Diva Las Vegas (23 page)

“Thank you, Toni.”

Pookie disengaged her feet from behind her ears and assumed a seated position on the floor. Then she suddenly jumped to both feet and stood directly in front of us. She was wearing very snug yoga tights and a cropped top. She was hot. A mane of auburn hair framed a heart-shaped face and wide green eyes. Her body was voluptuous, but at the same time extremely toned. She reminded me of Tina Louise—you know, Ginger from Gilligan’s Island. Pooks was a good forty years old and she was gorgeous, exuding an innate sexuality. Toni’s job description was becoming a little clearer by the minute.

“Will you bring us some drinks, please?”

“What would you like?” he asked.

“Surprise us.”

“You got it,” he said, and left.

“Mrs. Reynolds, my name is Detective—”

“I’m Ms. Wisniewski now. Janet Wisniewski, but I like to be called Pookie.” She smiled conspiratorially. “It pisses off Gene.” She looked at me and then suddenly said, “Omigod. You’re Alexis Peterson, from
The Yearning Tide
!”

“
The Bare and the Brazen
now,” Davis corrected.

“That’s right!” she said, pointing at Davis. “Holy cow! It is you, isn’t it?”

“It’s me,” I said.

“Wow,” she said again. Then, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Mrs.—Pookie.”

“Detective Jakes, Detective Davis. What can I do for all of you?”

“Actually,” Jakes said, “we were looking for your husband.”

“Ex-husband. Soon to be, anyway. Why do you want Gene? What’s he done?”

“What makes you think he’s done anything, Pookie?” Jakes said.

“Well, you are the police, right? So I’m assuming the son of a bitch is in trouble. Is he?”

“You and your husband don’t get along?”

“We’re not getting a divorce because we adore each other, Detective,” she deadpanned.

“We’d like to ask him some questions concerning a homicide,” Jakes said.

“Gene really stepped in it this time, huh?”

“How long have you been married?”

“Ten years,” she said. “We met in Vegas. I was a showgirl, front row center. That’s when I got the nickname Pookie. Gene called me that. He was an up-and-coming doctor. And we fell in love.”

“So what happened?”

“He wasn’t the man I thought he was,” she said. “And as he got bigger and more successful, I started to be an embarrassment on his arm. He stopped calling me Pookie, and wanted everyone else to, as well. Not respectable, and all that bullshit. Excuse my French.”

“He didn’t like the idea of your having been a showgirl?” Davis asked.

“Apparently. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, though.”

“So he doesn’t live here?” Jakes said.

“Hasn’t for years.”

“What do you know about his work with the Whitney Institute and Genetic Systems?” Jakes asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “But I sure as hell wouldn’t let him work on me.”

“You don’t think he’s a good doctor?”

“He’s gotten into the research side over the past few years,” she said. “That office he has in Vegas? It’s run by partners. He only does a few surgeries, mostly breast augmentations. I guess he likes the female clientele.”

“So you don’t know about his research?”

“I told you. Nothing. I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to.”

“I see,” Jakes said. “Well, if you see him or talk to him—”

“I won’t,” she assured us. “Not a chance. Sorry. I guess you’ll have to keep looking for him.”

The three of us exchanged glances. Was she telling the truth, or protecting her husband? Was this an act?

Toni Jones walked in pushing a drink cart. It looked like he had decided to surprise us with martinis.

“What will everyone have?” she asked, smiling.

“We’re on the clock, Pookie,” Jakes said.

As Davis drove us away from Pookie’s house, he complained that he’d missed lunch.

“You’re right.” I said, looking at my watch. “It’s after four—almost time for dinner.”

“I’m starving.”

At that point, Jakes’s cell phone rang. He held a finger up to us and answered.

“What do you say the three of us get some dinner?” Davis asked.

“I already have plans, but I thought you didn’t like me anymore, Len.”

“Ms. Peterson, why would you say something like that?”

“Well, you used to call me Alex, but ever since I left
The Yearning Tide
, you’ve been calling me Ms. Peterson.”

“Oh, well,” Davis stammered, “I was just, uh, disappointed. You know, as a fan of the show, and of Tiffany’s—I mean, yours . . .”

My phone beeped, rescuing Len from having to stammer out the rest of his apology. It was a text from George.

B there n 15
, I texted back.

Jakes and I ended our calls at exactly the same time.

“That was Cushing,” he said.

“Cushing?” I asked.

“She said one of the girls who lived with Linda Bronsky is dead.”

“What?”

“Which one?” Davis asked.

“Susan Couture,” he answered. Then he looked at me. “The girl we spoke to together.”

“My God,” I said. “That poor girl. How?”

“Same way as Shana and Linda.”

“What about the other girl? Elizabeth?” I asked.

“Cushing says she was a witness and is on the run.”

“Does Cushing think she’s coming here?” Davis asked.

“Why would she think that?” I asked.

“She does. She said Elizabeth has family here,” Jakes said. And then to me, “We have to check this out. Without you. Sorry.”

“No problem. I have plans with George, anyway. Remember? We’re close to the studio. Just drop me off at my car.”

“Sure,” Jakes said.

“Call me as soon as you know something, okay?” I still wanted to be kept in the loop.

Jakes pulled into the artist’s entrance, and I poked my head out of the car so the guard could see it was me.

“Hi, Ms. Peterson!” He opened the gate for us as we drove through. The car stopped and I jumped out. I bent down to give Jakes a kiss, but we both hesitated with Davis there. Awkward.

“Like I don’t know you two are involved. Kiss her already!” Len shouted as he turned the other way to give us privacy. We kissed. Quickly.

 

I was walking down the hallway toward the elevator when George came barreling around the corner, almost colliding with me.

“Oh, sorry, honey! I thought we were meeting out front,” George said.

“I thought we’d just walk out through the back of the studio and go to the Grove for dinner.”

The Grove is a very trendy mall that caters to the rich and famous. A TMZ favorite, it’s also, conveniently, in our studio’s backyard.

“I don’t care where we go as long as they serve food and drink. Onward!” And we linked arms and headed for the rear of the studio.

On the way over to the Grove, I told him about our day: talking to Mr. Bennett at the Institute, and later on to the soon-to-be-ex-Mrs. Reynolds, Pookie.

“Ooh,” he said, when I was done. “Tell me again about the man with the long black ponytail. Toni with an
i
.”

“Never mind; you’re married,” I said. “Besides, he’s not your type. If he’s gay, he’d be rough trade.”

“Oh, well,” George said. “At my age, my rough-trade days are over. What about Pookie?”

“Who cares about Pookie? I mean, she’s gorgeous, in a Tina Louise kind of way. And very, very limber.” George looked his question. “You don’t want to know.”

We were heading out the security gates that led to the Grove’s back entrance when Mickey, a security guard, stopped us.

“Hey, Ms. Peterson? Did that guy find you?”

“What guy, Mickey?”

“He didn’t say his name. I assumed he was a fan, but he said he knew you. He was wondering if you were here today.”

“Huh. No. Nobody found me. You’re probably right about his being a fan. Thanks.”

We pushed through the gates as Mickey called to me, “You have all sorts of fans, don’t you?”

“All kinds of fans, Mickey. All kinds!”

George pulled me ahead. “C’mon, already. I’m starving!”

Daylight saving time had “fallen back,” so even though it was only five o’clock, it was already dark outside. George and I were catching up on our gossip as we walked in the alley behind the Grove. We were taking a shortcut to our favorite restaurant, Maggiano’s. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone walking across from and a little behind us by the parking structure. I glanced over and was taken aback. At first I didn’t think I was right, but I was. He was hard to miss.

What, I thought, is Toni Jones doing at the Grove?

“What’s wrong?” George asked when he saw the look on my face.

“Look there,” I said, “by the parking structure.”

We both looked, and nobody was there.

“I don’t see anything,” George said.

“He was there.”

“Who?”

I turned to look at George. “Toni Jones.”

“Rough Trade?” George asked.

“In the flesh.”

George looked again.

“A coincidence?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Wait! That’s who Mickey was referring to! Toni must have been looking for me at the studio. He must have followed us here.”

“Maybe he wants to talk to you.”

“So pick up the phone. And why did he leave so abruptly just now?” The more I thought about it, the stranger it seemed. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Why is he here? What does he want from me? Did Pookie send him?”

“But why?” George asked. “Are you sure it isn’t a coincidence? Everyone comes to the Grove, you know.”

“They don’t usually hang out in the alley, George. And it had to be him at the studio, too.”

George thought about that for a second.

“Well, how about if I walk around and have a look?” he asked.

“By yourself?”

“Please,” he said, drawing himself up. “For you, I can be the man.”

I actually considered it for a moment.

“No, no,” I said, waving his offer away. “Why start now? Ha! Just kidding. This is silly. Let’s just walk around the corner and see if he’s there and what he’s up to—together.”

“Okay,” he said, “but remember my offer.”

I rubbed his arm and said, “I’ll always remember your sweet offer to be the man, Georgie.”

He put his arm out for me to take and we walked back toward the studio.

“Uh-oh,” George said, when we were three steps around the corner. “Is that him, right over there?”

Toni was lounging against the wall of the parking structure, under a streetlight. He was wearing a muscle shirt that showed off his biceps and huge shoulders.

“That’s him.” I looked at his eyes. “He looks pissed off. I mean, really pissed off.”

“Honey,” he said, “that’s the Incredible Hulk.”

“He’s big all right—”

“Alex, see the tattoo on his arm? The eye?”

I did see it. I looked at George inquisitively. Then it dawned on me. The Incredible Hulk at the Halloween party had the same tattoo. An eye. Toni. With an eye!

“Holy crap,” I said. “He was at Hef’s.”

Just then, Toni started walking toward us. The light from the streetlamp reflected off something shiny in his right hand. I was sure it was a knife! I grabbed George’s arm in one hand and my cell in another.

“Walk!” I said to George. “Now!”

I hit speed dial and, luckily, Jakes picked up.

“Jakes, thank God!”

“Alex, what is it?”

“He’s here.”

“Who’s where?”

“Toni Jones. George and I are in the alley behind the Grove. And he just appeared. And he was at the studio earlier, looking for me.”

“Okay, relax,” he said. “Maybe he just wants to talk to you.”

“Jakes! He was at the Halloween party, too.” I said. “And I’m pretty sure he has a knife.”

It didn’t even take a second for it to sink in.

“Are you around people?”

“No! We’re in an alleyway.” I ran to a door behind a boutique and pulled. Locked! I turned around; Toni was still fifty yards away, but slowly gaining on us. “He’s getting closer!”

“Find a crowd. You have to find people!”

“We have to get inside the Grove, George! Where is the opening?” George was as white as a sheet. He stared at me with eyes as big as saucers.

“Up ahead. A few yards ahead. We’ll be at the fountain.” I looked at him, then realized he was right.

“The fountain. The dancing waters. That’s where we’re going!”

“I can be there in fifteen. I’m not sure what he’s up to, but let’s not take any chances. I’ll call for backup and they’ll be there soon. Go! Don’t hang up, Alex. Just go!” And we started walking faster, checking every door to the stores as we ran. Each one was locked.

“Oh, shit!” George exclaimed. I turned and saw that Toni was gaining. He looked all pumped up, like he was going to explode.

“He’s ’roided,” George whimpered.

“I’ve seen it a lot in West Hollywood with the body-builders. They’re pumped up on steroids and have a certain insane look when they’ve overdone it. They’re crazy nuts, Alex! Violent! Call the cops!”

His voice had risen to a squeal. I guess this was him being the man. He grabbed my arm tighter.

“Ow! I’m still on with Jakes. Jakes, are you still there?” Nothing. “Jakes! Shit! We got cut off. George, just stay calm!” He gave me a withering look and glanced behind us.

“Run!” I looked behind us and saw that Toni had started to run toward us. He must have noticed we were close to a break in the stores and were heading into the main Grove walkway. We started sprinting. We reached the corner only to collide into a security guard.