The Heist

said.
    “You had lobster and a midair massage.”
    “You are missing the practical aspects.”
    “I certainly am,” she said, stopping outside the door to her first-floor room, which was conveniently located next to the ice maker and the vending machines. She was certain that if Stony Peak Lodge had a presidential suite, Nick was in it.
    “I flew straight into St. Louis on a private jet, thus avoiding an international commercial flight and the chance of being recognized at customs in New York, where they are on heightened alert for terrorists and felons. Things go much smoother on a private VIP level, especially in smaller international airports in midwestern cities. I rented a car as Nicolas Raider and drove here. So Count Lippe, in essence, disappeared upon arrival in St. Louis. And by using the Raider alias, I quietly checked us in with Bolton, who certainly knows by now that we’re both back home and on the job.”
    Kate couldn’t argue with the practicality or logic behind his choices, though she really wished that she could. His reasoning demonstrated to her why he’d evaded arrest for so long. There was more going on beneath the surface of his actions, even the ones that seemed frivolous or indulgent, than she’d ever realized. She appreciated the knowledge. It would make it easier to catch him next time.
    Nick checked his watch. “We have two tickets to the seven P.M. show of
Death of Salesman
, so you’d better get ready.”
    “Tonight?”
    “We aren’t on vacation here,” he said. “We have a job to do. I thought you were indefatigable.” He looked at her chest. “Is that ketchup?”
    “Yes.”
    “It’s a good color on you. You should wear red more often.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind. What’s the dress code tonight?”
    “Missouri black tie,” Nick said. “No shirt, no shoes, no service.”
    Country Mama’s Buffet & Theater was located next door to the Stony Peak Lodge. The hostess who seated Kate and Nick told them to help themselves to the buffet, enjoy the show, and have a blessed meal.
    Kate didn’t think a blessing was going to be nearly enough to save them from what they were facing. Everything at Country Mama’s was fried, breaded, cheesed, and noodled, including the desserts. She thought it was no wonder most of the diners prayed before they ate. What the buffet really needed wasn’t blessings or prayers but a team of paramedics on standby and a priest on hand to perform last rites. And Kate couldn’t wait to dig in.
    “Yum,” Kate said, “this looks fantastic.”
    Nick grinned. “Go for it.”
    She came back to their table with a mountain of fried chicken, broccoli noodle casserole, hash brown casserole, fried corn bread, buttermilk biscuits, fried shrimp, an oozing glob of grits, fried okra, and dumplings. All smothered in gravy.
    “That looks like the artery-clogging special,” Nick said to Kate.
    “I have excellent genes,” Kate said. “No one in my family has ever had heart disease. We all die from unfortunate circumstance. Like my Uncle Stump got run over by a cement truck. And my Aunt Jean was struck by lightning.”
    “That didn’t turn up in my research on you.”
    Kate glanced at his plate. No food. “You obviously didn’t bring me here because you like the cuisine,” she said. “So why
are
we here?”
    “We’re here for the show.”
    Kate dug in to her broccoli noodle casserole and looked over at the makeshift stage set up against the far wall of the huge dining room. Someone had hung a crudely painted canvas backdrop of a living room and placed a couple pieces of worn-out furniture on the wood riser.
    Halfway into the dessert course Kate paused to listen to the cast introductions. Boyd Capwell, as Willy Loman, was the headliner. All the others were local amateurs. As far as Kate could tell, none of the diners had much interest in the production. Conversation continued after the show started, and the actors were frequently obscured by people passing the stage to make trips to the buffet line.
    “This is horrible,” Kate whispered to Nick, wishing she had the nerve to scuttle in front of the stage for another piece of pie. “This is the worst acting
ever
.”
    “Concentrate on Boyd Capwell. I stumbled on Boyd performing three roles in
Equus
in a hotel dinner theater in Billings, Montana, after some cast members were sidelined with food poisoning. Boyd actually managed to pull it off, delivering three distinct performances, even when he