A Flight of Fantasy (Sarah Woods Mystery 12) Read online

  “When is she due?” I asked.

  “Six weeks.”

  “Congratulations,” I replied.

  Carter cleared his throat, obviously eager to get back to the topic at hand. “So, Chris, about Thursday night, I’m just curious why you asked Wayne to go with you.”

  “I like the guy and I know he doesn’t go out much. Most of the engineers at Veerbaum are egotistical jerk-offs. They treat me like I’m dirt. Wayne is the only guy there who’s nice to me. A few weeks ago, when I came into his office to empty his trash, he actually invited me to go to lunch with him and he even paid the bill. My position there is just temporary until my agent sells my manuscript.”

  “Manuscript?” I said. “You wrote a novel?”

  Chris nodded. “Yep. It’s a murder mystery with some paranormal twists. My agent is convinced it’s going to be a best-seller but first we have to find a publisher.”

  “Good for you,” Carter said with genuine surprise. “I hope it works out.”

  Chris shrugged, slightly flustered as he searched through a pile of dirty clothes. He found a t-shirt that didn’t look too wrinkled and put it on. “Anyway, like I said, Wayne’s a good guy. Most people think he’s odd, but he’s really just shy. Especially around girls. I’m trying to teach him how to be more confident in that way.” Chris went over to the mini fridge and opened it. “I’d offer you guys a drink but all I have is beer and stale ginger ale.”

  I held up a hand. “We just had lunch so we’re all set. Thanks anyway.”

  His gaze lingered on the six-pack of beers in the fridge but he must have thought better of it. With a sigh, he returned to his chair and sat down. His knee kept bobbing up and down and he reminded me of a young kid who had to use the bathroom really badly. He looked down at his knee and covered it with his hand to temper the bouncing.

  “Sorry, it’s hard for me to relax. I’m always like this. Have been since I was a kid. Drives my wife crazy. I have a hypersensitive nervous system. It’s kinda like OCD. I have to keep moving. It helps when I smoke pot but I can’t do that anymore. Veerbaum does random drug testing so I have to keep clean if I want to keep my job. Hopefully, I won’t be working there much longer.”

  “So, getting back to this woman that Wayne met. What can you remember about her? Specific details would be helpful.”

  “She had long, dark hair,” Chris said. “Nice legs. She was dressed in a very classy red dress.”

  “Speaking of that,” I said. “Did it occur to you when you saw them together that she might be a prostitute?”

  Chris coughed into his fist and shook his head. “Not that I’d even know what a high end call girl looks like. I got married right out of high school and I never had a chance to experiment with a professional.” He held up his left hand to indicate his wedding band. “Since my wife is pregnant, my sex life could safely be chronicled in a Disney movie.”

  Carter chuckled. “I understand. Do you remember seeing Wayne leave with the woman?”

  “Not exactly. I mean, he got pretty bombed that night. At one point, I just noticed he was gone. I figured he left with the girl. I guess I should’ve been more concerned about him but, hey, he’s a grown man.”

  Carter nodded thoughtfully. “Did you tell anyone, other than your wife, that you were going to the event with Wayne? Someone at work, perhaps?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Do you know of anyone at Veerbaum that might have issues with Wayne? Does he have any enemies? Maybe a co-worker who is jealous of his talents?”

  Chris shook his head. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

  “I’m sure you’d never eavesdrop,” Carter said seriously, “but you must overhear conversations among the other engineers. Have you ever heard anyone say anything about stealing Wayne’s designs?”

  “No, but if I ever did, I’d tell Wayne right away.”

  “Okay.” Carter glanced at me and tipped his head toward the door. “Unless you have any other questions for Chris, we should get going.”

  “I can’t think of anything else.” I put my notebook away and handed Chris a business card. “Please call us if you think of anything.”

  “Sure. I can do that. I hope you find that woman.”

  Chapter 6

  “What’s your impression of Chris Allen?” Carter asked me as we sped through town. It was twenty minutes to four and I could tell he was anxious about getting to the Four Season’s lounge on time for his date with Rita.

  “Chris seems like a good friend to Wayne. His fidgety nature is a bit unsettling, but I like him. How about you?”

  “Bright kid, but it sounds like he’s a little disillusioned about the reality of having a bestselling book.”

  “At least he has aspirations,” I said. “He sounds like a bright kid with a bright future. These things take time.”

  The Four Seasons was located in the heart of downtown Cambridge just a few blocks from Harvard University. Carter pulled over to the side of the street just a hundred yards short of the hotel. He handed me his tablet. “I’m wearing the voice activated recorder on my shirt so you’ll be able to hear my conversation with Rita. I’m not sure how she’ll arrive but, hopefully, she’s going to be driving the same red sports car as Thursday night. If you spot it, write down the license number.”

  “What if she doesn’t arrive by car? She might have a taxi drop her off.”

  “Then just do your best to follow her when she leaves.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s the plan? Are you gonna take her up to the room and try to get her to ’fess up?”

  “Yes. Once we’re alone, I’m going to level with her. I’ll show her the surveillance photos taken of her and Wayne at his house. She’ll probably deny it was her but maybe not. If I get the chance I’ll place a tracking device inside her purse just as an added measure.” Carter checked his watch. “I have to go. I’d like to get in there early before she arrives.”

  “Good luck.”

  After Carter left, I slid over into the driver’s seat and turned on the tablet he’d given me. The program allowed me to listen to conversations in real time via a tiny recording device planted on Carter’s watch. The battery only lasted a few hours, hopefully plenty of time to get what we needed. At least, I hoped this interaction wouldn’t take that long. I had visions of the movie Pretty Woman starring Richard Gere and Julia Roberts, where the handsome, rich corporate man falls in love with the beautiful prostitute. I quickly dispelled those thoughts. Stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life, does it?

  It was 3:48pm and I mentally prepared myself to stay on high alert. I scanned the neighborhood, taking in the scene before me. I had a clear shot of the front entryway where cars drive up to the hotel to let off passengers and luggage. There was a van parked there having probably just dropped off a family visiting the area.

  Because of the rain, there weren’t many people milling about outside. The bellboy took cover under the porte cochère, wearing his black and red pinstriped uniform. At 3:54pm, a taxi pulled up. A dark haired woman got out of the back seat. She was wearing a navy blue trench coat and black pumps. A shiny black purse dangled from her elbow. Her silky black hair was styled in the perfect thirties wave that cascaded down her back. From a hundred yards away, I couldn’t see her face but I knew it had to be Rita.

  She walked confidently into the hotel and disappeared from my view. I checked the tablet to make sure the volume was turned up, expecting Carter’s voice to come on at any second.

  Two minutes passed. I heard a man’s voice say, “Sir, what can I get for you?”

  Carter said, “A gin and tonic, please.”

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Carter was at the bar and had just ordered a cocktail - but where was Rita? Maybe she had slipped into the ladies room to freshen up her lipstick before continuing on to the lounge, where Carter had arranged to meet her.

  When I realized I was holding my breath with anticipation, I told myself to relax. Car
ter has done things like this before. He knows what he’s doing. I need to trust him. All part of the job.

  Another few minutes passed and finally a sultry woman’s voice activated the program. My ears pricked with fascination.

  “Mr. Calloway?”

  “Yes. You must be Rita. Won’t you please join me for a drink?”

  “Thank you. I’d love a glass of Cabernet. I’ve never been to this hotel before. It’s lovely.”

  “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice. I’m only in town for a few days. I have to say, this is the first time I’ve … well, it’s my first date with a celebrity.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “All over. I travel for work so I basically live out of hotels. I’m in sales and marketing for a company out west called, Tech Solutions. Not terribly exciting, I’ll admit.”

  “Sounds interesting to me. But we can talk about other things if you’d like.”

  “I don’t like to talk about myself. Why don’t we talk about you?”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “How long have you lived in the Boston area?”

  “Most of my life. My family is here so I’m inclined to stay close.”

  “With a face like yours, I bet you’ve done some modeling.”

  “A little when I was younger. The industry is too competitive, though. I didn’t care for it.”

  “And now, you have stimulating conversations with lonely old men like me. How fun for you.”

  “You’re not old.”

  “I feel old most days. I keep thinking I’d like to retire early and move to a tropical island somewhere. I’d like to sit on a beach and watch the sunset every day.”

  “Sounds romantic. If you were going to take me out on a date, is that where we’d go? To the beach?”

  “Sure. Too bad it’s raining and fifty degrees. How are you enjoying the wine?”

  “Delicious. Thank you.”

  “I know our time is limited today but, maybe if things work out, I could take you to the beach next time I’m in town.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “I bet you look amazing in a bikini.”

  “If you take me up to your room, I’ll show you what I look like without a bikini.”

  “I’d like that very much but there’s no rush. Please finish your wine.”

  A minute passed and I heard Carter thanking the bartender, telling him to keep the change. I surmised that he and Rita were on their way up to the room. They made small talk in the elevator with another couple and, a few minutes after that, Carter and Rita must have entered the room.

  Rita: “This is probably rude of me to ask, but how expensive is it to stay here?”

  Carter: “I get a special rate because of work. I think it’s around two hundred a night.”

  Rita: “It’s nice. Very cozy, in fact. I’ve been in some suites that are bigger than my house. But this is a nice size. Mind if I take off my coat.”

  Carter: “Of course, let me help you with that.”

  I could picture Carter helping her slip out of her coat. I could only imagine what she was wearing underneath. A slinky dress? Or maybe just lingerie? Probably with fish-net stockings and little silk or lace underwear and a padded, push-up bra.

  Rita: “Thank you. You are quite the gentleman.”

  Carter: “Nice dress. I have to say, you really do resemble the late great Rita Hayworth.”

  Rita: “So, tell me what your fantasy is. What would you like to do with me for the next two hours?”

  Carter: “I’d love to sit down and talk some more. I bet they have some wine in the mini bar.”

  Rita: “But we already talked. You don’t have to wine and dine me. I’m a sure thing. Now, tell me what you want to do.”

  Carter: “Okay, I’ll tell you exactly what I want to do. I’d like you to tell me what you were doing at Wayne Miller’s home last Thursday night.”

  Silence.

  Carter: “You intentionally flirted with Wayne at A Flight of Fantasy event Thursday night. Then you drove him to his house. You had sex and then you tried getting on his computer. Why?”

  Rita: “I have no idea what you talking about. Who are you?”

  Carter: “Wayne Miller hired me to find you. So, who are you, Rita. Let’s start with your real name, shall we?”

  Rita: “This is ridiculous. I have no idea what’s going on here but I was never at an event last Thursday. You obviously have the wrong person.”

  Carter: “I don’t think so. This is you in these photos sitting at the bar with Wayne. Looks just like you.”

  Rita: “That’s not me. I was never there.”

  Carter: “I have a witness who will say you were there. I also have these photos of you at Wayne’s house. He remembers seeing the Claddagh pendant, the same one you’re wearing right now.”

  Rita: “Is this some kind of joke? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Carter: “I don’t think you want to leave just yet. You see, these photos are proof that you were at Wayne’s house. I could go to the police and tell them how you make your living.”

  Rita: “Look, if I tell you the truth, will you promise to leave me alone?”

  Carter: “We’ll see.”

  Rita: “A guy approached me last Thursday morning. He gave me a ticket to that event and said he’d pay me two thousand bucks to flirt with Wayne Miller and get him to take me to his house and have sex. I figured it was like a prank or something. Like maybe his friend just wanted to give him a nice time with a professional.”

  Carter: “Who’s the guy?”

  Rita: “He never told me his name.”

  Carter: “How did he contact you?”

  Rita: “I was having lunch alone at the Cambridge mall and he came right up and sat down at my table. I asked him how he knew me, but he wouldn’t explain. He offered me a lot of money, so I listened to what he had to say. He showed me a picture of Wayne Miller and gave me a ticket to A Flight of Fantasy event. He told me to pretend I was attracted to him so he’d take me back to his house to have sex. I needed the money so I agreed to do it.”

  Carter: “Did you actually have sex with him?”

  Rita: “I tried to, but he couldn’t get it up. As soon as we got to his room, he passed out on the bed. I didn’t stick around. I left around midnight, I guess.”

  Carter: “And you didn’t try to access his computer?”

  Rita: “No.”

  Carter: “Describe the man who hired you. What age?”

  Rita: “Hard to say. Probably in his fifties. Average looking. Brown hair. About six feet tall.”

  Carter: “Had you ever met him before?”

  Rita: “No. I’d never seen the man before and I don’t know how he knew me.”

  Carter: “So he just handed you two thousand dollars, trusting that you’d do the job?”

  Rita: “That’s right. And I haven’t heard from him since.”

  Carter: “Where did he approach you? I need an exact location.”

  Rita: “Cambridge Mall food court. Right in front of Macy’s. There’s a Panini restaurant I like.”

  Carter: “What’s your real name? It’s obviously not Rita Hayworth.”

  Rita: “Why is that important? I already told you what you wanted to know.”

  Carter: “Because I may need to get in touch with you again.”

  Rita: “If the agency found out I took a job and they didn’t get a cut, they’ll fire me. I can’t lose this job. I just can’t.”

  Carter: “I’m not going to tell them about this, you have my word.”

  Rita: “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone in this business. Now, if you’ll excuse me …”

  Carter: “Rita, or whatever your name is, I don’t intend to get you in trouble with anyone, okay? You have my word.”

  Rita: “I don’t want your money. Just don’t ever contact me again.”

  Carter: “Take it. It’s compensation for your time.”


  Rita: “I said I don’t want your money. I just want to leave.”

  Carter: “Go right ahead, then. I’m not stopping you.”

  A few seconds went by and Carter called me on the cell phone. “Sarah, I’m assuming you heard all that. When you see her come out of the lobby, follow her, okay?”

  “You don’t believe her story?”

  “I don’t know what to think. Either way, we still don’t know her real name.”

  “She arrived in a taxi, so I’m assuming that’s how she’ll get home.”

  “Good. Try to stay close to her and call me when she gets home, or wherever she ends up. I’ve already paid for the room so I’ll just hang out here till I hear from you.”

  “Roger that. I think I see her coming out now.” Sure enough, Rita was heading out of the lobby with her trench coat wrapped tightly around her slim figure. She headed straight to the taxi, still parked under the porte cochère. She said something to the taxi driver then opened the back door and got in.

  I started the engine and pulled out into the road, keeping a safe distance behind the taxi, driving through downtown and away from the city heading north. I almost lost them at one point because I got stuck at a red light but I was able to catch up to them at the next signal.

  I could feel the beads of sweat dripping down the side of my face. More from excitement than anything. That’s why, for the most part, I love this job. When things get intense, the rush of adrenaline is almost euphoric.

  Finally, the taxi took the exit for a town called Peabody and I followed it through several neighborhoods until the driver finally stopped in front of a house. I stayed back at least five houses - pulled over to the opposite side and called Carter.

  “The taxi just dropped her off,” I said. “Ready to write down the address?”

  “Yep. What is it?”

  “Seventy-three, Lincoln Avenue. I think we’re in Peabody but I can’t be sure. I’ll take some pictures of the house. There’s a red car in the driveway and it looks like it might be the Mazda.”

  “Great. Nice work, Sarah. Now just stay put and keep watch on her house. I’m going to plug that address into my database program and find out who owns it.”