"Sorry about that," I said. "What were you saying about my sister?"
"Look, if you're not ready to hear it, then just say so. You can always reach me at that number," the private investigator said and turned to go.
"No, don't listen to him. What, are you afraid I'm going to punch you?" I asked. "I keep my fighting in the ring."
"Except for that police officer," Matt Smith said.
"Of course, you would know about that."
"Good business practice to run background checks on my clients," he said. "Never know what trouble a client can be after the contract is signed. Best to know ahead of time."
"Speaking of knowing," I said. "You were going to tell me about my sister."
"Ah, yes, Ms. Dana Maria Morris. She is currently working in Las Vegas, though she does not have a permanent address." Matt pulled out a small black notebook.
"Then, how do you know she's here in Vegas?" I asked.
"I've, ah, been to her place of work."
"But she's gotta be sleeping somewhere. She got a man?" I asked.
"No, I'm sorry to say, from what I've seen, she has been living out of her car," Matt said.
My fists crushed the white towel. "And, what kind of work is she doing these days?"
"Dana Maria is also known as Pixie Dust. She is an exotic dancer in the back of O’Malley's Casino," he said. His eyes widened, as if expecting a blow from me at any moment.
He was right. I did want to punch him in the mouth, but I knew he was telling the truth about my older sister.
“So, my sister is here in Vegas," I said.
"Yes." Matt handed me a slip of paper. "Here's the name of the place she works. First shift is tonight sometime after eleven."
I turned in a full circle. On the second pass, I saw that Kya was standing nearby.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kya
I had to suffer an elevator ride with Kevin Casey in order to get into the gymnasium. Down in the lower levels of the casino, hotel, and arena was the place all the athletes trained before the big events.
"Not supposed to let endorsement agents down here," Fenton's manager said, "but I'll make an exception for you."
I slipped out before the elevator doors were open all the way. "Thank you, Mr. Casey. I appreciate it."
"Well, wait. Don't you want to discuss how you can show your appreciation?" he asked.
I dodged between two boxers whipping jump ropes at lightning fast speeds. Fenton's manager was stuck on the other side, too wide to slip between them without getting tangled up. The gymnasium was cavernous with two full-sized boxing rings, a three-lane running track around the perimeter, plus every amenity of a regular gym.
In the second ring, Fenton squared off against a young man. The young fighter appeared erratic and clumsy. Fenton was lithe and lethal, his laser blue eyes fixed hard on his sparring partner. I knew I was trespassing, as well as intruding, so I stuck to the wall and found an out of the way vantage point. From a distance, I could see the young man talking. He must have said something Fenton took offense to, because with three hard moves, Fenton took down the novice and left him howling in the middle of the ring.
It was definitely not a good time to interrupt, so I kept to the shadows. Fenton toweled off and climbed out of the ring. Then, he spotted a nondescript man on the opposite side of the gym. I wondered how I had missed the man earlier – he stuck out like me. I took a step towards them, worried that he was a rival agent.
The look on Fenton's face stopped me. A grim cut to his jaw made my heart clench. Ridiculous, I knew, to worry about Fenton getting bad news. I imagined explaining to my boss how I was only worried because a client never accepts a new contract when they've received bad news. Still, I knew it was more. The sad look on his face made me want to comfort him.
I had just witnessed the brutal way Fenton Morris could take down an opponent and yet, I was worried he could not take the obviously bad news the nondescript man was delivering. My feet moved before I could think about what I was doing. If I interrupted something serious, Fenton might be fed up with me and throw me out. One wrong move and my bonus, my promotion, and my secure mortgage would all disappear.
I marched across the gym, veering to the side so Fenton would not see me coming. The brown-haired man noticed me, but his expression betrayed nothing. The cool way he assessed everything with his plain, brown eyes was disconcerting. It was as if he could discern everything about me in one glance, while all I could figure out was that he was of average height.