Shooting On the Strip (4 page)

“Thank you, Mr. Fontaine. And if you do find out anything about the investigator, let me know, would you?”

“Of course,” said Luke.

We were on our way to the moving truck rental place when I asked Luke why he hadn’t discussed the case in more detail with Dan.

“I felt sure that you’d ask him where the P.I.’s office was so that you could get the information about the moving truck from the guy’s secretary or something,” I said.

“This town isn’t that big,” he said. “It isn’t likely that many people rented a truck on the night that Wilson was filmed. Besides, I got to thinking about Wilson’s lack of…let’s call it a lack of ambition. There has to be someone else involved in the disappearance of the investigator. And what were they being so secretive about moving? Stolen merchandise? Drugs?”

“All the more reason that we need to find out who this investigator was so we can figure out what he knew. Why didn’t you ask Dan?”

“I don’t know Dan all that well. Plus he’s awfully jittery. Someone like that is more likely to talk to people who might not need to be aware of what we’re doing.”

“I imagine you’re right about that,” I said. “You think whoever is involved in whatever Wilson was doing that night is someone Dan knows?”

“I think it’s a strong possibility. Think about it. Who are the people most workers see the most?” he asked.

“Their fellow workers.”

“Exactly. So if you’re into something illegal, you know which of your coworkers might be willing to go into it with you, and you know who you can trust,” he said.

“That means someone could be using the Las Vegas branch of Fontaine Enterprises as a base of operations for something illegal,” I said. “Could that come back on you in any way?”

“I doubt it. But as manager, it could certainly come back on Dan.”

“Did Dan tell you the name of the private investigator?” I asked.

“No, but I own the place. That won’t be too hard to discover.”

Luke was right. On the night Wilson loaded fifty pound packages of
stuff
, for lack of a better word, into the moving truck, only three people had rented vehicles. One of the vehicles was a small van, so we ruled that person out. The other two were named Gus Mahaffey and Cyrus Grayson.

Luke explained that our friend had been missing since the night the trucks had been rented. The clerk said that both the trucks had been returned on time. Luke insisted that the driver of the truck might know something about our friend.

His earnest plea accompanied by a one-hundred dollar bill convinced the clerk that it wouldn’t hurt to let us sneak a peek at the log. We left armed with the addresses of Gus and Cyrus and no idea how to approach either one.

We started with Gus Mahaffey. On the drive to Mahaffey’s work address—a casino far on the outskirts of Vegas—we discussed how we might best approach him.

“I know,” I said. “We’ll tell him he was the rental company’s one millionth customer and that he’s won a prize. We’ll give him a restaurant gift card or something and then ask him about his experience with the rental company…if the moving truck adequately served his needs and whatever else we can think of to ask that will either tell us he’s our guy or rule him out.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re brilliant?” Luke asked.

“You have…but we’re usually in bed when you say it.”

He chuckled. “Well, you’re brilliant out of bed too.”

“Thank you.”

We stopped and got Gus Mahaffey a gift card to a national restaurant chain before going on to the casino—The Lucky Stiff.

The Lucky Stiff was everything you might imagine a lesser casino to be—way too colorful, way too noisy, and way too crowded with people who didn’t appear affluent enough to be gambling away their money.

A young man with slicked back dark brown hair approached us. He was wearing jeans, a western shirt, a sport coat, and cowboy boots.

“Howdy! Welcome to the Lucky Stiff! Where would you like to start?”

I thought I’d like to start with washing and restyling his hair, but I didn’t say so. In fact, I didn’t say anything. I thought Luke should take the lead on this because I guessed he could do the award presentation thing better than I could. He’d certainly had more experience with it.

“Are you Gus Mahaffey, by any chance?” Luke asked.

“Uh, no…’fraid I ain’t,” he said. “Gus is one of our blackjack dealers. He in any trouble?”

“No, just the opposite,” said Luke. “We’re here to present him with an award.”

“Heck! I’ll get somebody to fill in for him, and then I’ll bring him over. Why don’t you wait at the bar?”

“We’ll do that.” Luke put his hand at the small of my back and led me to the bar.

The bartender was a woman with straight black hair that hung past her shoulders. She gave Luke an appraising look before asking, “What can I get you?”

“I’d like a white wine,” I said.

“Make that two please,” Luke said.

She sat the wine glasses in front of us, poured the wine, and quoted us a price. Luke put the money plus a tip onto the bar.

While we were waiting for Gus, we stared at each other. Luke had the dreamiest sapphire blue eyes I’d ever seen. My gaze wandered down to his full lips. My own lips parted. I wet them with the tip of my tongue.

“Penny?” he asked with a devilish grin.

He knew me far too well to need to offer a penny for my thoughts.

“You’ll need to do better than a penny.” I smiled. “These thoughts…or maybe I should say
plans
…don’t come cheap.”

Luke ran his hand slowly up my arm, over my shoulder, and then traced half the vee neck of my blouse. “I’m intrigued.”

Before our flirtation could go any farther, Gus Mahaffey joined us. I was a little disappointed. But then, as soon as we got this matter dealt with, the sooner we could get back to our hotel.

“Hello,” said the man in a voice as smooth and rich as caramel. His skin was a café au lait color, and he had light brown eyes. “I’m Gus Mahaffey. Bucky said you wanted to see me.”

“That’s right,” said Luke, turning to Gus. “Is there somewhere we could talk privately?”

“Sure. How about that corner table?” He nodded toward a table in a more vacant area of the room.

“That’ll be fine.”

Luke and I followed Gus over to the table, and we all sat down.

“I hope he wasn’t pulling my leg, but Bucky said I’d won some sort of prize or something,” said Gus.

“Well, he’s absolutely right,” said Luke. “You have. You were the one hundredth customer of the quarter for A and E Rentals, and we have a hundred-dollar gift card for you to Landonbury Steakhouse.”

“Really?” Gus broke into a wide grin. “How about that?”

“Congratulations,” I said.

“Thank you!”

Luke presented Gus with the gift card, and Gus thanked us again.

“Do you mind if we ask you just a few questions about your experience with A and E Rentals?” Luke asked.

“No. Fire away.”

Luke asked Gus about what he was using the truck for on the night in question. Gus never hesitated as he told us he’d been putting some of his grandmother’s furniture in storage.

His lips tightened. “She’d become too infirm to take care of herself, and we all work so there was no alternative but to move her into assisted living.”

“Hey, some of those places are really ritzy!” I was doing my best to be positive. It was apparent it had been hard on Gus to move his grandmother into a nursing home.

He nodded. “This one is nice.” He suddenly smiled again. “And I know just who I’m taking to dinner with this gift card!”

“That’s great,” I said. “Did anyone help you move your grandmother’s things?”

“Um…my brother did,” said Gus.

“His name isn’t Martin by any chance, is it?” I asked.

Gus frowned. “No. Why?”

“I…uh…went to school with a Martin Mahaffey.” I giggled. “I figured it was a long shot, but you never know…right?”

“Yeah…I guess.”

“Were you treated respectfully by the employees of A and E Rentals both upon taking the moving truck and upon returning it?” Luke asked.

He really
was
good at this…way better than I was.

“Yes, sir, I was,” said Gus. “They were as nice as they could be. They even asked if there was anything I needed with regard to boxes or anything.”

“And was there?” asked Luke.

“No. As I explained to the clerk, I wasn’t moving anything small. I had a bedroom suite, a sofa, a chair, and a grandfather clock,” said Gus. “That was it.”

“Thank you so much for your time, Mr. Mahaffey.” Luke stood and shook Gus’s hand. “I hope you and your grandmother have a wonderful time at Landonbury.”

“I’m sure we will.”

“What’s your grandmother’s name?” I asked.

“Mabel,” he said. “She’s the best.”

“Okay,” I said as we got into the car to leave. “I guess Cyrus is our guy.”

“Do we want to talk with him tonight or tomorrow morning?”

“I think old Cyrus will still be around in the morning, don’t you?” I asked. “I have plans for you…
now
.”

Should I be ashamed to admit that we didn’t even make it back to the hotel? We found a dusty little deserted road and pulled onto the shoulder. The rental car was, naturally, much smaller than the limousine. And no tinted windows made it more likely we’d get caught. We didn’t mind…in fact, that was kind of a turn on in itself.

I’d unzipped Luke’s pants and freed his cock before we’d even got out of the parking lot of the Lucky Stiff. I was getting hotter just stroking him.

“Slip your jeans and your panties off,” he said.

I hated taking my hand off his hard cock, but I did as he asked.

I went back to fondling his dick as he fingered my pussy.

“I can’t stand this. We need to be alone!”

“I’m working on it,” he said.

That’s when he spotted the dusty road. He drove up the road a short distance and then pulled over.

“I’m gonna get in the backseat,” he said. “You straddle the console back and front.”

I giggled in anticipation as I maneuvered my legs into the backseat and on either side of the console.

Luke slid in behind me. “Are you ready for me?”

“Always.”

With his hands on my waist, he adjusted my position slightly until he could drive his cock into my pussy. He began moving his dick in circles, teasing me as he pushed my ass cheeks together.

Despite the wonderful sensations, I became anxious when I saw a car heading our way.

“Luke! There’s a car coming.”

“There’s about to be a man coming…a woman too, I hope.”

“But, shouldn’t I do something?” I asked.

“Nope. I believe I can handle it.”

“Luke!”

He kept pumping. “Lock the door.”

I leaned up slightly to lock the door, slipped and fell onto the horn. Naturally, at the sound of the blaring horn, the driver of the other car thought we were in distress. I managed to lock the door before he pulled over and got out.

“What’re we gonna do?” I wailed.

“Finish,” Luke said, laughter in his voice. “You summoned an audience. Let’s give ‘em a show.”

“But—”

As the man approached our car, I turned my face in the other direction. I’m guessing Luke did the same, but I can’t be sure. I hoped we’d sufficiently fogged the windows enough to cover…well…everything else.

There was a knock on the window, then a “Sorry!” and then the sound of retreating feet.

Luke chuckled. “If he was shocked by us, he must not visit Vegas very often.”

Cyrus Grayson lived in a townhouse in Green Valley. We had another gift card to get us through the door, even though he
had
to be the driver of the truck loaded by Martin Wilson.

Luke knocked on the door, and a woman in her mid-fifties answered.

“Good morning,” she said, opening the door just a tiny bit. “What can I do for you?”

Luke gave her the spiel about Cyrus being the customer chosen from A and E Rentals for a one-hundred dollar gift card, but she was still skittish about trusting two strangers until Luke held up the card.

“Is this for real?” she asked.

“It is,” he said.

She undid the safety chain and opened the door all the way. “Well, how nice! This is such a blessing! Come on in, and I’ll get Daddy.”

Daddy
?

Luke and I shared a look of apprehension. That look turned to downright horror when the woman wheeled a little old man with an oxygen tank into the living room.

“Daddy, these people are with A and E Rentals. That’s the place where we rented the moving truck, remember?”

He nodded.

“Daddy can’t take care of himself anymore, so I moved in with him last week. We rented the truck to bring over my bed, dresser, chest of drawers, and my dining room table—it was in better shape than his,” she said, looking at her father cautiously. “Not to hurt your feelings, Daddy, but it was.” She smiled at us. “My brother and I cleared me out a room, put some of Daddy’s things in the attic, and hauled off that old table. It had been in the family a long time, but I don’t think you could really consider it an heirloom.”

“This is Cyrus Grayson?” Luke asked.

I believe he was hoping maybe Cyrus was the woman’s brother. That would make more sense because there was no way the man sitting before us in his wheelchair could’ve been driving the truck loaded by Martin Wilson.

“It is!” She patted his back gently. “And I’m Cindy. Daddy, say hello to Mr. and Mrs. Fontaine.”

Cyrus wheezed out a greeting.

“Do you own A and E Rentals?” Cindy asked.

“No, we…uh…we’re just here on their behalf today to thank you for your patronage,” said Luke.

“Yes,” I added. “Do you feel A and E Rentals adequately met your needs for this moving job of yours?”

“We sure do,” said Cindy. “Daddy, we won a gift card to Landonbury Steakhouse! Isn’t that nice? Maybe we can get Gary—that’s my brother—” she explained to us—“and his wife and make an evening of it. Won’t that be fun?”

Cyrus nodded. “Nice. Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome,” I told him. “Congratulations. And, Cindy, I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves.”