“Yeah, yeah, okay.”
Serena didn’t ask how many people he’d already conned into placing advance orders at two hundred bucks a pop. She figured they’d get complaints about that at the station soon enough.
Meanwhile, Curt squatted in front of Elton, and the black-and-white dog responded to his charm, too. The dog licked his face and then tumbled over on the park sidewalk for a tummy rub.
“Who’s the pooch?” Curt asked. “When did you guys get a dog? I can’t believe Cat didn’t tell me.”
“He’s sort of a loaner,” Serena replied without going into details.
“Well, he’s cute. You guys need a dog. I mean, now that you don’t have a Cat anymore, why not get a dog?”
“Ha.”
“Speaking of Kitty Cat,” Curt went on.
“Let’s not.”
“Aw, come on, Serena. We’re just friends. She and I text every day. It’s no big thing. I’d never cause her any trouble, I swear.”
“You’ve already caused her plenty of trouble,” Serena reminded him.
“Well, don’t worry, I’d never lay a finger on her. Absolutely no funny stuff. I value my life too much. You and Stride know too many places to hide bodies.”
Serena couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Cat’s doing well at UMD, so I want you to leave her alone, okay?”
“Tell you what, how about I leave Cat alone and you leave my website alone?” Curt asked with a wink. He pushed a button on a small plastic box to make the lights on his body chase each other from head to toe. The display gave Serena a headache.
“How about you tell me what you know about Gavin Webster?” Serena replied. “And turn off those damn lights.”
Curt switched off the controller with a loud sigh, and his light suit went dark. “Gavin? Sure, I know Gavin. He’s helped me out a few times. What’s the deal with the kidnapping? Did he do it? I bet he did it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Hubby inherits a fortune. Wife disappears. Connect the dots.”
“Do you have any evidence to back that up?”
Curt put a finger on the side of his nose. “No, that’s just how it smells to me.”
“Well, forget how it smells. Right now we’re trying to figure out who grabbed Chelsey and where they’re hiding her. You got any names of people I should talk to?”
Curt looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “You know about Broadway?”
“Yeah, Stride and Maggie just talked to him. Stride filled me in about Gavin and the poker games.”
An eyebrow shot up on Curt’s forehead. “Stride? The big guy’s back in the lineup? I knew he couldn’t stay away forever.”
“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have your support, Curt. Now, do you know anyone who could be involved in the abduction? Any people connected to Broadway?”
“Well, I’ve been known to put Broadway in touch with local assets from time to time,” Curt admitted. “He’s a Minneapolis guy, so he doesn’t have the connections around here that I do.”
“What kind of connections are you talking about? Players?”
“No, that’s all him, but he likes a class operation. Entertainers. Musicians. Studs behind the bar to pour drinks, pretty girls to take their minds off the cards. All of that is sort of my specialty.”
“And Gavin?”
“He’s been hip-deep in the whole thing from the beginning.”
“He’s not just a player?” Serena asked.
“Oh, no, he helped Broadway set it up. There have been a few legal hiccups along the way, and Gavin made them go away. A security guy had a DUI. One of the players got carjacked with a lot of cash in the car. Gavin smoothed it all over. In return, Broadway staked him in the games.”
“We heard Gavin was in some heavy debt for a while.”
“Yeah. He loves poker, but he’s no good at it. Between you and me, I think Broadway liked having Gavin in hock to him. A lawyer makes for a nice house pet. But then Gavin got a windfall from his sister and paid it all off.”
“Is it possible Broadway got nervous about Gavin inheriting all that money? Like maybe Gavin would walk away and expose the games?”
“Hard to say. Broadway’s a slick dude, but you don’t want to cross him.”
“What about Gavin’s wife? What do you know about Chelsey?”
Curt made a little growl. “The cougar? Nice body, I’m told. She stays in shape. Better shape than the marriage.”
“Who told you that?” Serena asked.
“One of my favorite party girls also works as a masseuse. She met Gavin at one of the gigs. She’s not always strict about adhering to the no-happy-endings rule, so she calls Gavin for help sometimes when you guys haul her in. Gavin said his wife was looking for a massage and asked Toni to give her a rubdown. No funny business, Chelsey wasn’t into that, at least not with girls. But Chelsey must like her because Toni’s been giving her massages for a while now.”
“What did Chelsey tell Toni?”
“You’d have to ask her for the details. Toni just said Chelsey was worried about getting dumped now that Gavin had money.” Curt snickered. “But I don’t suppose she figured that meant getting dumped in a landfill.”
“This masseuse, Toni. Where do I find her?”
“I’ll text you her number,” Curt replied. “Might as well get a massage while you’re there. She has magic fingers, if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“Please stop talking, Curt.”
“Yeah, sure. We done here?”
“One more question,” Serena said. “Stride got a tip from Broadway. Have you heard about anyone passing around hundred-dollar bills today?”
“C-notes? What, like from the ransom payoff? No, but like I said, I’ll put out the word. Something like that’s easy to spot. If I hear anything, I’ll give you a call.”
“You do that.”
Serena tapped her thigh, and Elton scrambled up next to her as if they’d been training together for months. She also crooked a finger at Curt, and when he leaned in, she took hold of Curt’s collar and whispered. Something about the gesture and the sound of her voice made Elton realize that Curt wasn’t a friend, and a mean rumble emerged from the dog’s throat.
“By the way, I don’t like hearing that you’re still recruiting girls for parties,” Serena murmured. “My advice is that you get out of that business if you know what’s good for you. And if I ever — ever — hear that you’ve invited Cat to one of your parties, then you’ll be the one getting dumped in a landfill.”
Curt held up his hands in surrender and laughed nervously at the threat.
Serena didn’t laugh at all.
Late in the evening, Stride sat in Maggie’s office with his feet up on her desk. This had been his office and his desk before he was shot. She sat on the other side, with her own feet propped on the window ledge. Beyond the glass, the woods were lost in the darkness of the night. The overhead office lights were off, so the only light came from the glow of her computer monitor. They were both quiet.
When Stride inhaled, he realized that the smell of the office had changed. It didn’t smell like him anymore. It didn’t look like his office anymore, either. Serena’s picture and Cat’s picture weren’t smiling at him from frames on the wall. The souvenirs he kept from old cases were gone. Nothing was the same.
Maggie opened the bottom drawer of the desk and removed a bottle of Dublin whiskey, something he never would have kept there. “Teeling?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
She took out two shot glasses and filled them high. He drank his in a single swallow and enjoyed the mellow warmth that spread in his chest. Like so many other things, alcohol wasn’t on his postsurgery diet, but he didn’t care. He’d decided that the key to not dying wasn’t to quit all the things that made life worth living.