Kathryn was off her stool and ambling around the minute she saw Nikki move toward the exit, where a large group of men were standing as they eyed the casino floor. Her eyes behind her tinted glasses popped when she saw Isabelle wind up like she was going to throw a fastball and sock the guy standing near her smack in the nose. "Shit!" Kathryn muttered. She moved then, as fast as the heavy, ugly-ass shoes covering her feet would allow.
Alexis rounded a corner, took in what was happening to Isabelle, and started to beat on Franklin. She then grabbed Isabelle and dragged her toward the exit as she stroked her back and made soothing comments.
Sensing a commotion and seeing the sudden influx of security, Annie and Myra slid off their stools and started jabbering to one another as they tried to head to the entrance. Yoko was left standing in the middle of the aisle when Harry and his group of martial-arts friends started down the aisle.
"Something's going on," Jack said, as his gaze swept the swarming groups of security personnel.
"No shit!" Harry said. He looked down the aisle and saw the little Japanese lady, who looked like she was going to faint. He squared his shoulders, looked over to his buddies, and started to babble in all eight of his languages. He reached the little lady just as two bruisers who looked like they could move mountains reached for Yoko's arms. In the blink of an eye they were flat on the ground. Harry looked down, and asked, "Are you okay, Mama San?"
The little lady looked up, and replied, "Mama San, my ass, Harry! I need to get out of here; this place is swarming with security. Do something."
Harry almost laughed. He looked at Jack and shrugged.
Jack looked at Harry and shrugged.
They had their marching orders.
One kick-ass distraction coming up. Harry signaled his friends, and the show was on. Men leaped over stools and slot machines, while others flew through the air, to the delight of the customers banging away at the slots. Whistles and bells were ringing all over the place. An entire row of slot machines toppled one by one. A fat little man could be heard screaming that he'd won the jackpot of fifty dollars on the nickel machine.
In thirteen minutes, an unlucky number in Vegas, it was all over. Harry dusted his hands and looked around at the crowd that had gathered. He, Jack, and the others bowed low and smiled.
"Just your ordinary midday entertainment, compliments of the Babylon. Good luck, everyone!" Jack shouted to be heard above the din.
The nickel-machine winner was hopping up and down in his excitement.
"I'm feeling the love for the first time," Harry said, poking Jack on the arm. "You feeling it, buddy?"
"Oh, yeah," Jack drawled. "I hope we're still feeling it when they haul our asses off to jail."
"I'd like to see them try," Harry said, laughing.
"'Mama San'! Shit, Harry, she's gonna make you pay for that one."
Harry laughed again. "Yeah, I know."
One of Harry's guys, Jun Ye Ling, looked at Harry, and asked, "You want to tell us what the hell that was all about?"
"Nah!"
Ling Jun chuckled as he strode past two Vegas cops, who were wielding their nightsticks as they tried to figure out what had happened.
Jack pulled out his cell phone and dialed Lizzie's number. When her voice came over the line, he recounted the events. "They're going to haul us off to jail any minute now, regardless of what Harry says. Call Charles, we're going to need megabail. Just for the record, Lizzie, I don't do well in jail, and Harry. . .well, Harry might reduce the place to rubble. Then there are the other guys. . .Need I say more?" After breaking the connection, Jack said, "She's on it. I think we should just go peacefully. It will give you time to reflect on that Mama San shit you were dumb enough to utter."
"Christ, how I hate you, Jack. But you know what, I'm definitely feeling the love!" He cackled in glee as a straight line of Vegas cops approached.
They all raised their hands and marched peacefully toward the exit.
Lizzie apologized to the table, then lowered her head and whispered what Jack had told her. "So, Mr. Winters, it looks like I have to ask a favor of you. Can your driver take me to the police station so I can bail out the guys?"
"Of course. I'll come with you. Isn't it up to me to press charges?" the old man asked, his eyes alight with excitement.
"Technically, yes, Homer," Cricket said. "But if they book those guys, it's going to be a lot of paperwork. You could call ahead and chop them off at the knees. Or, I should say, you call ahead and tell them it was all a big misunderstanding and to let everybody go. That way the guys won't be filing any lawsuits saying Owens's boys harassed them, and they were just defending themselves. What do you think, Elizabeth?"
Lizzie loved the way her name sounded on his lips. She smiled and nodded. As they walked out of the Rabbit Hole, she risked a quick glance to her left, where a striking blonde, who looked a little hard around the edges, was so intent on not paying attention to them that she stood out like stinkweed in a bouquet of roses.
Cricket picked up on the glance and gave a slight nod. That's good, Lizzie thought, we're on the same page. Cricket did make her feel. . .funny all over. Maybe she was just coming down with the flu.
Even at noon, the cars were bumper to bumper. Everyone in the limo was on their cell phones, and Ted was on his BlackBerry. Maggie was just going to love all this cloak-and-dagger stuff. Hell, he was loving it himself.
Ted inclined his head to the left, the better to hear the conversation between Homer Winters and Lizzie. He typed faster.
Winters is going to sell the Babylon. He's had enough of Vegas. He's going to look for a buyer. Lizzie says she knows someone who might be interested. Annie? That guy Fish? Maybe partners? Gotta go, babe. You taking good care of Minnie and Mickey?
Back at The Party Store van, Kathryn shifted gears and pulled out onto Las Vegas Boulevard. "Will someone tell me what the hell happened back there?" She blew her horn, yanked at the steering wheel, and skirted around a MINI Cooper full of lookie-loos.
The women all started to jabber at once, with Annie yapping about seeing a pair of white rhinestone boots in one of the boutiques. "I could see them clear as crystal from where I was sitting. I have to get those. I really do."
"Put a lid on it, Annie," Myra said as she yanked and pulled at the pearls around her neck.
"Who was that guy, Isabelle, and what did he say?" Nikki asked. "The minute I saw the look on your face, I knew something was up. It's a good thing we acted in sync, or we'd be on our way to the police station."
Isabelle took a deep breath. "He warned me to get out and said I should sock him in the snoot. He said his name was Stu Franklin. Maybe he thought the name would mean something to me. I never heard it before. He said he thought he knew who I was, and my friends, but the guy upstairs spying on us knew who we were for sure because we weren't wearing sweaters. He said when it was all over I should look him up in the Caymans, he'd be on the beach. He had a microphone on his sleeve—you know, the kind Secret Service guys wear. He had his thumb over it. I did say that, didn't I? He scared the living hell out of me."
"Good thing. You could be a slugger for the Padres the way you hauled off and popped him," Alexis said.
"You did okay yourself when you started beating on him. Boy, did his nose bleed a lot. There was blood all over the place. I guess I don't know my own power," Isabelle said.
"We fooled Harry. He didn't know it was me. He even called me Mama San. Sometimes I'm so good I can't stand myself." Yoko giggled. "Yes, yes, I will make him pay for referring to me as Mama San. But not too much, I think."
"Child, that man saved our. . .bacon. Did I say that right, Kathryn?" Annie asked.
Kathryn nodded, her eyes on the road and the rearview mirror.
"Where are we going?" Myra asked.
Kathryn looked over her shoulder. "The only place I can think of for the moment is the condo Rena Gold got for Lizzie and Ted. Someone needs to call them, and sooner rather than later. If we see
any other tenants, they'll just think we're a small group of seniors getting together for mahjong or something just as stupid. Tiddlywinks, maybe."
"That was really a little too close for comfort," Nikki said.
"Did any of you see Mr. Fish and his party?" Alexis asked. "They were right there when Harry and his boys arrived. I'm sure it was he, but I didn't want to stay around to make sure. Why did that guy Franklin help us?"
Isabelle felt like the question was directed to her, so she answered. "You know how we all think Lizzie is hot and smart, right? Well, Franklin was hot, and I think he's probably pretty smart. He looked sharp to me. I think he was on his way out, and we were just there at the right time to help him out. At the same time, he helped us. He doesn't want to get involved in whatever is happening, but that's just a guess on my part. I can't swear to this, but the way he said he would be in the Caymans, I had the feeling he was going to walk out the door and head for there ASAP. I could be wrong, but that was my thought at that moment. I believe we should think of it as the guy having an epiphany, and we were the beneficiaries, and let it go at that. We don't have a tail, do we?"
"No," Kathryn shot back. "So far, so good."
"I really wanted those boots," Annie grumbled. "It won't be the same if I end up buying them from some catalog. One pair of boots! I'm not leaving here until I get them."
"Annie, dear, I promise you that somehow, some way, you will get your rhinestone cowgirl boots before we leave this fair city," Myra said.
"Oh, Myra, I knew you'd understand," Annie said happily.
The rest of the trip to Rena Gold's condo was made in silence.
"Well, that was a cluster fuck if I ever saw one," Owens railed at his staff. "I hired you to take care of things. Did you do that? Read my lips, no, you did not. I'm going to dock all of you a day's pay. This shit will be out on the street in seconds. Winters is going to hear about it, and for sure there will be hell to pay. Richards, what's up with the hooker? You on top of that? What's going on at the Rabbit Hole? Where the hell is Stu? His mike went out just when that old dame socked him silly."
"The last time I saw him he was headed for the men's room, his nose was bleeding. Then things went south, and I never saw him again," Oliver said.
"He's not answering his mike or his pager. Send someone to check the parking lot. If his car's gone, we have a problem," Owens snarled.
Quintera, Richards, and Oliver stood rooted to the spot. It sounded to all of them like Hank was saying somehow Stu was responsible for the disaster on the casino floor. All three of them liked Stu.
"He might have gone home to change his clothes if he got blood all over his suit. You are pretty fussy about us looking like we stepped out of a GQ ad, Boss," Richards said in Stu's defense.
"Send a couple of guys to his condo. If they have to, tell them to pick the lock."
Quintera wasn't liking where this all was going. "Maybe the woman broke his nose, and he went to a doctor or the hospital. There was a lot of blood, Boss."
"Then have someone check it out. Do you guys ever make a decision on your own? Do any of you have a clue what's going on?"
"He's one of us, Boss. It don't seem right checking on him like this. And you know what else, Hank, I'm getting a little tired of you constantly telling us how dumb we are. Without us, where do you think you'd be? We've covered your ass for years."
"Was one of us. And you were paid to do that. You want out, there's the door, and don't let it hit you in the ass on your way out." Owens smelled revolution in the air. He toned down his anger, and said, "If something happened to Stu, I want to know. If he took himself to the hospital, we'll send flowers. If I have to, I'll buy him a new suit. But if he sold us out and took off, we need to know now. Not later, when our dicks get caught in the wringer."
Richards looked over his shoulder to where he'd left his cell phone on the desk after he heard it ring. He felt like blessing himself at the relief he felt. Anything to get out from under Owens's mean little eyes. He barked a greeting, then listened. He took a deep breath to steel himself against what he had to tell his boss. He closed his cell phone and stuck it in his pocket.
"That was. . .the lady we put in place at the Rabbit Hole. The party sat down and were chatting about nothing, then the woman's cell phone rang and she walked to the door to take the call with her back to our. . .our person. She returned to the table, turned her back again, then whispered something to all of them. They all got up and left. That's all she knows. They had ordered food but paid for it without waiting to eat. She did her best, Boss."
Owens nodded as he stared at one of the monitors that covered a poker table where Little Fish was playing. He pursed his lips as he watched the man he hated with a passion throw down a straight flush and rake in a pile of chips. He was so angry that he was almost cross-eyed.
Quintera's cell rang. He listened. "Stu's car isn't in the lot. Myron should be at his condo in five minutes. Myron said Hattie called the hospital and both clinics. Stu didn't show up. I don't even know if Stu has a personal doctor. I never heard him say he did, but Stu was not one to talk about his personal life. He was a loner, you know that, Boss."
Owens did know that. It was one of the reasons he'd picked Stu to join his inner ring. "What about his ex-wife?"
"She moved back to Texas after the divorce, and before you can ask, I don't know if there's anyone he's seeing on a regular basis. With the hours we put in, I don't see how he could even find anyone who would be willing to put up with his work schedule."
Ten minutes later Oliver's cell rang. He listened and said, "Okay, come on back."
"What?" Owens bellowed.
"Stu's car is in his designated parking space at his condo. His bloody clothes are in the bathroom. Nothing looks out of place. His refrigerator is full of food. He's got a lot of books, lots and lots of DVDs. Today's paper was on the coffee table, still rolled up. The bed was made, the towels wet like he maybe took a shower. He's got luggage in his closet. Plenty of shoes and sneakers. No computer. The guy has a ton of clothes, so my guy couldn't tell if anything was missing. His golf clubs were by the front door. Toothbrush and shaving gear are still in the bathroom. My guy said Stu is a neat freak."
Owens could feel his stomach muscles knot up. "What about his laptop? Stu had a laptop. I know, because that's how he kept track of his investments."
"Maybe it's in his car, but the car is locked."
"Quintera, call DMV and ask them if they have any other vehicles registered to Stu." Owens knew it was going to be a dead end. Stu had simply walked away. He knew it because if he had been in Franklin's position, he would have done it the same way. He said a mental good-bye to Stu Franklin. There would be no trail to follow, that much he knew. He also knew Stu wouldn't give any of them up. Stu was like those goddamn ninjas that hit the nation's capital—he had simply disappeared into thin air. Bastard!
Chapter 21
Rena's condo, while spacious, was suddenly overcrowded as Lizzie, Ted, and all seven vigilantes moved about. Myra was on the phone with Charles, explaining what was needed to complete the mission. Nikki was talking to Jack, who was growling that she and her Sisters were out of their minds, while Yoko and Harry did a little billing and cooing, the offensive Mama San comment in the holding corral, waiting to be trotted out at another time. Annie was doing her best to track down her rhinestone cowgirl boots. Kathryn was breathless as she spoke to Bert, congratulating him on his appointment as director of the FBI. She did her best to allay his fears where she was concerned by telling him she and the girls knew exactly what they were doing.
Alexis and Isabelle were poring over diagrams on Alexis's laptop from her Red Bag. "As long as we have a rough outline of what we're planning, no one will know the difference. We can make it up as we go along. Do you agree?"
Isabelle laughed. Her thoughts were far away, in the Cayman Islands. She wondered if she'd ever get a chance to make the trip. In all probability, no. But a girl could dream, couldn't s
he?
In the kitchen, Lizzie and Ted were discussing their departure and waiting for Maggie to tell them what time wheels up would be. Ted looked down at the incoming message, and said, "Two hours and thirty minutes. Looks like we're going to miss all the fun."
"Not really. I'll dictate your story to you on the plane. Trust me, it will be the same as if you were there. I can even tell you who's going to win the exhibition. Harry will feed you the terminology when it's time to write up the match."
Ted nodded. "You're looking kind of. . .I don't know, sad, maybe. Is anything wrong, Lizzie?"
Lizzie forced a smile. "What could be wrong? My world is right side up. I just picked up a client who guaranteed my old-age security, and I met some very nice, interesting people along the way. I have no doubt Marble Rose and her mother will make peace with each other at some point in the very near future. I can brag that I actually won forty dollars in a slot machine. I don't think it gets any better than that, do you?"
Ted shrugged just as Lizzie's cell phone rang. She looked down at the caller ID, and a smile to rival the sun split her features. She turned away to take the call. Ted actually stopped tapping his BlackBerry to try to listen.
"When did that happen? Someone just delivered it? Don't you mean if it goes to trial? I think we both know that isn't going to happen. My. . .uh, people don't believe in using taxpayers' money. They prefer to take care of matters on their own. Yes, there is a lot to be said for that. The incoming director of the FBI is in town. You might want to share your newfound treasure with him to. . .avoid any future difficulties. Well, now that you ask, there is something you can do for me. . ."
Ted almost fell off his chair as he tried to hear whatever it was Lizzie wanted the person on the other end of the line to do for her, but he simply couldn't pull it off. He just knew that whatever it was, Maggie was going to go into a snit when he couldn't tell her. He listened again.
Final Justice: Sisterhood Series #5 Page 19
