Grand Openings and Greed in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 32) by A.R. Winters

Author:A.R. Winters [Winters, A.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-12-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“How suspicious is that, huh?” Ian asked excitedly, jabbing his finger in the air in front of him after the two women.

“Not very? We know what Dr. Linton said.”

“But look at them! They’re sneaking off. What if they’re all in on it and Linton lied about those pills? What if they were really poisonous? We should have made him take one, Tiff, to make sure.”

While force-feeding suspect pills to a doctor wouldn’t have been my preferred course of action, Ian did have a point. Linton had been very convincing, but perhaps that’s exactly what he was good at: convincing people. He was a doctor of psychiatry after all. Maybe he’d used tricks of the mind on us to believe him. He hadn’t actually given us any proof whatsoever, beyond what he’d told us. The only thing that changed between us entering and leaving his office had been the words he’d spoken.

That didn’t mean Ian was right.

But it did mean a little further investigation into Valerie wasn’t a terrible idea, either.

Valerie and Mary slipped into the small marquee that Montoya had been using to rest in before he died. They pulled open the door flap, went inside, and closed it behind them.

This small marquee stood alone near the now-empty stage. A forlorn white outpost, away from the hustle and bustle of the various stalls and all the action until the stage came back into use for the announcement of the winners of the Best Stew Competition.

The good thing about the flimsy marquees was that they were not at all soundproof. Ian and I simply walked over and stood by the side wall of the marquee and, quite literally, listened in.

We stood quietly, heads pressed up near the thick material of the side of the marquee. From inside came the sound of sobbing.

“Let it out, Val. Let it out. You can’t keep that face on all day.”

“I… should… be able to,” Valerie answered between sniffs.

“We don’t need to do that, Val. If you need to cry, cry. Let it out.”

There was a long sniff, and then Valerie blew her nose. “There. I’m done.”

“Good girl, Val.”

Bridget perked her head at me. Was that someone else being called a good girl? Bridget almost seemed to frown. That sobriquet was hers alone as far as she was concerned.

“I still can’t believe he’s gone. Just through there, he was. He looked as surprised as I must have when I realized he had passed. I can’t believe he’d just die like that. How could he do that to me?”

“So thoughtless of him,” Mary said. “I’d tell him off for you if I could.”

Valerie half laughed and half sniffed. “I know you would. It just seems so sudden. I know he was old, but still…”

“I know Val, I know.” Mary’s words were descending into meaningless comfort, just noise to make Valerie better rather than with the intent to communicate. I was sorely tempted to leave and resolved to give it just another minute or so. We were intruding on grief, not learning valuable information.

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