Read Online The Chase by Janet Evanovich, Lee Goldberg - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janet Evanovich, Lee Goldberg
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Carmichael.”
Carter gave her hand a gentle squeeze and looked her in the eye. “You’re as beautiful today as you were when you were crowned Fresno’s Junior Miss Avocado in 1998.”
“Now you’re just showing off,” Kate said with a smile.
“Guilty as charged,” Carter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I have to screen everybody who comes into my house. You can’t be a former right-hand man to the president and run the world’s leading private security firm without making enemies. Do you have a list of crew members for me?”
Kate handed him a sheet of paper. “The crew is all local except for our unit production manager and our new host.”
Carter passed the paper on to Veronica, who went back into the house. “That should make the background checks fast and easy. Well, now that we’ve got that settled, are you ready for the grand tour?”
“Absolutely,” Nick said.
Carter led them into a two-story circular foyer ringed with a pair of sweeping staircases that dramatically framed the spectacular view of the ocean through the living room windows. Kate could see a thirty-foot center console fishing boat anchored off the shoreline. If she’d had binoculars, she would have seen her father and his old army buddy José Rodarte on deck, drinking beers and watching their lines for bites.
“This entryway is inspired by the Grand Salon of Vaux-le-Vicomte,” Carter said. “The stained glass skylight in the dome depicts Apollo, Bacchus, Venus, and Mercury looking down upon the Earth from the heavens.”
Kate looked up at the skylight and was surprised to see that Carter hadn’t included himself among the gods in stained glass.
“Impressive,” Nick said. “Do you mind if I do some preliminary filming with my iPhone?”
Carter smiled. “Not at all, but I’ll have you killed if you show it to anyone without my permission.”
“A sense of humor!” Nick said. “I like that.”
“No,” Carter said. “I really
will
have you killed.”
He led Kate and Nick down a corridor into what he called his “game room.” It was in fact a full-scale casino packed with dozens of vintage slot machines.
“I needed a place to show off my collection of slots from the fifties and early sixties, so I re-created the Sands Hotel and Casino as it was when Frank, Dean, Sammy, and the rest of the Rat Pack hung out there,” Carter said. “There’s fifty thousand dollars in coins in these machines.”
“This is fun,” Nick said. “All that’s missing is cigarette smoke and the cocktail waitresses.”
“And a gaming license,” Carter said. “I’m the only one who gets to play in here. I can do it for hours. It relaxes me.”
“How often do you win?” Kate asked.
“Even in this casino the odds favor the house. Luckily, the house is also me, or I wouldn’t play.”
Kate had a feeling that was his approach to everything. If things weren’t rigged in his favor, he didn’t participate.
Carter took them through his library, his wine cellar, his ultramodern kitchen, and then turned onto another corridor. He stopped in front of a thick, weather-beaten old door that had clearly battled the elements somewhere for decades and survived.
“This is one of my favorite rooms in the house,” he said.
He grabbed the big iron handle and opened the heavy door, the large hinges creaking from the strain. Nick and Kate stepped past him and walked into an old pub. The walls were mottled brick framed by dark, elaborately carved paneling that was chipped and faded from age. The hardwood floors were scratched, stained, and worn smooth by years of use. The bar was made of thick, honey-colored wood and trimmed with brass. The barstools and booths were upholstered in scratched red leather.
“This was a pub I visited in London. I liked it so much that I bought it, had it dismantled brick by brick, and reconstructed it here,” Carter said. “Everything is original. Nothing is replicated.”
“I love the
Carter gave her hand a gentle squeeze and looked her in the eye. “You’re as beautiful today as you were when you were crowned Fresno’s Junior Miss Avocado in 1998.”
“Now you’re just showing off,” Kate said with a smile.
“Guilty as charged,” Carter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I have to screen everybody who comes into my house. You can’t be a former right-hand man to the president and run the world’s leading private security firm without making enemies. Do you have a list of crew members for me?”
Kate handed him a sheet of paper. “The crew is all local except for our unit production manager and our new host.”
Carter passed the paper on to Veronica, who went back into the house. “That should make the background checks fast and easy. Well, now that we’ve got that settled, are you ready for the grand tour?”
“Absolutely,” Nick said.
Carter led them into a two-story circular foyer ringed with a pair of sweeping staircases that dramatically framed the spectacular view of the ocean through the living room windows. Kate could see a thirty-foot center console fishing boat anchored off the shoreline. If she’d had binoculars, she would have seen her father and his old army buddy José Rodarte on deck, drinking beers and watching their lines for bites.
“This entryway is inspired by the Grand Salon of Vaux-le-Vicomte,” Carter said. “The stained glass skylight in the dome depicts Apollo, Bacchus, Venus, and Mercury looking down upon the Earth from the heavens.”
Kate looked up at the skylight and was surprised to see that Carter hadn’t included himself among the gods in stained glass.
“Impressive,” Nick said. “Do you mind if I do some preliminary filming with my iPhone?”
Carter smiled. “Not at all, but I’ll have you killed if you show it to anyone without my permission.”
“A sense of humor!” Nick said. “I like that.”
“No,” Carter said. “I really
will
have you killed.”
He led Kate and Nick down a corridor into what he called his “game room.” It was in fact a full-scale casino packed with dozens of vintage slot machines.
“I needed a place to show off my collection of slots from the fifties and early sixties, so I re-created the Sands Hotel and Casino as it was when Frank, Dean, Sammy, and the rest of the Rat Pack hung out there,” Carter said. “There’s fifty thousand dollars in coins in these machines.”
“This is fun,” Nick said. “All that’s missing is cigarette smoke and the cocktail waitresses.”
“And a gaming license,” Carter said. “I’m the only one who gets to play in here. I can do it for hours. It relaxes me.”
“How often do you win?” Kate asked.
“Even in this casino the odds favor the house. Luckily, the house is also me, or I wouldn’t play.”
Kate had a feeling that was his approach to everything. If things weren’t rigged in his favor, he didn’t participate.
Carter took them through his library, his wine cellar, his ultramodern kitchen, and then turned onto another corridor. He stopped in front of a thick, weather-beaten old door that had clearly battled the elements somewhere for decades and survived.
“This is one of my favorite rooms in the house,” he said.
He grabbed the big iron handle and opened the heavy door, the large hinges creaking from the strain. Nick and Kate stepped past him and walked into an old pub. The walls were mottled brick framed by dark, elaborately carved paneling that was chipped and faded from age. The hardwood floors were scratched, stained, and worn smooth by years of use. The bar was made of thick, honey-colored wood and trimmed with brass. The barstools and booths were upholstered in scratched red leather.
“This was a pub I visited in London. I liked it so much that I bought it, had it dismantled brick by brick, and reconstructed it here,” Carter said. “Everything is original. Nothing is replicated.”
“I love the
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