and wait for
Glenda to come to our rescue," he answered, and got up to
do just that. I helped. Seemed like a good idea, all things
considered. Besides, the housekeeper had already restocked
the minifridge, meaning we were set for the night.

Glenda arrived the next morning, bright and early. We were
so thrilled she was joining our little group again that we
woke up way before our usual time and met her as she got
off her plane.

"Wow, you guys must be desperate. It's only nine-thirty,"
she exclaimed, and promptly gave us both a hug.

"Why? Can't we just be happy to see an old, dear friend?"
Justin asked.

"Not at nine-thirty, no," she responded.

"Yes, we're desperate," I admitted.

"Thought so," she said as we made our way through the
airport.

We stopped at a coffee shop, loaded up on caffeine and
danish, and filled Glenda in on all that had been going on
with us. She shook her head in disbelief as the story unfolded.
"So, you've barely been here a week, three people are dead,
there's no vase, and someone is out to either kill you or steal
the money that Brian gave you, right?" she summed it up.
We nodded a yes in unison. "Well, that sounds like a typical
week for you two," she said with a grin.

"Hardly," I said, and gave her another hug to indicate
how happy I was that she was there.

"Hey now, cut out the mushy stuff. I'm here for the free
room and board," she said, pushing me away.

"Who said anything about board?" Justin asked.

"Oh, there's board, all right. And none of that crappy
off-the-Strip board, either. You guys are going to fatten this
chick up but good. If I'm gonna risk my life for you two,
it's gonna be on a full buffet stomach," she informed us,
patting her tummy. We readily agreed to her demands. And
then we were off to the Aladdin once again.

"What's the deal with the granny hats and glasses?" she
asked as we got into a cab.

"Incognito," we answered, and handed hers to her. We
came prepared.

Minutes later, we pulled up to the hotel and were in our
new room, pronto. We decided that the less we were seen on
the street, the better.

Now, to say that Glenda's room was bigger and better
than ours at Caesar's would be a gross understatement. Her
room was not only palatial in comparison, it also had this
wonderful aroma of fresh-cut roses. Where we had two twin
beds, separated by a tiny table lamp, Glenda had a fabulous king-sized one, complete with an expensive-looking
comforter set and extra-fluffy pillows. Where we had our
measly, poorly stocked minifridge, Glenda had a full kitchen
and a welcome wine, fruit, and cheese basket fit for a queen. And since we weren't the queens it was intended for, we
were outrageously jealous. I was beginning to wonder if
it had been a good idea to give Glenda that room instead
of ours. She never would've been the wiser. (Alas, there's
that nasty hindsight dilemma again.) But maybe, if we were
lucky, she'd let us crash there. Oh, I prayed for that. My
sinuses were not thrilled with the constant odor of pool.

"Nice room," she said, indifferently, and threw her
luggage down on the plush bed.

"Nice? Is that all you can say?" Justin asked, indignant
at the fact that he was sleeping in something one level up
from a trailer and she was in this luxurious suite.

"Okay, nice-and would you like some champagne and
orange juice?" she quickly added.