Wanna Get Lucky? Read Online Free PDF

the wrong gal.”
    “You’re not being very helpful,” said Detective Romeo.
    I turned to look at him. He shrank back, then reddened again—apparently he was smarter than his partner and noticed my slitty eyes. “My contract says I don’t have to be helpful after midnight.” I spoke slowly, then smiled and batted my eyes at him. I know, I know—I should pick on someone my own size. After midnight I have no self-control.
    “You tell us if you find him.” Detective Richards said in his best “do as I say” manner. “You have my card.”
    “
If
I find him, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.” For a moment I held the detective’s steady gaze, then I stood and moved toward the door. “Gentlemen, if you please, I’m needed in Delilah’s Bar.”
    I opened the door and ushered them out.
    ONCE the door had closed behind the detectives, I paused at Miss Patterson’s desk long enough to kick off the flats I had been wearing and grab a pair of killer Jimmy Choo’s she kept stashed for me in her bottom drawer. With their delicate silver straps and six-inch heels, they were the best “knock me down and fuck me shoes” I owned.
    The phone rang incessantly—all three lines were lit. We both ignored it. “Have the dispatcher call me on my cell.” I sank into one of the chairs across from Miss Patterson’s desk. She grabbed a notebook and pen as I tried to stuff my already tired and swollen feet into the strappy shoes. “I told Jerry to keep Willie in Security, but now that the police have gone, tell Jerry the minute Willie shows his face around here, I want him strung up by the balls and brought to me. I’m going to hang him on a spit and roast him overan open fire.” The mental image of a well-done Willie brought a smile to my face.
    I tightened the straps on the shoes, then I arranged my décolletage to show a bit more cleavage. Fuck-me shoes and cleavage—the perfect costume for my part in Mr. Fujikara’s production. “Tell Operations two detectives are on their way to dispatch. Get rid of them quickly and for God’s sake don’t let them run into Willie, assuming, of course, we actually find the bastard.”
    I took a deep breath, steadying myself. My mind was whirling. “See if Felicia Reilly is working tonight. She’s a cocktail waitress and usually works in the high-stakes room—the same place Lyda Sue worked. Miss Reilly is Willie’s latest conquest. If she’s on the property, I want to see her in my office in thirty minutes.” I paused to let Miss Patterson, who scribbled fast, catch up. “Then see if you can find the Beautiful Jeremy Whitlock.”
    “The Beautiful Jeremy Whitlock?” Miss Patterson’s normal dour expression brightened.
    Hmmm, did Miss Patterson harbor a secret crush? I nodded. I’d probably have a crush on him, too, but I’d sworn off men. They were all pigs and to be pitied.
    Nobody ever referred to the private investigator as just Jeremy—he was always the Beautiful Jeremy Whitlock. And, I had to admit, the name fit. “See if he can come by tomorrow afternoon.”
    With both shoes firmly strapped on, I grabbed the edge of the desk as I carefully rose to my feet. Wearing high heels had never been my forté. Walking in them even less so. I took a tentative step, then another, gaining confidence by the time I reached the door and pulled it open.
    I had made it to the elevator when my Nextel spoke my name. I pulled it from its holster and pushed the direct-connect button. “O’Toole.”
    “Ms. O’Toole, this is Ben Hawkins in Guest Services. I worked dispatch tonight. Miss Patterson told me you wanted to talk to me.”
    I didn’t know Ben. He sounded young. His voice shook. Icouldn’t be that scary, could I? “Yes, Ben. Thanks for calling so quickly.” I stepped into the waiting elevator, thankful to have a wall to lean against. Normally, I took the stairs—the casino level was only one flight down—but not tonight, not in these shoes. “Have you guys had