It All Started...

by David W. Smith

  Kimberly declined the offered forkful as she finished her own salad, spearing the last strawberry. She took a sip of wine as she thought about the possibilities at Disneyland. “If a clue is in one of the shops on Main Street, I wonder where Walt could have hidden it. We have to consider that all of the shops have gone through significant renovations over the last forty years since Walt….” Kimberly paused, never really knowing what word to use to describe Walt’s resting place.

  “Went into hiding?” Lance finished for her with a smile. She nodded, wiping the corner of her mouth with the cloth napkin on her lap. “Yeah, I thought about that possibility too.” Lance angled his chair to the side of the table and turned his face toward the dramatic sights, but he wasn’t really focused on anything external. “I hope that whatever is supposed to be there hasn’t unwittingly been removed by some construction crew.” Lance turned back to the table. “You know, Kimberly, the possibility exists that whatever Walt is sending us to find might very well be at the bottom of a landfill.”

  “Oh, that would be a shame.” Kimberly’s bright smile faded.

  Lance saw the disappointment as it swept across her face. To him, it felt as if the sun had suddenly been obscured by a fogbank. “However,” he reminded her with an attempt at optimism, “I have to say that up to this point, every clue that Walt left had been so thoughtfully worked out that each one of them had been preserved…you know, both unmoved and undetected. It could have been a combination of Walt’s and your father’s efforts.” Lance saw a look of hope come back to Kimberly’s eyes. He felt rewarded. “I don’t see why this one would be any different.”

  “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.” Kimberly grinned while the waiter busied himself by refreshing their wine glasses.

  Lance had something else he wanted to tell her. He waited while the server returned the bottle to the table and then assured them their dinner would be right out. When the waiter turned to another table, Lance took a deep breath and reached out to take Kimberly’s hands in his. “Kimberly.” Lance’s voice was, at the same time, both soft and serious. “Regardless of what we find…or don’t find…” Lance paused to interlock his fingers with hers. He brought his eyes up from their joined hands and looked into her eyes as if he was searching for an answer to a question he hadn’t asked yet. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

  Kimberly was stunned by his words. She felt tears of happiness form in her eyes. Never had she felt such emotion, such hope for the future in her life.

  “I…I don’t ever want to lose you, either, Lance.”

  Instead of catching a show as they had intended, Lance and Kimberly decided to drive down the Strip to the Hard Rock Casino.

  “I want to show you a really good time.” He pulled into the Casino’s valet parking area. The valet helped Kimberly out of the Aston Martin and Lance was given a card in exchange for his keys.

  “You already have.” Once Lance walked around the car to join her, Kimberly slid her arm through his and gave him a light kiss on his cheek. The brown-vested man holding their keys smiled as he looked at the couple, his gaze lingering on the stunning blond. He thanked Lance with a slight bow and offered a “Have a great evening,” before slipping behind the wheel.

  Unseen by Lance or Kimberly, a black Cadillac pulled into the short-term registration parking, lights off and motor idling.

  The pool area of the Hard Rock Casino was restricted to adults only, with an eclectic gathering of people dressed in everything from hand-beaded cocktail dresses to string bikinis. A DJ played music in front of a well-lit dance floor; a number of couples were dancing to the heavy beat permeating from the surround sound system. The tropical flora of the entire pool was complemented by waterfalls, large rock formations, intimate coves and the huge pool itself that literally wove around the three-acre grounds like a maze.

  As they stood taking in the sights, a cocktail waitress, dressed in a bright reddish-orange bikini top and matching sarong-covered bottom, walked up to Lance and Kimberly. They ordered the ‘drink of the night’—an appropriately-named drink called Caribbean Kiss. A mixture of dark rum, Kahlua, and Amaretto, finished with a ring of brown sugar around the rim of the glass, it was as sweet as it was potent.

  “There’s an empty cabana over there,” the pretty brunette pointed out to them. She gave a knowing smile as she handed them the drinks from a small tray held in her hand.

  Lance took a sip and followed where she was pointing. He could see there was indeed a private, curtained cabana with an oversized, stuffed lounge chair for two.

  “Thank you very much.” Lance took a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and set it on her tray. “Keep the change.” Lance took Kimberly’s hand and the two walked around the lighted edge of the pool to the cabana where they could sit facing the middle of the pool. Except for mood lighting that highlighted the tropical plants around the cabana, the interior of the ten-by-ten canvas-covered nook was intimately dark.

  Lance adjusted the back of the lounge so that it tilted up and would be more comfortable, and then took off his jacket. Mindful of the fluttering hem of her dress, Kimberly took her place on one side, Lance on the other.

  Drinks in hand, they settled back against the ample cushions as Lance let out contented sigh. “Doesn’t get much better than this.” He took Kimberly’s hand in his and interlocked their fingers.

  “Thank you for…well, everything.” Kimberly sounded a little shy after taking a slow sip of her drink.

  Lance smiled. “I did this for both of us. We both needed the break,” he told her, squeezing her hand as he leaned over for a kiss.

  Just as he was about to reach her lips, Kimberly’s face went slack.

  “What is it? What’s wrong? I…I was just going to kiss you.” Not sure what to think, Lance drew back when he saw her eyes were wide and her mouth poised as if she were going to scream. It wasn’t the usual reaction he received for a kiss.

  “I…I swear I just saw my uncle Daniel over there behind those trees.” Her hand shook when she set down her glass on a small table next to the lounge.

  “What?!” Lance couldn’t unbelieve it. “No way. Crain…here?” Then as he thought about it for a half second, he realized it wasn’t beyond the scope of reality for the man. “You wait here.” Quickly he set down his drink and bolted from the lounge. Circling the pool, he ran toward a small, dimly-lit grove of palm trees protected by a hedge of manicured shrubs.

  As Lance darted around the cluster of trees, Kimberly remained on the lounge, afraid to move.

  Lance double-checked all the areas around that part of the pool but found no Daniel. He even walked up a secluded path that lead back to the crowded pool. Passing several couples, he asked if they had seen a brown-haired man skulking around the area. Their answer was a surprised no. They had just come from the bar on the other side of the pool.

  Lance returned to Kimberly who still sat where he had left her, unconsciously trembling. “I didn’t see him.” He returned to her side on the lounge. Both looked out over the gardens, their eyes scanning.

  “I could have sworn it was him, Lance.” Kimberly was insistent, trying to validate in her mind what she thought she saw.

  “I believe you, Kimberly. I honestly believe you.” With his comforting arm around her, Kimberly tilted her head onto Lance’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t put it past the idiot to follow us here.” Lance’s eyes never quit moving, his words quiet. “But if it really was him, why would he go to such an extreme?”

  “I don’t know.” Kimberly sounded miserable. “I just know that I don’t trust him.”

  “Yeah, me either.”

  “Can we go, Lance?” Kimberly looked up to search his face. She hoped he wouldn’t be upset with her for cutting short what had been a wonderful evening, but she just couldn’t put her mind at ease.

  “Absolutely.” His welcome response was immediate. As he stood, he reached for Kimberly’s hand.

  “I hope you aren�
��t too disappointed.” Kimberly dropped her eyes as she turned to face him. “I…I just have to get out of here. Whether or not it was Daniel, he has me spooked.”

  “Regardless of who you saw, I want you safe and I want us to be happy.” Lance placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “There will be other evenings. I promise.”

  Relieved by his understanding, Kimberly turned her head and laid it on Lance’s chest. He could feel her heart rapidly beating as he held her. He knew she had seen something that really scared her. And he certainly wouldn’t put it past Daniel Crain to have followed them.

  What made Lance most nervous was the possibility that it really was Crain who Kimberly saw. If he had followed them all the way to Las Vegas, Lance knew he must be desperate. And, from an awful period in his own history, Lance knew a desperate man could do desperate things…. He shook his head at the disquieting thought. Rather than take any chances, he knew he had to get Kimberly away from there.

  Leaving their unfinished drinks in the cabana, they quickly exited the Hard Rock Casino. The valet, surprised they were leaving so soon, fetched the Aston Martin and brought it to a screeching halt at the curb in front of them.

  Lance tipped the attendant who held open Kimberly’s door. He couldn’t help but notice the trailing gaze of the young man watching her. Yes, she is beautiful, isn’t she? Lance shoved the shift lever into gear and pulled out of the hotel’s curved driveway.

  Wanting nothing more than to get back to the Luxor, Lance wanted Kimberly to feel safe and be in a relaxed state of mind. He could see, as she sat in her bucket seat, that she was stiffly upright and her worried eyes darted back and forth out the windshield.

  Lance took her hand as they entered Harmon Avenue, turning right away from the Strip. Checking his rear-view mirror several times to make sure they weren’t followed, they passed the first signal at Koval Lane and turned right onto Paradise Road. There was less traffic on Paradise, a street that paralleled Las Vegas Boulevard. Headed south, they passed through a residential area of Las Vegas, one that certainly didn’t resemble the name of the street.

  Stepping up his pace, he moved into the right lane to turn onto Tropicana Avenue. At the next signal, Lance had to slow down. It looked like there was a major accident ahead on Tropicana. All traffic was being diverted to the left onto Koval Lane.

  “Wow. Looks like the police have more lights on their cars than the hotels.” Lance gave a light laugh as the pulsating blue and red lights on at least three police cars, two paramedic vehicles and a fire truck hurt their eyes.

  The street was literally ablaze with lights. Kimberly looked out her side of the car as Lance followed the traffic onto Koval Lane.

  “Looks like a pretty bad accident.” Kimberly saw two cars surrounded by a shroud of glass on the asphalt. Angled the way they were, Kimberly couldn’t make out what kind of vehicles were involved in the wreck. As Lance finished the turn, she saw from a different angle that one car was black; it was imbedded into the side of what she could now see was a large truck, one with a jacked-up body sitting on large wheels. The front windshield of the car had a large hole in the driver’s side. Not a good sign, Kimberly grimaced as she turned her head from the sight of the wreckage as they continued driving down Koval.

  What Kimberly hadn’t seen was the emblem on the black car; it was the gold laurel wreath of a Cadillac.

  “You all right, Kimberly?” Lance was worried. She’d been silent for quite a while. That alone was enough to tell him that she was still troubled.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” Her remark had been automatic, her mind still centered on the accident they just passed. There was something about it that gave her a feeling of déjà vu. She shook her head in frustration and turned back to Lance. “I’m just….” Suddenly, Kimberly shrieked as she saw a car careen over toward Lance’s side of the Aston Martin. “Look out, Lance!” Kimberly screamed as she grabbed the front dash of the car.

  At her warning, Lance’s head jerked to his left just in time to see the car sliding toward him. He punched the gas pedal, knowing her car can do zero-to-sixty in five seconds. The V-12 roared into action, throwing their heads back as the car immediately pulled away. With a sickening grind, they heard—and felt—the impact as the other car glanced off their rear bumper. Had they stayed in place, Lance would have been T-boned.

  “Dang!” Lance yanked the wheel to the right. The rack-and-pinion steering responded instantly, swerving them away from the impact. Still accelerating, Lance could see there were no cars parked along the side of the road where he had slid. Mind racing as fast as the car, he stayed in the designated bicycle lane, glad that the late night hour didn’t encourage many night riders. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he wanted to see what happened to the other car. But, he couldn’t see any headlights.

  Even though the Aston Martin had been going only about thirty miles per hour at the time of the impact, they were now doing almost sixty. Still seeing only darkness behind their car, Lance felt it was safe to pull over. He stopped the car so they could regroup and check the damage to Kimberly’s car. “The other car had to be a drunk driver.” Lance assumed that the man—or woman—must have panicked, slammed on their brakes and headed in a different direction away the collision. As he reached to open the door to get out, he was shocked to see headlights suddenly glaring in his side mirror and coming straight at them. “What the…!” Lance yelled at the mirror, seeing how rapidly the other car was nearing.

  Kimberly turned and saw it too and let out a yell. “Lance, look out!”

  Pushing the start button, the engine immediately roared to life. Lance jammed it into gear and swerved back into the lane, accelerating at full throttle. He could see he was quickly coming up on a van in the slower of the two lanes. Lance had less than one second to make a decision—slam on the brakes or gun it.

  He chose the latter and yanked the wheel quickly to the left, narrowly missing the rear bumper of the mini-van in front of him. Lance quickly straightened the wheel to avoid the angry honking on-coming traffic, all without losing control of the fine sports car.

  When he heard the horns come from behind, Lance took the chance of looking in the rear view mirror once again. Apparently the mini-van had been forced off the road by the other car. It was then that he truly was unnerved.

  Gaining speed, even as the other car bore down on them, he could make out that it was a black Cadillac. And he was shocked when he saw that it was being driven by Daniel Crain.

  Lance didn’t have the time or the inclination to share that bit of information with Kimberly at the moment. Instead, he was intently focused on finding a way out of a very dangerous situation and yet still manage to drive at over sixty miles an hour in a thirty-five zone.

  On the road in front of them, Lance saw a yellow sign off to the side with a black arrow that made a ninety-degree right turn, showing that the road curved up ahead. Lance now knew that he had the edge.

  “Hang on, darling.” Through gritted teeth, he gave the brief warning to Kimberly who was white-faced, but silent.

  In the moment it took Lance to see the sign and talk to Kimberly, the Cadillac had roared up behind them to bang twice into their already-damaged rear bumper. The force caused the car to jerk to the left toward on-coming traffic as Kimberly gave a scared whimper, closing her eyes. Immediately regaining control of the steering wheel, Lance took a chance and gunned the engine even faster. Pulling away from the Caddy for a brief moment was all the advantage he needed. Sensing that Crain was trying to push the Aston Martin across the road into the heavy on-coming traffic, Lance moved into the center turn lane, then hit the brakes as he turned the wheel hard to the right. As expected, the sports car went into a sideways slide for about twenty feet. Lance then slammed his foot back onto the accelerator and deftly turned the wheel to correct his slide. Immediately the wheels stopped skidding, grabbed pavement, and he regained full control as the road turned sharply to the right.

  Luckily, there were no cars directl
y in front of the Aston Martin as Lance retained control of the speeding vehicle and applied the brakes in short pulses.

  Kimberly was holding on to the door handle and the bottom of her seat the whole time, too afraid to even scream.

  As Lance anticipated, the heavy Cadillac couldn’t negotiate the hard right turn at the high speed that it was traveling. Slowing down, both Lance and Kimberly whipped their heads around as they watched the black car’s uncontrolled skid across two lanes of traffic. Four cars in the eastbound lanes saw the headlights and what was happening and slammed on their brakes in time. In what seemed like slow motion, the Cadillac continued to slide sideways across the street, white smoke billowing from the straining tires.

  In another second, as the Caddy hit the curb, its left side wheels bent sideways. The car’s momentum carried it over the curb where it then slammed into a light pole and a fire hydrant, neither object doing much to slow the big car. In a spray of sparks from the undercarriage dragging on the ground, the car swept sideways into the corner of an empty video store taking out a huge chunk of the building’s graffiti-covered stucco before coming to a full stop. The back half of the Cadillac was buried, crushed in the debris.

  Lance had slowed down long enough to see that there was no explosion or fire as he feared might occur.

  “Shouldn’t we stop?” Eyes wide, Kimberly turned to Lance as he pulled onto a side street before they reached Las Vegas Boulevard. He made another right turn into a dark cul-de-sac and pulled over to the curb.

  “Kimberly.” Lance was breathing hard as he turned off the lights and killed the engine. “That car was a black Cadillac.” He could see the association was already being made by Kimberly. He knew there hadn’t been time for her to recognize the car or the driver. She more than likely had had her eyes closed during most of the chase.