Read Online Killer in High Heels by Gemma Halliday - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gemma Halliday
Tags: General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, cozy mystery, Weddings - Planning, Women fashion designers
Ads: Link
Fremont Street Experience. But honestly it was like trying to throw sequins on Keds and pass them off as Jimmy Choos. You dress it up all you like, Fremont was still the bane of Las Vegas. Only now it had a permanent pinkish neon hue to it.
The Victoria Club was clearly in the section of town that the preservationists hadn’t gotten to yet. Or didn’t dare set foot in. And I didn’t blame them. As we turned onto Fremont, the first things we saw were the flashing blue lights of a squad car blocking the road up ahead. My stomach did that lead weight thing again as I spied yellow crime-scene tape and uniformed LVMPD cordoning off a section of the street. Right outside the Victoria Club.
“Uh oh,” Dana said, voicing my exact thoughts.
I took a deep breath, my stomach churning at the thought of what might be happening behind that yellow tape. Or more accurately, to whom it was happening.
Dana parked on the street about a block away from the commotion, between Annie’s Escorts and a bail bonds agency. We said a silent prayer that Marco’s car would still be there when we got back.
The Victoria Club itself was huge, spanning almost the full city block. It was a shiny mass of building done in art deco black and gold, trimmed with lots and lots of pink neon lighting.
A crowd of people hovered around the police barricade. Homeless guys mixed with teenagers, mixed with tourists snapping pictures on their digital cameras to show the folks back home in Kansas. A uniformed police officer stood behind the line of white barricades and yellow tape, trying to convince them all that there was “nothing to see here.” Which was obviously a lie, because as I pushed my way past a guy who smelled like he’d just taken a bath in Jim Beam, I got a glimpse of the pavement in front of the club. It was red. A black plastic tarp covered a suspiciously human-shaped mound that was oozing red liquid all over the asphalt. I gulped down a dry swallow. Blood.
The scenery swayed in front of me, and I grasped the wooden police barrier for support as a guy in a jacket marked CORONER lifted an edge of the tarp ever so slightly. All I got was one glimpse of an arm, slightly hairier than normal, then my vision went fuzzy.
My dad.
Chapter Five
I sat down hard on the curb, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to ignore the oozing form under the tarp. Okay, so it was an arm. I mean, lots of people had hairy arms. That didn’t necessarily mean it was Larry’s arm, right? Right. So why was I starting to pant like a dog?
“Are you okay?” Dana asked, moving to sit, then apparently thinking better of it as she weighed her white silk skirt against the well-traveled sidewalk.
“Uh huh. Sure. Fine. Dandy.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“So I’ve been told.” I took another deep breath, peeking between Dana’s legs at the scene on the other side of the barricade.
“I’m afraid that’s…I mean, it might be…” I stumbled, my mouth going Sahara on me as I tried to voice the thousand thoughts bumping through my brain.
Dana followed my gaze. “Larry?”
“Yeah.” I started to do the golden retriever thing again.
Dana’s forehead puckered in concern. “Hey, how about you just sit tight and I’ll see if I can find out anything, okay?”
I nodded, thankful Dana had come along with me.
She scanned the group of uniformed cops. They seemed to be growing in number. Not good. Finally she picked out one who looked like he’d started shaving yesterday. Dana adjusted her cleavage. “I’ll be right back,” she said, giving me a little wink before shaking her booty over to Officer Baby Face. I mentally wished her luck, carefully looking everywhere but at that black tarp.
Okay, so in all honesty, if I had really heard Larry being shot on Friday, it was unlikely that his body had sat out here in front of the Victoria Club for three whole days before anyone noticed. And if someone had gotten away with shooting him three days ago,
The Victoria Club was clearly in the section of town that the preservationists hadn’t gotten to yet. Or didn’t dare set foot in. And I didn’t blame them. As we turned onto Fremont, the first things we saw were the flashing blue lights of a squad car blocking the road up ahead. My stomach did that lead weight thing again as I spied yellow crime-scene tape and uniformed LVMPD cordoning off a section of the street. Right outside the Victoria Club.
“Uh oh,” Dana said, voicing my exact thoughts.
I took a deep breath, my stomach churning at the thought of what might be happening behind that yellow tape. Or more accurately, to whom it was happening.
Dana parked on the street about a block away from the commotion, between Annie’s Escorts and a bail bonds agency. We said a silent prayer that Marco’s car would still be there when we got back.
The Victoria Club itself was huge, spanning almost the full city block. It was a shiny mass of building done in art deco black and gold, trimmed with lots and lots of pink neon lighting.
A crowd of people hovered around the police barricade. Homeless guys mixed with teenagers, mixed with tourists snapping pictures on their digital cameras to show the folks back home in Kansas. A uniformed police officer stood behind the line of white barricades and yellow tape, trying to convince them all that there was “nothing to see here.” Which was obviously a lie, because as I pushed my way past a guy who smelled like he’d just taken a bath in Jim Beam, I got a glimpse of the pavement in front of the club. It was red. A black plastic tarp covered a suspiciously human-shaped mound that was oozing red liquid all over the asphalt. I gulped down a dry swallow. Blood.
The scenery swayed in front of me, and I grasped the wooden police barrier for support as a guy in a jacket marked CORONER lifted an edge of the tarp ever so slightly. All I got was one glimpse of an arm, slightly hairier than normal, then my vision went fuzzy.
My dad.
Chapter Five
I sat down hard on the curb, taking deep breaths in and out, trying to ignore the oozing form under the tarp. Okay, so it was an arm. I mean, lots of people had hairy arms. That didn’t necessarily mean it was Larry’s arm, right? Right. So why was I starting to pant like a dog?
“Are you okay?” Dana asked, moving to sit, then apparently thinking better of it as she weighed her white silk skirt against the well-traveled sidewalk.
“Uh huh. Sure. Fine. Dandy.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“So I’ve been told.” I took another deep breath, peeking between Dana’s legs at the scene on the other side of the barricade.
“I’m afraid that’s…I mean, it might be…” I stumbled, my mouth going Sahara on me as I tried to voice the thousand thoughts bumping through my brain.
Dana followed my gaze. “Larry?”
“Yeah.” I started to do the golden retriever thing again.
Dana’s forehead puckered in concern. “Hey, how about you just sit tight and I’ll see if I can find out anything, okay?”
I nodded, thankful Dana had come along with me.
She scanned the group of uniformed cops. They seemed to be growing in number. Not good. Finally she picked out one who looked like he’d started shaving yesterday. Dana adjusted her cleavage. “I’ll be right back,” she said, giving me a little wink before shaking her booty over to Officer Baby Face. I mentally wished her luck, carefully looking everywhere but at that black tarp.
Okay, so in all honesty, if I had really heard Larry being shot on Friday, it was unlikely that his body had sat out here in front of the Victoria Club for three whole days before anyone noticed. And if someone had gotten away with shooting him three days ago,
Similar Books
