“To what do I owe the honor of your presence?” His smile was more than warm. When the smile widened she could swear several of the pearly whites twinkled like a toothpaste commercial. William Borden Junior was one of the owners of the River Queen Casino and resembled a young Robert Redford. Sam had met him during a previous case involving a homicide in the casino. He sandwiched her hand between his two, then kissed the top.
Sam slowly slid her hand from his. “Always the charmer.” Although Sam conveyed a bit of standoffishness, she had taken great care in dressing this morning. Her black boots hit above the knee. Cable-stitch black tights showed off the curve of her legs under a blue and black tunic top that hit mid-thigh. No banana clip today. Her hair was wild and carefree in a controlled way. It took time to get her natural curly hair tamed.
“I wanted to ask you about a former employee, Nina Logesta.”
William winced. “Sad. What kind of information do you need?” He sat behind his desk and pressed the intercom. A sexy voice oozed through the phone. “Maxie, can you bring me the personnel file on Nina Logesta. She’ll be in the archives.” William punched the phone off.
Sam imagined his secretary to be a leggy model, probably blonde, wearing something that showed off a lot of cleavage.
“I also ordered some snacks for us.” He stood and motioned toward the conference table where two covered silver trays had been placed.
Sam had to admit she was getting tired of eating. “I trust you aren’t on a yogurt kick.”
“I remember you have a sweet tooth, Sam.” He joined her at the table as there was a knock on the door. Maxie entered and Sam gave herself a mental pat on the back. Maxie was everything she imagined.
“Thanks, Maxie.” Once she left, Junior lifted the lids on the trays to reveal melons and strawberries on one and croissants and pastries on another.
Sam thought it was only polite to eat since he went through all the trouble. She wasn’t sure what to eat first. She stabbed at the melon, grapes and strawberries. Then selected small cream puffs in the shape of swans, a brownie, and an éclair. Across the table Junior was grinning. “Sorry. Guess I’m being a bit of a pig.” Diet be damned. The babies are hungry.
“I love a woman with a healthy appetite.”
Sam opened the personnel file and read while they ate in silence. Nina had been hired as a change girl. When the casino went the way of slot machines spitting out paper vouchers vs money, Nina took dealer classes the casino offered and became one of their best poker dealers.
“What does debt risk mean?” Sam noticed all Junior did was drink coffee while she was shoving down cream puffs like they were M & Ms. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and willed her hands not to reach for another bite of food.
“Nina was one of our whales. She was a high-roller here for a couple years. Played only high stakes baccarat. When she was on a winning streak she could hit us big. But when she got on a losing streak, she just kept going down until she was into us for a considerable amount of money. She lost her house, her marriage and her job at a law firm.”
“And you allowed her to work here?”
“Her way of paying us back. We have done it a number of times. Gives the person an income and we withhold a portion each week as her repayment of debt. She turned out to be one of our best dealers.”
“How long ago was she divorced?” Sam studied Nina’s picture. She had been attractive in a Meg Ryan sort of way, more girl next door. Blonde with brown eyes and a small scar above her eyebrow.
“Not long after she started gambling here. I usually don’t involve myself with the hiring part of the business but the debt risks I do. I need to find out exactly what kind of person I’m putting behind the bankrolls. As long as they make it to work every day, show an effort to do the best job possible, and adhere to the requirement to attend gamblers anonymous, then they are fine in my book.”
“She was going to gamblers anonymous?” This surprised Sam. She thought the police report said her money problem was the reason for her suicide.
“Yes. And she had been clean for two years. Hadn’t set foot in any of the casinos.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Her sponsor gave us monthly reports.” Junior flipped through the pages, then unclipped a business card and handed it to Sam. “That’s his name. Jason Biersman.”
“Did Nina get along with everyone here?” Sam wrote down Jason’s name and phone number, then handed the card back to Junior.
“That I don’t know. Unless I see a complaint or a write up of incidences, I would have no way of knowing. And as you can see from her file, she hasn’t had any such write-ups.”
Sam thanked him for the information and the food and left. Ten minutes later she was seated in her car in the casino parking lot re-reading the investigator’s report. Nina had shared an apartment with Fiona Vasquez, another employee of Jasper and Kinard law firm. When she called the firm she was told Fiona had called in sick. Good. Sam would rather talk to her at home.
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Fiona’s apartment was in the large party complex on the west side of town. The Meadows boasted five buildings with four hundred apartments and a large recreation center available for rent by tenants. The police log was filled with reports of rowdiness, gun shots, suspected drug sales, fights, and domestic abuse. It was party central on weekends.
When interviewed, Fiona claimed that Nina had stolen money from her to support her gambling addiction. They had fought and Fiona had kicked her out. Yet Nina had never cleaned out her clothes or other belongings. All of the furniture belonged to Fiona so Nina only had clothes and a few personal items.
Sam checked the address on the side of the building. From the outside the Meadows looked like a nice place to live. Considerable money had been spent on landscaping. Several workers were busy planting yellow and purple mums around the entrances and what looked to be the rec building. She had expected to see screens hanging from the windows but they weren’t. Doors weren’t hanging by their hinges nor were there overflowing garbage bins or bicycles left lying on the lawn. Graffiti was non-existent.
Sam had no reason not to believe Junior about his employee. After all, she spent more time at the casino than she did in her apartment, so why did Fiona give the investigator a different story? Could Nina have hidden her addiction that well, especially when she worked in a business where all kinds of money could be hers for the taking?
Apartment 401B was on the fourth floor. Sam found an elevator but decided to take the stairs and work off all of the cream puffs. By the third floor she was kicking herself for not taking the elevator. By taking the stairs Sam was able to see that the interior of the building wasn’t as pristine as the exterior. Carpeting was worn and the walls marred as though movers weren’t careful when carrying furniture. Rather than painting entire walls, it appeared that only patchwork was done. Baseboards were chipped and hallways didn’t appear to be vacuumed on a daily basis.
Sam found the apartment and put her ear to the door. Silence. She rapped several times. A door creaked behind her and Sam turned to find a gray-haired woman peering out, her hair up in rollers. The door quickly closed. Sam knocked again, a little louder and a little longer this time.
“Who the hell are you?”
Sam turned to see a dark-haired woman in skin tight running slacks and a halter top charging off the elevator. She was sweating as though she had just biked a five-mile marathon. “Fiona Vasquez?”
“Who wants to know?”
So this is how it’s going to be, Sam thought. Wonderful. Sam held out her business card. Fiona glanced at it and flicked her gaze back to Sam.
“What’s this about?”
“Can we talk inside?”
“No. Here is fine. I don’t plan on you being here long.”
“Nina Logesta. What can you tell me about her?”
“She was a lying bitch and she’s dead. What else do you want to know?”
Sam wondered how Nina lived with her as long as she did. “You told the police Nina still had a gambling problem but that isn’t what my contact at the casino tells me nor does her sponsor concur.” Sam hadn’t called the sponsor yet but doubted he would counter what he had already reported to Junior.
Fiona narrowed her eyes so much Sam thought she had fallen asleep. “What is this about? Nina’s been gone for a year already. I don’t have anything more to say.” She pulled her keys from a small pocket on the front of her pants and aimed it for the lock.
The outfit Fiona wore would make even Jackie drool. It was high end as were the running shoes. There was a diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist and three gold rings on her fingers. Sam was beginning to draw a pretty good picture. “So if I talk to your landlord he will confirm that Nina was the one in arrears for rent?”
“What the hell are you accusing me of?”
“Where are all of Nina’s belongings? Did you keep her cell phone?”
“Goodwill got the clothes and the cell phone was out of contract. I have nothing more to say so get lost.” The key was in the lock and the door slammed before Sam could even utter another word. She stood staring at the door when she heard the apartment door behind her squeak open and a “pssst” sound. Sam turned to see the head of rollers. The woman motioned for Sam to come in.
Nothing like nosy neighbors to give you the full scoop. “Nina was a very nice young lady,” Flo said as she poured two cups of coffee. Sam didn’t think she could fit another ounce of anything in her stomach but to be polite she had said yes to the coffee. The rollers in Flo’s head were a hard green plastic and looked painful to sleep in. The room was doilies and afghans, everything you might expect in an elderly woman’s apartment. The only thing missing…Sam no sooner thought it then a burly tabby cat came prancing around the corner, took one look at Sam, lifted its nose as though catching a scent of Poco, then scurried out of the room. “I sprained my ankle one year and Nina would call me from work and ask if I needed anything from the store. She’d do my shopping. Never made me feel like I was imposing.”
“You wouldn’t happen to still have her phone number, would you?” Sam was hoping Beast could do some magic with just the phone number and not need the SIM card.
“Why yes.” Flo rummaged around in the top drawer of an antique secretary and pulled out an address book. “Here we go.” Flo read off the number and Sam wrote it on a notepad.
“Why would Nina room with Fiona if they didn’t get along?”
“Oh, they were the best of friends. Both were receptionists at that law firm. Nina had already been divorced. She told me all about her addiction, was pretty open with her past. But their problems started when Fiona’s boyfriend dumped her for Nina. Being the considerate friend that she was, Nina didn’t want anything to do with him because it hurt Fiona. But Fiona still blamed Nina for the breakup.” Flo set a cloth bag on her lap and proceeded to take the green rollers out of her hair. Sam winced as she saw the Velcro pulling on strands of gray hair.
“Would Nina have told you if she had started gambling again?”
“Absolutely. She was so proud of herself that she was clean for two whole years. Did you see how Fiona dresses? She tries to live like a princess on a pauper’s salary. Nina paid her share of rent like clockwork. I told her she should give her share directly to the managing office but the lease was in Fiona’s name so the check had to come from Fiona. Nina of course had given Fiona cash but Fiona spent the rent money on god knows what.”
“How does Fiona afford the rent by herself?”
Flo stopped torturing her hair and glared at Sam with a knowing smile creasing her lips. “Let’s just say there are a selection of men coming and going through that apartment at all hours of the night and day. If you found her home today it’s not because she’s sick. She told me before she is just one sugar daddy away from moving into a dream condo on Chicago’s lakefront. Right, and I’m one curtsy away from Buckingham Palace.”