Page 38 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

He offered a hand. “Mr. Gallagher? I’m Lieutenant Hamill.”

They shook, and as Cole looked around the garage, he saw reddish-brown streaks of what appeared to be blood on the concrete parking deck.

“What happened? Perry said one of our employees nearly got run down?”

“From what Ms. McCall was able to tell us before she was taken to the hospital, the vehicle pulled out of a parking slot and drove right at her.”

What?

“Drove right at her? Why the hell would someone do that? Were they drunk?”

“We’re hoping you’ll be able to shed light on that.”

“On whether they were drunk? How would I know? Wedon’t track every guest from bar to car.” The lieutenant was watching Cole closely. Could the cop smell the alcohol on his breath? “And yes, I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine tonight, but I didn’t drive myself here.”

“I saw you arrive. That your wife? Girlfriend?”

Bella had climbed out of the Prius, and she was leaning on the fender with her bad leg crossed over her good one, watching them. How was he supposed to describe their relationship? Was there a relationship? He could hardly tell the cop she was a three-time hookup.

“She’s just a friend.”

“I see. And I meant that you might know the reason for the incident. After Ms. McCall fell between those cars”—he waved a hand toward the bloodstain—“the driver reversed back to where she was lying and gave her a message.”

Even in the still heat of the parking garage, a shiver ran down Cole’s spine.

“What was the message?”

“That she should tell her boss that this was his second warning, and he’d regret waiting for a third. And—Ms. McCall’s memory is hazy for this part—they’ll get what’s owed to them, no matter how many tricks he plays.”

A second warning? That made no sense. A warning for what?

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re Ms. McCall’s boss?”

“Yes, technically I am, but there hasn’t been any first warning. What tricks? I haven’t played any tricks on anyone.”

“I’m only relaying the message. You said you’re ‘technically’ her boss? What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that I recently inherited this hotel, and I’m just trying to keep everyone in a job.” Cole felt rather than saw Bella hobble closer, and he was grateful for her presence. Even though they’d met less than three weeks ago, it felt asthough she was the only person in Vegas who had his back. “My uncle owned the Galaxy, and he died unexpectedly. The place isn’t in good shape, not physically or financially, and I have no managerial experience.”

“I see.” The lieutenant made a note on his phone. “You mentioned the place isn’t in good financial shape—who do you owe money to?”

“Several banks and a host of suppliers. We’re still unpicking the accounting system, but we’ve been making the loan payments.”

The accounts payable clerk had been sick for months, and rather than replacing her or bringing in temporary help, Uncle Mike had tried to do the job himself. The invoices had piled up.

“And the suppliers?” the cop asked.

“We’re behind on some of those payments,” Cole admitted. “If this is about the ‘they’ll get what’s owed to them’ part, I doubt a reputable company would send a man to run down an employee in the parking garage.”

“Did your uncle deal with any disreputable companies? Sorry, but I have to ask.”

Cole thought of the strange guy who’d shown up unannounced in his office. Jimmy. Even during the first visit, when Jimmy had been civil, congenial even, there had been something about him that left Cole uncomfortable. Not just the fact that he was demanding money the Galaxy didn’t have, but the man’s demeanour. Cocky. Used to getting his own way.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Why the hesitation?”

---