“You mean ‘he,’ don’t you?”
“We shall see what we shall see.”
“Fortunately,” Nina said. “You already have both.”
“No preference, right,” said Matt.
“But he’d prefer a boy,” Andrea said.
“Not so! Just so she can drive a tow truck in winter.”
“You’ve already got her grown up and employed, Matt. She doesn’t even have the manual dexterity to operate a rattle yet. Or even fingers, for that matter.”
They teased each other for a few minutes.
Nina, who had been fiddling with things on the stove, stood nearby watching and smiling. In another of her shifty moods, she was now acting shy, not meeting Paul’s eyes, which were conveying his message loud and clear. When the pot whistled, she poured tea and honey in a mug, then handed it to Andrea, who gulped it down. Nina sipped tea. Paul finished his beer.
“You ever thought of having kids, Paul?” Matt asked, moving his chair next to his wife’s and putting an arm around her.
“I’m not married at the moment,” he said. “Not that that stops a lot of people these days, but I’m old-fashioned that way.”
“You’re what, forty? You must think about it. . . .”
“Yeah, Paul,” Andrea said. “Do like Matt. Plan for one to take over the family business. She could grow up to be a detective just like her daddy.”
“Ha, ha,” said Paul, getting up. “Like I said, there’s the small question of a mother for this imaginary being to settle first.”
“So you’d have kids if you could?” Matt asked.
Paul felt Nina’s curiosity emanating from across the table. “Can this man be trusted with the government of others? Perhaps history will answer this question, as Jefferson, his words adjusted to the situation and butchered, once said.”
“In other words, you decline to state. I find that telling,” said Matt.
Paul said, “I’m sorry to have to drink and run, but I’ve got to get going. Nina, could I talk to you?”
She followed him to the front door.
“You promised to call me, and you didn’t,” Paul said. “So I came looking for you.”
Those downcast eyes again. “Oh. I thought it was the Potter case that brought you.”
“I don’t have anything to report about the Potter case right now. I’m not here on business. I am here for you. Are you coming back to Caesars with me or not?”
She wouldn’t look at him. “I’m not sure,” she said.
“Then let me decide for you.”
“All right.”
“Where’s your jacket?” He put it around her shoulders, squeezing them, letting her know that he would take care of her. “Go get in the Mustang.” She turned without a word and did as he’d asked. He went back to the kitchen and said, “We have to get going.”
“We, huh?” said Matt.
“See you guys later,” Andrea said.
“It’s great news. It really is. So long.”
Nina still seemed wound up when they arrived, and Paul didn’t want that, so he suggested they warm up with a drink. “Shake off the cold,” he said. She liked the idea. They stopped off in the downstairs bar.
Paul ordered his second beer of the night, and Nina had a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks, a good sign. He lifted his glass. “ ‘Shoulder the sky, my lass, and drink your ale.’ ”
She smiled and made a face as the bourbon went down. “Who said that?”
“A. E. Housman.”
“I would have said Dylan Thomas. Singing in his chains like the sea. A sea of ale.”
“Keep your voice down,” Paul said. “You want people to think you’re a pointy-headed intellectual?”
“You started it.”
“Hey. Isn’t that your guy over there?” He pointed in-conspicuously across the bar.
“You’re right,” Nina said. “It’s Atchison Potter, in town for his court appearance. All alone.”
“The worse for wear,” Paul said. “Too much travel or too much alcohol, maybe.”
“Maybe,” Nina said, studying the man. “He looks ill.”
“And you’re thinking that might be helpful in court somehow.”
“Can’t help myself. He may not even make it to court.”
Potter didn’t notice them. He drew a fiver out of his wallet, laid it on the counter, and got up wearily.
“Almost makes me feel sorry for him,” Nina said. “But not quite.”
They finished their drinks, talking little.
“I forgot how much I need this.”
“You mean, how much you need me.”
She smiled up at him. “We’ve been through so much together, haven’t we, Paul?”
“Let’s leave it at, you need me. And Nina, I need you.” They had the elevator to themselves. By the time they made it inside the door of Paul’s room, they had their outer layers off and within moments, the rest fell to the floor.
“Have I ever told you you’re breathtaking?” Paul said, steering her gently toward the bed.
Still her body seemed coiled tight. She was holding back. This, he could fix. This time, she would not hold back. This time, he would crack through that layer of control and find his way to the tender woman he knew lived deep inside her.
He took his time, kissing her lips until she moaned and her thighs until she was quivering. He ran his hands along the liquid curves of her body, feeling her ripening under his fingers.
“Just wait there,” he said, letting his hand run down her shoulder to her hand. He let go and lit a candle in red glass he had placed next to the bed.
“You knew I would tag along,” she said, her eyes still closed.
“I hoped. I never know with you.” And his hand was back on her leg, traveling up, reaching for her. “I do love you, Nina.” He loved the sound of her name on his lips. “Nina,” he said. “My Nina.”
She had turned onto her side, and her back was to him. He massaged her back softly. He stroked her hair and lay down behind her, spoon-style, inhaling the perfume of her hair.
Then, “Nina?”
She was shaking.
“Are you cold? Here, let me pull up the covers.” As he did that, gently pushing her onto her back and over farther on the bed, he saw her face. “Hey,” he said. “What’s this?” He sat up, holding her face in his hands. “Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know!” Anger leaked into her sobs. “I’m sorry!”
“Is this about Andrea? Babies?”
She cried hard. “No!”
“What, then? Help me,” he said.
“It—it feels like good-bye.”
“To Collier? Or me?”
He pulled her head onto his shoulder. She had never shared these feelings with him. She must know it would be painful for him to hear.
“I had it. Just for an instant. R-real love. He was such a good man.”
“And I’m not. I’m not a good man. That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
“You’d d-do anything,” she said. This pierced Paul’s heart like a hot needle.
“Don’t idealize him,” Paul said. “Don’t make him the measure of all other men. He wouldn’t want you to turn him into a plaster saint.”
“It’s not about him!”
“It shouldn’t be. It should be about us. Listen, maybe you’re with me for the wrong reasons tonight.” He was stroking her back, trying to relax her. “That doesn’t matter. Let me show you—I’ll make everything right.”
“It’ll never be right again.”
“That’s not true,” Paul said. He took her in his arms and tasted the salt on her cheeks. “You’re coming back. You’re recovering. I can tell.”
“I died with him,” she sobbed.
“No. No, honey. Part of you, maybe, but the rest of you wants to be happy again. Let me make you happy.”
“I’m s-sorry.”
“There, there.” He patted her as if he could soothe her with the gentle motion of his fingers and join the
fragments of her shattered emotions together. “Settle down.”
She couldn’t settle down, and gradually Paul realized that she was still stuck in a vision that didn’t include him. With her good man.
Bitterly, he thought, I’ll never live up to it. I’ll never earn her love. She came to me out of gratitude, not because she really wanted me.
He covered her up and went over to sit in the chair by the window. It seemed to him that he had never felt so low. He was still sitting there, sound asleep, when Nina got up softly, blew her nose in the bathroom, got dressed, and left.
The next morning, she drove Bob to the meeting place of an Audubon Society hike, and arrived at her office ready to plow through whatever was in her way. She was angry, at herself, maybe. She felt guilty about Paul, frightened about the emotional explosion. But law practice does not accommodate personal emotion. She put the feelings aside because she had to.
“Someone to see you,” Sandy greeted her. “He’s waiting in the conference room.” Sandy examined her puffy eyes but said nothing. The door to the conference room was closed.
“Who is it?”
“Thomas Munzinger, Global Gaming.”
“Really.”
“I got him coffee.”
“Thanks. Did he say what he wanted?”
“Just marched in and said he needed to see you.”
“Nice little office,” said Munzinger.
Nina hadn’t seen him since jackpot night at the casino. His look today confirmed her earlier guess that he was an outdoorsman. He wore a plaid shirt and old blue jeans over dusty leather boots, and looked younger and less impressive than she remembered.
Even so, she noted in the primitive female part of her mind that Thomas Munzinger was an attractive man. He had lowering eyebrows and an intent way of looking at her that would stir up a woman.
“Don’t mind my clothes,” he said, noticing her attention, “but I came right over here this morning as soon as I could. I have a few acres in the foothills on the Nevada side, and had some things to take care of this morning. Haven’t had time to change.”
She took one of the chairs. The blinds on the window facing the boulevard were still down against the stark morning sun and the room seemed shadowy. “What can I do for you, Mr. Munzinger?”
“Well, I’d like to talk to you. And I’m going to need to talk to Mrs. Leung. I’d like to get her address from you today.”
Nina folded her hands. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Global Gaming is the largest manufacturer of gaming devices in the world, Mrs. Reilly. Our reputation has always been of the highest. We’re happy to pay out jackpots when they legitimately occur—it’s great P.R. But there’s also a constant struggle to prevent fraud.”
“Fraud,” Nina said carefully.
“You ever heard of Dennis Nikrasch?”
“I don’t think so.” Was this someone Kenny had mentioned?
“Las Vegas man. Went down in 1986 for cheating the slots, and was accused again in 1998. Ten million dollars in the first case, and six in the next one. I helped figure things out in that case. It’s a gift, like being able to heal a horse by whispering to it.”
“Can you do that?”
“No. Movie stars do that. I confine my talent to riding a fast horse and keeping the wins clean.” He laughed, but the eyes still smoldered with something held back.
“How in the world did someone manage to steal that much from slot machines before anyone noticed?”
“Oh, he was smart. I consider myself smarter, of course. But the way it worked was, he tampered with the machines, set ’em up to hit, then got several confederates, friends and family, to collect the wins. Took a while for us and the Gaming Control Board to catch on.”
“How did he tamper with the machines?”
“He wasn’t the only one involved. There were several people doing these things. They used keys, wires, magnets, even some computer rig to jog bogus jackpots. Ever heard of a monkey’s paw?”
“What’s that?”
“People put a tiny flashlight on the tip of a piece of wire about eight inches long. When you slip it up the chute, it’s supposed to confuse the machine’s sensor. That prevents the machine from counting the coins on a win. Can increase jackpots by a factor of ten. That was just one of the things they tried.”
Nina decided to get right to it. “I understand it’s in your company’s interest to ensure that Jessie Potter’s jackpot is legitimate. I mean, nobody wants to pay on a bad win, right?”
“Including Prize’s. You know Steve Rossmoor?”
She knew Steve Rossmoor pretty darned well. He was the CEO at Prize’s. His current wife had been her first murder client. “Yes.”
“Guy’s got one big fault.”
“What’s that, Mr. Munzinger?”
“He listens to me. And I told him, there’s something wrong. I called a meeting. You know the group. Andy Doig, Gary Gray, John Jovanic from Prize’s. Ully Miller from the Gaming Control Board. Yesterday. We agreed that I ought to talk to your client, unofficially.”
Nina said, still watching her words, “What makes you think there’s something wrong with the jackpot? Have you found some evidence of tampering?”
“No. The chip checks out. That particular Greed Machine has been taken out of service while we think about things, though.”
“So?”
“There was a man on the stool just before your client sat down. Made a stink when he got back and saw she had won. One of Prize’s security people talked to him while they were in the process of kicking him off the casino floor right after the win. Got the name. Charlie Kemp. Kemp claimed the jackpot belonged to him.”
“Anybody would. It was bad luck.”
“Have you talked to Kemp?”
“Uh, well, yes, I did have a brief conversation with him a few days ago. He said essentially the same thing to me.”
“He told the Prize’s guard that it was all set up for him. And I quote.”
Nina stopped breathing. “What? Are you sure?”
“That’s how the guard remembers it. And now he’s dead.”
Nina said, “But my information is that Kemp was a hard liver. He left a trail of broken promises wherever he went. He was a transient, a boozer, a user, and a gambler. He had just been fired from a job in LA for smoking marijuana on the job. Obviously, he had enemies. Why blame the machine?”
“The time factor. It suggests a scenario to me I have surely seen before. A killing by a confederate. I’ll be honest with you. Ully and John think Kemp was just blowing hot air. But I don’t agree. Don’t know why. Just got the old gut to go by.” He patted his lean stomach.
“Mr. Munzinger, I promise you, if you try to obstruct my client’s legitimate win, we will give you the fight of your life.” She stood up and opened the door. He stood up in response. “You said yourself there’s no evidence of tampering on that machine.”
“It would help if I could talk to your client. Satisfy myself that she didn’t know Kemp. All I want is her address. A few minutes of her time.”
“That’s not convenient. She’s going into a stressful court hearing in a few days, as you know. She’s resting.”
“You’re leaving me with a bad feeling,” Munzinger said. “We might even intervene in that court proceeding, hold that money up from both parties.”
“Not without the support of the Gaming Control Board and Prize’s,” Nina said. “You’d never go to court. And if you did, you’d lose, because you don’t have any evidence. So don’t try to bluff me.”
Munzinger looked down and gave the floor a rueful smile. “You won’t let me talk to her?”
“Sorry.”
“You’re making a mistake. I’ll have to draw my own conclusions.”
“Not so fast,” Donna said. “You know I don’t like going too fast.”
Red, who already felt like they were crawling, slowed the boat down to a slither. He moved in closer to the beach so that
he could get a better view of the sunbathers near Zephyr Cove at the state beach. The glitter of sun on miles of smooth yellow sand made his eyes hurt. He fumbled around for his sunglasses and put them on. “Did you bring food?”
“Sandwiches and cake. I picked them up at the Raley’s.”
“Nothing fresh?”
“The potato salad looked real good.”
“Probably a month old.” He looked at it with distaste.
“Why do you care?” she asked curiously. “You never eat anymore, Red. You’re getting so skinny.”
“It’s your cooking.”
She sighed. “Maybe it was a mistake, coming out here. I don’t think you’re enjoying yourself at all.”
“Aren’t you?”
“C’mon. Let’s have some cake. Maybe a full stomach will keep you from jumping out of your skin every time I say a word. Pull in over there.” She pointed to a deserted stretch of beach.
He flung the wheel to the right and pulled the boat up to the beach as close as he could without scraping the bottom off, turned off the motor, and threw down the anchor. Donna held the food bags high as she waded into shore. He brought the cooler. Whiskey to soften the edges. Every knob of bone on his body hurt. Possibly he’d been overdoing the pills. He vowed to slow down just as soon as all this was over. As soon as he had the jackpot in hand, as soon as he had removed—another obstruction.
The Leungs had disappeared. He had only seen them in court, surrounded by people. He couldn’t find them in the Indian colony or anywhere else. They were obviously hiding, since Kemp had scared them. And if he couldn’t find them, he couldn’t get the husband.
The kidnapping idea was dead. Jessie was tied up in court for a couple of weeks and couldn’t pay him off anyway. Good thing Kemp had blown it. He’d learned from Potter’s lawyer that Leung hardly knew the girl. The marriage was a sham. He didn’t care what that scam might be. He would have plenty of time to brace young Jessie later, after the court decision.
The problem of Kenny Leung remained. Red had to go to the hearings and he was scared shitless that the husband would come up to him and point a finger in his face and say, You were there, you said something to Kemp. That would be the end of the dream. He really needed to get rid of him, and he would first chance he had.
But now there was the other problem.
Writ of Execution Page 26