The Case of The Erratic Elvis in Las Vegas: A Humorous Tiffany Black Mystery (Tiffany Black Cases Book 20) by A.R. Winters

Author:A.R. Winters [Winters, A.R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

We talked over eggs and bacon and waffles. And coffee and pancakes and orange juice. And toast and butter and jam. Just the essentials.

Max was sitting uncomfortably opposite Rosie and me in a diner booth, and he felt like he was in an interrogation. That’s because he was in an interrogation. With Rosie and me on his case, he stood no chance of squirming out of it now. I’d been suspicious since the first moment Rosie mentioned him, but finally she was seeing how weird his behavior had been as well.

“You showed up out of the blue with nowhere to stay and no idea how long you were staying,” I started.

“And then you dodged all of boss’s questions about your plans,” Rosie continued, “and then you really didn’t like the television cameras in your face.”

“Are you on the run?” I asked.

“Because if you are…” Rosie said, her eyebrows pushed together in a very stern look. She sucked in a deep breath. “…that is very cool. What’d you do?”

It was not cool!

“I didn’t do anything!” Max said. “I swear, I didn’t. I just had some… bad luck recently.”

“What kind of bad luck?” I asked. “It’s sure got you jumpy.”

Max’s eyes kept flicking out of the diner windows. He was keeping watch for someone or something. And it wasn’t ceiling guys.

“Or maybe it’s my imagination,” Max said. “Can I just tell you guys what happened? And then maybe you can tell me. I might just be jumpy.”

“Go ahead,” I said, waving a piece of toast in the air. “Spill the story and we’ll judge.”

“And we’re very lenient judges,” Rosie said. “So don’t worry about a thing.”

“Okay, so, I’ve got—had—this colleague at work, Jimmy. A few weeks ago, Jimmy went out for lunch as usual, only when he was coming back to the office he got hit by an SUV. A big, black one.”

“Ouch,” I said. “Accident? Hit and run?”

“Hit and run, yes,” Max said. “Accident? I don’t know. You be the judge in a moment. So, he was hit by this giant car on the street at lunchtime, but the weird thing was, even though the accident was caught on camera, the driver and the vehicle weren’t identified or found. The plates were visible, but when the police ran them, they were fake. Or rather, they were real plates, but they had been stolen the day before from some dinky compact car owned by an old lady just over the state border. They weren’t the right plates. And the windows were all tinted, so they had no idea who was driving it.”

“Poor Jimmy,” Rosie said. “And he died?”

“Yes. No. Yes and no. Not yet. He was taken to the hospital, and they operated on him. He was pretty beat up. A broken hip, some broken ribs, a wrist, some internal… stuff. They did a lot of work putting him back together. He was due to be in the hospital a long time, probably a month, maybe longer.”

“How awful,” I said, wincing in sympathetic pain for poor Jimmy.

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