Red Roses in Las Vegas (20 page)

Mike Bitzer’s house was dark, as was every other house on the street.

I killed my engine and stepped out, feeling a little guilty for destroying the peace.

“Maybe he’s not even at home,” I whispered to Ian.

“Maybe,” he whispered back, and we stepped quietly towards the front door, trying our best to blend into the dark quietness.

I pressed the buzzer, and we heard it ringing in the house. Or maybe it was just my imagination. The house seemed dead, and I pressed the buzzer again.

I thought I heard footsteps, and then a light went on and I took a step back just as Mike opened the door and blinked out at us sleepily.

“What’s going on?” he said softly, glancing back inside the house. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah,” said Ian, as we stepped inside, uninvited.

“Sorry about bothering you,” I said softly. “It’s just… we’re running out of time.” Mike gave me a puzzled look, and I didn’t feel like explaining. “Did you know that your brother was blackmailing a bunch of women?”

Mike looked from me to Ian, and then back at me. He was wearing blue and white striped pajamas, and his feet were bare. His eyes were sleep-ridden, and an expression of annoyance was starting to creep over his features.

“Mi-ike?” called a feminine voice from inside the house. “Who is it? Is everything ok?”

“It’s fine,” Mike called back. “Just stay in bed, I’ll be right back.”

I frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Claire.”

I crossed my arms and Ian said, “Yeah. You’ve got some other woman here. Who is it?”

Mike sighed, and gestured towards the living room. “Let’s sit down.”

He switched on the light and we arranged ourselves on the spotless white sofas, the cream rug gleaming up at us from the floor. “What’s going on?”

“I found out–”

“Before that,” Ian said, interrupting me. “What the hell’s going on with this woman? Who is she?”

Mike narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. I wondered if we were doing the right thing by bothering Mike about this woman, so I quickly said, “I’m sure it’s none of our business.” I gave
Ian a warning look, and he shrugged. “Back to Adam. Did you know he was blackmailing these women?”

“Nicole Weiss,” supplied Ian. “Michelle Ackermann. Rachel Nge and Alexia Boyle.”

“I had no idea,” said Mike. “I just… when you asked about them, I thought maybe they were just friends of Adam’s.”

“Well, they were more than just friends,” Ian said. “Who else was he blackmailing?”

“Huh?” Mike looked at us blankly. “This is the first I’m hearing about this.”

“Really?” I looked at him carefully. He really did look clueless. “Are you sure you’d never heard about this? Maybe some other woman was threatening Adam, maybe Adam was following someone around?”

Mike shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve got no idea about that. And to tell the truth, I’m finding it a bit hard to believe. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he glanced at the clock. “It’s really late. I need to get to bed, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Really?” said Ian. “You’re not just kicking us out because of the woman in your bedroom?”

“Yeah,” I said slowly. “Who is she?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said brusquely, standing up. “You guys need to go.”

“Maybe Claire should know about this woman,” said Ian.

Mike looked at Ian steadily, and after a few seconds he said, “Are you threatening me?”

“No,” said Ian. “Just making a suggestion.”

There was another pause, and then Mike said, “Claire and I have an open marriage. She won’t care about this.”

I didn’t buy the open marriage thing for a second, but I didn’t feel like pushing it. “Where
is
Claire, by the way?” I said. “Pretty convenient that you’ve got the house to yourself, like this.”

Mike glared at me. “Claire’s in LA, she’s got a meeting with some senator there.”

“Right. And when’s she coming back?”

“Tomorrow, sometime.” He glanced at the clock again. “Look, I really need to get back to sleep.”

“You know what,” Ian said slowly, “I reckon it was you.”

“What?” Mike said, and we both turned to him.

Ian nodded. “We know Adam was a blackmailer. We know you’re sleeping around, and we know Claire doesn’t know.” Mike started to say something, and Ian interrupted. “Oh, please. Spare me the open-marriage bull. Truth is, you’re dependent on Claire’s money and her career, and you can’t let her divorce you.”

“I make a lot of money as a nurse,” Mike said, narrowing his eyes and looking as though he’d like Ian to vaporize on the spot.

Ian snorted. “Sure, but it’s nothing like the kind of cash Claire’s inherited. So Adam found out about your little secret, took a few photos, and told you that you’d better pay up. Or else.”

“Or else what?” Mike said, looking at us incredulously.

“Or else.” Ian waved his arms about. “He’d tell Claire. You could kiss the easy life goodbye.”

“Hunh.” Mike looked at us, his eyes seething with disbelief. “The easy life. I’ve got a five a.m. shift tomorrow, so you guys better scram. I need to enjoy
the easy life
.”

“Where were you,” I said slowly, “last Friday night?”

Mike laughed, a short, disbelieving laugh. “Are you two idiots, seriously, accusing
me
of killing my own
brother
? Are you guys nuts, or what?”

I looked at Ian, and knew we were both thinking the same thing. We weren’t the ones who were nuts – it was Mike.

“Get out,” said Mike, walking over to the front door and opening it for us. His eyes were blazing with suppressed fury, and I was starting to feel a bit nervous.

We walked to the door, and I was the first to step out.

“But where were you?” Ian said. “Really.”

“Nebraska. Taking care of my friend’s dad. While my
brother
was killed.”

He slammed the door shut, and Ian and I stood there for a few seconds, watching the lights go off in the house.

“It was him,” Ian said, as I drove back to our building. “I know it was him.”

I knew it too. But he had an alibi – an alibi that put him three states away.

“You need to check his alibi,” Ian said, as though he’d read my mind.

We headed into my condo, and I made us both mugs of hot coffee, and called Stone.

“Hey,” he said, picking up after one ring. “What’s up? How was your party?”

I frowned. “How’d you hear about that?”

“Your nanna told me. Did you and
Jack
have a good time?”

He said
Jack
as though it were a dirty word and I decided not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

“It was nice,” I said. “But I need a big favor.”

“Like?”

“Do you have any contacts in Homeland Security?”

“Hmm. Depends on what you need.”

“I need someone to check flight records. And why are you still up? Don’t you sleep?” It was almost three a.m.

I heard the smile in Stone’s voice. “I do sleep. Just not when I’ve got work.”

“Can you find the records?”

“Who’d you want to check?”

“Mike Bitzer,” I said. “He claims he left last week for Nebraska and got back on Sunday.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“Nope.”

“I’m on it,” Stone said, and hung up.

“When do you think we’ll know?” Ian asked, sipping his coffee.

“I’m not sure.”

We both looked at the clock, wondering if we should get some sleep. But my pulse was racing and I wasn’t sure I could sleep even if I wanted to. Mike was our guy – I could feel it. Now I just needed some proof. The flight records would be a start. Maybe someone saw him heading into Adam’s office, or maybe he had the murder weapon lying around somewhere in his house.

Ten minutes later, Stone called back.

“So?” I asked eagerly. “What’d you find out?”

Ian looked at me eagerly, and I wondered if I should put the phone on speaker. Before I could press the speakerphone button, Stone said, “Not much. My guy’s got the night off.”

“Oh.” I tried to hide my frustration. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s going to work tomorrow, and he’ll check things out then. Get some sleep now.”

“Yeah,” I said, hanging up with sigh.

I’d come so close – and now we were asked to wait again.

“What’d he say?” Ian asked, and I turned to face him with disappointed eyes.

“The guy’s not at work. Stone thinks we should get some sleep.”

“It
is
late.”

“Yeah.”

We glanced at the clock and continued to sit there.

“You know,” Ian said. “Maybe he’s got the murder weapon somewhere in the house.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” I turned to Ian. “If we can find it, that’s proof that Nanna’s innocent.”

“We just need to find the gun.”

I nodded. “If it’s in the house, we just need to…”

I let my words trail off and Ian said, “Didn’t Jack teach you how to break into places?”

“Some stuff.” I sipped my coffee thoughtfully. “You’re not suggesting we break in, are you? That’s a felony.”

“Yeah. But it’s a tiny thing. Compared to murder.”

“You’re right.” I swirled the liquid in my mug, wondering if I were crazy for agreeing with Ian.

“And Mike’s not going to be home,” Ian continued. “He said his shift starts at five.”

I looked at him thoughtfully. Were we just leading each other on with our stupidity? “It’ll still be dark at five. The neighbors won’t see anything.”

“Claire’s not home either. It’s the perfect opportunity.”

“We might not get another chance like this again.”

Ian and I were silent for a few minutes, and then he said, “It’s up to you. But if you go, I’ll go with you.”

“The living room window was open tonight,” I said. “If it’s still open, we can just pry off the screen and step inside.”

“It’s a plan.” Ian stood up. “Let’s practice taking off your window’s screen.”

“No,” I said. “I’ll know how to do it when we get there. You just kind of pop it off.”

“What if there’s an alarm?”

I hadn’t considered that.

“Maybe we should just cut our way in,” Ian suggested.

I nodded. “And that’ll be easier, too.”

***

We were back at Mike’s house at exactly five-thirty. Neither Ian nor I had slept a wink, and I felt my pulse beating wildly. This was it, I told myself. This was me proving Nanna’s innocence, once and for all.

The street was still dark, the houses on both sides lifeless and pitch black. Street lights illuminated both sides, but as long as nobody was watching us, we were safe. The scent of jasmine perfumed the air, and I wondered whose garden it was coming from. A bird chirped somewhere, starting its day early, and I cursed silently, hoping it wouldn’t wake anyone.

Ian and I slipped on our plastic gloves and headed towards the house. We paused for a moment, listening for any sounds, but there were none.

“Let’s do it,” Ian said, and I pulled a big chef’s knife from my bag.

“Here goes,” I whispered, and made a quick, sharp cut along the right edge, top to bottom.

We paused, ready to turn and run away. We waited for alarms to go off, sirens to sound, or some kind of strobe light to flash. There was nothing. We exhaled, and looked at each other.

“Couple more cuts,” I whispered, as much to reassure myself as to reassure Ian, and I made another cut along the top, this time from right to left.

“Maybe they’ve got one of those silent alarms,” Ian whispered.

“Thanks,” I hissed back. “You think I hadn’t thought of that?”

We waited a few seconds, before I went on to make the third cut, this time along the left side, from the top to the bottom.

“Maybe one of the neighbors is watching,” Ian whispered hoarsely. “Maybe they’re calling the cops right now.”

“Will you stop trying to make me feel better?” I hissed. “I’m brave enough as it is.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Shut up.”

“I was just pointing ou–”

“Well stop it.” I made the final cut, along the bottom, from the left to the right.

I slipped my hand inside the mesh, pulled it out, and placed it carefully on the manicured lawn. Ian and I glanced around – the houses were still all dark, and there were no squad cars pulling up to the curb.

“I think we’re in,” I whispered, and stepped over the window-sill and into the room.

Ian followed my lead and promptly bumped into something. I heard it topple over and fall to the ground with a crash.