Page 21 of Homicide in Water Creek

She stared at her boots, trying to work it out as she spoke. “Maybe I’m just tired, but why would she go to Vegas only to fly back to a beach in California when she lives in California?”

There was silence, and when she glanced up, he was staring at the wall behind her. “They had a cast party in Vegas, from what the agent told me.”

“Oh, okay. See, tired.”

“Actually, it’s been bothering me.”

“What has?”

“How did she get to Vegas? Her car was parked at home, and her agent said she met them there, so she didn’t ride with any of them.” King ran a hand over his face, showing her he was just as tired as she was.

Jacks shrugged. “She took an Uber to the airport, then a flight. This isn’t hard.”

He held up his finger. “But it’s hard because we can’t find her on any flight. You can’t fly under a false identity anymore. There would be proof that Vonita King flew from Hollywood to Vegas if she had. She always flew under her own name, including the flight she missed from Vegas back to California.”

“Was she at the cast party?” Jacks asked suddenly. “Did anyone see her there?”

“She showed up for a few hours, then left. They never saw her again. She told everyone she was going casino-hopping, so they didn’t think anything of it when she didn’t show up in the morning.”

“Sounds like Vegas is only a place to start, not necessarily the final destination.”

He sighed and let out a breath. “Yeah, I was trying to be optimistic a few minutes ago, but you had to go and ruin that.”

“Apparently, I’m good at ruining things,” she muttered.

King tenderly grasped her wrist. “Stop. I won’t allow you to talk about yourself that way. I was kidding. You didn’t ruin anything. You actually helped me flesh out the holes I could see but couldn’t fill.”

She nodded, deciding it was better to let their personal problems go for now until they sorted out the Vonita problem. “No luck connecting Chinos and Vonita?” His head shook again, and she sighed, tapping her phone on her leg. “We have to get out in front of this. We can’t wait until morning.”

His chin dropped to his chest as he let out a puff of air. “What are you suggesting?”

“I’m suggesting we record a statement now and send it to the stations. Then we go home to sleep and come back in the morning.”

“We?”

Jacks motioned around the space. “Yeah, we. You said it yourself. You have a murder to solve and the Chinos situation to handle. You need me at that desk, fielding calls in the morning. Granddaddy and the ranch hands can handle the rodeo cowboys for a few hours until I get back. I’d rather clear Vonita off your docket so you can figure out what Chinos wants.”

King pointed at her as he stood up from the desk. “Okay, let’s play this your way. Come help me prepare the statement.”

He waved her into his office, where they sat and went over what he would say, what he wouldn’t say, and how he would say it. Since it was dark, they decided to record him at his desk, then email the video to the major local stations and send it out on the wire. Before that could happen, he had a few phone calls to make, namely to Vonita’s agent in California and to his granddaddy. She could see in his eyes how much he didn’t want to make either call, so she stood and picked up her phone from the desk.

“I’ll call Keene and Jackson while you call her agent.”

King reached for her. “Jacks, I don’t want you calling Keene at midnight. He won’t take kindly to it, especially if you’re calling about Vonita.”

When Jacks tugged on her arm, he finally let go, knowing better than to hold her in place. “He can kiss my tiny whit—” He lowered his brow until she sighed. “Fine. I don’t care what he thinks. I’m calling him with an abbreviated version of what’s about to happen so he’s not taken by surprise. That’s the fair thing to do.”

“He wasn’t fair to you, Jacks. You don’t have to be fair to him.”

“I can’t be petty when we’re talking about his safety. I don’t want him waking up to a group of reporters on his front porch. Regardless of what we say, that’s a possibility, so just shut up and let me call him.”

Storming out of King’s office, Jacks sat at the receptionist's desk. Line one was already lit up, which meant he was calling the agent, so she decided to use her cell. She dialed the number and waited while it rang.

“What’s wrong with Jackson?” was the only response on the other end.

“Keene?”

“Who else would it be, girl?” he asked, his usual grumpiness firmly in place.