The moving billboard out in front of the Taj boasted a magic act with more of the real-life version of the animals, and two revues. One was beefy-looking men, and I recognized one of the faces, though I was thankful that most of him was hidden behind the other men. The other show was all girls. Max was trying to maximize his resort’s appeal as well.
Edward didn’t pull into the circular driveway but went past it to a smaller, less landscaped road. I saw signs that promised a parking garage. I guess we weren’t going to valet.
“The first time you see it, you either think it’s gaudy and awful, or you love it. There’s almost no halfway about this town,” Edward said.
I realized he’d kept quiet so I could enjoy the view. “It’s like Disneyland on crack, for grown-ups,” I said.
“You’re not going to hate it,” he said.
“They don’t call it Sin City for nothing,” Bernardo said.
I turned and looked at him as Edward slid into the shade of the parking garage. “Have you been here before, too?”
“Yeah, but not on business.”
I was debating on asking him what he had come for, and if I’d like the answer, but Edward said, “You sound like you’ve acted as Jean-Claude’s representative before.”
“This is the first time doing it without more help from home.” The ceilings always seem low to me in parking structures when I’m in an SUV.
“Who will play your lover?” Olaf asked it. I should have known he would.
“You didn’t behave yourself well enough at the coroner’s. I don’t trust you to be able to play the part in the way I need.”
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
I glanced at Edward, but his eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, and he didn’t look my way. I wanted to call him a coward, but that wasn’t it. I think, for once, he was as confused about how to handle the situation with Olaf as I was. Not good when Edward is out of his depth with his serial killer playmates.
“Hold that thought,” I said, and I dialed the only other number in Vegas that I had programmed into my phone. It was the man whose face I’d recognized on the billboard.
26
CRISPIN ANSWERED THE phone on the second ring; his voice still held that edge of sleep, but it was a happy edge. He worked nights, so his sleep pattern was close to mine. “Anita,” and that one word was way happier than it should have been.
“How did you know it was me?”
“I programmed a song for you, so I know it’s you.” I heard the sheets roll as he turned.
Was I the only person who didn’t know how to program my own damn phone? “I’m about to park in the garage at the New Taj.”
I heard the heavy slither of sheets across skin. Was he sitting up? “Right now?”
“Yes, I should have called you sooner, I’m sorry. I got distracted by the pretty lights.”
“Crap, Anita,” Crispin said, and I heard other noises on his end of the phone.
“You sound worried,” I said. “Why?”
“Chang-Bibi is my queen, but I’m your tiger to call.”
“Do I apologize for that again?”
There were more noises, and I realized he was getting dressed. “No, I’d just rather you let me move in with you, or at least move to St. Louis, but we’ll have that talk some other time.”
“You sound freaked, Crispin. What is wrong?”
Edward pulled into a spot, and Hooper’s SUV drove past ours, looking for his own parking spot.
“Let’s just say that there are guests here that Chang-Bibi wants you to meet, and you’ll want me within touching distance.”
“Don’t make me ask why again, Crispin.”
“Other tigers from other clans, Anita. They want to know if you can bring their powers online, too.”
“I’m not coming to feed the ardeur, Crispin, just to talk about the murders.”
“If Max were awake, that’s what you’d talk about. He’s business, but Chang-Bibi may think first about the tigers, second about business.”
“Are you actually saying that she wants me to… do some of the tigers before she’ll talk business?”
The phone fell, hit something, and made me take it away from my ear. He came back on, “Dropped the phone, Anita, sorry. I’ll meet you downstairs in the casino before you meet anyone else.”
“If you do that, won’t Bibiana question your loyalties?”
“Maybe, but I don’t want you meeting the new tigers without me.”
“Jealous?” I asked, and probably shouldn’t have.
“Yes,” he said, and that was Crispin. He didn’t play, really. If he felt something, he told you. It made him very uncomfortable to deal with sometimes.