“Better than nothing. Let’s go.”
She did not want to go. She very much wanted to stay here forever. She could survive for a while, there was water in here. Bags of it, not bottles, because plastic could degrade. Her dad hadn’t been a full-blown prepper, but he’d always been prepared with a plan B.
Naveen put the phone in his pocket, then picked up the quilt that was folded neatly on the couch and draped it over the chest.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying not to make this too obvious, in case someone comes here after us.”
“There’s nothing valuable in there.” She cocked her head. “But either way, you think draping a quilt over it is going to hide it?”
“It’s what I do in my car to hide my laptop. Throw a jacket over it.”
She nearly shuddered. She’d seen him do that once firsthand, and it had taken every fiber in her being not to lecture him. A briefcase-size lump in the back seat of a Tesla in San Francisco? It was like a beacon to thieves. “About that, actually.”
“I know, I know.” He shrugged. “It’s for peace of mind more than anything.”
Peace of mind. Ha. What was that?
Chapter Seven
Downtown Las Vegas had gotten gentrified in the years since Mira had been there, but the duplex they were standing in front of had not. Mira knocked, and stood back, expecting nothing. It was foolish to think Emi would still be at this address after what, four, five years?
She stuck her hand in the pocket of her dad’s jacket and fingered the lighter, oddly comforted by the object, though why, she wasn’t sure. Not like her dad had been a comforting figure.
Naveen tensed next to her and she followed his gaze to the boarded-up fifties hotel across the street, its former glory stripped away like the busted neon sign in front of it. A pickup truck sat in the parking lot, and she took a step closer to him. She noticed his hand drop to the pocket of his jacket and she drew a harsh breath in. “Are you carrying the gun?” she whispered. She’d nearly forgotten about the weapon in their possession. The one they’d fired. Correction, the one she had fired.
Don’t think about it. Not now.
He didn’t even look at her. The driver’s side door of the truck opened, and a man stepped out. They both took a deep breath when the older man only drank from a beer bottle and stumbled to the back of the truck.
“Naveen.”
He pressed the doorbell again. “Yes, I’m carrying the gun. I’ve been carrying the gun.”
“You don’t know how to shoot.”
“It’s better to have it on us than in the car where it could be used against us.”
“Incorrect. Give it to me.” She held out her hand.
“But—”
“Which one of us can shoot? You or me?”
His lips flattened, but he handed over the gun. She checked it quickly, relieved to note that the safety was on. It felt warm in her hands, but she knew that was from Naveen’s body and not the fact that she’d fired it.
The red blossoming over the man’s chest.
Mira closed her mouth and breathed through her nose. “You can’t—”
The door opened and Mira froze at the Glock pointed at them. “Drop your gun.”
This tall, Rubenesque woman with tear-stained cheeks was not Emi, and she was definitely not playing. Mira carefully squatted and put the gun on the ground, then rose, keeping her hands visible. “We’re looking for Emi. We’re old friends.” That was mightily stretching things, but she’d say anything at the moment to get the woman to lower her weapon.
Not that that was likely, given the annoyance and sadness on the woman’s face.
“In that case, fuck off,” the woman said bluntly.
“Is she here?”
“Nope.”
“We could wait for her,” Naveen offered. He gave the woman a smile that was so blinding, Mira had to blink. He’d turned his most charming smile on her before, but it had been a minute.
The woman snorted. “Good fucking luck. I’ve been waiting for years.” She lowered the gun. “Who are you, exactly?”
“I, um, went to high school with her. We need her help.”
“She’s no help to anyone.”
“Nonetheless, we’d love to speak with her. Does she live here?”
“She does, but like I said, she’s not here.” A malicious look entered her eyes. “I could tell you where she is.”
“Great,” Naveen said, and waited.
Mira cleared her throat. “She wants a bribe.”
“I want a bribe,” the woman confirmed.
Mira looked at Naveen, who pulled out their FBI agent friend’s wallet. He looked inside and grimaced, then pulled out a few bills. The woman took it and snorted. “Eleven bucks?”
“It’s literally all we have.”
She rolled her eyes and took a step back, still clutching the bills. “Get lost.”
“Wait, wait.” Mira took a step forward, trying to think. The tears, her animosity toward them, the disdain in her voice. Mira clocked her disheveled hair, her distraught expression. Lovers’ spat? Disgruntled partner? “I know she won’t want to see us, but it’s really important we speak with her.”
“Oh, she won’t want to see you?” The woman’s lips turned up at the corners. She shoved their last eleven dollars in her bra and leaned on the door frame, the gun dangling from her fingers. “She’s at the Regal down the street, in room 3202. Tell her Janice fucking hates her and hopes she dies.” The aforementioned Janice slammed the door in their faces.
Mira and Naveen looked at each other. Mira scooped up their gun and stashed it safely in her inside coat pocket. “Well, this was a dead end.”
Naveen shook his head. “Why? What’s the Regal?”
“An older casino down on Fremont. We can’t go there.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s probably doing something shady.”
Naveen followed her down the steps to their ancient car. “You don’t know that.”
“I know her, and I know that place. She’s up to something. Probably gambling, maybe a private game.”
“Or maybe she’s enjoying a staycation,” Naveen suggested.
Mira gave him an incredulous look. “Doubtful.”
“Do you know anyone else who could get us into the only lead we have? Someone we can call on right now?”
Ugh. She released a frustrated exhale through her nostrils. “Fine. Let’s go. But we’re leaving the gun in the car.”
The Regal was one of the older casinos downtown, in the area that had originally housed Las Vegas’s nightlife, before the Strip existed as it did in its present form. The bones of the building were good, and the bright white lightbulbs on the pathway outside of it gave it an old-world glamour.
That was the best that could be said about it. Inside, the carpet was stained, and the slot machines were ancient. The people playing looked about as exhausted as the decor, but it was a Friday night and there was a big crowd.
Naveen took a good look around. “I don’t think I’ve been here when I visited Vegas.”