Cars were coming and going on South Rainbow Boulevard in front of our office, not many of them abiding by the speed limit. It was a typical hot September day in Sin City. Kids were back in school, a sure sign the year was marching toward its end.
“T.K. Springs.” It was a woman’s voice, which surprised me for no reason in particular.
“Ms. Springs, it’s Jagger Hansen from Sparks Bail Bonds. I’m calling about Maria Ramirez’s case. Do you have a minute to talk?”
She cleared her throat. “I just found out this morning that Ms. Ramirez is deceased. I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss her case. Attorney-client privilege extends postmortem under Nevada law.”
“Okay, uh, are you aware that Maria’s son was taken by his father, Pedro Vega, likely back to Mexico. Maria’s aunt, Rita, said she had no choice but to let Pedro take him. Were you representing Maria in the custody matter?”
It was easy to see that Ms. Springs was one to go by the letter of the law, though not the spirit if something nefarious had happened to Maria. When she was quiet for a moment, I could tell my information was new to her.
“Uh, Mr. Hansen, I’d prefer to have this conversation in person. Are you available for coffee? Say, five this afternoon. There’s a coffee shop near the Clark County Courthouse on South Casino. Will you meet me there?”
I’d expected a reminder that she couldn’t answer my questions, so the attorney offering to meet with me was an odd turn of events.
“Sure.”
She gave me the address, and we ended the call. I checked my watch to see that it was three o’clock. I needed to go pick up Dixie and take her to my place before five.
I walked over to Fitz’s desk and tapped his shoulder. He glanced up and pulled an earbud down, staring at me.
“I need to run to pick up Dixie at the groomers. Will you answer the phones until I get back?”
“Sure. Where’s Denise?” Fitz lowered his feet and folded his paper.
“She’s at lunch. She should be back to lock up the office at the end of the day. I’ve got an appointment downtown at five, and I need to take Dixie to my house first. I’m watching her while Sparky, Monty, and Hardy are in Florida. I’ll drop by and check on things here before I go downtown. If you get a call from CCDC for bail, call me. I’ll break my appointment.”
“Nah. Go on. I’ll be here until Sawyer gets off at six, so run your errands. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’ll explain it to you after I have more information.” I intended to do that very thing after talking with Ms. Springs. It wasn’t like I had a lot going on.
“Dixie, girl, welcome to my home. You hang out here for a while, and I’ll be back.”
I picked her up at the groomer and took her for a walk in my neighborhood after figuring out how to get those bootie things on her feet. The sidewalks were literally hot enough to fry an egg. Her paws would blister without them, and I didn’t want to be blamed.
It was ninety-nine degrees outside, and there was no wind to flutter the palms lining South Sorrel Road. Even I had caved and turned on the air conditioning in the truck—not for me, but for Dixie.
No doubt in my mind that if my nieces and nephew knew I had Dixie at the house, they’d make Rob and Kaleb bring them to Vegas, even though my brothers and I weren’t close. I’d love to see them again, but that old fear in my gut had me keeping my distance. I couldn’t stand to hear them say they never wanted me around their kids.
“Here’s your water. I’ll get your dinner when I get back. Hold down the fort.”
I walked into the living room where I’d set up her bed and turned on the television, lowering the volume to cover up neighborhood noises that might freak her out.
Sparky had left a basket with the necessities for her to be comfortable at the groomers for me, along with a detailed list of instructions that Hardy must have typed out. One of the entries was Loves to cuddle. I was grateful they’d thought about it, but I didn’t see myself cuddling with Dixie, though I’d cuddle with Bailey, who would probably cuddle with Dixie.
Once I was sure Dixie was settled, I headed out. The traffic gods were on my side, so I got to the downtown area much faster than I anticipated.
The coffee and juice café, Lucky’s Spot, was next to an open-air parking lot that had several spots available, so I pulled in, paid for parking on my phone, and headed to Lucky’s.
I saw a familiar face heading into the café ahead of me, so I hung back a bit, letting two customers go ahead of me so I could get a better look at everyone inside without being noticed. When the man ordered his drink and gave his name, it wasn’t Boyd for sure. The fading bruises told me the guy had to be Danny Bolls.
Damn, the guy looks exactly like Boyd Newton.
I could see how it would be hard to tell them apart, which was what Bailey kept saying. I told myself I’d text him later. If it was somewhere Bolls frequented, it would be a good place for us to find him when Bailey came back to town.
“Are you Jagger Hansen?” I turned to my left to see a tall, slender woman with bright-red hair.
“I am. How’d you know?”
