“If you say so,” Leonard said. “You’ll have to fill me in.”
“Jake Jameson is probably the hottest underwear designer in the world. He has a huge gay following. Look at all those twinkie boys surrounding him.”
“I don’t know what a twinkie boy is.”
“A super young, hairless gay guy,” Skyler said, matter-of-factly. “Anyway, that’s who that is.”
“I’m unimpressed.” Leonard accepted the drinks from the attendant. “Um, my wallet is in the room.”
“Your wallet isn’t necessary, sir,” the young man said. And he was off.
“You need to get out more often,” Skyler said. “It’ll just appear on the room bill later.”
“I could get used to this,” Leonard said.
“Once you experience this level of service, you’re kind of spoiled for life,” Skyler said. “I was once with a bunch of girlfriends at the Hyatt in St. John a few years ago and there was no wait staff at the pool. Ruined the entire weekend.”
“You are spoiled. Oh, so I have some news.”
“You learned something new and scandalous about Ricardo Solis?”
“Yes, I did, but that’s not what I was talking about. I talked to my dad just now. Your golden boy Tanner is a suspect in the Gerald Gains shit.”
Skyler bolted upright, nearly toppling her drink. “What did you just say?”
“Your best friend killed Gains’ alpacas and stuck a Chowder House kitchen knife into the man’s front door.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You know he’d never do something like that. What would be his motive? When would he even have the time? No, Leonard, Tanner didn’t do any of that. I’ll bet my life on it.”
“You’re jaded because he’s your friend.”
“Leonard!” she screamed. “Not Tanner. Never. No way!”
“I’m just telling you what my father said. Finger prints don’t lie.”
“Maybe not, but there must be some kind of explanation. Porter, I would believe. But Tanner? No way.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
“Because I am very upset and I need to get back to Maine. This is insane.”
“Can we finish this up first?” Leonard pleaded. “One crime investigation at a time.”
“I’m calling him,” Skyler said. She tapped on her iPhone and held it to her ear. It went right to voicemail. “Tanner, what the fuck? It’s Skyler. Call me as soon as you get this. No matter what time. What the fuck?!” She threw the phone down onto her chair.
“You need to calm down.”
“I’m calm,” she said. “I need another drink.”
“Garçon!” Leonard called out to the pool attendant.
“We’re in Miami,” Skyler said, “not Paris.”
TWENTY-ONE
At a quarter to seven Leonard was lying on the hotel bed flipping through the television channels while he waited for Skyler to finish up in the bathroom. His cell phone rang and he muted the TV.
“Leonard Little.”
“This is Ricardo Solis. My housekeeper tells me that you paid a visit to my house earlier this afternoon?”
“I did,” Leonard said, standing up. He started pacing the room. “Thank you for calling. Sir, would it be possible for my partner and I to come see you? We have a few questions about an ongoing investigation. We think you might be able to shine some light on a few things for us.”
“An investigation into what, Officer?”
“I assume you saw from my card that I am with the Wabanaki Police Department?”
“I did see that, yes.”
“We’d like to ask you about Patty Little. My wife.”
There was silence.
“Mr. Solis?”
“I’m here. I don’t know how much you know, Officer Little, but Patty and I knew each other. Briefly.”
“I do know that, sir.” Skyler came out of the bathroom and Leonard put a finger to his lips. “Sir, this would be much better in person. Can we come see you, please?”
“Is Patty okay?”
“Sir. In person?”
“I have quite a number of people coming to a dinner party at my house tonight, Officer Little, and I am afraid I am going to be quite tied up. It’s business and it can’t be delayed. The Mayor is coming. How about tomorrow morning? My house at 10 o’clock?”
“That would be fine. We’ll see you then.”
“Officer, I was quite fond of your wife. But I must tell you, I have a wife of my own. I need some discretion.”
“I just have questions, sir. We’re not going to plaster this all over the front page of the newspaper. But, I assume you knew that she was married, too?” Leonard’s heart was racing.
“I did not know that when I first met her, no. Can this wait until tomorrow?”
“It can.”
“I will alert the guard at the gate.” And he hung up without saying goodbye.
“Solis?” Skyler asked.
“Yes. We’re going to see him at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”
“Good. Then we can make the 2:35 flight to Portland.”
“Maybe. But what if this Solis fellow opens a whole new can of worms?”
Skyler was towel drying her hair while looking in the mirror. She had another wrapped around her body. “It’ll be your can of worms, Leonard,” she said turning to him. “I need to go help Tanner.”
“Skyler to the rescue. What about me? I thought you came down here to help.”
“And I’m helping. But who knew that the shit was going to hit the fan as soon as we left town? I started helping him before I started helping you.”
“Thank goodness you aren’t charging any of us.”
“Who says I’m not?” she asked. She dropped the towels and walked towards him. “One more time before dinner?”
“You’re insatiable.”
“It’s been awhile. I’m making up for lost time.”
“And I am happy to oblige.” And he took her up against the mirror.
* * *
Just as Brenda was finishing up an interview with a potential new head chef—she was seriously considering stealing a very well-liked guy away from Mason Reeves’ Del Gato restaurant at the Bellagio, and knew she’d get some major shit for it—a text arrived from Skyler.
Quick update: Accidently fucked Lenny multiple times. Found the guy who paid for Patty’s ticket. Meeting with him in the morning. Tanner has been implicated in the Gains’ alpaca murders. News at 11.
Brenda slipped into the empty back office at Brenda’s Kitchen and called Skyler’s cell.
“It’s not 11 yet,” Skyler said when she picked up. “And I’m at a restaurant having dinner.”
“How on Earth am I supposed to read a text like that and not call you immediately? Have
you talked to Tanner?”
“Not yet,” Skyler said. “Listen, I have to go. I will call you tomorrow and tell you everything I know.”
“And Leonard? Really?”
“Tomorrow, tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
“You’re a big fat tease and I hate you.” Brenda hung up the phone. She wasn’t all that surprised that Skyler and Leonard were screwing on their Florida trip; she didn’t believe it for a second when Skyler announced that she was done with men. And, Leonard was a hot piece of ass, albeit a dumbass. She was surprised to find herself a tad bit jealous. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex with anyone other than herself.
“Miss Braxton?” A cute little wisp of a restaurant hostess stood in the doorway. “Your next appointment is here. He insisted on going directly to the bar. He ordered a drink.”
“I don’t have another appointment tonight.”
“Well, he thinks you do.”
Brenda straightened her skirt and headed to the large mahogany bar. When she laid eyes on
Mason Reeves, she knew no one was capable of secrets anymore.
“It took me forever to convince that guy to come work for me,” Mason said without saying hello. “And you’re taking him away just like that?”
Brenda pulled out a stool and sat next to her new rival. She pointed at a bottle of sparkling wine and a waiter promptly poured her a glass. “This is my very own line of cava. It’s produced in Catalonia exclusively for my restaurants. You shouldn’t be drinking a boring old beer.”
“Brenda,” Mason said. “Please.”
“Mason, he came to me. I didn’t force him. I put out the word that I needed someone new and that I was willing to give her, or him as the case may be, a lot of creative input into the new menus. That’s it. If your guy wants to jump ship and come work here at the fabulous new Golden Cactus Resort, in Brenda’s Kitchen, who am I to say no?” She took a sip of her wine and then asked, “How’d you know, anyway?”
“I followed him over.”
“That’s fucking creepy, Mason. What are you even doing here anyway? Don’t you host like 87,000 television shows these days?”
“We’re shooting Hot Chef in Vegas all week. But I have the night off. I’m actually going to the Carissa Lamb concert with my wife tonight. She’s playing slots in the high rollers room.”
“I’ve never been lucky on those damned machines.”
“She wins. I don’t know how,” Mason said, finishing his beer and ordering another. “She won $18,000 just last week over at The Mirage.”
“And exactly how much did she spend to win that $18,000?” Brenda asked, skeptically.
“I don’t know. A lot, I guess.”
“Mmm hmm. Luckily, you can afford it. And you can afford to hire a new chef. If he wants the job, it’s his. Sorry.”
“You’re the bitch I always thought you were.”
Brenda nodded. “Maybe. But you love me.”
“Kinda, sorta, not really.” Mason stood up and took his beer with him. “I assume the beers are on you?” And he disappeared onto the casino floor.
“Mother fucker,” Brenda said a bit too loudly. She noticed a couple staring at her from a few stools down, so she put her best smile back on her face. “How are you two tonight? Celebrating something special?”
“Well,” the husband said, “it just happens to be our 44th wedding anniversary.”
“Happy anniversary.” She turned to the bartender. “Their drinks and dinner are on me.”
“Oh gosh, that’s not necessary,” the wife nearly squealed.
“It is, and it’s completely my pleasure. I own the place, you know.” Brenda stood up after her cava was topped off. “You two enjoy your dinner and make sure to tell all your friends how nice I am. Not everyone believes it.”
“We will,” the wife gushed. “We’re big fans.”
“Thank you,” Brenda said. She patted the husband on the back and walked briskly toward the back office and away from the world. She had her drink and, later, the Carissa show to look forward to.
The concert was spectacular, Brenda thought. Carissa had saved her a table right near the stage and pulled out every one of Brenda’s favorites during her set. When it was over, the chef slipped through the door to the right of the main stage as directed and waited for someone to notice her. A young stagehand greeted her warmly and escorted her through a long maze of hallways until they arrived at a large red door marked with Carissa’s name in gold cursive lettering. Inside, Brenda was shocked to find what looked more like a high-end condo than the dingy backstage dressing rooms she was used to. There was a stunning crystal chandelier overhead, a large semi-circular white leather sofa, an equally white grand piano in the corner, a fully stocked bar, and an open stairway that led to a second floor. Brenda found herself alone in the room so she sidled up to the bar and inspected the goods. And they were all top notch.
“Help yourself to anything,” Carissa said from the top of the stairs. She had changed out of the long flowing white dress she wore at the end of her show, into a pair of tight black jeans, white high heels, and a red blouse. She was stunning.
“Oh, Carissa, that show was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen in Las Vegas. Or anywhere for that matter. Truly amazing.”
Carissa had descended the stairs and was reaching for a bottle of vodka. “You are too kind. I totally fucked up the Market for Love number. Flat!”
“If you did, no one noticed. I didn’t notice,” Brenda said. “It was just so great. The sets, the costumes, the lighting, those dancers. Everything. The band, too. How many pieces are there?”
“We have a 23-piece orchestra down there. I just love when they rise up out of the floor on that giant elevator. It’s like magic. That cost the casino quite a bit of money, I’ll tell you. They’ve been so lovely though. They’ll pretty much do anything to beat Celine and Caesars Palace.”
“Celine is wonderful, too, of course” Brenda said, “but, man, I was blown away tonight.”
“Celine came to opening night. I was a basket case. But you know, we’ve never met.”
“I’m surprised. You two are so alike.”
“So I have been told every single day of my career.”
“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. Such a cliché.”
Carissa poured two vodkas on the rocks and handed one to Brenda. The heavy crystal low ball had Carissa’s signature etched on the glass. “Don’t apologize for anything. And, anyway, we all get compared to other people. It’s the media’s favorite thing to do. How many times does Ina Garten’s name come up in the same sentence as yours?”
“More times than I’d like, I’ll tell you that. Truth be told, I’ve never met the bitch. Anyway, I’m so different than her and her style of cooking. And she doesn’t have restaurants all over the country, does she? In sparkling new casino hotels!”
“Right?” Carissa said. “Let’s go sit on the couch before they arrive.”
“Who’s coming?”
“Just Ina.”
Brenda was sure her heart stopped.
“I’m kidding! It’s just a couple people who paid for meet and greets tonight. Just a few. Listen, if they want to spend $1,500 to see my show, I can put on some lipstick and stand for a few pictures. It won’t kill me.”
“You’re a saint!” They both roared with laughter until a young assistant appeared in the doorway.
“See them in. I’m ready.”
“First up is Charlie and Frank from Mesa, Arizona,” the assistant said as she consulted a clipboard. The two impeccably dressed men cautiously entered the room, their mouths hanging open.
“Come in, my Mesa, Arizona boys,” Carissa yelled, jumping to her feet. “Welcome, welcome. How did you like the show?”
Brenda remained seated and was thoroughly impressed as she watched the pop star do her magic. She made the sweet gay couple feel like true royalty. When one of the gentleman noticed who Brenda was, they insisted she join in on a group photo.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, you didn’t come to see me,” Brenda said, but got to her feet anyway. She smiled for the camera and just as the last shot was taken, she felt a hand grope her ass. Her eyes shot open as wide as they would go, but she didn’t say a word. Because of the positioning, it couldn’t have possibly been one of the gay guys.
Carissa and Brenda said goodnight to their guests and the men were ushered out of the dressing room. Alone again, they collapsed on the couch with their drinks. Carissa slipped out of her heels.
“These fuckers can come off now,” she said.
“I’ve never worn high heels a day in my life,” Brenda said, trying desperately to figure out why she was goosed by the superstar. “A chef’s life, I guess.”
“You’d be darling in them. What size do you wear?”
“6.”
“Me too!” Carissa screamed. “Try them on. I want to see.”
>
“Oh lordy.” Brenda pulled off her flats and wiggled her toes into the heels. She stood up and then immediately fell back onto the couch. “Carissa! How do you walk in these things?”
“They look amazing on you,” she said. “But I guess they aren’t for everyone. I dance in these fuckers.”
“I noticed. Amazing. Are you hungry?”
“I’m starving,” the singer said. “What should I have? I love it all, you know. I think my favorite thing on the menu is the Wagyu Steak Diane. It melts in my fucking mouth.”
“I’m very pleased that you like the most expensive thing on the menu. Thank you for helping me make the mortgage payment on my apartment in Manhattan.”
“It’s so good. I like the wedge salad with the smoked bacon, the baked chicken is amaz-balls, and I probably have the salmon once a week. Brenda, if you weren’t a world-renowned chef, I’d tell you that you should be, because it’s all just the best.”
“Thank you,” Brenda blushed.
“I sound like an idiot. Shall we go?”
“Let’s.”
“And I’m sorry for grabbing your ass,” Carissa said after getting back into her heels. “I honestly thought it was the taller guy I was grabbing until it was too late.”
“Would he have appreciated that?”
“Are you kidding me? He would have told that story for years!”
At Brenda’s Kitchen, the new friends sat in a circular corner banquette and Brenda ordered for the two of them. Everything she asked for was custom; nothing from the printed menu. Carissa was beside herself with excitement. The pop star was covering up her trademark shock of red hair with a dark, brown wig to keep the fans at bay. So far, it was working.
They munched on garlic salt dusted popcorn, lightly breaded calamari, and assorted artisanal olives while they waited for the main dishes to arrive.
“What is this pink sauce for the octopus?” Carissa asked.
“House made mayonnaise, some Sriracha, paprika. It’s quite simple, actually.”
“Simple is good. I love it.”
“Thank you,” Brenda said. “So, is this wig thing a usual get-up for you?”
Carissa smoothed the synthetic hair around her ears. “It’s become a thing, yeah. I look ridiculous and I know that, but it allows me to go out and have a semblance of peace. It’s not easy being green.”
The Maine Nemesis Page 16