His gaze swept the banks of slot machines, the clusters of regulars hunched over poker tables, the bar and its parade of lost souls.
The man missed nothing.
He nodded toward the back corner. “Manager’s office is past the buffet, left side. You want me with you, or invisible?”
“Let’s try invisible for now,” she said, already marching toward the glazed-glass door labeled STAFF ONLY. “But if someone throws me out, you have permission to go full John Wick.”
A flicker—maybe a smile—crossed his face, but then he was gone. He didn’t so much blend as recede; you looked away for one second and he’d evaporated.
No wonder they called him Ghost.
Naomi ducked through the door into a drab corridor that was the exact opposite of the casino floor. Industrial white walls, utilitarian gray carpet, and ugly fluorescents that made everything look like a crime scene photo.
Luckily, the hall was empty. She didn’t really want to explain why she was back here when she clearly wasn’t a staff member.
She passed a locker room, a break room where one dealer sat sipping coffee, and found the manager’s office door open at the end of the hall.
Taya Finley was perched behind a massive desk, phone sandwiched between her shoulder and ear. She wore a blue suit, glasses pushed up to her hairline, and the look of a woman five seconds from a nervous breakdown.
“No, I said comp his drinks, not give him the entire bottle. — Yes, I know he’s a ‘valued customer.’ — Yes. No. Yes. I’ll be right there.” She hung up without further pleasantries, then looked up and froze.
“Naomi Lefthand. I wondered when you’d show.”
“Hope you don’t mind me dropping by unannounced.”
Finley made a face. “This really isn’t a good time.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
Taya pursed her lips, looked at her watch, then sighed and waved to one of the guest chairs. “Take a seat.”
Naomi did. “I need to see your time sheets. All of Leelee’s clock-ins, plus anyone who worked security the night she went missing.”
“Already sent them to the sheriff, but fine. I’ll print a copy.” Taya’s fingers blazed across the keyboard, her nails so short theylooked bitten. The printer whined, spitting out paper at a glacial pace.
Naomi looked around. “You short-staffed tonight?”
“We’re always short-staffed.” She turned in her chair, gathering the sheets from the printer, and pushed them across the desk. “Leelee was scheduled from four p.m. to midnight. Won the staff costume contest at ten-thirty.” A slight smile touched her lips. “She was Cher fromClueless.The plaid outfit?”
“Her mom mentioned that.”
“It was a good costume. Accurate.” Her smile faded. “That night, I was closing out in the cash cage until almost one. I saw her leave through the side door, headed to the employee lot. I made a note of it because she waved. She always waved. Not everyone does, you know.”
“Did you see anyone follow her out?”
“No.” Her brow furrowed. “I wish I had.”
“What about inside? Any customers get too friendly that night? Anyone she had words with?”
Taya’s mouth twitched. “Not that night. She was a favorite with regulars. She could shut down a creep without making a scene, but if anyone pressed, she’d have reported it. And she didn’t.”
Naomi had read the HR files. She knew Leelee was universally liked—smarter than her job, but not so proud she let it show.
“Can I see the security footage?”
Taya hesitated. “I thought the sheriff’s office already pulled it.”
She sensed she was losing the woman and decided to go with the truth: “The sheriff has no interest in finding Leelee. Please, let me take a look.”
