Murder Al Dente

by Nancy Skopin

  “Well, I can understand that. I miss Buddy like crazy.”

  There was another knock on the door.

  “That’ll be room service,” I said, grabbing my wallet. I pulled out some cash to offer as a tip and opened the door.

  A young blonde woman wearing black shorts, a white blouse, and a black vest stood next to a room service cart, a tired smile on her face.

  I signed for my Cobb salad and allowed her to roll the cart into my room.

  “Have you eaten, Lily?” I asked as the server placed my meal on a table near the wall of windows.

  “I grabbed a burger in the casino,” Lily said.

  As the server was leaving, I thanked her and handed her the cash tip. I locked the door behind her and went into the bedroom to get dressed. Lily followed. She isn’t shy about nudity, although I am.

  I pulled on my briefs under the robe before dropping it on the bed and grabbing my bra. Then I slipped into an orange sun dress and buckled on a pair of strappy sandals.

  “You want me to do something with your hair?” Lily asked.

  “You really are bored,” I said. “No thanks. I need to eat. Feel free to join me, though.”

  I planted myself at the table and dug into my salad after sprinkling a little dressing over the lettuce.

  “You working on any interesting cases?” Lily asked.

  Lily is an excellent sounding board, especially when it comes to psychological profiling, and has helped me a lot in the past when I’ve been stumped by aspects of a case. Since Chet was dead, confidentiality wasn’t an issue.

  “You know Chet Fortune was murdered, right?”

  “Yeah. You’re working his homicide?”

  “Kind of. He hired me the day before he died.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he was convinced someone was trying to kill him.”

  “Holy shit, Nikki.”

  “I know. I feel responsible for bringing his killer to justice. Bill caught the case, so I know it’s being handled, but there are things the police can’t do that I can.”

  “That’s true. So what are you doing?”

  I took another bite of salad, making sure to include a chunk of bacon. I love bacon almost as much as oysters.

  “My friend Michael is looking into a few things for me. I suspect Chet’s ex-wife is the one who shot him, but she supposedly has an alibi.” I shoveled a bite of hardboiled egg into my mouth and chewed slowly.

  “What, or who, is her alibi?” Lily asked.

  “Chet’s son, Chance. His son from a previous marriage.”

  “What time was Chet killed?”

  “Between midnight and two a.m. last Friday.”

  “His ex and his son were together after midnight? Eew.”

  “I know, right?”

  “You think the alibi is bogus?”

  “I do. I think Vanessa, the ex, bribed Chance to cover for her.”

  “So what is Michael looking for?”

  “Anything that will either prove that a bribe happened or that she wasn’t in San Francisco at the time of Chet’s murder. I asked him to see if he could get into their financials or hack her cell phone records or her car’s GPS.”

  “What makes you so sure she’s the killer?”

  “Until last Thursday she was Chet’s sole beneficiary, and he was worth half a billion.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. He apparently had some oil wells in Texas.”

  “Huh. I should have gone out with him when he asked. So what happened last Thursday?”

  “I told him to change his will and his life insurance policy ASAP, and then notify Vanessa that he’d done that.”

  “And?”

  “And I know he made the changes. I just don’t know if he told Vanessa about them before he died. If he didn’t, she had a financial motive. That reminds me, I need to call Michael back.”

  I wiped my mouth with a napkin and snatched my cell out of my purse. Lily pulled my salad over to her side of the table and started picking the bacon and avocado out of it.

  “Hey!” I said, just as Michael answered my call.

  “Hey yourself,” he responded.

  I laughed. “Sorry about that. Lily is raiding my Cobb salad. What have you got for me?”

  “I was able to identify Vanessa’s car through the DMV records, and she has OnStar. So I hacked her GPS, and guess where she was not on Friday morning?”

  “San Francisco?”

  “Give the lady a cigar.”

  “Where was she?”

  “Bair Island Road.”

  “The marina.”

  “Yep.”

  “Damn! I wish I could share this info with Bill. Anything else?”

  “I’m still trying to get into her cell phone and financial records. My own work has been keeping me pretty busy, though.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re in Las Vegas! Have some fun for a change.”

  “I have plenty of fun.”

  “You just keep telling yourself that, kiddo. Talk soon.”

  As usual, he disconnected before I could say thank you. Oh well.

  I snatched my salad back from Lily. There was no bacon or avocado left, dammit! I ate the rest of the eggs and some of the lettuce.

  “So?” Lily said.

  “What?”

  “Are you going to tell me what Michael found out?”

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because you ate all my bacon and avocado.”

  “Bitch.”

  “I love it that I’m the bitch. He hacked her car’s GPS, and it shows that she was parked at the marina in Redwood City at the time of Chet’s murder.”

  “Excellent.”

  “Except I can’t share that with Bill because it was obtained illegally.”

  “Crap.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what now?”

  “Michael’s still trying to get into her financials and her cell phone records, but none of this is going to do Bill any good. As far as I’m concerned, Vanessa’s guilty. I just have to find a legal way to prove it.”

  “Why don’t you pull a Robert Durst?”

  “A what now?”

  “Get her to confess, and tape it.”

  “California is a two party consent state. I can’t tape her without her knowledge.”

  “In California you can record a conversation without the other person knowing if you believe it will collect evidence of a serious crime.”

  “Damn, Lily. I should put you on the payroll!”

  Between the two of us we managed to finish most of my salad. It was almost 8:00 p.m., and I wondered if I should call Elizabeth and risk waking her from her nap. I texted her instead, letting her know that Lily and I were in my room, and asking if she had any plans for the rest of the evening.

  Apparently she was already awake because she called me immediately. I put the call on speaker.

  “You want to see the water show?” Elizabeth asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “Didn’t you see Ocean’s Eleven?”

  “Oh! The fountains?”

  “Yep. We’ll meet you there.”

  I turned to Lily who was smiling. “What?” I asked.

  “Matt Damon could really rock my world.”

  “I take it you’ve seen Ocean’s Eleven and you know all about the water show?”

  “You bet! Let’s go.”

  I grabbed my purse and a jacket, and we caught an elevator down to the lobby.

  Elizabeth and Jack were waiting for us when we arrived. He was in shorts and a polo shirt, and Elizabeth wore a navy dress covered in sunflowers. We’d arrived just prior to the 8:00 show. The waterworks began to the tune of Fly Me to the Moon with Frank Sinatra backed by the Count Basie orchestra. It was magical. I got goose bumps and wished Bill could be there to share the experience with me. The dancing streams of water were illuminated from within and pulsed to the bea
t of the music. Vegas may not be my kind of town, but I was glad we hadn’t miss this amazing spectacle.

  When the show was over we adjourned to the Lily Lounge for cocktails. They didn’t stock my favorite IPA, so I settled for a pint of Guinness. Lily ordered a cosmopolitan, Elizabeth had her usual mudslide, and Jack requested a shot of Jameson’s, neat.

  It was only 9:15 when I returned to my room, so I called Bill’s cell to find out if he was going to be able to make it to the wedding tomorrow. He answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, beautiful.”

  “Do you miss me?”

  “Are you gone?”

  “Funny. Will you be flying to Vegas tomorrow? The wedding isn’t until 6:00 so you’ll have plenty of time to play tourist if you want to.”

  “I wish I could. There’s been another homicide.”

  “Shit. Anybody I know?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  I tried to wait for him to continue, but I’m not that patient. “Are you going to tell me?”

  “Chance Fortune.”

  “What the... How? When?”

  “You forgot why.”

  “Shut up. I need details!”

  “Hit and run near his home in San Francisco at approximately 4:18 p.m. That’s when the 911 call came in. Witnesses said it was a white sedan, but no one got make or model and the windows were tinted, so no description of the driver. SFPD asked me to coordinate with them because I’m handling Chet’s homicide.”

  “You know this isn’t a coincidence. Do you have enough to get a warrant for Vanessa’s phones and financials?”

  “Not unless I can prove it was her car.”

  Michael hadn’t mentioned what kind of car she drove, only that he’d hacked its GPS.

  “Do you know what she drives?”

  “Not yet. I’ll check with the DMV when they open on Monday.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah. I was looking forward to Jack’s expression when Elvis asks him if he’ll love Elizabeth tender.”

  “Groan.”

  “When are you coming home?”

  “Sunday. My flight into SFO arrives at 4:10 p.m.”

  “Want me to pick you up?”

  “My car’s in long term parking, but thanks for offering. How’s Buddy doing?”

  “He misses you. You want to say ‘Hi?’”

  Bill held the phone up to Buddy’s ear and I whispered how much I loved him. I could hear him breathing and what sounded like his tongue licking the receiver.

  “Gross.” That was Bill. “The phone’s all wet now.”

  “Awww.”

  “Are you having a good time?”

  “I guess so. We caught the water show at the Bellagio tonight. It was amazing.”

  “I’ve heard that.”

  We chatted about the weather in Vegas and the chapel Elizabeth and Jack had chosen for their nuptials, then said goodnight.

  CHAPTER 30

  Saturday morning I woke to the sound of my cell phone vibrating on the nightstand next to the bed. I checked the time on the offending device and saw that it was almost 9:00 a.m. The caller was “blocked.” Probably Michael.

  “Nicoli Hunter,” I answered.

  “Michael Burke,” he responded.

  “Why are you calling from a blocked number?”

  “Because I have information that I don’t want traced back to me.”

  “Great! What have you got?”

  “Vanessa’s cell phone records. She did receive a call from Chet the day before he was killed. The call lasted all of two minutes.”

  “Okay. Now if Bill can just get a warrant for those records he’ll have probable cause to investigate her financials, though that’s kind of a catch twenty-two. He’ll also need probable cause for the cell phone records.”

  “Shut up. I’m not done yet.”

  “Sorry. What else?”

  “She called an Uber from her cell phone at 1:09 a.m. on Friday the eighth. At the time of the call the nearest cell tower was on Penobscot Drive in Redwood City.”

  “Not far from Cooke’s Harbor.”

  “Correct.”

  “That outstanding, Michael! Anything else?”

  “But of course. I got into her financials. Her salary from Dr. Feelgood is automatically deposited monthly. She takes home close to two hundred and fifty thousand a year. There was a fifty thousand dollar cash withdrawal on June ninth. Other than that, nothing hinky I could find with the account. But I kept digging, and discovered an offshore account where she’s hiding almost three million.”

  “Any way to find out where that money came from?”

  “You wound me. I traced the deposits directly back to Dr. Feelgood. It wouldn’t be that hard for the CFO to embezzle funds. The offshore account was just opened six months ago.”

  “When the divorce was final.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Chet told me the divorce was final six months ago. Because she violated the prenup, she wasn’t awarded a settlement. That’s why he let her stay on as his CFO. He felt sorry for her.”

  “Sounds like quite a guy.”

  “Chet was a character. I kind of liked him. He was about to sell off forty-nine percent of the company. There would have been an audit before the sale could go through. Vanessa’s embezzling would have been discovered then, so that’s another motive. Did you get into Chance’s financials?”

  “I did. He’s only got twenty-five thousand in checking. No savings account.”

  “No recent deposit to match Vanessa’s withdrawal?”

  “Nope. If she bribed him with cash he didn’t put it in the bank. We still on for dinner next Friday?”

  “Absolutely. Meet me at the office around 4:30 and I’ll take you someplace fancy.”

  “I don’t need fancy. Take me someplace charming that has good food.”

  “I can do that.”

  “I know I don’t need to say this, but watch your back, Nikki. If Vanessa suspects you’re on to her she might take it personally.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Chet’s son, Chance, was killed yesterday. Hit and run near his home in San Francisco. Witnesses said it was a white sedan, but no one got the plate number, make, or model, and the windows were tinted so they couldn’t describe the driver. What does Vanessa drive?”

  “A white 2017 Lexus RX 350.”

  “Is that a sedan?”

  “It is.”

  Bill would have that information as soon as he checked with the DMV on Monday, and he’d pass it along to the SFPD.

  “Can you check her car’s GPS for a location between 4:00 and 4:30 yesterday?”

  “I do have my own work to do, you know.”

  “I know. Sorry.”

  “Hang on a minute.”

  I could hear Michael’s fingers racing over his keyboard, then silence as he undoubtedly wielded his mouse.

  “Son of a bitch,” he muttered somewhere near the phone.

  “What? What happened?”

  Michael picked up the phone again and said, “She disabled the GPS on her Lexus.”

  “What about her cell?”

  “Hang on.”

  I waited impatiently. I really needed my morning coffee before having this kind of conversation.

  “That one’s still working. She may not even be aware of it. The best I can do is tell you that she was near the Beach Street cell tower in San Francisco.”

  “Would that be the Beach Street in the Marina District?”

  “There’s only one Beach Street in San Francisco, so yeah, that would be the one.”

  “Wow. I really wish there was a legal way for Bill to get all this information.”

  “Not my problem.”

  “Thank you, Michael,” I said, but I was talking to dead air. Once again my childhood friend had disconnected without saying goodbye.

  CHAPTER 31

  I’d just brushed my teeth and was getting dressed when my phone began vibrating again. It was Elizabeth, calling to t
ell me they were all going to The Buffet at Bellagio for breakfast. She gave me directions, and I said I’d meet them at the restaurant in a few minutes. I pulled on a pair of cargo shorts and a black silk tank top. Now I just needed shoes. Sandals or cross trainers? If I knew Elizabeth, she’d want to go shopping after breakfast. I chose the cross trainers.

  The Buffet at Bellagio is exactly what it sounds like only magnified by about a thousand percent. We stood in line for thirty minutes, giving us plenty of time to take in all the options. A long buffet bar provided everything from traditional breakfast items to prime rib. There was Asian cuisine, pasta, crab legs and other assorted seafood, and even a dessert bar. There were several live cooking stations, where you could request an omelet or crepes made to order. At one station a chef attendant was preparing delicate, house-made blinis, miniature buckwheat waffles and freshly rolled sushi, according to each guest’s desires. I toyed with the idea of requesting an oyster omelet, but decided scrambled eggs and a bowl of fruit would be less filling.

  As soon as we were seated a waiter approached and offered coffee, tea, and an assortment of juices. I requested the dark roast Columbian I’d seen on the menu. Elizabeth asked for grapefruit juice, Jack ordered Irish Breakfast Tea, and Lily asked for a bloody Mary.

  Once our beverages had been served, our waiter told us to help ourselves to the buffet. It was a major struggle for me to keep from trying a little bit of everything. Thankfully, Elizabeth was by my side chattering about the sights she wanted to take in today, which reminded me I needed to eat light if I was going to keep up with her. I took a small portion of scrambled eggs topped with crème fraîche, a few juicy sections of cantaloupe, and only one crab leg. I had to have that crab leg.

  Elizabeth had one of the chefs make her a crepe with fresh blueberries and ricotta. Lily grabbed enough sausage and bacon to satisfy a linebacker, and two Frisbee sized waffles. Jack decided on poached eggs with a side of tomatoes.

  After breakfast I insisted on going back to my room so I could floss and brush my teeth again. Elizabeth and Lily accompanied me, but Jack said he wanted to try his hand at baccarat.

  When I was once again minty fresh and all of us had used the facilities, Elizabeth announced that our first stop of the day would be 4 Real Intimate Apparel on Fremont Street. She said they specialized in lingerie for large busted women, something the three of us had in common. Rather than waste time searching for parking, Elizabeth used her cell phone to call Eli, our charming OnCabs driver. She’d gotten his cell number at some point yesterday, and he’d agreed to be our chauffer again today.