Ultimate Concealer, A Toni Diamond Mystery: A Toni Diamond Mystery (Toni Diamond Mysteries) (14 page)

One man seemed to watch with more interest than the others, as though he might be thinking of joining the game. She sidled up to him. “Excuse me,” she said. “Where do I buy chips?”

He pointed to the side of the casino where a counter ran along the wall. It looked like a bank with a series of tellers inside secure booths. “Thank you,” she said. “Do you know what denomination the blue chips are?”

“Blue’s five hundred bucks. But you can play at this table for five bucks. Better to start there,” he said kindly. “Those chips are the white ones.”

“I will. Thanks again.” She walked away wondering what Dwayne was doing with ten grand worth of Wentworth casino chips. And why playing them had landed her mother in hot water.

Maybe she’d seen too many gangster movies, but before she got into the elevator that would take her to security and, she suspected, far from the glittery chandeliers and prettily dressed gamblers, she pulled out her cell phone and called Luke.

“Hey, pretty lady, what’s up?”

In spite of her stress and worry, she felt a smile tilt her lips. “You miss me.”

“I do not. I can watch football without someone asking me every five minutes who has the ball.”

“Oh, so unfair. I don’t care who has the ball. I always want to know when it will be over.”

“Too true.” He sighed. “I’m guessing you didn’t call me to talk about football.”

“No. Things are so bad here I actually wish I was sitting in front of a big screen with you watching a game I don’t like and don’t understand.”

“That bad, huh?” And for Luke, that was like sending the mushiest sympathy greeting card ever written and imprinted with purple flowers.

“My mom’s been nabbed at the casino for gambling with stolen chips.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah. I suspect she got the chips from Dwayne.” She wanted to be tough and sassy but right now she felt a little bit wobbly. Like her stilettos were too high and she was about to fall flat on her face.

“Which casino?”

“The Wentworth.”

“The Wentworth?” He sounded stunned. “They’ll have state-of-the-art surveillance and top-of-the-line anti-theft programs. What kind of moron steals from the Wentworth?”

She sighed. “I believe I mentioned my ex-husband Dwayne Diamond may have been involved.”

“What do you need?”

“You see? That’s what I like about you. You’re not warm and fuzzy, but you give practical help.”

“Warm and fuzzy is for teddy bears. You need brass balls to get out of this jam.”

“I don’t have—”

“Sure you do. Well, brass ovaries anyway.”

“You really think I do?”

“Honey, you could sell cosmetics to the Amish.”

She knew he was making a joke, but personally, she’d always thought the Amish would be happier with cosmetics. The women would look so much prettier, and the men could take advantage of the men’s skin care line. But now wasn’t the time to get into that. “Okay, here’s what I need. If you don’t hear back from me in an hour, you know I’m being held at the Wentworth.”

“Copy.”

“It’s not funny, Luke. Seriously, I’m worried.”

“I doubt they’ll take this to the cops. Your mom’s not exactly a big threat. Play nice, tell them you’ll never do it again and get the hell out of there.”

“Okay. And if you don’t hear from me in an hour?”

“I’ll get hold of my buddy in Vegas. He’ll get you out.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah. And if he doesn’t I’ll be on the next plane to take care of it myself.”

“You don’t have jurisdiction.”

“I have a vested interest in a certain pushy Lady Bianca saleswoman.”

“How vested?”

He chuckled, low in his throat. “When you get back to Texas, I’ll show you.”

She smiled. Even though her world felt as though it was falling to pieces, Luke still made her smile. “Deal.”

The smile made it past the blackjack tables and a couple of craps tables, to a dark-suited man with a badge on. “Excuse me. I’d like to go to security, please.”

He stared at her as though this was the White House and she’d asked to see the President.

“What’s your business with security?” He was polite, but unsmiling.

How to phrase this? “My mother’s up there. I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”

He pulled out a cell phone. “Name?”

“Toni Diamond. My mother is Linda Plotnik.”

He spoke in a low voice to someone and then said, “Come with me.” He led her to an elevator at the back of the room and they stepped into it. It shot up and then the door opened. As she stepped out, she got a sense that in entering the security zone she was entering another world.

Confidence, she reminded herself as scary guy deposited her at a reception desk where a young woman who could probably break every bone in her body with an eyelash said, “Can I help you?”

If you truly believe you’ll get what you want you’re more likely to succeed, she reminded herself. She looked the woman in the eye, exuding confidence. “Yes. I’m looking for Linda Plotnik.”

It was eerily like her visit with Dwayne earlier in the day. Once more she was shown to an airless, awful room that smelled like fear and smashed dreams. There was a desk, a phone, a couple of cheap office chairs. Not so much as a photograph on the walls or a potted plant brightened the atmosphere.

Her mother wasn’t there, but a tough looking bald guy came in right behind her. He looked like all his body’s resources went into building so much muscle that there was no energy left for anything as frivolous as hair.

“Your mom’s in a heap of trouble,” he said, looming over her and looking sinister.

It was funny. She’d been so nervous on her way here but now that she stood in front of a guy who looked like he should be in a cage, her nerves were steady. She said, “So will you be if you don’t release her immediately.”

“Linda Plotnik was gambling with stolen chips.”

She held her expression steady with an effort, but inside she was cursing Dwayne all over again. Stolen casino chips? What had he got himself involved in? “My mother had no idea. Those chips were given to her.”

His eyes were cold and nasty. “Who gave her the chips?”

“I don’t know.” Little white lie number two in less than twenty minutes. “But my mother is no thief.”

“They all say that.”

“I doubt it.”

“Think you’re pretty tough.”

“No. I think that legally you can’t do anything. You haven’t called the police, so I suspect you have nothing but a suspicious chip that somehow came into my mother’s possession.”

He leaned back, regarded her with something closer to respect. “Okay, you won’t be bullied. I like that.”

“Thank you.”

“Here’s the thing, Ms. Diamond. When people steal our chips, we don’t like it. It’s bad for our business, bad for our honest clients and bad for the reputation of Las Vegas.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“If we can get the name or names of the people who gave your mother the stolen chips, we could probably let her go, with a ban on ever playing here at the Wentworth again, of course.”

“How many chips were stolen?”

“Ms. Diamond, please.” He folded his arms over his massive chest.

“If I was able to return, let’s say, ten grand worth of chips, do you think you could forget my mother was ever here?”

He stared at her out of eyes so cold a blue they ought to freeze over. Then gestured to her handbag. “Why don’t you hand me over that nice bag, Ms. Diamond?”

“Have you never heard that a woman’s handbag is one of her most private possessions?”

His smile was lizard-like. “Not when you’re in my office.”

“Well, I’m not giving it to you. You have absolutely no right to—”

“I’ve always preferred taking what I want.” And he reached out and grabbed her bag.

She gave a cry of outrage as he snatched her beloved bright pink Kate Spade. To wrestle the man would not only be undignified but since he weighed about two hundred pounds more than she did and looked like he took part in extreme fighting when he was bored, she gave in.

He upturned her bag and out spilled her wallet, her cell phone, her diamond-encrusted eyeglass case, her notebook and pen, her makeup bag (the small one, for touch-ups) and a blue bag with no discernible purpose. He sent her a smug glance of triumph. “Now where would a nice lady like you hide stolen casino chips?” he asked as he reached for the blue bag.

She compressed her lips and then instantly relaxed them. She wasn’t going to inflict premature wrinkles around her mouth for him. He unzipped the bag and turned it upside down. A cascade of Lady Bianca sample packs spilled onto the desk. “What the hell?”

“Sample packs of this season’s Lady Bianca cosmetic line,” she told him sweetly. “Please, help yourself.”

With a scowl he went after her makeup bag. Out tumbled her mascara, a small eye shadow compact, lipstick, lip gloss and lip liner, a small tube of blemish concealer and a slightly larger one of foundation. Face powder, blush, and a small spray bottle of Evian. He sprayed and sniffed at the resulting puff of moisture droplets.

“Evian. It’s excellent for fighting dehydration of the complexion. You should get some. The casino air is very drying.”

He put down the spray bottle with unnecessary force and shook out the rest of her bag. A couple of loose quarters fell out, a pack of tissues and a roll of mints. A discreet pouch that contained two tampons. He opened the pouch. Scowled. Shut it.

He glared at her. “Where are the chips?”

She glared right back. “Where is my mother?”

Chapter Thirteen

“Good people do not need laws to tell them to act responsibly, while bad people will find a way around the laws.”

— Plato.

The standoff continued for thirty unnerving seconds. Finally, he made a growl like a cornered grizzly — or Tiffany when she didn’t get her way, and stomped out of the small office. She rose and gathered her belongings back into her bag then sat back down and waited, hoping she looked much calmer than she felt.

In a very short period of time, the door opened again and the thug pushed Linda into the room. “Oh, Toni,” her mother cried. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea those chips were stolen.”

She hugged her mother, who was so distraught one of hair extensions had come loose and she hadn’t noticed. It hung from her head like an animal tail. “It’s okay, Mom. Did they treat you okay?”

Her mother’s eyes went squinty. “If you call getting grabbed off the casino floor like a criminal and yelled at and threatened good treatment, then they treated me like a queen.”

She squeezed her mother’s shoulder. “Ready to go?”

“An hour ago.”

“Okay.” She turned to the security guy who stood blocking the door out of there. “I will return the chips if you tell me exactly what you know of the theft. And, naturally, there will be no further unpleasantness toward my mother.”

He glared some more. She glared back some more.

“Wait here.”

Like they had a choice. He disappeared and in a couple of minutes more, a different man entered. A man different in every way. He wore a decent suit, flashed a smile so dazzling you could use the reflection to apply eyeliner, and smelled like expensive cologne.

“Ladies,” he said, as he walked in on shiny loafers. “I understand you have information that could help us restore some stolen property.” He walked forward, shook hands first with Toni, then Linda. “I’m Nathan Chisolm, head of security here at the Wentworth.” He glanced around the grim room as though he’d never seen it before. “Please, come into my office.”

He led the way and as they followed, Linda whispered, “Good cop, bad cop?”

Toni glanced back and nodded. But bad cop had also boosted them up the chain of command. Besides, she liked Nathan Chisolm’s manners much better. His office was down the hall and around a corner. It was large and well furnished, seeming to belong to the Wentworth. He gestured to a round glass table with half a dozen comfy chairs gathered round it. “Please, have a seat.”

Toni and her mother sat side by side and he settled himself opposite them. His smile grew even larger as he regarded them. Like he was about to offer them a great deal on a used car. “All right. I understand there was an unfortunate misunderstanding on the floor, Ms. Plotnik. Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

Before her mother could say anything, Toni put a hand on her mother’s arm and said, “My mother was given those chips. She had no idea they were stolen. I believe I know where more of them are located, but first I want some information about the theft.”

The smile dimmed slightly. “And why would you want that?”

Toni could do the fake smile as well as anybody and she matched Nathan Chisolm in joviality. “I am assisting the police in another matter, but I believe there might be a connection.” She was throwing wildly but hoped very much that the mention of cops would have him more amenable to her deal. She hadn’t missed the fact that no one had mentioned turning her mother — or the stolen chips — over to the authorities.