Carole Douglas - Cat in a Zebra Zoot Suit

“That’s a great idea, Electra. And what they don’t know, the guys’ uncle, Macho Mario Fontana does. He has true mob associations from his distant past to call on.”

The prolific Fontana family exploited a vague aura of faded “mob”, but was most noted for its crew of sleek, mostly bachelor men-about-town. Besides Nicky, the youngest brother who operated the Crystal Phoenix, the other nine brothers ran a mob-themed hotel and custom limo service, both called Gangsters. You need to go for a ride in Vegas? Fontana Inc. will provide with panache. It was all a harmless take on family history.

Electra turned to eye the diminished billboard, too distant to read now. “I have to check my files too. I’m foggy on where my property ends, since I left a bunch of it undeveloped.”

“You mean that outfit may not have all the rights they’re claiming?”

Electra’s custodial hand squeezed Temple’s forearm.

“I mean I do have some hidden resources.” Electra winked. “Don’t worry about me now. It’s a good thing you’re slated for a family visit in Minnesota so you young folks can settle where you need to be once you’re married. You’ve given me an idea or two.”

“Really? I am distracted with this trip coming up so fast. Our Mr. Leon Nemo was more than vague on the zoning question. Even if this was a sealed deal, I’m sure you’ll find a way to make Lust ‘n’ Lace’s excursion into live entertainment…history.” Temple gazed around again. “Say. Where’s Louie?”

“I saw him snooping around the construction office in the RV after Nemo left. I’m thinking he’s smelled something fishy about that outfit too.”

“Especially under that aluminum temporary foundation surrounding the RV,” Temple said. “So if the cat’s away, maybe we mice should play.”

Electra stared at the abandoned hulk. “I’m dying to see what Nemo and his silent partners think is so valuable about this building Jay owns. Let’s explore.”

8

Off Market

“What a dump,” Temple said once they were through the double entrance doors, using an iconic Bette Davis line from an old movie.

“ Beyond the Forest ,” Electra said.

“What?”

“The name of the movie Bette Davis said that ‘dump’ line in. I saw it.”

“In first run?”

“No, on Turner Classic Movies , silly. I’d have to be a zillion years old to have seen the first run.” Electra looked around and bit her lip. “The building does look awful stripped down and empty.”

“Dump” was too good a word for the interior space.

The exterior looked like an abandoned factory, but they hadn’t realized the second-story windows had been painted over. They stood inside a dim, gray cube divided into smaller dim gray interior cubes facing onto a wide central aisle.

Temple gazed up the central staircase to the second floor and the dust-dulled giant glass chandelier overhanging. The U-shaped second-story balcony overlooked the wide central aisle downstairs. Most of the temporary walls that divided vendor spaces were still up, creating an impression of ticky-tacky one-room housing units in endless rows on two stories, like jail cells.

“So sad.” Electra shook her head, her fanciful hair the only vivid color in a place of concrete floors and naked cinder-block walls. “All the dealers gave their spaces and the dividers so much personality when it was an antique mall. Cornelia used a folding screen with fabric panels to suspend her vintage hats, all velvet and feathers. Georgia kept a huge stuffed black panther over there. It was studded with a rainbow of rhinestone pins. Hank used stackable cubes to hold his old chrome toasters and other quaint appliances. Everything shone and sparkled and radiated new life for old things.”

“What’s the story on the ten-foot-long chandelier?” Temple turned her neck back as far as it would go to take in the tower of dusty glass that hung over the top of the stairs, and over her and Electra, like an elegant unused guillotine.

“It was from some old movie. George never sold it because he wanted four thousand dollars for it.”

“He just left it here when the mall closed down?”

“I think he made a deal with the woman who rented the building after that. It would be murderously hard to move.”

“All these funky items were a hop-scotch jump away from the Circle Ritz, and a vintage-hound like me never got a whiff of its existence? I must be losing my touch.”

“You’ve been a little busy, dear, with your job and the occasional diverting murder and the always diverting two beaux.” Electra sighed. “I once needed to juggle boyfriends myself.”

“Well, one of them has diverted himself out of the country, so I’m finally and inexorably and permanently a one-man woman.”

“I find that a bit…boring, to be honest.”

“You had—what?—five husbands. That was more than diverting, Electra, it smacks of being hooked on weddings.”

“I finally did find a way to have as many weddings as I wanted without all the messy men-stuff involved.” Electra winked and patted her hair. “I’ve told you before that some of my generation had Elizabeth Taylor disease.”

Temple’s wrinkled brow prompted an explanation. “If we liked a man and he liked us, we married him, to avoid any example of wrong-doing.”

“Even if the man was married to someone else first, I suppose. Did you know Elizabeth Taylor quoted that Bette Davis ‘dump’ line in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf ?”

“No, but I’m sure that Elizabeth Taylor wasn’t afraid of any wolf in Hollywood. Anyway, the antique mall went under before you gifted Las Vegas with your presence. A woman who provided Strip shows with costumes and wigs then used this place as a storage facility for a short while.”

“Even worse!” Temple exclaimed. “I’d have loved to see her collection of all that glittery stuff. The costume department was my drug of choice when I did PR for the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. Ah, the scent of the grease paint and rhinestone glue, the roar of the crowd and the rustle of the costumes.”

“I guess that Vegas was your cup of cake, then, even though your family felt that Max had ‘dragged’ you away with him to Sin City.”

“My family was more than a smidge overprotective of the only girl, and I was also the youngest. I needed an escape clause and Max—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I’d sign on the dotted line with him in a heartbeat. Poor boy. Aced out now. If you and Matt move to Chicago, it’d be nice to have him back at the Circle Ritz.”

“I don’t even want to think about that! What I need to think about is Matt and my looming trip to Minnesota. My family has been beastly to any boy who’s been involved with me since Terrence Schulenberger as a maple leaf danced around my daisy face in the kindergarten program.”

“You’d make an adorable daisy! I don’t see Matt, or Max, as a maple leaf, though.”

“Electra! I’m asking advice here, since you’ve gone through the engagement process five times. Should I wear this Art Deco engagement ring Matt bought me from Fred Leighton’s at the Bellagio? Maybe I should slip on a more modest Midwestern ring for the trip.”

Electra grabbed Temple’s left hand to study the scintillating flash of dueling diamonds and rubies, of ice and fire. “Fred Leighton? That’s where the movie stars shop. How much did it cost?”

Temple retrieved her hand. “More than you should know, or I should wear without carrying a gun. Just think. This from the man who talked his talent agent into committing a portion of his commission along with Matt’s assigning ten percent of his fees to charitable causes. I don’t know what he was thinking when he splurged on this.”