Ashes to Dust (Las Vegas Mystery)

“sometimes you can be really sweet. Other times I feel like I could strangle you.” She turned her face toward him and smiled. “You’re a piece of work.”
    “I guess we should talk about that,” Snow said.
    “Your attitude?”
    Snow shook his head. “No—work. What’ve we got?”
    She braked for a light and said, “His name is Jack Roberts. He owns a convenience store in Barstow—”
    “Barstow? I’ve never met anyone from there. Never thought of anyone actually living there. Every time I drive by that area, I get the feeling the whole town is vacant. Was he raised there? Or did he move there to start a business? Who would move to Barstow to open a convenience store?”
    “I don’t know, Jim,” Alice said. “Those are questions I never thought to ask. His daughter’s name was Laura. Her body was discovered burning in the desert near Stober Road off of Charleston, east of Red Rock Canyon. A motorist on an adjacent road saw the flames, called 911. By the time the fire truck got there, the body was smoldering and unrecognizable.”
    “Right,” Snow said. “That was Tuesday night. If I remember correctly, from what I read in the paper, the victim’s roommate came home from shopping, found the living room in disarray, and called the police.”
    “Yes,” Alice said. “The body was so badly burned that the coroner had to ID the body from dental X-rays.”
    Snow turned his gaze to the front, watching the traffic pass in front of them through the intersection as he visualized a blackened corpse with a set of white teeth protruding from the shriveled skull. “So, how did this Jack Roberts from Barstow end up at our office door?”
    “This is the part you may find hardest to believe,” Alice said.
    “What?”
    “The lead detective gave him our names.”
    “Why?”
    “Apparently, Mr. Roberts was dissatisfied with the progress the police were making. He threatened to complain to the section chief. The detective talked him out of that and told him that if he wanted to initiate his own investigation, he should hire someone. He recommended us.”
    “No kidding. Who’s the detective?”
    “You’ll never guess,” Alice said.
    “Give me a hint,” Snow said.
    “Roberts called him a moron.”
    Snow chuckled. “Melvin Harris.” He dug into his front jeans pocket and brought out his cell phone. He snapped it open and began to press the buttons. “I think we’d better meet him for coffee so we can thank him properly. What do you think?”
    Alice smiled. “Yes. It’ll be good to see Mel again—from the opposite side of the table.”

    Detective Mel Harris of Metro Homicide entered the coffee shop, grinning, his exaggerated swagger resembling a rooster on the prowl. Wearing a pin-striped dress shirt, open at the collar, and cotton slacks, his black hair was combed back and firmly cemented in place. Following closely behind, and ten years younger than Harris’s forty-three, his junior partner wore a similar ensemble, along with a buzz cut. Their badges were clipped to the left side of their belts, their nine-millimeter handguns clipped to the right.
    “If it isn’t the odd couple,” Harris said. “James and James.” He approached the table Alice and Snow were seated at. As Snow stood up to shake his hand, he asked, “And which one are you?” He chuckled.
    “Good one,” Snow said. “Your wit seems to have sharpened since the last time I saw you.”
    Harris let go of Snow’s hand and nodded, his grin spreading across his face. “Glad you noticed. I’ve been working on it.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m thinking about trying for a career move. Stand-up comedy.”
    “No kidding,” Snow said. “What happened to the hamburger joint idea?”
    “I like this one better. I’ve always had a knack for humor. Everybody always tells me that. Now all I need to do is expand on that—leave my mind open to funny stuff. When something hits me, I write it down. I’m still working on my first routine. Once I get it perfected, I’m planning to try it out on a live crowd. Test the waters.” He turned his head to Alice, who was still seated at the table, her hand curled around her paper coffee cup.
    Harris spread his arms. “No hug for your former partner?”
    Alice offered a half smile and stood up, stepping around the table. Harris wrapped his arms around her, gave her torso a squeeze, and then turned to his partner, leaving one arm draped around her waist.
    “She was the best