Vanity, Vengeance And A Weekend In Vegas Part 15
I smiled slightly at that and did as he suggested. "Thank you...but I won't be back."
"I don't believe that for a second."
I didn't know how to respond so I simply turned and walked out.
The front gate opened for me automatically and I spotted a town car parked at the end of the block. Mary Ann got out of the back and waved me over.
"I was just about to call the police," she admitted once I got within hearing range.
"I'm glad you didn't." I climbed into the backseat to find that Marcus was there too. Mary Ann got in beside me and asked the driver to take us to the Encore as I turned to him.
"I thought you were at Puppetry Of The p.e.n.i.s with Leah and Dena."
"I was but I left after five minutes...and those five minutes will give me five years of nightmares. Your sister seemed to be enjoying it."
"You're joking, right?"
"Oh you think that's odd? Because I think it's odd that you would go to the private residence of a possible murderer."
"But I always go to the homes of possible murderers," I pointed out. "It's kinda my thing."
"Marcus tracked me down at the Hotel Noir," Mary Ann explained.
Marcus held up Dena's iPad. "I borrowed this and I've been using it to do some research on your new friend," he said. "Do you have any idea who you were just talking to?"
"Of course I know. I was talking to Alex Kinsky."
"Yes, Alex Kinsky...general manager of The Hotel Noir, well known philanthropist and half brother to a woman who legally changed her name from Fedora to Fawn."
I froze in my seat and Mary Ann grabbed my arm, squeezing it so hard I actually winced.
"Ewwy Fawn?" Mary Ann asked.
"The Fawn who called me collect from prison to tell me that Anatoly was married? That Fawn?" I added before Mary Ann chimed in again.
"The Fawn who slept with my creepy ex-boyfriend...back when he was still my boyfriend and not so creepy?"
Marcus nodded. "That's the one...but honey," he locked eyes with Mary Ann, "that boy was always creepy."
"Are you sure it's the same person?" My voice was shaking now.
"Sweetie, how many convicted felons do you know named Fawn?"
"But what does it mean?" I whispered.
"It means he's f.u.c.king with you." His eyes dropped to my outfit. "Two tanks on top of each other?" he asked with traces of horror coloring his tone. "Two tanks that aren't even well color-blocked? And that top tank has a hole in it! Dear G.o.d, Sophie, what did those drugs do to your brain? You've forgotten how to layer!"
"I know how to layer," I snapped. I pulled up one of the tanks to show him how the other was too sheer for my bra. "This is why I'm wearing two mismatched tanks!"
"Right," Marcus said slowly. "Obviously you couldn't wear a shirt that showed the outline of your bra because n.o.body dresses promiscuously in Vegas."
"This isn't that kind of vacation," I retorted.
"No, this is a working vacation. Spend an afternoon or two at a s.e.x toy trade show and then put in a few hours toward defeating the mafia. Why didn't you match your tank to your bra if it was a problem for you...wait, are those new shorts too?"
"Alex bought them for me."
"They're lovely," Mary Ann said distractedly. Her mind was clearly still on Fawn.
"It's Marc by Marc Jacobs."
Marcus looked at me blankly. "Sophie, this isn't the red carpet. I didn't ask you who you were wearing. I just want to know why you're wearing it."
"Well, um..." I ran my hands over the tan silk of the shorts "I actually tore my clothes while trying to break into Alex's backyard."
Marcus's mouth dropped open.
"But it's okay, he didn't mind!"
"He didn't mind your trying to break in," he repeated flatly.
"Not so much. He bought me this outfit to replace my clothes...although he then insinuated that I should repay him with s.e.xual favors."
Marcus balked. "For bridge-wear?"
"I know!" I threw my hands up in disgust.
"Did you at least learn anything useful?"
"As a matter of fact, I did. Alex tells me that the Russian mafia thinks Anatoly helped an FBI agent infiltrate their operations."
Marcus took a while to digest this. "If he has to go into Witness Protection he should tell them not to relocate him to Wyoming. He'll stand out in Wyoming."
"He also knows that Anatoly has some incriminating evidence that could get the top people in this particular mob family into a lot of trouble."
"Minnesota might not be that bad," Mary Ann speculated. "They have the Mall Of America. I've always wanted to see that."
"It won't come to that. Alex says Anatoly has proof of some of the mob's illegal activity. That evidence is Anatoly's protection...a.s.suming Alex is telling me the truth."
"Which is doubtful considering his family's track record," Marcus reminded me.
"Yeah," I admitted softly. I shifted my position so that I could look out the window at the starless sky. If Alex was on the up and up why hadn't he mentioned Fawn?
But then again, I hadn't mentioned Fawn either. I had barely given her a second thought since she called to tell me Anatoly was married. Was she even relevant at this point in the game?
"He gave me more than information and a new outfit," I whispered.
"What else did he give you?" Marcus asked. "A migraine?"
I glanced up at the driver. He seemed to be completely uninterested in us as he tapped his fingers in time to the Top 40 tune playing on the radio. I took a deep breath and opened my bag so my friends could see the gun. They gasped simultaneously and I snapped my purse shut.
No one said anything for the rest of the ride to the Encore. When we arrived I paid the driver (picking up the tab was the least I could do) and we all piled out of the car. Marcus dragged me to the fountain with Mary Ann close on our heels. I noticed that his jaw was set and his shoulders were tense. For a full minute we all just stood there, Mary Ann and I looking at Marcus expectantly. But he just stared silently at the fountain as it shot up toward the heavens like an aquatic version of the northern lights.
"Why do you think he gave you that, Sophie?" he finally asked, his voice icy and controlled.
"Because he wants me to be able to protect myself," I said. "What other reason could there be?"
"Do you know if that gun has been recently used?" he asked. "Like maybe on someone named Tanya? Do you think that maybe the reason Alex booked a room under your name and gave you that gun is because he's helping his sister get revenge?"
The question froze me in place. I tried to come up with a reason his theory was ridiculous. I couldn't.
Now I was the one staring at the fountain. It really did remind me of a smaller version of the northern lights and the building behind it looked like it was made of solid gold. But it wasn't. It was an illusion. Nothing in this town was what it seemed to be. It was designed to entrance. Its goal was to make you throw caution to the wind. It wanted you to lose track of your own common sense.
"I'll get rid of the gun," I whispered.
"Where?" Marcus snapped. "You can't just throw it in a trash can."
"She could bury it in the desert?" Mary Ann suggested. "In those mobster movies they're always burying things in the Vegas desert."
"There you go then," I said hopefully. "I'll...I'll bury it in the desert first thing tomorrow."
"Tomorrow might be too late," Marcus pointed out. "As far as you know the police might be coming for you right now."
With effort I swallowed down my rising panic. "I don't think Alex wants to draw the police's attention to this whole thing any more than I do. If he's setting me up he's setting me up so that he can point the finger at me if and when things go sour, and we have no reason to believe that's going to happen tonight. Tomorrow we'll figure out what to do with the gun. One step at a time."
Marcus tapped the tip of his shoe against the pavement. "Anatoly...your hot little Russkie? He drugged you."
"Yes, he did."
I could see little stray drops of water from the fountain settle onto Marcus' hair. "He lied to you too, Sophie."
"I know," I said softly.
"You're risking that adorable little neck of yours for an a.s.shole."
"I am," I admitted. The fountain was now a blur as the wind played with the carefully structured pattern of the water. "But here's the thing...he's my a.s.shole."
"Is this about ownership?" Marcus asked incredulously, "Or is it about love?"
"It's about love," I whispered. "Marcus I...I love my a.s.shole, okay? I love him so much."
"That's almost as romantic as it is disturbing," Marcus sighed. "So I guess we'll just focus on the basics. Try to find Anatoly, try not to get implicated in any crime and try not to die."
I bit my lower lip. One of those things should have sounded easy.
CHAPTER 14.
"I rarely play by the rules. Unfortunately the rules I break most frequently are the ones I set up for myself."
--Death Of The Party We got back to the hotel room right around the same time Dena and Leah were returning from Puppetry Of The p.e.n.i.s. Leah had apparently been traumatized and had gone directly to her room. The rest of us were in Dena and Marcus' room. Dena had bags full of goodies from the trade show and she and I were sorting through them while Marcus continued to Google information on Dena's iPad. I hadn't owned up to going to Alex's house but we did tell her about what Marcus had found out. Once Marcus got to the part about Alex being Fawn's brother Dena got up and left the rest of the sorting to me.
"Okay," Marcus said, a vodka tonic in one hand and the iPad in another, "here's the results of the forty dollar background check. Fawny-Dearest changed her name four years ago and she has one half-brother, Alexander Kinsky. Then there's a list of a whole bunch of people she may or may not have a connection to...people with crazy names like Inno...Innokenty? Whatever, that part's not all that reliable but she's definitely Alex's sister."
"Maybe she's estranged from him?" I offered. "Maybe that's why he never showed up at her trial."
"I think it's possible," Mary Ann said.
"If I had a sister like Fawn I wouldn't want anything to do with her," Dena whispered. She was leaning her weight against the desk and staring out at a night that had been made grey by the neon lights of the strip.
Marcus turned to me. "Do you really think it's a coincidence that you met Alex a week after his sister called to tell you about Anatoly? Seriously?"
"Maybe Fawn wanted out of the mafia world and she cut off contact with Alex because he wouldn't get out too," I offered. I examined a package of dog-bone shaped paperclips that Dena had in one of her bags. "I don't get it. What's dirty about these?"
Dena walked back over to me and put one of the paperclips on the strap of my MacBook carrying case. When in use the "bone" looked a h.e.l.l of a lot like an erect p.e.n.i.s with two b.a.l.l.s. Dena shrugged unenthusiastically and went back to the window. "What part of the mafia do you think Fawn objected to?" she asked. "She's in jail for attempted murder so obviously it wasn't the violence."
"Maybe she didn't like working with other people?" Mary Ann offered. "She does seem to have some social issues."
"Yeah," Dena replied, "maybe she just didn't like the corporate culture. She's an individualist. Like Ayn Rand with a Quentin Tarantino edge."
"Oh come on, guys. So they share a parent, that doesn't automatically make them coconspirators."
Marcus was studying me intently but I couldn't figure out what he was thinking so I plowed ahead.
"He wasn't at the trial. When she was arrested, no one posted her bail. She had to go with a public defender because she couldn't afford a lawyer. Does that sound like a woman who has a close relationship with her wealthy brother?"
Marcus was still staring at me. "You like him."
The comment was just shocking enough to shut me up. Both Dena and Mary Ann froze in place.
"I what?"
"You like him. You don't want him to be in league with Fawn..."
"Of course I don't want him to be in league with Fawn! He's offering to help me-"
"Yeah, but you're p.i.s.sed at Anatoly. And what better way to get back at him then-"
"There is no way Sophie would ever even think of touching Fawn's brother," Dena said, her voice as cold as ice.
"Of course not!" Mary Ann crossed her arms over her chest. "Sophie is madly in love with Anatoly!"
"All right," Marcus said, holding up his hands in a request for calm. "I'm not implying that you're going to sleep with him, but you're not looking at this objectively-"