Free Magicide by Carolyn V. Hamilton Page B

she’d just stopped home briefly between lunch and an important closing, so the detectives were lucky to catch her.
    “Cher, baby,” she said, “So nice to see you again. But what circumstances. Really bad timing. We should be lunching, don’t you think?”
    Cheri introduced Pizzarelli, who said, “We want to talk to Carter Cunningham, and this is the address we have.”
    “Oh, Carter doesn’t live here anymore.” Dawn Cunningham ran a finger over the flat gold chain at her neck. “He has his own apartment. What do you want him for?”
    “We’re investigating the murder of Maxwell Beacham-Jones. We’re talking to people who were there last night and might know something or have a take on what happened.”
    Alarm sobered Dawn’s pretty face. “Oh, I’m sure Carter doesn’t know anything. You should be talking to Maxwell’s girl friend. That Regine woman.”
    “Why Regine?”
    Dawn nodded her head in quick, short movements. “I always thought they made a weird couple.” Her voice contained a conspiratorial note. “I met her a couple of times. Don’t get me wrong. Not because she’s twenty years younger than the rest of us. She’s just—weird.”
    Pizzarelli laughed. “Hey, we live in Vegas. You don’t have to explain ‘weird.’”
    “Can you explain it to me?” Cheri asked.
    “Well, I really shouldn’t repeat rumors...” Dawn began.
    Pizzarelli, eyeing the Nieman painting, said, “But you will.”
    Dawn leaned in Cheri’s direction. “I heard Regine’s had major plastic surgery. That’s all I heard. I don’t know what all, but I can imagine.”
    “Think she had this surgery for Maxwell?”
    “Don’t know. But if you find out, baby, I’d sure like to know what it was.” Dawn managed to frown and smile at the same time. “She does look good—in a kind of Barbie-on-steroids way.”
    “Where can we find your son, Mrs. Cunningham?” Pizzarelli asked.
    “Well, I guess it’d be okay for me to give you his address,” she said. She spoke the numbers, street name and apartment number while Cheri punched the corresponding keys into her digital notebook.
    Just then Dawn’s cell phone rang. She apologized, but looked relieved. “Please excuse me.”
    She hadn’t invited them into the living room, and while she talked to her caller, Cheri peeked at the impressive furnishings beyond the foyer. Dawn had done well. She’d been smart to give up dancing and get a career that would serve her later in life. Maybe Cheri had been an unknowing good influence while she was living with Larissa. But, maybe not.
    “I’ve got to leave soon,” Dawn said, snapping her cell shut. “I’m on the Vegas planning committee for MAGIQUE DU MONDE, and we’ve got a train wreck. We’re trying to get hold of Robert the Great to be the opening star now that Maxwell’s, well, out. Robert’s a has-been, I know, but he was Maxwell’s mentor. We can hype that part up.”
    She made a show of looking at her expensive watch. “And I’ve got a big closing shortly.”
    Cheri said, “I met him for the first time the other night at the Dunes Park.”
    Dawn gave her an astonished look. “Really? You never met him when you and Larissa lived together? He headlined Jubilee!”
    “I saw the show, but I never went backstage.”
    “Yeah,” Dawn said. “Well, he wasn’t all that sociable, anyway. Hid out in his star dressing room when he wasn’t onstage. Never said so much as ‘hello’ to any of us lowly dancers. Don’t think he even fucked any of the girls.”
    Cheri did her best to hide an inappropriate smile. “He wasn’t tall enough.”
    “That is—until he spotted Larissa. Yeesh, the sparks! Everybody knew he wanted her, but Maxwell popped her.”
    “Robert the Great filled that room and provided a lot of job security,” Pizzarelli said. “I always heard he was the best in the magic business. I’d think they’d love seeing him perform again. I think you made a good choice.”
    Cheri pursed her lips