Deadly Gamble by Linda Lael Miller

roughly 1:30 a.m., pulled on my clothes, left a hasty note, and booked it back to Cave Creek.
    â€œLet’s not get into an argument before you even get here, all right? You may be white, and you may be crazy, but except for Sweet Lillian and Greer, you’re all I’ve got. How is Lady Bountiful these days, anyway? Still livin’ the high life in Scottsdale? And before you answer—how’s Lillian?”
    â€œI’ll bring you up to speed on Lillian when I get to your place. I’m planning on stopping by Sunset Villa on my way south to make sure she’s all right.” I paused. “As for Greer—well, she’s Greer.” There was something off about Mrs. Pennington, but mentioning that could wait until Jolie and I met in person.
    â€œI’ll be looking for you Friday night, then,” Jolie said. “Call my cell if I’m not at the apartment when you get there.”
    I promised I would and hung up.
    Breakfast was a Lean Cuisine. I kept hoping, as I went through my wardrobe for clean and presentable items of clothing, that Chester would pop in—it would even have been worth another round with Nick to see my cat—but he didn’t show. Maybe he’d hopped one of those trains out of the heavenly depot, bound for feline glory.
    I had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, Chester deserved Cat Paradise. On the other, I’d have to start missing him all over again.
    I packed my toothbrush and cosmetics, stuffed what I intended to wear into a black garbage bag, and left the apartment. Next stop, Maggie’s Spin-N-Dry.
    Bert’s bike wasn’t in the lot, and I could see the padlock gleaming on the side door, still fastened tight. I wanted to let him know I was going to be away for a few days, both so he wouldn’t worry and as an incentive to keep an eye on my apartment. I decided to stop by after my laundry was done.
    A chill tiptoed up my spine and did a moon-walk at my nape.
    I looked around again. Nobody in sight, but I would have sworn I was being watched. Seriously creepy feeling.
    I opened the rear door of the Volvo, on the driver’s side, and tossed in my trash bag. Something drew my gaze upward, to the apartment, and I saw Nick’s face, framed in the kitchen window. I couldn’t read his expression from that distance, but I knew he was trying to push my buttons.
    I’m a poor lonely ghost. How can you leave me like this?
    I actually considered going back upstairs to keep the dead ex company for a little while—and maybe Chester was with him—but I wasn’t going to get my laundry done and make Cactus Bend by four o’clock if I tarried. So I smiled and did a waggly-fingered wave, then got into the Volvo and sped away.
    I felt only mildly guilty.
    Things went okay at Maggie’s. I folded my blue sundress, clean jeans, fresh underwear and T-shirts, put them back in the garbage bag and made for the Volvo. One of these days, I was going to have to invest in a suitcase.
    The lot was full at Bert’s when I got back, and the kitchen window was empty.
    I decided not to go upstairs and conduct a paranormal investigation. If Nick’s business, whatever it was, suddenly became urgent, he could probably haunt me even if I was on the move.
    Bert was busy behind the bar as I entered, so I stopped to pet Russell, who was on his bar stool, licking his chops after a pepperoni donation. A few scraps remained, but I predicted he’d make short work of those, and I was right.
    â€œHey, Mojo,” Bert said. “Trying to score a free coffee?”
    â€œI wouldn’t mind one for the road,” I answered, and zeroed in on the coffeemaker.
    â€œYou goin’ somewhere?” Bert asked.
    I lowered my voice, although the jukebox and the steady click of pool balls were so loud, the risk of being overheard was minimal. “Cactus Bend,” I said. “Then a day or two in Tucson, with my sister. I ought