Between the Sheets, page 20
"I'm a mentalist," Rex corrected him. "Very different than just being mental, though I'm probably that too, to be honest." He drew his face into a bland expression, watching Salucci's reaction.
“Ha-ha, I like that. A guy who doesn't take himself too seriously. Well let's just say, pretty boy, your act the other night—with Beverly—that impressed me. I heard about it; Pete told me everything. I don't know many who'd stand up to that woman. So now I want you to do something for me."
“Why would I do that?" Rex asked.
"Because you owe me," he said flatly.
54
REX REDONDO
"How do I owe you exactly? I hardly know you." Rex used his most certain voice.
"You owe me because you are still alive, fella. You realize that, right? You and your dame have been in my way ever since Carmine took the big sleep. I could have eliminated you both. Just for being at the wrong place at the wrong time."
So that's the criteria for killing someone…inconvenience. It wasn't our fault we showed up at the HOA meeting that night and that Carmine Nelson was found dead. Before he could point out Salucci’s lack of logic, he stopped himself.
He didn't bother to explain, knowing that a big stakes poker player who was known to be a real estate mogul might not take kindly to any inconvenience. Plus there was Viv's safety to consider.
He cleared his throat. "Okay then, how can I make it even? That's what you want, right?"
Salucci looked him up and down. "My solution is simple. It's kind of a test. If you pass, you'll earn my respect. If you don't, you're done. I'll drive you out of town and maybe keep your dame for fun. Get my drift?
"Incidentally, you'll never need a therapist so long as you pass my tests. I think everyone needs to be challenged to shape their character. Much better than paying a shrink."
He got close to Rex's face to add, "So this is your challenge, pretty boy. Find Joey Baker. Turn him in to the cops. When you drop him off, make sure they know you and you alone tracked him down. He'll be arrested and that's all you need to do. Got it?"
"I have a better idea." Rex smirked. "Let the cops find Joey on their own. That's why we pay them our hard-earned tax dollars."
Salucci growled. "If the cops could, they would have by now. Susan Farrah ain't as clever as she thinks she is." He leaned away from Rex with a faraway look in his eye. "She's like her mother. Beautiful but dumb. I knew her back in the day."
Rex felt relieved. "Don't worry. I'm on it. I will find Joey Baker and drop him off at the local police station." But I do have one more question… "Why is it that you want Joey Baker stitched up for this murder? Why not just let bygones be bygones?"
Salucci's face flushed red. "I didn't say you could ask questions. But so you know, loyalty is everything to me. My grandfather and my father did not tolerate snitches like Carmine or weak men like Joey Baker. Carmine's handled already and Joey's not worth my time. He has no follow-through and he's broken a commitment, a personal one he made to me. Let's just leave it at that."
The burly man popped his head out the door. "She's here," he announced.
"Good. Time to play cards. That's what you came for, right?" Salucci waved for Rex to go first.
Rex took his seat at the round table. A quick glance told him that one chair had been removed from the table. That left one empty, which had been pulled away, waiting for someone to be seated.
The bouncer stood behind the chair back, glancing at the ceiling. The door behind Rex opened.
"Ah, the lady's arrived," Frank Salucci announced.
55
VIVIENNE ROSE
Viv was restless. Lingering by the pool, she fluffed her hair with a towel, her mind drifting. Even the stars glimmering overhead didn't shift her mood.
With Rex at the poker game, she knew she had an unfinished job of her own. To report to Beverly Nelson and give the money back before the cops arrested Joey. She was no longer concerned about the cash. Ever since Baker had threatened Rex with the revolver, she'd lost interest in helping the widow. Just too dangerous.
Viv showered and put on a comfy pair of wide-legged pants. Selecting an equally soft sweater, she pulled it over her head, disregarding her bra with a sigh of relief. She was ready for a quiet evening with Miss Kitty. Hopefully Rex would text her after the poker game.
Settled in on the sofa, she tried Beverly on her cell. No one picked up. Unwilling to leave a message, she felt even more agitated. "Miss Kitty?" Viv called. No sign of her feline friend.
Unable to cuddle with her cat and feeling anxious waiting for Rex to call, she decided to take a walk. Viv put on her athletic shoes and a light jacket. Keep moving, she reminded herself. Once outside, she took a deep breath.
Heading past Rex's house, Viv glanced over. I hope he's okay.
She kept walking. The sound of wheels rolling across pavement caught her attention. It's the young woman from the Fluff and Fold. Viv picked up her pace. Kind of late to be out walking a baby. Maybe she's in some sort of trouble. I'll strike up a conversation, tell her I'm a doula, ask if she needs any help.
The young woman wore earbuds. As Viv drew closer she heard the woman talking. "I'm coming. Stop nagging me. It'll only be twenty more minutes. Yeah, I got everything. With me, you idiot. Stop being so nervous. No one knows. You are such a jerk!"
The vehement one-sided conversation sent a chill up Viv's spine. Maybe she's a victim of domestic abuse? That might explain why she walks so often with her baby. Viv dropped back farther, her heart beating wildly.
The young woman began to jog, the stroller bumping along the pavement. By the time she turned the corner of Joshua Tree and Fairway, Viv lost sight of her.
Once she turned the corner, she pulled up short. The young woman had stopped in front of a house that Viv assumed was hers. "What do you want?"
Viv edged closer.
"I know you're following me," the young woman accused. "Is that why you came to the Fluff and Fold? This is harassment."
Viv froze in her spot, not daring to come closer. "I just wanted to ask you about the baby," she said. "I'm a doula," she added, hoping that would explain her interest.
The woman's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I see. So that explains it. Come on over and check out my baby, satisfy your curiosity."
Despite feeling apprehension, Viv knew she'd trapped herself. I can't run away now that she's offered. So she stepped up the walkway toward the house, coming closer to the stroller. The young woman lifted the baby blanket that covered the bundle.
Viv looked in and gasped.
The front door swung open right as the young woman gave her a quick shove, pushing her through the doorway. Before she could call out, a man took her by the arm. "A nosy neighbor. Just what I need," he growled.
The woman rolled the carriage inside and slammed the door shut. But not before Viv's back met the wall with a thud.
She struggled to free her arm. "Let me go or I'll call the cops!"
She didn't use his name but recognized him instantly.
Joey Baker dropped her arm. But the young woman took over, twisting one hand then the other behind Viv's back. She turned Viv around to push her nose to the wall. "You had to butt in, didn't ya? You could have left everything alone but oh no, you just had to see the baby."
"What have you done with the child?" Viv demanded.
"Don't be stupid," the woman retorted. "There never was a baby. Couldn't you tell the crying was fake?" She turned to Joey Baker. "Hold her for a minute."
Once he'd taken Viv's wrists, the young woman shoved her cell phone in Viv's face. Pushing a button, the familiar wail of a child met her ears. "It's an app, dummy."
Viv struggled against Joey's grip. "Just let me go," she said. "I won't tell anyone. I promise."
"Tell anyone what?" Joey's lips came close to her ear.
As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them. But instead of trying to lie her way out of the mistake, she stated in a clear voice, "That you're Joey Baker and that the cops are looking for you."
The young woman took Viv's hands. Tying them behind her back, she dragged her away from the wall and shoved her into a chair. "Sit there. Stop talking!"
Then the woman grasped the handle of the stroller. Reaching inside, she removed the blanket and a mattress, dropping them on the carpet.
Joey lifted a box from the carriage interior, grasping it in both hands. Then he disappeared with the box down the hall.
Obviously they'd been hiding something underneath the baby blankets and mattress. Something's been stored inside. Something they don't want me to know about.
Baker returned to the room empty-handed. Viv raised her chin, directly engaging him with a stare. He turned to his accomplice. "Did she see what's in the stroller?"
"She only got a glimpse," the woman assured him.
"I only got a glimpse," Viv repeated. "So let me go."
When they made no move to release her, Viv gulped. She wasn't sure how to get free. But then she remembered Rex. What would he do in this situation?
He'd put them off balance. He'd start asking them questions.
"So the other day, how did you get the gun, the one that killed Carmine?"
Joey Baker scowled. Clearly, he didn't like being confronted. That was obvious.
"It's my revolver. I was just keeping it in the casita locker," he sneered.
Viv almost believed his answer, if it weren't for how he shifted his eyes back and forth.
The young woman's jaw hardened. "Stop talking, you idiot."
"I'll talk when I want to," he retorted.
Viv hurtled another question. "Why did you kill Carmine anyway?"
Joey blurted, "The boss said Carmine was trying to get out of the business. He thought it was disloyal to just up and retire, leaving us hanging. So he told me that it was one of his tests, to make Carmine go away.
"I owed him," Joey exclaimed. "He'd lost his trust in me since…" He glared at Viv. "None of your business," he snapped.
"Like I said, you are an idiot," the woman jumped in. "You killed Carmine right in our own backyard."
"Hey, the boss told me to. But I did Carmine a solid. I made his death all nice. You gotta admit, I left him in a really fine bed, on one of those pricey mattresses, very expensive linens, all tidy and looking peaceful. Right between the sheets. Not a bad way to go."
For a moment Viv wondered if she was supposed to compliment Joey, tell him what a good job he'd done. He had that look of a child waiting to be affirmed. His eyes pleaded with her for, what, acceptance?
She shook her head. "If you admit you killed him, why not turn yourself in? Things would go easier that way. You could cut a deal with the cops."
"I can't do that!" Joey cried. "They'll have to find me first. There's not a cop on the force who would listen to me anyway. They have it in for me."
"And for good reason," the young woman blurted. "You burned that bridge, baby, a long time ago."
The two faced off, giving Viv a chance to consider her options. She could ask another question to keep the focus away from her. So far that had worked. They were fighting with each other. This might give her a chance to wiggle out of the tie on her wrists.
As voices rose, she yanked at the restraint. Despite the pain of the tie cutting into her skin, she kept tugging. When it didn't yield, she stretched her fingers to make her hand narrow. Pulling her thumb closer to her palm, she tugged again.
By now the couple were nose to nose. Joey continued to scream. "I can't believe this, Gina. You were supposed to protect me and look what you did. Led this woman right to our doorstep." He glanced over toward Viv. "What are we gonna do with her now?"
Viv froze. She held her wrists behind her back, hiding the hand she'd wrenched free.
"You are so stupid," Gina hissed. "Uncle D hired me to keep you busy. I thought you knew that. I wouldn't spend one extra minute with you otherwise. You are really boring, you know. Like snoozable dull. I can't wait to get out of here."
"I bought you those boots," he cried. "I'm a nice guy."
"Cheap pleather," she muttered. "And too small. Even the baby oil didn't help. I couldn't get my foot inside so I left them in the bathroom of the Fluff and Fold.
"You really think those boots worked as a peace offering? Come on. I like real stuff. Real diamonds, real leather, and real men!"
Gina shot a glance at Viv, who looked up at the ceiling. Silence filled the room. When they didn't keep fighting, she grew anxious. I need to distract them again.
She scrambled in her mind for another question. Since Joey Baker outright admitted killing Carmine, she didn't need to go there. But Joey did say that someone else—the boss—told him what to do. Who was the boss exactly?
It could be anyone. Maybe Gina's Uncle D. After all, he hired his niece to keep track of Joey. That had to mean something.
When Joey reached into his pocket, Viv flinched. He's just remembered that I'm a big liability. I'm probably next, Viv realized. I'll be the next body found between the sheets.
She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the pop of his gun.
When nothing happened, she opened one eye. Joey Baker's head had drooped to his chest. He'd let the hand with the revolver dangle by his side.
Gina snatched the gun from him. Then she swung her glance toward Viv, her eyes narrowed.
Viv sat up straight. "Does the boss tell you what to do as well?" Her question sounded desperate even to her. Just keep her talking, that's your best hope.
Gina gave her a disparaging look. Then she shrugged. "Not me. I don't answer to him. I'm just helping out my uncle. He told me that Joey needed a little supervision. So we've been hanging out, pretending to live in this old folks neighborhood. They'll move him very soon and I'll be done."
Joey muttered, "I know Mom has a plan. She always does."
"Stop it," Gina commanded. "Your mother doesn't hold a candle to the boss. Everyone knows that."
With both feet firmly planted in the carpet, Viv stood.
"You better sit back down if you know what's good for ya!" Gina pointed the revolver at her face.
Someone started pounding on the door. Viv gulped. But she remained standing.
"Open up. Police!" came a voice from outside.
"Looks like you'd better answer the door," Viv advised. She'd used her calmest doula voice to point out the obvious. But then she couldn't resist adding, "I think the jig is up."
56
REX REDONDO
Back at the poker game, all heads at the table turned toward the door. To Rex's surprise Beverly Nelson slid in, swaying her hips. To say she was a vision in pink was an understatement.
She wore a pink dress, very tight, with pink heels. A pink boa covered her shoulders, dropping to her thighs like a cloud of cotton candy. Big dangling earrings, made from feathers, brushed her shoulders. Her platinum-blonde hair, with a pink streak over her right eye, had been expertly curled to wave around her face. She smiled right at Rex.
"Hello, fellas," she said in a throaty voice.
Rex assumed that she'd made an effort to impersonate the old-time movie star Mae West. As the bodyguard held her chair, she sat down daintily. "Margarita, pink salt, double tequila," she purred.
"Right away, ma'am," the bodyguard said.
Looking over each man at the table individually, her eyes stopped on Rex. "We meet again." No longer purring, her voice held an edge. Looking away from him, she asked matter-of-factly, "Where are the cards?"
The bodyguard pulled a deck from his pocket and laid them on the table.
Beverly removed the cellophane with the flick of a manicured fingernail. Sliding the cards out from the box, she cast off the two jokers with a smirk. "Jokers are always men," she commented. And then she began to shuffle while Rex stared at her hands.
Mesmerized by the smooth action of her pink-tipped fingers, he blinked. Oh no, I'm not falling for that trick. He looked away, pausing to gather his thoughts. Being a conjurer himself, he knew that a repeated action, like pocket watches swinging and cards being shuffled, would attract anyone susceptible to being hypnotized.
Once disconnected, he returned his focus to Beverly. She made a bridge with the cards and then gently released, as each one fell into place. He exhaled, admiring her expertise. Stop it, he ordered himself. Focus on something else. He turned away again listening to the hum of the refrigerator to clear his mind.
A series of ideas pricked Rex's consciousness. She's a professional. Probably worked the blackjack table. That's where Carmine must have met her. He knew that assumption was intuition and that it may not be true. But he'd been right before.
"Caribbean stud, my deal. Here, Sammy, cut the cards," came her crisp instructions. "Cash ready, gentlemen," she directed. "Ten grand to start." Then she looked over at the woman standing behind the bar. "Chips, please."
Rex reached into his pocket for his money. Despite being searched twice, no one bothered to remove the bills.
"Here you go." Rex slapped the hundred-dollar bills on the table.
Beverly 's eyebrows rose. "Ten grand even? How did you know how much to bring?"
Somehow he knew answering her would be the most important thing he'd do that evening. Everything rested on his reply. He'd been able to convince Salucci that he wasn't a threat. He'd even gotten Salucci to include him in the search for Joey Baker.
But Beverly Nelson…she was the one he had to look out for. Somehow he'd missed that during his performance. He'd taken her for a grieving widow; okay, maybe not so much a real grieving widow, but one who was trying to play the part.
But in the midst of conjuring up his stage trick, bringing the dead man's words to life, Rex now knew that he had missed something important. The woman's confidence came from her control. She knew what she was about and she was probably smarter than any of the men at the table. Except for me, of course.
