The 7th Tarot Card (17 page)

“
Oh, right. Well, in the middle of my ceremony, I had the strongest urge to sit down and do some automatic writing. Are you familiar with automatic writing, Detective?” He didn’t respond so she continued, “It’s when you use a pen and paper to channel a spirit guide, or maybe some other wise being in the universe, and they write a message, using you as a conduit. Know what I mean?”

“
Sure,” he said, eyes still closed.

“
Well,” she continued, “I put my pen to the parchment, which in my opinion is a much better medium than regular paper for these kinds of things, but only two words came out. Two powerful words that screamed off the page at me, and I realized right then and there, I had no choice. I had to get to the airport and catch the first available flight out. I ran into the house, grabbed my purse and coat, jumped into my car, and headed for SeaTac as fast as I could. Of course, there was no time to change.”

“
Of course,” Caporale said.

“
Then, the universe intervened again when I got the last seat on the non-stop, and here I am. So tell me, what have you found? Where’s Mark?”

“
Before I begin,” Caporale said, leaning forward, “and I’m probably going to regret asking this, but just out of curiosity, what were the two mystical words that guided you here?”

Laini looked him straight in the eye and said,
“Vegas, Baby.”

Caporale
’s face began to contort a bit. “What? Vegas, Baby? That’s it? That’s the powerful message from the spirit world?”

Laini
said, “I know. It seems odd doesn’t it?”

Caporale opened his mouth, but nothing
came out.

“
Maybe,” I interjected, “you were channeling Frank Sinatra, or one of the other Rat Pack members. That’s how they talk you know.”

The detective
started to speak, but fortunately for us, his phone rang, and he took the call. While we waited, Julie and I filled Laini in on the horrific events of the past twelve hours.

“
Yeah, thanks, on my way.” An eager look of expectancy lit up his face as he stood up. “Sorry, ladies. As much as I’d love to sit here and exchange ghost stories with you, I gotta run. They picked up Tony at the airport trying to catch a flight to New York. He’s turned state’s evidence and singing like a canary. They’re bringing him in now, but I need to get to LaRusso. He’s hiding out at a clinic in Henderson, and according to Tony, the Doc and his brother are there too.” He threw on his sports coat as he moved quickly out of the office.

“
I’m going with you,” Laini said grabbing her coat and bag. Her cape flowed along the floor behind her as she rushed down the hallway.

“
So are we,” Julie said as we followed them out into the parking lot.

“Absolutely not,” Caporale snapped. “I’m not running a taxi service here. She can go, being the wife and all, but you two need to stay put. Go get a hotel room, gamble, buy a new hat, I don’t care, just keep out of trouble. And for crying out loud, stay away from guns. Everywhere you go, someone winds up getting shot.

“
Did anyone ever tell you that you’re a smartass?” I said to him, hands on hips, as he climbed into the car and turned the ignition. He rolled down the window and winked, “What can I say? I’m from Boston.”

“
Okay,” I relented. “Laini, call us the moment you know anything. Promise!” Laini nodded back somberly from the inside of the car.

Julie
asked, “Detective, are we free to go? I mean, is it safe?”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” he yelled as he started to pull away. ”Crystal was driving the car that pursued you. The Hulk put a bullet right between her eyes, God love her. Lenny was in the car too. He made it, but just barely. Critical condition. All of your assailants are out of commission now, so you’re free to go. But don’t leave town.” His voice trailed off as he accelerated into the darkness. I waved at Laini and said a silent prayer for Mark and his brother.

“
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do.” —Mark Twain, American author and humorist

*******

“Housekeeping,” a muffled voice called out from somewhere far away. Was it a dream? I opened one eye and for a minute forgot where I was. The red digital display on the nightstand clock said eleven A.M. Again, the distant voice announced, “Housekeeping,” followed by two muted thumps. I opened my other eye and discovered Julie, fast asleep in a pile of cream colored sheets and fluffy pillows in the queen bed next to mine, and it all came rushing back. We were in a two-bedroom penthouse suite that Amanda reserved for us at Vdara, a lavish hotel in City Center, the new urban community on The Strip. While she waited for our taxi to pick her up from the Veterinary Hospital last night, the generous ex-model decided we all needed a little luxury R and R, and called ahead to make the arrangements. Plush and spectacular, I could totally afford to stay here as long as Amanda was paying.

Fortunately,
after a thorough examination, the vet gave Carl a clean bill of health, so we came directly to the hotel, where we ordered room service then went off to sleep in Egyptian cotton designer sheets and down comforters. The added bonus of private key elevator access didn’t hurt either. That perception of extra security allowed us to finally relax and unwind from the nightmarish events of the past twenty-four hours.

As I drifted
back towards sleep, snuggled securely between the silky four-hundred thread-count sheets, I let out a contented sigh and fantasized about Bobby. Now there was a man. Solid. Dependable. Salt of the earth kind of guy. What you see is what you get. My heart melted, I remembered, when he gently took little battered Carl from Amanda, and carefully examined him. It was easy to see that even Carl trusted him, and that’s your AAA, gold standard seal of approval. Bobby owns horses and knows about creatures, great and small. I’ll bet he’s never jimmied a lock in his life. But the big question was, should I pursue this? Could I leave my home and my friends and move off to Texas, a place I’ve never even visited before?

One more knock on the door
forced me out of my reverie and I got up, wrapped myself in one of the hotel’s complimentary robes, and padded out of the bedroom and into the living room just as the front door thrust open in front of me. Startled, I jumped back and squealed. The maid, also startled, backed up, apologized profusely and left the room, carefully closing the door behind her. I spied the “Do Not Disturb” sign dangling from the door handle, and hung it on the outside of our door, then made sure it was double-locked this time.

The door to Amanda and Carl
’s room was still closed, so I picked up the room service menu and began perusing the multitude of breakfast options. After yesterday’s ordeal, the girls deserved a luxurious and downright decadent breakfast feast, I decided—my small contribution to restoring our collective mental health, such as it was. I dialed room service and quietly ordered a large pot of coffee and something from every category: eggs, bacon, pastries, strawberry covered waffles, fruit and cheese plates, and yogurt parfaits. By the time our food arrived, the troops should be stirring.

I scanned the room in appreciation.
In daylight, the thirteen-hundred square foot suite was even more impressive with its size and contemporary design. The two master bedrooms were separated by a spacious, elegant living area and it even had a fully equipped gourmet kitchen—not that anyone would be cooking.

Dazzling
rays of golden sunlight streamed in through the expansive picture window, and in the quiet serenity I strolled over and looked down onto a spectacular view of The Strip. On the fifty-sixth floor, towering above the famous boulevard, I finally felt at peace, at least for the time being. We were tucked safely away inside a magnificent fortress in the clouds. Sighing with content, I gave thanks for a new day.

The hotel magazine Amanda left lying
open on the coffee table, next to several empty liquor miniatures, looked interesting, so I picked it up and thumbed through to the beauty section. According to a famous makeup artist to the stars, applying extra mascara to the outer corners of your lashes makes eyes look bigger. I wondered if you could order mascara from room service.

“
Morning,” Julie mumbled as she staggered out of the bedroom wrapped up in her robe. Her eyes were slits. The right side of her hair was matted flat as a pancake against her face and the left side stuck up like a rooster tail. The plush robe, massive on her petite frame, dragged along the carpet behind her as she crossed the room. “For Pete’s sakes, Vic, show some mercy. Close the curtains,” the crabby little fuzz ball said, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“
Good morning to you too, merry sunshine.” I got up and pulled the sheers across the window.

Amanda
’s door opened and she stood in the doorway in her robe and oversized Jackie O sunglasses. “My head,” was all she said. Carl scampered out from behind her with Henrietta, his rubber chicken squeaky toy, clenched between his sharp little teeth.

“
Well, there’s our hero,” I said as Carl trotted over to me, his tiny tail wagging to and fro. As I pulled the little dog up onto my lap, he dropped Henrietta and licked my hands.

“
Does Carlsie need to go for a walk?” I asked.

“
He used a pee pad from his carrier, so he’s good for now,” Amanda informed us.

A loud knock at the door startled
Julie and Amanda, but I explained to them about the room service order, and asked Julie to answer it. Amanda and I bolted while she let them in. I grabbed some bills for a tip and handed them though the doorway to Julie. She took the bills and rolled her eyes.

Carl
, not the calmest of dogs, made it clear he didn’t take kindly to strangers intruding on his domain. Baring his teeth, he stood guard as two young men in stiff white jackets and black slacks wheeled in carts brimming with coffee, assorted containers emitting delectable aromas, and, last but not least, a medium-rare hamburger patty in a covered silver dish for Carl. After they left, Amanda and I came out of hiding, Carl composed himself, and we dined in style.

Halfway through our feast, Amanda
’s cell phone rang. It was Laini and Mark with some wonderful news. Last night around three A.M. Caporale and MacPherson finally got their man, and LaRusso was safely behind bars. The police found Mark and his brother tied up in a van outside the clinic in Henderson, and they’d spent the rest of the night at the police station, giving statements and answering questions. They called to tell us the happy news of the rescue, and then were going straight to bed.

“
Oh no! Oh, my gosh. Well that’s certainly not necessary, Laini,” Amanda said. “Okay, thank you so much, I’ll tell the girls. You guys just get some rest. Talk to you later. Love you.”

“
What?” Julie and I asked in unison.

“
They’re so grateful that we saved Mark’s life they want to do something special for us. They called the spa in our hotel and told them to give us whatever we wanted and put it on their tab. Massages, makeup, hair, manicures, pedicures—the works. She also told us to pick out all the makeup items we needed for our trip home.”

“
I’m not so sure we saved his life,” Julie said with a fair amount of unease in her voice. “Our interference may have put him in more danger.”

“
No,” Amanda said, “Here’s the kicker: Mark overheard Crystal and Lenny discussing how they were going to kill him and his brother after the surgery was over. They thought they were dead ducks. When we showed up, it threw a wrench into the plans and everything changed. LaRusso had to hide out at the clinic and wait for Tony to make arrangements to move the surgery to Reno. He had no idea that Tony took off for the airport and got picked up by the police. Evidently Lenny and Crystal didn’t know LaRusso’s location, so he felt secure staying in his hiding place until Tony returned.”

“
So,” Julie began, “Tony and LaRusso are in custody, Crystal is dead, and Lenny’s in the hospital in critical condition. That only means one thing.”

“
What’s that?” I asked, finishing off the last of a sinfully rich cheese Danish.

“
It’s cowboy time! We’re going to get dolled up and go out on the town tonight with Bobby and Dakota. Woohoo! But what’ll we wear?” she asked, suddenly alarmed. “I am
not
wearing my camo again.”

“
The hotel magazine says there’re shops in the hotel,” I blurted, thrilled at the prospect of seeing Bobby for a second time. “We can grab some things after we have our hair and makeup done.”

Julie
sprang up, eyes shining as she bolted across the room.

“
Where are you going?” Amanda yelled after her.

“
Lots to do.” Her voice fluttered with nervous exhilaration. “I need to call the airlines and move our flight to tomorrow, then call the salon, then call Dakota, then . . . I’ve got his number around here somewhere. BRB.”

“
BRB?” Amanda asked as Julie disappeared into the bedroom.

“
Stands for Be Right Back. You know, texting lingo.”

“
Since when has Julie started using texting lingo?”

I didn
’t reply since I figured that was a rhetorical question. After a few moments we heard Julie talking on the phone.

“
Have you ever heard her flirt like that before, Vic?” Amanda asked in awe. “I didn’t know she was capable of it.”

“
It’s a first for me too. That bull rider must be some terrific kisser.”

Moments later Julie
darted into the room and scowled. “We’re burning daylight here, ladies.”

Amanda and
I exchanged grins then got up from the table to prepare for our day of beauty.

~

Standing in front of the floor-length mirror in our bedroom, I checked out my reflection with approval. Uncharacteristically, I was ready before both Amanda and Julie. I guess this date with Bobby thing was more important to me than I wanted to admit. The salon did an amazing job on my hair and makeup and I felt like a movie star. On our way back to the room after our glorious pampering, we stopped at some shops and I found a perfect LBD “little black dress.” It was also LBD “little bit daring” a little too short and fit like a glove. Oh well, it’s Vegas, right? I’ll be okay if I just don’t inhale. The shop clerk convinced me that the silver clutch and matching stiletto heels I wore were an absolute necessity with this dress, and I had to agree. Chandelier rhinestone earrings added the crowning bling. There are times in life when you just need to splurge, right? It’s good for the soul. Meanwhile, I taped my toes with extra care and prayed that the pain would subside after a couple of martinis.

Since
Julie was still in the bathroom, and Amanda was in her room, shouting through the doorway about not wanting to stay out too late, I took a seat in the living room. Impatiently tapping my freshly manicured fingernails on an end table, I waited. Before long Amanda appeared, looking stunning in a low cut, white silk pantsuit and emerald green beaded bag. Walking proudly and carrying his head high, Carl followed her through the door wearing a matching tuxedo jacket. I can’t believe she found a dog tuxedo in the hotel, but again, this was Vegas. They went into the kitchen where Amanda filled a bowl with a bottle of doggie champagne from the refrigerator. Carl eagerly lapped it up, wagging his tail in pure contentment. Then Amanda joined me on the couch and we waited for Julie.

“
Amanda, I know you’re not thinking of bringing Carl out for cocktails and dancing tonight,” I said. Carl cocked his head sideways and scrutinized us.

“
Well heavens no. I just didn’t want him to feel left out. Anyway, his dog sitter will be here any moment and we want to make a good impression. Right, Carlsie?” Carl barked once in agreement from the kitchen. “What’s holding up Julie? The guys are probably waiting in the lobby by now.”

“
That’s a good question,” I said. “I’ll go check.” Removing my shoes so I could walk without hobbling, I headed for the bedroom. Carl, being Carl, scampered out of the kitchen and followed me, curious to investigate the situation.

“
Julie,” I bellowed as I entered the room. “Let’s get a move on, sister! We’re gonna be late, and I know you don’t want to keep that good-looking Dakota waiting.”

Slowly, t
he bathroom door creaked open and out stepped Julie still wearing her robe. She shuffled over to the bed like a tired, old washer woman, sat down despondently and heaved a sigh. An overstuffed bolster pillow fell off the bed and landed on the floor with a plop. She ignored it.

I stared at her in astonishment, waiting for an explanation.

“You guys go ahead without me,” she finally managed. “I don’t feel like going.” Her voice was soft, weak, detached.

“
What!?” I said, stunned. “You’ve been talking about nothing else all day long. What’s wrong with you? It’s not your hair and makeup. You look beautiful. Are you sick?”