Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner: A Ghost Writer Mystery Read Free Page B

she really get banned?”
    “Oh yeah. Don’t act surprised. She’s a card shark.”
    “Now I know where you get it from,” he said.
    “I learned from the best.”
    “Thank you for making sure my grandfather gets home safe.”
    “My pleasure. I’m fond of the old guy.”
    “Want to have dinner when you get back?” he suggested.
    “If I have the time.”
    “All right, we have a flight out at seven in the morning. You better go home and pack an overnight bag. Put in enough for two days and nights, just in case.”
    “I’m actually looking forward to this,” I said. “I’ve never been to Vegas before.”
    Little did I know, by the time everything was said and done, I was going to wish I had never gone to Las Vegas.

 
    Chapter 3
    Tuesday
     
     
    I ’m not a morning person, so getting to the airport at five a.m., with only five hours of sleep, left me very grouchy. By the time we arrived in Las Vegas just after eight, I was hungry, too.
    We rented a car and drove to Caesar’s Palace. I wanted to hit the Bacchanal Buffet as soon as we walked in the door, but Dad wanted to check into our rooms first. Thirty minutes later, we finally entered the dining area, and the first thing I saw was Grandma Alma and Walt sitting at a table. I grabbed Dad’s arm and pointed. “Let’s get some food first, and then we’ll sit down with them,” he said.
    I liked the way his mind worked, and followed him over to the buffet. There were so many things to choose from that I had a hard time deciding what to eat. But I figured I could always come back for seconds, so I quickly filled my plate, and walked over to the newlyweds’ table.
    “Well, well, what a surprise!” Grandma Alma said as we sat down across from them. “What brings you two to Vegas?”
    “Really, Mom? You’re seriously going to ask me that?” Dad said. “You’re the one that eloped to Vegas, got banned from playing poker in two casinos, and you want to know why we’re here?”
    “Pete ratted us out,” she pouted.
    “Not exactly,” I said. “I asked him nicely where you were at…”
    “After Mike threatened to throw Pete in jail if he didn’t tell him where you were,” Dad said.
    “My grandson did that?” Walt frowned. “I’m going to have a talk with that young man when I get home.”
    “I took care of it,” I told him. “I’m the one that broke Pete out. That’s why he told me where you were at.”
    “What a good girl you are,” Walt said.
    “And where’s my daughter?”
    “Planning a wedding reception for you,” Dad said.
    “How wonderful!” Grandma Alma clapped her hands. “I do hope she’s going to make those little Mexican wedding cookies. I just love those!”
    “Let’s not worry about that right now,” Dad said. “We need to make reservations to go home.”
    “Oh, but we can’t go home today,” Walt said. “Alma is in a poker tournament at the Flamingo later. We haven’t been banned from there yet.”
    Dad started to say something, but I put my hand on his arm. Coming to Las Vegas is not something a retired Methodist minister would normally do. “It’s their honeymoon. We should let them do what they want.”
    He muttered something under his breath, but reluctantly nodded his head. I knew he would probably spend most of the day in his room, reading a book or watching TV.
    We spent the rest of our breakfast listening to Grandma Alma and Walt tell us about their wedding and all the fun they had been having. As we walked out, my grandmother held me back, and let the two men get ahead of us. “There’s just one little thing…”
    I was really hoping this wasn’t going to turn into an uncomfortable talk about the birds and the bees. “What’s up?”
    “Well, I think there’s someone watching us.”
    “Someone you’ve played poker with? You didn’t cheat, did you?”
    Grandma Alma looked offended. “How dare you ask me that?!”
    “I’m sorry, you’re right. So who is this other person?”
    “I