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I double-check the address on file for Christine Easterbrook. “This is it.”

“What did she do at the casino?” Randy asks.

“She worked at the reception desk,” I reply.

“How much do you pay your workers?” Randy asks Rattler.

Rattler snorts. “Not this much. Maybe she had roommates or family money.”

“I know she was attending UNLV. I saw her in the breakroom several times, and she was always studying,” I said.

“So, she was a student and a receptionist, but lived here?” Randy asks, looking up at the building. “We’ll need to look into her financials. In the meantime, let’s talk to the building manager.”

I climb out of the car and join the men as we walk toward the entrance. When we enter, Randy leads us to the reception desk that stretches along the far wall. Behind it are two employees in matching blazers. Randy holds up his badge and addresses them both.

“I’m Officer Randy Sterling with the LVMPD, and I need to speak to your officer manager about a tenant.”

The woman nods as she lifts the receiver and presses a button. “Ms. Lindsey, there are three police officers out here who would like to speak with you about a tenant.” She pauses to listen before flicking her eyes to Randy. “Who is the tenant?”

“Christine Easterbrook,” Randy supplies.

I see confusion cross over the woman’s face before she relays the name to Ms. Lindsey. Yes, ma’am, they’re in the lobby. Of course.” After she replaces the receiver on the base, she addresses Randy. “Ms. Linsey will be right out.”

“Thank you.”

We don’t have to wait long before an older woman joins us in the lobby. She’s dressed similarly to the other two employees. She gives each of us a firm handshake as Randy introduces us before he delves into the reason why we asked to see her.

“One of our residents did have a Christine Easterbrook living with him, but she moved out a few weeks ago. May ask what this is about?”

“We believe Ms. Easterbrook is a victim of foul play. We know of several women who have gone missing over the past month, and we believe she may be one of them. We want to speak with the owner of the condo where she lived to see if they can provide additional information about her.”

Ms. Linsey chews on her bottom lip as she considers our request. “I remember Ms. Easterbrook, she was a beautiful and friendly girl, but I have to respect the privacy of our residents. You understand.”

“Could you contact the resident and explain why we’re here? Maybe they’ll want to speak with us if they know she could be in danger.”

Ms. Linsey nods slowly before turning on her heel to retreat into her office. A few minutes later, she returns and gestures for us to follow her. When we reach a bank of elevators, she takes out a key and inserts it into the lock, twisting it. “Mr. Stryker said he will meet with you. He’s in Penthouse 3. This elevator will take you directly there.”

The elevator whooshes us up quickly. When the doors open, a handsome man in his early thirties is waiting for us. He gestures for us to come inside. My eyes immediately go to the spectacular view, and I completely miss the introductions. Randy has to call my name several times before I turn my back to the wall of windows and focus on the men. I feel my face pink as I hold out my hand for the man to shake. “Sorry, it’s just your view is…” I seriously don’t have any words to describe it.

“Stunning? I agree,” Taylor Stryker provides with a grin. “I saw that view and took the place before I even looked at the rest of the condo. Lorraine said you wanted to talk to me about Christine. I’m not sure what I can tell you. She moved out two weeks ago, and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“You two were living together?” Randy asks.

Taylor nods. “We were. She’d been living here for six months. I met her at the 1% Casino, where she was working as a hotel receptionist.” He glances at the Rattler’s kutte before turning his attention back to Randy. “I was waiting to meet a client, and we started talking. We connected. I don’t know how to put it into words. I meet attractive women all the time, but work always comes first for me, until I met her. When my client arrived, I hurried through our meeting so I could get back to her. I couldn’t remember the discussion with the client, but I remember every word Christine spoke that day.”

“How long did you date before you moved in together?” Randy asks.

“Not long. I learned she was attending UNLV and struggling financially. I shamelessly used her money troubles to convince her to move in with me. Took me some time, but she finally agreed. I tried to convince her to quit her job at 1%, but she refused. She also refused to allow me to pay for her schooling and books. She was very proud, which is how I lost her.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“She told me someone at work was bothering her. Like an asshole, I went down there to play the white knight, which was not what she wanted. I made a scene, and security escorted me out. I can’t blame them. Christine was livid. We had a terrible fight. The next day, she moved out. She stopped taking my calls, and I discovered she quit her job at 1%. I lost her.”

“You said she moved out? Did she pack her things and leave?” Randy asks.

“No. She sent three of her friends to pack her stuff. They refused to tell me where she went. They said she was done with me and had asked them to pack her stuff up and move it for her so she didn’t have to face me.”

Randy and Rattler share a look before Randy returns his attention to Taylor. “Can you describe them?”