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again until New Year’s Eve.

      “Once you check in for work, you don’t leave the ranch until your next break,” she said. “I wanted to be off for Christmas, but nobody wants to work on Christmas. So we had a lottery, and I had to settle for taking New Year’s off.”

      I don’t know what my face was saying, but it made Victoria smile. “I think of it as working on a cruise ship. If I were a massage therapist on the Emerald Princess, wouldn’t this all sound perfectly normal?”

      Victoria didn’t seem to expect an answer, so I didn’t say anything.

      “I started working at the Beavertail after Richard’s accident,” she continued. “When we first started talking about it, it was just a joke. But I don’t have a college degree, and I’m over forty. Makes it tough in this town. I couldn’t find a job worth doing that paid more than eight bucks an hour.”

      “What about your beauty business?”

      “It’s funny how things worked out. Four years ago, Richard brought home a good paycheck. American Beauty bought us a few extras, like dinner at Andre’s or a trip to Tahoe. A good little housewife hobby—that’s all it was. I sold lipsticks to girls I met at the gym or the beauty salon.

      “Then came the midnight call from University Medical Center. Richard was working late on a crane at the Fashion Show Mall. A metal beam fell on his arm, and it almost had to be amputated. He’ll never have total use of his left hand again, and he still needs more surgeries on his elbow.”

      “May I ask you something?” I said.

      “Anything you want.”

      “What does your son think?”

      Victoria didn’t say anything for a minute or two.

      “Up until a few days ago, Jason thought I worked as a massage therapist on a cruise ship.”

      “And now?”

      “I had to tell him. I couldn’t let him find out on TV or from kids at school.” She paused, and when she looked at me, her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “The toughest part wasn’t telling him, though. The toughest part was admitting I lied in the first place.” She paused and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That poor kid. And I can’t even be home with him for Christmas.”

      “Do you have plans for New Year’s?” I asked.

      “I have plans for a better new year,” Victoria said. “Everything will be better once American Beauty coughs up a good settlement.”

      Back at the Silverado, I pulled in next to Victoria’s blue Taurus.

      “We have a lot more talking to do, Copper,” she said. “We can do it by phone, or you’d be more than welcome to come out to Pahrump.”

      As curious as I was about the Beavertail, I decided to go with the telephone idea. Victoria said she’d call me around ten on Sunday morning, when she’d be “off shift.” I drove home, debating the whole way about whether I’d tell David Nussbaum about the box behind my seat.

      :: :: ::

      Thursday, December 15

      Wednesday disappeared in a hectic blur of holiday updates, but Thursday started off quietly. Not long after I arrived at work, Chris Farr asked me if I wanted to write a movie review. The regular reviewer’s father had come down with meningitis in Colorado. It wasn’t a sure thing, because the reviewer had an intern. But if the intern was too busy, I would get to go to an advance screening of an independent flick called Toto Too at the Village Square. The Village Square is one of the few theaters in Las Vegas that shows stuff besides the latest blockbusters. I had never heard of Toto Too, but a review with my byline would make a nice addition to my portfolio.

      Everything settled down into the usual routine after that, but a triple latte had given me an energy boost. I was alert enough to realize I had better read Victoria’s files before Daniel flew in from Costa Rica and my parents arrived from Connecticut.

      Christmas hadn’t started out as a family reunion. My original plan was to go to Costa Rica for a week, but Daniel had never been to Las Vegas, and we decided that New Year’s on the Strip was too good to pass up. Then Sierra asked my parents to come for Thanksgiving, but they’d already decided to spend it in Rhode Island with my mother’s sister. So now everybody would end up here on December 23rd—God, it was only a week away. Thinking about Daniel brought a warm glow to my belly. Thinking about Mom and Dad turned the glow into a knot.

      Just before I left for the day, David Nussbaum stopped by my cube.

      “I’m glad I caught you,” he said. “I’ve been swamped all day, but I wanted to ask you how things went Tuesday night.”

      “I liked the Sekhmet Temple,” I said, still unsure whether I should tell him about Victoria’s box of documents. “Everyone was really friendly.” I paused. “I like Victoria, too. I think she deserves a lot of respect for what she’s doing.”

      “Maybe,” David said. “Or maybe she just likes all the attention.”

      “There’s a lot more to her than that,” I said. “I’ll keep you posted. I’m talking with her again on Sunday.”

      David raised his eyebrows.

      “I’m only taking your advice, David,” I said. “Remember how you told me that the best way to move up is to sell a good freelance piece?”

      “Just be careful. Victoria’s got an agenda.”

      So do I, I thought, but all I did was nod.

      Chapter 5

      Friday, December 16

      No more than two minutes after I arrived at work, David Nussbaum appeared at my desk and said, “The Alliance for the Homeless is holding a press conference this morning.”

      “I know,” I said. “Say hi to my brother for me.”

      The Alliance for the Homeless is Michael’s big community project. He and his fellow board members were finally ready to announce that they had succeeded in acquiring a piece of land for a new service center across from Willow Lake, a wastewater treatment plant in the old part of Las Vegas. Tonight, they were holding something they were billing as a “gala” in a big white tent they had pitched on the property.

      “You can say hi yourself,” David said. “You’re going with me.”

      “What are you talking about?” I said. “I’m not going to any press conference. It’s bad enough that I have to go to the party tonight.”

      “You have to come,” David said. “Chris’s orders.”

      Just then, my phone rang. It was Chris Farr.

      “David Nussbaum needs you to help him cover a press conference, Copper. We’re in good shape here. Get David what he needs, then you can take the rest of the day off.”

      “I’ll meet you in the lobby in half an hour,” David said when Chris hung up. “The conference starts at eleven.”

      It was very, very weird. Why was the arts and entertainment editor sending his Calendar Girl to hear about the plight of Las Vegas’s homeless population? And where did David Nussbaum get off ordering me around? The guy was way too pushy, and he also talked way too loud.

      As we climbed into his Jeep, David said, “Copper, I really am covering the press conference, and I really do want you to come with me, but I also have something to tell you.”

      Weirder and weirder, I thought. David hadn’t even put the key into the ignition.

      “I had to check out a police investigation early this morning,” he said. “Down near Blue Diamond Road. A jogger found a body just before dawn. Have you heard about it?”

      “What? No.”

      David paused and locked his

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