Who Killed Chrissy?: The True Crime Memoir of a Pittsburgh girl's Unsolved Murder in Las Vegas by Simcic Beverly

Author:Simcic, Beverly [Simcic, Beverly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beverly Simcic
Published: 2012-10-21T22:00:00+00:00

FIVE: THE PRIZE FIGHTER

“Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives.”

–Richard Bach

I wake up early out of habit. Being a single mom has many disadvantages, and one of them is that there is no one else to share the wakeup call in the morning with your child.

You are it. It becomes habit.

Chris, on the other hand, is a late sleeper. So I’m quiet while making my coffee this morning, because I sense she’s not getting up early—but I’m wrong.

She is already in the bathroom having a shower as I come back in from the patio with my coffee, and then she’s getting dressed. She’s putting on the white professional masseuse outfit that she purchased, and she’s packing up lotions and oils in a case that looks like something masseuses might use in their trade. I had completely forgotten about the tickets from the fight promoters.

She’s ready to leave and the sight of her in all white with her hair slicked back in a tight bun was a shock to me. Once she put on her glasses she looked exactly like someone who would be working in a health club with a professional clientele, and I’m impressed.

She heads for the door with her carrying case and mumbles on the way out, “I might see you later on at the pool.”

Yesterday’s craziness is forgotten. I’m going to do some laundry and then Larry and Kathy are picking me up to go to some different casinos to hit the slot machines. It’s all starting to become mundane to me, and I’m feeling somewhat bored—like maybe it’s time to go home. There is only so much you can do in Vegas if you don’t have money for shows, dinners and tourism. I am not the tourist type in any sense of the word.

During lunch Chris explodes through the front door of the apartment and she is all smiles. Looking up from my tuna sandwich, I felt happy for her already, “Hey, how’d it go over there?”

She starts throwing off her uniform and unpacking the masseuse case and talking at the same time, “Oh, it was wonderful. In fact, it was fabulous. Steve is the epitome of polite gentleman with class, and funny, too—so funny—so funny! He was impressed with my knowledge of deep tissue massage, and we talked and talked about sports, mainly boxing of course, and he’s just the greatest guy—he tipped me a hundred bucks and told me to call him when I open my health club here, and he’ll see if he can recommend some clients.”

“You’re opening a health club?” I said almost choking on my sandwich.

“Yes, that’s my plan,” she said, a bottle of lotion in each hand. “I met this guy at the health food store in the plaza the other day when I went shopping for my uniform. He’s looking for a partner, so we’re talking about it. I don’t really know where it’s going right now, but I’m making my own plans, too.

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