Death Perception

by Victoria Laurie

  ‘‘Who you callin’ dogs?’’ said the other man as he suddenly stopped laughing.

  ‘‘Oh, I’m sorry,’’ Cat said. ‘‘I’ve heard Randy from American Idol say that a lot. Isn’t that what you all call each other? You know, like that rapper man, what’s his name... Snoopy Dog?’’

  ‘‘Cat!’’ Candice and I said together.

  Behind us we heard the roar of an engine and the smell of exhaust filled our nostrils. The bus had arrived. Cat got up, still smiling at the two young men, who were shaking their heads and laughing at her.

  I reached over and pulled her tight to me, offering the two men an apology. ‘‘I’m so sorry,’’ I said. ‘‘She left her medication at home.’’

  ‘‘No thing, lady,’’ the young man said, still laughing with his buddy at my socially challenged sister.

  ‘‘What did I say?’’ Cat said as we got on the bus.

  I hadn’t let go of her arm since we allowed the two men on the bus ahead of us. ‘‘You need to stop watching MTV,’’ I said to her as we took our seats.

  ‘‘I was just trying to make some conversation, sheesh.’’

  We arrived at the costume-rental place—which like everything else here in Vegas seemed to be open twenty-four hours—and hurried to change into our street clothes.

  Candice and I teased Cat in the dressing room between us while we changed. ‘‘Yo, dawg,’’ I called to Candice.

  ‘‘Word,’’ Candice replied.

  ‘‘Ha-ha,’’ Cat said mirthlessly. ‘‘Very funny, you two. Here I am trying to blend in, which is more than I can say for the two of you!’’

  Candice and I continued to giggle and we stepped out of the curtained area around the same time. ‘‘Oh, come on, Cat,’’ I coaxed to her curtain. ‘‘We’re just playin’.’’ Candice laughed again and squeezed my arm.

  Cat yanked back the curtain with one hand while holding her Prince costume in the other. She was back to looking like her old self except for the thin penciled-in mustache on her upper lip—which of course made Candice and me howl.

  Cat glared at us and opened her mouth as if to tell us both off when her eyes suddenly widened and the color drained from her face. I instantly realized that a cold chill was starting to creep up my spine, and behind me I could hear a man’s voice saying, ‘‘. . . from the FBI. We’re conducting a search looking for a person of interest named Abby Cooper. This is her photo. Can you tell me if you’ve seen her or perhaps rented out a costume to her recently?’’

  ‘‘Oh, shit!’’ I mouthed, and looked at Candice, who was glancing over her shoulder at what I assumed were two FBI agents.

  Candice tossed her costume into the dressing room and did the same with Cat’s and mine. ‘‘Back door now!’’ she hissed, and shoved us toward a door with a sign that said, FIRE EXIT ONLY! ALARM WILL SOUND IF DOOR IS OPENED!

  Candice ignored the sign and pushed the door open, when a god-awful racket sounded in the store as the fire alarm went off. ‘‘Run!’’ she yelled, and we bolted out the door and ran for all we were worth down the street.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘‘Hey, stop!’’ someone shouted over the noise of the alarm as the three of us dashed down the store’s back alley and rounded a corner as fast as we could.

  Candice was in the lead and I was close on her heels, and my speedy sister was pumping her tiny legs something fierce to keep up. We ran down the street and Candice turned left into another alleyway. I followed and heard Cat bringing up the rear. At the end of the alley Candice put on the brakes and turned to us. ‘‘We’ve got to split up!’’ she ordered. ‘‘Meet back at our room at the hotel. If you’re caught, call your attorney, keep quiet, and do not under any circumstances give away the location of our hotel room!’’

  Cat and I nodded and Candice bolted across the street. I grabbed Cat’s arm before she could run away and shoved two twenties into it. ‘‘Get back to the hotel safe and don’t talk to strangers!’’ I insisted. She gave me a quick nod and we both ran in opposite directions.

  I ran down the street and ducked into another alley. At the end of that street I came out onto a busy four-lane road where, to my relief, a bus had just pulled up to a stop on the opposite side of the road. I had to dart in and out of traffic but managed to make it across and hurried onto the bus, paying the fare and taking a seat quickly. Out of the tinted window I could see two winded-looking FBI agents staring hard at the bus I’d just hopped aboard, but there was a wall of cars zooming down the street that prevented them from crossing.

  As my heart pounded, the bus finally pulled away from the stop and I watched them looking at the bus until they faded from view. At the very next stop I got off the bus and ran down the street in the direction of a small casino off the Strip. Edging closer to it, I noticed a taxi pull up to the curb and let out a patron. ‘‘Yo!’’ I called to the taxi before the patron shut the door. ‘‘Hold that cab!’’

  The taxi let me off at the Wynn. I knew it was risky to be so close to where Dutch and I had been staying, but I had a sneaking suspicion that my image had been sent to every cab company in town, and if my cabbie remembered picking me up and decided to tip off the FBI, I wanted to make sure he told them I was a long way from the Luxor.

  The problem with my plan was that I was a long way from the Luxor, located at the opposite end of the Strip. It seemed to take forever to half jog, half walk all the way back there, especially since I was working my way at odd angles in case any black sedans with tinted windows were cruising the Strip in search of me. Thinking about the photo the FBI agents were passing around, I made a quick detour into the New York-New York Hotel and Casino and bought an ‘‘I ♥ NY’’ black sweatshirt and a Yankees ball cap, then made my way to the restroom, where I braided my hair and tucked it under the ball cap before continuing on my way back to the Luxor.

  When I was dog-tired and sore and so hungry I’d eat my own cooking, I pushed through the front doors and trotted to the elevators. The doors opened and I stepped in with another couple, who got off ahead of me. I leaned against the back of the car and closed my eyes, wondering if Cat and Candice had made it back before me.

  When I got to the room, I gave a soft knock before sliding my key card into the slot. I entered an empty hotel suite and my heart sank. The clock on the wall read two a.m. It had taken me over an hour to get back. Where could the other girls be?

  I paced the floor in front of the door for twenty minutes before hearing a soft click at the lock and the handle turned. Candice stepped inside and quickly shut the door behind her. ‘‘Thank God you’re here,’’ she said to me.

  I went to hug her, then stepped back, my nose scrunching up. ‘‘Jesus!’’ I exclaimed. ‘‘What is that smell?’’

  Candice scowled. ‘‘Dumpster,’’ she said. ‘‘I happened to round the corner just as you were making your getaway on the bus, and the Feds caught sight of me and gave chase. I ended up running down a dead end and had to dive into a Dumpster to avoid them.’’

  ‘‘Gah!’’ I said, putting my hand to my nose. ‘‘You smell worse than the K-car! Go take a shower, will you?’’

  ‘‘Gladly,’’ she said, and began heading in that direction. ‘‘Is Cat here?’’ she asked over her shoulder.

  ‘‘No,’’ I said, and started pacing again. ‘‘And I’m worried.’’

  Candice paused at the door to the bathroom. ‘‘Don’t worry until dawn. If she’s not back by then, we’ll go looking for her.’’

  ‘‘Thanks,’’ I said gratefully.

  Candice showered and wrapped herself in one of the terry-cloth robes provided with the room while she rinsed out her only change of clothes in the tub. ‘‘Here,’’ I said, handing her a fresh shirt. ‘‘It’s clean, and I’d give you my jeans, but your legs are too long. I doubt they’d fit.’’

  ‘‘This is great, thanks,’’ she said. ‘‘Any word from Cat?’’

  ‘‘No, and it’s nearly three!’’

  ‘‘A
bby,’’ she said calmly, ‘‘don’t worry until it’s light out, okay? For now, just keep it together. Cat’s come through in the past. I’m sure she’s just trying to work her way back here and it’s taking her a little longer.’’

  I went back out and paced in front of the door. By three thirty I was going out of my mind. ‘‘She should have been back by now,’’ I grumbled. Candice was on the sofa propped up with some pillows, working hard to keep her eyes open. ‘‘We’ll go look for her the moment my jeans aren’t soaking wet,’’ she said. ‘‘And we can be sure the Feds have given up the chase.’’

  Just then there was some noise outside our door and a knock. Candice sat bolt upright and we both stared uneasily at the door. ‘‘Who is it?’’ Candice said after a moment.

  ‘‘Spencer and Willis!’’ came a muffled reply. ‘‘We got somethin’ that belongs to y’all.’’

  Candice walked quickly to the door and peered into the peephole. ‘‘I don’t believe it!’’ she said, and stepped back to pull on the handle. As the door swung open, I could see why, because I didn’t believe it either. ‘‘Waz up?’’ said my sister, wearing a crooked ball cap and a thick gold chain as she dangled limply between the two men from the bus stop.

  ‘‘Yo, she’s had some a dat jungle juice,’’ said one of them.

  ‘‘What did you give her?’’ I demanded, taking my sister from them and working hard to hold her upright.

  ‘‘We didn’ give her nothin’. She ordered it herself, yo,’’ said the guy on the right. ‘‘Willis was drinkin’ his drink and the Catwoman here said she thought that looked good, so she be flaggin’ down the bartender before we could stop her, no?’’

  ‘‘What was in that drink?’’ Candice said, reaching out to help with Cat.

  ‘‘I dunno,’’ said Willis. ‘‘But dey call it da bomb for a reason-like, you know what I’m sayin’?’’

  ‘‘Da bomb!’’ Cat said, swinging her arm up like she was swigging a beer.

  ‘‘How did you all end up together exactly?’’ Candice asked.

  ‘‘Yo, we was in this bar and suddenly the Catwoman here, formerly known as Baby Prince, bust in and was all like, ‘You gotta help me hide!’ and so Spencer and me, we helped her lay low till things outside chilled out.’’

  ‘‘My sister hid out in a bar with you guys?’’ I said.

  ‘‘Yeah, but it was cool. Yo, she said she was head of some big marketing firm and that she could help us launch our own label, but that ain’t for real, right?’’

  ‘‘I’m Catherine Master-Coopers,’’ Cat slurred. ‘‘Head of a multimillion-dollar marketing empire. You two stick with me, and I’ll make you richer than Pee-diddley!’’

  ‘‘Yo,’’ said Spencer. ‘‘Can you give her our cards so when she ain’t so drunk, she can call us, like, and we can talk and stuff?’’

  ‘‘Er... ,’’ I said, taking the card and noticing that Spencer and Willis really did design clothing. ‘‘Sure, I’ll give it to her.’’

  ‘‘Thanks again for bringing her back here,’’ Candice said while I took off the ball cap and the thick gold chain and handed them back to Willis.

  ‘‘Ain’t no thing,’’ he replied, and then the boys took their leave and we moved Cat into the bedroom and laid her on the bed. ‘‘They were such nice young men,’’ slurred Cat.

  ‘‘Okay, Cat,’’ I said, removing her shoes and pulling the comforter up around her. ‘‘Nighty-night.’’

  ‘‘Ga’night,’’ she said, and in a moment her eyes were closed and she was breathing deeply.

  ‘‘Well, Abby,’’ Candice said as she stared at my sister, ‘‘I can tell you one thing.’’

  ‘‘What’s that?’’

  ‘‘If we make it out of this, Cat’s little adventure on the wild side will be one of those ‘What happens here, stays here’ scenarios.’’

  ‘‘Tommy would so flip,’’ I said, referring to her husband with a giggle.

  ‘‘That’s why you hold it over her head and only threaten to tell on her when you need her to stop doing something annoying.’’

  ‘‘So I should whip that one out all the time?’’ I said with a laugh.

  ‘‘Pretty much,’’ Candice agreed. ‘‘Okay, let’s hit the hay. We can sleep until noon, collect our prize money and the cars, and make it to Jabba’s to pick up our intel.’’

  * * *

  As it turned out, we slept until around eleven a.m. and I got the first good night’s sleep in what seemed like a very long time. ‘‘Take a shower,’’ Candice said when I wandered into the sitting room.

  ‘‘Cat’s still asleep,’’ I said.

  ‘‘I know. We won’t wake her until we have to. I’ve got a feeling that drink she had last night is going to leave a few shock waves in the way of a hangover.’’

  I took a ridiculously long shower and came out feeling pretty good. Candice had ordered us a huge breakfast of eggs, toast, waffles, pancakes, fruit plates, etc., etc. ‘‘Jeez, Candice,’’ I said when I saw the banquet. ‘‘Did you order the whole menu?’’

  Candice beamed from her place at the table, where she was making pretty good headway into a Spanish omelet. ‘‘I did,’’ she said. ‘‘Hey, it’s on the house. We might as well eat up while it’s free.’’

  ‘‘Owwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww... ,’’ came a long low moan from my sister, who was just now shuffling out of the bedroom, holding her head with both hands.

  ‘‘Hey, Catwoman,’’ I said cheerfully. ‘‘You not feelin’ it this mornin’?’’

  Cat looked at me through slitted eyes. ‘‘Oh, I’m feeling it,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Eat something,’’ Candice offered. ‘‘It’ll make you feel better.’’

  Cat wandered over to the table and plopped down in a chair. ‘‘I feel awful,’’ she said.

  ‘‘Serves you right,’’ I scolded. ‘‘You had us worried sick last night.’’

  ‘‘How did I get back here?’’ she asked as she took a sip of the coffee Candice had poured for her.

  ‘‘Your homies brought you back,’’ I said, winking at Candice.

  ‘‘Oh, yeah,’’ she said. ‘‘Willis and Spencer. They were a riot! At least I think they were a riot. I couldn’t understand a lot of what they were saying. And after a few sips of something called a bomb, I don’t think I remember much else.’’

  ‘‘You’re just lucky they took care of you,’’ I said. ‘‘You could have ended up in real trouble, Cat.’’

  ‘‘Oh, please,’’ Cat said, waving her hand dismissively. ‘‘I was fine.’’

  ‘‘You ever pull a stunt like that again, and I will post the pictures I took on the Internet,’’ I said.

  Cat froze and only her eyes darted up to meet mine. ‘‘What pictures?’’

  ‘‘The ones I took when Willis and Spencer dropped you off. I don’t think Tommy would like to hear about all the fun you had here in Vegas.’’

  Candice hid a smile and raised the newspaper she was reading. ‘‘You took pictures?’’ Cat said hoarsely.

  I hadn’t, but Cat didn’t know that. ‘‘Yep,’’ I said. ‘‘And unless you follow Candice’s directions to the letter, I’m sending them to Tommy.’’

  Cat scowled at me. ‘‘Oh, please, how bad could they be?’’

  ‘‘Bad,’’ Candice said from behind the paper. ‘‘Really bad.’’

  Cat grew even paler. ‘‘I think I need a shower,’’ she said after a moment, and she shuffled off to the bathroom.

  ‘‘Okay,’’ Candice said as I sat down to some food, ‘‘I’m off to sign for our prizes. Then we’ll need to boogie over to Jabba’s.’’

  * * *

  ‘‘I’ll make sure Cat’s ready,’’ I said.

  I ate far more than I should have before Cat appeared with wet hair dressed in a terry-cloth robe. ‘‘I’m getting too old to drink,’’ she said as she came over to the table and picked at some pancakes. ‘‘And I don’t have any change of clothes or makeup with me,�
�’ she complained.

  ‘‘After we pick up the info from Jabba, we can stop at the mall and get us all some new digs.’’

  Eyeing me in my last pair of fresh clothes with a look of envy, she said, ‘‘Do you happen to have any facial cream at least?’’

  I dug into my backpack and began pulling out items— dirty clothes, notebook, appointment book, picture frame, cell phone, wrapper from some crackers I’d had on the plane. ‘‘Who’s this?’’ Cat asked, and I looked up to see that she was holding the picture frame I’d gotten from Delgado’s condo.

  ‘‘The guy who was kidnapped,’’ I said, coming up with the face cream.

  ‘‘He’s handsome, don’t you think?’’ Cat said, swiveling the picture around to let me see.

  And that’s when the world seemed to stop and I felt an icy coldness run through my veins. As I stared at Delgado’s photo, something terrible began happening. His three-dimensional image was changing before my very eyes and quickly becoming flat and plasticlike. ‘‘Oh, no!’’ I said breathlessly as I grabbed the frame. ‘‘No, no, no, no, no!’’

  ‘‘What is it?’’ Cat asked, her voice filled with alarm. ‘‘What’s happening?’’

  Goose bumps lined my arms as I gripped the picture. Delgado’s fingers, hands, and torso had all transformed, his neck and chin were next, and then the flatness of his appearance made it to his eyes, and in my head I heard something like a pop!

  ‘‘Abby!’’ Cat said. ‘‘Please, tell me what’s happened!’’

  I looked up at her, haunted by what I’d just seen. ‘‘Someone just killed Ricardo Delgado!’’

  We filled Candice in when she arrived with a fistful of money and two sets of car keys. ‘‘Are you sure?’’ she asked me, her eyes full of concern.

  I closed my own eyes, feeling the emotion of watching someone spiritually fade away. ‘‘Yes,’’ I whispered. ‘‘He’s gone.’’

  ‘‘What about Chase?’’ Cat asked. ‘‘Is there any way for you to tune in and see what’s happened to him?’’

  I remembered the other photo in the backpack, the one that Laney had given me off her fridge. Frantically I dug around in my backpack and when my fingers hit on it, I didn’t pull it out right away. I wasn’t sure how I would react if Chase’s image was also flat in appearance. All my hope for Dutch had been hanging on a theory that he’d discovered who’d kidnapped Delgado, and was also being held captive. If Chase was dead, that would likely mean Dutch was too. ‘‘It’s okay,’’ Candice said, obviously reading my body language. ‘‘You can look at it, Abs. You can do it.’’