“You love him. He loves you, and he loves his parents, I assume. He’ll convince them.” I gazed out the windshield. “Alana, do you know a Moore family? The mom, Sydelle, plays tennis, and one son is about nineteen.”
“Moore. Hmm. Does this have to do with Walter Russom and the guy you met, the one who died?”
“Maybe. The kid, name of Tommy, is an intern at Agrosafe. And Sydelle is dating Walter, according to Katherine.”
She snapped her fingers. “My mom was in the garden club for a while. She got sick of all the posturing and quit. I think a Sydelle might have been one of the movers and shakers, part of the upper echelon.”
“It’s not a name anyone would forget.”
“Right. Anyway, can you believe they even had an upper echelon? Mom just wanted to hang out with other ladies who liked to grow flowers and vegetables, maybe learn some stuff. She didn’t get it with that bunch, believe me.”
“Tommy Moore seems like a really eager beaver, as if he wants to impress Walter above all else.”
Alana scrunched up one eye. “You don’t mean he’d commit murder for him, do you?”
“I guess not. I’m sure you’re right. I might be reaching a bit.”
“Whatevs. I’ll ask Mom what she knows about Mrs. Moore tonight and let you know, okay?”
“Thanks. So how about coming with me for a quick visit to the casino in Santa Inez?”
“What? Right now?” Alana’s voice rose. “Why?”
I lifted a shoulder and dropped it. “To see how the rich people live?”
“Or the troubled and gambling-addicted. I can think of a zillion things I’d rather do.” My friend shot me a glance more full of disbelief than a judge hearing a serial liar’s latest case. “Seriously?”
“Okay. Truth time,” I confessed. “I heard Walter is addicted to gambling. When I was dawdling on the way to the little girls’ room, I saw a photograph of Walter all buddy-buddy with a guy who might have looked indigenous. What if Walter owes the casino a cow-patty load of money? What if his debts are ruining his business?” I should text Detective Gifford the picture. But he’d probably consider my even being in Walter’s house a form of investigating. He might not believe I went with a friend interested in Katherine’s business. Kind of interested. I decided to wait on the text.
Alana drove without speaking for a minute, but her direction was clearly northwest. That is, where Santa Inez sat in relation to Santa Barbara. “Did you notice when we left, Katherine said something about not making a habit of gambling?”
“I did.”
“Sounds like she’s aware her dad has a problem.”
“I know.” I glanced over at her. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you I was interviewed by a police detective earlier today.”
Her eyes went wide. “Like, grilled at the police station in a grim room with a one-way mirror?”
“You watch too much television.”
“Actually, I don’t watch any. Who has the time?”
I laughed. “Anyway, I met Detective Gifford at the library. It was all very civilized. Except he recorded our chat, and I was severely cautioned not to try to investigate Paul’s death.”
“Which is exactly what you’re doing, and carting me along for the ride.”
“Sort of. But how can asking a few questions in a big public place be dangerous?”
“I don’t know. Notice I’m not exactly being dragged there. A few more hours with my bestie? No-brainer.” She tapped the steering wheel. “I remember hearing about the casino being built when we were kids.”
“You do?” I asked. “I don’t.”
“They put up the fancy resort later, maybe ten years ago. I’ve lost track.”
“How were you aware of such stuff and I wasn’t?”
“Dad has a friend in real estate development.” She waved a hand in the air. “The guy got the contract for the resort and was over the moon about it.”
“Interesting. But, you know, simply because I want to check out a casino doesn’t mean you have to go with me.”
“I know, Rob. It’s not like our first investigation or anything.”
A snort slipped out. “You call lurking around that dude’s backyard an investigation?” Alana and I had done what we called surveillance during our junior year. Mainly it consisted of sneaking into the backyard of a cute guy she had an impossible crush on and using her binoculars to spy on him. The escapades were total girl fun. And resulted in zero dates for her. “Listen, you can take me back to my room and I’ll grab my car.”
“And miss an adventure with my sister in crime? Not a chance!”
Chapter 38
As we drove over San Marcos Pass on a road only recently repaired from a landslide, the scenery was stunning. The Cold Spring Canyon Bridge in particular made me gasp every time I saw it. An arch bridge that ran four hundred feet above the canyon below, it had another two thousand feet of mountains stretching up on both sides. From there we wound down the mountains, ending up in an inland valley.
“Geez, what a glitzy place,” I said as we pulled into the drive leading to the casino.
Alana bobbed her head in agreement. “Yeah, well, the type of people who like casinos probably expect bling on steroids.” She glanced at me. “Remind me what we’re hoping to accomplish here? Are we just going to go in, gamble, and hope to see Walter lose his shirt or something?”
“I’m not sure. Tell you what, I’ll buy you ten dollars’ worth of tokens and you can try to win a few bucks while I go snoop around.”
“Tokens?” She hooted. “What century do you live in, anyway? I bet they don’t use tokens anymore. It’s gotta be all digital and stuff.”
I laughed, too. “Color me clueless. When it comes to gambling, I’m perfectly content to stay that way.”
“And you’re not doing any snooping without me, girl, so get that idea out of your head.” She parked between a late-model Jaguar and a dusty, dented Corolla, with a dark blue mini-van beyond on one side and
