He sounded so sad, so deflated. So I made an executive decision. I let him go.
I hung up and walked back to La Creperie, putting up my hands in a sign of surrender. Tim was already coming toward me.
I told him what Jeff had said, but he wasn’t as gullible as I was.
“You should’ve reeled him in,” Tim said. “There are still too many questions.”
“He said there’s something in my shop,” I said. “That’s why it got trashed.”
“What is it?”
I shrugged. “He said he didn’t know.”
“He’s pretty clever, feeding you bits of information to get your sympathy but not really telling you much more,” Tim said bitterly. “You should’ve gotten him to meet you.” He put his hand out, and I frowned, not knowing what he wanted. “Your phone. I want to see the number he called you from.”
That was easy enough. I gave it to him, and he gave the number to Nate, who wrote it down.
I knew the number, though. And I knew he wouldn’t get anything out of it.
“It’s Simon Chase’s number,” I said flatly.
Tim and Nate stared at me.
“He’s got Chase’s cell phone,” I said cryptically.
“Why?”
I tried to look nonchalant.
“Why does Jeff Coleman have Simon Chase’s phone, Brett?” I recognized the big-brother voice, but instead of the good “I’ll take care of Zack Turner” big brother, this was the one who always came out before he chased me around the yard threatening to “get” me for something or other.
“He… well, he got his hands on it last night at Viva Las Vegas. He said he’d give it back.” Had he? I wasn’t so sure.
Tim took a deep breath. “You do realize that even if the guy didn’t kill anyone, he is a thief?”
“Oh, yeah, I know that,” I said. “Believe me, I don’t like the guy-never did.”
Tim and Nate rolled their eyes at each other.
“Give us the wire,” Tim said.
“Right here?”
“Find a ladies’ room. We’ll wait.”
It did hurt pulling the tape off, in a different way from getting inked. In a worse way, really, because it left nothing but a big, red, raw patch of skin. The dragon had gotten caught under it, and he looked uncomfortable.
Almost as uncomfortable as I felt in the ridiculous outfit. I couldn’t wait to take off this shirt and change into my tank top.
I handed the wire to Tim as I stepped outside. “I’m done?”
“You weren’t much help,” he said. “I’m going to catch a lot of crap for using this stuff and not having anything to show for it.”
“Sorry,” I said, meaning it. “I didn’t get the cop genes.”
I must have touched a nerve, and it looked for a moment like he wanted to give me a hug, but Nate was hovering. It wouldn’t be macho, so he just said, “Let me know if anything else happens.”
“Sure.” So much had gone on in the last couple days, I wasn’t sure I could cram any more in. I needed to get back to the shop and help Bitsy pick up the pieces. I also needed to call the hospital and Joel and see how Ace was doing.
“I’m on my way back,” I said when I called Bitsy as I waited in line for a crepe. Might as well have lunch first; who knew when I’d get another chance?
“It’s okay. You don’t have to hurry. I’ve got a lot of it done already.”
I was incredibly grateful. Bitsy and I had had a hard start when I bought the shop from Flip. She was convinced I was enemy number one and would fire everyone and bring in my own people. She had a chip on her shoulder bigger than she was, which almost made me take her up on her prediction. But she’s incredibly efficient and ran Flip’s shop like clockwork for ten years. I couldn’t let her go. Gradually, we began to grow on each other. Except for that stool.
“Have you heard about Ace?” I asked.
“Joel called a little bit ago. Ace had a concussion, so they’re going to keep him overnight. But he’s doing okay, keeps asking for oxygen. So how did it go with Coleman?”
“He never showed. He called me with some crazy thing about how Matthew had trashed the shop looking for something, but he was sure he hadn’t found it. If you see anything that might warrant someone breaking in and beating up Ace, let me know.”
“Nothing here that’s not familiar,” she said. “But I’ll keep an eye out.”
I ended the call after telling her I’d be there shortly and was walking out onto the sidewalk, back toward the Venetian, when my cell phone warbled.
Simon Chase’s number. I flipped the phone open.
“Now that you’ve gotten rid of that wire, we can talk, Kavanaugh.”
I whirled around, looking for Tim, but seeing nothing but a sea of tourists.
“He’s long gone.”
“Where are you?”
Jeff Coleman fell into step beside me, his phone to his ear, a grin on his face. We hung up at the same time.
“My brother’s not happy you have Simon Chase’s phone,” I said.
“And he’s really not going to be happy when you bring it back to Chase.” He dropped the phone into my bag.
“Why am I doing that?” I asked. “I don’t want to see him.”
“It’s your way into Versailles.”
“And why do I want to go there? The last time you sent me there, I found a dead guy in a tub.” Which reminded me… “What did you and Matt Powell talk about?”
“He told me to watch my back.”