“Kelly’s, for one,” I said before I could stop myself.
But Jeff wasn’t exactly waxing sentimental about his ex-wife tonight. “Yeah,” he said absently before changing the subject. “Can you find out if your brother’s still looking for me?”
“He is,” I said. “You should just go talk to him. Tell him the truth.”
He snorted. “Like he’d believe me, Kavanaugh. You and I are not the upper end of society, you know. You just got a pass because he’s your brother, or you’d be sitting in a holding cell right now for that guy’s murder.”
“They fingerprinted me,” I said.
“They had to. The guy got stuck with a needle. One of ours.”
“I remember. You don’t have to tell me. I saw him.” I shuddered as I pictured it in my head. “You know, he was in my shop. Wanted a devotion tat, like Elise Lyon. He didn’t show up at your shop after that, did he?”
Jeff’s expression changed, but I couldn’t read it. I never liked to look that closely at him anyway.
“Not that I know of,” he said. “I can check with my mother. She’s been holding down the fort.”
“Hey, what about Matthew? Did you see where he went?”
Jeff shook his head. “Lost him.”
I wasn’t quite sure how you could lose a six-four, bald, heavily tattooed man, even in the casino crowd. But before I could make a snide remark, he surprised me.
“You can’t sing.”
“What?”
“That karaoke thing, tonight, at Viva Las Vegas.”
“You were there?”
“I got a call.”
“What? You got a call? A call from who?”
Jeff shrugged. “Someone left a message to meet you there.”
“Meet me-” I stopped. Someone had texted me to have me meet Simon Chase and it was a lie. I told Jeff about that, and added, “Do you think someone’s setting us both up?”
Jeff sighed. “I’ve thought about this, Kavanaugh, and I just don’t see why. I mean, I haven’t seen Kelly in a long time. I don’t know this rich bitch everyone’s looking for. I just do my job. What’s the motive?”
I was stuck on that, too. Unless it was totally random. Whoever was moving all the pieces had found us and decided we’d be part of the game. The tattoo needle fit into that theory.
“Listen, Jeff, I’m tired. I need to go home and get some sleep and get up and go to work tomorrow. I’m tired of this cat-and-mouse crap. Let’s call it a night.”
“Don’t tell your brother you saw me,” he said, just before turning and walking away, back into the casino.
I had to go that way, too, so I could get my car from the lot.
It had cooled down to about eighty degrees, and I felt like I could even use a sweater. Go figure. I put the top down on the Mustang, eager to enjoy the night air, and eased out of the lot, heading the car toward home.
The flashing lights bounced off the rearview mirror. Familiar lights, and not of the neon-sign type.
I pulled over, grabbing my license and registration out of my glove box.
Chapter 44
The flashlight in my eyes blinded me, and I put my hand up to cover them.
“Yes, Officer?” I asked, ready to drop Tim’s name so I could get out of here as soon as I could.
“Do you have any idea why I pulled you over?”
I shook my head, the light still keeping me from seeing anything but his silhouette.
He dropped the flashlight to his side, and in the headlights from his cruiser I could make out his shape. He looked remarkably like a fireplug.
Willis?
I flashed a smile. “Fancy seeing you here,” I tried. Better here than outside my shop again.
He scowled. “One of your taillights is out,” he said matter-of-factly, as if he didn’t recognize me.
Not that I wasn’t recognizable with the tats. So that was the way he was going to play it.
“I had no idea,” I said. “I’ll bring it in to get serviced first thing in the morning.”
He flipped out a pad. “Have to give you a citation.”
“Not just a warning? I mean, I didn’t know.” I was not above tears in situations like this, so I made my voice go all trembly in anticipation of my next move.
“You have to realize that just because your brother is a detective we can’t give you any special treatment.” His voice was still flat, but at least he acknowledged me now.
“I didn’t ask for any,” I said belligerently, knowing it was not the right tone, but it was late and my emotions were all over the place like Mexican jumping beans.
He scribbled on his pad, then ripped off the page and handed it to me. “You’ll have to go to court.”
“Court? For a taillight?”
“You were also driving very recklessly. So I’ve got you down for that, too.”
Reckless driving? Me? Give me a break.
“Listen, Willis,” I said. “This is a load of crap.”
“Do you want me to add any other charges?”
I shut up, took the ticket, and nodded. “Okay, fine.”
“Be a little safer on the road next time,” he said, his words butting up against a harder edge.
I didn’t want to push my luck, so I just nodded again and reached for the stick shift. But before I could put it in gear, he slammed his hand down on the windowsill.
“Next time, when someone asks you a question and you know the answer, you should just be honest,” he said, an edge in his voice.
“And maybe when you’re asking about something, you might want to give more of an explanation,” I said defiantly.
He stared at me a second, and I wondered whether he would give me another ticket for talking back, but then he surprised me by sighing, shaking his head, and turning away.
I watched him in the side-view mirror as he walked back to his cruiser, his shoulders straight despite the heavy chip that obviously sat on them.
I crumpled up the ticket and tossed it in the glove box. I’d give it to Tim when I got home.
Speak of the devil, Tim was making scrambled eggs and toast.
“Breakfast for dinner?” I asked, slinging my bag over the back of a kitchen chair.
“Most important meal of the day,” he said.
“In the morning,” I reminded him. I threw the ticket I’d gotten from Willis on the counter in front of him. “Met up with that cop who was looking for Elise that first day, and it seems he’s making my personal life his own personal business.”
Tim uncrumpled the ticket and read it. “Reckless driving? You?”
“Hard to believe, but Willis seems to think that staying within the speed limit is reckless.”
Tim shoved it in the pocket of his trousers. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”
“He said I shouldn’t rely on you.”
Tim grinned.
“He’s holding a grudge. Because I didn’t answer his questions.”
Tim’s eyebrows popped up into his forehead. “Don’t blame the guy,” Tim said, scooping the eggs onto a plate. He cocked his head and frowned. “Speaking of guys, what’s up with you and Simon Chase?”
“What do you mean?”
“I called the shop and Bitsy said you were out to lunch with him. What’s going on?”
“Don’t play big brother with me.”
“Hey, who took care of Zack Turner for you?”
I smiled involuntarily. When we were in middle school, Zack Turner grabbed my science report out of my
