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.
“Lose him? What are we, on Miami Vice?”
“This is the Bullitt car, isn’t it?” Joel asked with a tinge of sarcasm. “Wasn’t that the best car chase ever in movies? Steve McQueen on the streets of San Francisco?”
“Now you want a car chase?” I gripped the steering wheel tightly, glancing in the rearview mirror at the Dakota and then through the front windshield at the line of traffic in front of me. “No way. No freakin’ way.”
“You’re no fun,” Joel muttered, and I could’ve sworn he was serious.
Joel told me when to turn right and left, and the Dakota was following the directions beautifully. Like he knew where we were heading.
Either that or I was going so slowly it was much too easy for him.
For a few seconds I did consider trying to “lose him,” but since I’m a law-abiding citizen who drives the speed limit, I couldn’t bring myself to actually do it.
It was now around seven o’clock, and the sky had started to change slightly from its daytime look. I hoped it was too early for karaoke, but when we pulled into the parking lot at Viva Las Vegas alongside about a hundred shiny silver motorcycles, I knew there was a party going on inside. We could hear it, too, as we stepped out of the car, no longer in our air-conditioned cocoon. I could even feel it against the bottoms of my feet, the bass thumping like an earthquake. Not that I knew what an earthquake felt like, but it seemed right.
I glanced around, but the Dakota had disappeared. Maybe the big neon sign advertising KARAOKE TONIGHT had frightened him off. I was sorry I couldn’t hitch a ride and leave this little adventure to Joel.
And to Bitsy?
I recognized the silver MINI Cooper as it pulled in behind the Mustang. She got out and scurried toward us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Bitsy grinned. “I love this place. I’ve always wanted another excuse to come here.”
“But you could come here anytime.”
“No one ever wants to come with me, and I can’t call Rick again. Our breakup was pretty hard on him.”
Bitsy was picky about men and had left two ex-husbands in her wake, as well as more boyfriends than I could keep track of.
She was already halfway inside the door, and Joel shrugged at me. I sighed. If Simon and Elise didn’t show up here, I didn’t know what I’d do. Because it looked like Bitsy was here for the long run.
“So Ace is at the shop?” I asked, uncertain I wanted him running the place. He’d never been there alone, or closed up alone, as long as I’d owned the shop.
Bitsy waved her hand at me as she walked to the bar. “He’s fine. Don’t worry about it. He used to close up all the time when Flip was here and I was going through my second divorce.”
If Bitsy wasn’t worried, then I knew I shouldn’t be. But it would be a good reason to leave.
“Don’t even think about it,” Joel whispered, reading my mind. “We’re on a mission. Your mission.”
I wasn’t so sure about that anymore.
We walked down a long hallway, and when my eyes adjusted to the dark interior, I began to notice the decor. The walls were black, speckled with huge movie posters for-what else-Viva Las Vegas, Elvis and Ann-Margret cartoony and frozen in a dance step. Black lights illuminated Joel’s white shirt, turning him into a beacon moving toward the bar. I was still wearing the purple top and white trousers, and I felt like a magician’s trick.
When we stepped through a black curtain, the cavernous room spread out in front of us, the lights dim, fading everyone to a soft sepia. Maybe they thought we’d look better that way. The red and blue skinny lights hanging over the long, sleek, black marble bar offered a splash of color, but it was more like I was in a cave, expecting to feel the drops from stalactites descending from the ceiling, but instead only the whoosh of air-conditioning came from an unseen vent.
A stage with a red curtain was across the room, and small, round cocktail tables with chairs sat between the bar and the stage.
Those things didn’t worry me. It was the clientele. We were the only ones there who were not dressed like Elvis. Even the few women in the room were wearing black wigs, big Elvis sunglasses-despite the low light-and white se quined pantsuits. There must have been fifty Elvises, but a glance around the room told me Simon Chase and Elise Lyon were not among them, unless they, too, were in costume. Somehow I couldn’t see Simon playing dress-up. Elise… well, I didn’t know her, so who knew how she got her rocks off. She did set this meeting up.
But on the whole, it felt like a big bust.
I tugged on Joel’s arm; he’d already ordered and handed me a Corona. Bitsy was seated in front of a pink Cosmo the size of a Cadillac. She wore a huge smile as she flirted with the bartender, who seemed captivated. That was the other thing about Bitsy: She didn’t just date little people. She’d had her share of taller men; the last one looked like Aidan Quinn but his voice was higher.