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“It’s not unusual here. The casino is right across the way. When people win big, they often like to buy themselves a memento of the occasion, to celebrate.”
“Oh, that makes sense. Thank you,” she said, stepping away from the counter.
“One moment,” the man said, looking up from his file. “I remember that night. And that individual. That night was the night of the commotion.”
“What commotion?”
“Well, it was sometime after. This store never closes, but it was early in the morning. I remember a casino manager coming out and there being quite a fight. I believe that Tate man was involved. At least, it was some American.”
“What was the fight about?”
He scratched the side of his face, thinking. “From what I heard, the American was suspected of cheating at the blackjack table. Security came. I’ve never seen Etienne so furious, and he is one to keep his cool. But the American laughed in his face. He said that because he was an American, no one would ever touch him. Not publicly, anyway. And he just strolled off.”
“Cheating . . . so do you think the money he used to pay for the earrings and necklace was won by cheating at cards?”
“It’s possible.”
She pointed across the way, toward the casino. “You said his name was Etienne?”
“Oui, but he’s not the manager of the Pharoah’s casino. It’s a place at the end of the promenade, off the main road. Not many people know about it. Called Sofia’s.” He leaned in and whispered, “I wouldn’t go there, though.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re dangerous types. Mafia.” The last word came out as only a breath.
Mafia. So there it was. Goldie had said her ex-husband was a fool, but she hadn’t mentioned how big a fool he’d been. He’d deliberately taunted the wrong people.
She thanked the jeweler and stepped out onto the promenade. As she stood there, she thought about how Mooch had said that Franklin Tate had been looking toward the restrooms, anxiously waiting for his lady to return.
But now, she realized he likely hadn’t been looking for a woman at all. He’d been looking past that, toward Sofia’s, the mafia casino at the end of the promenade. He’d been concerned that they’d come after him.
And yet instead of going on his way, back to the plane, he’d stopped and bought these earrings for this redheaded woman. Why?
Her phone buzzed with a text, alerting her she had a message from the Venice police. The toxicology reports for his morning drink glass were in.Traces of Batrachotoxin.
He had been murdered by his morning pick-me-up.
So someone had gotten on the plane to spike it. Who?
She walked to the end of the promenade and stepped out of the double doors, noticing a small, glowing red sign that said SOFIA. In the light of day, it didn’t look too threatening, but the door and façade were covered in ivy, as if it wanted to stay relatively hidden.
Could she go there? She thought about her promise to Zachary to stay safe. Tangling with the mafia definitely wasn’t safe.
But then again, it was daytime. And if it could finally bring her some answers to the many questions swirling in her head, it would be worth it.
Taking a deep breath, she walked across the courtyard, toward the casino.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
It was barely afternoon by the time Daisy reached the front door of Sofia’s casino. The building was not only covered in ivy, but it was a basement establishment, so she had to walk down a few steps to get to the front door. Since it was so early, she expected to find it closed.
But the door swung open. To her surprise, a cloud of cigar smoke greeted her, making her eyes water as she peered into the cave-like room.
A voice barked at her from deep within, something in French that she couldn’t make out. Meanwhile, she heard the sounds of chatter and the ticker of a roulette wheel. She also smelled something other than cigar and cigarette smoke . . . it burned her nostrils. Against her better judgement, she stepped through the door and forced her eyes to adjust to the darkness.
Four sets of eyes—enormous, scowling men in suits—stared at her. They were standing together, having drinks at the nearby bar, and she’d clearly disturbed whatever conversation they were having.
“I’m looking for Etienne,” she squeaked.
