Vanishing Act in Vegas: SILVER SISTERS MYSTERIES, #3

Silver Sisters Mysteries

Vanishing Act in Vegas

Book 3

a fast-paced, funny mystery series

By Morgan St. James and Phyllice Bradner

Copyright 2015

Second edition. All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction produced from the authors’ imagination. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any retrieval system without permission from the author and/or publisher except as part of a review or media article. No part of this publication may be sold or hired without written permission from the author or publisher.

Vanishing Act in Vegas

A fun-filled Silver Sisters escapade in Sin City. After Godiva's son Torch buys a condo in Las Vegas, his grandmother Flossie and great uncle Sterling decide to pay him a visit. When the old vaudeville magicians drag him to the Pageant of Peacocks starring sexy Mara the Magnificent, it's love at first sight. The romance blossoms but when Torch returns from a meeting in L.A., Mara seems cold and distant. Torch turns to his mother, the advice columnist, for a helping hand.

Godiva agrees to check things out during her upcoming trip to Vegas, when she joins her twin sister Goldie at a big antique expo. Flossie and Sterling tag along for a second trip to Sin City. The family gets a shock while attending Mara's show, where a stagehand dies during the performance. Police call it accidental, but Mara is convinced its murder. Torch told her about his family's uncanny ability to solve mysteries, so she begs them to investigate the death of her friend. They start to poke around in their clever but kooky fashion and uncover an even bigger mystery. This time Flossie and Sterling take the lead and when they uncover a diabolical plot they come close to doing a disappearing act of their own!

What readers are saying about Vanishing Act in Vegas...

Laughs and Murder. I love the Silver sisters and their Jewish mother, Flossie and Uncle Sterling. A wackier group of characters you will not find elsewhere. This time the sisters are off to Las Vegas to commemorate Godiva's late husband's wheel of fortune spin that made him into a multimillionaire and left Godiva a very rich widow. Of course, with retired magicians Flossie and Sterling along, and Godiva's son, Torch, now living in Vegas, the antics are plentiful and the twists and turns of the story are many. Torch has a new love in his life, who suddenly disappears. The Silver sisters are asked to help, but it's Flossie and Sterling who figure out whodunit. Don't miss this series, it's a hoot!

Barbara Martin

I thought this book looked like a fun read when I wanted to win this book in the giveaway. This book did not let me down. I enjoyed the characters and had a great time reading this book. I would read more books in this series.

Library Thing Giveaway Winner

Murder She Wrote Meets the Borscht Belt. ... This is a fun story, the Silver Family is almost impossible to dislike. Grandma Flossie and Great Uncle Sterling - two thirds of the once famous magic act The Scintillating Silvers - have that old fashioned vaudeville sensibility that makes for great screwball comedy. Twin sisters Goldie and Godiva are flamboyant and quirky in their own right - which makes it all the better when they try to be the voice of reason to the elders. ... a fun story about a quirky, oddball family of amateur sleuths running around Las Vegas then you might enjoy this book.

Devil Monkey

Excellent As Cozy Mysteries Go. Like many cozy mysteries the investigator(s) are quirky. In this case they are a pair of retired stage magicians, one of whom is the mother of twin daughters who have their own adult children. I understand that in the other books in the series the twin daughters (who are also rather quirky) are the investigators, but here it's the old retired magicians (although they still do a turn once a week for the old people in a home). And what better place to set a mystery being investigated by magicians than Las Vegas? The plot is excellent, and the crimes are unusual both in their execution and their raison d'etre, with amusing and unexpected twists and turns. Highly recommended.

Davros

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Email: marinapublishing@gmail

Email for Morgan St. James: stjameswriter@gmail.com

Website: www.marinapublishinggroup.com

Blog: silversistersmysteries.blogspot.com

This is where it all began...

Other Silver Sisters Mysteries

Morgan St. James and Phyllice Bradner

A Corpse in the Soup

Vanishing Act in Vegas

Diamonds in the Dumpster

OTHER BOOKS BY MORGAN ST. JAMES

Betrayed

Confessions of a Cougar

The Mafia Funeral and Other Short Stories

Eight Surefire Signs of a Jewish Mother

Writers Tricks of the Trade

***

OTHER BOOKS WITH CO-AUTHORS

Ripoff (co-author Caroline Rowe)

Bumping Off Fat Vinny (co-author Dennis N. Griffin)

La Bella Mafia –True Story of Bella Capo (Co-Author Dennis N. Griffin)

Incest, Murder and a Miracle: The True Story Behind the Cheryl Pierson Murder-For-Hire Headlines (Cheryl and Robert Cuccio

with Morgan St. James)

Can We Come In and Laugh, Too? (Rosetta Schwartz

with Morgan St. James)

~Chapter 1~

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A stocky woman walked across the room, carefully avoid-ing the pool of blood. She craned her neck to get a better look at the crumpled body lying face down in the middle of an Oriental carpet. Her tweed jacket, calf-length skirt and sensible shoes were in sharp contrast to the elegant fashions worn by the other guests. Lights flickered ominously, then went out, plunging the drawing room into complete darkness.

The woman rummaged around in her plain black handbag and produced a flashlight. As soon as she clicked it on, every-one gasped. The body was gone!

Flossie Silver snorted. Looks like this one’s going to be a load of hogwash, Godiva. Who thinks up such goofy plots?

Godiva Olivia DuBois threw her hands in the air. Oh calm down, Mom, give her a chance. You know they always open with something dramatic. They need a real zinger so they can wind up to that ‘aha’ moment when Mabel figures it all out. That’s what makes it so much fun.

Flossie clicked her tongue. Fun, schmun, I don’t buy it. The lights were out for less than a minute. Are we supposed to believe someone got in there and hauled the body away that quick?

Making that body disappear in a minute isn’t such a big deal. Sterling Silver grumbled, When we did our magic act, my brother Harry made you disappear every night.

Yeah, but I was alive! Dead people don’t cooperate that well, Smarty Pants.

Sterling grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Pipe down old girl. How are we supposed to see if this thing is worth watching if you keep yapping? Isn’t that right, Godiva?

Whenever they watched Mabel McBride’s Murder and May- hem, Godiva’s eighty-one year-old mother and uncle bickered and badgered each other as they tried to analyze the plots and unmask the villains. Even Godiva, who wrote a syndicated advice column, couldn’t come up with a good suggestion for harmony in her own family.

While Mabel McBride poked around the drawing room looking for clues, Flossie, Sterling and Godiva settled back in their cushy leather armchairs, eyes focused on the big screen TV in one corner of the massive family room. Just as the British detective located a scrap of torn fabric, Godiva’s son Torch blasted in.

Whoa! Are you three still watching that show? I thought it was only on for an hour. I swear, you guys are addicted to those stuffy British mysteries.

It’s a Murder Marathon, honey. Four in a row. This is the last one. Grandma and Uncle Sterling are having a hot debate about whether this one has any merit.

Torch shrugged. I know the answer to that one.

The commercial came on, and Sterling turned off the sound. Torch, you have no appreciation for good old-fash-ioned acting. If things don’t crash or burn or blow up, then they’re just not worth anything to you.

You got that right, Unk. Face it, I’m an FX man. That’s how I make my living. You, of all people, should appreciate that. After all, you gave me my nickname.

Damn near burned the garage down when you were a kid. It’s hard to believe they pay you to do that now.

"Yeah, if you told me when I was a kid that setting fires would earn me big bucks, I wouldn’t have believed you. Now I’ve got this great contract with Las Vegas Blowout and I’ve made enough money to actually buy my own place there. Imagine, a ritzy condo in the High Rollers Plaza—fantastic views of the Strip and most of my neighbors are hipsters from Hollywood. Add that to being the Special Effects Director on a hit TV show, and I’m floatin’ on cloud nine."

Oh, boy, Flossie sighed, with all that excitement, you’ll probably never come home to see your boring old family.

Actually Grammy, I’m gonna miss living here on the ‘old homestead’ with you guys, but you’ve gotta go where the job is. I promise to come back here to visit when I can.

Before heading out, he looked around lovingly at the Beverly Hills mansion built by his late father, self-made millionaire Max DuBois.

He winked at Godiva. Well, Mom, the last of my stuff is loaded and I just wanted to say goodbye before I take off.

She kissed him on the cheek, sensing that her son couldn’t wait to hotfoot it out the door and begin his life as a swinging bachelor.

Sterling turned the sound back on, but Flossie grabbed the remote and turned it off again. She looked at her grandson and smiled sweetly. "So, tottelah, your Uncle Sterling and I will be there in two, maybe three days. You know your uncle is afraid to fly so we’ll just tune up the Caddy tomorrow and be on our way."

Whaa–? Torch stared at her blankly.

Torch, honey, you’ll need help getting things in order, and no one does that better than your Uncle Sterling and me. I’ll set up your closets and kitchen and cook some good Jewish meals for your freezer and Uncle Sterling can putter around and help you hang pictures and do little odd jobs.

Torch looked to his mother in desperation.

Flossie jumped up and tweaked him on the cheek. Look, Sterling, he’s so happy we’re coming, he’s speechless. Good thing you bought a three bedroom. I guess we’ll stay for three or four days. Who knows, maybe longer if we get lucky. Magic acts are big in Vegas again.

Sterling punched the remote and turned up the sound on Mabel McBride.

Torch choked out, Mom-m-m—

~Chapter 2~

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Godiva watched with a mixture of compassion and curiosity as Torch tried to wiggle out of the sticky situation. Grammy he ventured, it’s no picnic driving through the desert, you know. It would be too much of a trip for you and Uncle Sterling in that ’59 Caddy. I mean, it’s even older than you guys, if you count it in car years.

That old Cadillac is stronger than your fancy sports car any day, Flossie pouted. Besides, those big fins are—what do you call it—aerodynamic! Old Betsy can zip through the desert just like a rocket ship.

Godiva recognized her mother’s look of fierce determination immediately, but Torch gave it one more try before he surrendered. Aw, c’mon Grams, wouldn’t it be better to wait until I’m settled? Maybe Mom would consider driving you there in a couple of months.

Godiva bristled. Now Torch, you know there’s no way I’m going to make that boring five hour drive through the desert when I can fly first-class and be there in under an hour. I know Uncle Sterling hates to fly, so maybe you can drive him there next time you visit.

Flossie threw her hands in the air and spoke to her grandson as though he were still a kid. "Torch, darling, you’re talking such nonsense. This is your first big move. You don’t know a thing about setting up a household and I want to make sure you have a few tsotchkes spread around to make you feel like you really live there."

Torch rolled his eyes in defeat, "No tsotchkes, Grams! Except, of course, for this," he held up the Oscar he won for special effects in the sci-fi film The Legend of Zork. I’m just taking this out to the car with the last load of stuff, then I’m off.

Well, that’s settled. So, we’ll see you in a few days. The old woman patted her brother-in-law’s arm and said, Don’t worry about Sterling, he’s a fine driver and we’ll get Betsy in tip-top condition before we head your way.

Sterling harrumphed as Godiva and Flossie dragged him out to the pillared front portico to wave goodbye. They watched Torch tuck the last few things in the rented SUV. His Porsche was already in Vegas, and this rental vehicle was crammed with items he hadn’t trusted to the movers.

Torch turned the key in the ignition and they all waved goodbye. It was hard for them to accept the reality that the little boy who once played with fire was a man now and would be on his own in Sin City.

As they turned back to the house, Godiva tried to talk them out of making the long drive and invading Torch’s new bachelor pad. This time Flossie said, Quit worrying, Godiva. We’ll stop along the way. It’s been a long time since we had a fun road trip, hasn’t it Sterling?

Listen, old girl, it’s been a while since I’ve had fun at anything, Sterling replied.

Godiva cringed when her mother said, "C’mon, old Grumpy, where’s your sense of adventure? We could take Route 66 and stop off in Barstow or Laughlin. They say Laughlin’s like the old Las Vegas, before they built all the schmaltzy hotels."

Godiva watched as Uncle Sterling perked up and actually looked interested. He rubbed his chin and said thoughtfully, That’s really quite an idea, Flossie. We could stay overnight in Barstow and maybe Laughlin, too. You know, split up the drive. We’ll take two, or even three days. Torch can wait that long for his shelves to be lined. I heard there’s a dandy Route 66 museum around Victorville somewhere. You know, I’m really starting to like this idea.

They made a few more plans while Mable McBride searched for more clues. When she solved the mystery, they flicked off the TV and the oldsters decided it was time for a late afternoon nap. Excited about their upcoming trip, the old troupers locked arms and did a rickety shuffle off to Buffalo while singing a line from an old song about getting kicks on Route 66. Flossie gave an extra little kick as they danced through the door and headed back to their cottages on the grounds of the estate.

As Godiva slumped into one of the comfortable chairs she felt the weight of a shaggy head in her lap followed by Waldo the Wonder Dog’s soft doggie snuffling. He gazed up at her with questioning eyes and murmured, Torrrchhh?

Oh, Waldo, you’re going to miss him, aren’t you? Don’t worry, tomorrow is Thursday and you get to go to the Home for Hollywood Has-Beens with Mom and Unk. The old folks there love you so much. They think you really know how to talk—well, maybe you do.

Godiva felt the need to touch base with her twin sister Goldie. After all, Goldie was the sensible one. Maybe she could talk Flossie and Sterling out of this foolish road trip before they found themselves broken down in Barstow. She lifted the phone while Waldo settled at her feet.

~Chapter 3~

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Godiva had a mental image of her sister answering the clunky black rotary telephone at the rear of her antique shop in Juneau. Fluffing her shiny silver hair she would say sweetly, Hi Godiva. What’s up? I had a feeling you’d be calling soon. The Moon is in Mars and your horoscope spelled trouble today.

When Goldie answered the phone with almost those exact words, her twin was prepared with a reply. Glad you were on my wave length, Sis. Torch just stuffed the last of his things in the car and headed out to Vegas. Guess what brilliant idea Mom came up with?

I can’t imagine. What is it this time? Better spit it out.

"Well, Mom convinced Uncle Sterling to drive the Caddy to Las Vegas so she can help Torch set up his new condo. Oh God, Goldie, she’ll try to turn his avant garde bachelor pad into a stage set from Arsenic and Old Lace. She wants to fill his freezer with chicken soup and noodle kugel, so he won’t starve–"

Well, you must admit, Torch could stand to put a little meat on his bones.

Godiva ignored the comment, That’s not all. She’s convin-ced Unk that he has to hang pictures and stuff. You know what a klutz Uncle Sterling is. He’ll probably hit his thumb with a hammer and wind up in the emergency room.

Wait a minute, Goldie said, Did you say they were going to drive the Caddy to Vegas?

Bingo! You’ve finally got the message. Oh, Goldie, what am I going to do?

She could hear Goldie’s deep breath on the other end. Then her sister said in a calm voice, Maybe nothing, Sis. Maybe the car will break down before they get out of L.A.

Not a chance. You know Uncle Sterling keeps it in tip-top condition. They’re going to take it into Moishe’s Motors and get it tuned up tomorrow.

And just how do our eighty-year-old adventurers plan to handle a drive like that?

Oh, they’ve got it all figured out. They want to drive Route 66 of all things. They’re going to split it up by staying in Bar-stow one night and Laughlin the next. It adds extra miles but Mom’s as excited as a kid in a candy shop. Even Uncle Sterling thinks it will be fun.

He does? Three days in a car with Mom? Has he lost his mind?

Not yet, but he will have by the time he pulls into Las Vegas.

And what do they plan to do when they get there? Goldie said skeptically.

They expect to stay in Torch’s spare rooms and gussy up his new place. They want to go to a couple of shows—magic, of course—and they said they would like to hook up with Mara the Magnificent.

Who?

You know, that sexy magician we met at the Icons of Illusion banquet in Seattle. The one who said Daddy was her inspiration.

Oh, Mara, sure, I remember. She told Unk if they were ever in Las Vegas she would get them comp tickets to her show at—what was it—the Glitz Palace? You know, Godiva, this might be hard on Torch, but maybe you should just let them do it. How much trouble can they get into?

Godiva sighed and said under her breath, Boy, Sis, that’s a loaded question. Look up ‘trouble’ in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of the Silver family.

Hey, speaking of Las Vegas, Goldie’s voice rose an octave, isn’t it almost time for you to make your yearly trip to the Diamond Slipper in Max’s memory? Next month, if I remember correctly. You always put that silver dollar in the Wheel of Fortune just like he did. Too bad you don’t have his luck.

His luck? You mean to drop dead right in the middle of the casino?

Sorry, I didn’t mean that part—I was thinking of the part just before that when he hit the jackpot.

Poor Max! His last words on earth were, ‘Won five million on a buck,’ and then his heart gave out. Godiva sighed, remem-bering how she was left on her own to raise her six-year-old son, Thomas, with only four servants, three acres in Beverly Hills, and other holdings worth slightly less than thirty-five million.

Yes, you’re right, Goldie, I will be going to Vegas soon to pay my annual homage to Max. I want to see Torch’s new place. Of course I won’t be crashing there, like Mom and Unk. I’ll stay in a suite at Caesars Palace.

"So, how would you like some company? I was thinking of going to the Whopping World of Antiques Expo at the Sands Convention Center. I could meet you there. It would be fun. I can get a room at the Buckaroo for only $69 a night, and you can treat me to some shows and a few of those great buffets. What do you think?"

The Buckaroo? Goldie, do you have any idea what kind of seedy flophouse that is? My assistant Angel stayed there last year and said even the bedbugs and cockroaches think twice before moving in. She decided the savings weren’t worth it and checked out the next day.

Well, there’s no point in spending money extravagantly, Goldie said. It couldn’t be any worse than the Moose Drop Inn on the road to Fairbanks. After all, it’s just a place to sleep.

Goldie, you’ve been living in Alaska way too long. This isn’t a camping trip in the outback, with nothing but bears to worry about. No sister of mine is going to stay at a dangerous place like the Buckaroo. Besides, we’re twins. What if someone saw you there and thought it was me?

Her sister feigned shock. I can’t think of anything worse, Sis. They would probably think you lost your fortune at the tables.

Okay, then it’s settled. I’ll have Angel book a two bed-room suite for us at Caesars. That way, all you’ll have to take care of is your plane ticket, and you would have paid for that anyway. They agreed to talk in a few days to firm up plans.

As she was about to hang up, Godiva said, Wait, I’ve got to read you this goofy letter Angel found in yesterday’s mail. It’s a real hoot. I’m going to use it in my advice column next week.

She carried the phone into the mahogany-paneled study, now the nerve center for Ask G.O.D., reached into the