Unknown - 23_Cat_In_A_Vegas_Gold_Vendetta

Midnight Louie would bring the house down if he knew his former lady friends were being neglected. Even as she thought of Louie, a lean, wiry form came barreling across the treat-sprinkled countertops—not Louie, for sure.

“Captain Jack!” Savannah welcomed the ferret as it raced up her arm and into the purse’s big outer pocket, its tail vanishing last, just as it did a U-y and the masked little face reappeared over the pocket edge.

Captain Jack seemed very pleased with himself.

Temple and Savannah threaded their way back to the living room, hearing Violet on the cell phone that rested on a small square pillow by her right shoulder.

Jayden bent over the dining-room buffet table, lighting an incense stick that looked and smelled like the cinnamon ones people sometimes put in hot drinks. Temple couldn’t help thinking that even a pot smell would be better than the odor of cat boxes. And she wouldn’t put it past Jayden to give some of that to Violet. That would sure not make for clearheaded will signing. Nevada was not California. Medical marijuana wasn’t legal, but it was easy to import.

“No, Briana.” Violet was on the phone, her light, frail voice strained to sound emphatic. “You can’t have my full-length Russian sable coat no matter how much you whine. What a thing to think of at a time like this—not me, but what I have that you want! That coat is far older than you are, not suitable for a young girl. Besides, I’m still alive. I might wear it in my casket. So there, you greedy little girl. I don’t care that you’re my grandniece. You didn’t care that I was your great-aunt until I got sick. Go away.”

Violet’s thin hand clutched the phone. She seemed unaware that she could click it off. Briana’s whining voice escalated until even Temple could hear it. She walked over and gently slipped the phone from Violet’s fingers, shutting it off.

“She’s gone now,” she told the sick woman.

Violet’s heavy-lidded eyes barely followed Temple’s gestures, instead staring into her face. “You’ve got some red-gold in your hair, like I used to. Would you like my sable coat?”

“What a lovely thought, but you keep it.”

“Can you believe the nerve of my grandniece? She acts as if I was dying.” Her focus became fierce. “I’m going to be fine. Jayden said so. Emeralds and amethysts will see me through.” Her giggle was faint but harsh. “Briana and her parents can go to hell! Father Hell’s magnets all under my mattress will shrink the cancer. Sue Anna…”

Savannah sighed with gusto and clicked over to the bed.

“I did leave you your two precious Persians and a few thousand for pin money,” Violet told Savannah. “Maybe I’ll even give you my sable coat, although it doesn’t go with your bleached-slut hair color.”

“It’s a custom salon tint, Auntie. ‘Vegas Gold.’ Only Rolf at Hair Carousel can do it. It’s the quintessence of all the glitz and lights on the Strip.”

“You are the quintessence of stupidity, niece, with that thin résumé of what you call a ‘career.’ Meanwhile, you keep coming to feed the cats, do you hear me? Jayden has better things to do, and Pedro … Pedro went away.”

Temple was taken aback by Violet’s swift mood changes. She knew the sick can be difficult—heck, give her a stomach flu and watch her moan and whine—but Violet displayed a vengeful, mean streak. Maybe that was why she’d had a rift with her daughter before Alex died so tragically.

Hers not to judge a life she knew so little about. Already she was feeling sorry for Savannah, and that was a major change of heart.

The two visitors walked out of the door, stood in the sunshine, and breathed deeply together, as if sharing the end of an exercise class. The wall of stuffy, fecal odor behind them still wafted past.

“She’s my aunt,” Savannah said with a grimace. “I don’t like her sister and two brothers any more than she does. Luckily, they live in Alaska and are not about to pressure her on the will from more than long-distance calls she can refuse, like her bratty, spoiled grandniece. If they showed up, they’d have to do some things for her, and they’re not the tending type. I guess I’m not either, but I’m here, and I have no stake in any so-called fortune.”

“Do you have any idea what that is?”

“The house is old, but the land is good. She probably has mutual funds, life insurance. With the antiques and household goods, I’m guessing two hundred thousand. Not peanuts, and enough for someone greedy to covet. I can’t say it wouldn’t help me out, but I know the family rifts go back to her and siblings, and she somehow managed to drive Alexandra away, too. I’ve got nothing to gain here but grief, but I am here. What are you gonna do?”

“You’re right. She’s alienated the very people who might have had her good at heart. So she’s been left vulnerable, and the vultures are gathering.”

“So what are you gonna do?”

“Investigate Jayden, number one.”

“That’s all?”

“Uh, check with my police contacts on Pedro’s death.”

“Police contacts—wow. You gonna call your blond hottie in on the case?”

“He’s out of town.”

“You get outta town! You wouldn’t let that guy loose on his own in some other city with other women, would you?”

“Other cities are full of other women, and so is Vegas. I trust him implicitly.”

“That a relative of explicitly?”

The wink of Savannah’s false-eyelashed eye indicated she’d understood Temple’s phrase perfectly. Maybe she wasn’t as dumb as she looked and acted. They were almost at the curb, about to split for their respective red and Vegas Gold convertibles (another appalling sign of sisterhood), when a guy in pseudocamos ambled up the walk.

“Miss Ashleigh,” he greeted them, surprised, and giving Temple a bright, alert, Captain Jack look, only with blue eyes. “How’s she doing today?”

“Off and on, as usual, Rowdy,” Savannah answered, relaxing as she hadn’t when Jayden was around. “The guru has got her in his grip.”

Rowdy shook his buzz-cut head. “Losing Alex kinda unbalanced her. It’s not nature, a daughter passing on before a mother, and now Violet’s dyin’ and still denyin’.”

Temple needed to put in a sympathetic word, even though the necessary introduction really killed her.

“Hi, I’m Savannah’s friend, Temple.” Moving on. “Her aunt’s situation is so sad … Rowdy. Oh, that’s right. I remember. Savannah said you were with Alexandra in Tucson six years ago when she died so tragically. And now you’re here?”

He winced. “Came up to Vegas to look after the old lady for Lexi, truth to tell. She and her mother had one of those spats that was hard on both of them. I was lost to have Lexi taken from me like that. She didn’t die right away. They didn’t know what killed her right away. I guess Miss Ashleigh told you.”

“Horrible, horrible thing,” Temple said with full sincerity. “Who would kill people randomly like that? Pointless.”

“Yeah. Even serial killers at least have their crazy logic. I was kinda … at loose ends after Lexi died. I work construction, and until a couple years ago Vegas was booming, so it made sense to move from Arizona up here. I drove the cats up for Violet, but she never warmed to me whether Lexi was alive or dead. I kept an eye on her anyway. Helped Pedro outside. She never tumbled to the fact that I was concerned about her. But I lost my most significant person, too, when Alexandra died.”

Savannah swayed from sole to sole on her painfully high heels while Captain Jack’s little head followed the conversation.

“I know, Rowdy,” Savannah said. “Alexandra was a beautiful girl. To die in her twenties of something so random…”