“Danny, this might be important.” Regan called her new friend at the police station and asked him to run the plate.
“Sure. I’ll call you back with that.”
A few minutes later the phone rang again. The sergeant told Regan that the car was registered to the Parker Organization.
Regan’s eyes widened. “The Parker Organization? Would that be Roscoe Parker’s organization?”
“It would. He owns a number of small businesses around the city.”
“Would he own the 7’s Heaven Hotel by any chance?”
“I believe he does. I think he owns the 7’s Hotel and the Fuzzy Dice. That’s where you are, right?”
“Right.”
“He likes to give his businesses memorable names. Hot Air Cable. Fuzzy Dice Hotel. If something has an unusual name, Roscoe probably owns it.”
“Thanks, sergeant. You’ve been very helpful.” Regan hung up.
“Well?” Danny asked.
“He owns this hotel and the 7’s.”
Danny shrugged. “That’s not so unusual. He’s having us stay in these places because he gives himself a good rate.”
Regan smiled. “But he never told you he owned this hotel.”
“No. Maybe he was embarrassed. This isn’t exactly the Ritz.”
Regan’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID. “Now it’s my mother calling…. Hi, Mom.”
“We’re in the car with Harry and Linda and are headed to their house. Is everything all right?”
“Yes.” Regan decided she couldn’t go into detail with her mother right now.
“Well, your father found an article in the in-flight magazine about the couple who own the wedding cake balloon.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. Did you know it’s their debut flight on Friday morning?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Well, it is. I don’t like the idea of your going up in it.”
“It’s okay, Mom. We’ll be careful,” Regan promised. “Hold on a second.” She quickly told Danny about the article.
“I don’t know them,” Danny admitted.
“How did you find out about the balloon?”
“When I suggested the winning couple renew their vows in a balloon, Roscoe said he knew of a couple who had a new wedding cake balloon. He arranged for us to go up with them. I don’t even know their names.”
“Mom, what are their names?” Regan asked.
“Oh, wait till you get a load of this.” Nora laughed. “Randy Jupiter and Alice Mars Jupiter.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Well, dear, I just wanted to check in. You’re breaking up. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Okay. Bye, Mom.” Regan hung up. “That’s interesting. Both of our parents checking in and all roads lead to Roscoe.”
There was a knock at the door. Danny got up, crossed the living room, and answered it. Barney and Elsa were standing there, smiling. Elsa was clinging to a water bottle.
“Elsa feels much better now,” Barney stated.
“I feel much better.”
Regan thought she looked much better, relatively speaking. She had obviously washed her hair, and the clothes she was wearing looked as if she’d actually gotten them off a hanger.
“Well, then, let’s go. We have a lot to do at the studio and then we have to get ready for dinner at Roscoe’s tonight,” Danny reminded them.
“I can’t wait.” Elsa giggled.
Me, either, Regan thought.
52
E rene sat at her desk, feeling paralyzed. How could she have made such a stupid mistake? Even though her office with its majestic view of the mountains was climate controlled, Erene was sweating under her khaki-colored linen business suit. Her heart was beating rapidly, and her mind was racing. She felt things were out of her control, a feeling that she detested.
How had she gotten into this mess? Working for Roscoe doesn’t suit my personality, she tried to convince herself. Las Vegas does not suit my personality. Leo does not suit my personality. There’s nothing I can do, she thought with despair. Nothing. Well, maybe something. I can update my resume. Erene opened her personal file on the computer.
She sighed deeply and assessed her situation. I need to be in a place where people value forms and surveys and conduct their affairs in a businesslike manner. A place where research is taken seriously. I don’t want to be criticized for quoting surveys.
Erene looked around her office and realized there was a lot she liked about working for Roscoe. I like my corner office with the beige carpeting and southwestern art and soothing sand-colored furniture. I like the private plane and flexible hours and dinners at the mansion. I don’t want to leave. But Roscoe’s going to have a fit when he finds out I messed up. It wouldn’t do any good to tell him now. Who knows? she pondered. Maybe in some crazy way things will work out for the best.
“Am I interrupting you?” Leo sauntered into her office without waiting for an answer. His Hawaiian shirt looked so cheerful and his drawstring pants so casual. For the life of her, Erene couldn’t imagine going to work dressed like that. The only clothes she owned that could be considered free and easy were her pajamas.
Erene started gnawing on her finger. “Not at all. What’s up?”
“What if this whole plan falls on its face?” Leo asked her.
“What do you mean?” she asked, nearly removing the tip of her index finger.
“You know what I mean. Do you think this is all going to work out the way we hoped?”
Erene shrugged. She felt terribly alone.
“Maybe we all got too ambitious.” Leo ran his fingers through his hair. “And Roscoe is going to blame us if everything falls apart. I’m thinking of updating my resume. Have you given any thought to that?”
“Leo,” Erene began as her stomach dropped to the level of her sensible business pumps. “We committed ourselves to this venture with Roscoe. Let’s do our best to make it work. Next week we can decide whether it’s worth sticking around.”
“If he still wants us.”
“If he still wants us. Who knows?” she added lightly. “Maybe by next week we’ll be famous.”
“Let’s hope for the right reasons,” Leo posited. “I’m afraid the publicity we get won’t be very good.”
“Reporters keep calling,” Erene acknowledged, trying to sound upbeat. “They all want to interview Roscoe about this competition. He certainly has the local media interested.”
“But he doesn’t want to talk to any reporters whatsoever until Friday when he makes his announcement.”
“A newspaper guy even called my house late last night,” Erene complained.
“That’s annoying. Why didn’t you screen the call?”
“I was on the phone with my best friend. The call waiting beeped, and I figured it had to be Roscoe, so I answered it.” She laughed lightly. “I got rid of him fast.”
“That’s good. Because by Friday night, press will be swarming this place.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Erene admitted quietly.
53
T uesday was quite a day for the dueling shows.
Roscoe had insisted that the Take Me Higher writers give juicy parts to “these nice young folks.” The cast had taken several breaks while Noel and Neil, with the help of Bubbles, worked to fit two more people into the script. Grandma, her boyfriend Hal, James, and Pilot Pete spent most of the day sitting outside in lawn chairs sipping iced tea. Pete kept checking his messages in Los Angeles, praying there were new auditions on the horizon. The rest of the time the costume designer had the cast trying on various outfits, including the heavy eighteenth-century clothing they’d wear for the opening scene in the farmer’s field.
Kimberly and Jake, still in their wedding clothes, roamed the grounds of the Balloon Channel complex with great interest. They quickly learned that many of the buildings were off limits.
“You’re not allowed near there,” James war
ned as they headed toward the Love Above Sea Level building. “That’s enemy territory.”
“You call it enemy territory?” Kimberly asked with surprise.
“That’s what it is,” Pete said. “It’s them against us.”
“Do you know much about their show?” Jake asked.
“Reality TV,” James sniffed. “Something about couples renewing their wedding vows.”
“Wow!” Jake cried. “Maybe we could be on that show, too!”
“We could renew our vows, like, within a couple of days of getting married,” Kimberly giggled. “How cool is that?” She and Jake gave each other a little kiss.
Pilot Pete and James stared at them.
“Just kidding,” Kimberly assured them. “We’re actors. We know firsthand how unhappy actors are about all these reality shows. We don’t want any part of them.”
Give me a break, Pilot Pete thought. These two were so young. They had plenty more auditions in their future. If this didn’t work out, so what? They’d get in their car and drive back to Los Angeles with a good story to tell.
Meanwhile, inside the Love Above Sea Level studio, the Rorschach tests were proving disastrous from the standpoint of future harmony.
Where Suzette saw pom-poms, Bill saw scraggly bushes.
Where Chip saw an oriental rug, Vicky saw a bedspread.
Where Elsa saw a roulette wheel, Barney saw a pizza pie.
Regan had gone into a private room to call Danny’s parents to tell them about the mysterious car’s registration.
“Roscoe Parker owns the hotel?” Shep exclaimed, unable to hide his surprise.
“Roscoe owns the hotel?” Maddy echoed. She was leaning in to listen while Shep held the phone. “Sounds strange to me.”
“Yes,” Regan agreed. “He owns the hotel we’re staying at as well.”
“I’m telling you, Regan,” Shep insisted, “the way that maid handed over the box, she was being very secretive. She didn’t want anybody to see what was going on.”
Regan thought of the maid in her room, the short blond woman with the Chap Stick. “What did the maid look like?”
“She had on a maid’s uniform. I think it was gray.”
“Uh-huh,” Regan murmured, hoping for more information.
“I think she was stocky with blond hair. I was kind of far away.”
Sounds like my maid Regan reflected. Could the maid have arranged for someone to come to pick up the box? she wondered. Is that what happened to Agony’s sack of mail? The maid worked for Roscoe Parker. Regan thought of something else. The camera and the sack of mail were both stolen on the premises of establishments owned by Roscoe.
“Regan,” Maddy cried excitedly. “This maid is probably guilty, huh?”
“I didn’t say that, Maddy. And, anyway, guilty of what?”
“But you asked what she looked like.”
“That’s because I was thinking of the maid in my room today. She was stocky with blond hair, although she’s definitely not a natural blond. It’s silly, but she was using a Cherry Chap Stick, and there was a Cherry Chap Stick on the floor of your room when the security guard and I took a peek in there last night.”
“That Chap Stick wasn’t there when we checked in!” Maddy declared. “I know it wasn’t. Whoever took the sack of Agony’s mail was using that Cherry Chap Stick!”
“Are you sure the Chap Stick wasn’t there when you first got there?” Regan asked.
“Positive. I’ve stayed in a lot of hotels, and I always inspect the room the minute I walk in to make sure it’s good and clean. Ever since the time I accidentally stepped on a pile of someone’s toenail clippings next to the bed. It was gross, let me tell you. I was in my bare feet. After that happened, I became a little phobic about the whole thing. I would have noticed that Chap Stick!”
Thank you for sharing, Regan thought.
Shep grunted. He’d heard that toenail story at least a thousand times. “Maddy, please,” was all he could say.
“I just wanted Regan to know why I’m so sure the Chap Stick wasn’t there when we arrived.”
“I believe you,” Regan assured Maddy. She could just picture Maddy on a witness stand telling this tale.
“We’ll keep our eyes open,” Maddy declared emphatically. “We’ll call you if anything else seems suspicious.”
“Please do.” Regan hung up the phone and reflected on the fishy goings-on. What did it all mean? A cot in a couple’s room, a mysterious Cherry Chap Stick, a maid making a drop-off, and a missing sack of mail. Not to mention the stolen camera and the threatening letter.
Regan sighed and went back into the studio where a mini-kitchen was set up. The smell of sautéing onions filled the air. Heartburn was teaching the couples how to make his famous chili.
“A couple that cooks together usually eats together,” he proclaimed.
One would think, Regan mused.
“And a couple that eats together has the opportunity to communicate,” Heartburn continued as he sprinkled spices into the sizzling pan, looking very relaxed. He was clearly in his element. Much more so than when he was trying to give advice, Regan noticed. What a surprise.
“Sometimes Barney likes to watch the telly when we eat dinner. Is that okay?” Elsa asked.
The telly? Regan wondered. She’s still a little tipsy.
“As long as it’s a program you both enjoy, that’s fine. Now after you sauté the onions, you brown the meat….”
Regan looked at her watch impatiently and realized they had a few more hours before the whistle blew and they could go back to the hotel to freshen up for Roscoe’s dinner party. She couldn’t wait to talk to Roscoe Parker. Up close and personal. And, for that matter, everyone else involved in this competition.
54
“E verything looks perfect,” Kitty assured Roscoe.
“You think so, baby?”
“I do.”
They were sitting in the gazebo sipping cocktails. The yard was positively festive. Torches were ready to be lit. The large grill was waiting for the hot dogs and hamburgers to be tossed over the coals. Tables were decorated with red-and-white-checked tablecloths and set with colorful dishes. A bartender was busy at his post preparing pitchers of piña coladas. A campfire had been set up on one side of the yard, surrounded by a wide circle of rocks. Roscoe planned to end the night around the campfire with everyone roasting marshmallows and enjoying a storytelling session that he planned to lead.
Roscoe sipped his single malt scotch and looked around at the grounds admiringly. He felt like the king of Las Vegas. He was dressed in his best blue jeans with a string tie and his favorite cowboy hat. The cologne he was wearing came from an expensive bottle with a picture of a cowboy and a carved silver top. Roscoe lit a Cuban cigar and took an appreciative puff. There was nothing he liked better than the feeling of power. Tonight he had tremendous power over everyone who was convening at his home. They all wanted to please him. All except that Regan Reilly.
Kitty had rested most of the morning, and read, and then primped for hours. She was now fully made up, with her long curly hair stylishly full and exotic. She was wearing a bright flowered long skirt and a white ruffled blouse. “This is my favorite time of day,” she told Roscoe.
“My favorite time of day is the crack of dawn when I can fly in my balloon.”
Crack of dawn, Kitty thought. An expression she’d come to hate.
Roscoe’s cell phone rang. “Roscoe Parker,” he answered importantly. “Erene, where are you?…Well, I’m glad to hear you’re on your way…. What’s that?…I know the press is after me. They’ll hear from me Friday night…. Nothing’s going to leak out. See you. Bye.” He snapped his phone closed. “Erene is such a worrywart.” He laughed.
Kimberly and Jake had come out of the house and were standing near the gazebo, looking around in awe and sipping piña coladas.
“Sit down with us,” Roscoe insisted. “Tell us about your rehearsal today.”
“Surrr
rre,” Jake answered as they took seats at the large round table. He looked freshly scrubbed. He had big brown eyes and laughed easily.
“Do your parents know yet that you two went and got hitched?” Roscoe asked.
Kimberly and Jake quickly looked at each other.
“No,” they answered in unison. “Not yet!” Kimberly giggled.
Roscoe pushed his cell phone toward them, then pulled the cigar out of his mouth. “Why don’t you call them right now? I’d love to hear you tell them about your wedding and your acting job. That would make me very happy.”
Kimberly made a funny face. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m a little scared to call my parents right now. We were thinking that we would tell them in person.”
“Where do they live?” Roscoe asked.
“Iowa.”
“When do you plan to tell them?”
“They’re coming out for Thanksgiving, I think.”
“So you plan to wait a while. What about you, Jake? Are you afraid to call your parents, too?”
“My dad would tell me I’m too young. And today’s my Mom’s birthday. I don’t want to ruin it for her.”
“So call and say happy birthday.”
“Oh, thanks, Roscoe, but actually they went away for my mom’s birthday.”
“Where did they go?”
“It’s a surprise. My dad wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Where do they live?”
“Baltimore.”
“Good crab cakes there. Hard to get around here.”
“Totally,” Jake agreed, quickly changing the subject. “I think Noel and Neil are really trying to write us good parts.”
“They’d better,” Roscoe exclaimed.
“Bubbles is sooooo driven,” Kimberly said, her eyes widening. “This is some competition, huh?”
Roscoe smiled. “It’s the survival of the fittest.”
“Just like the show Survivor, huh?” Jake remarked.
Roscoe took a swig of his scotch. “Something like that.”
55
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