“Actually, it’s coming through right now. That plate was issued to one Ethel Farmington, and it belongs on a 2012 Ford Explorer. I’m googling Ethel right now. Ahhh, okay, here we go. Ethel has worked in the passport office for the past thirty-nine years. She is set to retire next month. She posted on Facebook that she was driving with three friends to Las Vegas for a preretirement party. If she stuck to her plan, she got here two days ago and is staying at the Luxor with her friends. According to her post, she will be here for an entire week.”

“Makes sense,” Lionel said. “She arrived, parked her vehicle, and takes either a taxi or an Uber to get around. You saw how clogged the roads are. It’s stop-and-go twenty-four seven, and usually more stop than go. She’d never know her plate was switched. The driver of the Benz will replace it shortly, and no one will ever be the wiser.”

Jack looked at Dennis, who nodded that he understood. “You want me to go to the Luxor and scout out the Ford Explorer, right? How am I gonna get there? I don’t see a bunch of taxis or Ubers lined up waiting for me.”

“Take the van. Lionel can give me a lift back once we make a clear ID on the driver of the Benz. Just be sure you’re in a good position to take a picture of the guy putting the plate back on the car. There will be light in the garage. I’ll do my best to take a shot of him getting into the car here, but I’m not hopeful it will satisfy Charles. He likes everything verified one hundred percent, so do your best. Go already!”

Dennis hit the ground running.

Cyrus suddenly bounded upright from where he’d been dozing at Jack’s feet. “He’s coming like now,” Jack said.

In the blink of an eye, Lionel ripped into his backpack and pulled out two sets of night-vision goggles. “You know what these are, right?”

“You betcha,” Jack said, slipping them on. The world immediately turned green, but the images were crystal clear. His hand dropped to the big shepherd’s head to calm him. “Easy, boy, easy.” Cyrus calmed immediately.

“Here he comes,” Lionel whispered.

Having met Zack Meadows only once, Jack wondered if he would be able to ID the man. Black hoodie, black pants, black shoes. The dark-clad figure turned to look around. Beard. Meadows did not have a beard. He blinked when he saw the hooded figure press the key fob to open the door at the same moment he reached up to rip off the beard on his face. Bingo! Jack held his phone out and snapped picture after picture, hoping at least one of them would be worth something in Charles’s eyes.

“It’s him. It’s really Mr. Meadows!” Lionel all but squealed.