her cell, but there’s no answer, just voice mail. That’s not like her.”
None of this was like her.
I shook the thoughts away. “The police were here looking for her.”
Trevor’s eyes skittered across the wall behind me. “What for?”
Hmmm. Did he know something? “Said they wanted to question her about some sort of incident at a pawnshop this morning.” I mentally kicked myself for not getting the name of the place out of DeBurra.
Trevor still didn’t meet my eye. “Really?” He didn’t sound too surprised, but he was trying. I could tell.
I played along. I told him the little that Frank DeBurra had said, how he wanted to see her things. I studied his facial expressions as I spoke, and now I noticed that his eyes were a little too bright and his skin was flushed.
“A guy was looking for you yesterday at the club. Wesley Lambert.”
“Wes? Looking for me?”
“You know him?”
Again he looked a little uncomfortable. “Sure. But I haven’t seen him in ages.”
“He was talking about how you’d pawned something, but he seemed to think it was a mistake. Do you think Charlotte went to the pawnshop about that and something happened while she was there?”
Trevor wiped some sweat off his forehead. “I’m not feeling very good.”
I didn’t want to let him off that easy, but he really wasn’t looking well.
“Are you okay?”
He took a deep breath. “Maybe if I sit down. Last night took a lot out of me.”
I motioned that he should sit in the leather chair behind the desk, and he plopped down like a rock, his head in his hands.
Bitsy and Joel came out of the staff room. “You’re still here,” Bitsy said to Trevor, adding, “Are you sick?”
Trevor looked up, his eyes now twice as bright. “I think so.”
“You should’ve stayed home. You could’ve just called to ask about Charlotte,” I said.
“Charlotte? What about Charlotte?” Bitsy and Joel asked the same thing just seconds apart, giving it sort of an echo effect.
“Charlotte was supposed to pick Trevor up this morning but didn’t show,” I said, then turned back to Trevor. “What pawnshop did you take the pin to?” I couldn’t be a hundred percent sure that it would be the same pawnshop Charlotte had been to this morning, but it was a place to start, anyway, even if it wasn’t.
“Pin?”
I didn’t know whether it was because he was ill or because he was just being cagey, but he was certainly not answering my questions.
“Oh, come on, I know about the queen-of-hearts pin from the fund-raiser. I just need to know which pawnshop. Maybe this is all just a huge misunderstanding. I’m sure there’s some explanation.” Even as I said it, I knew that if Charlotte had gone there to straighten out Trevor’s “mistake,” it had gone wrong somehow.
“It’s up on Las Vegas Boulevard, just up from the Sahara.” Trevor had turned green. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Joel was one step ahead of him. He’d slung his arm under Trevor’s armpits and was carrying him to the bathroom.
I’d wanted to ask Trevor whether he knew anyone with a tattoo of a queen-of-hearts playing card, but the sounds that were coming from the bathroom indicated that he wasn’t in a state to have a chat at the moment.
Joel emerged from the back of the shop. He was moving faster than I’d ever seen him move, and his expression showed his worry. “I think we should call for an ambulance,” he said.
“It’s that bad?” I asked, but Bitsy was one step ahead of me.
She had the phone in her hand and was giving our location.
The paramedics showed up in less than ten minutes. Trevor was still in the bathroom. I hoped our next client would be late, because Trevor being sick wouldn’t be good for business.
Two paramedics guided a gurney toward the back of the shop, and after several minutes they wheeled Trevor out quickly. Mall shoppers stopped and watched the gurney rolling off into the distance. One paramedic stuck around and asked questions: When did Trevor become ill? What had he been like when he arrived? How long had he been in the bathroom?
We answered as well as we could. I wanted to tell him I still had questions of my own, but they would have to wait until Trevor was feeling better.
“He was in the hospital overnight,” I offered and found myself telling the paramedic about the incident at Chez Tango last night. “But that wouldn’t make him sick like this, would it?” I asked.
The paramedic shook his head. “You never know. Or it could be flu.” He added that maybe we should disinfect everything, just in case Trevor was contagious. Great.
He left Bitsy and Joel and me staring at one another, looking at our hands-had we touched anything Trevor had touched? Contagious was never good.
The phone startled us. Bitsy answered, “The Painted Lady,” then listened a few seconds, said, “Okay,” and hung up.
She turned back to us.
“Client?” Joel asked.
She shook her head.
“That was Ace. He’s with Charlotte.”
Chapter 13
Ace didn’t tell Bitsy where they were, just that Charlotte was okay and knew the police were looking for her. He said he’d call back later.
Talk about obstruction of justice.
I tried his cell, but it was turned off. I left a message.
I needed to know more about what happened at that pawnshop this morning. I wouldn’t get anything out of DeBurra. But I might get something out of my brother.
Unfortunately, I got his voice mail. I left a cryptic message and hung up.
“What’s my schedule like this afternoon?” I asked Bitsy.
She leafed through the appointment book. “You’ve got a client at seven.” Bitsy tossed her head back at Joel. “You’ve got someone coming in any moment.”
Shoot. I’d wanted to ask Joel to come with me when I hunted down that pawnshop, but I’d have to go alone.
He knew what I was up to.
“Don’t go playing detective, Brett,” Joel said, putting his arm around my shoulders.
“I have to do something,” I said. “And when I see Ace, I’m going to wring his neck for not telling us where he and Charlotte are.” I gave Bitsy a glare. “I don’t know what you were thinking, letting him just hang up without getting any information out of him.”
“He said to trust him. I do, so there.” She stuck her tongue out at me.
It looked so ridiculous, I couldn’t help but chuckle. “I guess I’m just on edge,” I said, and Red Rock Canyon flashed through my thoughts again.
Bitsy went off to try to disinfect the bathroom and get the stench out of the air that we now noticed was hanging like an invisible cloud.
I went into the staff room to get my bag, and the tracing paper on the light table caught my eye. I didn’t have
