Chapter Twenty-Five
Beau was in the kitchen making sandwiches for lunch when he looked up to see Cassidy walk excitedly into the room.
“We got lucky. Vaughn’s going to the Children’s Home Masquerade Ball tonight. Unfortunately, the only tickets available are VIP, which cost a fortune, but I think it would be worth it. Plus it’s a donation—tax deductible.”
He set the mayonnaise jar down on the kitchen counter. “Tax deductible, huh? So how much of a deduction am I going to get?”
She bit her lip, which made him want to kiss her. “Seven thousand dollars.”
He shrugged. “Not too bad, considering it’s for charity.”
“Apiece.”
He laughed. “I bet no one’s ever called you a cheap date.”
Cassidy practically danced. Fortunately for his libido, her pretty feet were now in a pair of sneakers. “So are you okay with this?”
“Where do you plan to get the surveillance equipment?”
“My office. I’ve got some stuff there, plus the guys always have a stash of interesting paraphernalia. Chase pretends not to know about it. I should be able to find something. We can stop on the way to the costume shop.”
The costume shop. Beau inwardly groaned. Dressing up in some garb that made him look like an idiot was the last thing he wanted. But bringing down Vaughn countered any hesitation he had.
“Fine, get the tickets, but I’m not wearing a pair of those ridiculous tights. I’m not dressing up as a court jester or Henry the Eighth, or any guy who went out in public with his privates on full display. We need to get that straight right now.”
Cassidy laughed. “Okay, no tights.” She glanced down at the fly of his jeans. “Though you do have a very nice package.”
Beau’s gaze followed hers and he actually felt himself blush.
“No tights,” Cassidy said, still grinning. “I need to pay for the tickets; then we have to get going. Finding the right costume might take a little time.”
Beau pulled out his wallet, slid out his American Express card and held it out to her. He caught her wrist when she reached for it. “Are you sure you’re up to this? It’s only been a few days since you were lying in a hospital bed.”
“True enough. But since I don’t care for a repeat performance, I don’t have much choice. Besides, I’m not going alone, and we won’t have to stay very long. As soon as we get the bugs on his car, we’re out of there.”
“How do we find out what he’s driving?”
“Already got it. Found it in the DMV records before I made the calls.”
“Hacking again?”
“I didn’t have to hack. Digging up information is what I do. It’s all out there. You just need to know where to look.”
“So what’s Vaughn driving?”
“White 2016 Mercedes S550 coupe.”
“Nice car.”
“Not cheap, that’s for sure.” She looked away. “Not nearly as much as a Lamborghini.”
“Hey, take it easy. I called the insurance company. You can help me pick out a new one after this is over.” The minute the words were out of his mouth, Beau regretted them. When this was over, it would be time to end things between them. It was the way it had to be.
To take his mind off the inevitable, he grabbed the lunch plates off the counter, each with a roast beef sandwich, a handful of potato chips, and a dill pickle. He set them down on the kitchen table along with glasses of sweet iced tea.
Cassidy sat across from him and they both dug into their meals. When they finished, she picked up the plates. “So . . . what about Sir Lancelot?” she asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
Beau fought a smile and just shook his head. This was one argument Cassidy Jones wasn’t going to win.
* * *
They were climbing into the BMW for their trip into the city when Beau’s cell phone started to ring. He flipped it open but didn’t recognize the number, held the phone to his ear. “Reese.”
“Hello, Beau.” A woman’s voice floated over the line. “This is Emily Watson, Senator Watson’s wife. You probably don’t remember me, but—”
“Actually, I do. My father introduced us a few years back at a chamber of commerce ribbon-cutting ceremony he and I both happened to be attending.”
“That’s right. I got your number from Charlotte. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. What can I do for you, Mrs. Watson?”
“This is a difficult time for me, I’m afraid. Were you aware my husband died almost a month ago?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. You have my sympathies.”
“Thank you. I’d like to talk to you, Beau . . . if you could find the time. Charlotte told me you were investigating your father’s death. I don’t know for certain, but there’s a chance I have information that might be important.”
His brain went on alert. Emily Watson’s husband had been a sitting Texas state senator, a colleague of his dad’s. Maybe she knew something that could lead them to the answers they needed.
“I’d be more than happy to meet with you, Mrs. Watson.” The sooner the better. “Would tomorrow work?”
“It’s just Emily, and tomorrow would work very well. I take the children to church in the morning, but we’ll be home by eleven.”
“Eleven o’clock then. What’s your address?”
She rattled off a house number on Binkley Avenue in University Park. “You know how to get there?”
“I’ll find you,” Beau said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The call ended and he turned to Cassidy.
“We might have just caught a break. We’ve got a meeting with Emily Watson, Senator Watson’s wife, tomorrow at eleven A.M. She says she might have something on my father’s murder.”
“Wow. That could be good.”
“Emily says her husband died about a month ago. It would have been in the papers, but I don’t remember reading about it.”
Cassidy frowned. “I think I remember seeing something on the news.”
“His wife didn’t say how he died. Maybe he’d been sick.”
“Maybe. Then again, seems like the body count keeps rising.”
Beau felt a chill at the back of his neck. “I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
One thing he’d learned—a helluva lot could happen between today and tomorrow.
* * *
They had a jillion things to do to get ready for the masquerade ball. While Beau stayed in the car to keep watch for anything that might be suspicious, Cassidy went into her office to get the surveillance equipment they needed.
Although it was Saturday, the office was humming. Connie, who took Sundays and Mondays off, came out from behind her oak desk and pulled Cassidy into a hug.
“Oh, you poor child. We’ve all been worried sick.”
“I’m okay.” Cassidy hugged her back. “Just remember the ribs.”
“Oh, damn, I forgot. How you doin’, girl?”
She shrugged. “I’m stiff and sore, but I’ll be fine in a couple more days.” Jase was still in Arizona. Ford was out, but Rome and Lissa were there. Her fellow investigators had called her at the hospital, called every day since to see how she was doing.
They knew she was staying with Beau. She had a hunch they were dying to meet him, but chances were good he was only passing through her life on his way somewhere else, so the introductions could wait.
She ignored a little pang in her heart as she walked over to Rome, who stood next to Lissa. Romeo Romero was a six-foot-tall, black-haired, dark-eyed, überhandsome Latino. Lissa was a tall, slender blonde. For months, the pair seemed to be fighting a mutual attraction neither would admit. Cassidy wondered how much longer the denial would last.
“Hey, lady,” Rome said, bending to brush a kiss on her cheek. “Glad to see you’re back on your feet.”
Lissa very gently hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re okay. We were all really worried.”
“It could have been worse, that’s for sure.”
“They haven’t found the other driver?” Lissa asked.
“Not yet.” They didn’t know the full story and she didn’t have time to go into it now. “Listen, guys. I need some help. Rome, I know how good you are at this kind of thing. I need to get into a locked vehicle without setting off any alarms. Think you could help me with that?”
He flashed her a bad-boy grin. “Oh, yeah. I have exactly what you need—but you can’t tell anyone where you got it.”
Which meant it was something illegal. Rome had been a gang member before he went straight. Luckily he’d gotten out before he’d been arrested.
He dug into his bottom drawer, came out with a flat black box about five inches square. He explained how the device worked and Cassidy started grinning.
“Definite jail time if you get caught using this little beauty,” she said.
“You can say that again. In the wrong hands, it’s bad news for honest citizens like us.”
“I’m not using it on an honest citizen, and I won’t get caught. Thanks, Rome.” She left him with Lissa, hoping the sparks between them wouldn’t set the room on fire, tried not to think about Beau and how much it was going to hurt when he was gone.
Once she reached her locker in the storage room, she dropped what she needed into the canvas bag she kept inside, along with the device Rome had lent her, and left the office, making her way out to where Beau waited in the BMW.
“No trouble?” she asked as she slid into the passenger seat.
“Haven’t seen a thing. You get what you needed?”
Cassidy unzipped the bag on the floor between her feet. “You aren’t going to believe this.” She pulled the small black box out first. “This little devil gets us into a car without the alarm going off. It steals the code to the key pad and unlocks the door.”
“How’s it work?”
She handed him the box. “An RF transmitter finds the remote entry code and sends it to the locking system. You just touch the vehicle with the device to make it work. The transmitter uses very low power so it doesn’t trigger any nearby cars.”
Beau whistled. “So you can get into a car and steal what’s inside without anyone knowing you were there. The dome light is going to be a problem.”
She grinned. “It shuts down the system so the light won’t go on.”
Beau handed back the box. “Does it let the thief start the damn engine, too?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Damn. You’re talking to a guy who owns a couple of six-figure sports cars so that’s not good news. What other illegal devices are in that bag?”
She smiled as she pulled out a small circular disk. “Having this little toy isn’t actually illegal. It depends on how you use it.”
“Like we’ll be using it tonight?”
She shrugged.
“What is it and how does it work?”
“It’s a battery operated, motion sensitive, magnetic GPS. We stick it under the car bumper. Lasts about twelve hours of driving time before the battery goes dead.”
“So we can follow the vehicle on the computer.”
“That’s right. Kind of like Google Maps. We can get the addresses of wherever he goes.”
“I’m likin’ that.”
“Me, too.” Pulling a tiny black plastic square out of the bag, she held it up. “And last but not least, we have one of my favorites. A wireless, voice-activated audio transmitter. You program it by sending a text to the SIM card in the unit, then you call it from your cell phone and you can listen to what’s happening within thirty feet of the device. No rings, no beeps, no clicks to alarm the target. And there’s no distance limitation because you’re listening on your phone. You can call from anywhere.”
Beau took the device from her fingers and studied it. “If we hide this inside his car, we can listen to his conversations, phone calls, or with passengers.”
“That’s right. It sends a signal to my cell whenever audio is being transmitted.”
“I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed. There’s a chance I’ll wind up back in jail, but it’s still an impressive bag of tricks.”
Cassidy stuck the last device back into the bag and checked her watch. “We need to get over to the costume shop. The afternoon’s almost gone.”
The Beamer fired up as Cassidy clicked her seat belt into place. “So how about Robin Hood? I could go as Maid Marian.”
Beau flicked her a glare in answer. Cassidy chuckled as he made a final check of their surroundings and pulled out of the parking lot. Her humor slowly faded. They were going to the party to try to catch a killer.
The trip to Floyd’s Antiques and Costumes no longer seemed like fun.