bring you and the two other whatever-you-might-call-them?”
“Martin, I promise you, if you can get a meeting booked I’ll find a way to get me and my associates into that house without causing any fuss.”
“And assuming you get in, then what?” Francis asked. “Civil war?”
“No, sir. I will persuade them that it is in their best interest to return the money and to keep the Mohneida’s and my client’s names out of any scandal.”
“And if you don’t?” Francis said.
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained. The way I see it, the status quo isn’t tenable. If I can’t get to Douglas, my clients will lose all patience with him and The River and I’ll probably be fired… And I won’t be responsible for whatever happens after I leave.”
“You’re threatening me again,” Francis said.
“No, sir, I’m not, and I’m sorry if it sounded like that. I’m just being completely practical.”
“Are you certain you can persuade Douglas and Ashton?” Martin interjected.
“That’s my job. And I don’t fail very often.”
“Chief, I think it’s worth a try,” Martin said.
A heavy silence set in; Ava guessed they had put the phone on mute. Let them talk, she thought. The more they talk, the better my chances.
“When do you want Martin in Las Vegas?” Francis asked as the line came alive again.
“Tomorrow — I mean today. It’s already past midnight.”
“We’ll call Douglas now; I’m sure he’s still up. There isn’t any point in delaying, and besides, a late-night call might emphasize just how important I think it is that he schedule an immediate meeting with us.”
“I’d like both Ashton and Douglas at the meeting if possible.”
“I understand that.”
“You said us. Are you coming as well?” she asked.
“No, I’m an elder statesman now — my Wild East days are over. Martin can handle whatever you want done.”
She realized he hadn’t liked her reference to his smuggling days. “Chief Francis, I’m sorry if I caused offence earlier,” she said. “I just wanted you to understand how passionate I feel about my clients.”
“Ms. Lee, I think you’ve said enough. I’m going to make that phone call. If we get a meeting, Martin will be in Las Vegas tomorrow… Just make sure he gets back to me in one piece.”
(24)
After she hung up, Ava hobbled to the bathroom. The towel she had been using as an icepack was saturated and dripping all over the place. She got a fresh towel, filled it with ice from the bucket, and checked her watch. It was a bit too soon for more Tylenol, but she took two anyway.
Ava turned on her computer and logged in to her email account. Uncle’s travel agent had sent her Carlo and Andy’s complete itinerary. She scrolled through the balance of the messages, prioritizing as she did. There wasn’t much related to business; it was mainly personal missives.
Maria Gonzalez had written again and this time had attached a photo. Ava saw a beautiful young woman standing against a brick wall and staring directly into the camera, a tiny smile playing on her full lips. Her brown eyes looked happy, even teasing, and were framed by long, curly black hair. She was wearing shorts and a tank top that showed off her toned arms and full breasts. Mimi showed me some pictures of you, she wrote. I thought I would send you one of me. When do you think you’ll be returning to Toronto?
Ava knew she was going to call this girl when she got back. I don’t know when I’m coming back. Soon, I hope. I’ll be in touch, she wrote.
She sent the email and clicked back to her inbox, where she found a message from Marian. She hesitated before opening it, since complaints about their mother, her husband, or her kids were her sister’s usual content. For once, though, Ava was pleasantly surprised. Marian had written to say that she had phoned their father in Hong Kong to discuss his spring trip to Canada. It was a pre-emptive strike, she wrote. Marian had convinced him to book a two-week cruise in the eastern Caribbean — there would be no Las Vegas trip for their mother. She was very pleased with herself, and Ava was pleased for her.
Both Mimi and Derek had written several times, which wasn’t unusual. She was about to delve into their messages when her cellphone rang.
“We’re on,” Martin said. “One o’clock at Douglas’s house. He said Ashton should be there as well.”
“Thank you.”
“No, thank Chief Francis. He was the one who made the call. Douglas gave him a rough time about meeting at the house. He wanted to meet at the office, but the Chief said that with all the rumours flying around, he didn’t want to be seen on their premises.”
“I’m very grateful. Please tell him that.”
“I will… Now, I can get into Vegas today around five o’clock. Does that work?”
“Which airline?”
“Air Canada from Vancouver.”
“I’ll meet you at the airport.”
“Okay.”
“You need to rent a car.”
“Okay.”
“A big car, a fancy car. Try to get something like a Mercedes S-Class.”
“I’ll do the best I can. How about a hotel?”
“I’m staying at Hooters, but you don’t have to.”
“Hooters?”
“It’s a long story.”
“What the hell, book me a room there as well.”
(25)
Ava slept surprisingly well, waking only once to replenish the makeshift icepack and to take more Tylenol. When she finally eased herself out of bed in the morning, she found that her hip wasn’t nearly as sore, though her ribs still throbbed.
She made herself a cup of Starbucks VIA instant coffee and turned on her computer. There were no new emails of any interest. The messages from Derek and Mimi were still unopened and she decided to leave them that way. The last thing she needed was distraction, and Mimi specialized in that.
She left the computer and turned on her cellphone to check her messages. There was one. She heard a slow intake of air. “Call me,” Ordonez snarled. “I’m not happy.” Ava deleted the message.
She went to the nightstand where she had left the Yellow Pages and found the detective agency she had hired the night before. She called the number again and got the same male voice. “Don’t you ever sleep?” she asked.
“Twelve-hour shifts. I’m just ending this one.”
“I need the blueprints for this house,” she said, giving him Douglas’s address.
“You aren’t planning to rob the place, are you?” he said.
“No, I promise.”
“Give me half an hour. Same rate.”
“Email the information,” she said, giving him the address.
She looked at herself in the mirror before she stepped into the shower. The bruises on her neck and shoulders now looked insignificant compared to the deep blue and yellow mark on her left hip. Fortunately the icepack and Tylenol had numbed the pain. She peeled the tape off her ribs and found similar discolouration on her right side. She tried stretching, but her ribs screamed at her to stop.
When she got out of the shower, Ava went through her Louis Vuitton suitcase to find fresh clothes. She was down to one clean T-shirt and one set of underwear. She called the front desk and arranged for same-day laundry
