"What would the police do?" Matt asked. "There is no proof. The men will deny threatening Mr. Morris. It would be his word against theirs. And, I doubt things will get better for him after they learn he has talked to the police."
I stood up and handed back the plain, tan sport coat. "There has to be something we can do. I'll talk to Fenton right away. Maybe you can get photographs of them doing what they just did?"
"People carry cash in Las Vegas, that's no crime," Matt pointed out.
I thought about the large wad the tall man had pulled from to buy my drink. "Oh my God, no wonder Fenton did not want me talking to that man. Of all the men in that bar, I managed to flirt with the one trying to strong-arm him into a throwing a fight. No wonder he hates me!"
"I think it’s possible that it’s the opposite of hate." He slipped back on the tan sport coat.
"I've got to go," I told him. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Smith."
I turned around at the arena door and was not surprised when the nondescript man was already gone. He never answered what kind of work he did for Fenton. For such an average looking man, he was incredibly good at his job.
I rushed back over to the Tropicana and into the dark bar. In the time it took for my eyes to adjust, I groped my way to the empty booth. Fenton was gone. There was nothing there but a large shoebox and a pair of custom-made shoes with his name on them.
"Back to throw yourself at him again?" Alice Meadows asked as she came up behind me.
"Couldn't get him to keep the shoes on?" I asked. "That can't be a good sign."
She snatched the shoes out of my hands. "He had them on and he liked them. We'll have Fenton Morris signed by the morning."
"You and Bethany always work in tandem. At least, that's what people like to say you do. I mean, I guess I can't judge the way you get your results because you definitely get results, I just don't know how you can do it," I said.
"Don't be such a prude, Kya," she said. "Just because we're women doesn't mean we're not allowed to enjoy sex and have it just for fun."
There was a lump in my throat and I swallowed hard. "Is that where Bethany is? Having fun?"
"Why? Would that bother you? Is the Country Club Princess falling for a blue collar fighter?" Alice asked.
"Ooo, did she admit it?" Bethany asked as she joined Alice in the booth and handed her a large drink with two umbrellas sticking out of the top. "I bet Alice you'd fall for Fenton Morris. They say opposite attract, right?"
I shook my head. "I don't have time for junior high gossip. Where is Fenton?"
Alice sipped her drink and shrugged. "Beats me. One minute he was slamming tequila, and the next, he was gone. I thought he'd gone off to find you. Way he was looking at you all night. What a waste."
"When did he leave?" I asked.
"About twenty minutes ago," Bethany said.
I ran for the door and straight out to the cabstand. I had to find Fenton before something bad happened.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kya
"Have you heard of the Ling Pho Lounge?" I asked the driver, as I jumped in to the waiting yellow taxi.
"I've heard enough to tell you I'm not taking you there, young lady," the driver said.
"Hey, I recognize you," I said. "You took me to the strip club the other night."
"And I'd rather take you back there than to the Ling Pho Lounge," he said. He pulled the cab out into traffic and drifted along, not committing to going in the direction I requested.
"A girl can't have a late night craving for Chinese food?" I clutched my purse with both hands and tried to sit still in the back of the cab.
"If that's the case, then I'll take you to my favorite place. Well-lit, crowded, full of locals, but the nice kind," he said. "It's just up the street, be there in five minutes."
"Thanks for the recommendation, but I would like you to take me to the Ling Pho Lounge."
"I gotta say it, I know it's not my place but I gotta say it." The cab driver gripped the steering wheel harder. "I don't like the company you're keeping. I saw you with that fighter the other day, the mixed martial one. He's got a bad reputation. You should hear the things I hear about him in this cab. What's a lady like you doing chasing around after him?"
I slumped back in the seat. "It's for work. I'm an endorsement agent and clients of ours want him for their next campaign."
"Plenty of other sports guys around town. There's a golf tournament going on next weekend. Lots of nice gentlemen, no tattoos."
I slumped even further. What was it about me that needed to be surrounded by nice men? I was not tough enough, independent enough, to stand up to the challenges Fenton threw at me. Everyone thought I was just a pretty face better off ensconced in a safe corner of the world.
Neon lights, crowds, and thousands of chances rushed by the window. This was Las Vegas. Every kind of person from ultra rich playboy to the openmouthed tourist to the calculating card shark was here – and so was I. I had had enough of well-to-do families from decent backgrounds and athletes that had talent, but no real fire.
Fenton was different. He had the talent, but it was fueled by an explosive need to succeed on his own. His background was rough, lonely, and hounding him at every turn. It was no wonder he had built up the reputation he did. It was one-half truth and one-half protection. No one looked too much farther than his wins and his wild behavior.
"Miss, I'm serious. This isn't the place you want to be. Just grab some Kung Pao to go. I'll wait," the cab driver said.
I got out and paid him through the window. "Thanks, but I might be a while."
Inside, the Ling Pho Lounge looked just as I had worried it would. The lighting was dim, not by design, but by neglect. Red walls and black, lacquered screens divided the round empty tables. The sounds of horseracing blared from a television in the kitchen and I could hear two people yelling at it in Mandarin. A half empty, neglected buffet glowed under heat lamps in the corner.
I pretended to peruse the menu on the wall and check my watch as if I was meeting someone. No one came to seat me. A pair of men came in and went down the back staircase without even looking around. I glanced back at the door. No, Fenton was being threatened and he did not need to face it alone. His whole career was at stake.
A wide man and a rail thin woman in a white fur coat came in next. They also headed down the back staircase, so I followed them. The man muttered something to the two big bouncers and they let the couple push through the heavy red vinyl doors. I stopped on the stairs, but it was too late, the bouncers had already seen me.
"Password?" the one on the left asked.
"You're kidding, my, ah, friend was supposed to meet me upstairs and he didn't say anything about a password," I said. I walked down the rest of the stairs and gave the imposing bouncers my best smile.
They both returned to staring halfway up the stairs, over my head. Muffled cheers broke out behind the heavy doors. What was Fenton into now? If the bouncers were ignoring me, then I would just wait for the next person to come by and listen for the password. I had to get to Fenton and tell him how to deal with the fight fixers. We could not go to the police, but I had a plan.