by Nancy Skopin
My follow-up idea was to find a way to check both Vanessa and Chance’s financials. If she’d paid him off, it was probably in cash. If I could confirm that she’d withdrawn a large sum of money shortly after Chet’s death, it would be a good start. If I could also confirm that Chance had deposited the same amount of money after his father’s death, maybe I’d have something for Bill to take to the DA.
I only knew one person capable of hacking into bank records without getting caught. Michael answered on the second ring.
“Good morning.”
“Hey, Michael. How are you?”
“Cut the small talk and tell me what you need.”
“Can’t I just call to see how my oldest friend is doing?”
“If you were anybody else, I’d say yes, absolutely. So spill it. How can I help? I heard on the news that you found Sky Solomon. What else are you working on?”
“A murder case. Chet Fortune hired me to find out who was trying to kill him, and the next day he was dead. I have a primary suspect, but her stepson is providing an alibi which will be almost impossible to disprove. I need to get into both of their financials to see if she’s paying him off.”
“Why is the alibi impossible to disprove?” he asked.
“They’re saying they were together at his apartment in San Francisco at the time Chet was killed.”
“Do you have her cell phone number?”
That hadn’t been in the murder book, so the answer was, “No.”
“Do you know what she drives?”
“No.”
“Social security number?”
“Why are we playing twenty questions?”
“If we had her cell number I could hack its GPS and see what towers she was near during your time of death window. Same thing with the car. If it has GPS and it’s turned on, I can find out where the car was when your guy was killed.”
“So why did you ask if I had her social?”
“Because if you had that I could get everything else.”
“I’d like to cover all the possibilities. I’ll send you the background I got on her from CIS. It includes her driver’s license, so maybe that will help you identify her car.”
“I can work with that. Send me what you’ve got.”
“Thank you, Michael. You’re a saint.”
“Not even close,” he said, and ended the call.
If this kept up I was going to owe him a month of dinners. That was okay with me. Michael is excellent company.
Something that troubled me about Chet’s case was Vanessa’s motive. The murder book notes indicated that Chet had taken Vanessa out of his will and removed her from his life insurance policy. If he’d followed my advice, he’d have told her that. So all she stood to inherit, as far as I knew, was the company, and I wasn’t certain about that. It had been a sole proprietorship, and while Vanessa had been his CFO, she had not been a co-owner. I didn’t understand enough about estate law to know how an asset like that would be assigned to Chet’s heirs. Maybe his son, Chance, would inherit Dr. Feelgood.
I temporarily put Chet’s case out of my mind and wondered how Jea and Sky were handling their new life. I wondered how Nina had changed their appearances, where they were going to live now, and what kind of support system would be possible for a single mother who had to lie to everyone she met about who she was. I felt my gut clench with worry for those two. There was nothing more I could do for them. I just needed to know that they were okay. I considered placing another call to Melinda, asking her to have Nina contact me at some point to tell me all was well. But Nina had her own fish to fry, so to speak. She probably wouldn’t appreciate me prying into the lives of her new charges anyway.
I still needed to pack for my trip, and while Bill hadn’t said whether or not he was going to fly down on Saturday, I thought I’d better check with Kirk, just in case. I called him at work and he confirmed that he’d be happy to Buddy-sit while Bill and I were out of town. When I’d had to sail to D.C. last year, Buddy had lived aboard with Kirk and D’Artagnon most of the time, except when Bill was free to spend time with him. I knew he wasn’t much of a burden, and I knew Kirk loved him, as did D’Artagnon. I just didn’t want my boy to think his mom was abandoning him, and I didn’t want Kirk to feel I was taking advantage of his generous nature.
I checked online to see what the weather was like in Las Vegas, and found that the current high was 100 degrees and the low was 69. A thirty degree range like that would be unusual in California, but Vegas is a desert. I decided to pack layers so I’d be comfortable both in the heat and in the air-conditioned hotel.
Opening an Excel spreadsheet, I started a list of everything I needed to pack. When that was done, I printed the list, slipped it in my pocket, and hooked Buddy’s leash to his collar. Walk time. Also, I was hungry, so a stop at the Pelican was in order. If anything could sooth my anxiety about Jea, Sky, and Vanessa, it was Bennett’s meatloaf.
After lunch, Buddy and I regrouped on board Turning Point, and I began assembling my Vegas wardrobe. I’d pack my hair products and cosmetics in the morning. I’d chosen one sun dress and one strapless dress, both of which were made of fabric that doesn’t wrinkle. I packed jeans and shorts, a light jacket, my Track II boots and my cross trainers, two pairs of dressy sandals, and three changes of under garments. I managed to fit everything into a large carry-on bag which had wheels and a retractable handle.
Once the packing was done I checked my office voicemail and was disappointed I hadn’t heard back from Michael. If I could just tie Vanessa’s financials to Chance, Bill might be able to push for a warrant. I thought the video of the person tying the stolen Zodiac to that guest dock looked exactly like Vanessa, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Bill’s Sargent didn’t agree.
Buddy and I took another walk around the marina at 5:00 and that’s when I remembered I hadn’t gone grocery shopping. We piled into my car and made the drive to Whole Foods in record time. I prefer the Hillsdale location because they have underground parking, which stays cool enough for Buddy to be left in the car. I lowered the windows so he had fresh air, but not enough for him to climb out, and took the elevator to ground level where I secured a cart and entered the store.
I love shopping at Whole Foods. It’s the only place I know of where you can rest assured that anything you purchase is non-GMO as well as antibiotic and pesticide free. I loaded my cart with organic produce, then hit the meat department, and finally grabbed a large bag of kibble. They also carry my favorite IPA, Deschutes Fresh Squeezed. By the time I made it to the checkstand my cart was full. I swiped my credit card, accepted my receipt, and wheeled my cart into the elevator to the underground garage.
We were back at the marina by 6:30, and I was lucky enough to find a parking space in the boat owners’ lot. I walked Buddy down to the boat before grabbing a dock cart and hiking back up to shore. I was just loading the last bag into the cart when I spotted Bill’s Mustang pulling into the visitors’ lot. Perfect timing.
Dinner that night consisted of barbecued salmon, fresh zuchinni, and baby red potatoes. We ate out on deck, enjoying the warm weather. Buddy begged for bites of everything, and since what we were eating was healthy for dogs, neither of us resisted.
After dinner Bill washed the dishes and I dried, anxious to hear about any progress on Chet’s case but hesitant to ask. I knew I’d been stretching the boundaries of our relationship lately and, so far, he’d been a good sport about it. I was leaving for Vegas tomorrow and wasn’t in the mood to create any strain between us. Still, one little question couldn’t hurt.
“What did your Sargent say about the video at the yacht club?”
Bill sighed and handed me a plate to dry.
“She was on the fence about it, so I took it to the DA.”
“And?”
“And he said the video would certainly contribute to the case if we had any other evidence to implicate Vanessa. But the video alone isn’t enough for a warrant. I can’t get her phones
and financial records, or even track her car’s GPS, without a warrant.”
I’d kind of expected that, but it was still disappointing.
Once the dishes were done Bill picked up one of his acoustic guitars, and we reassembled in the main salon. Playing guitar is Bill’s therapy. Buddy joined us and rested his heavy head in my lap. I closed my eyes and let the music and my dog’s affection envelope me.
CHAPTER 28
Friday morning arrived too soon and Bill had to leave for work while I was still in the shower. Pushing the curtain aside for a quick goodbye kiss, he said, “Fly safely.”
I promised I would, though we both knew I’d have no control over the portion of my journey that was in the air.
I fed Buddy his breakfast and sipped my coffee while watching the morning news. Chet’s murder was no longer of interest to the media, in spite of the nature of his business, and Sky’s kidnapping and rescue only rated a thirty-second sound bite.
After breakfast we walked around the marina, and I left Buddy with D’Artagnon while I went to the gym. This would be my last chance to work out until I returned home on Sunday. I’d miss the endorphins. Maybe the hotel had a gym.
Airport security required that you check in for your flight two hours before take-off, so when I got home from the gym I walked both Buddy and D’Artagnon, then left them on Kirk’s boat and tearfully kissed my boy goodbye.
I collected my luggage, slipped my Kindle into my shoulder bag, and took a quick tour of the boat to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything essential. Once I was sure I had everything I’d need for my trip, I lugged my bag up to shore and climbed into my BMW. I hadn’t heard back from Michael yet, so I sent him a quick text letting him know I’d be out of town until Sunday, and to call me on my cell if he had any updates.
I arrived at SFO a little before eleven and parked in the long-term lot. After locking up the Bimmer, I made my way to the departures desk for Southwest Airlines, where I found Elizabeth, Jack, and Lily already in line. I joined them, to the chagrin of the travelers behind them. Elizabeth enveloped me in a hug and whispered, “I’m so glad you’re going to be with me for this.”
My eyes heated up, but I fought back the sentimental part of my psyche, and said, “Me too, honey.”
The line slowly inched forward until each of us had our boarding pass.
We found seats at the departure gate and waited until our flight was ready to board. Only Jack and Elizabeth had seats together, and the plane was packed, but the flight to Vegas was short. I pulled out my Kindle, set it on airplane mode, and continued reading the latest Hetta Coffey novel by Jinx Schwartz until the seatbelt light began to flash as we approached McCarran International.
Las Vegas in June is like a dry heat sauna. I’d worn shorts and a tank top under a light jacket. After we collected Lily and Elizabeth’s luggage, I took off my jacket and tied it around my waist as we hiked to the AVIS parking lot to pick up our rental car. The temperature outside the airport made breathing almost painful.
Jack had arranged for a cherry-red 2018 BMW 3 series sedan. There was ample room in the trunk for all of our luggage, and the interior was luxurious, as soon as the air conditioning kicked in. With the GPS coordinates for the Bellagio leading the way, we made the drive in less than ten minutes. Taking advantage of the valet parking and the bell persons, we entered the opulent lobby and approached the front desk. Before you could say “Check in,” our luggage had been delivered to our rooms and we had key cards in hand.
“Why don’t we have a cocktail before we start looking at chapels?” Elizabeth suggested.
I checked my watch. It was 3:15, probably cocktail hour somewhere, and this was Las Vegas, after all. We checked out a “you are here” kiosk where we discovered that there was a pub called the Lily Bar & Lounge. The entire hotel was elegant, and the Lily didn’t disappoint. We made ourselves comfortable on a plush leather sofa and were immediately approached by a tall blonde dressed in a skimpy LBD who apologized, saying that the Lily didn’t open until 5:00. She asked if we were guests at the hotel, while covertly checking Jack out. I couldn’t blame her. He is a hottie. We confirmed that we were staying at the Bellagio, and she recommended the Baccarat Bar.
“It’s open twenty-four hours a day and you can smoke in there. They even sell cigars.”
She gave us directions, and we found our way through the casino to the Baccarat room and the adjacent bar. I’ve never had a desire to visit Las Vegas and found the racket from the casino floor annoying. Good thing I love Elizabeth.
We seated ourselves at the bar and ordered drinks. Jack and I selected cigars as well. I was just starting to relax when my phone vibrated in my purse. I set my cigar in the ashtray, dug my cell out of its pocket, and slid my finger across the screen. It was a text from Michael.
“Hope you’re enjoying Vegas. Have news re Vanessa. Call when you have time.”
I texted back immediately. “Will do. Which of your phones should I call?”
Michael sent me an emoji of a tongue sticking out followed by a phone number. I saved the number in my cell and turned back to my friends.
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Working?” she asked.
“Not really. Michael is gathering data for me. He just asked me to call when I have a chance.”
That seemed to mollify her sufficiently. We finished our drinks, Jack and I stubbed out our excellent cigars, and we trooped back to the lobby where we asked the concierge to call us a taxi. We could have used the rental, but none of us knew Vegas at all, so we figured we’d ask the driver for chapel recommendations.
The Bellagio uses the OnCabs app and within minutes a midnight blue C-300 Bentley limo pulled up.
The driver got out and introduced himself, saying, “My name is Eli, and I’ll be your driver today.”
Eli was a beautiful young man with mocha-latte skin, curly black hair, and a brilliant smile which included dimples. He was dressed in black slacks and a teal short-sleeved shirt, and wore a pair of small, gold hoop earrings. His vibrant personality seemed to radiate joy in every direction.
Elizabeth shook Eli’s hand and introduced herself, and then the rest of us. Once we were seated in the limo, he asked where we would like to go.
“We’re looking for an Elvis chapel,” Elizabeth said. “We’re eloping, and we’d like the whole Elvis experience, but nothing tacky.”
Eli laughed before offering the various possibilities. “There are tons of Elvis wedding chapels in town, but if you’re not into kitsch I’d recommend Viva Las Vegas or Graceland Chapel. Graceland is my favorite because the guys who perform there look the most like the young Elvis. I just love Elvis.”
We visited both chapels, and it was unanimous. Jack and Elizabeth booked their ceremony at Graceland for the only vacant time slot on Saturday, which was at 6:00 p.m.
After filling out the necessary forms, Elizabeth asked the receptionist for directions to city hall, so they could obtain a marriage license. It was almost 5:00. If they were going to get a license today, we’d have to rush. Eli had stayed with us while we made all the arrangements, and had even turned off the meter so he could come inside and check out the Elvis on duty. The receptionist suggested we go to the Clark County Marriage License Bureau, because they were open until midnight.
Eli drove us to East Clark Avenue and agreed to wait, again, while we took care of getting the license. We entered the building and found at least a dozen couples in line ahead of us.
CHAPTER 29
It was almost 7:00 p.m. when we finally made it back to the Bellagio. I needed a shower and I was starving. It was a toss-up which was more critical at this point. Elizabeth made the decision for me when she said, “I want a shower, room service, and a nap.”
“Works for me,” I said.
Lily said she was going to grab a bite and then hit the casino for a while. “Call my cell if you all want to get together later.” She waved as she merged with the throngs of gamblers. A born-again woman over six f
eet tall in her Manolo knock-offs and pink satin halter dress, Lily normally stands out in any crowd, but less so in Vegas, land of showgirls in headdresses.
Jack, Elizabeth, and I rode up in the elevator together. The hotel had put us all on the 33rd floor in the original tower. My “Strip View” room was at the opposite end of the hall from Jack and Elizabeth’s suite, so we parted ways when we arrived at our floor.
I used my keycard and entered my room. While it was elegant, I found myself missing my boat, my dog, and Bill, of course. I kicked off my shoes and picked up the room service menu, wondering if they had oysters. Alas, there were none on the menu, so I called down to order a Cobb salad with Italian dressing on the side. Maybe I’d try the Jacuzzi while I waited for dinner to arrive. They’d told me my order would be up in twenty minutes. Plenty of time.
While the temperature outside was blistering, the interior of the hotel was a comfortable 72 degrees, so I ran a lukewarm bath, tossed in some of the complimentary lavender salts, and sank into the pulsating jets. I was just wrapping myself in a fluffy white Bellagio robe when someone knocked on my door. I looked at my watch. It had only been fifteen minutes.
I checked the peep-hole and discovered Lily staring back at me. I opened the door and she pushed her way into my room.
“I’m bored,” she huffed.
I couldn’t help laughing. “Lily, you’re in the sun and fun capital of the world. Sin city! How on earth can you be bored?”
“I miss my cats,” she whined, and plunked down on one of the loveseats.