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At two in the afternoon, Dela couldn’t stand on her prosthesis any longer and her eyes wouldn’t stay open. She retired to a second-floor room at the end of the hall. As soon as she entered the room, she took off the layers that held her prosthesis on and cushioned the end of her leg. Her stub was red, swollen, and aching. She had been warned that wearing the fake leg for long periods of time could result in tenderness. This was the longest she’d not rested the stub since wearing the prosthesis eighteen months ago.
Using the furniture, she made her way to the bathroom, ran a bath of lukewarm water, and undressed, lowering her body into the water. She wished she’d thought to grab some Epsom salts to add to the bath. She’d have to grab some from the gift shop before she came back up next time.
She leaned her head back against the tub as she swirled her stump around in the cooling water.
The list of people she needed to talk to on the night shift was growing. Jeff Twigg, the Blackjack dealer, Verna Pyle, the surveillance member watching the monitor for the missing camera footage, and she’d learned one of the other names in the victim’s book was a local who frequented the casino, Luke Saxton. And they, she and Quinn, planned to visit with Van Branson .
The water had grown cold. She shivered and grasped the handicap bar. Using both arms and one leg, she raised her body and swung the shorter leg over the edge of the tub, then her good leg and sat on the edge as she dried off. The eighteen months she’d spent in rehab had been not only to make sure her leg had healed but to teach her new ways to go about things she’d always taken for granted.
Before the IED, she’d had her sights on twenty years in the army, and after the army, a job with either the local or state police, and a loving husband and children. Now all she saw in her future was head of security for the casino until they made her retire. And if she didn’t get out of mom’s house, living with her mom until she passed. Not an inviting future to look forward to.
Once she was dried off, she slipped into a camisole and her underwear and hopped to the bed, using the furniture. At home she used crutches to get around without her prosthesis. Dela hadn’t wanted to carry them into the casino. She never let anyone see her weaknesses.
Slipping between the covers, she set her watch for four hours. By then Quinn should have pulled up backgrounds on the people they planned to question tonight.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Dela walked into the surveillance offices at 7 PM. Her stomach was rumbling, but she wanted to see if Quinn and Marty had learned anything new.
She stepped into the backroom, and Quinn glanced up. “You look better.”
“Thanks, I didn’t know I had to look good to do my job.” She walked over to a chair.
“Don’t sit. I’m hungry. I’ll fill you in over dinner.” Quinn rose, gathering up a file that had been spread across the table in front of him.
“Okay.” She faced Marty. “Will all your night shift be here tonight?”
“No one has called in sick.”
“Good. Go get something to eat and take a break. We’ll start the questioning with Jeff when we finish dinner, then Van when he comes to work, and finally Verna. Can you think of anyone else?”
“No. I think those are the only people we know of who work here.” Marty leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms up to the ceiling.
“Quinn and I will pull Jeff away from his table after we eat. I’ll just close it until we finish talking to him.”
Quinn stood at the door waiting. She walked over and out the door he’d opened for her.
Several heads turned and watched them cross through the room. She didn’t care. The surveillance staff on duty knew they were trying to figure out who killed Tristan.
On the casino floor, she spotted the security staff working the floor. They were either in a specified spot watching or mingling through the crowd, looking for potential trouble. She and Godfrey had trained every member of the staff. Dela was proud of the quality of people they had working for them.
“You want the buffet or the dining room?” Quinn asked.
“Actually, I’d prefer the grill.” She didn’t like the buffet. Walking along trying to balance a plate as she reached under the sneeze guards to grab food wasn’t how she like to get her meal when dining out. The fancy food they made at the Stallion Restaurant didn’t fill her.
“The grill it is.”
They crossed the casino floor dodging people and slot machines. At the entrance to the Pony Bar and Grill, the hostess on duty smiled at Dela. “A table or booth?”
The tables were high, and while she liked sitting up high, they weren’t a good idea.
“Booth please.”
“We have one in the back of the room. It’s quieter there.” The hostess smiled at Quinn and led them to a booth in the corner. “Cherry will be right over with water and menus.”
Dela nodded at the woman and stayed seated at the edge of the booth while Quinn slid all the way in on his side. She reached over for the file and pulled it in front of her. “Did anything pop out at you about any of the people we’re going to talk to?”
Cherry arrived with two glasses of water, two menus, and a bubbly personality. “Hi! Can I get you anything to drink besides water?”
Quinn ordered iced tea. Dela asked for coffee. She would need to be fully awake when questioning the people tonight.
“I’ll be right back with your drinks and get your order,” Cherry said, before spinning around and bouncing back to the kitchen.
“I wish I had her energy,” Dela muttered and opened the file.
“You could have slept longer,” Quinn said.
She glanced up. He watched her with a softness in his gray-blue eyes that unnerved her. Dela dropped her gaze to the file. “This isn’t very much on Branson . He practically didn’t exist before three years ago.” She glanced up. “That’s suspicious.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Cherry returned with the drinks. “What would you like from the grill?”
Dela ordered a hamburger, thick fries, and a salad. Quinn went for a club sandwich and fries.
“Those will be out in a jiffy.” Cherry smiled at them both and flounced away.
“As far as I can tell, Jeff and our victim didn’t have anything in common other than they both work here.” Quinn sipped his tea.
“And this Luke Saxton. Did you find anything that connects him to Tristan?” Dela read through the sheet on him.
“No. The staff on duty tonight have orders to keep an eye on him if he comes in.” Quinn set his glass down and peered at Dela. “I don’t know how long this can stay quiet. Everyone at the casino knows there was a murder here last night. And from what we heard as we were out and about, so does everyone on the reservation. When do you think you’ll get a call from the board?”
“Either tonight or tomorrow morning for sure. That’s why I want to talk to as many people as we can tonight and see if we can piece anything together.” She leaned back as Cherry arrived with their food.
“Do you need anything else? More drinks? Ketchup? Ranch?”
“We’re good. Thanks.” Dela picked up a fry and savored the saltiness.
“Okay. Enjoy!”
“She is way too perky,” Quinn said, when the woman was out of hearing.
Dela chuckled. “Glad it wasn’t just me.”
They dug into their food, saying little until the last fry and crumb of bread were gone.
Dela was reading the information Quinn dug up on Verna, one of the surveillance staff. “This looks like what we have on file on Verna. I don’t understand why she didn’t notice the cameras out on ten last night.”
“That’s why we pull her in and talk to her. Find out why she was negligent.” Quinn shoved his plate to the center of the table. “What’s the plan?”
“We start with Jeff, move on to Verna, and when Van arrives, we talk to him. In the meantime, let’s visit with the guards and see if they noticed Tristan hanging around the casino after his day was done. There has to be a reason he has Jeff and Luke’s names in his book next to dollar amounts.” That thought had been in her head when her phone woke her. The victim had to hang out at the casino after his work hours to have run into the two men on his list that they had identified.
“That makes sense. We could have Marty check the floor footage from a week prior to the victim’s death and see if he was around here.” Quinn downed the last of his iced tea.
Dela knew one person besides the guards who would know if Tristan frequented the casino in the evenings. She grinned. Actually, two people who were very observant.
“What are you smiling about?” Quinn asked right before Cherry swooped in and picked up their plates.
“Would either of you like some dessert? We have a delicious brownie tower tonight.”
Dela didn’t quite hide her desire for the dessert.
“We’ll take one tower and two forks,” Quinn said. When Cherry left, he asked, “What is a brownie tower? I could tell by the way your eyes lit up it must be pretty good.”
“It’s a chocolate brownie, blondie, and chocolate chip cookie bar stacked up with vanilla ice cream in between layers and caramel drizzled over the top.” Her mouth watered thinking about it. A lot of calories when she wouldn’t have time to jog for several days. However, the sugar might give her some short spurt energy.
“I’m not much of a chocolate eater, but the blondie and caramel sauce sounds good.” Quinn leaned back as Cherry placed the tower of bar cookies in the middle of the table.
“Enjoy!” she said, placing the ticket at the end of the table.
Dela snagged the ticket.
“Hey, I invited you to dinner. Besides, I can call it an expense.” He plucked the paper from her hand and tucked it into an inside pocket of his suit.
She glared at him but cut a corner off the brownie and popped it into her mouth. There was nothing better to drown any fears, doubts, or apprehensions than chocolate.
Quinn worked on the blondie. “You were interrupted when you were going to tell me what you were smiling about.” He raised an eyebrow and peered at her with a bite on his fork.
“We happen to have two casino employees who know or see nearly everyone who comes into the casino. If it hadn’t been such a struggle for people their age to have received a college education, they would probably be scholars right now rather than working here.”
“And who are these two you’re talking about?”
“Rosie, at the coffee shop. She’s never met a male she didn’t like.” Dela loved how the woman made men uncomfortable by her forwardness. Dela could never be that forward. She could be bossy and knew how to motivate men and women, but the outright flirting Rosie did was something Dela enjoyed to watch and not participate in.
“I see. And this makes her scholarly how?” Quinn’s forehead under his light brown crew cut was furrowed.
“She can remember every face and name that goes with the face. Also, just about word for word what someone tells her.”
“And the other person?” Quinn asked, pulling another bite from the blondie and swirling it in the sauce.
“Arthur, the night valet. He sees everything and remembers everyone. He’s better than surveillance cameras.” She scooped up a bite of chocolate chip cookie and slipped it in her mouth.
“Trooper Hawke was impressed with him when we were working the human trafficking case. He always went to the valet to ask questions.” He picked at the blondie.
“Hawke understood where the people were who knew what was going on. He’s a good trooper. He should be a detective. I wonder why he hasn’t been promoted?” She pondered that. She would have loved to have visited with the Oregon State Trooper after he’d brought home two of their missing women and helped take down a human trafficking ring. But he and his friend, Dani Singer, an ex-air force pilot, left as soon as they’d finished eating spaghetti with Dela and his mom after Meela Skylark was returned home. While his mom, Mimi Shumack, had been calling her once a week with suggestions on places she could rent, she hadn’t thought to ask when her son would be back.
“He could easily be FBI material if he wasn’t in his fifties. But I also agree, they are missing out not making him a detective.” Quinn shoved the rest of the dessert over in front of her. “Finish that up, and I’ll go pay the bill.”
She nodded, trying not to let him see how happy it made her to finish off the tower of goodness.
Cherry swept by. “Would you like more coffee?” she asked, as she filled Dela’s cup.
“Actually, could you put this in a to-go cup? I need to get back to work.”
“Sure. I bet you are really busy since a body was found in the laundry chute.” The woman said it a bit too loud for Dela’s liking.
“Keep your voice down. This isn’t gossip to be spreading,” she said in a voice just above a whisper.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” The young woman didn’t act as if she’d been reprimanded as she hurried away from the booth.
It made Dela wonder if the waitress had been telling everyone she served about the body. That was all she needed, customers of the casino thinking they could be the next fatality.
Quinn sat back down on his side of the booth. This time he didn’t slide over and his foot hit her fake foot, jarring her leg.
Dela tried to hide a wince.
“All that chocolate getting to you?” he asked, studying her.
“Yeah, I think it was too much. I haven’t eaten a lot of sweets lately.” She swung her legs to the end of the booth to stand.
Cherry arrived with the to-go cup. “I just filled a cup. Have a good night.”
Dela took the cup from the waitress and stood, using the table to help her push to her feet. A glance at Quinn caught him with his brow furrowed again. She didn’t know what he was thinking about, but she wanted to get busy questioning people. “Come on. Let’s go talk to Jeff.”