Ghost of a Gamble (Granny Apples Mystery) (20 page)

I must be tired and falling asleep
, she thought, but didn’t do anything to shake herself out of it. She went from floating to standing in the middle of a street. She didn’t know how she got there. It didn’t feel like she’d been dropped. One minute she was light and airy, and the next on solid ground standing in the middle of a narrow street in the desert. In front of her was a small house. No, it wasn’t a house. It was a mobile home. An old double-wide, white with green shutters, with rust along its edges. Parked parallel to the street in front of the trailer was an old black pickup truck. Emma moved to her right to study the side of the trailer partially blocked by the tail of the truck. Near the back, she spotted a set of weathered wooden steps that led from the ground up to a door. Moving to the other side of the trailer, she took note of a silver Honda Accord parked in a carport under a canopy. Off to the left of the back of the carport was a small shed, or more of a lean-to, under which lidded garbage cans were kept. Another set of steps lead from the carport up to the mobile home. There was no sight of anyone, not driving on the street or stirring on foot. She looked around and saw no homes, mobile or otherwise nearby, except for a single structure far down the road on the left.

She walked up the steps on the side with the vehicle and entered without opening the door. Inside a fat man was snoring on the couch. In a recliner, a younger man was also asleep.

“Emma, what are you doing here?”

Emma turned and smiled. It was Granny. “I’ve come to fetch you, Granny. We need you. Is Dolly okay?” In answer, Granny took her into a room where Dolly was sound asleep.

“Emma.” Someone shook her. “Emma, it’s Phil. You nodded off.”

Emma opened her eyes. She wasn’t in the middle of a street or in a mobile home, but sitting in a coffee shop with Phil and Quinn. The sounds of slots machines drifted in through the door.

She looked at Phil and shook her head. “How long was I . . . how long was I out?”

“Just a couple of minutes,” said Quinn.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she told them. “I saw the mobile home. I saw where they’re holding Dolly. Granny was there.
I was there
. I was inside and I saw Dolly.”

“And now we’re here,” said the ghost, who was standing next to her. Granny studied Emma with concern. “That was pretty spooky. One minute I heard you calling to me. The next minute you were inside the trailer with me. You haven’t done that before, have you?”

“No,” Emma told her. She looked at Phil. “It was sort of like what happened with that ghost Addy. Remember?”

He nodded with great concern. “Yes, you became her in your mind and saw her past.”

“Yes, but this time I was in the present. I wanted to find Granny and ended up going to her instead of calling her to me.” She looked at Granny, fear and confusion bubbling up inside her along with the acid from the orange juice. “Granny, was I a spirit of some sort?”

“No, at least not like I am. I didn’t really see you, Emma, I just knew you were there. Like your mind was there, but not your body.”

Emma picked up her water glass and drained it, taking a minute to shake off the weird feeling in her body, like she’d passed through some door into another dimension. It was definitely something she’d have to ask Milo about.

She forced her mind to clear and stay focused. “We’ve got to get ready to meet John Foster.” She turned to Granny. “He’s coming here to help us. Or so I hope. When he arrives, I need you to spy on him and make sure he’s alone and not up to something. Phil and Quinn will also be watching. Foster thinks I’m here alone.”

“You got it, Chief,” Granny said.

“And Laura and Dolly are okay, right?”

“Right as rain for now,” the ghost reported, “except we need to end this as soon as possible.”

“Why do you say that?”

Granny looked worried. “Just a feeling I get. If I were alive, I’d say I have the heebee-jeebees. I just think if we don’t get them out of there soon, we never will.”

Quickly, Emma told the men what Granny said, then replied, “It’s the same feeling I’m getting, Granny. That we’re all getting.”

E
MMA
read the text:
He’s here. Blue Prius. Def. NOT a patrol car.
It came across the screen from Quinn’s phone to both Phil and Emma. Quinn was in the far end of the parking lot in the rented Jeep with the binoculars, keeping a look out for Foster, checking out every vehicle that pulled into the casino lot. There weren’t many at this early hour, he’d reported earlier—just one car and a Pink Jeep Tours van—before Foster came along.
Appears alone
, came the next text. The plan called for Quinn to stay in the parking lot, keeping a lookout for any vehicles that were following Foster as backup.

Phil was positioned near the front door, sitting on a bench, pretending to read the morning paper. On his head was a baseball cap with
Boulder Dam
embroidered across the front, which they’d bought in the gift shop. They didn’t worry about Phil being seen by Foster. Foster hadn’t met him yet, so didn’t know his face. He appeared to be simply a middle-aged man waiting on his wife before they started their day of sightseeing. Phil’s job was to make sure Foster was alone and follow him into the casino when he entered to meet with Emma.

Granny was with Quinn in the Jeep. Even though he couldn’t see or hear the spirit, as soon as he spotted Foster, he would point him out to Granny. Her job was to go to him and eavesdrop, just in case he was communicating with backup. She would stick to him like glue all the way to Emma, reporting to her anything out of order. Granny had tried to get a bead on Foster earlier, hoping to be in the car with him the entire drive. Not being able to make the connection, she had to settle for limited sleuth time. The crime drama–loving ghost was beside herself with excitement at being included.

This was Emma’s backup. Her posse. The people who had her back, front, and sides, and who would make sure Foster did what he promised—come alone. Emma herself was seated in the coffee shop. She’d moved from their table to one by an emergency exit, just in case she needed to make a hasty one. In that event, Quinn would run the Jeep to the back of the building and pick her up. She’d avoided the booths, considering them awkward to get in and out of if she needed to make that quick getaway. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but it was all they had.

Foster coming
, Quinn texted.
No gun spotted but he’s wearing his shirt loose.

A minute later Emma saw John Foster enter the restaurant. She didn’t wave to him, but let him find her. He wasn’t wearing a suit, but jeans and a light blue golf shirt, worn loose as Quinn had said. He was unshaved. Dressed as he was, he looked younger than he had the day before. His walk was confident but not cocky. He spotted Emma and made his way to her, threading between tables to reach her. Only two other tables were occupied, both by older couples. They were across the room in front of the large window facing the highway.

“Emma,” he said, coming to a stop in front of her. “You made a serious accusation about my partner. I hope it’s not unfounded.”

“Have a seat, Detective.” Emma indicated the chair opposite her. “We have a lot to discuss and not a lot of time to do it.”

Before he was situated, Phil showed up, politely removing his cap before taking his seat. “This is my friend Phil Bowers,” Emma told Foster. “He’ll be joining us. He’s a lawyer.”

“Do you need a lawyer, Emma?” Foster asked, his mouth tight as he said the words.

“No, but they’re always handy to have around, don’t you think?”

“Did Dr. Keenan go home?”

Emma didn’t answer the question, but instead glanced at Granny. “He’s clean as a whistle,” the ghost reported. “No calls to or from anyone. Not even one of those text thingies.”

Satisfied, Emma began the meeting. Without going into all the details, she told Foster about Gene and Howard Garby.

“Yeah,” Foster said with a shrug. “I know they’re brothers.” A waitress came over and Foster ordered coffee. Emma had had enough coffee and asked for some water. Phil ordered nothing.

“Did you know that they are also the sons of Nelson Morehouse?”

From the genuine surprise on Foster’s face, Emma could tell Foster didn’t have a clue about that.

“Nemo’s sons?”

“Yes,” Emma told him. “Nemo told me himself.”

“His ghost told you they were his sons.” Foster shifted in his seat. From his posture, Emma could tell he wasn’t taking her seriously. “I know my partner’s life story,” Foster told her. “He was raised right here in Boulder City. His father was Elmore Garby. His parents retired to Florida a few years ago.”

Emma nodded. “They were adopted by a man named Garby when their mother married him, but they are Nemo’s sons and are in contact with him.”

“You mean
were
in contact with him.” Foster leaned forward. “As you’ll recall, Nemo died.”

“They are still in contact with him, or at least trying to be. Just this morning, Nemo tried to hire me to be the medium between them.”

Foster looked at Phil, who only nodded.

“I know this sounds fantastic, Detective,” Emma said, keeping her voice low, “but hear me out.”

After giving it several seconds of thought, Foster indicated for her to continue.

“Nemo and his sons are trying to locate the money stolen from the Lucky Buck Casino. You know, the casino once owned by your family.” Her last words were laced with accusation.

“I know the story.”

“Lenny Speidel and Nemo worked together on the heist, but afterward, Lenny hid the money and wouldn’t tell Nemo where. Nemo’s goons killed him and got rid of the body. Nemo is a big believer in mediums like myself and so is his son Gene. They hatched a plan for Nemo to contact Lenny on the other side once he was dead.”

“Nemo was quite sick,” Foster noted, “but he could have lingered for months.”

“With Nemo’s permission, they had Frankie Varga kill him. The plan was for Nemo to get Lenny to tell him where the money was and then use a medium to communicate the information to his sons. That’s where Laura Crawford comes in.”

“That’s the girl with the fortune-telling wagon on Fremont Street, right?”

“Yes.”

Foster poured milk into his coffee. “We followed up on your story. She did go missing in the last day or two, just like you said.”

“Nemo has her. Or rather his people do. We know he’s working with Frankie Varga. There’s another guy, too. Kind of a sloppy, dumpy guy, but we don’t know who he is.”

Foster fiddled with his mug but didn’t drink from it. “Frankie seems to be MIA also. He took a few days off after Nemo died, but no one can find him.”

“He’s with Dolly and Laura,” Phil chimed in. “Armed and holding them.”

Foster started to raise his mug to drink, but halted it halfway. “Where?”

“Dolan Springs, Arizona,” answered Emma.

“In one of them movable houses,” added Granny. “Tell him that.”

“They’re stashed in a mobile home in Dolan Springs,” Emma clarified.

“Did Nemo tell you this, too?” ask Foster.

Emma couldn’t tell if Foster was believing her or humoring her. “No, he didn’t. He doesn’t know we know. We figured it out just by asking questions and putting the pieces together. But Nemo did say that unless Lenny gave up the Lucky Buck cash, they would die. Laura isn’t working out as planned, so I’m supposed to call Gene Garby and set up the exchange.”

Foster nearly dropped his coffee. “You have the money stolen from the Lucky Buck?”

Under the table, Phil squeezed Emma’s knee, which she took for a proceed-with-caution signal. “No, I don’t have it, but I know where it is.”

“We don’t think,” added Phil, “that Nemo and his boys will release Dolly and Laura unharmed even if they get the money.”

“Nemo even taunted Lenny about it,” Emma added. “Said there was a fifty-fifty chance Dolly would live even if he got the money, but a hundred percent chance she wouldn’t if he didn’t get it.”

“That’s one of the reasons we called you, Detective,” Phil continued. “We need to figure this out and rescue the women. We didn’t feel we had the best chance on our own.”

“I’m glad you did call,” Foster told them, his eyes fixed on the window and the view of the highway in the distance. “To be honest, Howard has been acting odd lately, even for him.” He looked back at Emma. “But why would he do something like this? Why would he throw away a solid career?”

“According to Nemo,” Emma explained, “Howard is upset because you were brought in from the outside in a position above him.”

Foster sighed and took a drink of his coffee. “Yeah, I know he resents that. He hasn’t even tried to hide it. But that wasn’t my fault. They were never going to promote him. If it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else. Police departments now are looking for college graduates with backgrounds in computers and forensic science, even psychology. Howard’s good at his job but stuck in time and with bad people skills. He’s been so belligerent lately, he’s even picked a few fights with other cops.”

Emma believed that after meeting Detective Garby. “Right now the Garbys do not know that we’re on to them or that we know about Dolan Springs. Nemo wants me to call Gene to set up the exchange, but if I do, then he’ll know for sure that I know who he is and it will put not only those women, but me and my friends, in jeopardy.” She leaned forward, arms on the table to get closer to Foster. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn about the money,” she hissed, “but I’m not about to let two women go to their deaths without trying to do something.”

Phil also leaned forward. “Question for you, Detective: Are you also on the hunt for the casino money?”

Foster leaned back in his seat and rubbed a hand over his face. “I heard the story of the robbery many times growing up. It’s what started my interest in that era of Vegas as a kid, but I always thought Speidel double-crossed Morehouse and took off with the cash, which is what everyone thought.” He looked Emma in the eye. “I never considered Speidel being murdered by Nemo until you mentioned his ghost yesterday.”

Foster leaned forward again. “You say there’s another guy with them, a kind of slobby young guy? Kind of fat?”

Emma looked to Granny and she nodded. “At first I thought he was older, but now I’m of a mind he’s closer in age to Frankie. He has brown thinning hair and a skimpy mustache.” Emma relayed the description to the detective as if it were her own observation.

“That could be Lloyd Garby, Gene’s son,” said Foster, again playing with his mug. “I’ve met him a few times. Not a very bright kid. Can’t keep a job. He’s been arrested a few times on minor drug charges.” Foster scoffed. “Howard calls his nephew Baby Huey, you know like the old cartoon character. Lloyd is one of those fanatic comic book collectors. Spends all his money on them.”

“My first night here I went to see Laura at her wagon. There was a young man standing behind me reading a comic book. He fits the description to a T and was probably Lloyd Garby. That was right before Laura went missing. Of course, at that time I didn’t know yet who he was or anything about Nemo, except that Lenny’s ghost was trying to warn me about him.”

Foster looked at her with suspicion. “Then how did you know about him?”

Granny put her hands on her hips and squared off with Foster. “Because I told her, copper.”

“Granny told me,” Emma confessed. “She’s been keeping an eye on Dolly and Laura at the place where they’re being held. She described them and I remembered seeing that guy at Laura’s.”

“What a minute,” said Foster, his tone changing. “You said you pieced together information, but it was really a ghost who told you about Dolan Springs?”

“Granny didn’t know about Dolan Springs,” answered Phil. “Not specifically. Emma told you the truth. We did piece it together from information she and Quinn gathered.”

“But I remembered the pizza place,” squawked Granny, not pleased that her efforts were being omitted.

“Granny was simply keeping watch on the women,” Emma reiterated. “She kept us posted on how they were doing. We found the town, but she told us it was a mobile home and she identified Frankie Varga and described the other guy. Granny was at Desert Sun while Dolly was visiting Nemo. When Dolly left, Nemo was still alive.”

“But how do you know Varga killed him?”

Emma squirmed. She couldn’t give up Gloria Youngblood but needed Foster to believe the information was authentic. “Someone at the home overheard Gene and Frankie talking about killing Nemo and told me.”

“Someone?” inquired Foster. “As in another ghost?”

Then Emma thought about Bert. No harm could come to him. She’d simply imply he’d told her everything. “Someone saw Nemo alive when Dolly left and Nemo dead shortly after with Gene and Frankie in the room with him. That coupled with what was overheard indicates they killed Nemo. And Nemo himself told me he was close to death, so he and Gene cooked up a plan to end his life sooner so he could go after Lenny and the money.”

Foster looked at Phil. “You know testimony from ghosts will not hold up in a courtroom, don’t you?”

“You’d probably need a confession,” Phil agreed. “But our concern is the safety of those women. You’re the one who is going to have to figure out how to put those creeps away for good.”