Read Nobody Dies in a Casino for Free Online Page B

love him anymore,” Richard said, taking Charlie’s other elbow and squeezing hard. “Hi, I’m Richard Morse. Of Congdon and Morse? Charlie works for me.”
    â€œI never loved him. I still like him as much as I ever did.” I just don’t know what to say to him.
    â€œBradone McKinley.” She reached across Charlie to shake his hand, and he had to let go of Charlie’s elbow to take it. “Have you two had breakfast?”
    â€œYes,” Charlie said.
    â€œNo,” Richard said, and actually bowed. “But allow me the pleasure.”
    â€œAllow me the pleasure?” Charlie stared at him, but he ignored her.
    So did Bradone. “No, I insist. You must come up to the penthouse.”
    *   *   *
    The penthouse put Richard’s pseudo-Tudor mansion in Beverly Hills to shame. Marble columns, a butler and a cook.
    â€œI’d heard about these,” Richard whispered. Poor Richard, he only had a suite. And they’d come up on a totally different elevator. “These are only for the mega–high rollers. What’s she doing playing down in the casino with the riffraff? And blackjack to boot?”
    The butler, Reed, poured them coffee. The cook, Brent, was off in the less formal regions, preparing something Bradone claimed would amaze them. They were already amazed. And they were from Hollywood. Bradone was off either making or taking a telephone call.
    â€œYou mean there’s more than one of these penthouses?”
    â€œOh yeah, three anyway.” Richard sat, visibly deflated, on the edge of a billowy couch like he was afraid it would consume him if he relaxed. “You got—what?—eight acres of pool and tennis and putting range deck down there, there’s gotta be a lotta here up here.” This was the same man who’d said, “Allow me the pleasure”?
    Charlie should have enjoyed his discomfort. Instead, she felt sorry for him.
    Why? He puts you down every chance he gets.
    â€œRichard? I have a problem. I need help.”
    â€œ You have a problem?” He snorted and gestured to the walls of window that looked out on Vegas and beyond. “Look at this. What chance I got with this woman?”
    â€œRichard, Georgette Millrose fired me yesterday. And I witnessed a murder the night before. And I’m fairly sure it had something to do with a cop dying in a hit-and-run later that night. I’m worried the killers might think I have the same information the cop did. All I know is what the guys who committed the first murder—which the cops still think was an accident—look like. And I saw one of them here at the hotel.”
    â€œWell, it probably was an accident. Charlie, you don’t want to get involved in murder in this town. And has Millrose ever made the New York Times best-seller list? After all these years? You’re better off without her, and so is Congdon and Morse. Just help me figure out what to do about my problem.” He gestured around the room again.
    â€œEvan Black was involved with the first murder victim and he’s acting very funny about the whole deal.”
    â€œCharlie, babe, I’ll back you on the Millrose thing to the hilt. But we both know Black is bucks. You know? What have I taught you?”
    â€œBack off Black?”
    â€œGood girl.” He patted her knee and sat up straight as their hostess entered with Reed, the butler, and the amazing breakfast.

CHAPTER 6
    C HARLIE G REENE TOOK a cab to Yolie’s to take Evan Black to lunch, certain he wouldn’t be there. She was determined to enjoy her lunch anyway, to put off going to the police—she never had much luck with them somehow—and to get the taste of the amazing breakfast out of her mouth. It had come in a glass with a long spoon and looked, smelled, and tasted like yak curds. Not that Charlie had ever tasted yak curds, but she knew.
    Yolie’s smelled of mesquite, cilantro,