Page 36 of Barristers & Bones

He rolled his eyes. “You’re the most mouthy, disrespectful intern I’ve ever met.”

“When you wouldn’t release me from this internship, I tried to warn you.”

We reached the chapel just off Las Vegas Boulevard and Clark Avenue. Its rustic wood barn exterior, with the old wagon and ancient hitching post out front, clashed spectacularly with the sleek commercial buildings around it.

I turned to Roman. “How do you know the owner?”

“Heath Cassidy is a friend of Gideon’s. Heath worked with him at the FBI for a few years before Gideon quit.”

“Gideon worked for the FBI? That explains a lot about him. Do you want me to sit in on the meeting or make myself scarce?” I really just wanted to walk around and find an employee to chat up.

“It’s likely you can sit in. But if you do wander around, don’t let me find you with your skirt hiked around your waist this time.”

I shook my head. “That’s not going to happen, I’m wearing pants today.”

He grunted skeptically. The building was just as rustic and western on the inside, with scarred wood floors and wooden beams. Western memorabilia hung along the walls, and I noticed an extensive collection of antiques from various saloons and brothel houses. I stood entranced as I took in the exhibit.

It was like a miniature Old West museum crossed with a Las Vegas wedding chapel. The back half of the building had been split into two chapel halls, but the walls looked retractable, probably to accommodate larger events. I could hear muffled voices and wedding music coming from one of the chapels.

A broad-shouldered man with an impressive dark blond handlebar mustache came out of the front office to greet us. He wore a black cowboy hat, jeans, and a gray tweed vest. He even smelled like leather and cigar smoke.

“Roman,” he grunted. “You sumbitch. Thanks for coming out this morning. Who’s this with you?”

Sumbitch?I mouthed to Roman.

Roman’s lip quirked and he introduced us. “She’s my law student intern. Luna, this is Heath Cassidy.”

Heath turned to get another look at me. “Aw, honey. Why do you want to be a lawyer?”

“So I can protect myself.” I hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but Heath just nodded sagely and patted my shoulder with his big, scarred hand. Roman tilted his head as if my answer had surprised him. It had surprised me too.

He turned to Roman. “I have a wedding to officiate soon, so let’s talk. Luna, come with us.” I looked back longingly at the brothel antiques along the back wall, but walked into his office behind Roman.

“What can I help you with that couldn’t wait until Monday?” Roman asked.

Heath smirked. “You’re a damn workaholic, Fowler. I knew you’d be working today, so don’t give me your shit. I’ve got two issues. I need your investigation team to do a background check on my accountant. I think he’s embezzling, but I’d like to know for certain. The other is a nuisance lawsuit a man filed who got married at my chapel a few months ago.”

“What’s the lawsuit about?” Roman asked.

Heath rolled his eyes. “He’s sayin’ he didn’t know the marriage would be legally binding.”

Roman scoffed. “That’s definitely a nuisance lawsuit, and the man is an idiot. No judge in Clark County will rule in favor of a case like that. Las Vegas makes too much money on those quick, ‘drive-thru’ weddings to jeopardize that cash cow. We’ll counter-sue and request attorney fees. Email Gideon the Petition, and I’ll get someone on it next week. I’ll also have Ivan look into your accountant.”

Heath grimaced. “That saying ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ is complete horseshit, pardon my French. Marriages, gambling debts, sexually transmitted diseases, and a bucket load of bad decisions follow people home. I love Sin City, but you can’t leave your common sense at the State line when you come here and expect not to have a few rattlesnake bites when you get home.”

Roman nodded. “Half the attorneys in town make a living off those bad decisions. Anything else?”

When Heath shook his head, I leaned forward. “If you’re done discussing legal issues, can I ask you a few questions?”

“Sure thing. Shoot.” Heath smiled, and I realized how handsome he was. The man even had dimples.

Roman bumped my leg, and I shook myself. “Where did you get your amazing brothel house memorabilia, and has anyone cataloged it? Who are the most interesting people that have been married here? You have more of a southwestern accent.”

Heath leaned forward, grinned, and fired answers back at me. “The collection is mostly from my great-great-grandmammy. She was a working girl and then a madam in a brothel in Virginia City. I’ve added to it over the years, and it’s only been partially cataloged.”

“Wow. That’s fascinating family history.”

He absently twirled his handlebar mustache between his thumb and forefinger. “Yep, it is. The most interesting person who’s been married here was one of the Rat Pack in the 1970s. The marriage lasted three months, it was before my time, and my uncle performed the ceremony. I grew up in Whetstone, Arizona, just outside of Tombstone.”

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