I spot Meg by the bar with her dark hair twisted into a bird’s nest, her pale blue eyes sirening out at us rung in copious amounts of black kohl. She’s got on a skintight black mesh top, ripped up black jeans, and has on her signature combat boots that seem somehow necessary in a testosterone warzone like this.
“What’s up, chicas?” she asks as she pulls me into a warm embrace. “Let me guess, they threw the book at Mr. Sexy and you’ve come to organize a going away party? I can arrange for a half a dozen girls to come to your house if you want to surprise him. What the heck, I’ll give you the good guy special.”
“I’m not laughing.” I smack my lips at my younger, not funny in the least sister.
Carlotta cocks a brow. “How much are we talking? Mr. Sexy needs a pick-me-up on his last night of freedom and Lot might need a few pinch-hitters to help get her through the night.”
“Everett’s not going to prison.” The words speed out of me.
Carlotta winks over at Meg. “Entertaining her delusions is fun. But you might want to stop by the house tomorrow night. In fact, order up a half a dozen male dancers and bring ’em along with you. We’re gonna need to cheer her up and you know she’s got a weakness for a side of beef in a banana hammock. If we keep that up for the next fifteen years, she might not even notice he’s gone.”
Meg laughs so hard it sounds as if she’s choking on air.
“She’s not wrong, Lot,” she wheezes. “Besides, you’ll have Noah to pinch-hit for Everett. I guess it was a good idea for you to keep a spare around after all.”
“Take us to the casino,” I demand and she does just that.
Red Satin is truly a conglomerate of shady enterprises. There are actually a half a dozen or so dicey businesses that take place in the underground region. I’m only aware of a handful of places—the casino, the finance department, and the skeezy sex club, but I wouldn’t rule out an entire illegal universe taking place down here that leads straight to middle earth. The Canellis have more money than should be legal—and most likely is not, so building an entire subterranean empire seemed like the right thing to do.
Soon, we’re engulfed with an entire infantry of one-arm bandit slot machines going off all at once, spinning, twirling, whirling, and doing their best to burst our eardrums as if a nonstop fire alarm were going off.
The sound of a rooster crowing to my right snags my attention to the exact suspect I came hoping to see, and I smack Carlotta on the arm.
“There he is!” I squeal with excitement. “We can quickly question him, meet with Jimmy and Luke, and get Everett his dinner before it ever gets cold.”
“Don’t forget the pit stop at the bakery. You don’t want to lie to Sexy, do you?”
“You’re gunning for a few free cream puffs, aren’t you?”
“This diaper isn’t going to fill itself.”
Meg grimaces. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“She’s kidding,” I shoot Carlotta a look. “She’s about as funny as you are, Meg.”
My sister takes a cautious step away from Carlotta. “I’m taking off in a few minutes, but I’ll see you both at the taping this Friday. I bet on both Noah and Everett, so either way I come out a winner.”
Carlotta ticks her head. “The pool is growing. You’re going to be a rich woman either way, Meg.”
“Cha-ching!” Meg pretends to shoot me before doing a disappearing act.
“Would you stop with the pool?” I hiss over at Carlotta.
“Don’t worry, Lot. I’ll make sure you get a piece of the pie. People are loving it. I started a new pool last week. Let’s just say a lot of people are interested in what happens to Sexy tomorrow.”
“You are deplorable.”
“Aw, thanks, Lot. And since you look just like me, I guess you’re deplorable, too. So is Lyla Nell now that she’s got some meat on her bones.”
“Deplorable and adorable do not mean the same thing,” I say as I crane my neck to get a better look at Burt Walker, and sure enough, Cluck Norris has planted himself right on top of our suspect’s head. Not sure why that’s his preferred position, but I’m guessing it’s his way of asserting his dominance. He is a cocky rooster after all.
Burt sits staring vacantly at a one-armed bandit, just tossing in coin after coin as if it were a robotic move on his part, and I’m betting it is. He’s wearing a suit that looks a touch baggy on him as if he’s lost weight recently. His long face and droopy eyes are focused completely on the task in front of him—losing his money. At least he’s a willing participant in this robbery.
“The seats are empty on either side of him,” I whisper. “You know what to do.”
“You shank him. I’ll steal his money.”
“No, not that. Take a seat on his left. We’re going to grill him into tomorrow. Woody mentioned that Candace had a thing for him.”
“Candace had a thing for him?” Her brows hike a notch as if suddenly she has a thing for him, too. “I bet she couldn’t land a man like that. Randy Candy never had what it took to get the job done. A man like that needs a real woman. Watch and learn, Lot.”
Carlotta and I quickly land ourselves on either side of the poor man. Even if he is the killer, I feel bad for the guy, considering Carlotta just put her target on his back.
“Spot me some cheese, would you, good looking?” She holds a hand out his way as if that is ever going to work.
“Well hello, beautiful.” Burt is quick to part with more than a few shiny quarters—or pieces of cheddar as it were.
Go figure.
It’s Carlotta’s cheesy world, and the rest of us are just living in it.
“Hey, Burt?” I say, hiking my voice to the right level of surprise. “Fancy meeting you here. It’s me, Lottie Lemon. We’re taping the paternity episode this Friday.”
He blinks my way. “How about that. Excuse the cheesy line that follows, but what are a couple of nice girls like you doing in a place like this?”
“Not cheesy at all.” I laugh as I lean in his way. “And word to the wise”—I say, pointing to Carlotta—“she likes cheese.”
“Lot’s sister works here,” Carlotta says, getting right to work dumping in coin after coin into the hungry machine.
Cluck Norris crows, “Lottie, why are all these whirly gigs herded in such a confined area, and can I free them?”
Perfect. We’ve got a real free-range advocate on our hands.
Hey? If Everett does go to prison, maybe Cluck Norris could free him? We’d have to spend the rest of our lives on the lam, but I hear Starry Falls, which is just a hop and a skip away, is a popular destination for folks on the run.
I shake my head at him. “These machines can’t fend for themselves.”
Burt bounces with a laugh. “That’s why I’m here. Just doing my part, feeding the metal pigeons.”
“A collection of metal fowl?” Cluck Norris pecks at one of the machines. “Interesting. I guess I really did live a sheltered life on the farm. Some of those ponies were furious with me at the fairgrounds the other day. They accused me of being a natural movement elitist. Can you imagine? A creature that prefers confinement?”