Ashes to Dust (Las Vegas Mystery)

“Jack was standing behind Kevin with his gun in his back. So we all went into the living room and stood there staring at Jack with our guns pointed at him, until reinforcements arrived.”
    “I was sure he would shoot me,” Miller said.
    “Why?” Alice asked.
    “Because he was cheerful. As long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him happy about anything. When I saw how happy he was, I realized he was looking forward to dying—and taking me with him.”
    Snow’s eyes narrowed. “That’s right,” he said. “I never thought of that. He was laughing on the phone. I was convinced what he was doing was just a cry for help. I guess I’m fortunate not to be dead.”
    “You would have been,” Alice said. “He changed his mind at the last minute and decided to spare you. He must have liked your dumb jokes.”
    Snow nodded. “I think you’re right, Alice. Looks like I got lucky again.”
    “I’m hesitant to ask, but what was the other time?”
    “One incident that comes readily to mind,” Snow said, “was the time I tried to clean the gas burners on my stove with carburetor cleaner. It would have been okay—except I forgot about the pilot light. I couldn’t believe the house didn’t start on fire. And it was a good learning experience. Now I know what it’s like inside a combustion chamber when the spark ignites.”
    “I got you beat, Jimbo,” Ellis said. “I blew a fuse one time. It was pitch dark in there, and I didn’t have a flashlight, or even a match.” He took a sip of whiskey. “You know how when you’re replacing a spark plug and can’t see the hole it screws into—you have to feel around with your fingers while you’re holding the spark plug in the same hand. And you find the hole, but to be sure, you stick a finger in it?”
    Snow nodded, grinning.
    “I wasn’t thinking,” Ellis said. “Just a creature of habit, feeling around in the dark for the fuse socket. I think my head lit up for an instant, till I could get my finger back out of there.”
    Sally looked at Alice and shook her head.
    There was a loud pounding at the front door.
    The room got silent for a moment.
    “Good God, who was that?” Ellis said. “Godzilla?”
    “I think it’s somebody knocking down a wall next door,” Sally said.
    It came again. Louder.
    Snow got up and went to answer it. He opened the door to find a stout woman in her mid-seventies. She wore black jeans, black cowboy boots, and a black Western shirt with silver pinstripes. Her gray hair was pulled back into a ponytail, held in place with a rubber band. She was homely. Her nose looked familiar. Snow thought she resembled a female version of Johnny Cash. An instant before she spoke, he realized who she was.
    “I’m Elaine Roberts from Bakersfield,” she said. “I’m here to discuss the death of my son.”
    Snow looked her up and down.
    “Don’t worry,” she said. “I don’t have a gun with me. Are you Jim Snow?”
    “Yes, I am,” Snow said. “Why don’t you come on in?”
    She gave him a hard look. “Because you’re standing in the doorway,” she said.
    Snow stepped aside, and she brushed past him. She kept walking, her boot soles striking loudly on the laminate floor.
    “Turn right at the hallway,” Snow said, following behind.
    She entered the office and stopped just inside the doorway next to Kevin Miller. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the room.
    Standing behind her, Snow announced, “This is Elaine Roberts from Bakersfield. She’s Jack’s mother.” He was relieved to notice the bourbon bottle and cups were gone from the top of Alice’s desk.
    Ellis and Sally immediately stood up. Their eyes fixed on the woman, they stepped behind their chairs.
    “Why don’t you have a seat, ma’am?” Ellis offered. He shifted his eyes toward Jim, his eyebrows arched. “Jimbo, we’ve got to get on down the road. Need to get our tanks dumped. We thank you for your hospitality.”
    “Alice,” Sally said, “I’ll give you call. I want you to bring Jim with you to dinner one night next week.”
    Alice smiled and nodded.
    “We’ll grill some steaks,” Ellis said.
    “I’ll bring the beer,” Snow volunteered.
    “Long as it’s not that Chinese stuff,” Ellis said.
    Handshakes and hugs, and they were gone.
    Elaine Roberts turned and looked at Miller. “Good to see you again, Kevin,” she said. “Too bad it has to be circumstances such as these.”
    Miller nodded and bit his lip. “I’m sorry for