Shopaholic to the Rescue Read Online Free PDF Page B

Operatives

FOUR

    As we travel toward Corey’s Las Vegas address, the mood in the RV is subdued. Mum and Janice are silent. Suze and Alicia are sitting opposite me, still talking away in low voices. And I’m playing stickers with Minnie and thinking about Bryce.
    His full name is Bryce Perry and he was—is—the “personal-growth leader” at Golden Peace. I came across him a lot when I was attending classes there, and what I’m pondering is: Why has Tarquin fallen under his spell? Why has Dad asked him along on the mission? Why do the pair of them trust him? And I think I’ve hit on the answer: Bryce is really good-looking.
    Which is not about being gay or anything. There’s just something compelling about very beautiful people. Especially strong-jawed men with stubble and intense eyes. You fall under their spell and believe anything they say. Like, if I met Will Smith tomorrow and he told me he was on the run from corrupt government officials and I must help him, no questions asked, I’d totally believe it.

    Well, Bryce is the same. He has those captivating eyes that make you go weak-kneed. When he talks, it’s mesmerizing. You start thinking, Bryce, you’re so right! About everything! Even if he’s only telling you the times of yoga classes.
    Suze definitely felt the Bryce magic; I know she did. Everyone did. And the thing with Tarquin is that just before he met Bryce, he’d been in a fairly bad place. He’d fallen out with his family and had an embarrassing business failure, and he was generally feeling pretty down—when up pops Bryce, with his beach-volleyball sessions and his friendly chats and his charismatic personality. So it’s no wonder that Tarkie fell under Bryce’s spell.
    It’s also no wonder that Bryce is after his money. When you’re as rich as Tarkie, everyone’s after your money. Poor old Tarkie. He has all this cash and stately homes and stuff, but I don’t think it makes him happy, really—
    “OK, we’re about twenty minutes away.” Luke interrupts my thoughts and I jump. In fact, we all jump.
    “Twenty minutes?”
    “Already?”
    “But we’re not in Las Vegas yet!”
    “It’s this side of Las Vegas,” says Luke, squinting at the satnav. “Looks like a residential area. Lots of golf clubs.”
    “Golf!” exclaims Janice in excitement. “Maybe Graham and his friend are playing golf! Could that be it, Jane?”
    “Well, he does like his golf,” says Mum, sounding uncertain. “Suzie, Tarquin plays golf, doesn’t he?”
    “A bit,” says Suze, sounding equally uncertain.
    “That’s it, then.” Janice claps her hands. “It’s golf!”

    Golf?
    We’re all looking at one another, flummoxed. Is Dad on a golfing trip? Will we have rushed into the desert like mad things just to find him on the eighteenth green, wearing argyle socks and saying, Good shot, Tarquin ?
    “Does Bryce play golf?” Suze turns to Alicia.
    “I have no idea,” says Alicia. “Seems unlikely. But I’d say there’s no point speculating till we get there.”
    This is such a sensible, dampening-down thing to say, it ruins the temporary excitement. So we all sit in silence until Luke turns into a wide road lined with mansions and says, “This is Eagles Landing Lane.”
    We all stare out of the car, gobsmacked. I thought Las Vegas was all bright lights and hotels and casinos. I sort of imagined that everyone just lived in the hotels all the time. But of course there are houses too. And these aren’t just houses, they’re palaces . The plots of land are huge and they all have towering palm trees or vast gates or something, as if to announce: I live here and I’m a pretty big deal.
    We arrive at number 235 and gaze at it in silence. It’s the hugest of the lot: gray with four castellated towers, like a proper princess’s castle. It looks like it should have Rapunzel leaning out of a window.
    “What does Corey do again?” says Luke.
    “He owns a science company,” I say. “He has all these