CHAPTER ELEVEN The Picture Changes

WITHIN MINUTES, BESS, GEORGE, AND I were back in the small room off the larger security center of the casino, where we had first viewed the video footage on a laptop. This time, we had Xavier standing behind us as Flora typed onto the laptop herself.

“I’m sorry we didn’t notice this earlier,” Flora said, cueing up a video. “I hope, when you see it, you’ll understand why.”

She pressed play and the image began moving. It was from inside a huge parking garage—the one beneath the Soar, I assumed. Two large men exited a door marked STAIRWAY D and looked around warily. When they shifted their positions, I gasped. It was easy to miss, but they were leading—more like dragging—a smaller figure between them. The smaller figure had an LA Dodgers cap pulled down, obscuring her face and hair, but her outfit was the same one Veronica had put on when she’d changed in the restroom near the observation deck.

“Veronica,” Bess breathed. “Oh my gosh. Deanna was right!”

As the larger men pulled the smaller person along, it became clear that her hands were bound. For one split second, she raised her head to maneuver around a parked pickup truck, and we could see the expression on her face.

It was undoubtedly Veronica, still in her older-lady disguise. And she looked terrified.

“Stairway D doesn’t have any security cameras,” Flora explained. “It’s mainly used by staff. And the new baseball cap on Veronica made it easy to miss her. But it does appear that she didn’t leave the Soar willingly.”

We all fell silent, staring at the video, which now showed the men loading Veronica into a white van and driving away. Xavier broke our silence with a cry.

“What are you going to do about this?” he demanded, turning to the police. “Here’s hard evidence that the love of my life was abducted and dragged out of this casino. And because we just found this, they’ve had a whole day to do whatever it is they planned on doing!”

“She could be in Mexico by now,” George agreed, shaking her head. When Xavier turned to her, looking devastated, she whispered, “Sorry… but she could.”

The police officers were a middle-aged Latina woman with short, curly hair whose badge read LOPEZ, and a young white guy with a blond crew cut whose badge read WHIPPLE. The woman stepped forward. “Look,” she said, “we can imagine how you feel. This has been a tricky case since the beginning, because we couldn’t be sure that your fiancée didn’t leave on her own terms. This video casts things in a different light. We’ll step up our efforts, of course. It’s a shame we can’t see the license plate in this video, because that would give us a way in.”

“We’ll keep looking,” Flora promised. “It’s possible another camera caught it on its way out. But I can’t make promises.”

Officer Whipple nodded. “We’ll keep trying to identify the men, too,” he promised. “Flora found some additional footage of them on the third floor, where it looks like they were waiting for Veronica. Mr. Redd, again, just to be sure, you have no idea who these men could be?”

Xavier turned to him and shook his head dramatically. “I told you, I have no idea. I don’t know anybody in Vegas, and I definitely don’t know anyone who looks like that.”

Officer Lopez stepped toward him. “Is there anyone you can think of who’d want to hurt you?” she asked gently. “Or Veronica? Anyone who might be looking for revenge?”

Xavier stared at her, looking pained, and then groaned and shook his head. “No! I don’t have enemies, man!” he cried. “Neither does Veronica! I can’t imagine why anyone would do this. That’s what makes this all so hard to take.”

I cleared my throat and turned awkwardly to Xavier. “What about Arlo?” I asked.

Xavier scowled. He looked upset that I was even suggesting Arlo might have had something to do with it.

“I know, I know,” I said quickly. “He’s an old friend. But his speech at the rehearsal dinner seemed—I don’t know—bitter, maybe? Is he maybe a little resentful that you started the Redd Zone without him?”

Xavier seemed to consider that, then shook his head almost sadly. “No, he isn’t. Arlo has a weird sense of humor. He and I are tough on each other. But that’s my brother, man. Besides, he was with me every second of the wedding day. He couldn’t have been setting this up.”

“It’s possible that these men could be working for someone,” Officer Lopez said, gesturing to the now-paused video. “It would only take a few seconds to text or call and set this in motion. Could your friend have set this up in advance, or…”

“No!” Xavier shouted, cutting her off. “Look, everyone thinks Arlo is up to something because he’s just out of prison. But he’s on probation, man. He has to check in with his parole officer all the time. And he could get in a lot of trouble for talking to hit men or goons or whoever the heck you hire to kidnap a grown woman. I just know he didn’t do it. And every second you spend on him is going to take time away from finding whoever really has Veronica.”

I stared at Xavier for a moment, then looked at Bess and George. They looked as thoughtful as I felt. Was Xavier really sure he could trust his friend so completely? Or did he know Arlo didn’t do it because Xavier was the one who did?

Officer Whipple put a hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Look, we’re going to find her.”

Xavier shook his head, looking at the ground. “I knew it,” he said. “I told you all. Veronica would never have left me on purpose! Our love is real!”

Officer Lopez shared a glance with Officer Whipple, then nodded encouragingly. “Don’t worry, Mr. Redd,” she said. “We’ll find your fiancée.”

“Wife,” Xavier cut in quickly, still facing the floor. “Veronica is my wife.”

The rest of us exchanged confused looks. We all knew the wedding hadn’t happened. Is he okay?

“Well, she would have been,” Flora countered. “I guess I’m confused. You never actually exchanged vows, did you?”

Xavier looked up at us then. His face was dead serious. “No, she was my wife,” he said simply. “Legally, emotionally, however you want to put it. It was her idea. She’s not always comfortable with my whole…” He made a vague jazz-hands sort of gesture. “Social media presence,” he finished awkwardly.

George gave him a pointed look. “What does that have to do with you getting married?” she asked.

Xavier met her gaze and sighed. “She was afraid the wedding would be too much of a spectacle,” he explained. “You know, with the extreme sports and posting it all for our followers. She said she wanted a moment that was just for us. So yeah, we had a private wedding a couple of weeks ago on the lakeshore in Chicago.”

Bess threw up her hands. “You’re already married? You got married before your wedding?”

George looked thoughtful. “It’s actually sort of… romantic,” she murmured.

“It was,” Xavier agreed. “Just us, two witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

It did sound romantic. But my mind was going in another direction entirely. It was going back to our conversation just before the police banged on our door… about why Veronica had been so upset the night before. About the switched suits. About the looming bankruptcy.

About how Veronica’s death could possibly benefit Xavier.

I coughed. “Sorry… this was a legal marriage?” I pressed. “You and Veronica really are husband and wife?”

“Absolutely,” Xavier replied. “Why get married if it’s not legal?”

I glanced over at Bess and George and managed to catch George’s eye. She looked pensive, and then suddenly her eyes widened. I could tell she was putting together exactly what I was.

If Xavier and Veronica were already married… he could have a life insurance policy out on her. And if she dies, he gets a hefty check… and all of Redd Zone’s problems are solved.

She elbowed Bess and gave her a knowing look. I watched as Bess seemed to get it too, her mouth dropping open.

Then they both looked at me. Bess gave me a stare that seemed to burn into my skin. Say something, she mouthed. You have to.

I did. She was right. But how, right here, in front of Xavier? I cleared my throat, trying to work up the courage.

“There’s, uh, someth—” I began.

But almost immediately, I was cut off by a blaring ringtone. Xavier shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his smartphone, then frowned at the screen.

He held up his index finger to the cops. “Sorry,” he said. “I need to take this. Give me just a minute.”

And before anybody could say anything, he’d ducked out of the room.

Officer Lopez looked at me. “Were you saying something, miss?” she asked.

Miss. Wow, the police usually talk to me like I’m a kid. “I was,” I said, nodding and screwing up my courage. “See, I’m sort of a part-time sleuth. Not professionally, but, like, it’s just who I am? Anyway, I’ve been doing some investigating of my own, and I think there’s something you should know….”