Ashes to Dust (Las Vegas Mystery)

tenant. He and his wife rent her home in North Las Vegas. Laura was scared to death of him. He’s extremely volatile—he threatened her more than once. Nothing direct—a lot of innuendoes. He’s more than three months behind in the rent. Laura had started the eviction process.”
    “How do you know about this if you hadn’t been speaking with Laura?”
    Miller crossed his arms. “We talked sometimes since the breakup. Whenever she felt like talking, or—I guess—needed someone to talk to. I think that when she was scared, she felt safer talking to a guy.”

“What do you think?” Alice said.
    Snow fired up the Sonata and looked over at her. “I have to say, I think Kevin Miller comes across like a straight shooter. I can understand why Mel thinks he had nothing to do with the murder. He seems innocent enough to me.”
    “I hate agreeing with Mel, but I was thinking the same thing. So where does that leave us?”
    “Tyson Dole. He definitely goes to the top of the list. Crystal was the last to see Laura alive, but there’s no motive with her. Except maybe PMS and an argument over whose turn it was to do the dishes.”
    Alice shook her head and rolled her eyes. “And she keeps a pair of men’s size twelve work boots sitting around to disguise her tracks in case she gets the urge to drag a body out into the desert.”
    “And then there’s Jack Roberts. No will or insurance policy on Laura. So there’s no motive other than the fact that he’s a perverted nutcase.”
    “I don’t think it’s good to talk that way about our client,” Alice said.
    “You want me to lie? I don’t know why you feel the need to defend everything he does—and coddle him.”
    “I’m not coddling him,” she argued. “I treat him with respect and try to honor his wishes because he’s our client. I’m trying to run a business here, Jim. We can’t handpick the people we want to work for, or we wouldn’t have enough of them to make a living. I don’t want to be critical of you, but you need to think about the way you treat the people who hire us. We work for them.”
    “Well, hell,” Snow said. “Alright, I guess you’re right. I’ll try to be a better person from now on.”
    Alice laughed. “Well, don’t strain yourself.”
    Snow chuckled. “Okay. What about phone records? I think we need to get a copy of Laura’s recent cell phone activity. How do we do that?”
    “Jack already has it. He started a crude investigation of his own before he decided to hire us. He called her service provider and told them she’d been murdered and he needed the information.”
    “And they gave it to him, no questions asked? I thought you needed something signed by a judge these days.”
    “He’s the next of kin. She’s dead. He gave them her full name, date of birth, social security number, address, city of birth. So they gave it to him. He said he’d e-mail the phone records to me when he gets back to his room.”
    “You think that’s where he is right now?” Snow said.
    Alice straightened in her seat and stared out through the windshield. “God only knows.”
    Silence filled the inside of the car, the two of them lost in their own thoughts.
    Finally, Alice spoke.
    “Jim, there’s something I need to ask you.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Are we going to sit here in this driveway all night?”
    “Oh, yeah,” Snow mumbled. “I knew there was something I was forgetting.” He shifted into reverse and backed onto the street.

The next morning, after a ten-mile run, a shower, soft-boiled eggs, toast, and coffee, Snow picked up his phone to call the office.
    Alice picked up on the first ring. “It’s almost nine. What are you still doing at home?”
    “Good morning, sweetheart,” Snow said. “I love you too.”
    “Seriously.”
    “Seriously, this was my morning for LSD. Two cups of coffee, and I still haven’t recovered from it.”
    “What does that stand for?”
    “Long slow distance,” he said, sipping coffee.
    “How many miles?”
    “Ten.”
    “Very good. So, you’re really going to do it this year?”
    “Just the half marathon. Not the full.”
    “That’s still impressive. You’re my hero. How long until you get here—for work?”
    “It might be a little longer before I can leave. I have some things I need to do around here before I leave.”
    “Like what?”
    “Picking out my attire for the day. I’m torn between the gray sharkskin suit with the eel-skin oxfords, or the Italian wool