Shooting On the Strip (5 page)

“We will.” She smiled. “It’ll be nice to give myself a break from cooking for one evening.”

“We won’t take up anymore of your time,” Luke said. “It was a pleasure meeting you both. Enjoy your meal!”

“Gus Mahaffey lied to us,” Luke said as we got back into the car.

“Obviously. I wonder if he overheard the Graysons’ story and simply used that as his own alibi,” I said. “Grandma Mabel my eye!”

“The real problem is that he’s several steps ahead of us now.” Luke backed out of the townhouse parking lot. “He knows we’ll be back when we find out he
has
to have been the driver of the truck.”

“But he doesn’t know how many people rented trucks that evening,” I said. “Maybe he thinks we won’t be on to him for a long time…or maybe he thinks we’re stupid and will
never
make the connection.”

“I don’t think so. We’d better go to the police station before this goes any farther.” He took a left out of the parking lot so we were headed back in the direction we came. “Use the GPS to find the nearest police station.”

While I was requesting the GPS to find the address, Luke’s phone rang. He used his hands-free device to answer and to put the phone on speaker.

“Hello. Luke Fontaine.”

“Mr. Fontaine, it’s Dan Sellers. There’s someone named Gus here in my office. He’s spouting nonsense like a crazy person, but he won’t let me leave. I…I’m mortified to say it, but I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry, Dan.” Luke shot me a glance from the corner of his eye. “I’m sure this is simply a misunderstanding. Brandy and I are on our way.”

“Thank you. I—”

Dan was interrupted by a man saying, “This is Gus Mahaffey. By now you’ve probably figured out that I was driving the truck Martin Wilson loaded the other night. But I’m not testifying in some workers’ compensation trial. Martin might look big and dumb, but he’s dangerous.”

“I’m on my way there to discuss this with you in person,” Luke said. “Please don’t do anything rash. We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” He ended the call.

“Now what?”

“Now we call our security team and let them know what’s happening while we’re en route to Dan Seller’s office,” he said.

“But what
is
happening?” I asked.

“At the very least, Gus Mahaffey really is afraid he’ll be summoned to testify in a workers’ comp hearing. I’m guessing, though, that this goes much farther than that and that Gus and Martin are involved in transporting something illegal,” said Luke. “Either way, we aren’t going in there blind. Gus might be the very person who got rid of the private investigator.”

Luke called his head of security over the Las Vegas office and explained the situation. The security guy said he’d call the police immediately and let them know what was happening.

“It sounds as if we might have a hostage situation,” he said.

“I think that’s precisely what we have,” said Luke.

Once Luke ended that call, he called the police and told them the same thing, asking that they not tell his security team that he also called. He said he was merely being cautious since the kidnapper might have other people in place compromising his office’s security.

“Do you think that’s true?” I asked Luke when he’d finished the call.

“We know Gus Mahaffey isn’t working alone,” said Luke. “We have to be prepared for anything.” He slapped the steering wheel with his palm. “I just hate I gave a liar like Mahaffey a hundred dollar gift card to a steakhouse!”

“But you gave the Graysons one too, and they’ll enjoy it very much,” I reminded him. “Besides, wasn’t it worth two hundred dollars to find out who the police need to question with regard to the disappearance of the investigator and running an illegal operation out of one of your offices?”

“Yes. I just wish we’d come to Grayson first. Then we’d have known beyond the shadow of doubt that Mahaffey was our guy…and we wouldn’t be in the predicament we’re in now.”

The office was buzzing with activity as we walked in. Luke went to the front desk and told the receptionist he needed to speak with the head of security. We were ushered into his office.

This office’s head of security was Mike Herman, a tall, broad, bald man who didn’t appear to be as much “older” as he appeared to be “seasoned.”

“What’s the situation, Mike?” Luke asked.

“Well, Mr. Fontaine, I can’t say for sure. There’s no security camera in Dan’s office, but I’ve been monitoring the hallway outside the office. It doesn’t appear that anything serious is happening.” He held up his hands. “That’s not to say Dan isn’t scared out of his mind, but I’m not getting the feeling Mahaffey is hurting him in any way…at least, not yet.”

“You think Mahaffey is waiting for Brandy and me to get here first?”

“Could be. I do think I should accompany you up,” said Mike.

Luke sighed. “I don’t want Mahaffey to think we’re on to him yet. At this point, he wants us to believe that he simply doesn’t want to testify against Wilson at a workers’ comp hearing.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” asked Mike.

“Of course I don’t. But I don’t want to tip my hand before I find out everything I can.”

Mike nodded. “I’ll want to be just outside Sellers’ door at the very least. That way I can get to you if things start to get out of hand.”

“Okay.”

Mike rolled his eyes in my direction. “Want me to keep the missus with me?”

Luke grinned. “No, I think you’d be safer if she were with me. She’d get crazy if she didn’t know what was going on in that room.”

“All right.” Mike smiled at me. A smile on Mike’s craggy face seemed as incongruous as a beard on a toddler, but it was nice. “Watch out for him in there.”

“I will.” I smiled. As intimidating as he could be, I really liked Mike. And I was really glad he’d have our backs when we went into Dan’s office.

The three of us went up in the elevator. Mike walked behind Luke and me as we went to Dan’s door. Luke knocked.

“Mr. Fontaine, is that you?” Dan called from inside the room.

“It’s me.”

“Anyone with you?” Dan asked.

“I am,” I said.

“Come in then,” he said.

Luke opened the door. Usually, he’d be a gentleman and allow me to go in first. This time, he went in ahead of me to assess the situation before I walked into the room.

“Close the door!” Dan said. “Quickly!”

I restrained myself from looking back at Mike, who I knew would be our sentinel as soon as the door closed.

“Mr. Mahaffey, I’m sorry our visit yesterday caused you such distress,” Luke said. “How did you come to realize we weren’t really with A and E Rentals?”

Mahaffey, who was sitting on the desk beside Dan’s chair, sighed. “I knew something was up when you were talking with me about the truck rental…what I used it for and all of that. I knew Martin Wilson was drawing workers’ comp benefits from being injured on the job and that he shouldn’t be loading sandbags onto a truck.”

“Sandbags?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s what they were…sandbags,” he said. “But Martin is my friend, and I wasn’t about to rat him out, so I made up that story about my grandmother. Now I’m afraid I’m going to be accused of plagiarism…is that what you get for lying to a judge?”

“It’s perjury,” said Luke. “And we’re not judges, so you aren’t in any trouble there. Dan, had you intended to call Mr. Mahaffey as a witness against Martin Wilson in a workers’ compensation hearing?”

“Well…without knowing where the private investigator is and when he might return, I do need a witness against Mr. Wilson,” Dan said.

“Why were you loading sandbags onto a truck at night?” I asked Mr. Mahaffey. “And, if you were so concerned about having to testify against your friend, why didn’t you ask someone else to help? Furthermore, why didn’t you get out of the truck to help him yourself?”

“I…I…” He blew out a breath. “Tell ‘em, Dan! You’re the one that dragged me into this mess! Now get us both out of it!”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Dan said to us. “I’m with Mrs. Fontaine on the whole sandbag idea. What was
that
about?”

“What was that about?” Gus Mahaffey sprang from the desk and turned on Dan. He grabbed Dan by the collar and shoved him and his chair up against the wall. “I said
sandbags
because it was a better cover story than your cocaine! And if you try to pawn the death of that old man you shot onto me, I’ll kill—”

At that point, Mike burst through the door followed by a pair of uniformed deputies.

“Mr. Mahaffey, please step away from Mr. Sellers,” said Mike. “Deputies, arrest them both.”

“On what grounds?” Dan asked. “I haven’t done anything!”

“That remains to be seen,” said Mike. “When I got the call from Mr. Fontaine earlier, I began looking into your financials. It appears some pretty substantial deposits have gone into your accounts. I didn’t have time to dig into it very deeply, but these officers will see to that.”

A thorough investigation revealed that Dan Sellers had been using contacts he’d made through Fontaine Enterprises to sell cocaine. Martin Wilson had helped him until he’d hurt his back. His back hadn’t been hurt that badly, but Martin was lazy and was thrilled at the opportunity to do nothing and get paid for it.

Dan, the manager, resented Martin’s not doing his legitimate job. But Dan, the drug dealer, needed Martin to continue working for him. That is, until the investigator hired to follow up on all workers’ compensation claims came to Dan and told him that he believed Martin was not only faking his disability but was involved in transporting illegal drugs.

Dan, not realizing what the P.I. may have seen, couldn’t take the chance that he’d be linked to Martin and the drugs. He knew very well that Martin would have sold him out in order to make a plea deal. So he called the investigator, set up a meeting, and then shot him. He had Gus Mahaffey bury the body.

He then tried to discredit Martin by contacting Luke and telling him that he believed Martin was faking his injury and suggesting that Martin might’ve gotten rid of the private investigator.

We wound up having to stay in Las Vegas a little longer than we’d intended since Luke had to hire Dan Sellers’ replacement. That was okay. There was a lot to see there…and some things worth seeing twice.

Selena Cooper lives in the southern United States and loves to hear from readers.

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