A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  Carter gave me an encouraging look. “We’ll get in touch with the photographer. Chances are he only uploaded a small fraction of what he actually shot that night. With any luck, he still has the others. It would be helpful to get a copy of a photo of this mystery woman talking with Wayne.”

  It was eleven o’clock by the time Carter pulled in front of my apartment. “You’re welcome to come up if you want. I know it’s late, but we can talk about the case. Or we can talk about other things.”

  Carter arched an eyebrow. “Other things?”

  “You know, catch up on stuff. I haven’t seen you in a week. What have you been doing with yourself? You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?”

  A disconcerted look crossed his face. “Avoiding you? Why would you think that?”

  “After our job in Connecticut, things feel different between us. Have you met someone else?” I tried to keep my tone light and playful.

  “I’m just giving you space, that’s all.” He took my hand and held it gently. “Remember I told you I’m a patient man. Besides, the ball’s in your court. When you’re ready to play, I’m here.”

  I chuckled at his analogy. “You still think I’m hung up on Max?”

  He shrugged. “You guys were close. Takes time.”

  “We weren’t that close,” I said. “He was a rebound after my divorce. A lovely distraction. He was too young for me anyway. I knew it wouldn’t last.”

  “Max asked me not to tell you, but he called me last week.”

  “What? Why would he do that?”

  “He called me under the pretense of asking a technical question about surveillance, but I think he just wanted to talk about you.”

  Now I understood why Carter had been acting a little distant. “What did he say?”

  “He asked how you were doing. He seemed … I don’t know, heartbroken?”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “I thought he was pissed at me. He hasn’t returned any of my emails since we broke up. I guess he’s trying to punish me or something.”

  “Well, I could tell in his voice that he still pines for you. Maybe you should call him.”

  “And say what? He made his decision to move to California before he even discussed it with me. Anyway, I told him it was the right decision. I thought we ended things on good terms.”

  Carter let out a rough sigh. “Hey, I’m glad you didn’t go with him, but I guess I feel somewhat responsible for your breakup.”

  “My life is here. Even if I did go to California, it probably wouldn’t have lasted.”

  He lifted my hand and softly kissed the back of my fingers. “It’s late. Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  In the darkness of night, the bright October moon was the only light guiding me up the stairs to my apartment. As usual, Carter waited to make sure I was safely inside before he drove off.

  Chapter 3

  Sunday, October 18th

  The next morning I took a long shower, then got dressed in jeans, a button down blouse and my black boots. Since the weather forecast was to be cold and misty, I grabbed my rain jacket and umbrella. Carter was waiting curbside when I exited my apartment at 9:00 am sharp.

  “I got in touch with the photographer,” Carter said. “He’s agreed to meet us in twenty minutes.”

  “Did you ask him if he has the photos from last Thursday night?”

  “He has - two hundred and sixty-five to be exact.”

  “Great,” I said. “There’s a good chance we’ll find one of them with Wayne and Rita. Did you get a hold of the security company?”

  “I called but wasn’t able to talk to a human. I’m thinking we’ll stop by the headquarters in person after we see the photographer.”

  Jonas Eckert’s office was located near the downtown area of Oxford. His studio was basically a large open space with a desk and a computer. On one end, a lighting station was set up with props; big stuffed teddy bears and other toys. I imagined he had to subsidize his income by catering to adoring parents wanting precious photos of their munchkins.

  Jonas was tall and lanky, with a thin ponytail running down his back. He had a big nose and bushy eyebrows and reminded me of a caricature of himself. His clown-like features along with a wide smile and cheerful disposition, I could see him being a big hit with the young kiddos.

  After he graciously invited us to take a seat by his desk, he seemed genuinely interested in what we were after concerning his photographs. “So you’re looking for a woman, huh?”

  “Yes,” Carter said. “Her first name is Rita. She has shoulder length, dark hair and was wearing a red dress. About five-six or five-seven and very trim.”

  Jonas raised an eyebrow. “I think I remember this woman. Yep, she was a knockout for sure. She left with a guy who seemed a little below her pay grade, if you know what I mean. Why are you interested in her?”

  “She went home with our client that night after the event,” Carter replied. “He lost her name and number and wants us to find her.”

  Jonas gave us a look, he obviously didn’t believe our story. “Poor sucker. Those high-end prostitutes can be a bit snarky. They’ll rob you blind if you give ’em a chance.”

  “Why do you think she’s a prostitute?” Carter asked.

  “A hot woman like her with a schmuck like that? No offense to your client, but did he really think she’d be interested in a guy like him unless she had a good reason?”

  Carter shrugged. “Can you check to see if you have any photos of her?”

  “I’m sure I have.” He typed away on the keyboard and a moment later a slow smile spread across his face. “Here. She’s sitting with that guy at the bar.”

  Jonas turned the computer monitor around so we could see it. Rita’s hand rested on Wayne’s leg as she leaned in toward him, as if whispering something seductive. Wayne had his eyes firmly fixated on her chest. It was a nice profile picture of Rita, but it would be better to have her full face showing. “Is this the only one you have of them?” I asked.

  “I’ll keep checking. I’m sure there’s more.”

  There were a total of eight photos of Rita and Wayne. For a small fee, Jonas offered to print them out for us. The best one of the lot showed her full face, but her eyes were half closed. I noted she was wearing the Claddagh pendant Wayne had mentioned to us. Figures he would have remembered the pendant after staring at her chest all night.

  “Is there anything you remember about her?” I asked Jonas. “Did she talk to other people at the event?”

  “I don’t remember seeing her speak to anyone else, although I wasn’t really paying much attention to them,” he said. “But I do know they were still together when I left around ten-thirty.”

  “We appreciate your help,” Carter said, holding up the stack of photos.

  Chapter 4

  When we left Jonas’ photography studio, Carter drove clear across town to the address belonging to Fulcrum Security Company.

  “Why don’t I go in and talk to the manager while you stay out here. Search online for all the escort services in the area. Maybe Jonas is right and Rita’s picture will pop up on one of their websites.”

  “I’ll give it a shot.”

  After Carter disappeared inside the concrete building, I turned on my tablet and began the Internet search. To my surprise, there were over twenty-five escort services in the greater Boston area. It would take me hours to go through all of them. With no time to waste, I clicked on the first one, Temporarily Yours. There were seven women who each had their own page and bio with a provocative photo or two. Unfortunately, their faces had been pixilated so you couldn’t identify them. When I typed in Rita + escort + Boston in a Google search there were all kinds of hits, but nothing that really led me to anything concrete. So, I went back to scrutinizing each of the escort service websites.

  When Carter returned to the car, his expression was tight with irritation.


  “I take it you didn’t get Rita’s license plate number,” I said.

  “Kingston Court should hire a new security company. These people are hacks.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The surveillance cameras situated near the entrance are all fakes. They don’t even work so there’s no video of the vehicles entering the neighborhood from last Thursday night. When I tell Wayne about this, he won’t be pleased.”

  “Why don’t we find a place to have a sit down lunch? There are several dozen escort service websites for us to sift through. We might get lucky and find Rita on one of them.”

  Ten minutes later we were nestled in a booth of a restaurant called “Mama’s Kitchen.” The homey, quiet atmosphere seemed to be the perfect place to conduct some work while we fortified ourselves with wholesome food. We each ordered the lunch special: turkey club sandwiches with potato salad.

  The fare was decent and the waitress left us alone for the most part.

  We split up the websites in alphabetical order. I took A through H and Carter took I-Z. As I had suspected, most of the sites had body shots of girls with their faces either blurred, or they were posed in such a way that their faces were turned away from the camera. Accompanying each photo was a fake name like Candy or Cherry. I was about nearing the end of my list of sites when I came across one named, Hollywood’s Hottest Escort Service. When I clicked to enter the site, I was pleased to find these photographs had not blurred the girl’s faces. It also became clear that all of the girls resembled 40’s and 50’s Hollywood pinup models including, Marilyn Monroe, Ava Gardner, Jean Harlow and, wouldn’t ya know … Rita Hayworth. Rita Hayworth?

  “Holy crap,” I muttered as I focused in on the Rita Hayworth look alike. Same eyes, hair color, nose and full lips as the photo Jonas printed out for us.

  Carter looked up from his own laptop. “What? Did you find something?”

  “Look at this.” I handed him my tablet. “Tell me it’s the same woman in the photo with Wayne.”

  His eyes popped at first glimpse. “She obviously has more make-up on here, but you’re right. This is definitely the woman we’re looking for.” He regarded me with a proud smile. “Nice work, Sarah.”

  “Well, we can’t just call up and ask for Rita Hayworth’s real name. And I doubt they have a physical location we can show up and ask to see her.”

  “True,” Carter said. “Which is why I’ll have to call and set up a date with Rita.”

  “You mean, hire her for the night?”

  “Yes. Or at least a few hours. I’m thinking they charge a minimum of four hundred bucks an hour. And they’ll require a credit card deposit over the Internet. Wayne told us that money was no object. I’ll use one of my fake names.”

  “Maybe there’s an easier way to find out her real name,” I said, not really liking the idea of him getting involved in such a sleazy scene.

  He laughed quietly. “It’s not like I’m going to have sex with her, Sarah.”

  I sighed in resignation. “Do you have a plan?”

  “Simple. I’ll call up Hollywood’s Hottest and request Rita Hayworth for her next available opening. Then I’ll book a room at the Four Seasons and have her meet me there.”

  “What then?”

  Carter shrugged. “I suppose I could try to get a peek at her license to find out her real name.”

  “If that doesn’t work, I’ll wait in the car and follow her when she leaves the hotel. As long as her car is registered in her name, we’ll be able to look it up from the license plate.”

  “Now you’re thinking.” Carter paid the bill for lunch and we walked back to the car. Once inside, Carter opened his wallet and pulled out a credit card with the name Vick Calloway, one of his fake identities. He got on his phone and made the call to Hollywood’s Hottest while switching the phone to hands free so I could listen to the conversation.

  A sultry woman’s voice answered. “Good afternoon, my name is Heather. Can I help you?”

  “Hello, Ma’am,” Carter replied in a slightly lower voice than normal. “I just came across your website and it looks intriguing. I’m interested in booking a date with one of your Hollywood girls.”

  Heather said, “Yes, sir. I’d be happy to help you with that. Do you have someone in mind?”

  “The girl I’m interested in is Rita Hayworth. When is she available?”

  A slight pause and the woman said, “Tomorrow at four-o’clock is the next available time? Does that work for you, sir?”

  “That’s perfect.”

  “And how much time would you like to reserve with Ms. Hayworth? There’s a two hour minimum.”

  “That should be plenty of time,” Carter said.

  “Great. Now all we need is a name and a credit card number to reserve your time slot.”

  “My name is Vick Calloway and here’s my Visa number.” As he rattled off the number, all I could picture in my mind was Carter and Rita together walking up to the hotel suite hand in hand. I’ll admit, it made my stomach contract. If anyone was going to spend a few hours alone with him in a room, it should be me.

  “Okay, sir,” The woman said. “You are all set for tomorrow. Where shall Ms. Hayworth meet you?”

  “I’ll be waiting in the cocktail lounge of the Four Seasons Hotel tomorrow at four. I’m sure I won’t miss her when she arrives.”

  When the call ended, Carter returned his cell phone to his back pocket. The impish smile vanished when he saw the look on my face. “You don’t seem happy about this idea.”

  “It’s a brilliant idea,” I said, trying to shake off the lingering pricks of jealousy. “But it’s risky, don’t you think?”

  “Worst case scenario, she gets paid to not have sex with a customer. Sounds like a win-win situation to me.”

  “And what motivation would she have to tell us the truth about her intentions with Wayne?”

  “I could always threaten to report her illegal activities to the authorities. But unless we had sex, I doubt I could hold anything over her in that regard.”

  I glared at him. “What does that mean?”

  He laughed, obviously getting a kick out of my insecurity. “Nothing. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Of course, I knew better. Carter was not the type of guy to sleep with a call girl. In the two years I’ve known him, I don’t think he’s been with anyone. I liked to think he was waiting for me. I decided to change the subject. “What are we gonna do until tomorrow?”

  “Well, I’d like to talk to Chris Allen, Wayne’s co-worker who invited him to the event.”

  “Wayne already talked to him, remember?”

  Carter gave me one of his looks. “Last night I did a little digging and found out that Chris Allen isn’t an engineer like Wayne. In fact, he probably has the lowest paying position in the entire company.”

  “What does he do?”

  “He’s a janitor,” Carter said. “The guy probably makes minimum wage. Wayne has to pull in at least a quarter of a million annually. Doesn’t it strike you as a bit odd that the two are friends?”

  “What are you saying? You think Chris set Wayne up?”

  “I have his home address,” he said. “It’s Sunday Let’s go see if he’s home.”

  Chapter 5

  The GPS led us to a single level apartment building on the edge of town. Looked like an old Motel 8 that had been converted. Chris Allen and his wife lived in number 12, the very last unit on the left. Carter pulled into the parking lot and found an empty space. In fact, there were many empty spaces. The only two cars in the lot were an old VW Beetle and a black Nissan with a flat tire.

  “Any idea what kind of car Chris drives?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  We exited the car and made our way across the parking lot and knocked on the door of unit 12. Except for the dull roar of traffic on the nearby highway, everything seemed eerily quiet as we waited. Carter knocked again, this time louder.

  When the door finally opened
a man in his late twenties, wearing jeans and no shirt, regarded us with a raised eyebrow. “Hey. Can I help you guys with something?”

  “I hope so,” Carter replied. “Are you Chris Allen, Wayne’s friend?”

  “Wayne Miller?” he asked.

  “That’s right.”

  He peered at us. “Who are you guys?”

  After Carter introduced us as private investigators, Chris seemed intrigued. “Is this about last Thursday night and that woman he met?”

  “That’s right,” Carter said. “Mind if we come in and ask you a few questions about that night?”

  Chris glanced back at the room and frowned. “Sorry it’s a mess in here. I wasn’t expecting company.”

  Carter made a vague hand gesture. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Chris reluctantly opened the door and stood to the side to let us enter. “My wife and I are only staying here temporarily until we can move in with her parents. They’re building an addition and it won’t be ready for another month or so. We had to leave our last apartment because the rent went up.” He made an effort to tidy up then offered us a seat at a small round table by the kitchenette.

  “Look,” he said with a shrug. “I already told Wayne, I don’t have a clue who that woman was. I mean, she was pretty hot. That much I know. But she didn’t talk to me. She only had eyes for Wayne. I’ll admit, I was a little curious about it.” Chris talked fast in clipped sentences and, if it wasn’t for his calm features, I would have thought he was nervous. I could see why he and Wayne were friends because, although Chris was a janitor, he seemed much more intelligent for that menial position.

  “Chris, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you come by those tickets for A Flight of Fantasy?” Carter asked.

  “My wife’s manager at work gave them to her. He was supposed to go with his wife but their kid got sick. So he gave them to my wife. She would have gone with me, but she’s pregnant with our first child.”