The Disciple of Las Vegas Read Online Free PDF Page A

trying the men’s patience and that he was sensitive to it.
    â€œI think that maybe Ms. Lee’s time would be best spent with Marx,” Ordonez said, his breathing rapid and heavy. “There is nothing more we can tell her.”
    â€œI agree,” Uncle said, reaching over to touch her hand.
    â€œI’ll have my girl take her down,” Ordonez said to Uncle, turning slightly away from Ava.
    â€œWe’ll spend some time getting caught up, and we still need to finalize your fee,” Chang said. “Then I’ll have you taken to the Peninsula. Ms. Lee can join you there later.”

( 4 )
    Louis Marx looked up from his chair. He was in the boardroom one floor below Ordonez’s office, surrounded by boxes and files strewn across the table.
    â€œHello,” Ava said from the doorway.
    Marx looked confused. “And what do you want?”
    Ava took a few steps forward and stood across the table from Marx. “I’ve been brought in to help find the money. I thought they’d told you about me. My name is Ava Lee.”
    â€œThey said they were bringing in an accountant. They didn’t give me a name. They also didn’t tell me you were a woman — a young woman.”
    â€œWhat did you expect?”
    â€œSomeone more like Dog the Bounty Hunter.”
    She smiled and extended her hand. “Well, I’m Ava Lee.”
    â€œPleased to meet you,” Marx said. He stood and reached across the table to shake her hand. His palms were sweaty. He was a large, flabby man, the kind who spent his life indoors behind a desk and had no appetite for exercise. His wrinkled grey slacks were half covered by the tail of his white dress shirt, and his stained blue tie hung loosely around his neck.
    â€œAre you all right?” she asked.
    â€œNot really,” Marx said, his eyes darting manically around the room.
    â€œAnything I can do?”
    â€œYeah, let’s get this over with so I can get on a plane and get back to Vancouver.”
    â€œWhat’s been going on?”
    He waved a hand over the boardroom table. “They’ve been using me as a punching bag,” he said. “I think they’re trying to pin this entire fiasco on me. That’s what’s been going on.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œFor the past three days I’ve been stashed away in this room getting grilled by Mr. Chang and one or another of the other senior financial people here. They come in together, ask questions, and then talk to each other in Chinese or Filipino or whatever language they’re speaking, as if I’m not even in the room. Then they start up again. I’ve answered the same questions ten times.”
    â€œThat must be unpleasant,” Ava said.
    â€œReally? Let me tell you how it started when I got here. They stuck the most incredibly detailed and one-sided non-disclosure agreement in my face and told me to sign it. I said I was an employee and that I’d already signed one in Vancouver. They told me I needed to sign that one too, and if I didn’t they’d fire me and then sue me for the missing money. So I signed, of course, but things didn’t get any easier.”
    â€œWell, it isn’t my style to make threats, so why don’t we sit and chat. Unless I’m completely misinformed, this is now my project, so you only have to concern yourself about dealing with me.”
    He seemed to relax as he looked down at the files. “There’s a lot of information here, but truthfully, I’m not sure how relevant it is.”
    She sat at the table, removed a new Moleskine notebook from her Chanel purse, and wrote Ordonez across the top of the first page. Ava always used a new notebook for each case, and when the job was completed — successful or not — it was stored away in a safety deposit box at the Toronto-Dominion Bank a few blocks from her condo. “Let’s forget about the files for now,” she said.