Viva Lost Vegas by Melanie Jackson

Author:Melanie Jackson [Jackson, Melanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, cookie429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781456581374
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2011-01-24T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Gretchen found her voice, but it didn’t help me much. She hadn’t lost a master key and no one else was reporting losses either, so there went the obvious solution.

Though Alex wouldn’t like it when I told him, I did rounds with Gretchen. I wasn’t technically searching rooms and I wasn’t alone either. Gretchen didn’t question why I did the rooms with her, accepting my help with making beds and laying out towels in the second floor with touching gratitude, not even complaining about my humming Highway Patrol while I worked. I learned that Maria had the third floor this week where Heroin, Jailhouse and BB had rooms and where I really wanted to search. However, Maria was smarter than Gretchen and would probably wonder why I was helping. She might even say something to the manager.

I wanted to take Blue with me on our rounds but that would have been a bit conspicuous, and I don’t suppose that Blue could actually sniff out sequins if they were hidden somewhere clever. It’s just that I feel a lot safer when Blue is with me.

Convinced by afternoon that I didn’t even want to work as a maid, I went back to our room around one and asked Alex what he had found with his brand of snooping.

Alex wasn’t alone. Hawaii was there in a chair next to Alex with Blue’s head resting on his knee. His presence in the room suggested that we had been checked out and approved as good guys. Blue’s position said that she approved of him as well.

“Oh sharper than a serpent’s tooth,” I began, but Blue jumped up and came to me with tail wagging at full force. We hugged and vocalized, and only then did I ask the boys what they had found so far.

“I am so glad I never had the urge to go on stage. The critics are vicious. And the people who write in to these social sites are often worse,” Alex said and started reading the hateful drivel out loud. A few paragraphs and I’d heard enough.

One of Elvis’ reviews suggested he was the King of Idiots rather than the King of Rock-n-Roll— and he had won that competition! Heroin, BB, Living Dead, Millennium, they had all been excoriated. One review of Jailhouse in an Arizona paper was positively racist. Even Elder Elvis caught flak from supposed Christians that thought the former minister was going to burn in Hell for turning his back on Jesus.

“Judge not lest ye be judged— but that never stops anyone, does it?” Hawaii said.

“I’m afraid our Elvis spent some time in a hospital for the poor and delusional as a guest of the state”, Alex said.

“Which state?” I asked.

“California.”

“Maybe the weather was nice.”

“That would have been the only nice thing.”

I nodded agreement with Alex. The poor don’t get sent to nice places.

“What about Archie Mobley?” I didn’t have a nickname for him. Should I call him Has-been Elvis? No, I decided. That was too mean. It was also unnecessary because he wasn’t one of the Elvises.

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