than just secretarial skills on it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again, this time ignoring my question.
I slipped on a little spilled beer and leaned down to pick up the bottle as I followed him out into his office. “I got locked in. I got a text message from you saying to meet you here, but then I realized it wasn’t from you, but by then it was too late, I was in here, the door was locked, I couldn’t get out.” The stream of consciousness flowed freely out of my mouth. I put the bottle on the bar, Chase not even seeming to notice I’d helped myself.
“I didn’t text you,” Chase said, looking from me to Joel, whose expression told me he was having a hard time figuring out what was going on.
I shrugged. “I know that now. But I didn’t know it before. The person who texted me said I should do the same thing as yesterday, tell them downstairs about Mickey and Minnie, and here I am. If Manning sees me, I’m dead.” Immediately I regretted my choice of words, but in their confusion, no one seemed to notice.
“You’re right about that,” Chase said. “What was the number?”
“What?”
“The number the text message came from?”
I dug my phone out of my bag and hit some buttons, showing him.
“It’s not my number.”
“I know.”
Chase hit a button on the phone and listened a couple minutes before handing it back to me. “No answer, no voice mail.”
I couldn’t help myself. “What’s up with this Mickey and Minnie business?”
“I have no idea,” he said, but something crossed his face, something that told me he knew exactly what it was all about.
“Does everyone use the same code?” I couldn’t help but push; it was too intriguing. Did they do that at every resort in Vegas? I’d never heard anything about it if they did.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he repeated, and his face didn’t give him away this time.
We stared at each other a couple of seconds. I opened my mouth, then shut it again.
“What?” he asked.
“Well, you might have gotten a phone call while I was here.” I paused. “And it might have been on speakerphone.”
Chase cocked his head to one side, studying me. “And who might it have been?” Without waiting for me to answer, he stepped around his desk and picked up the phone, hitting the MESSAGE button. He listened to Elise’s message, then set the receiver down carefully, not looking at me or Joel, but staring out the window.
“So she’s alive,” I said softly.
His head swung around, his eyes meeting mine. “I’ll get you out of here without Manning seeing you.”
“Where are the Elvises?”
Chase shook his head. “I’m getting you and your friend out of here. I’ll call you.”
Right. That’s what they all say. And then they never do. I wasn’t born yesterday.
He must have seen my thoughts written all over my face, because he smiled as he came over to me and ran his finger along my cheek, causing goose bumps to rise, among other things. “I really will call you,” he promised, then looked up at Joel, all business now.
Joel was trying not to snicker, and I shot him a look.
“Did you valet park?” he asked us.
We both shook our heads.
“That makes it easier.”
Chase took my elbow and led us out through his office and Penny’s office and into the hall. Instead of taking us to the elevator we’d both come up in, he brought us around the corner and down a flight of stairs to another elevator.
“This will take you out to the loading dock out back,” he said. “When you get there, go outside and walk around to your left to the parking lot. Don’t stop to talk to anyone. Just look like you’re supposed to be there, and they’ll leave you alone.”
The elevator doors opened, and Joel stepped inside. Just as I was about to follow him, Chase put his arm across the door, his body so close to mine I could feel his heat, his deep brown eyes mesmerizing.
“Don’t think about hanging around to follow me.”
I opened my mouth to say I wasn’t-even though the thought had crossed my mind-but he stopped me by leaning in, his lips brushing mine, his tongue most definitely in play. He tasted like cognac, and I caught my breath, but this time it was in a good way.
He pulled away too soon. It was a tease, and his fingers lightly ran down my arm and cupped my hand, caressing my palm.
“I’ll call,” he whispered, then stepped back.
I sidestepped him and joined Joel in the elevator, the doors closing on Simon’s face, and we fell with a jolt.
To his credit, Joel didn’t start chuckling until the doors opened again.
“He likes you,” he said. “And it looks like you like him back.”
“What are we, in seventh grade? Can we just get out of here?” I felt the flush crawling up my neck, and I needed a distraction.
“What’s up with Elise?”
I filled Joel in as we followed Simon’s instructions, passing a few Mexicans loading and unloading whatever it was they had delivered back here, but no one bothered us.
“I think we have to follow him,” I said.
“I think you’re right.”
At least we were on the same page with this one.
Problem was, we weren’t exactly sure just where Simon’s car was, what he drove, or how we’d follow through on this plan. And we had two cars, since we’d both driven here.
“Do you know anything about Elvises and where they hang out?”
“Brett, there’s an Elvis on every corner here.”
No kidding.
“Bitsy might know,” Joel offered. “Remember last year she dated that Elvis? The little-person Elvis? I’ll call her.” He pulled out his cell and dialed. I heard him tell Bitsy he was okay, Brett had overreacted, but he needed to ask her if the Elvises in town had a place they hung out. He listened a couple seconds, thanked her, then closed his phone.
“Got it,” he said. “Let’s take your car. It’s right here. I’m parked all the way over on the other side of the garage and up a couple levels.”
“Where are we going?”
“Viva Las Vegas.”
“Where?”
“It’s a club off the Strip on Charleston. It’s all karaoke, all the time, and it’s all Elvis songs. Bitsy says she’s never seen more Elvises in one place than there.”
“But it’s a shot in the dark.” The thought of karaoke alone made me shudder; the idea of Elvis karaoke was enough to make me run screaming from the room.
“It’s the only shot we’ve got.”
We climbed into my Mustang, and as I maneuvered our way out of the Versailles driveway, I discovered we had another problem.
The white Dodge Dakota had parked itself on my butt again as we pulled out onto the Strip.
Chapter 38
“Lose him,” Joel instructed.
