Diva Las Vegas (9 page)

He took pity on me and agreed to meet for lunch.

 

Jakes was waiting at a table when I arrived. I have to say one thing about him: He rarely, if ever, keeps me waiting. Nine times out of ten he’s the first to arrive, which I appreciate. There’s nothing worse than having a waiter or waitress try to entertain you while you sit and wait.

He stood up as I approached the table and kissed me quickly on the mouth.

“How was your morning?” he asked as I sat.

“Uneventful,” I said. “What did you find out from the pharmacy?”

“Just what you thought,” he said. “The doctor who prescribed the medicine is your guy. He called the prescriptions in for Shana.”

“So she went to him for plastic surgery. For what—new breasts?”

“That we don’t know,” he said. “I have to go and see the ME later today. Hopefully, he’ll have more information for us.”

“Us?”

He smiled and said, “Len and me.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t tell me you want to go to the morgue with me, Alex!” he said. “You don’t want to see Shana that way, do you?”

“No.” Did I? Maybe a teensy-weensy bit. But I decided against that sensorial nightmare, and said, “I don’t. But I’ll be interested in what you find out.”

“And I’ll tell you,” he said. “Now let’s order, huh?”

 

Over dessert, Jakes asked, “What’s wrong? You look low.”

“I’m just feeling . . .”

“What?”

“Well, I spent last night on the computer and yesterday with Riley trying to find out what you got by talking to a pharmacist.”

“So?”

“So I wasted my time.”

“What else would you have done with that time?”

I hesitated, then said, “I don’t know.”

“Why’d you do the computer research last night?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“So that means you found out about the doctor before I did.”

“Yeah, but you got it confirmed by a licensed pharmacist.”

“I’m a cop, remember. And this is not a competition, Alex,” he said. “We both got the same information in a different way. That’s all.”

“Well, I wasted my time with Riley.”

“Why?”

“She couldn’t tell me who the doctor was, or anything about the medication I didn’t already know—or you didn’t get from the pharmacist. It was a waste.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said. “Finish your cake.”

 

After we left the restaurant, we walked arm in arm to my car.

“Hey, how’s it going with your new boss?” I asked.

Jakes used to have a female captain he said had a thing for him. When he turned her down, she started giving him hell. She had also never liked me. But she had been replaced a month ago by a man named Campbell.

“Campbell’s okay,” he said. “I worked with him before, a long time ago when we were both detectives.”

“And now he’s a captain.”

“I know,” he said. “And I’m still a detective. I like being a detective.”

“So you’ve told me.”

One of the many things I’d learned about Jakes was that he didn’t like bosses and didn’t want to be a boss. I understood that this was a choice on his part, not a lack of ambition.

“So, what will you do now?” I asked.

“Talk to the ME; try to get that Vegas doctor on the phone. What are you going to do with the rest of your day?” he asked.

“Some shopping, pick up Sarah from school, make dinner . . . you know, mom and housewife stuff.”

“You’re no housewife.”

“I was.”

“Miss it?”

“No,” I said, “Because I was married to that bastard—” I stopped short.

“You want to talk about Randy?” he asked.

“No.”

“Want me to go find him and throw him a beating?”

“Yes,” I said. Then, “No.”

I leaned into him.

“I just can’t believe he would sue for custody and be taken seriously by any court.”

“As far as I can tell, he hasn’t been convicted of anything.”

I shook my head. “This is crazy.”

“Why don’t you wait and see whether he really does it?” Jakes said. “Then we can decide what to do.”

“We?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, “we.”

I did some shopping for incidentals—lipstick, eye shadow, mascara; the kind of shopping a woman can do on automatic pilot—all the while thinking of Shana and plastic surgery. I was wishing she had some family or friends I could talk to, but that didn’t seem to be the case. And if she’d had someone to confide in, why would she have come to me?

I had studied the dates on the prescription bottles several times. We knew the dates of the three were the same, but I couldn’t remember what it was.

While I sat parked in front of Sarah’s school, waiting for her to be dismissed, I took out the bottles and checked them again. They were all from last year. I took out my cell phone and called Jakes.

“Miss me already?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, “but I also have a question.”

“What is it?”

“Did you ask the pharmacist when Shana first filled her prescriptions?”

“Yeah, I did. Hold on.” I knew he was taking out his notebook. I kept my eyes on the front door of the school. I recognized some of the children coming out, so I knew Sarah was on her way. I opened the car door, preparing to get out.

“Here,” he said, and read me the dates. They were the same as the dates on the bottles in my hands.

“These bottles have that same date, and they’re not empty,” I said. “Looks like she never renewed the prescriptions.”

“She never used them up?” he said. “Maybe she didn’t need them.”

“She didn’t strike me as someone who had a high pain threshold,” I said.

“Maybe she was a quick healer.”

“What did the ME have to say?” I asked.

I could hear paper, like he was opening the ME’s report.

“He found scars on her breasts,” he said. “You know, consistent with incisions for breast implants.”

“Not a surprise.”

“And he found saline implants, size thirty-eight double-D.”

“Ouch.”

“Okay, but here’s a surprise,” he said. “He found something odd about the skin around her eyes.”

“What do you mean,
odd
?”

“He said the flesh around her eyes was kind of thin,” Jakes explained.

“What does that mean?”

More pages moving. “I don’t know. That’s all it says. I’ll check with him.”

“Okay, so what’s next? Did you talk to the doctor in Las Vegas?”

“That’s a problem,” Jakes said. “Nobody’s answering his office phone. We’re trying to find another listing for him, home or cell. We also had Las Vegas PD send a car to his house, but nobody was there.”

“Did they go inside?”

“They refused,” Jakes said. “There’s no probable cause to break into his house.”

“Really? Shana’s been murdered! That’s not probable cause?”

“There’s no proof the doctor is involved. And the murder took place here, not in their jurisdiction.”

“So,” I surmised, “it sounds like we need to go to Vegas.”

“We?” he asked.

“That’s right, we. I was asked to go there this weekend for a soap opera fan event called Daytime in the Desert. I didn’t want to go because I had too much on my plate, but it sounds like it could work out perfectly. Then you can talk to Barry.”

“A little work; a little play. I like it. We haven’t gotten away together yet. So. Just you and me in Sin City, huh?” Jakes actually sounded kind of excited, in a Jakes-understated sort of way.

“Yeah, just you and me.” I was getting excited, too. Maybe we could see a show, be alone for a couple of days and see how we were together away from home. I’d still be working, but not so much at night.

“I’ll have Sarah and my mom stay with George and Wayne, you know, just in case Randy tries something stupid. It’s probably not necessary, but it would make me feel better.”

Jakes was saying something, but I was only half listening. Sarah hadn’t come out yet. I looked at the clock on the dash. She was a little later than usual. Not by that much, but she definitely was. Then a slow panic began to creep up. Where was she? Had Randy gotten her? Would the school let her go with him? I must have let out a gasp, because Jakes’s voice snapped me back to the moment.

“What’s wrong, Alex? Are you okay?” he asked.

“Sarah isn’t out yet. She’s always out by now. Oh, my God. What if—” Just then, Sarah came running out, struggling to put on her backpack.

“Oh, thank God. She’s here.” My whole body flooded with relief. “Sorry about that. Can I call you right back?” I hung up after he said yes, and jumped out of the car. Sarah saw me, waved and started running toward me. I picked her up and hugged her tightly.

“Mommy, ow! Too tight!” she said pushing me away.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just missed you so, so much today.” I put her down and kissed her head all over. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Mommy. Can we stop at Star-bucks and get a Strawberries and Crème?”

“Sure we can. Let’s go!” I grabbed her hand and we jumped in the car. I was wiping tears of relief off my face as we drove away. Then I realized. There was no way I was going to Vegas without Sarah. Who was I kidding?

But how was I going to parent my child, be a sexy, fun-loving girlfriend, entertain the fans, investigate a murder and avoid my mother’s disapproval all at the same time?

“We’re going to Las Vegas, Nevada? All of us?”

“I’m going to Daytime in the Desert—a big event for soap opera fans. It’ll be fun! Vegas is a family town, now, too. There are lots of kid-friendly things to do. And the food! Great food. Mandalay Bay even has a beach. With real waves!”

Was I pouring it on a little too thick? Maybe. But Mom was giving me that look. Skepticism oozed from her pores.

“What?”

“I thought you hated those things.”

“I hate the structure, but I love fans. Where would I be without them? They actually care about the show and the characters. And I do enjoy giving back in a more personal way. I mean it. But also . . . the show wants me to go. Okay? They want me to go. And I want to be a team player. It doesn’t hurt to keep the powers that be happy, right?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything?” My very wise and very annoying mother asked me pointedly.

“I don’t know what you mean.” And then to distract her, I added, “You have to pack. Go. Go. We’re leaving in the morning. Bring a swimsuit. Go.”

She stared at me, glaring in a way that used to make me confess everything when I was a teenager. I was pleased that it didn’t work anymore. I stared right back at her, and eventually she relented and walked out the back door toward the guesthouse, presumably to pack.

One down. Now I had to tell Jakes that there was a small glitch with our romantic getaway weekend. I called him on his cell.

“Hey, babe. Are you getting ready? What time should I pick you up in the a.m.?” This was going to be more difficult than I had thought. He sounded really excited. How very cute!

“Jakes, slight problem. I, uh, I just don’t feel a hundred percent good about leaving Sarah in LA, even with George. Randy is a loose cannon. You know? I mean, he probably wouldn’t try anything, but you never know with him. I’d be worried the whole time.” I felt bad. Really bad. “Sorry.” I kind of muttered.

Jakes didn’t miss a beat.

“No problem. So, what? You want to bring her along? How does that work?”

“Well.” I took a breath. “My mom and Sarah and I will fly in to Vegas. A limo will pick us up and be at our disposal the whole time. This operation is pretty first-class, apparently; they’re even putting me up at the Bellagio in a nice, big fat suite. Can you get a room there, too? Then even if we can’t be alone all the time, we’d still be close.”

“You’re funny,” he said. “I’ll be lucky if the department gives me enough cash for a Motel 6. But it’s okay! This can still work out. I’m gonna drive there; I like the drive through the desert. I would have preferred to make it with you, but that’s cool. It gives me time to think and work out some questions about Shana’s murder. We’ll hook up in Vegas and take it from there.” He sounded all right, but I wasn’t completely sure.

“You really okay with this? I gotta do what I gotta do, you know what I mean? She’s my kid. . . .”

“Of course I’m okay. You wouldn’t be the woman you are if you didn’t take care of Sarah the way you do. And the woman you are is the woman I’m crazy about. It’s all good.” It was better than good. He was awesome. And I was tearing up.

We said we’d touch base once in Vegas. I still had my phone in my hand after hanging up. I couldn’t quite let it go, because something was bugging me. He had said he was fine with Sarah and my mom coming along, and I believed him, but something was different. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe I was just being insecure.

I shook it off, because now I had some packing to do. Viva Las Vegas!

“Mommy! This is fun!” My darling daughter was standing on the limo seat with her head sticking up through the sunroof, the hot desert wind whipping her blond hair all over her face. The driver was not amused. He kept looking disapprovingly in his rearview mirror.

“Sarah, get down from there. That’s enough!” I looked at the driver and gave him a kids—whatare-you-gonna-do-with-’em? look. He just shook his head. That kind of pissed me off. So I got up on the seat and stuck my head up through the sunroof, too. Sarah was right. It was fun.

We were zipping down Las Vegas Boulevard—the Strip—and even at one in the afternoon, the town was hopping. Streets were filled with a multitude of tourists in Bermuda shorts on their way to shop, eat and, of course, gamble. We waved at them as we sped past the MGM Grand, New York-New York, Monte Carlo, and Planet Hollywood, and they waved back. Even the crazy-hot air was exhilarating in a strange way.