Swept Away

by Robyn Carr

  “Louise wrote the name down for me,” she said, rising. “There’s an after-hours emergency vet....”

  “I know where we’re going. Just grab a towel for the car.” He hefted all seventy-five pounds of Alice into his arms and headed for his car. “Get in the back with her,” he told Jennifer.

  As they drove, Alex dialed his cell phone. “Sam,” he said. “I know, I know—but it’s Alice. She can’t move her hind legs and she left a mess on the floor not far from herself—like maybe she dragged herself away from it. No, no, she’d only been alone a half hour or so.” To Jennifer he asked, “Any other symptoms earlier in the day? Has she been eating, drinking, et cetera?”

  “Perfectly normal. A little slow and achy—but that’s to be expected.”

  Jennifer cradled Alice’s head on her lap in the backseat, gently stroking her. All thoughts of her own predicament were suddenly gone. She lay her head atop the dog’s and prayed that they could have a little more time together. She couldn’t believe she’d almost left her! She might’ve died...alone.

  They didn’t drive very far before Alex stopped the car in front of a yellow house converted into an animal hospital. He turned around and spoke over the seat. “I know about the emergency vet in Henderson—but Sam and Alice go way back, so I took a chance and called him. He’s coming over to meet us.”

  But she wondered if what was happening to Alice was beyond the skill of even the best vet.

  It was only a couple of minutes before Sam Gunterson pulled his Jeep into the parking space in front of the office. He’d been in the diner a few times, but Jennifer had never been happier to see him. While he unlocked the door, Alex carried the patient. “There are very few women I’d get up in the middle of the night for, my dear,” he said to the dog, giving her a fond pat. “Hey, Doris, how you doing?”

  “Not so great at the moment,” she said quietly.

  “Try not to worry too much, Doris. Alex, I’m going to have you put her in the surgery for me. Then I won’t have to move her to do an exam, take blood, X-ray or any other procedures. And you two can wait out front.”

  Jennifer stood in the small, deserted waiting room until Alex returned. The expression of worry on his face made her realize that he felt at least as attached to Alice as she did. “If I’d been successful in running away, we wouldn’t have found Alice. At least not tonight.”

  He just put his hands in his pockets, watched her face and waited.

  “I came to Las Vegas with a guy named Nick Noble,” she said. “I’ve been his...his mistress for just under two years. We’d been in town for three days when I came back to our room and found he was in a brutal argument with his wife, Barbara. She was throwing things and they were both yelling. One of his guys saw me peek into the room and then quietly duck out. I went to a bar in the casino for a couple of hours, and when I came back it looked like a bomb had gone off in the suite. Barbara was facedown on the bed and I heard Nick tell his guys to get rid of her. And, he said, ‘Find that bimbo I brought with me—we’re going to have to do something about her, too.’”

  “And you left,” Alex supplied.

  “I just went to another hotel for a few days and watched the news and newspapers. I don’t know what I expected—but I sure wasn’t prepared to see a picture of me as missing, along with the accusation that I had stolen from him.”

  “You have jewelry and money?” he asked.

  “Two rings that were given to me quite a while ago and a tennis bracelet I got on this trip. Then there was the cash. Nick was in the habit of giving me shopping money to keep me occupied while he played poker. When I saw the picture of me that was published, all that long blond hair that Nick loved so much—well, you know what I did.”

  “Your life must have been very complicated.”

  “No, Alex. It’s complicated now. My life was very simple before—mainly because I operated in an emotional vacuum. All I had to do was be pleasant and beautiful and low maintenance. Nick took care of everything. It was pretty easy to primp and dress well and be available for dates.”

  “Dates with this married guy you didn’t even love?” he asked, but he didn’t ask it in an incredulous manner, as though she must be crazy.

  “Exactly, Alex. This married guy was on his third wife—and I had no intention of ever being the fourth. The most I could do for him was make it look like he had attracted a hot young chick.”

  “How’d you get together?”

  “I worked for a property management company. I was a secretary-slash-agent. I managed a few office buildings—rented space, wrote leases, collected rent and occasionally called a plumber or electrician if something was broken. The buildings were an investment of Nick’s. He came in to the management company to meet with my boss and he asked me out.” She took a breath. “I didn’t go out with him right away.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the police immediately?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about that a lot. How would this be different if I’d gone to the front desk and said, ‘There’s a dead woman in Nick Noble’s room.’ But I wasn’t sure the hotel wouldn’t cover it up. You have no idea what lengths they went to to keep him happy and coming back. They sent their private jet for him four times a year and put him up in the most luxurious suite imaginable. Even if they wouldn’t have broken the law for him, I thought they might worry more about his safety than mine. After all, I was just his bimbo.

  “Then there was something about the way I found her—and him. When his guys left the room, I heard the shower running. I tiptoed into the suite, poked my head into the bedroom, saw Barbara’s lifeless body and heard him singing in the shower. Singing. All of a sudden everything I knew about him, but had denied to myself, came rushing into my mind. He’s cold. Dangerous. Powerful. Unremorseful. I ran. Alex, I had no one to run to. No family, no friends, no one who would’ve helped me. I just got away from there. I covered my tracks by going to the airport and buying a ticket in all my long-legged blondness and then, covering my head with a scarf, took a cab to a neighborhood hotel off the Strip.

  “By the time I thought maybe I had made a mistake and would have been better off telling someone, Nick and his thugs had had time to get rid of her and clean up the evidence.” She shrugged. “Then I saw he reported me missing. I thought I was cooked.”

  “You don’t watch much crime drama on TV, do you?” Alex asked. “We can still go into that suite and find evidence.”

  “Am I going to be in trouble for leaving?” she asked him.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I don’t know that we can even be sure about what you saw.”

  “Her body, Alex. I saw her body. The hair on the back of her head was matted and wet with blood.”

  “A lot of red, was there?”

  “Not a lot, really. Splatters around the suite.”

  “Okay, I’m going to look into it. And you’re going to be Doris for a while longer while I do. But this time, you don’t run again.”

  No, she thought. No more. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to run from any of it anymore. “I’m a little scared,” she said.

  “I don’t blame you. I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”

  Suddenly it wasn’t Nick she was most afraid of. It was Alex. What if, after she revealed the whole truth about herself, her gentlemen friends over the years and how she’d lived on their generosity, Alex lost all respect for her? But all she said was “I appreciate that. Thank you.”

  * * *

  Alice had a tumor that was pressing against her spine, causing temporary paralysis. Sam Gunterson operated on her first thing the next morning. There was a higher than usual risk, given Alice’s age, but she had a strong spirit and pulled through. She had to stay in the veterinary hospital for a couple of days, so that was where Jennifer would spend the afternoons until Ali
ce could come home.

  Dear Louise,

  I’ll start off by saying that everything is going to be all right. Alice gave me quite a scare last night—she couldn’t get up. Alex and I rushed her to the vet—Sam came in just for her. It turned out she had a tumor on her spine, which he successfully removed. She’s going to be a little weak and wimpy for a while, but Sam is convinced she will make a full recovery. I swear, she took ten years off my life.

  Love,

  Doris

  My dear Doris,

  Thank God you were there! I can’t even bear to think of how frightened poor Alice must have been—and how much she must have appreciated you taking such good care of her! Thank Alex for me, too.

  Bless you!

  Louise

  * * *

  Jennifer was wiping off a couple of the tabletops just prior to retiring her apron, anxious to get over to Sam’s to see how Alice was doing, when Hedda came into the diner to relieve her. The girl seemed to be in a nasty little mood, a very unusual circumstance. Even with all she had to put up with daily, she never failed to have a cordial smile and greeting. Today she didn’t say hello, didn’t look up as she entered and seemed to stow her purse under the counter with a pretty rough thrust.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Jennifer teased.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “I’m sure. With prom getting so close.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you been shopping for your dress yet?” Jennifer asked, ducking a little to get under Hedda’s downcast eyes.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “What’s up, kid? Something wrong?”

  “Finals. It’s almost time for finals.”

  Jennifer grabbed her wrist and dragged her past the grill toward the back door and bathroom. “Hey,” Hedda protested.

  “Hey, nothing. I have to get going—Alice is under the weather. But I can’t leave my precious little diner in the hands of such a crab apple. What’s your deal?”

  “Nothing, I said. Just got a lot on my—”

  “Last week you couldn’t shut up about the dress you were going to get for the prom. Now you have finals on your mind?”

  Tears gathered in the girl’s eyes. “I’m not going.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. Now, let’s drop it.” She pushed Jennifer aside and stepped inside the bathroom, locking the door.

  Memories flooded back to her. Jennifer had never gone to a prom or homecoming. Hell, she’d never gone to anything! She’d never been around a school long enough to be asked. And if she had been asked, chances were she’d never be able to float the whole dress issue. But she’d known her fair share of guys in high school, and she knew what they were capable of. In fact, all the heartache surrounding these events was way more crystal clear to Jennifer than any of the glitter and fun of it.

  “Come on, Hedda,” she said to the door. She leaned her ear against it. Just barely, muffled in there, was sniffling.

  Jennifer went to the cash register and got the key to the bathroom. She unlocked the door and let herself in. “Hey!” Hedda protested from behind the fluffy white toilet tissue that soaked up her tears.

  “Look, Hedda, I spent my entire high school career crying by myself in bathrooms. I’m not going to let you start doing it. It’s a terrible habit to get into. Now, what happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did Max change his mind about taking you?”

  “No. I just can’t go is all.”

  “Since when?”

  She sighed heavily and impatiently, but the tears rolled down her cheeks despite her attempt to appear annoyed. “Since my mom needed the money for the car insurance and we had to make some choices. Okay?” And she blew her nose heartily.

  This was also something with which Jennifer had a great deal of experience. Single mom, a kid or two, no money... The specifics didn’t matter—they just didn’t have much. They lived paycheck to paycheck with very little left over. And Sylvia had to have her evenings out now and then....

  “Oh, is that all?” Jennifer heard herself ask.

  That brought a stunned look from behind the tissue. “Is that all?”

  “So we’re just talking about a dress?”

  “Just a dress,” Hedda said with sarcasm. “My mom talked about looking around for a used one. My luck, it would probably end up being one of the mean girls’ hand-me-downs. Wouldn’t that be cool.”

  Jennifer reached out to her, using her thumb to wipe away a tear. “That might be easier to work around than you think. I might be able to come up with something.”

  “You? You’re even less prom-appropriate than I am! I mean, no offense.”

  She pursed her lips together and huffed. “While this is true, I also have a fairy godmother right next door. And a couple of saved-up bucks.”

  “Swell, but I doubt I could ever repay you.”

  “That’s the beauty of it—you wouldn’t necessarily have to. We could come up with a plan—you could help me out with taking care of Alice or something. The details aren’t important—you know?” She broke into a wide grin. “Friends are there for each other.”

  “I don’t know,” Hedda said, blowing her nose a final time. “It seems like you’re always there for me, but there isn’t much I can do for you.”

  “We’ll see about that. Are you free tonight after work?”

  “Yes and no. I have to baby-sit at six so my mom can go to work.”

  “Oh, not to worry—we can take care of little brother.” She winked at Hedda. “Don’t give up yet. We’ll get this handled.”

  Hedda just looked at Jennifer, unbelieving. “Sure,” she said.

  * * *

  The minute Alex got to work, before the briefing even started, he told his partner everything Jennifer had told him, bringing her up to speed.

  “We’re going to be forced to talk to Dobbs,” Paula said to Alex. “There’s no getting around it.”

  Alex knew it. In his efforts to locate Barbara Noble he was coming up empty. There was no indication she was dead, but no indication she was alive, either. In trying to trace her movements, he’d discovered she had gone from one vacation home to another, from a spa to a cruise—all out of the country. A couple of phone calls revealed people who claimed to have seen her—but what if that wasn’t really her? Anyone could be a stand-in.

  “I just hate to draw Dobbs’s attention back to Jennifer. I’d like to know what he wants from her first.”

  “We have to call him before he calls us,” she said.

  “You do it,” Alex said. “At least make it look like it’s a police thing, not a neighborhood thing or a romance thing.”

  Paula peered at him. “So—it is a romance thing?”

  “Well, I’m trying! There have been one or two little things clogging up the works! Like a possible murder.”

  Paula put the business card from Dobbs on her knee and dialed her cell phone. “You have to admit, if that’s what happened, she has good reason to be scared.” She listened for a second. “Yeah, Dobbs, this is Detective Aiken from Las Vegas Metro. I want to run something by you, might be information you need. We have a C.I. who says he has it on good authority that Nick Noble killed his wife, Barbara.” She listened for a moment. “Well, how we got it was the C.I. claims it happened here in Vegas, at the hotel where he was staying. It’s pretty murky since we can’t get any confirmation from the hotel that the wife was in town, and we haven’t been able to confirm our efforts to locate her.” Again, she listened. “Well, I was told by the concierge of a spa in Costa Rica that she had been there, but she hadn’t been to that spa before, so they weren’t familiar with her. Coulda been anyone, huh? Huh? Oh, yeah? Oh, yeah? No, sorry—I can’t give that up. But I don’t
think this has anything to do with Noble—our C.I. was trying to trade us anything under the sun for a walk and I just thought I’d give you a call. Better to be safe than sorry, huh?”

  She clicked off and looked at Alex. “Barbara Noble is not dead.”

  That seemed to knock him back in his chair. He waited for more.

  “I doubt Dobbs believes we have a confidential informant, but since he knows we know they’re watching Noble, he was able to verify that Barbara Noble is alive and kicking. But here’s the thing that’s a little strange—he didn’t ask me for any details of the alleged ‘death.’ Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Because he knows all about it. Because he knows everyone who was there.”

  “You’re going to have to tell Jennifer. And between the two of you, see if you can figure out why she’d be a threat to Noble, since we know she didn’t witness a crime. More important, let’s see if we can figure out what the FBI wants.”

  * * *

  Jennifer would have enlisted the assistance of Rose on the shopping trip in any case, but the issue of needing a car clinched the matter. Besides, the only shops Jennifer knew about were on the strip—Chanel, Armani, Brighten—and she couldn’t help quite that much, even if she had once frequented those shops. Jennifer needed some direction for shopping for prom dresses she could afford. And Rose had a black belt in shopping.

  “Do you think she’s going to let you buy her a prom dress?” Rose asked.

  “I think she’ll show sufficient resistance,” Jennifer said. “She’s really proud. So, worst-case scenario, we do a little shopping, a little trying on, see what’s good, and then go back for the dress later.”

  “Ah,” Rose said. “Then we knock her over the head on prom night and pour her into it?”

  “Whatever it takes,” she said.

  “This is a strange thing you’re doing,” Rose pointed out, unable to resist letting her eyes rove over Jennifer’s attire.

  “I know. I hate proms. What they do to girls is offensive to me. Everybody in that age group gets all overwrought at this time of year, panicked at the thought of going or not going. It isn’t really all that important, is it? Which is why, at the age of thirty, I am still thinking about the effect that proms had on me. And why I don’t want Hedda, who has a chance to put on a pretty dress and go, to miss it over a car insurance payment.”