Did Pitt make the anonymous call? If he’d set up Watters for murder, then he’d have a cover story already prepared to innocently explain his collector’s presence at the office. Now he knew that Pitt’s cover story was “just a collection.”
Dale wouldn’t mention the call just yet. He wanted to see how this played out. “Did Grant have a gambling problem?”
“I’m not saying that.”
“How much did he owe you?”
“I’m sorry, Detective, that information is confidential.”
“I can get a search warrant and go through your papers if that’s what it takes.”
“Do what you have to do.”
Dale frowned. “Do you have a recent photo of Watters?”
The bookie opened up a desk drawer and took out the picture. He handed it over.
How convenient that Pitt had a current photo of Watters to give him. Dale studied it. He recognized the man in the image, but he actually recalled Calvin in his USC days. “Handsome fella.”
“We like our collectors to be intimidating. I had Calvin start developing that new, scary look when he began working for me.”
“I’m gonna keep this.”
“Sure, help yourself.”
Dale reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his business card. “Here’s my card. If you hear from Watters, let me know.”
Pitt took the card, though he didn’t seem too eager to do so. “Don’t worry, you’ll be the first one I call, Detective Dayton, sir.” He gave Dale a toothy grin.
As Dale turned to leave, the bookie stopped him.
“Detective.” Pitt extended his hand. “Here’s my business card. If you find Calvin, get my money back.”
Dale read the inscription on Pitt’s card and laughed to himself.
“Donald Pitt and Associates,” he said. “Is that the associate I just met?”
Chapter 17
He hadn’t stayed long at the apartment. Since the cops hadn’t yet been there, they would be soon.
Calvin knew he had one major vulnerability. Even though he tried to keep his relationship with Rachel a secret, people had seen them together. If Calvin’s guess was right and Pitt had set him up, then Rachel was exposed because Pitt knew of her. But Calvin didn’t think that Pitt was smart enough to organize this elaborate setup and was probably working with a partner. If that was the case, then Pitt would surely give this information to whoever was pulling the strings. They’d go after her, even torture Rachel for information. Yet she didn’t know anything. The murder had occurred more than twenty hours ago, so there’d been plenty of time for the bastard to already be on Rachel’s trail. He had to find her.
He had to watch the cops and watch his enemy, who at this point knew everything about him while Calvin knew nothing about his enemy.
He had double pursuers.
He made a quick stop at a side-street convenience store, found a phone booth and made two calls. First, he called a taxi service he’d never used before. He dialed again.
“Wanda, it’s Calvin. I need you to give Rachel a message.” He left the message with Rachel’s roommate and hung up.
He ran into the store and picked out only the necessities for the first few days. Tomorrow, he’d buy enough to last more than a month if he ended up having to stay in his workshop in a state of siege.
Outside the store, the taxicab was waiting. He exhaled when the driver showed no signs of recognition. As the vehicle pulled out, Calvin scanned for police or a tail.
As the cab wove its way through the busy Vegas streets, he continued to glance out the back window. He had the driver switch lanes the whole way.
He stopped by a clothing store: one suit, street clothes, sportswear. He dropped $3,500, but it was a necessity.
One more stop with the meter ticking.
“Wait here.”
He was thankful that the restaurant was open twenty-four hours. He slipped in the back of the almost empty waffle house. All that he wanted to do now was get Rachel safely to the workshop and keep her under constant guard.
He checked his watch. She was late. He hoped that Wanda had been able to deliver the message. As his concern began to mount, he saw Rachel outside the restaurant. He picked up the phone receiver, using it as a prop to hide from her, and turned his back to the door, watching Rachel out of the corner of his eye. He had specifically warned her not to identify him.
She stepped inside the restaurant carrying two large, overstuffed knapsacks, made her way to the back and passed by him. She turned and entered the bathroom. He looked around a moment and then followed her.
Before she could speak, he put his finger to her lips. He checked the stalls and locked the entrance. When he turned around, Rachel jumped into his arms.
“I missed you so much,” she said, smothering him with kisses.
“Easy, Rachel, I missed you too. But we don’t have time to talk here.”
“Okay.” She stepped back.
Just then there were two hard and two soft knocks. Wanda. He unhooked the door.
The waitress stuck her head inside. “All clear, Calvin. Rachel wasn’t followed.”
“Thanks.”
Calvin and Rachel slipped out the back. His taxi driver hadn’t deserted him.
They got in the back and didn’t say a word to each other. Once in the workshop, he’d tell her everything.
Calvin had the driver drop them two blocks away. “Pick me up here in an hour.” He tipped the driver twenty dollars.
He and Rachel dipped in and out of backyards and made several circles before arriving at the workshop. He dropped the bags on the concrete floor and scoped the old building.
He had Rachel shave off his long dreadlocks and shaggy facial hair. After she had removed enough with the electric razor, she used a disposable one to finish.
When the transformation was complete, he looked much as he had in college. But even with a bit of hair loss, Calvin was still too recognizable. He’d need to give the next step some thought.
“What do you think?”
Rachel ran her hand along his now-smooth scalp. “I like it,” she said, wiping off the last of the shaving cream.
“Now it’s your turn.” He helped her dye her hair black and gave her the short version of the situation now. With the hair change, Rachel looked like a different person. He missed her real looks already, but they also cut her long hair into a bob.
The cab was waiting and the driver did a double take at the new looks but said nothing.
They headed toward Cruiser’s Bar.
After stopping at a convenience store for a new tin of chew, Dale ran over his interview with Pitt. Why had the bookie given up Watters just like that? If Watters really was the bookie’s number-one employee, then why was Pitt so eager to help?
Dale had been expecting lies and deceit but had gotten the complete opposite. It had been too easy, just like Watters’ fingerprints in Grant’s office. That had him on edge.
He parked in his space at the precinct. When he stepped into the damp, air-conditioned lobby, he felt a chill. He wasn’t sure if it was from this case or the weather. He walked past the few others working after-hours and
