Mistletoe And Murder In Las Vegas - Plot & Excerpts
When he and Maggie entered the front room, whose couch would be Mike’s bed, he saw his granddad staring out the floor-to-ceiling window. He’d changed into a fresh plaid shirt, khaki pants and Velcro-leather slip-ons. He turned to Mike and grinned. “Kid, this place is like the Ritz!” “Happy almost-birthday, Granddad.” He crossed to a small table next to the kitchenette-bar as Maggie settled onto her doggie bed in a corner of the living room. “Got us some lunch.” “This view from the twenty-sixth floor,” his granddad continued, “gives a bird’s eye of Strip.” Mike felt lousy about how he’d handled his visit to Joanne Galvin’s office, but it gave him a boost seeing Archie so happy. Although the Jackpot Hotel and Casino was hardly the Ritz. Built sixty years ago, it looked its age with worn carpets, walls the color of faded green-felt casino tables and faux-marble cherub statutes everywhere, some with ashtrays on top of their heads.
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