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  Also by Wendelin Van Draanen

  Sammy Keyes and the Hotel Thief

  Sammy Keyes and the Skeleton Man

  Sammy Keyes and the Sisters of Mercy

  Sammy Keyes and the Runaway Elf

  Sammy Keyes and the Curse of Moustache Mary

  Sammy Keyes and the Hollywood Mummy

  Sammy Keyes and the Search for Snake Eyes

  Sammy Keyes and the Art of Deception

  Sammy Keyes and the Psycho Kitty Queen

  Sammy Keyes and the Dead Giveaway

  Sammy Keyes and the Wild Things

  Sammy Keyes and the Cold Hard Cash

  Sammy Keyes and the Wedding Crasher

  Sammy Keyes and the Night of Skulls

  Sammy Keyes and the Power of Justice Jack

  Shredderman: Secret Identity

  Shredderman: Attack of the Tagger

  Shredderman: Meet the Gecko

  Shredderman: Enemy Spy

  The Gecko & Sticky: Villain’s Lair

  The Gecko & Sticky: The Greatest Power

  The Gecko & Sticky: Sinister Substitute

  The Gecko & Sticky: The Power Potion

  How I Survived Being a Girl

  Flipped

  Swear to Howdy

  Runaway

  Confessions of a Serial Kisser

  The Running Dream

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2013 by Wendelin Van Draanen Parsons

  Cover art and interior illustrations copyright © 2013 by Dan Yaccarino

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Visit us on the Web! randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at RHTeachersLibrarians.com

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Van Draanen, Wendelin.

  Sammy Keyes and the showdown in Sin City / Wendelin Van Draanen. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: When youth sleuth Sammy Keyes travels to Las Vegas to stop her mom from marrying her boyfriend’s dad, she never expects she’ll learn the identity of her absent father in the process.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-97408-2

  [1. Fathers—Fiction. 2. Identity—Fiction. 3. Mothers and daughters—Fiction.

  4. Las Vegas (Nev.)—Fiction. 5. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.

  PZ7.V2857Sapm 2013

  [Fic]—dc23

  2012013474

  Random House Children’s Books supports the First Amendment and celebrates the right to read.

  v3.1

  This book is dedicated to Berto and Betty van Veen, rare saints in a world with plenty enough sinners.

  *

  Contents

  Cover

  Other Books by This Author

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Excerpt from Sammy Keyes and the Killer Cruise

  With special thanks to:

  Mike Clawson, special event supervisor, for taking us behind the scenes at the House of Blues Las Vegas—your time and patience were greatly appreciated!

  Robyne Wilson and Danielle Meyer, wedding coordinators at Vegas Weddings, where a bride can walk in, drive through, or do the whole nine yards.

  The security screener at the Clark County Detention Center, who will remain unnamed, as I already got him in trouble once.

  Loraine and Bill “we’ve never done Vegas like this” Simpson for sleuthing chapels, rooftops, jails, concert halls, and the back corridors of Las Vegas with us during the research phase of this book.

  Also, thanks to my husband, Mark Parsons, for always being willing to “talk plot” and for putting the best spin on my harebrained schemes, and to Nancy Siscoe for her editorial wisdom and support in reaching this pivotal point in the series.

  PROLOGUE

  It’s been more than two and a half years since my mother left me with Grams so she could move to Hollywood to become a movie star.

  Or, at least, the Gas-Away Lady, and then a recovering amnesiac in The Lords of Willow Heights—a soap so popular it’s just been canceled.

  Yeah, it’s been more than two and a half years since she promised me she would get settled and send for me “soon,” but after about a year of broken promises and non-answers it finally sank in that I’m just a burden and an unwanted embarrassment—someone she wishes would just go away.

  Or at least quit asking questions.

  Especially questions about who my dad is.

  But I have a problem with non-answers, and I have a problem with people who don’t keep their promises. So when the call came from Casey, I snapped.

  Enough, as they say, is enough.

  ONE

  Casey Acosta is my boyfriend.

  He’s also my archenemy’s brother, and my mother’s boyfriend’s son.

  So yeah.

  It’s complicated.

  Especially since my boyfriend’s mother hates me and my mother for “stealing her men.” Never mind that Candi and Warren Acosta had been divorced a long time before my mother came into the picture, or that Casey’s only fifteen and not exactly property—we’ve still “stolen her men.”

  Now, if anyone’s got a legitimate complaint about my mother being with Candi’s ex, it’s me. I mean, there are a billion other men out there for my glamorous mother to choose from—why Casey’s dad?

  But that’s the way Lady Lana is. Grams may hate that I call her that, but I think it sums her up perfectly. She acts like royalty and doesn’t care how what she does affects other people. For example, she doesn’t think, Whoa, if I marry Warren, his evil daughter, Heather, will become my daughter’s stepsister. Or, Hey, my daughter’s boyfriend will become her stepbrother! How awkward!

  No, she does what she wants and justifies it by telling me that Casey and I can’t possibly last. That no relationship formed in junior high school does. That what she and Warren have is real and mature love … not just some silly “junior high crush.”

  Even though Casey’s now a freshman in high school.

  Anyway, since there seems to be no reasoning with wannabe royalty, I’ve just been hoping that her infatuation with Warren will blow over. Or that Warren will realize that he’s in way over his head. My mom can be very ?
?? snippy when things aren’t going her way, and since Warren was also on Lords and they’re now both out-of-work actors, well, let’s just say warning signs should be posted:

  CAUTION: ENTERING SNIPPYVILLE

  SLOW DOWN!

  TURN BACK WHILE YOU CAN!

  It’s not like I obsess over them being together. I’d short-circuit if I did. Plus the two of them are way off in Hollywood, and I’ve got enough worries right here in Santa Martina. Like sneaking in and out of Grams’ apartment every day, since it’s for seniors only and totally against the law for me to be living there. Or like surviving junior high school. That alone takes major concentration and endurance, but with Heather Acosta lurking around every corner, it’s like fancy-dancing through a minefield.

  I’ve got Heather in half my classes—history, science, and drama—and then, of course, there’s before school, break, lunch, and after school. And on a typical day, Heather greets me with a sneer and “Hey, loser,” or “Outta my way, loser,” or “Nice shoes, loser”—that last one being about my torn-up high-tops, which I’m hoping can last to the end of the school year.

  True to form, Thursday during third period Heather went toward her seat and said, “Loser,” as she passed by. She was texting, so I guess one word was all the multitasking she could handle. Plus she had a red paper clamped under her arm, so she was probably also distracted by her “Love Connection” results from the Valentine’s Day fundraiser the school was doing.

  Everyone at school had filled out a survey in homeroom. It had questions about what you like to do, your favorite band, your best subject … stuff like that. The surveys were put into a computer, and that morning the results had gone on sale. For five bucks you could get a list of the top five people of the opposite sex that the computer thought you were most compatible with.

  Everyone was buying their list, but I hadn’t. It used to be that spending five bucks on five names would have been out of the question, because Grams is on a really tight fixed income and I don’t get an allowance, let alone lunch money.

  But for once I was flush. To make a long story short, I’d gotten a share of a big reward for finding a stolen statue, so five bucks was totally doable. But I hadn’t bought mine because the whole computer match thing seemed kind of creepy.

  Like I can’t figure out who I like on my own?

  And besides, I’m not looking.

  I’ve got Casey.

  Sure, I was tempted out of curiosity—just to see who was on the list. But I got over that when I saw what happened to other people.

  Things got … awkward.

  Like a lot of people, my friends Marissa and Dot bought theirs before school, and when Marissa tore hers open, she whimpered, “Noooo.”

  “What?” I asked, moving in to see her list.

  “How can Jacob Hogan be number one?” There were tears in her eyes. “And Rudy Folksmeir is number two?”

  Not that long ago Marissa would probably just have laughed this off, but she’s been an emotional wreck for months. In addition to boy problems, I think what’s really got her completely stressed out is her parents. They used to be rich-rich-rich, but then they lost a fortune in the stock market and Marissa’s father started gambling to try to make up for it.

  I’m talking fly-to-Las-Vegas-and-get-rip-roaring-drunk gambling.

  And even though he’s joined Gamblers Anonymous and has tried to straighten things out, things are definitely not straightened out. Because of his gambling, they’re “upside down” on their mansion of a house and may have to move. And last week Marissa’s mom caught Mr. McKenze playing blackjack online.

  So much for Gamblers Anonymous.

  Anyway, Marissa’s gone from rich-rich-rich to completely broke, and she’s gone from going out with Billy Pratt—one of the most popular guys at school—to having icky Jacob Hogan and Rudy Folksmeir in the top two slots of her Love Connection list.

  “Hey,” Dot told her. “Maybe you just don’t know them very well. Maybe they’re actually interesting and nice.”

  Marissa gave her a completely defeated look. “Rudy’s favorite topic of conversation is dirt.”

  Which is true.

  He’s way into dirt biking.

  Marissa leans over to look at Dot’s printout. “So who did you get?” And even though Dot pulls back quick, Marissa sees enough to get upset. “You got Billy? There’s no way you and Billy are compatible! You’re quiet, he’s a ham.…” She flings her arms in the air and shouts, “We want our money back!”

  Dot, though, doesn’t seem to want her money back. She just wants Marissa to pipe down. “Shh! It’s not even anybody’s business that we bought them, okay?”

  “I have a question,” I throw in. “If somebody’s on your list, are you automatically on theirs?”

  Marissa gasps. “I hope not!”

  Our friend Holly has also just been standing quietly by, but since I’ve piped up, she does, too. “But it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

  Marissa whimpers, “So right now Jacob and Rudy are thinking we’re compatible? What if one of them asks me to the Valentine’s dance? What am I going to do?”

  Holly shrugs. “Say thanks but no thanks?”

  Dot adds, “Or just tell him you’re going with your friends.” She looks around at the rest of us. “We’re still planning to do that, right?”

  We all kind of nod, ’cause that’s what Marissa had talked us into. And even though it would be fun for me to go to a Valentine’s dance with Casey, his psycho mom has forbidden him to see me, so a school dance is not exactly someplace we can meet.

  Especially since Heather was sure to be there.

  Instead, Casey and I had agreed to meet on Saturday for a Valentine’s Day picnic at our secret spot—the graveyard.

  Anyway, Marissa’s still all worried, saying, “But … what if they go to the dance and ask me to dance?” She wags her Love Connection sheet a little and gives us a pleading look. “They’re not the type to buy these, right?”

  But it seemed like everyone was the type. Or, at least, couldn’t resist. By lunchtime on Friday, red sheets were everywhere, including poking out of Holly’s back pocket. Only the corner was showing, but there was no mistaking the color.

  “You bought yours?” I whispered, giving it a little flick.

  She slapped at her back pocket. “Shoot.”

  I laughed. “It’s not a crime, you know. Anybody good?”

  She hesitated, then gave me a little smile. “Preston Davis?”

  I smiled back. “Oh!”

  “But now everything’s weird! I can’t even look at him without blushing.” She rolled her eyes. “Is that stupid, or what?”

  Which made me glad I’d resisted curiosity and not bought mine. Everyone was getting at least a little wigged out by their results—like they didn’t know how to act around their friends anymore because they’d shown up on their Love Connection list.

  And that’s when I saw Heather pacing around, talking on her cell, waving a red paper in the air. “She’s had hers since yesterday and she’s still talking about it?” I laughed. “I wonder who’s on her Loooooove Connection.”

  Holly chuckled. “Five poor schmucks who’d better hide quick.”

  “Or run fast!” Marissa added.

  Dot shook her head. “Can you imagine?”

  But then during science I noticed that Heather was texting under her desk. And I don’t care who’s on your Love Connection list, it can’t be so bad that you risk texting during Ms. Rothhammer’s class. She is strict and she always follows through with detentions, referrals, and confiscations. Everyone knows her rules are ironclad, and when it comes to cell phones, it’s real simple: text in class, lose your phone.

  And believe me, if there’s one thing Heather doesn’t want to lose, it’s her phone.

  Now, Heather was being sly enough about it—her eyes were on the board while her thumbs were flying around under the desk—but still, it was dangerous.

  So I started think
ing that maybe what she was upset about was something bigger than having five “losers” on her Love Connection list.

  Maybe it was something real.

  I was dying to talk to Marissa about it during drama, but she didn’t show up to class. She hadn’t said anything about leaving school early, so I asked a couple of people if they knew where she was but got nowhere. Then Billy came up to me and whispered, “Pay-phone Casey the minute school lets out. He says it’s important.”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  He shook his head.

  “Wait. When which school lets out? Ours or his?”

  “Ours.”

  “But he’ll still be in class!”

  He shrugged. “I don’t decipher, I just deliver.”

  He turned to go, but I grabbed him and said, “Do you know why Marissa’s not in class?”

  He looked around. “She’s not?”

  “Mr. Pratt!” Mr. Chester hollered at him. “How many times do I have to ask you to stay on task?”

  “Sorry, sir!” Billy called back, and hurried off to the scenery he was supposed to be painting.

  I really wanted to chase after Billy and ask him more, but I was pretty sure he didn’t know any more. And then I noticed Heather lurking to the side of the stage and started wondering if maybe she did. She was still sneaking texts, and I could tell this wasn’t just casual conversation.

  She was plotting something.

  And after Billy’s message I started getting the sinking feeling that what she was plotting involved Casey.

  And probably me.

  TWO

  The minute school let out I hurried over to the pay phone. It wasn’t like I had to rush so I’d get to it before someone else did, since everyone else on the planet has a cell phone. But after watching Heather’s texting get more and more intense during drama, and then having her singe me with her infamous Psycho Evil Eye as she bolted out of the classroom, I was dying to know what was going on.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said when I heard Casey answer.

  “You okay?”

  He sounded stressed, which made me look around for Heather. “Yeah.… What’s going on?”