Read Online Red Roses in Las Vegas by A.R. Winters - Free Book Online Page B

to her. What’s your number? I’ll text it over.”
    “Thanks.” I gave her my number and said, “How was their relationship? Other than Cynthia seeming to treat Adam badly. Any fights? Or problems?”
    My phone beeped with Cynthia’s details, and Sharon shook her head. “No, they seemed ok. Adam was a pushover when it came to pretty women.”
    I thought Sharon was pretty cute, and that Adam was an idiot for not seeing what was right there under his nose, but I kept that thought to myself. Thankfully, Ian didn’t say anything, either.
    “I guess I’ll have to give her a call,” I said. “You know what they say – ‘It’s usually the wife.’ Or girlfriend, in this case.”
    “To be honest though,” Sharon said. “I doubt Cynthia would even bother to shoot someone. She might break a nail. And besides, Adam told me she wasn’t in Vegas.”
    “Where’d she go?”
    “Down to LA for work. She went, sometimes. And I figure, she cares so much about Adam that she’s not even back in Vegas yet.”
    “I guess I’ll find out when I call her.”
    “Sure,” Sharon said. “You never know.”
    “What about work?” I asked, changing the topic. I’d asked this question a gazillion times already, but it never hurt to ask again. “Did he have any troubles at work? Anyone here hate him?”
    Sharon shook her head. “Nope. Everyone at this place gets along pretty well, mainly because we’ve got a flat structure and Clark’s a pretty good boss. He definitely didn’t have any enemies here.”
    “Hmm.”
    “What exactly do you do here?” Ian asked. “Why do you have fancy alarms on all your desks?”
    Sharon shrugged. “The alarms’re because Clark’s a bit of a security freak. We do – you know, financial advisory stuff. But I guess you meant me in particular? I do all the accounts work.”
    “But Matt DiMucci is your boss.”
    “Yep. He just oversees what I do, really. And a couple of extra accounts, but that’s it.”
    “Sounds like Mob work to me,” Ian said, and Sharon and I shared a look.
    “Listen,” she told Ian, “I don’t know where you get your ideas, but we’re just a regular business, here. If I showed you my accounts, it’d bore you to tears.”
    “But you don’t see all the accounts,” Ian said. “Don’t you find it weird that your boss does a bit of extra work and that’s it?”
    I took a deep breath and said, “Is there anything else you can tell me about Adam?”
    “Not really.”
    I cast my mind back to the conversation I’d overheard, right before Adam had been shot, and frowned. “Give it to me,” the other person had said. By the time we got to the room, there were papers on the floor, but the desk wasn’t ransacked and the room wasn’t particularly messy. Whoever it was must’ve taken what they came for.
    “Was anything missing from Ian’s room?” I asked Sharon.
    She shook her head. “The cops had already taken his computer and a bunch of stuff by the time we got to work, so even if anything was taken, we wouldn’t know.”
    I nodded. “And what about red roses? D’you know if that meant something to Adam?”
    Sharon gave me a puzzled look, and I said, “Those were his last words. ‘Stupid red roses.’”
    Her eyes misted up again. “Sorry,” she said, “Can’t help you there.”
    Ian and I exchanged a glance, and I gave Sharon my business card. “Call me if you think of anything else.”
    “Will do.”
    Ian and I excused ourselves, and after briefly saying goodbye to Clark and thanking him for his help once again, we found ourselves on the road heading back home.
    “It’s Sharon,” Ian said as we drove along. “It’s definitely Sharon. She was sick of being passed over for the ‘bimbos,’ and she had a jealous fit and shot him in the stomach.”
    “And why would she ask him to meet her at the office?” I said. “Especially when they weren’t working late or meeting clients.”
    “I dunno. Maybe she faked a work emergency of some