24. Lottie
LOTTIE
C audwell Belding is less than ten feet away and looks every bit like a man trying to lose his life savings at a blackjack table, right here in Jimmy Canelli’s illegal gambling casino.
“He’s leaving.” Everett nods toward the exit as Caudwell pushes away from the table. And if I’m not mistaken, Caudwell’s face is flush with annoyance.
We waste no time in tracking him, weaving through tables and dodging waitresses with trays of half-empty whiskey glasses until we’re right on his tail.
Everett steps forward. “Caudwell? Fancy running into you here,” he teases. “Is this what you call a night off?”
Caudwell stops in his tracks as he quickly inspects the three of us. “Well, if it isn’t the Baxter bunch and Detective Fox.” He gives a good-natured laugh. “Didn’t expect to see the three of you here. Not on singles’ mingle night. Unless, of course, you’re looking to find a few good men or women to crash the party.” He raises his hands. “Hey, I don’t judge. That’s your job.” He mock-shoots Everett with a laugh.
I’m not laughing.
If either Noah or Everett asked to have another woman join the fray, I’d have their head on a platter and I’d do it with my dullest butter knife, too.
“Lemon’s sister works here—as a dance instructor.” Everett is smooth with the lie robed in the truth. “Noah thought we should head down to the casino before we left so he could show us how fast he can make fifty bucks disappear.”
“You mean double my money,” Noah says, all too eager to play along. “Hey, diapers are expensive. A man has to do what a man has to do.”
“Or you can put it on Everett’s credit card,” I say and we all share a laugh at that one—sans Everett, of course. But in truth, with Carlotta, Evie, and me on his credit card, it’s hard to tell where the big financial blows are coming from.
“You seem to be enjoying yourself tonight,” Everett says as he glances at the table Caudwell just left.
Caudwell sighs, and a weary look settles over his features. “Yeah, with the singles’ mingle event tonight, I didn’t expect this place to be so lively. The energy doesn’t seem to jive with my luck—of which I don’t seem to have any.” He gives a mournful laugh.
Everett purses his lips at the man. “Rumor has it, you’ve got quite the gambling habit. And quite the debt to match.”
Caudwell’s eyes narrow at the thought, and he certainly doesn’t deny it. “I know how it looks,” he says, glancing around, clearly not wanting to draw attention. “Okay, fine. I may have a problem. I’ll admit, I need help. It’s been a struggle for me for a bit.”
“I’m sorry to hear it,” Noah says. “Where are you getting the funds? Are you running your empire dry?”
Caudwell closes his eyes a moment too long. “I’m trying not to do that. If you want the truth, I’ve been borrowing heavily from friends.”
“Friends?” I tip my head his way. “Would one of those friends happen to be Romeo Langford?”
The man inches back and his mouth falls open, just as Sweetheart floats on by. “Good work, Lottie! I’d help, but these women would be lost without my supernatural tips and tricks. In fact, I’ve already landed Spicy Shelly in a dark corner with a handsome suitor. The way they’re going at it, why, she should have a full litter by spring.”
Who says Shelly is nothing like me?
Caudwell scratches the back of his head. “All right, if you must know. I owe Romeo twenty grand. And yeah, he ends up dead, and here I am, still very much alive. It’s not a good look, I know. But I promise you, I didn’t do it.”
“Twenty grand is a lot of incentive,” Noah says, as he blows out a breath.
“Incentive for what? To make things worse for myself? I’m not an idiot, Detective.” He points at Noah, his expression turning serious. “You do your job right, and you’ll figure that out on your own. No offense, but I’ve done my own digging, and so far, you’ve yet to get it right.” He turns to Everett, giving him a sober look. “And if that’s the case, I’m looking to you to help me land the best defense attorney out there.”
With that, he turns and walks off, disappearing into the crowd before any of us can get another word in.
Carlotta trots over before I can soothe any hurt feelings Noah might have. It might have been the truth, but those words stung just to hear them. And sure enough, Sweetheart floats up right by her side.
“All right, you smokin’ sweethearts,” Carlotta calls over to us. “It looks as if my work here is done.” She checks her watch. “And my work upstairs is about to begin. Follow me. The more, the merrier.”
“Where are we headed?” Noah growls her way. Mostly because wherever Carlotta leads us there’s always trouble.
“Buck up, Foxy, we’re headed to a party to end all parties.”
Now this I’ve got to see.
We head upstairs, and as soon as I see it, I nearly pass out.