8 Bodies is Enough(19)
“What’s the address for the P.O. box place?”
Carlotta read it off while Hannah punched it into the car’s GPS.
“Looks like it’s only about eight miles off the Strip, but in this traffic,” Hannah said, maneuvering the car onto the jam-packed street, “it’ll probably take us twenty minutes to get there.”
Carlotta checked the side mirror. “Keep an eye out for a tail.”
“You still think Dead Johnson wasn’t working alone?”
“I don’t know. But if he wasn’t, and he accidentally suffocated or had a heart attack in that safe, it makes sense someone would take his place.”
“And you think these people believe you’ll lead them to your mother?”
“To Valerie, or maybe to the evidence Randolph said he had that would exonerate him.” Which could exist only in her father’s imagination.
“Who would care enough to follow you?”
Carlotta counted on her fingers. “D.A. Kelvin Lucas, the GBI, the FBI, someone at Mashburn & Tully, one of the people Randolph ripped off—and that’s just from the top of my head. Plus who knows what he’s been into the past ten years? There could be a whole pile of people looking for Randolph I wouldn’t even know about.” She pulled a red wig from a bag and used the visor mirror to adjust it.
Hannah turned to look at her. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this alone?”
“I can’t confide in Peter…yet.”
“Why not?”
The phone conversation she overheard kept coming back to her. “I don’t trust him not to interfere. And I can’t tell Wes yet—I can’t trust him not to go off half-cocked.”
“But you trust Wes in a casino?”
“He’s not old enough to gamble.”
Hannah barked out a laugh. “You don’t really think that’s going to stop him, do you?”
“He told me he’s going to watch the poker tournaments to pick up pointers.”
“Okay, believe that if you want to.”
“I want to. Besides, I offered him a hundred dollars spending money, and he turned it down, said he wouldn’t be needing any—so there.”
“So, to review, you don’t trust the two people you should trust more than anyone else?”
The truth hurt. “The only person who knows everything is you,” Carlotta said. The unspoken words hung in the air. The woman who’d withheld until recently the information that her own family had been a victim of Randolph’s scams. “If something were to happen to me—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“—you have to tell Wes everything. Promise me.”
Hannah’s eyes grew serious. “You know you can count on me.”
Carlotta nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Then Hannah quirked a smile. “Wow, today could be the day you’re reunited with your mother. Are you ready for that?”
“I really don’t know. I guess I’m afraid to get my hopes up. I’m following a trail of pretty cryptic clues.” And if by some miracle she did locate Valerie, what kind of reception would she get?
“What do you know about this post office box?”
“From what I could tell on my phone, it’s one of those shipping stores where you can rent a P.O. box.”
“Want to do a drive-by before I let you off?”
“Do you have time before your meeting?”
“The dickhead prince I’m meeting will probably think more of me if I’m late.” Hannah drove the nondescript rental car around and through agonizingly slow traffic for long minutes. “Do you see anything suspicious?”
Carlotta was keeping an eye on the side mirror. “No. I think we’re good.”
“Okay, so the place should be a couple blocks down on the right. This isn’t the best part of town.”
Carlotta was thinking the same thing. The main drags of Las Vegas were clean and in good repair, but this side pocket was litter strewn and graffiti tagged. And the people hanging out on the corners weren’t passing out handbills.
As they drove closer, her heart was pounding. But if she thought Valerie Wren would be standing in front of the business, she was mistaken. It was a sad little storefront with faded window displays, not yet open for the day.
“Where should I let you out?” Hannah asked.
“Drive a couple blocks away, and I’ll walk back. It doesn’t open for another thirty minutes.”
Hannah did as she asked, letting her off outside a coffee shop.
“Thanks, and I hope your meeting goes well.”
“Yeah, what the fuck ever. Call me if something exciting happens on your end.”