Lost in Las Vegas Read online




  Lost in Las Vegas

  A Frost & Crowe Mystery

  Kristen Painter

  Lost in Las Vegas

  In this new Jayne Frost and Sinclair Crowe mystery, a royal road trip takes the Princess and Prince Consort of the North Pole all the way to Las Vegas.

  And even though they’re in Sin City on official business, it doesn’t take long for trouble to find them. Trouble that’s very close to home. In fact, Sinclair’s entire family is gambling on him and Jayne figuring out what’s gone dangerously wrong with the cool new magic trick at the end of his parents’ show.

  Thankfully, they have help from a few friends and a pair of talking cats. But how many times can they roll the dice before time runs out?

  Lost in Las Vegas:

  A Frost & Crowe Mystery

  Copyright © 2020 Kristen Painter

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-941695-62-3

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  Table of Contents

  LOST IN LAS VEGAS

  About the Book

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kristen Painter

  Many thanks to…

  Chapter One

  Sinclair

  Was there a more beautiful woman in the world than my Jayne?

  Not possible. At least not to me. Over my second cup of coffee, I watched her as she got another helping of blueberry pancakes from the breakfast buffet set up by palace staff.

  She still had that half-awake thing going on where her hair was a little rumpled and her eyes were only half-opened, but it charmed me to no end. And while I would have been fine still being in bed with her, starting the day with her parents had become our new routine.

  I didn’t mind it. I didn’t mind any of this new life. I loved it, actually.

  Marrying her was the best thing I’d ever done. Of course, it might also be argued that my decision to move to Nocturne Falls and open up a doughnut shop could actually be the best thing I’d ever done because that’s what led to meeting her. Either way, Jayne was definitely the most incredible person I’d ever known. Beautiful, talented, funny, sweet, and mine.

  Not to diminish my parents in any way. My parents were great people. Wonderful, loving, supportive. Everything you could want in a mother and father. Just like Jayne’s parents were everything I could have hoped for as in-laws. They’d welcomed me in with such love and warmth that I’d never for one moment felt like I wasn’t a part of the family.

  I guess I just never imagined married life would be so cool. Not to make a winter elf pun or anything, seeing as how that’s what she was. She was also heir to the Winter Throne, which could not be overlooked since it made her an actual princess.

  Technically, marrying her had made me royal too. Prince Consort. That was my title. Me, a necromancer, actual royalty. Sure, it was by marriage, but still. How crazy was that? Even more amazing was that Jack Frost, her father and the Winter King, had made a special decree giving my parents the titles of Lord and Lady.

  If that wasn’t a gracious gesture, then such things didn’t exist. I don’t believe my mother has ever been so tickled by anything in her life. But then if marriage could make a necromancer into a Prince Consort, it wasn’t much of a stretch that a royal decree could make a zombie into a Lady. Lady Lila Crowe. It did have a nice ring to it.

  I sipped my coffee, watching as Jayne poured blueberry syrup over those blueberry pancakes. A lot of syrup. So Jayne. If a little was good, a lot was better. Death and ruin, I loved that woman. There was no way not to smile.

  About everything, really.

  Life in the palace was incredibly good. Our new apartment within the palace had been finished while we’d been on our three-week honeymoon (one week on an Alaskan cruise, one week in Vegas with my folks, then a week in Hawaii) and the place was great.

  We wanted for nothing. Part of being royalty, I suppose. No one would expect to live in a palace and be miserable. At least not because of lack of creature comforts. Even our cats, Spider and Sugar, had a big, brand-new, custom cat condo for them to lounge around on and look out the windows.

  But despite all that goodness, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little bored. I hated to even think that way. To even let that word enter my brain. It felt wrong. Like I wasn’t appreciating all the wonderful stuff around me. But life felt a little too easy. And maybe, if I was really being honest, part of me felt like I was getting away with something. Like I didn’t quite deserve all this luxury and poshness that I’d fallen into.

  Many times I’d mulled the idea of opening up a new doughnut shop. It would be great to get my hands in dough again and put the old brain to work on creating new flavor combinations. But I wasn’t sure how that idea would fly. Royals lived by a different set of standards.

  They didn’t seem to work unless it was directly related to running the kingdom or some kind of charitable pursuit. Now, of course, in the case of Jayne’s uncle, things were different. He definitely worked.

  But then he was Santa Claus. Toys and all that were his business. I supposed if I did something adjacent to that aspect of things, it would be okay. His wife, Martha, was making a name for herself with her eggnog fudge now that it was being sold in the Santa’s Workshop Toy Stores. But how did I make doughnuts work with toys?

  It didn’t really compute.

  So as much as I would have loved having another doughnut shop, I didn’t want to rock the boat either. Not with how wonderful things were. I was not going to be the fly in the ointment, so to speak. But I knew I was going to have to find something to keep my brain more active. I needed the daily challenge the doughnut shop had provided.

  And I had to figure out how to get that challenge without letting Jayne know what was going on. Not yet, anyway. I twisted my wedding ring around my finger.

  I hated that she might think I didn’t like it here because that wasn’t the truth. I loved the North Pole. It was the most magical place I’d ever lived. Second only to Las Vegas, which was a very different kind of magic. Okay and third to Nocturne Falls, also a very different kind of magic.

  Maybe what it all boiled down to was that I just wasn’t used to wo
rking so little to get so much. It felt unbalanced. Which led me back to feeling not quite deserving and a touch guilty. Clearly, I had some issues to deal with.

  But how did I deal with them without making everyone else around me suffer? Maybe I should call my dad. He was a great sounding board and had never steered me wrong. Same thing with my mom, really. She was more of a listener and a soother, which I loved, but my dad was always happy to make suggestions. Usually very good ones.

  Jayne came back with her plate, smiling at me. “You look pensive.”

  I smiled back. “Just trying to decide if I should have a second apple-cranberry turnover.”

  She leaned in and kissed me. “You definitely should. They’re one of the kitchen’s best pastries.” She took her seat, flicking her napkin out over her lap. “But that’s not really what you were thinking about, was it?”

  Did she know me that well? “I might have had a few other things on my mind.”

  She cut a bite of pancake, delicately stabbing her fork into it. She yawned and blinked a few times. “Like what?”

  I leaned in. “Like how adorable you are before you’re fully awake.”

  She laughed. “Sure.”

  I pretended to be aghast. “You don’t believe me?”

  She ate her pancakes. “I just know that look, and it means there’s something else going on in your head.”

  I shrugged. “I think you’re confusing it with my I-need-another-cup-of-coffee look.” I picked up my cup and got to my feet. “Be right back.”

  Her father seemed to have the same idea, meeting me at the urn. I let him go first. He was the king, after all.

  He gave me a nod of thanks. “Do you have much planned for the day?”

  I took a breath before answering, choosing my words carefully but being honest. “Not as much as I’d like.”

  He nodded again, like he understood. “You’ll find a rhythm.”

  As he moved his full cup out of the way, I put mine under the spigot. “I hope so.” The second that sentence left my mouth, I realized how ungrateful it sounded. “I mean, I’m sure I will.”

  Jack eyed me with the kind of searching gaze I’d seen in Jayne on several occasions. His voice was low and plainly meant to keep this conversation between us. “I know this is a very different life than what you’re used to.”

  I smiled, maybe bigger than necessary. “It is, but I love it.”

  Jack smiled in return. “You love Jayne.”

  “I do.”

  “The rest will come. You’ll see.” He left me to fix my coffee and to think about what he’d said. Did he know what I was struggling with? Or was he just good at guessing? I had no idea.

  I could only be thankful he was so understanding. The last thing I wanted was to upset the father of my bride.

  And not just because he was the king of my new homeland.

  Chapter Two

  Jayne

  Seeing my dad and my husband talk like old friends made my heart happy. Well, happier. I was already pretty much on Cloud Nine. I was a newlywed, after all. If you couldn’t be blissful as a newlywed, there was something wrong with you. Just saying.

  And being married to Sin was so much more than I’d ever imagined could happen to me. He was the best guy ever. Sweet and handsome and so smart, loved cats, loved me, was kind and generous, had incredible parents, could talk to the dead, and had no problems with my constant need for sugar and Dr Pepper.

  Also, so hot. Like next-level hot.

  The man was a keeper. And I had no plans on ever letting him go. Ever. Did I say ever? Because I meant it.

  Which was why I had to figure out what was bothering him. Call it a wife’s intuition, but something wasn’t quite right with my guy. And that bothered me. I wanted him to be as happy as I was. Or at least as happy as a necromancer could be.

  It couldn’t be me that was causing him to get all introspective. We were too much in love with each other for him to be upset at something I’d done. Besides, we hadn’t done much of anything lately. Except for, you know, husband and wife kind of stuff.

  That made me smile again.

  So if it wasn’t me, what was it? Could he be missing his folks? We’d had such a great visit with them. Tons of fun, lots of great meals, plenty of laughter and a little sightseeing for me since I’d never been to Vegas before. Maybe our visit had made him realize how much he missed spending time with them.

  For a second, I wondered if I should invite them up again, but I knew they were getting ready to debut a new finale trick in their Las Vegas show, Dead Sexy. There was no way they’d take a break from rehearsing to come for a visit. I wasn’t even sure they could. I knew they stuck to a pretty rigid schedule.

  And really, it wouldn’t be right of me to expect them to drop everything. Their show was a mega-hit on the Strip. I’d seen it for myself on our weeklong visit there.

  Hands down, the coolest, craziest live performance I’d ever seen. Not that I’d seen a lot of live Vegas shows. Or any. But that didn’t detract from how jaw-droppingly wild it was with its combination of amazing magic with a little Walking Dead flavor and some mystical vibes thrown in. And that was with my full knowledge that Sin’s dad, Anson, was a gifted conjurer, and his mom, Lila, was an actual zombie.

  Imagine what it must seem like to the regular Joe off the street who didn’t know the main performers were supernaturals. No wonder they packed the house every night.

  But that was just more reason why asking them to put everything on hold was basically impossible. They couldn’t walk away from the show.

  Which brought me back to Sin. What was troubling him? He obviously didn’t want to tell me. Or at least it wasn’t something he was interested in discussing with my parents in earshot.

  I knew I should let it go, but… I couldn’t. The love of my life was upset about something. It wasn’t in me to ignore that.

  I worried that pushing him to talk might only upset him more. He’d come to me when he was ready, right? I had to believe that.

  He returned with a fresh cup of coffee and took his spot next to me.

  My mom was spreading pink grapefruit marmalade on her toast. “Sinclair, would you like to tour the new ribbon factory with me today?”

  He looked at her. “I, uh—”

  “I was kind of hoping he’d help me in the apartment today, Mom.” I knew touring the ribbon factory wasn’t going to be high on his list of things to do, although it was kind of my mom to include him. “We really need to get our closet organized.”

  “It’s true,” Sin said. “Jayne’s stuff keeps creeping onto my side.”

  My mom laughed. “She’ll have the whole thing if you don’t watch it. Yes, you’d better work on that. Wait.” She stopped laughing. “I thought you each had a closet in that new apartment?”

  “We do,” Sin answered. “Jayne has one and I have one that Jayne shares with me.”

  My father snorted. “Sounds about right.”

  My mother gave him a look before answering. “Well, Sinclair, don’t worry about it. You can see the ribbon factory anytime.”

  He sent me a grateful glance before responding. “I certainly appreciate you including me in that, though.”

  “Of course.” She went back to her toast and the About Town section of the Pole Post, the North Pole’s newspaper.

  Under the table, Sin gave my leg a little squeeze. “Have I told you how much I love you?”

  I grinned at him. “Not in the last five minutes.”

  My mom looked up from the newspaper, smiled, then went back to reading about who’d been seen where.

  Sin nodded at the pancakes left on my plate. “Finish those and we’ll get to work on that closet.”

  I harpooned a fluffy triangle of blueberry goodness. “Maybe you could move all your stuff to the linen closet.”

  He laughed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  I nodded as I chewed. “You only ever wear black jeans, a black or gray T-shirt and your le
ather jacket.”

  “Not true,” he said, crossing his arms over his gray T-shirt. “I also sometimes wear a white T-shirt. Or black turtlenecks or sweaters.”

  “Ah, yes.” I held my fork up for added punctuation. “Your sweater collection. Of three sweaters. Why did you need your own closet again?”

  He laughed, and across from me, my dad shook his head. He looked at my mom. “Like mother, like daughter.” He lifted his cup in Sin’s direction. “Give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile.”

  Sin winked at me. “It’s a good thing she’s cute.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Hey, I’m more than cute.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  I finished my last bite, wiped the syrup off my face with my napkin, then set it on the table beside my plate. “All right. Let’s go work on that closet.” I nodded at my parents. “See you guys later.”

  “Have a good day, honey,” my mom said.

  “You, too.”

  My father gave us a nod over the top of the sports section. He was sponsoring a crawler team this year, exhibition only, but that didn’t stop him from checking the finishing times against the other competitors. Crawlers were the snowmobile-car hybrid vehicles we used to get around in the North Pole.

 

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