Lucky Charm in Las Vegas: A Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Mysteries Book 13) by A.R. Winters

Author:A.R. Winters [Winters, A.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-30T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Ian and I drove over to Charleston Heights, where Brad's laundromat was. As I drove, I kept an eye out for anyone who might be following me, but I didn't see anything suspicious.

Sunset Laundry was in a large strip mall, next to a seedy looking bar that promised cheap drinks and video poker. The other establishments included a McDonalds, a Mexican food place, a hair salon, and a tax accountant.

The laundromat was tinier inside than it looked from the outside. There was a bench where customers could sit and wait, and at least five washers and dryers. A machine dispensed washing powder, and there was a countertop designed for folding clothes.

Everything was coin-operated, and there was a tiny desk near the back of the room, next to a door that I assumed led to the back office.

Two men were at the desk, talking to each other in hushed tones. I wondered if they might be Brad and Chris—one of the men was sitting behind the desk and he wouldn't do that if he wasn’t an employee or an owner of the place.

The sole patron of the place, a large muscular man with a gray, chest-length beard and multiple tattoos was loading his clothes into a machine. We waited ‘til he was done and had walked out of the laundromat, and then Ian and I headed over to the two men who were watching us with mild disinterest.

“You can get change at the bar next door,” one of the men said. He was short, and slightly chubby, with close-cropped blond hair. The man next to him had the tall, lithe body of a dancer, and straight, jet black hair.

“We don't need change,” I said. “We’re trying to talk to the owners, Brad and Chris.”

The short man I'd been talking to eyed us warily, and the tall man said, “You found them. I'm Chris, and this is Brad.”

I looked carefully at Chris. There was a hard, suspicious edge to his voice, and I wondered if he thought Ian and I were trying to sell something.

“Ian and I are private investigators,” I said. “We've been hired to look into Charlene's death.”

Chris’s eyes grew cold, and he pressed his lips together.

“We're not talking to you,” Brad said quickly. His face had turned red, and he glared at us and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I'm very sorry for your loss,” I said to Brad. “It must be terrible, losing a sister you were so close with growing up.”

“Get out.”

This time, it was Chris who had spoken. His words were icy, and while Brad looked like he might explode at any moment, Chris seemed calm but full of hatred.

“We’d just like a few minutes,” I tried again. “We know how much Brad loved his sister, and we've been hired to pull out all the stops to find out who did this.”

“We're not talking to you,” Brad repeated. “If you're not here to wash your clothes, you need to get out.”

Ian and I exchanged a glance.

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