Spencer pulled up in his Audi SUV. His Maserati was safely stashed at his vacation home in Cabo. No need to put his things on display. At least, not all of them. His Piaget watch, Gucci loafers, and Tom Ford suits were enough for his everyday needs. He tossed his keys to the valet and approached Max with a big smile on his face. “What’s the crunch, bro?”
“Inside.” Max nodded toward the door. “I need a drink.”
“Whoa. Easy, buddy.”
Max walked to a small cocktail table at the far end of the bar. He nodded to the waitress to follow them. She smiled as they made their way to a section of privacy. “What can I get you?” she smiled.
“Glenlivet, two fingers, neat.”
“Oh, come on buddy. You can do better than that,” Spencer said, smiling. He turned to the waitress. “Make it two Macallans, two fingers, neat.” When the waitress walked away, he leaned back into the soft leather booth, folded his arms, and stretched his legs past the small, low table. “As I was saying, what is the crunch, bro?”
“I had a visit from Robert Hannah this afternoon.” Max waited and watched the waitress return with their drinks. “Thank you.” As soon as she was out of earshot, he continued. “He told me to kill the bill.”
Gerber sat straight up. “Wh—why?” His baffled voice cracked.
“Apparently there’s been an ongoing audit. Constituents want to know where their tax dollars are going, and the oversight committee decided some oversight might be in order.”
Gerber’s earlier mood took a nosedive. “Like what kind?”
“Like the kind that discovered many long-term care facilities have not renewed their licenses. He alluded that some may not have one at all.”
“But we have all the paperwork,” Gerber grumbled.
“Do we? Have you seen any of it?”
“Well, no. That’s what Edith and Janet are for.” He took a long swig.
“In addition to running our end of the operation,” Max added, “we had to lay off a few people.”
“Yeah, including that nosy pharmacist. What was his name, Spikes?”
“Sykes,” Max corrected him. “His accident is still an open investigation.”
“Ah. We’ll manage the locals. A quick, glad-hand visit will take care of it.”
“Running people off the road was not part of the plan, Spencer. And it happened twice,” Max reminded him.
“Do you really think anyone is going to make the connection?” He chuckled. “Besides, it wasn’t meant to kill them. Just rattle them a bit.”
“To what end, Spencer?” Max was beginning to think his colleague was showing signs of sociopathic behavior.
“My end. Our end.” He chugged the remaining scotch. “You need to learn how to relax.” He patted Max on the shoulder.
“But we are running out of money. Your mini drug ring can barely keep the lights on, and now that’s on hold. Which reminds me, the electric bills for the long-term centers are rather high. Ask Edith and Janet to check them out.”
That was one thing Spencer was not about to do. No need to get other people worked up over a Nervous Nellie’s issue.
Myra had settled into her villa. With Izzie working in the admin office, and Yoko on landscaping, they didn’t have an inside person for the long-term care center. She knew that Izzie was able to reroute their CCTV system to the War Room, so there should be footage of the inside. She sat at the glass dining room table and opened her laptop. She logged into the mainframe and accessed the folder for the interior CCTV of the care center on the other side of the complex. It was empty.
“That’s odd,” she said out loud. She sent a text to Charles to have him confirm what she was looking at.
He quickly responded:Confirmed. Interior appears to be empty.
Myra realized that Izzie and Yoko were going to have to check it out in person. Now she needed to determine her own next steps. She thought of Annie having dinner with Janet Turner and picked up her phone to call Edith Clayton.
“Hello, Edith. Myra Regan.”
“Is everything alright?” Edith asked excitedly.
