A burly six-foot giant patted Rex down, his hands moving under his armpits, then along his legs. Rex felt confident. This poker game is gonna matter—it’ll help solve the investigation.
He knew he'd come to the right place because the guy, a bouncer or a bodyguard, looked exactly like the guy he'd seen in his inner vision at Three Bunch. "Having fun?” Rex asked. "Try my shoes. Just in case I have a knife."
"Don't tell me my job," the man muttered. Then he stood to his full height.
"You're a big guy. Work out?" Rex kept his voice deliberately playful to offset how nervous he felt. He also knew that once he got to know everyone in the room, he'd be able to do some mind shaping. Then he could ask questions and find out why everyone had it out for Joey Baker. In his way of thinking, Beverly and Pete were the most likely suspects.
"This way," the man muttered. He stepped back, waiting for Rex to walk in front of him. Down the hallway, Rex pursed his lips to whistle a few notes. My bright and sunny demeanor will keep them off balance.
"Sit there." The burly guy pointed to a chair in the hallway.
Rex complied, taking a moment to think about an earlier conversation. He'd spent an hour briefing with Sutton before arriving at the poker game. Though he knew that Viv was worried, Sutton had no concerns. "It's just another op," she'd told him, straightening his bow tie. "You sure you don't want a camera? I could tuck it right under this knot."
"Come on, you know they'll find it right away. The thug who does the pat downs. It would make his day and give me away, and most of all make my job a lot harder. I'm going in clean and sober and camera-free. No wires either," Rex added. "Have to use my wit and intelligence for this one."
Sutton rolled her eyes. "Will you be reading every player or just Frank?” She stepped away, so he turned to admire himself in the full-length mirror.
Rex ignored her question, mesmerized with his appearance. "What does that guy on TV say? The one who's the writer who's in love with a cop…" He grinned at his reflection. "Castle. That's it. Let me quote him: 'I really am ruggedly handsome.'"
"And you're not Nathan Fillion," Sutton muttered. "I saw him once at Just Desserts. He's even better in person. A lot younger too."
Rex knew it was best not to let Sutton know how nervous he felt. I'm invited to a card game with a bunch of thugs. Not my usual gig. Ever since the invitation he'd felt unsettled. But he'd made light of it so as not to alarm Viv. And now Sutton was getting all overly protective. A camera? Please.
Half an hour later he was out his front door. On the way down the sidewalk, he glanced toward Viv's front window. I'd much rather be hanging out with her than playing poker with the desert mafia. He'd started calling the HOA that in his own mind.
Half a block later he nearly collided with the woman with her baby stroller. She wore earbuds and a grim expression. He smiled and stopped. "Mind if I see your baby?" he said in a friendly voice. To his surprise, she shoved the stroller off the curb into the street.
"He's asleep," she told him.
"Maybe another time," he’d called after her, walking briskly away.
"Hey, Redondo." A voice now interrupted his thoughts. A woman greeted him. "Right on time. Come this way."
Rex stood with an ingratiating smile. "Hey there. I'm here for the game."
"I know," she said sharply. "Stop talking. Then hand over your phone. Then take a step to the right and hold out your arms."
He handed her his cell, submitting to the second pat down. She ran her hands over his chest and then under his armpits. Then she spread out her hands to run down his back, lingering at his belt. Kneeling to run her hands down both sides of his legs without a smile or a nod.
Finally the woman pulled a clear metal detector from her back pocket. She spent a very long time using it to circle his crotch. "Clear," she announced. Then she pointed to a chair. "Sit there for now." Once he was seated, she left him, finding her place behind the bar.
Across the expansive room, four familiar men sat around a large round table. Even without the HOA name signs, Rex knew he'd come to the right place. HOA guys. Just like I thought. Frank, Sammy, Peter, and Dean. But it was the three empty seats that drew his attention. One for me and one for Joey; who gets the other one? His heart quickened.
The men acted as if he wasn’t in the room. They continued to talk among themselves.
"Good evening," he called toward the table. At first no one acknowledged him. But then Frank Salucci looked up.
"Come grab a seat at the table," Frank finally told him. "Glad you could come.” His hand reached over his head as he snapped his fingers. "Bring him an IPA," he said. The woman who'd recently run the wand over his crotch pulled up a bottle and opened it. Rex stood to take the bottle from her hand.
"You know my brand." He stared at the familiar label with a black Labrador.
"It's my job to know everyone in this neighborhood," she said.
Salucci called from across the room, "Do you think I don't do my homework before I invite a guy to my table? Do you think I'm stupid?" Rex heard the defensiveness in his voice. He also knew he was being tested.
Rex took a small sip. He'd nurse that bottle all night. He didn't know how Salucci knew what he drank, but he wasn't exactly surprised. Not that hard to ask around, especially at the casino.
Rex loosened his shoulders to take on a nonchalant pose. He sauntered closer to the table.
Salucci glared. "I expect people to answer my questions when I ask them. Do you assume I'm stupid? That I wouldn't know you lived in this neighborhood? I recognized you right away when you and the dame came to the HOA meeting."
Rex realized that he was tap dancing around Salucci's trigger, at least one of them. Everyone was expected to respond to Frank with answers he wanted to hear, even if they had to lie.
Yet Rex also knew that Salucci would respect him more if he refused to be intimidated. So he shrugged and took another sip of beer.
Salucci jumped to his feet. Face red, eyes narrow, he growled under his breath. "What are you lookin’ at?"
Rex glanced over his shoulder, expecting to feel a gun in the back of his head. He spoke calmly. "Actually I'm expecting that tall woman to show me her gun. And then point it right here." Rex grinned as he tapped the back of his head. "Not a bad way to go, if you know what I mean. She's very attractive."
Salucci's face turned redder.
"Come on, Frank," Rex coaxed, "that was pretty funny. You gotta admit. Lighten up or I'll think you're a real gangster.”
With the woman behind him and the burly guy next to him, Rex smiled. He looked as if he didn't have a care in the world. Salucci tightened his lips into a thin angry line. Then he muttered, "Funny guy." The oversized bouncer took that as a cue. He came closer to hold out Salucci's chair.
Once Frank was settled, he addressed Rex. "Okay, smart guy. I'm done with the small talk. Take another sip and then let’s you and me have a private conversation outside."
"I could use some fresh air." Rex stood.
Outside, Rex admired the backyard. The sound of water splashing into the spa caught his attention. The spa was big enough for a dozen people.
"You like it?" Salucci's voice sounded harsh, ominous and intense. "Maybe someday you could come over and have a dip with me and a few friends." He leaned closer to Rex. "When you aren't playing footsie with your next-door neighbor."
"Not impossible." Rex used his most charming voice. He hoped the alarm would not show on his face. So he knows we're friends. Instead of stepping back, he leaned in. With a quick exhale of his breath, he shifted his fear into energy. That's the stuff, he said to himself.
A slow smile crept over Salucci's lips. "Like I said earlier, you're a funny guy. And that's why I'm gonna break one of my rules. Just for you. Give you a second chance, since you’re mental and all."
"I'm a mentalist," Rex corrected him. "Very different than just being mental, though I'm probably that too, to be honest." He drew his face into a bland expression, watching Salucci's reaction.
“Ha-ha, I like that. A guy who doesn't take himself too seriously. Well let's just say, pretty boy, your act the other night—with Beverly—that impressed me. I heard about it; Pete told me everything. I don't know many who'd stand up to that woman. So now I want you to do something for me."
“Why would I do that?" Rex asked.
"Because you owe me," he said flatly.