Det. Loweman was being ushered into the foyer by the housekeeper when Kasey reached the living room. Without preamble he said, “What is it? Where is everyone?”
She told him. For the second time that afternoon, she walked down the long hallway to the master bedroom, this time accompanied by the detective and housekeeper.
When they were close enough to see into the room, Loweman bellowed, “Don’t touch that. Don’t touch anything.”
Jay, who was just about to reach into the box, hesitated. He straightened, stepped back, and placed a protective arm around Dianne.
“Hello, Frank,” Dianne said when he entered the room.
“Dianne.”
“How’s Marla these days?”
“Marlene is fine. I’ll tell her you asked.”
“We’ll have to get together for another barbecue soon.”
“Yeah. Real soon.”
Kasey sensed a definite coolness between the two.
Loweman bent over, used his pen to lift the teddy by one strap, and placed it on the bed. Next, he separated the black tissue paper to reveal the note. Kasey and Jay read over his shoulder.
Black becomes you. RIP.
“RIP. Rest in peace,” Loweman said. He turned to the housekeeper. “Did you see or hear anyone around the house?”
“Well, when Mrs. King was taking her afternoon dip, I thought I heard the patio door slide open. I looked. No one was there. I thought it was only the wind.”
“What time?”
“Noon. Just before I served lunch.”
Loweman turned to Dianne. “Dianne?”
“I don’t recall anything. I swam, had lunch on the patio, then sunbathed for another thirty minutes or so. When I came in to shower and change, I found the box lying on the bed. I thought it was from Jay. I called him at the club to let him know I’d found it.”
“You have an alarm, right?”
“It wasn’t on,” Dianne said defensively. “I don’t see any reason to set it when I’m right outside and Helga is inside.”
Loweman cleared his throat. “I’ll get a team over here. I’ll need comparison prints from the three of you.”
“Helga, thank you,” Jay said. “You can go back to whatever you were doing. Frank, can we talk a minute?”
“Am I being excused, too?” Dianne said. “Are we going to continue to play the game of sheltering faint-hearted Dianne from all the bad things in the world?”
Jay looked thoroughly admonished. “Di—no, you’re right, of course. I’m sorry. This concerns you and you have every right to be in on it.” He turned back to Loweman. “Frank, the murders at the club, they’re tied in with this.”
“How do you figure? We got our man. Jay.”
“Has he confessed?”
“It’s only a matter of time.”
“You’ve got the wrong man. Whoever brought that box into this house and wrote that note has targeted me and my family. He’s after me, and I don’t think he’ll stop at one or two murders.”
“A coincidence, Jay, nothing more. The diamond ring we found in Ruiz’s locker, the one that belonged to the victim in Room eight-fourteen, is worth somewhere in the neighborhood of three grand. We also found close to a thousand dollars in cash and chips inside a man’s sock in Inez Ramos’s locker. The sock matched a pair that Nicker had. Gray argyle with a pink diamond pattern. Not your everyday jock sock. Looks like a solid connection to me.”
“That only proves that Inez Ramos’s killer robbed the woman in eight-fourteen and probably the man in six-thirty-four,” Kasey said. “It doesn’t prove it was Ruiz, or that Ruiz and Ramos were partners in crime. The killer could have seen the man and woman together and devised a plan. It’s easy enough to plant evidence in a locker. Where’s the other six grand that Nicker claims was in the sock?”
“Ruiz hid it, of course. Or he gave it to Inez Ramos.”
“Why would he leave some in his locker? No one’s that stupid.”
“You don’t know the average criminal mind. If they had any brains, they wouldn’t have to resort to crime.”
“Ruiz is being set up,” Kasey said. “There’s a housekeeper by the name of Paula Volger. She was a friend of the dead woman. Talk to her; I think she knows something.”
Loweman wrote down the name. “Why hasn’t she come forward?”
“My guess is she’s afraid.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll keep looking. Naturally, we’re going to take these threats to you and Dianne seriously,” Loweman said to Jay. “From now on, I advise you to keep the alarm on twenty-four hours a day. Does your system have a panic button?”
“Yes,” Jay said. “Behind the headboard.”
“Is there a gun in the house?”
Jay strode to the nightstand, opened the drawer, “Right here on my si—” He stopped abruptly, looked up. “It’s not here.”
“I have it,” Dianne said softly. She reached into the pocket of her terry robe and carefully brought out a chrome-plated .38 automatic. She looked at her husband. “I wasn’t as blasé about this as I made out to be.”
Kasey saw the tremor of Dianne’s hand as she passed the gun to her husband. From her other pocket she brought out a cigarette and lighter.
Jay took the lighter and lit her cigarette. “You’re getting a bodyguard,” he said.
“The first step is to safeguard the property,” Loweman said.
“That’s impossible. On this ridge with its natural rock formations there’s no way to put up a security fence.”
Loweman pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dianne, is there somewhere you can go for a while?”
“Her mother’s,” Jay said. “In Utah.”
“No,” Dianne said sharply. “You know I can’t stay with her, not in that tiny house. She smothers me. The house smothers me. The town smothers me. No, not there.”
“A friend?” Loweman asked.
Dianne took a moment to contemplate, chewed at her lip. Finally, she shook her head. “No. No one I’d want to stay with. I was never the type to bond closely with other women. Except for Kasey here, I have no—what one would call—intimate friends.”
Despite the fact that Kasey believed their friendship had deteriorated over the years, she couldn’t help but feel touched by Dianne’s admission and, before she knew what she was saying, it was already out. “There’s a vacant room at my mother’s boardinghouse. It came available just this morning. It’s small, but clean and homey. You’re welcome to it, Dianne.”
Dianne seemed to blanch at the idea of living, even temporarily, in a boardinghouse. “Oh, you’re sweet to offer, and it would be such fun to have you so near—now don’t take this the wrong way, Kasey—but, I need to be a little closer to the action. It’s so damn remote out there. I’d go stir-crazy. You’re not upset with me, are you?”
Kasey shook her head. Secretly, she was relieved. Being that close to Dianne day in and day out could drive a final wedge into their already questionable relationship. But aside from how the friendship would hold up, Kasey’s greatest concern was for the safety of the others at her mother’s house. If a killer were out to get Jay and the members of his family and he were as clever as Kasey thought he was, he’d have little trouble finding Dianne at the ranch.
“The hotel,” Dianne said, crushing her cigarette out in a tiny crystal ashtray. “We’ll move into the hotel. What better place? It’s like a fortress, security all around.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jay said. “I’m not sure security is any better there. The room burglaries—”
“Hire more security,” Dianne cut in. “Besides, no one can get into the rooms if the deadbolts are in place. It’s settled. We’ll sleep in the suite tonight.” She turned to Kasey. “Will you help me pack, Kasey?”
Kasey looked at Jay. When he nodded, she said, “Sure.”
*
For the first quarter-hour Kasey had moved from one side of the room to the other, trying to stay out of the way of a crime scene investiga
tor as he dusted for prints and Dianne, who moved from closet to highboy to bathroom gathering clothes and personal items and packing them into a half-dozen Gucci bags.
“What can I do?” Kasey asked for the third time.
Dianne looked up, puzzled. “Do? Oh. Of course. Jay needs some things. His bathroom’s on the left. Would you get his toiletries?’’
“Is it okay?” Kasey asked the investigator as he left the bathroom.
He nodded.
“And that’s his closet behind you. Four changes should be enough.”
“Dianne, I don’t know what he wan—”
“Nonsense. Four suits, one of each color, and a tie to match.”
In the bathroom Kasey found an empty nylon travel bag. She felt strange, intrusive, about to go through Jay’s private medicine cabinet and drawers; but at the rate Dianne was going, they would be here all day. Into the bag she put a green toothbrush with yellow and white bristles, toothpaste, mouthwash, and roll-on deodorant.
On a shelf above the sink, she found an old, worn leather case, rolled up and tied. Inside, lined up like battle-scarred soldiers, were six straight razors. Fascinated, Kasey examined them. Each one bore a different handle: bone, mother-of-pearl, brass-lined steel, ivory. What appeared to be the most used razor was also the least adorned. The handle, a dull-luster finish, had the initials RGK crudely carved at the bottom. Ralph G. King. Jay’s father.
On the sink sat a mug with a shaving brush and soap. She touched the brush. Damp. It was hard to believe that a man in the ‘90s would shave the old-fashioned way. Kasey’s own grandfather had given up the brush and straight razor for an electric Remington when her father was a boy. Either Jay was spoiled from barbershop shaves or he was sentimental. She suspected the latter.
When she opened the medicine cabinet, a plastic bottle fell into the sink. She shook the bottle. Empty. Odd. Why would Jay keep an empty medicine container? She put it back.
Bottles of aftershave and cologne filled an entire shelf. All were full except one. Navarro. She put it to her nose and breathed in. Yes, this was the clean, fresh fragrance that Jay wore. Several times she had caught a subtle whiff of it on him. In the elevator the first day, on his jacket yesterday in the basement when he had put it over her shoulders, and again in his car that very morning. Kasey closed her eyes and breathed it in again, the fragrance evoked sharp images of Jay.
Kasey’s eyes snapped open. The bottle fell to the floor. She quickly snatched it up, capped it, grabbed a wad of tissue, and wiped up what had spilled. She shoved the aftershave bottle deep into the bag with the other toiletries, struggled several seconds with the zipper until it finally caught and closed. On her way out, she found the razor strop hanging on the back of the door. She crammed it into the bag.
“Kasey, never mind Jay’s clothes; Helga is going to take care of it.” Dianne closed the last suitcase. “Ready?”
She couldn’t explain it, but knowing she wouldn’t have to enter Jay’s closet and go through his personal wardrobe gave Kasey a feeling of relief. “Ready,” she said, almost too eagerly.
Chapter Twenty-Two
After helping Dianne get settled into the suite that Jay kept available on the top floor, Kasey found Jay in the screening room that adjoined his office. He sat at the table of monitors, his shirtsleeves rolled up, a pile of papers and envelopes spread out in front of him.
“Dianne finally released you,” he said, standing and pulling off the frameless glasses he wore when reading.
She walked past him, switched on a monitor. “You should have told her, Jay.”
“I know that, Kasey. Didn’t I admit as much to her? Christ, I never thought he’d be so brazen as to go to my house.”
“He’s playing games,” she said. “He could have hurt her. He was inside the house, in her bedroom. All he had to do was wait for her to come to him.”
Jay was silent. She could guess what kind of pictures were going through his mind. Why was she being so hard on him? Was it payback for the deceptive images that had come to her in his bathroom earlier that afternoon? Did she want to fight with him so that she wouldn’t fall in love with him instead?
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to Dianne,” he said quietly. “She’s had to put up with a lot of crap lately. I know what she wants from our marriage. I know what she wants from life; but until my needs are fulfilled, I can’t fulfill hers. Does that sound terrible, Kasey?”
Kasey looked away, ran fingers through her hair, then shook her head “I don’t know.”
She felt his eyes on her again. She knew that if she looked at him, he would hold her gaze a moment longer than necessary; and ridiculous as it sounded, each of those moments drew her in closer, bound him tighter to her.
She switched on another monitor. “Shall we get to work?”
He handed her a key. “It opens the door to this room from the hallway. Come and go whenever you like. If I’m not here, feel free to anything in my office, bar, phone, whatever. You remember how to open the connecting door?”
“I think so.”
He pushed out the chair beside him. When she sat, he leaned over her, pulled the stack of papers to her. She caught a whiff of his cologne before he leaned back.
“The stuff you asked to see. Security personnel. Names, positions, shifts. Structural blueprints. Schematics indicating every egress, emergency or otherwise, every surveillance camera, catwalk, two-way mirror, and…well, you get the picture.”
“Let’s start with security.”
“I did a little homework before you showed up. It might save some time. Omitting graveyard and concentrating on the other two shifts, we have a total of twenty officers, not counting the shift supervisor or the chief of security. Nine of the twenty came on this spring. Seasonal temps. Of the nine, two are women and one is black. That leaves six.”
“Photos?”
“Black-and-white photocopies of the police shots. Pretty much worthless. Sparks PD have the originals.”
“Okay, then, this is what we’re looking for. He’s about six foot even. Approximately forty-years-old. Brown hair, very thin in front. Average build—no, above average; he filled out his uniform better than most. Don’t know his eye color. I only saw him once in the parking garage, and most of that time he had a handkerchief to his face.” She told Jay about Paula Volger hitting him in the nose and making it bleed. A chilling image of the man’s eyes flashed across her mind—eyes filled with rage and malevolence. “However, I think I would recognize his eyes. His complexion was tan, though he seems to be of Nordic or Scandinavian ancestry. Likes the sun. Sportsman, probably.”
“Doesn’t sound like anyone I know. Temp, I’d say. If we don’t spot him tonight, you can have a look through the police files.” He tapped a paper in front of her. “Anyway, here are the names of the six.”
Kasey turned to look at Jay. She grinned. “Very good. I’ll make a spotter out of you yet.”
“Yeah. I may have to find another line of work in the near future. Whoever’s trying to bring down the club is doing a pretty good job of it. Three maids quit today. Head of housekeeping told me they were scared out of their wits. I guess having a fellow worker found dead in the basement goes beyond an occupational hazard. We’ve had room cancellations— enough to know the two murders being played up by the media is definitely responsible. The Gaming Board is starting to snoop around, and the bank is asking leading questions. And now this thing at the house today.”
“I’m sorry, Jay.”
He shrugged. “Let’s just find the bastard, and quick.”
“Naturally, the simplest way to go about this is to interview each security officer. But I’d rather not have him know we suspect him, not yet anyway. It may take a little longer doing it this way, but when we do find him—this man who seems to always be in the wrong place at the wrong time—we can observe him without his being aware of it. It’s a game of time and circumstances, Jay, and it could take awhile. Are you prepared to play?”
“What choice do I have? Discovering who he is and firing him isn’t going to make him stop. Something is driving this man, and until I find out what it is, I’m completely at his mercy.
“It’s possible the guard may not be involved at all. As I said, it’s more a gut feeling.”
“I trust your gut feelings.”
Kasey checked the time: 4:04. For the next two hours, the security day and swing shifts would alternate completely.
Jay switched on the rest of the monitors, then dimmed the overhead lights.
Two monitors were keyed into the pan-n-tilt camera at the Time Office—a checkin point for hotel casino workers. The remaining monitors were keyed to fixed-focus cameras which were set at every entrance. The picture quality varied from one monitor to another.
Jay fiddled with several controls. “After the renovation, the first thing to go will be this outdated surveillance system. Nothing but state-of-the-art equipment, color cameras, the works for the new club. It’s expensive, but in no time it sure as hell pays for itself.”
“Anything is an improvement from the days of two-way mirrors, catwalks, and peepholes,” Kasey said.
“When my brother and I were kids, we used to sneak into the old eye and play war on the catwalk, looking down on the casino action through the mirrors, pretending we were on a reconnaissance mission. That all ended the night Travis accidently dropped his rifle and it broke through the mirror, landing right in the middle of a crowded dice table. He felt the old man’s razor strop for that one.”
“What about you? Were you punished?”
“Uh-uh. I hid out in this tiny room that no one knew about but Travis and me. It was sort of our clubhouse.”
On the monitor, Kasey saw a handful of employees enter the Time Office. She tapped the screen. She and Jay sat back, their full attention now on the monitors.
*
KA-BOOM! The report echoed through the canyon. It sounded like a small cannon, followed by rolling thunder. “Gotcha,” the Monk said under his breath. He put the end of the gun’s muzzle to his mouth and blew the fine ribbon of smoke away. He breathed in the cordite, a pungent odor that he liked, an odor as intoxicating, as stimulating as a woman primed for sex.
Mortal Crimes 2 Page 113