Death Perception

by Victoria Laurie

  ‘‘Trust me,’’ I said. ‘‘He is. He’s the best man I know, in fact. But it’s complicated.’’

  ‘‘What do you mean?’’

  ‘‘Despite appearances, Raymond Robillard isn’t one of the good guys.’’

  ‘‘Bob doesn’t trust him either,’’ Nora said. ‘‘He thinks Robillard may have some ulterior motive.’’

  I wiped my mouth and sat back in the chair. It felt good just to relax after such an intense night and day. ‘‘Oh, he’s full of ulterior motives. And one of those involvespinning some fabricated crime on Dutch, and probably on me too.’’

  ‘‘Why you?’’

  I gave her a sideways glance. ‘‘Because, like an idiot, I’ve now revealed that I know too much.’’

  ‘‘About what?’’

  ‘‘About a murder that took place almost thirty years ago.’’

  ‘‘Robillard was involved in a murder?’’

  I didn’t answer her. This was getting sticky and the last thing I wanted was for Nora to be caught in the middle. ‘‘It’s better if you don’t know all the details,’’ I said. ‘‘In fact, coming here probably wasn’t a good idea.’’

  Nora scowled. ‘‘Don’t be ridiculous,’’ she said. ‘‘You’ve been through hell and it sounds like you’re in some serious trouble. Where else would you go all alone out here in Sin City?’’

  I felt my shoulders relax. ‘‘You are a good egg, Nora, you know that?’’

  ‘‘So Bob keeps telling me.’’

  ‘‘Speaking about things Bob might tell you, has he mentioned this woman they found at the accident with Dutch’s car?’’

  ‘‘Jane Doe?’’ Nora said. ‘‘No, Bob hasn’t told me much.’’

  Something about the way she said that made my radar ‘‘ting’’ like she was holding back something. ‘‘Dish,’’ I said, making a waving motion with my hand.

  Nora’s eyes sparkled. ‘‘Before Nickie was born, I used to work the swing shift at the hospital—I was a nurse there for sixteen years, and that’s how I met Bob, in fact.’’

  ‘‘You’re a nurse?’’

  ‘‘Comes in handy when you’ve got four kids, let me tell you.’’

  ‘‘Can you help me with this?’’ I asked, pulling up one sleeve to reveal the small IV needle still stuck in my arm.

  ‘‘Oh, my,’’ Nora said, and she got up to grab some paper towels and some antiseptic from under the sink. ‘‘You shouldn’t be walking around with that.’’ Coming back around, she placed one of the paper towels over the little plastic tube sticking out of my arm and gave a gentle but firm tug.

  ‘‘Ouch,’’ I said, but in a moment the pain was gone. ‘‘Thanks, that’s better.’’

  Nora dabbed some antiseptic on the area and covered it with a Band-Aid before taking her seat again. ‘‘Now, as I was saying about the hospital, I still have coffee twice a week with my best friend, Trina, who took my job as shift supervisor when I left. I was at the hospital this morning, in fact. I think I just missed you when you made your getaway.’’

  ‘‘I’m totally going to settle my bill!’’ I said, realizing she must think I was horrid for dashing out before I could offer up my insurance card.

  ‘‘Give me your insurance information after you eat and I’ll call it in for you,’’ she said kindly.

  ‘‘No sweat,’’ I said, still feeling guilty. ‘‘But will Trina let on that you know where I am?’’

  ‘‘Trina and I go way back. She’ll keep her mouth shut if I ask her to.’’

  ‘‘Terrific. I’d hate to have anyone trace me back to you.’’

  Nora laughed. ‘‘Oh, please, I can handle myself. Besides, between the two of us, Bob’s always the good guy. Any trouble I get in is just to help keep us balanced. So, as I was saying, this morning when I had my coffee with Trina, the accident was all she could talk about and she gave me the lowdown on our Jane Doe.’’

  ‘‘Which is... ?’’ I said, anxious to coax it out of her.

  ‘‘Jane has no idea who she is or how she got into that car crash. She’s got a whopper of a concussion, and her left radius is broken, but other than that, she’s fine. The FBI has been questioning her all day, and she finally told them to go stuff it. Trina said they’ve posted an FBI agent outside her door and they’re basically holding her at the hospital until her memory improves enough to identify herself.’’

  ‘‘Do you believe she doesn’t remember?’’

  Nora picked at the place mat on the countertop. ‘‘I know from all my experience that it’s far more common than people think.’’

  ‘‘How soon before she gets her memory back?’’

  ‘‘Hard to say. Could be tomorrow or it could be never. Each reaction to head trauma is different.’’

  ‘‘She’s the key to finding Dutch,’’ I said. ‘‘I can feel it.’’

  ‘‘If I hear anything more, I’ll let you know,’’ she said, then switched topics. ‘‘Have you thought about what you’re going to do from here?’’

  ‘‘My main priority is finding out what happened to Dutch,’’ I said. ‘‘I’m hoping there’s a way to retrace his steps somehow and locate him before anyone else does. If the FBI is convinced that he’s gone bad, there won’t be a lot of opportunity once they get their hands on him to clear his name. That means I’ve got to get to him first, and if the FBI has me under surveillance, I’m thinking that might hamper things a bit.’’

  ‘‘Looks like you’ve managed to duck away from their radar so far,’’ she said with a laugh. ‘‘Bob told me he got a furious call from Robillard a few hours ago. Extra agents have even been called in!’’

  I felt the blood leave my face. ‘‘Extra agents?’’ I asked meekly.

  ‘‘Oh, Abby, don’t worry about it. They would never think to check here. And your secret is safe with me. I won’t even tell Bob, because that man cannot keep his mouth shut.’’

  ‘‘When does he come home?’’ I asked, glancing nervously at the clock. ‘‘I have a friend coming in to help me look for Dutch, but her plane doesn’t get in till midnight.’’

  ‘‘Then you’re fine to stay here until then. It’s Bob’s poker night and since he’s been all but cut out of the Delgado case now that the FBI’s taken over, he’ll be with his buddies until after midnight.’’

  ‘‘Awesome,’’ I said, looking down at my plate, which barely had a scrap of food left. ‘‘Wow, I must have been hungry,’’ I said.

  Nora took my dish and got up. ‘‘The greatest compliment you can give a chef is to ask for seconds,’’ she said. I was starting to like this woman more and more.

  * * *

  Nora dropped me at the fountains right outside the Bellagio Hotel at eleven thirty. I was back in my regular duds, but she’d lent me one of Michael’s baseball caps, which I’d pulled down low to hide my face as much as possible.

  I watched the fountain show with a thick crowd of people and tapped my foot nervously, keeping beat to the music. Around twelve thirty I began scanning the crowds, anxious for Candice to show up.

  Nora had put me to bed in a basement guest room out of sight from the kids, so I’d managed to sleep most of the afternoon, and now I was keyed up and wide-awake. I’d had another horrible dream about Dutch and the cemetery, and I could feel that I was running out of time. Deep down, in spite of the pictures my crew kept showing me, I just felt that he was still alive. Maybe it was my own wishful thinking in spite of the facts that were presenting themselves to me, but something deep within my radar said that Dutch was still breathing, but that he was in some serious trouble.

  I found a bench to sit on and wrapped my jacket around me tightly. It was so odd that a place so hot in the middle of the day could turn so chilly when the sun set. I watched as the fountains shot water high in the air during the carefully orchestrated show and just as the finale kicked in, I felt someone tap my shoulder. It was so unexpected that I think I jumped a foot and stood up off the bench. Turning on my tappe
r, I almost fell over when my sister, Cat, waved her hand and shot me a big cheesy grin. ‘‘Hey there, cap girl!’’ she said brightly.

  ‘‘What the... ? How the... ?’’ I sputtered. ‘‘Cat! What are you doing here!’’ I realized too late that I’d been a little loud, and people near us were openly staring.

  Cat waved at them as sweetly as she’d waved at me, and put a finger to her lips. ‘‘Shhhh!’’ she said. ‘‘Do you really want to call so much attention right now, Abby?’’

  I lowered my voice to a hissy whisper. ‘‘What are you doing here?!’’ I demanded.

  ‘‘You didn’t think I would send anyone else to deliver twenty thousand dollars in cash to you, did you?’’

  ‘‘Ohmigod! I am living a freaking nightmare!’’ I hissed again. ‘‘You cannot be here, Catherine! You have got to get right back on that plane and head home!’’

  ‘‘No way,’’ she said stubbornly. ‘‘If you’re in trouble, you’ll need me.’’

  I sputtered and glared at her and paced back and forth a few times. This was all I needed. My completely in-the-way sister showing up at the absolute worst time imaginable. ‘‘Cat,’’ I said firmly. ‘‘I mean it. I’m in some deep shit here. I’ve got the Feds after me, and they are not playing around. I don’t know what’s happened to Dutch, but I have a feeling it isn’t good, and the last thing I need is to be worried about keeping you safe.’’

  ‘‘Oh, please,’’ Cat said with a flip of her hand. ‘‘When did you get to be such a drama queen?’’

  I growled at her, literally growled at my sister, and I probably would have grabbed her by the shoulders and shaken her silly if someone hadn’t placed a firm hand on my own shoulder. ‘‘Give it up,’’ Candice said in my ear. ‘‘I’ve already tried every argument under the sun with her. She refuses to hand over the cash if we don’t let her stay.’’

  I whipped around and faced Candice. ‘‘Thank God you’re here!’’ I said, throwing my arms around her neck.

  ‘‘Well, that’s nice,’’ Cat snapped. ‘‘I’m your own sister and you go giving Candice a hug?’’

  I let go of Candice and rounded on Cat. ‘‘I asked Candice to come,’’ I said. ‘‘I asked you for money.’’

  ‘‘Yes,’’ said my sister, beginning to work herself into a big ol’ huff. ‘‘And not just a little bit of money, but a lot of cash, Abby.’’

  ‘‘I said I’d pay you back,’’ I argued weakly. ‘‘Cat, come on! Do you really want the kind of trouble that I could be in? Think of your family!’’

  ‘‘Abby,’’ she said reasonably, ‘‘you are my family. Besides, I’ve got the best lawyers in the world on retainer. It’s about time they proved their worth.’’

  I stared at her for several seconds, realizing that if the tables were turned, I’d want to be there for my sister, and by ‘‘be there’’ I meant physically. ‘‘Come here,’’ I said, and pulled her into a fierce hug. ‘‘You drive me crazy,’’ I muttered into her hair.

  ‘‘Likewise,’’ she said back.

  Candice cleared her throat. ‘‘I hate to break up this Hallmark moment, but, ladies, we need to boogie.’’

  ‘‘Right,’’ I said, letting go of my sister. ‘‘Where are we headed?’’

  ‘‘Somewhere far away from the Strip,’’ Candice said. ‘‘Come on, my car’s parked about three blocks from here.’’

  We hoofed it over to Candice’s rental and piled in. I rode shotgun and Cat nabbed the back. ‘‘I’m just going to take a little catnap,’’ she said, tongue in cheek. ‘‘Wake me when we get to the hotel.’’

  Candice pulled out and we made our way along the heavy evening traffic of the Strip. As we inched forward, I began to notice a whole lotta Elvises, Chers, and Celine Dions. ‘‘What gives?’’ I asked, spotting a Siegfried and Roy combo, each holding a stuffed tiger.

  ‘‘It’s Halloween,’’ Candice said. ‘‘People get dressed up as their favorite Vegas celebrity every year.’’

  ‘‘It’s only the twenty-first,’’ I said, doing the math on the date in my head. ‘‘Halloween’s not until late next week.’’

  ‘‘People start dressing up the moment October breaks,’’ Candice said. ‘‘Folks around here love to party and dress up. It’s what makes Vegas, Vegas.’’

  ‘‘You come here a lot or you just heard about it on the Net?’’

  ‘‘I used to live here,’’ she admitted, hiding a grin.

  ‘‘No way!’’

  ‘‘For sure,’’ she said. ‘‘I lived here as a little kid until I was about twelve, then I came back here from Michigan and went to school at the University of Nevada.’’

  ‘‘You were a student out here in Vegas?’’ I said.

  ‘‘Must have been hard to study with all this distraction.’’

  ‘‘I was too busy working as a showgirl to get distracted,’’ she said with a hint of pride.

  ‘‘You were a showgirl too?’’

  ‘‘Yep, for five whole months until the stress of exams got to me and I got fired for being five pounds overweight. That’s when I went to work for a local PI, and that is the story of how I got into this biz.’’

  ‘‘Wow!’’ I said, looking at my partner in a whole new light. ‘‘You have led quite the life, you know that?’’

  ‘‘And all that was before I joined the marines,’’ she said, giving me a wink.

  ‘‘They make movies about people like you,’’ I said seriously.

  She laughed. ‘‘Trust me, it hasn’t been all glamour.’’

  ‘‘So you really do know your way around here,’’ I said.

  ‘‘Yep,’’ she replied, but her look was guarded.

  We finally made it off the Strip and Candice took I- 15 heading toward Utah. ‘‘There’s a motel out here nicely tucked away from the city. Used to be a good place to scout cheating husbands back in the day, and I’d expect not much has changed and it’s still a good place to scout stuff like that.’’

  ‘‘Oh, you don’t have to venture off the Strip to find cheating husbands,’’ I said, remembering Red and Ivory. ‘‘Trust me on that one.’’

  Candice glanced at me. ‘‘Sounds like there’s a story there,’’ she said.

  ‘‘And a picture show,’’ I said. ‘‘Remind me to tell you about it later.’’

  ‘‘Will do. Now that we can actually talk, fill me in on all the details. What’s going on that has you running from the Feds?’’

  For the rest of our journey out to the motel I talked about everything that had happened from the time Dutch’s mom had called.

  ‘‘And here I thought you and Dutch had run off to Vegas to get married,’’ Candice said, trying to make light when she heard my voice cracking as I talked about how Dutch was missing.

  ‘‘That would be quite the shocker,’’ I said.

  ‘‘Not really,’’ Candice said. ‘‘I totally see you two walking the aisle.’’

  ‘‘I’d settle for bringing him home,’’ I said honestly.

  ‘‘What does your crew have to say about all this?’’

  I shifted in my seat and took my time answering. ‘‘They’ve been relatively quiet.’’ I know I should have told her what I’d been shown, but a part of me couldn’t bear to speak about the scenes of Dutch’s funeral. I was afraid that saying it out loud might make it come true.

  ‘‘Really?’’ she asked. She could sense that I was holding back.

  Up ahead I could see a pink neon sign glowing in the darkness of the desert that read MOTEL. ‘‘Looks like they’ve got a vacancy,’’ I said, pointing to the sign.

  ‘‘They’ve always got a vacancy, Abs,’’ she said.

  We parked and I woke Cat up from her curled-up position in the backseat. ‘‘Huh?’’ she said when I shook her arm.

  ‘‘We’re here.’’

  ‘‘Oh, right,’’ she said, and got out of the car.

  The motel was laid out in a big U, with the office at the front, sporting the v
acancy sign. The place was low maintenance and obviously in poor repair. ‘‘Gah!’’ Cat said. ‘‘Where are we?’’

  ‘‘Someplace safe,’’ Candice reassured her. ‘‘And from what I remember, they may not take care of the outside, but they do clean the rooms thoroughly.’’

  Cat scowled. ‘‘Why don’t I just pay for a decent hotel?’’ she said. ‘‘There’s got to be something better than this!’’

  ‘‘Our objective isn’t comfort, Catherine,’’ Candice said sternly. ‘‘It’s keeping your sister safe while we figure all this out. Remember?’’

  Something about that exchange made me think Candice had laid down some ground rules with Cat before meeting me at the water fountains. ‘‘Okay,’’ Cat said reluctantly. ‘‘But this is way below my standards, Candice.’’

  ‘‘Noted. Now let’s go inside and book a room.’’ We headed inside and met a sleepy-eyed man with a high forehead, mussy brown hair, and no chin to speak of. ‘‘Need a room?’’ he asked.

  ‘‘We do,’’ Candice said.

  ‘‘Three?’’ he asked hopefully.

  Candice smiled. ‘‘One with double beds and a rollaway cot, if you please.’’

  ‘‘Fine,’’ he said, and shoved a form at Candice. I pulled out some money and peeled off a few twenties.

  ‘‘I thought you didn’t have any money,’’ Cat said to me.

  ‘‘I managed to get some,’’ I whispered to her. She gave me a confused look and I said, ‘‘I’ll explain later.’’

  ‘‘That’ll be two hundred a night,’’ the clerk said.

  ‘‘Excuse me?’’ I said, my eyes widening. He had to be joking, two hundred a night for this dump?

  ‘‘I’m assuming you don’t want me to remember you three if anyone comes looking?’’ he said. ‘‘My memory comes and goes, you know. Sometimes it’s really clear and sometimes it’s a little foggy.’’

  I began to sputter at him, but Candice gave me a warning look and said, ‘‘That’s fine. We’re happy to pay.’’

  I shrugged my shoulders and handed him enough money for two nights. He pocketed it and gave us a worn, orange room key. We trooped out of the office, got our bags from the car, and walked over to our room, which was just down from the office. ‘‘I am beat,’’ Cat complained. ‘‘Are we going to flip for the beds?’’