Chapter 16Lumbergh’s mind was sprinting circles as he sat in the passenger seat of a dark Ford Crown Victoria, waiting for the traffic light in front of him to turn green.
“Are we almost there?” he asked, turning to the driver.
“About five minutes out,” answered Las Vegas Metro detective, Kim Holman. Mild irritation accompanied her voice, having been asked the same question five minutes earlier.
Holman was an attractive woman in her thirties, thin with dark eyes, long dark hair, and a chiseled face. She appeared of Hispanic decent, though her name didn’t reflect it. She was the first detective at the Dusty Nickel and had quickly taken charge of the crime scene, directing officers to rope off the area to keep the press and onlookers away. She’d rifled through the dead man’s pockets, as L
