Las Vegas, 1989.

Eighteen-year-old Kate Clyde escapes her controlling parents in Idaho for a dream visit with her uncle Vince, a jazz singer at the glamorous Grand Royale Hotel and Lucky Horseshoe Casino. But the trip turns deadly when a wealthy businessman’s wife plunges from a nearby balcony—right in Kate’s line of sight.

The only witness, Kate is drawn into the case by homicide detective Lionel Bishop. A suspicious note suggests the fall wasn’t an accident, and with the hotel’s reputation—and Vince’s career—on the line, she must untangle a web of suspects, mafia ties, and secrets beneath the city’s glittering surface.

Determined to claim her independence, protect her uncle, and maybe catch the eye of the detective’s charming son, Kate must solve the murder… before her fresh start in Las Vegas vanishes for good.

14+ due to adult situations

Excerpt:

The falling woman screamed all the way down. Kate watched in horror as the woman hit the wet pavement, her bones cracking and blood splattering around her. A group of guests below rushed over, swarming the woman with murmurs of concern and confusion.

Kate realized then that she knew the woman—it was the same one who had cried in her car and booked a room with a view. Now, she was dead, her eyes blown wide in terror, her fur coat splayed around her body as the rain drenched her.

Kate rushed into the hallway. “Someone call an ambulance! A woman’s fallen!”

But no one was around—not even the staff. Her uncle had already left. As she rushed down the hallway, she noticed a room service delivery cart had gotten knocked over. Food, drinks, and napkins coated the floor, but there was no maid cleaning it up.

Kate entered the elevator, waiting impatiently for it to reach the bottom level. She pushed through the people—all unaware of what had happened outside—and made her way toward the dining area. It had dozens of tables and chairs, a bar with a few guests, and a well-dressed man in front of a podium. He looked like the maître d’.

“Good evening, miss,” the man said, gesturing around the dining area. “Are you ready to order—”

“I’m looking for Vince Clyde,” Kate interrupted. “Where is he?”

The man paused. “You’re his niece, I take it? He’s waiting for you at the bar. He already booked a table—”

“You have to call the police,” Kate interrupted. “A woman just fell from the fourteenth-story balcony. I think…I think she might be dead.”