Vanishing Point - Marc Cerasini [34]
Lilly hesitated, then nodded. Jack, mindful of their seedy surroundings, took them straight to a remote booth near an oasis of fake palm trees and a flock of plastic pink flamingoes. The waitress appeared at Jack's shoulder. She wore a bikini top, grass skirt, and sneakers.
"Nancy, the young ladies will have ginger ales... Make it three."
The drinks appeared in under a minute.
"How are things at the Babylon?" Jack asked.
Lilly curled her nose. "Big political event tonight. I'm doing double duty, hostess and server. It's a nice gig with extra money attached." While she spoke, Lilly fished in her tiny purse until she found her cell phone. Still talking, she checked her messages. "Sorry, Jaycee. I'm waiting to hear from my babysitter."
She slipped the cell back into her purse.
Pamela seemed intrigued by the fake flamingoes, left the booth to get a better look. Jack leaned closer to Lilly.
"So," he said softly. "You think it's wise for Stella to go over to Hugo's garage, after she dumped him for me?"
Lilly adjusted her pink blouse. "Stella and Hugo, they're friendly. I mean, I don't know what goes on between you and Hugo, but Bix seems civilized. And Stella steers business his way..."
She suddenly covered her mouth. "Oh, crap! Maybe I wasn't supposed to say anything about that."
Jack reassured her immediately. "Our relationship is personal, not business," he said. "It's just that Hugo's been messing with me. I don't want him messing with Stella."
Lilly looked away, sipped her drink.
Jack reached into his pocket. "Here, Lilly, I want you to take this," he said, displaying one of Jager's business cards. He turned it over. On the back was another number, written in his own handwriting.
"That's my personal cell phone number," he explained. "If I don't pick up, a guy named Morris O'Brian will. If Stella gets into a jam, or if you ever get into trouble, give me a call."
Lilly accepted Jaycee's card, but her expression said it all — the last thing she felt she needed was another sympathy play from a lowlife gangster who was banging her roommate.
"There you are."
Jack and Lilly looked up. Stella had arrived. She was as put together as she'd been when she arrived. Dress in place, makeup perfect.
"Ready to go, Lil?"
"Sure," Lilly said, jumping up. "I'll just fetch Pamela."
Stella Hawk watched her roommate chase after her daughter. "She dotes on that brat," Stella said with a sigh.
"Will I see you later?" Jacked asked, wrapping his arm around Stella's waist.
"Depends," Stella replied, peeling his hand away.
Lilly appeared with Pamela in tow. "Say goodbye to Mr. Jager," Lilly prompted.
"Nice to meet you, Pamela," said Jack.
"Bye, Mr. Jager. Thank you for the soda," Pamela replied.
"Later, lover," Stella said, blowing Jack a kiss.
* * *
3:28:58 p.m. PDT
Bix Automotive Center
Browne End Road, Las Vegas
An industrial area sparsely populated by air conditioning contractors and electrical engineering services, Bix Automotive Center dominated this remote and sandy stretch of Browne End Road. The garage itself was the largest building on the block, and two adjacent lots on either side were ringed with twelve foot chain link fence that protected a decade's worth of auto shop debris — stripped down car frames, engine blocks, broken axles, rusty radiators, mismatched hubcaps, and old tires stacked like poker chips.
A mammoth cinderblock rectangle constructed in the late 1950s, the windowless interior of the automotive center reeked of grease, worn rubber, waste oil and hot metal. It didn't help the unsavory atmosphere that the garage doors were closed and locked tight, or that the bustling interior was crowded with five large trucks — all of them late-model Dodge Sprinters — and a dozen mechanics working them over.
Hugo Bix presided over the chaos from his office on the mezzanine — really a ramshackle wooden shack on stilts, with a flight of metal stairs leading to the only door. For the rising Vegas crime lord, this was shaping up