Cat In An Alien X-Ray

“It’s just dirt, Miss Barr. It’s been released as a crime scene. The police are perfectly satisfied with my credentials and alibi.”

“The police are never satisfied. They just let you think they are. This is Las Vegas. People here enjoy extravagance and make-believe, but they don’t want to be hoodwinked any more than they are at the gaming tables.”

“This is not hoodwinking.” He stood his ground, planting his cane like a claiming flag. “You have just seen an astounding sight, haven’t you? You have just heard the angels of our better beings singing, like the mermaids, for you. You have been transported.”

Temple remained silent. Finally she said, “It was a pretty good illusion.”

“That’s just it. It wasn’t an illusion. It’s real. I needed to prove that. I needed you to see what I have here.”

She glanced over her shoulder to the Strip. “That fleet of UFOs is fake. Radio controlled.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” he said, swaying on his polished tippytoes in excitement. “Those are meant to be debunked. Rule One of stunt PR. First you raise expectations, then you flatten them, and then you bring them back from the dead to universal applause.”

“All right. My First Rule of Ex-clients. First I evaluate their credibility, then I grade them on a scale of minus-five to zero, and then I kick them off my client list.”

“I had to give you a preview of the attraction, Miss Barr, so you wouldn’t lose faith. So I had to distract all of the Vegas Strip to give you a peek unveiling of my little beauty behind the curtain.”

“Projecting your video concept on the deserted building frame and all that curtaining plastic and canvas is very clever, Mr. Farnum. In fact, a recent project of mine, a new attraction between the Crystal Phoenix and Gangsters, employs ultra-sophisticated audiovisual holographic effects, so don’t think you can pull the pixels over my eyes.”

“Exactly!” Farnum sounded triumphant. “It takes one to know one, and you now know I’m creating the real deal, with more advanced techniques than ever seen before outside of a secret laboratory run on the level of a Stephen Hawking operation. This is not only mind-bending, it is space and time-bending as well. And, after all, isn’t that what aliens are all about?”

“I’m getting a terrible feeling, Mr. Farnum. One of your ‘silent partners’ wouldn’t go by one name?”

“Yes! Brilliant deduction. You are such the right woman for the job. So intuitive.”

“That man is a person of interest in a recent murder in town, and you have him working on a project where a dead body was found?”

“No, that can’t be true.” Farnum was so crestfallen, his five-hair comb-over seemed to shrivel to three. “Domingo has an international reputation.”

“Domingo? He’s not under suspicion of murder,” Temple conceded.

The renowned international environmental artist had come to town before to mass thousands of pink plastic flamingos around the Strip, making a statement about overblown popular taste, but that’s as close to a crime as he’d gotten.

She couldn’t imagine why Domingo would return and expand into fleets of mini-UFOs, but supposed it was another statement, perhaps about the usual suspect: the alienation of modern life.

“I’m not mollified,” Temple told Farnum, “but I can see how Domingo would be interested in a similar stunt … uh, artistic installation.”

“You do know ‘spin,’ Miss Barr.” He produced a happy grin. “However, even better, Domingo is not the only international cutting-edge figure involved in my project.”

“Oh?”

“Indeed. My other silent partner is as serious as Domingo, but in an allied field.”

Well, that had her stumped.

Farnum literally tucked his thumbs under his seersucker suit lapels in the tried and true pose of pride. “His name is Santiago.”

And that guy was under suspicion of murder.

Chapter 23

All at Sea

The pool was cool but felt like silk.

Matt pulled himself through the water, arm over arm, like pulling a liquid rope toward and past him. The underwater lights created a turquoise spring at either end that drew him like an aquatic moth. Then he pushed off the solid poolside and pulled into the second half of the lap, performing like a thread on a loom.

Swimming had always seemed a form of meditation to him, and it reminded him to breathe, deep and steady.

He pondered the Crystal Phoenix reception and the uneasy undercurrent he had sensed there, apart from the petty crime being committed … and revealed. Then he’d kissed Temple good night, more out of despair than passion, and she’d responded so intensely, it had driven him crazy because he couldn’t be with her when he wanted to … and he’d said something crazy and horrible and left her to move on to two hours surfing waves of everybody else’s pain coming over the telephone and spreading across the country. He’d finally topped off an angst-ridden evening with a wee-hour overdose of Kathleen O’Connor.

He’d left a profoundly apologetic message on Temple’s cell phone, and hoped he could atone in the morning, which would soon be here.