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Runaway Mistress

Page 22

by Carr, Robyn


  “I think we know where we are,” Dobbs said. “I asked him to turn over this woman if he found her and he said he would. Now he’s found her and he’s hiding her.”

  “For God’s sake,” Alex said. “I don’t think you have your facts quite right.”

  Dobbs leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Do you or do you not know where Jennifer Chaise is?”

  “I do. I don’t know her as Jennifer Chaise, however. She hasn’t told me her real name.”

  “And didn’t you promise to bring her to me if you found her?”

  “I did not.”

  Dobbs sat back in his chair, stunned. “All right, this is bullshit. I want this guy turned over to your Internal Affairs Bureau. He’s a liar and a—”

  “Boss, Aiken was there during this interview. She’s right in the briefing room.”

  “Call her.”

  Alex used his Nextel radio to send a twittering noise to Paula. “Aiken? Come to the spanking room.” Monroe frowned and Alex grinned. The detectives all used cubicles and the sergeant was the only one with an office and a door that closed. If you were called to the office, chances were even you were going to be reprimanded for something—thus it was referred to as the spanking room. He hoped it appeared obvious to all present that he wasn’t concerned about this issue. It was only a few moments until she opened the door.

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “Aiken, were you present during a discussion between Alex and Agent Dobbs?”

  “Yes, sir. At the Starbucks on Charleston. I don’t remember the exact day, but I could go look it—”

  “We don’t care about the day!” Dobbs snapped. “Did you hear this guy tell me that if he found Jennifer Chaise, he’d turn her over to me?”

  “God, no,” she said with a laugh, as though Dobbs couldn’t possibly be more absurd.

  “Aw, Jesus Christ—these two have their story cooked!”

  Alex looked up at Paula from his chair, made a face and shrugged in helplessness.

  Sergeant Monroe folded his hands on his desktop. “Maybe if you’d let me ask the questions, we can find out what’s going on. Aiken, tell me what went on between these two at that meeting.”

  “Sure,” she said, leaning a hand on the back of Alex’s chair. “Agent Dobbs told us, on the downlow I presume, that they’d been watching a guy by the name of Noble. A Nick Noble.” To Dobbs’s nod, she went on. “They suspect him of multiple federal crimes and therefore would like to talk to his ex-girlfriend, who has been missing. Alex asked him if he needed help finding her and he said no. In fact, he yelled no. Dobbs asked if we knew where she was and I can’t remember Alex’s exact words, but I think it was something like, ‘Why didn’t you just ask me this on the phone?’”

  “Why didn’t you just tell Agent Dobbs where the girl was?” Monroe asked Alex.

  “Couple of reasons. One, she isn’t wanted. There’s no warrant for her arrest. Two, she’s been keeping a low profile because she has this idea her ex-boyfriend could be dangerous. Could want to hurt her. From what she told me about him, that seems a pretty safe bet. Three, she says she knows absolutely nothing about any of Noble’s businesses. And four—I’ve been dating her.”

  “You’re involved with her?” Dobbs shouted.

  “Yes. By the way, I gave her your number and she plans to call you, to see what it is you want. But she’s house-sitting for my eighty-year-old neighbor, taking care of her dog while she’s away, and the dog had emergency surgery. Plus, like I said, she can’t think of a single thing—”

  “I’m serious, I want these two turned over to IAB!” Dobbs said.

  “Take it easy, Agent Dobbs,” Paula said. “You know the law—she doesn’t even have to talk to you if she doesn’t want to. Alex could have told you exactly where to find her and she could have slammed the door in your face. Now, if you’d have had a warrant…”

  “See what I’m talking about?” Dobbs asked Monroe. He looked back at Alex. “You want a warrant? I can have a warrant in five minutes.”

  Alex leaned forward, pulled a slip of paper off the sergeant’s scratch pad and wrote on it. “Don’t bother,” he said. “Here’s the address and phone number. Go talk to her. I’m sure she’ll do her best to help you. She’s a very nice person—try not to scare her.”

  He didn’t take the slip of paper. “We already know where she is. Someone’s picking her up now.”

  “Then what’s this about?” Alex asked.

  “This is about knowing which asses to kiss, Nichols.” Dobbs stood. “You’re getting yourself mixed up with some wrong people. This chick? She’s a whore.”

  Alex flinched and looked as if he might spring to his feet, but Paula put her hand on his shoulder. While she couldn’t possibly hold him down with one small hand, it served as a reminder to keep his cool.

  “This Noble is not her first, but he might be the youngest. It’s how she makes her living, boinking old rich guys and collecting the fees. She’s not who you think she is. She lives in a condo on the beach, drives a Jag and has a big-ass bank account.”

  “She lives next door to me, which is how I met her. And she has no arrest record.”

  “Of course not. Because she’s canny. She doesn’t charge. She accepts donations. That’s still a whore in my book.”

  He opened the door to leave and said to Monroe, “Thanks for nothing.” He did not close the door softly.

  “What a fucker,” Monroe said. “Jeez.” He looked at Alex, Paula, then back to Alex. “You two. That was stupid.”

  “Not totally stupid, boss,” Paula said. “We didn’t exactly have a plan—but missing isn’t against the law. She’s an adult. She hasn’t done anything wrong. Both Alex and I had doubts about Dobbs’s character. It wasn’t just Alex—I didn’t want to turn her over to Dobbs, either. We both had the idea Dobbs might want to use her for bait to reel this Noble guy in—and if he’s dangerous, that’s not such a great thing.”

  “I did tell her, you know. I told her the FBI wanted to talk to her and she’s nervous about it, but she’s not uncooperative. And that other stuff Dobbs said about her. That’s probably bullshit. He’s a real asshole.”

  Jennifer was just getting ready for the lunch crowd when the yellow Monte Carlo pulled up to the front of the diner. Two men got out, came inside, flashed their credentials and said, “Jennifer Chaise? FBI. Will you please come with us for a conversation.”

  She looked over her shoulder to a gape-mouthed Buzz and began to remove her apron. “Buzz, please ask Rose or Hedda or anyone to check on Alice and make sure she has water and gets let out.”

  “What did they call you? What?”

  “I’ll explain later, Buzz. Please?” She pulled her house key from her pocket. “Rose has a key, but if she’s not around today and you have to see about Alice…”

  “You want me to get you a lawyer or anything?”

  “No,” she said. “I haven’t done anything wrong. Apparently I know some people who have.”

  Then she went with the men to their office in Las Vegas, where she sat for seven long hours. Some big bulldog named Dobbs yelled and hollered and threatened, but he was quickly replaced by a civil young man named Jeff, to whom she bared her soul. She told him everything he wanted to know, but she didn’t see how any of her information would in any way incriminate Nick.

  “Is Barbara really alive?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much. Spending his money like mad.”

  “Well, good. I guess. Listen, I’m very tired,” she finally said. “I have a sick old dog at home.”

  “That would be Alice?”

  She looked surprised. “You don’t have the place bugged, do you?”

  “No. We would have to think you guilty of some crime, get a judge to sign a warrant, et cetera. And frankly, we don’t know what it would get us.”

  “It won’t get you Nick Noble. I hope never to see him again.” She sighed. “Really, are you just about done?”

  “Sure,” he said, tur
ning off his tape recorder and folding his notebook closed. “If we think of anything else, can we give you a call?”

  “Why not? I don’t seem to have any secrets anymore. Oh, by the way—you wouldn’t happen to know anything about my condo? My car? My belongings?”

  “We haven’t seen any moving take place over there, but if it’s in his name, he could have sold it all by now.”

  “And my things?”

  “That’s something you’ll have to check out for yourself.”

  “By now I bet he’s pretty pissed off.”

  The man shrugged. “He seems to be a man with a temper.”

  “At least he didn’t kill his wife,” she said. “At least he’s not a murderer.”

  “We’re not looking at him for that, no.”

  It was nine o’clock before she got home, and she was exhausted to the bone. The famous Las Vegas wind was whipping through the trees ferociously, bending them over. As the car pulled up to the front of her house, she saw Alex sitting on the front step. The agent who drove the car asked, “Would you like me to see you in?”

  “No, thanks. That’s my next-door neighbor, waiting up for me.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Oh, absolutely.”

  It had been a long afternoon for Alex. Jennifer had never called him to tell him about the FBI, though she could have. She wasn’t a suspect, there would have been no reason to deny her the use of a phone.

  Maybe it was the tension of waiting that had worked on Alex. He was exhausted and feeling angry, but he hadn’t thought he was angry with her. Yet the moment she came into view, something rose up in him. Something he hadn’t felt in years. It might have been fierce jealousy, it might’ve been that he felt stupid for trusting her so much. Or it might have just been that even though he thought what Dobbs said about her was probably bullshit, it still ate at him.

  She came toward him with her arms out. “Oh, Alex,” she said, leaning into him. “What a day!”

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her toward the house. He opened her door and let her precede him inside. The sound of the wind whistling through the eaves and rattling the windows reminded him how old their houses were. It brought to mind a condo on the beach. A Jag.

  She went first to Alice, as she always did, stooping and kissing the top of her head. “Hey, girlfriend,” she said. But she was so kind, he found himself thinking. She had such a sweet and sensitive nature. These things didn’t add up.

  He stood just inside the closed door. “How was it?” he asked.

  She whirled around and flopped on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table. “It was very long. For the most part it was just tedious, but there was this one big guy who was horrible. Rude, insulting, horrific. They must have been watching through that mirror thing because all I had to do was say I wouldn’t talk to them if he was going to treat me so badly and he was taken out and a very nice gentleman replaced him. Someone named Jeff.”

  “You answered all their questions?”

  “Every last one. I’m not sure what it is they think Nick has done, but I don’t think I was of any use at all. Did you tell them where to find me?”

  “No,” he said. “In fact, I got my ass chewed for not giving you up.”

  “Oh, God, I was afraid of that. Was it just an ass-chewing? It wasn’t worse than that, was it?”

  “It was just a slap on the wrist.” He took a breath. “You didn’t tell me what you did for a living. Dated rich old dudes.”

  She stiffened. “I might’ve described it differently, but I guess that’s not incorrect.”

  “Why don’t you describe it for me,” he said. He heard the sarcasm in his voice and wanted to pull his words back in, soften them, scrub them up a little, but it was too late. He was pissed. He didn’t know at who or really why. Maybe because Dobbs knew something about her that he didn’t know—and he had held her and kissed her and begged to make love to her. Dobbs hadn’t.

  She sat forward on the sofa, putting her feet on the ground. “Okay, here’s how it was. When I was just a kid and my mom and grandparents had recently died, a very kind gentleman named Robert, who was as old as my grandfather, dated me. I had nothing. I had less than nothing. I had a job as a hostess in a restaurant, rented one room, had a mouth full of bad teeth, and if I was slender it was probably because most of the time I didn’t get enough to eat. I quit high school, couldn’t get a good job, and this nice, generous man wanted to help me out. I guess you could call him my sugar daddy.”

  “The first of many.” He couldn’t believe how little control he had over his tone, his choice of words. It humiliated him to be so mean, yet it seemed beyond his control. “Were you going to tell me?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, straightening her spine. “Look, I can understand you being a little put out, but I didn’t do anything wrong. After Robert moved on in a very mutual and cordial parting of the ways, the next man I dated was very much like him—he was in his sixties, very wealthy, and though married, his wife lived in France and they hadn’t seen each other in years. He was also very generous. But I want to make it clear, I never asked for anything. I always worked. Kept a full-time job. I got my GED and even took a couple of classes at the community college.”

  “How many, altogether?”

  She stood up. “Alex, what is this? I had four relationships that were sort of long term—two or three years. In between I dated quite a few men—they did not become serious. Have you seen any women in those years since your divorce?”

  “Yes,” he said resolutely. “I have even given them a trinket or two. Not, however, a Jag.”

  “Well, I admit, I was very fortunate.”

  “Fortunate? Shit! Yachts, private jets, limos?”

  She was aghast at his anger, but thought—good. Let’s get it out. Let’s put this behind us once and for all. This is the moment of truth. “Yes. All that. And diamond rings, trips all over the world, plastic surgery. One man even gave me a racehorse.”

  He nodded at her chest. “Which one gave you the tits?”

  She lifted her chin proudly. It’s not as though she’d had to be talked into them. She’d been as flat as an ironing board, and loved the idea of finally having breasts. She appreciated it as much as her new smile. “That would have been Martin.”

  The wind seemed to escalate outside and there was a clap of thunder. A summer storm was approaching.

  “Did they love being played by you?”

  “I don’t think you get it, Alex,” she said, stepping toward him. “I wasn’t playing. I was absolutely sincere. Although I was never in love with any of them, I was as devoted as I could be. I never cheated, I never threw over one man for another, I never lied.”

  “But you told them you loved them,” he accused.

  “No. That was completely unnecessary,” she scoffed. “Why are you so angry with me? Were you under the impression I was a virgin? I told you about the arrangement I had with Nick and you weren’t nearly this judgmental.”

  “I thought he was the only one.”

  “There haven’t been dozens, for God’s sake.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that there wasn’t much difference between what you did and what a high-priced whore does?”

  She took another step toward him. She wanted to scream and slap his face, but she kept control. “There is no comparison. There is, however, a very close comparison to what happens in an arranged marriage.”

  “You slept with rich old men for gifts! Big gifts, like trips to Europe and diamonds and furs.”

  “I slept with them far less often than you might think. Mostly I accompanied them. You would be amazed at how important that is to some men.”

  “Then why the hell are you flirting with me? I don’t measure up to this standard! I will probably never do better than a secondhand bike!”

  She tried being gentle and cajoling, sensing there was some jealous pain associated with this. Outside, the lightning flashes came more of
ten, as did the loud rumble of thunder. If she hadn’t been in the grip of a good fight, she might’ve run to the window to watch the rain come.

  “Look, coming out of the kind of childhood I had, it was easy for me to be seduced by these material things. And I had no complaints about my life—it’s not hard to get used to luxury. I didn’t realize until this event with Nick sent me fleeing into Boulder City how friendless I was. It’s really caused me to rethink my priorities. I wish you could know how much that bike meant. That bike meant more than a diamond ring. I had been with men who wouldn’t break a sweat buying a plane—yet not one of them ever made a sacrifice for me.”

  “They just made you rich.”

  “I’ve saved a couple of bucks. But Alex…”

  “Are you saying you’re going to reform? Play it straight now?”

  “Play it straight? Alex, I didn’t do anything wrong. I never lied to anyone, I never took anything that wasn’t freely given. I never cheated on anyone. I have nothing to reform. All I have to do is live my life true to myself. I like this life—this real life. I’m much happier here, living like this, than I was before.”

  “That’s what you say now. A year from now, when you’re tired of clipping coupons or pinching pennies, when it gets tough making the car payment or whatever, you know what to do, don’t you? You just find yourself a rich old guy with bulging pockets and—”

  “All right! That’s it!” she yelled. “This conversation is over!”

  “I think we’re just beginning!”

  “No! You’re leaving. I could call the cops! And now that my cover is blown, believe me, I won’t hesitate!”

  “You could call the who?” he asked, bending at the waist and pushing his face in hers.

  She stared at him for a moment, then turned to the phone on the kitchen counter. “Don’t bother!” he said. “I’m outta here.”

  The moment he left, Jennifer felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She looked askance at Alice, who was lying flat on her belly, snout on the floor, and she almost appeared to be covering her ears with her paws. “Whoa,” she said to the dog.

 

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