Cash Out by Marshall Thornton

Author:Marshall Thornton [Thornton, Marshall]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Gay / Lesbian / LGBT
Amazon: B08N4K3Q69
Goodreads: 55880206
Publisher: Kenmore Books
Published: 2020-12-24T23:00:00+00:00

A few minutes later, my mother called Detective Sergeant Brace Ryland. I had his card. Actually, we all had his card. He was quite forward about giving them out. Over the phone, he asked a few brief questions about where she’d been that morning then told her he’d be sending a squad car to bring her to the station. After she explained, I offered to go with her.

“No, I’ll be fine.” Then she said, “I need to call Cotton. I’m sure he’s worried.”

“He is,” I said. And that reminded me, “The woman with red-hair…”

“The homeless woman from the restaurant?”

“She left a message for me,” I said.

“She did? How did she—”

“We’re wondering if she might be Cotton’s ex-wife,” Louis said.

“Oh, no. I don’t think so. I mean, I’ve never met her, but I’m sure someone would have mentioned her hair being an odd color. Cotton described her as bland and unexciting.”

“Did you ask Cotton about the incident?”

“I did. He said she called him Billy and asked for five dollars. I scolded him for not giving it to her. I think it’s kind to give money to people like that even if they are sometimes con artists.”

There was a terrible look of doubt on her face. Cotton had probably lied to her. After a moment, she said, “Hmmmpfh. Well, I guess we’re going to have to figure out what’s going on.”

“We really shouldn’t get involved,” I said, though I’m not sure who I thought I was kidding. We were already deeply involved.

Kissing me on the cheek my mother said, “I’ve got to go. I’ll give the red-haired woman some thought.”

I doubted she’d be able to do that. I’d been questioned by Ryland; she was going to have to stay on her toes. As she was about to leave, she seemed to realize she couldn’t go into her suite to change.

“Well, I may need to borrow a few things later on,” she said, and walked out.

I looked at Marc and Louis and asked, “What should we do? Should we go down and see the Cottons?”

“Maybe we should give them their privacy for now,” Louis said.

“It’s nearly two o’clock,” Marc said. “I’m famished.”

“That’s it. We should go to lunch,” Louis said.

“I have my doggie bag from yesterday,” I said. I had half of my petite filet mignon in an aluminum foil duck and nearly half a loaf of the wonderful bread they served with the meal sitting in the suite’s mini-fridge. “I think I can make a sandwich.”

“You still have that?” Louis said. “We ate our leftovers as a midnight snack.”

“I was asleep way before then.”

“You haven’t gambled at all, have you?” Marc said. “And you’re barely eating. You must think Las Vegas is a horrible place.”

“It’s interesting,” I said. It was too loud, too bright, and people smoked anywhere and everywhere. Basically, it made me want to go home.

“All right then,” Louis said. “We’ll meet you in front of Fortune’s Forum at three for the backstage tour.”

After that, I went into my bedroom and did something I’m not proud of.

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