Thrilled To Death (16 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Apodaca

BOOK: Thrilled To Death
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Well, hell, that was reassuring.
“Sam,” Cal interrupted from the doorway, “Bo's here and says he has to see you right away.”
I forced myself to turn from Gabe. I had to focus. “Thanks, Cal.” I went out to the reception area.
Bo was crawling on the floor in the reception area with the plug from Gabe's laptop in his hand. The laptop itself was on a small card table that I'd bet Cal set up for Lola.
“I'm sure there's a plug somewhere,” Bo said.
“Bo, get up,” I sighed. I would have yelled at Lola, but she was busy opening up the laptop. Honest to God, she was used to men crawling around floors to help her. She wasn't even trying. I wondered where Blaine had stormed off to. I owed him for bringing Lola on as a client in the first place. I didn't want him to ever hear that we'd kind of hired her. I was going to talk to Lola about that as soon as I finished with Bo.
“Just a second, Sam. I need to plug this in for Lola,” Bo said.
How long had Bo been here? Maybe five minutes, and he was now good friends with Lola? I needed a couple Tylenol. And a drink.
Gabe walked out with his brother and came over to me. “I'm going to the campground. You be careful.” He glanced at Bo. Then he kissed me and left. But I saw him look at Bo scuttling around on the floor and smirk.
Men.
I was done being nice. “Bo!”
“Found it.” Bo got up and brushed off his hands, beaming at Lola.
“Thanks, Bo,” Lola said, and pressed the power button to boot up the computer.
I went up and tapped Bo on the shoulder.
He turned. “Hi Sam.” He leaned down and kissed me. His face dropped all the charm and went grim. “Barney called me early this morning and told me about Shane and that the police want to talk to me.” His serious look turned angry. “What happened to your face?”
Bo had shaken off the Lola haze. “Shane didn't like me ordering him off our property much.” I explained about the argument with Grandpa and Shane smacking me. Bo already knew from Grandpa that Shane had found a fake thumb.
Bo nodded, a slight flush staining his cheeks. “That was me. I did try to break into Shane's trailer. I was desperate, Sam. My agent said that if Shane spoiled my show this weekend, there was a chance it would blow the Magic Bo cartoon deal.” He glanced at Lola, who was busy at the computer. Then he looked at me. “I didn't kill him. I can prove it. I left Elsinore by noon and have a debit card receipt from Orange County around the actual time of the murder.” He reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. Once he opened it up, he fished out a receipt and handed it to me.
I studied the receipt. It was for gas at an off-ramp off the 91 Freeway at least forty miles from Elsinore. That did seem to clear Bo. I tried not to think about how Gabe and I broke into his room. “I'm sorry, Bo. We had to tell the detective everything.”
He shook his head, then reached out and took my hand. “It's not your fault, it's Shane Masters's. The surprise is that someone didn't kill him sooner.” He gently touched my cheek with his finger. “I might have killed him for this.”
I was getting used to the overreaction of men. “Grandpa and I handled it. But I'm sorry for the trouble this might cause you.”
“Barney's a good friend of mine, Sam. I came here in part to see if Shane was going to expose my show. But the other reason was that I wanted to give Barney moral support. And I'm going to stay here through the week. I'll be around once I clear this up with the police.”
“Thank you, Bo. Do you want me to go with you to the police station?”
He shook his head. “No. I just wanted to check in and make sure you are okay before I talk to the police. Then I'm going to grab a shower and a couple hours sleep. I went to a party last night and met a woman. . . .” He shrugged with male smugness.
“And yet here you are flirting with Lola,” I scolded him.
He laughed. “Darlin', I didn't get married. Just met her and had a good time. I'm going to head over to the police station now. I'll call you or Barney after I get some sleep.”
I watched him walk out, then turned to help Lola search through the CD Nikki gave us.
Blaine came through the interview room, presumably from the storage area in the back of Heart Mates carrying some old sheets. He stopped and stared at Lola.
Then he looked up at me and said, “She's in the way. Get her out of here.”
I was getting really sick of this. “Blaine, are you forgetting who is the boss here?” He stopped beside me and looked down. His brown eyes were ringed with dark half moons and topped by heavy lids. His face was tight with faint white lines around his mouth. He had been working damn hard, and I felt bad about my snotty remark.
Blaine said, “Have you forgotten we are painting this reception area once the offices are done?”
I winced and put my hand on my assistant's arm. “I'm sorry. Listen, we'll go to my house and work there, okay? You can call me on my cell if you need anything.”
His arm stiffened under my hand. “Keep her away from me, that's all I need.” He walked across the reception area to Gabe's side.
I turned. “Let's pack up and go to my house.”
She was already closing up the computer. “He's never going to forgive me.”
I wasn't so sure about that.
 
“Where's Fletch?” I asked Grandpa when Lola and I walked into the house.
The microwave dinged, and Grandpa headed into the kitchen while saying, “He left. He has an appointment with some guy to try wakeboarding.”
I shook my head and dumped my purse and the laptop on the kitchen table. “Stubborn, isn't he?” Then I turned to Lola. “Want some coffee? Or water? Or a soda?”
“Do you have diet?”
I went to the fridge and pulled out two Diet Cokes.
Lola found a way to plug in Gabe's laptop all by herself and was booting it up. I set a Diet Coke in front of her and took a seat.
Grandpa went to his computer carrying his warmed-up coffee. His shoulders were hunched, and the stray gray hairs that clung to his balding head were ruffled. “Did you eat breakfast, Grandpa?”
He looked up with surprise in his blue gaze. “Yes, I did. And I fed Ali. I've been real good today.”
At least he had his sense of humor. I opened my can of Diet Coke and caught him up on my chat with Nikki while Lola stuck the CD into Gabe's computer and started going through the files.
“Pregnant,” Grandpa said in a sad voice.
He was thinking of my mother, of his own regrets. “She'll be okay. Rosy is there for her. And Nikki's a strong gal.”
Grandpa sighed. “Sam, after you left, when we couldn't find anything on Bo, Fletch and I looked into Nikki.”
I set my can down on the table. “Her bank account?”
He nodded. “Two large cash withdrawals in the last few days.”
Oh Nikki,
I thought helplessly.
15
L
ola looked up. “Sam, these files are a complete timeline of Shane's shows, which magician's acts Shane spoiled, and interviews with some of the magicians.”
I turned to look at Lola. She sat with her back to the sliding glass door that led to our backyard. The sunlight cascaded gently over dark, long hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. “Anything that points to a killer?”
She squinted at the screen. “Not exactly. But three of the five magicians whom Nikki interviewed said they knew ahead of time that Shane was spoiling their act.”
I sat back trying to shift my thoughts from Nikki to what Lola was telling me. “How did they know?” And how could that help us find Shane's killer? Was the magician whom Shane planned to expose the killer?
Lola scrolled through files, her face a mask of concentration. “Tickets. Either they or someone around them was sent two free tickets to the show.”
A shiver ran down my spine. Someone knew that Shane was going to expose their illusions. They had known all along. And they sent a hit man to stop him. When that didn't work, they came to Elsinore to do the job themselves.
Who was this killer? A magician that we knew?
Grandpa said, “That helps rule out Bo, right? He tried to break into Shane's prop trailer to discover if he was the victim.”
I just didn't know. “Well he seems to have an alibi for the time of Shane's murder.” Bo had already told Grandpa about it this morning.
He frowned and said, “And Nikki hired you to find out if Shane was exposing her, right?”
We all turned to look as the front door opened and Gabe walked in. He carried a cardboard box that had a few greasy stains on it.
Donuts. Cool. I think better when chocolate is involved.
“Nikki could have hired Sam to keep tabs on Shane Masters so she'd be able to find him and kill him.” Gabe slid easily into the conversation as he set the box of donuts down on the table.
Ali fussed at the back door.
Gabe let her in, said hello, then got her a treat out of the cupboard. Then he poured himself some coffee and took a seat between me and Grandpa, who was at his computer. “Two people saw a slight figure in a baseball cap and hooded sweatshirt taking a walk around 12:30
P.M.
That's all the description they could give me. It's pretty common for campers to take walks around the campground. Several people heard Shane's dogs barking furiously around that time too.”
I took that in. “Slight figure? As in a woman?”
Gabe said, “Not as big as me was as definite as I got.”
“So not Bo.” Grandpa reached past Gabe and got a plain donut.
“But it could be Nikki.” I got a chocolate buttermilk donut, then turned to Lola. “Help yourself.”
Lola stared at the box, then she shrugged and picked out a big jelly donut.
I took a bite, then asked, “Lola, any idea whose show Shane was exposing?” Now that Shane was dead, she wasn't bound by the confidentiality agreement she had signed. And she had offered her help.
She shook her head. “I only worked for Shane for a couple months. I don't know a lot about magicians, except Barney and what I learned on the magician's assistants loop. All I can tell you is that I was supposed to be assisting Shane with vanishing flowers when I would disappear instead. He was showing how he keeps the audience focused on the flowers while I slip away through a hidden door in the set.”
“Misdirection,” I sighed, thinking that a truckload of magicians vanish their assistants. “What about props? Did you see a motorcycle? Did Shane use a whip as a prop?” That was Nikki's trademark.
“Shane had a motorcycle prop I've seen before, but I never saw it for this show.” She looked around the table and said, “He had this down. He kept everyone he could in the dark. His main assistants know the entire show, I think, and his manager, although he's not in town. He was coming later. But the rest don't know anything. I'm sorry, I just don't know.”
Gabe said, “What about the assistants who do know? Where are they?”
“Two left after they were cleared by Detective Vance. I tried to get more information out of them, but they are in shock and scared after being questioned by the police. I think they are afraid the killer will come after them.” She looked up at us with her dark brown gaze. “I doubt they told the police whom Shane was exposing. And the third one, Michelle, is still here, staying at those little bungalows at the edge of the campground.”
I was amazed at how Shane could keep such a big show a secret. I also saw Lola's point. These assistants were scared. If they told the police whom Shane was exposing, and that person was the killer, he might come after them too. “We should talk to Michelle. We might be able to get her to tell us whose show Shane was spoiling. Or at least give us some clue.”
Gabe agreed. “I'm going to go to the office to check on things there. I'll call my source with the police and see what else I can find out.” He stood up, and I went with him to the door.
“Have you talked to Cal?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “We haven't had time. I'll handle it once the painting is done. It's good for him to work, Sam. It'll help him focus on his options,” he added. “Have you explained to Lola that we're not hiring her beyond her help on this case?”
“I haven't gotten around to it yet.”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Shut up, Pulizzi.”
“Babe, you are something else.” He pulled me to him for a quick kiss, then left.
I walked back into the kitchen wearing a hot blush that probably matched my tangerine shirt. “Lola, let's go see if we can find Michelle.”
She started packing up the laptop.
I turned to Grandpa. “You're coming with us, okay?”
“Because you need me to protect you two girls, not because you think I'm a defenseless old man, right Sammy?”
I smiled at him. “You bet, Grandpa. And Michelle might trust another magician more than a homicide detective.”
We drove into the campsite and could see a little of the yellow crime scene tape that still surrounded Shane's motor home. I wondered when they would move the motor home. But I guessed they had to process the scene to determine exactly how the murder happened before they moved anything.
I parked close to the little row of one-room shacks at the left edge of the campground. The cabins butted up to the parking lot for the Jack in the Box where Grandpa spent so many of his mornings drinking coffee and gossiping with his friends. Lola went to the third cabin and knocked on the door. “Michelle?” she called out. “It's me, Lola.”
Lola used a soft, reassuring voice, and it hit me then how scared all Shane's employees must be. They had been scared of him when he was alive, and now they were scared of his killer.
The door opened, and the first thing I noticed was her hair. Long and silver blond, it was stunning. It fell all the way to her waist. Beneath all that hair was a slender woman who stood a couple inches taller than me. She had very little coloring under her artfully applied make-up. Even her blue eyes were pale. She drew her eyebrows together. “Lola, what's going on?”
“This is Samantha Shaw, and her grandfather—”
Michelle nodded impatiently. “Barney Webb.” She looked at Grandpa. “I've seen your shows. You are very good.”
He nodded. “Thank you. We'd like to talk to you, Michelle. As fellow magic professionals, we are looking for some of your insight.”
She was frozen to the spot. “Into Shane's murder?”
Grandpa said, “Yes. None of us are safe until we figure this horrible mess out.”
I sometimes forgot how charming and convincing Grandpa was. Michelle actually looked relieved. “Come in. I've already told the police what I know.”
The cabin looked like a one-room shack stuffed with a bed, TV, and chair, I felt sorry for the assistants. Shane hadn't been overly concerned about his employees' comfort. Grandpa sat in the chair and Michelle sat on the bed while Lola and I stood.
“Michelle,” Grandpa began, “do you have any idea whose show Shane was spoiling?”
She looked tired. “Shane never called the magicians by name. He assigned them a number. He had a computer file that he kept locked—that file matched the number to the magician. This was magician number 111.”
I asked, “As in the one hundred and eleventh spoiler show?”
Michelle shook her head. “Shane mixed the numbers.”
Grandpa got us back on track. “Did you see a run-through of the whole program?”
She shook her head again. “I could tell you the portions of the show I appeared in, but we'd only be guessing. Shane was getting progressively more paranoid, especially with MTV in on this. What you need to do is crack his computer program and find out who he sent the free tickets to.”
I wondered if she did know and was afraid to tell us. I looked toward the door that faced the campground and asked, “The computer was in Shane's motor home?” Would the computer still be in there? Or had the police removed it from the motor home?
She shook her head. “I'm pretty sure it was at his office trailer on the location. It's a laptop. Shane sometimes brought it back to the motor home with him. But he usually left it in his locked office trailer during the day. Besides,” now Michelle looked in the direction of the motor home, as if she could see through the wall, “he only came home during the day to check his dogs if he didn't have them with him.”
I thought about that while Grandpa tried to see what more he could get out of Michelle. Then we left.
“She's scared,” Grandpa said as the three of us huddled by his Jeep. “I think she knows who the magician is, but she's afraid.”
“Murder has a way of scaring people,” I agreed.
Lola looked back at the little bungalow. “Maybe I should try talking to her by myself.”
I could see how hard Lola was working to be useful. “That's a good idea, but let's leave her alone for a bit to settle down. Then you can talk to her as two women in the same boat since you were both Shane's employees.”
Lola nodded. “So now what?”
“I'm betting that if Michelle told Vance the same thing, he's at the stadium right now trying to crack that computer.” I looked at Grandpa. “Vance would be easier to convince than we are that Michelle didn't know whose show Shane was spoiling. He doesn't know much about magic.”
Grandpa frowned. “But won't he get a fancy computer tech to try to get into Shane's computer?”
I thought about that. “Eventually. But how long would it take to get a tech? Budget cuts make everything hard on the cops. And Vance really needs to crack this case. I think he'll try himself first. And we are going to offer to help him since we happen to have a computer tech on hand, one who is also an expert in magic and magicians.”
Grandpa grinned and laced his hands together, then turned them out to flex his fingers. “I am good, both at magic and computers. I could crack Shane's firewalls.”
Lola perked up. “Tell you what, I'll drive and you call Vance. Barney can navigate.” She took the keys from my hand.
Which meant I got to squeeze my buns into the backseat. I dialed Vance's number while Lola started the car. By the time she navigated out of the campground, I had Vance's voice mail. “Vance, it's Sam. I think we might be able to help you out. We need to see Shane's computer though. Call me.”
“Turn right,” Grandpa told Lola.
“Where are we going?” I asked. My cell phone rang before anyone could answer. “That was fast,” I said, then looked at the screen. “It's Gabe.” I put the phone to my ear. “Hi, what's up?”
“Sam, they've identified the hit man.”
My breath caught in my throat. “Who is he?”
“Pete Olsen. From Las Vegas.”
I went cold and looked at Grandpa. He was turned in his seat and watched me as I asked Gabe, “Anything else?”
“He's a two-bit thug and card shark who's been banned from a couple casinos.”
Just the kind of dumb-ass criminal to try and hire himself out as a hit man,
I thought to myself. “I'm going back to talk to Nikki.”
“I'll meet you there,” Gabe said. “I'm in my truck. I don't want you going in there alone. If Nikki's the killer, she's going to feel cornered.”
I shoved down the automatic denial that tried to get out of my mouth. Gabe was being reasonably cautious. “All right.” I hung up and said, “Make a left at this light, Lola.” That would put us on Lake Street, then we could make another left on Machado.

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