“No,” she said as she rummaged in her purse, “just the parking garage. Marco wouldn’t have driven a stolen Aston Martin out to dinner. Especially not one with two bullet holes in it. The Aston has to be parked somewhere in this town, and he’s probably keeping it close, where he can keep an eye on it. Where better than the parking garage of whatever hotel he’s doing his shady business in?”
I was still trying to make sense of that as she uncapped a tube of burgundy gloss and slathered a thick coat on her lips. When the cab pulled up in front of Caesars, I dug inside my wallet for mycredit card to pay the driver, but Vero beat me to it, feeding a couple of bills through the hole in the plexiglass shield as we both climbed out.
“Where’d you get the cash?” I asked. Both of our bank accounts were teetering on empty, and she hadn’t been quick to part with what little she had left.
“Took it from Steven’s wallet while he was checking the engine at the gas station. But don’t worry. There’s plenty more where that came from.” She waved a piece of plastic. “I got his credit card, too.”
“Give me that,” I said, too late, as Vero stuffed it back inside her pocket. Steven was already suspicious enough about Vero. We didn’t need to give him one more reason to report her to the cops.
She hoisted up her boobs and unzipped her hoodie to reveal her cleavage. Shaking her hair free of its ponytail, she fluffed out the waves as she strode to the valet lane.
One of the young men working there held out his hand for her keys. “What are you ladies driving tonight?”
“That all depends.” Vero held a folded twenty-dollar bill between two fingers, teasing him with a smile. She tipped her head toward the parking garage. “We have very specific tastes. If a girl wanted to get a ride in… say… an Aston Martin Superleggera, could she do something like that here?”
The valet arched a brow as she played with a lock of her hair. He checked around him to make sure no one was looking before pulling a key fob from his pocket. “Not tonight,” he said, waving the Porsche logo at her. “But there’s a smokin’ hot Carrera here for a few more hours if you ladies want to put some miles on it.”
The glint dimmed in his eyes when Vero started walking away.
“Wait!” he called after her. “I’ve got a ’Vette back there, too. Or how about a Jag. Or a Benz! That Benz is freakin’ gorgeous, and it’s got a back seat!” Vero kept walking. The valet groaned as she whistled for another taxi. “Seriously? Do you know how hard it is to find an Aston Martin in this town? Damnit,” he muttered as I started to follow her, “those assholes at the Villagio always get the hot ones.”
An hour later, Vero and I were in the parking garage of the Villagio, less than a thousand feet away from the Royal Flush. We crouched between two parked cars as an attractive valet strolled past us, twirling a set of keys on his finger. Vero’s hair was once again tied back in a messy ponytail, her sweatshirt zipped to her chin against the cold.
“We’ve searched the entire garage and my feet are killing me,” I said once the valet was out of earshot. “Why don’t you just sweet-talk the valet and ask him where the Aston is?”
“Because if the Astonisin this garage, then Marco probably has a reservation here. And if Marco has a reservation here, then Javi must be here, too. By now, Marco could be finished with his dinner and be back in his room, and I don’t want him to get wind of the fact that we’re here looking for him.”
Vero and I waited for the valet to leave before creeping through the next row of parked cars. The brash yellow garage lights reflected off a line of BMWs, Mercedes, and Volvos. “Hey,” I said, pausing behind a blue Audi. “Isn’t this the same car that Marco’s snoop was driving?” It was the same model and color as the one we’d chased away from Ramón’s shop.
Vero’s eyes went wide as she peered into the tinted windows. “Check your phone. You took a picture of the guy’s license plate that night.”
I opened my camera app. The last photo I’d taken had been during our high-speed chase, right before Marco’s spy had fired his gun at us and we’d careened into a ditch. I held the blurry image between us, squinting at the letters and numbers.
“It’s him! This has to be where they’re keeping Javi.” Vero’s hands balled into fists as she started toward the hotel.
“Where are you going?” I asked, scrambling to keep up. “The front desk isn’t just going to tell us which room a guest is staying in. They have rules about that kind of thing.”
Vero’s laugh was dark. “I hate to break it to you, Finn, but youand I stopped worrying about the rules the night we buried Harris Mickler.”
Vero looked like vengeance personified as she stormed toward the front desk. I held her back by the shoulders and lowered my voice. “I think this will go better if we take a deep breath and remember to use our words.”
“I’d rather use my fists.” She darted looks around me at the faces in the lobby, searching for Marco’s. There was murder in her eyes. She was in no state for diplomacy.
“Just… stay here and let me handle this.” I deposited her into a wingback chair with firm instructions to wait for me. I strolled slowly to the counter. The woman behind it greeted me with a smile.
“May I help you?” she asked.
“I hope so,” I said sweetly. “I was backing out of my space in the parking garage, and I accidentally bumped into the car parked behind me. I’m so embarrassed. I was going to leave a note, but I thought it might be easier to call the vehicle’s owner and exchange insurance information. If I give you the license plate number, would you mind looking it up for me to see who it belongs to?”
“Sure,” the woman said, taking down the number. She typed it into her computer and studied the screen. “The owner of the vehicle is visiting a guest in one of our suites. Would you like me to call the room for you?”
“That would be lovely.” I rested my elbows on the counter, my gaze drifting down to the clerk’s hand as she dialed the suite number. After a prolonged pause, she frowned. “I’m sorry, no one’s answering. If you’d like to leave a note, I’d be happy to have it delivered to his room.”
“That won’t be necessary,” I said, backing away from the desk. “I’ll just leave one on his windshield. Thank you for your help.”
Vero leaped up from her chair as soon as I returned. “What did she say?”
“I think I found Marco’s suite, but no one’s answering in his room.”
