This book is dedicated to Debbi and Stephie my BFF’s
who have always been there and supported me.
Thanks you, guys. I really appreciate you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Beverley Bateman is a Canadian author of several books who loves travel, good wine and a mystery. She lives with her husband and two Shiba Inu dogs among vineyards and orchards set in lake country, and surrounded by mountains, beaches, swimming and skiing. She loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her at babateman@shaw.ca , or check out her website at www.beverleybateman.com or her blog at http://beverleybateman.blogspot.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Red sky at night
Sinners delight
PROLOGUE
Brilliant oranges and reds danced against the backdrop of an inky black sky. Two red taillights drove away from the display and disappeared into the darkness.
Flames shot toward the heavens and illuminated the darkness of the night. A few scraggly palm trees stood guard in the background.
For a second, the flames almost disappeared. They withdrew to ground level and crawled on a belly of orange and white along the dirt. They flared up even higher and brighter; fingers of yellow and green reached for the sky. Soft yellows and mauves slipped in and out amongst the brilliant reds and oranges and created a beautiful choreography of color. They moved in tune to a silent orchestra.
The show continued throughout most of the night. It could have been a beautiful Las Vegas revue with the vivid colors dancing against the night sky, but unlike a Las Vegas Revue, no one was there to see it. No one enjoyed the choreography of the beautiful dance or the splendid colors that pranced around the night.
There was no applause - only a deadly silence.
CHAPTER ONE
Maybe today she’d figure out how to make some sense out of her life.
Holly Devine stared across the street at the small, gray stucco building crushed in between the new, larger, office structure and the Cuban luncheteria. The front window covered almost the whole wall, except for the entrance. The stenciling on the glass was chipped and needed to be redone. You could barely read Private Investigator. She should mention it to Gino.
“You stay. I’ll be right back.” Holly patted Bruce, her black Scotty dog, on the head and dropped a few treats on the seat.
The dog licked her hand and whined.
She probably shouldn’t have brought him with her, but he’d been sad when she got ready to leave. He hadn’t recovered from his long stay in that kennel. Damn Uncle Peter anyway.
Holly cracked the car window so he’d have fresh air while she was gone. She opened the door and slid to the pavement.
“I won’t be long, promise.” She blew him another kiss before she headed toward the office. She paused and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window.
She shoved her shoulder length, blonde hair back and regarded the face that stared back at her. It was the same face that had stared back at her for the last ten years. She needed a change, maybe a haircut, something totally different. Some new clothes--something more in tune with the times might help.
She wasn’t the same person she was five years ago--not even five weeks ago. Holly wasn’t sure who she was, but she was gradually starting to find out and put the pieces back together.
Maybe she’d go shopping after she checked in with Gino. She couldn’t buy much - money was tight right now. That alone was a new experience for her. If she got the finder’s fee from Gino today and maybe found a bargain or two, she might be able to manage to buy a couple of things.
Holly shoved open the door. “Morning Lu, is he in?”
Holly inclined her head toward the back room.
Louise Buckerfield pushed a stack of papers to one side, spilling a few onto the floor so she could put her Flashbacks coffee mug down on her desk. She attempted to run her fingers through the shoulder length frizz of red and blonde hair, but the fingers stuck in the tangles.
“Yeah, he’s there. Go on in. You don’t look too bad considering what you’ve been through.”
“Thanks, I guess. A good night’s sleep helped. I’m not sure I’ve digested everything yet, but I can’t sit around thinking about it. I need the work and the money.”
“Yeah, I heard. It must be hard to find out you’re broke.” Lu popped her bubble gum. “But I’m glad you’re back. It’s nice to have another woman around here occasionally. Those other bozos don’t have no idea how to treat a lady.”
“Thanks Lu. I’m glad to be back. Yeah, finding out that someone has spent all your money is a bit of a shocker. I have the house though. I’m better off than a lot of people. And I do have this great job.” She grinned at Lu.
“Yeah, right,” Lu blew another large pink bubble. It almost covered her puffy white face and pale blue eyes.
Holly held her breath for a second and waited for the bubble to burst, but Lu inhaled it without any problem. “I’m hopin’ you stick around for a while.”
“That’s my plan.” Holly tripped across to the door, knocked once and entered. She didn’t wait for an answer.
Gino was ensconced behind his huge, scarred oak desk. His oversized body didn’t fit the chair so he perched on the edge and kind of leaned back against it. A battered fedora with a limp, dirty green feather perched on the back of his head and hid his receding hairline.
The desk held a black desk phone. The edge of a dark green blotter peaked out under a pile of grubby file folders, a plate containing three Egg breakfast muffins, one with several bites taken out of it, and an oversized coffee cup, which he sipped between drags on a large, black, foul-smelling cigar.
“Hey doll face, whyncha come on in and make yer self at home?” He leaned a little farther back; a napkin tucked in the neck of his frayed, gray-white shirt, and scratched the back of his size eighteen neck.
“I’ll do that. Thank you.” Holly perched herself on the edge of the only available chair in Gino’s office. She shoved a pile of old newspapers toward the back of the chair. It left her a few grubby inches at the front edge.
“So what’s the case Gino? You said something yesterday about a missing wife?”
“Look doll face, it’s a simple case of a wife who ran off with the milkman, or in this case, the golf pro. All you need to do is check out where they went. The P.I. for this case has to be someone who can get into the Golf and Country Club. Right up your alley. A day or two’s work --tops, nothing more. Get in, check out the information and get out. Got that? No taking any risks.” Gino pulled out the large stogie he had stuffed in his mouth and blew a cloud of smoke in her direction.
“Sure Gino, whatever you say.” Holly waved her hand in front of her face to get rid of the smoke. She stared across at the man. He leaned back in his chair. His humungous belly hung several inches over his belt and pushed out below the napkin.
“No kid, I mean it. After that last case, I don’t want ya gettin’ no more amnesia and disappearin’ for weeks. It’s not good for my business. How does it look when a P.I. can’t even keep track of his own damn staff? Ya wanna be a P.I.; ya gotta do what yer told. Ya got it?”
“I got it Gino. I got it. I’ll behave. I promise.”
“Good. How’s the head? Ya really okay?”
“I’m fine. The amnesia is totally gone. I have no residual problems. The doctor’s cleared me. I’m fine to come back to work.”
“Good. Here’s the address ya need to start with, doll face. Lu has the file. Check in with me every morning--every morning. Got that?”
“I got it Gino. I’ll check in every morning.” Holly reached over to take the scrap of paper he handed her.
“Get yer little fanny to work. I got things to do. Yer not the only one who works for me ya know.” He shoved his grubby fedora farther back onto his head before he shuffled the pile of papers in front of him.
“Got it, thanks Gino. I’ll catch you later. Oh, what about that check you owe me for the last case.” Holly waited expectantly.
“Oh yeah, right, the money…”
“Gino, you promised. I really need it.”
“Yeah, yeah, talk to Lu. She’ll cut you a check.”
“Thanks Gino. See you tomorrow.” Holly scooted into the outer office.
“Close the door behind you, doll face. I need to think.” Gino bellowed at her receding back.
“Like sure, he’s about to take a nap,” Lu interjected. She rolled her eyes at Holly.
“Hey, he gave me another chance. He’s the only P.I. that would. I won’t say a thing against the man.”
“You’re a good kid. You make sure you don’t go and get into nothin’ like you did before. You’re not a real P.I. yet, you know. You’re not supposed to be doin’ all that stupid stuff. You take care. You get into anything serious you call in for back up.”
“Hey, that works for me. I don’t want another case like the last one.”
“Good. Nice outfit.”
“Thanks.” Holly looked down at the sleeveless, aqua blue patterned silk dress with the scoop neck and the straight skirt. The pattern was small abstract swirls of a deeper turquoise green that she knew matched the color of her eyes.
“I figured I’d better wear something that fit in with the lives of the rich and famous if I wanted to get any information out of them. It’s hard to decide what to wear when the weather hovers between spring and summer.”
“You look great. That was a good choice.”
“Thanks, Lu. I probably don’t have to worry about my wardrobe too much. This case sounds pretty easy, talk to the husband and a few people at the country club. It should be over in a couple of days.”
“Yeah, piece of cake--poor wife.” Lu made a clucking sound with her tongue.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just, you know, if she’s run off with the golf pro it’s probably ‘cause her husband’s a jerk. And then along comes you and yer goin’ to squeal on her. Me--I’m on her side.” Lu blew a huge pink bubble.
“It’s a case. It’s what Gino pays me for. If I don’t do it, someone else will.”
“Yeah, whatever, but it’s a lousy deal.”
“You may be right. I hope not.”
“You wanna do lunch today?”
“Sorry Lu. I’m starting this case. I’m not sure where I’ll be. I’ll take a rain check.”
“Sure. You take care.”
“I need the file and Gino said to cut me a check for the last case.”
“No prob.” Louise shuffled through piles of folders on her desk, finally came up with one.
She waved it successfully over her head and then handed it to Holly. “Here it is. It’ll take me a minute to get you your check.”
“Thanks Lu.” Holly leaned against the wall and flipped open the file.
Lu moved her ample frame over to the filing cabinet. “Can you make that Lulu?”
“What?” Holly frowned.
“I’ve decided that Louise isn’t the real me. I feel more like a Lulu, so I’ve changed my name.”
“I see. Sure. I’ll try to remember--Lulu.” Holly glanced up from the file. With her hair, black lipstick and inch long eyelashes she was right. Lulu did suit her better than Louise.
“I like it. It suits you.”
“Really? Yer not puttin’ me on?”
“No--really.” Holly scanned the file.
“Oh, it’s a sister that reported the woman missing. How come the husband didn’t?”
Lulu shrugged and wrote. She only stopped only to chew the end of the pen.
“Interesting, I wonder why a husband wouldn’t notice his wife was missing. I guess I talk to the sister first. Victor Santiago? Where do I know that name from?”
“He’s some hotsy totsy millionaire, lives out in Bal Harbor.” Lulu handed a check to Holly.
“Thanks Lu…Lulu. What does he do?”
“How would I know? Do I look like I keep up with the damn society pages?” Lulu blew another bubble and popped it, without getting any in her large hairdo.
“You’re good.” Holly closed the file. “We’ll see you later, probably tomorrow morning. You know, I think I’d like to get a haircut.”
“Yer not going to cut off that divine, gorgeous blonde hair are you? It’s so pretty. Migawd, I bet men drool over hair like that.”
“It’s not me. It’s the way everybody always wants me to wear my hair. It’s my mother. She chose my hair and my clothes. She wanted me to be the perfect southern belle.”
“It looks pretty damn good if you ask me.”
“Maybe, but I don’t want men to drool over me because of my hair. Yuck! Besides, I want to find out what I like, how I want to feel.”
“Hey, if I can change my name from Louise to Lulu then you can get yer hair cut. We have to do what we have to do.”
“Good point. Hey everyone shortens your name to Lu already. I don’t think you’ll have a problem switching to Lulu. If you don’t like it, you can always switch it back to Louise.”
“Good point. Thanks, girlfriend. I can’t wait to see your new hairdo.”
“You’re welcome. I’m out of here. I may be a new woman by tomorrow morning.” Holly pulled open the door and stepped out of P.I. Capelleti’s office
She let the door slam behind her and tripped across the street to the six-year old yellow Volkswagen Bug parked in the no parking zone.
She stumbled on a crack in the road. Damn these heels. Four inch heels definitely weren’t meant to be worn by a P.I., even one in training.
Her first stop was to meet the client. She expected it would be someone from the wealthy Miami area. She’d dressed to fit in with that crowd.
Why couldn’t she get a case where she could wear jeans and runners?
Because Gino didn’t need her for those kind of cases, that’s why. That’s the only reason she had the job.
She glanced at the windshield to make sure there were no tickets, then opened the scrap of paper balled up in her fist. The crumpled piece of paper Gino had given her was for an address in the hospital area. When she opened the door Bruce started to bark. He jumped up and put his paws on her shoulders so he could lick her face.
“Down boy, down.” Holly patted Bruce’s head and pushed him into the passenger’s seat. “Good boy. I’m back. Lie down. We’re going for a drive.”
She kicked off her shoes and tossed them on the floor of passenger side. She slid behind the wheel. Bruce jumped down to the floor to he could sniff her shoes.
Victor Santiago was a wealthy businessman. Somewhere in the back of her mind she recalled her father commenting on the man. He hadn’t been in business long but had managed to amass the fortune quickly. It had something to do with…? What?
She couldn’t remember. Her father hadn’t been too impressed with the man Holly recalled. Damn she missed him, even after three years. He’d been her role model.
She’d talk to Santiago later. Right now, she needed to talk to the victim’s sister, Millie Gudron, and find out why she reported her sister missing. Millie lived in a house in the city, about twenty minutes from Gino’s office.
Holly glanced in the rear view mirror and ran her fingers through her shoulder length, light blonde hair. She grabbed a hunk from each side and yanked it back from her face. She sat and stared into the mirror.
Hot Damn! I will do it. I wonder if I can find someone to do it right now.
Holly jumped out of the car, raced across the street in her stocking feet. She shoved the office door open.
“Lulu, who does your hair?”
“My hair? Why?” Lulu’s hand automatically went to her head. She patted the side of her frizz.
“I need a haircut and I can’t afford the hairdresser I used to go to. And I like your style.”
Lulu giggled. “Really? Thanks.”
“So?”
“Like sure, sorry. Ginger does my hair, just a couple of blocks from here.”
“Do you think she could fit me in?”
“Hey, I’ll give her a call. She’ll do it for me. You head over there and I’ll tell her it’s urgent. You’re sure about this?”
Lulu scribbled the address on the back of an envelope and shoved it across the desk to Holly.
“I’m sure. At least, I think I am. I need to do something to get on with my life. Thanks Lu.”
Holly headed back out the door as Lulu picked up the phone and started to dial. “You head over there. She’ll take you.”
“I owe you. Thanks. Lunch is on me next time.” Holly dashed back to her car, slid inside and turned the key in the ignition.
The Volkswagen engine coughed once then roared loudly in response.
Holly pulled away from the curb. She hummed along, off key, to the music on the radio. If she was going to do it, she had to do it right away or she’d loose her nerve.
Eric flashed through her mind. Maybe she should talk to him. What would he think about it if she got her hair cut? Why should he think anything about it? He loved her, not her hair, right?
Holly nodded to herself. That was one of the reason she’d asked for time--to find out about herself, her likes and dislikes. If Eric loved her, he’d understand
“I need to do it, right boy?” She glanced at Bruce.
Seconds later, she spotted the salon and pulled into a vacant area next door. She grabbed her shoes from under the seat and pushed Bruce to one side.
“You be good. I’ll get you ice cream later. Okay, boy?” Holly jammed her feet into the shoes. She closed her eyes and inhaled. Then she pulled her shoulders back and tottered quickly to the door of CUT ABOVE.
“Hi, Ginger?”
“That’s me.” The tall, slightly overweight redhead was busy with an older woman in the chair. “You must be Holly.”
“Yeah, can you fit me in?”
“Sure hon, anything for a friend of Lulu’s. She said you just got back. On a cruise or something weren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Holly eased herself onto the faded rose-patterned seat cover of a wicker chair.
She glanced around the beauty parlor. It was different than the one she was used to where it had been all black and white with chrome and glass.
This was an older building, the rose paint on the walls was fading; dusty plastic plants hung from the ceiling by handmade macramé hangers. The waiting area was wicker. The seat cushions showed the wear and tear of long use and needed to be recovered.
Ginger fluffed and sprayed the hair of the woman in the chair. She appeared to know what she was doing. And Holly couldn’t be too particular at this point. She didn’t even know how much money she had, if any. She did know she couldn’t continue to live in the style she had become accustomed too. That had become crystal clear when Uncle Peter had died.
Ginger picked up the scissor to cut a few wisps of the client’s loose hair. “You want a trim?”
“Actually, I want a cut.”
Ginger stopped, scissors suspended in midair. “Did I hear you say a cut?”
“Yeah, a cut, you know--something wild and different.”
“Ohmigawd, are you sure you want to cut that gorgeous hair? Your mama’d turn over in her grave if she heard that.”
“I guess mama’s going to have to take a spin, because the new me wants a new look.”
“Well hon, if you’re sure that’s what you want? You sit right there and I’ll be with you in a few minutes. There’re some hairstyle magazines beside you. Take a look and see if there’s anything in there you like. Are you absolutely sure about this? I mean once it’s gone, sugar, it’s gone.”
“Ginger, this hairstyle is my mother’s idea. I think it’s about time for me to find out who I want to be and how I want to look. No, I’m not sure about this, but I know I want to find out who’s hiding inside me. Who’s the real me? After all this time, I’m not even sure what I want anymore. I’m a real mess.”
“There you go, Lucy.” Ginger picked up the hand mirror and turned the client so she could see the back of her hair.”
“Thanks Ginger. It looks real fine.” Lucy opened her purse and laid the money on the counter.
“I’ll see you next week. Good luck with your new haircut.” Lucy smiled at Holly when she headed for the door.
“Okay sugar, you hop up into this chair and let’s see who we can find under there.”
Holly kicked her shoes off, left them under the wicker seat and sat down in the hairdressing chair.
“You’re really sure about this?” Ginger asked again, while she ran her fingers through Holly shoulder length hair.
Holly nodded and crossed her fingers.
“Okey dokey, let’s do it. Did you see anything you liked?”
“Not really. I know I want it short and easy to care for, sort of wash and wear. And I want something totally different. I know this style is feminine and pretty and men like long hair, particularly long blonde hair, but I don’t think I like it. I may hate short hair. I don’t know. I’ve never had it short. If I hate it, it will grow back.”
“Hmmm,” Ginger stood back, cocked her head to one side and then walked slowly around Holly. “Maybe…”
“Hurry up and do it before I lose my nerve.”
Ginger grabbed the scissor and chopped a section of hair off the back. It dropped to the floor and fanned out around the chair. “There you go sugar. It’s too late to change your mind.”
Holly stared blankly at the floor for a second then closed her eyes and leaned back. “Tell me when you’re finished. You know, I’ve never done anything like this before. It’s scary, but it also feels good, kind of exhilarating. What will it look like? Will I like it?”
Holly squinted through one eye then snapped the lid shut tight.
“It’s just hair, hon. So, you want to find yourself, huh? I read a book on that stuff once. Thought about it myself--never did though.” Ginger hummed while she snipped away. She clicked in time with the tune of the song that played on the small radio on the back counter.
“Did you know Roy over at the service station is sleeping with Marge from the coffee shop?”
“No. I don’t think I know either of them. Lu might have mentioned them.” Holly tensed each time the scissors clicked.
“Probably not, I didn’t know about them, the last time she was in. Relax girl. I know what I’m doing. Marge is married, but her old man is tied to the boob tube so he hasn’t even noticed she’s out at nights. I guess maybe she’s finding herself, too.” Ginger chuckled.
Ginger’s cologne wafted thickly around Holly, but she couldn’t identify the scent. “What is that perfume?”
“What? Oh, that’s Wild Animal. Like it? I got a deal on it at the local drugstore around the corner.”
“It’s very--different.”
“I don’t think they got it on sale any more. I got this last year some time. They might have it at regular price though.”
“I’ll have to check it out.” Holly murmured. She continued to be tense at the click of the scissors. “Are you almost done?”
“You don’t want to rush a masterpiece, sug, be patient.” Ginger moved back and forth around Holly. She ran her fingers through Holly’s hair and snipped confidently.
“So who do you spend your nights with these days, sugar?”
“Bruce.”
Ginger frowned. “I don’t think I know him, do I?”
“No, probably not.” Holly laughed. “He’s my scotch terrier.”
Ginger guffawed loudly, one of those old fashioned belly laughs. “So you spend your nights with your little dog. Girl, let’s hope this hairdo does a little more to spice up your love life.”
“Actually I’m fine with it, my love life that is. Thank you very much.”
“Hon, you don’t want to be alone. It’s not good for you. Nature meant for man and woman to be together. Trust Ginger on this. There. Ohmigawd, you know you look like Meg Ryan with that hairdo.”
Holly sneaked her left eye open a crack and then her right. Then they popped wide open and she stared at the attractive person who looked back at her.
She had short, feathered, blonde hair. It was a pixie cut. It accented her face and showed off her high cheekbones. It also illuminated her eyes and made them look larger and somehow brighter, more alert maybe.
“Whatdya think?” Ginger held the mirror in front of Holly and swirled the chair around.
“I love it, I think. I mean it feels so strange not to have my hair hanging down. It feels so light. I do feel like a new person.” Holly put her hand to the base of her neck. She tried to flip her hair, but it was all gone.
She ran her fingers through the short cut and wondered how Eric would like it. Lordy, how she missed him. She didn’t think the loneliness would be this bad, but it was only for a few weeks.
Her confidence inched up a notch. She realized that this had been a good decision. Maybe even a great decision.
“That’s what you wanted isn’t it sug?”
“Yes, it is, and you did it. I love you.” Holly jumped out of the chair and gave Ginger a big hug. “Thank you, thank you.”
Holly did a pirouette around the salon. “I feel like I’ve shed a huge weight. It’s like, I don’t know, maybe I feel free. I know people wouldn’t think of my life as something you’d want to be free of, but I’ve been smothered. This is like I’m taking a breath on my own for the first time. What do you think?”
She stopped in front of Ginger.
“I have to admit sugar, it looks great on you.”
“I need to get some new clothes to go with this image--something lighter, something fun. Thanks, Ginger. You did a great job. I’ll catch you later.” Holly left the money on the counter, picked up her shoes, dangled them by a finger over her shoulder and danced out to her car in stocking feet.
She’d made a great decision. Life could only get better.
***
When the seatbelt sign was turned off, Eric Peterson was one of the first to stand up and shoulder his way into a spot where he could yank his bag from the packed overhead compartment and prepare to disembark.
He wanted to get started on this assignment and get it over with. Being an Interpol agent had been perfect until he met Holly. Traveling around the world didn’t hold the same appeal. He wanted to get back to her quickly.
The woman seated behind him stared at his body. She obviously appreciated what she saw. She watched him, her eyes warm and inviting. She flipped her long dark hair back, expertly, and focused her dark eyes on his face she gazed up at him through a fringe of dark eyelashes. She licked her lips and ran her finger over them. She smiled seductively.
He smiled in response and then concentrated on the exit ahead of him. Eric knew if he made any attempt at a conversation she’d probably invite him for the night. She had tried several times during the flight to strike up a conversation and hold his attention.
On another case, before Holly, he wouldn’t have hesitated. The woman was the type that was only interested in a short-term fling. That had been his philosophy--women were there to be enjoyed, never taken seriously. He’d always managed to fit in a short encounter on an assignment, and she would have been perfect.
However, working with Sarah on his last case for Interpol, had made some major inroads on his views of women. Holly had overcome much of his fear of relationships. He realized he didn’t want anyone but Holly and that continued to amaze him.
He could look at another woman and all he saw was Holly; her gorgeous blonde hair, her beautiful sea green eyes, unless she was angry and then they became darker, more emerald color; her wonderful, warm, desirable body.
God, he missed her. It was probably the first time he’d honestly missed anyone in his life. He hadn’t wanted to leave her behind, especially when she insisted she wanted to continue that damn private investigator job. Private Investigator--what kind of job was that for a woman?
He didn’t approve, but couldn’t say much. She put up with his work for Interpol. Gino hadn’t kept her safe on her last assignment, but at least she didn’t work with some tall, good-looking P.I. And she had another case to work on.
She could look after children or teach piano instead. Something safe, something women should be doing. Eric caught himself. Sarah would have laughed at him if he’d said something like that. He shook his head. He had a lot of work to do on his attitude.
Eric also didn’t like to think of Holly on her own in that house in Miami. She needed someone to look after her. He should be there.
He turned away from the dark-haired woman. Old feelings were hard to give up, even with all Sarah’s hard work. Somehow, he didn’t think Holly wanted to be safe and protected. She was bound and determined to take risks and live life her way.
He wasn’t used to this and it was hard. After this case, they needed to spend some time together-a lot of time together. They needed to get to know each other better and do some long term planning. He’d tell the agency he wanted time off. All he had to do was convince Holly to take some time off, too.
People started to move. First class always left first, and a few minutes later, he was inside the Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam.
He spotted the limo that sat directly in front of the exit doors. He strode over to it. He nodded to the driver who opened the rear door for him. Eric’s body sank into the butter-soft leather of the seat. He pushed all thoughts of Holly to the back of his mind.
This assignment shouldn’t be too difficult. Thanks to his knowledge of art that he’d gained when growing up, he’d managed to land this assignment with Interpol. It should be fairly easy and hopefully without a lot of risk. Unlike diamonds and drugs, art didn’t usually go hand in hand with death.
He reached into the limo bar, poured himself a scotch and soda and settled back to become Ellard Pearson, the slightly shady New York buyer, with even shadier partners, waiting to be contacted by the individuals who wanted to sell him stolen art.
***
Holly parked in front of the three-story apartment block. It needed a paint job, but the miniscule yard was trimmed and neat. She checked the address on the piece of paper Gino gave her. This was the sister’s place--second floor.
She reached across to the passenger’s seat and retrieved her shoes. She shoved her feet into them, checked her hair in the mirror and ran her fingers through the short hair. She hadn’t adjusted to the change yet.
Bruce raised his head from the passenger’s seat where he slept.
“Good boy.” She dropped a couple of doggie cookies on the seat, opened the door and slid out of the car. She strolled carefully up the cement walkway and stepped over the cracked and broken parts. She pressed the intercom button.
“Yes?”
“Hi, it’s Holly Devine. I’m from the Capelleti Detective Agency.”
It was a few seconds before the buzzer rang.
Holly opened the door and stepped into a small entry. There was no elevator. She tramped up the well-worn stairs. On the second floor, she checked the numbers on the doors and started down the hall.
A door to her right opened.
“Yes?” A woman in her early thirties stood there.
She was taller than Holly, maybe five feet six and heavier. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore no makeup or jewelry.
“Can I help you?” Her icy blue eyes stared at Holly.
“Holly Devine, from the Capelleti Detective Agency. Mr. Capelleti asked me to look into your report that your sister is missing.”
“You don’t look like a detective.”
“I’m a newer member of the team. These cases are my specialty.” Holly crossed her fingers behind her back.
“I see. Do you have identification?”
“Oh, sure,” Holly opened her purse, fumbled through her wallet and eventually found an old photo ID card. She’d rummaged through some old boxes in the attic and found it. Mickey said he should have her replacement identification ready by the weekend.
“Here you go.”
The woman accepted it and stared at it and then at Holly. She handed the card back.
“Thank you. Please come in. I’m Millie Gudron. I was afraid Victor might have sent you to try and keep me quiet.”
The woman stepped to one side. Holly edged past her into the living room. The furnishings were simple and older; an overstuffed beige corduroy couch and matching chair, a rocker, a wood and glass coffee table and a corner shelf.
“Please, have a seat. Thank you for coming. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m afraid that something has happened to my sister.”
Holly sat in the handcrafted rocking chair the sister indicated.
“Victor? Why would he want to keep you quiet?”
“Because I’m sure he’s done something to my sister and he doesn’t want anybody to check on her.”
Holly perched on the edge of the chair to prevent herself from rocking. “I see. Maybe you can tell me what makes you think your sister is missing.”
“I haven’t heard from her in over a week. Can I get you a cup of tea?”
“That would be lovely.” Holly dug out her notepad and pencil.
“Is chamomile all right?”
“That sounds perfect. A week isn’t long. She might be busy and forgot to call.”
“I know it doesn’t sound like it’s a long time, but my sister and I are very close. When our parents died, I looked after Mitzi. I’m five years older. We talk every day or every other day at the latest. Even if she’s away somewhere, she always calls me.”
Millie returned with a small tray and placed it on the coffee table. She poured Holly a cup and passed it over carefully. “Help yourself to the cream and sugar.”
“No, I’m good.”
“Would you like lemon? I think I have some.”
“No, clear is fine. Thank you.” Holly took a sip and burned the tip of her tongue. She put the cup down.
“When I talked to her last week, she told me Victor was angry. She said she was frightened. She didn’t know what he might do to her. She planned to tell me why when she saw me because Victor often listened in on her phone calls.
“When I didn’t hear from her for two days, I called and talked to Victor, her wonderful husband. He was abrupt and told me Mitzi had gone and hung up on me. I was frustrated. I went out to see him. He was furious that I’d come and wouldn’t let me in the house. When I pressured him, he said she’d run off with the golf pro and good riddance to both of them.”
“I see.” Holly scribbled furiously.
“I know she didn’t run off with the golf pro. She would have told me if that was her plan, or dropped by here before they left town. She’d never even told me she was interested in the golf pro. I know Victor is a liar. He’s done something to my sister. I know he has. I don’t know what, but I have to find out, whatever it is. Can you help me?” Millie asked.
“Look, I didn’t know you or your sister, but are you sure there’s no way she would have run off with a man without telling you? It might have been a spur of the moment thing and once they’re settled in Mexico, or wherever, she’ll call and let you know where she is.”
“No, she’d never do that. I know Mitzi.”
“I’ll talk to the golf pro and see what he says.”
“I understand what you’re saying. I know I sound a little over protective. Some people considered our dependence on each other abnormal. I know Victor hated it. It’s just we were all we had, for so long. When our parents died, we sort of looked after each other, even though I was older. Mitzi brightened up my life. We never go more than a day or two without keeping in touch. It’s who we are.” Millie shrugged.
“Her husband says she’s run off with the golf pro and isn’t too worried. Did he sound angry or upset?”
“Victor? No. Victor would never sound upset. I think he was angry because I phoned to check on Mitzi. He was mad at me, but basically Victor is cold and calculating. He married Mitzi because she is gorgeous. She won the Miss Miami Orange contest. She’s talented, too. He wanted her for an adornment when he entertained. Other than that he didn’t have much use for her. For that matter, I don’t think he has much use for any woman. He didn’t love her.”
“Did Mitzi love him?”
“I think she did when she first met him. He showered her with gifts and expensive trips. She was young and easily impressed. He turned her head. It didn’t last long.”
“I see. Why didn’t she leave him?”
“He would have killed her. She was his property.” Millie replied.
“But even if he didn’t love her, if someone’s run off with his property, wouldn’t he be upset?”
Millie sighed. “No. He’d be furious; the same as if you walked into your home and found a thief had violated it. He’d kill them both if it happened. Then find another ornament to decorate his arm.”
“So, you think he’s killed your sister?” Holly asked.
“Yes. I’m afraid that’s what he’s done. There’s no other reason she wouldn’t have called me. And it wouldn’t be because she ran off with someone. There has to be another reason.”
“Oh God, you didn’t say anything about a murder.” A shiver twisted snake-like down Holly’s spine. “If you think she’s been killed, you should talk to the police. They’re the ones who should look into this, not a private investigator.”
“I talked to the police. They’re not interested. She hasn’t been missing that long and Victor says she’s run off with the golf pro.”
“But did you tell them what you suspected?”
“Yes, and they laughed. Victor Santiago has money and power and is an important man. I’m nobody. The police say it’s a domestic issue. Even when husbands say they plan to kill their wives, they usually don’t. They did talk to Victor. He was very convincing about her disappearance.”
“So you want me to find out if Victor murdered your sister.”
“Yes. A part of me hopes that she has run off with the golf pro, or that Victor has locked her in her room, to teach her a lesson, but I’m sure he’s killed her. I have to know the truth.” Tears spilled over and trickled down Millie’s cheek. She swiped at them with the back of her hand.
“I’m sorry. I’m probably being a nuisance, but honestly, I don’t know what else to do.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re doing the right thing. Do you have a picture of Mitzi?”
“Of course, I’ll get it for you.” Millie swiped at her eyes and left the room.
“Do you know any of her friends?”
“She didn’t have any. Victor made sure of that. He kept her isolated from friends and family. She went to the country club to play golf and she went shopping. That’s about it. And she had a chauffeur for those activities. There were a couple of girls at the country club that she played golf with. I’ll write their names down for you.” Millie came back into the room and handed a photograph to Holly.
Holly looked at the photo of a young woman, maybe in her late twenties, with long blonde hair and soulful blue eyes. “She is beautiful.”
“Yes. That’s what got her into this mess. She was young and naïve. Victor overwhelmed her with his money. She expected to live the life of Cinderella. It turned out to be more like Rapunzel, but Rapunzel escaped. I don’t think Mitzi did.”
Holly dropped the photo into her purse. “I’ll do what I can. I don’t have a lot to go on.”
“I understand. Anything you can find out, anything at all, I’ll appreciate it. The fact you listened to me and will try to find her makes me feel a little better. I don’t know what I’ll do without her, but I don’t think I can live if I don’t know where she is or what happened to her.” Millie dabbed at the corner of her eye.
“It will probably be a couple of days before I get back to you.”
“If you think of anything else, or your sister calls, you can get a message to me through the office. You have the number?”
“Yes, but she won’t call.” Millie said. A tear caught in her throat. “She can’t.”
CHAPTER TWO
Victor shoved his chair back from the oversized, polished mahogany desk and stared at the man in front of him. He tapped his perfectly manicured fingernails together and watched Ramon pace the room. He moved like a leopard, lithely, his muscles tensed with each step, his lips moved silently.
Victor smiled and watched the lean muscles in action. Then Ramon stopped, spun around and turned on him.
“The cops called again. They had more questions about her. They’re going to get suspicious.” The words spit from Ramon’s mouth, a snarl ended the sentence.
“Don’t worry about the cops, Ramon. They have nothing.” A smile played with his lips, never going any farther.
“I don’t like it.” Ramon snarled again. “If they start to snoop around…”
“If they start to snoop around, they’ll find she’s not here. We don’t know where she is. They can’t prove otherwise. And cops don’t like domestic stuff. They’ll back off. They don’t want to waste their time to find a faithless wife. Trust me.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. I wish they’d go way. Why did this have to go down now? It could screw up the whole deal.”
“It won’t cause any problems with the deal. Everything will go as planned. Trust me. They’ll all be here on the agreed upon weekend. Everything is in place. We will be even richer, soon. And remember, there’s a bonus in it for you.”
“Umm,” Ramon mumbled under his breath and returned to his pacing. “What if they find her? A bonus ain’t goin’ to do me no good locked in a damn cell.”
“They won’t. I’ve taken care of that. Don’t worry. You won’t go to jail. I have both, money and power, a lot of money and power. That buys a lot of protection.”
“That better include protection for me. Where is she?” Ramon swung around.
“It’s better if you don’t know. It will be easier if the police do question you. I don’t expect they will, but you never know.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“Come on Ramon, you know better than that. You’ve put together one of my biggest deals. How much more can I trust you?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, she’s has me a little rattled. I mean that wasn’t part of the original deal.”
“Don’t let my wife rattle you. You’ll get paid for the extra work. Other than that nosey sister, no one will ever miss her. It’ll blow over. Come here.” He pulled a sheaf of paper from the top right hand drawer and spread it out on the desk. “Let’s double check the timing on this deal one more time.”
Ramon moved to the desk. He put his finger on the papers and ran lightly over the lines, reviewing the details. Moving lips gave away that he silently repeated specific points to himself.
“Trust me. Even if they find her, they’ll never be able to identify her.”
“Yes sir, if you say so. She couldn’t have picked a worse time to do this you know.” Ramon didn’t look up, but kept focused on the information.
“I know. But there’s no way they can trace it back to me.”
“I believe you. Since I don’t know what happened, I trust what you say. I’m a little jumpy. I know you think it’s better if I don’t know, but I like to know everything so I can feel in control.”
“This is my organization and I’m in control, not you. Drop it.”
“I got it. I got it.”
“Everything is set. Just a few details left for the party and some last minute negotiations on the final numbers. They’ll agree to them. One way or another, they’ll agree to our numbers. They want the delivery badly. And they’ll be on our property. They won’t have a choice. You do know they’ll all bring their henchmen with them. Do we have enough men to make sure we’re in control at all times?”
“Yes sir. We’ve hired an extra thirty men, all crack shots.”
“Good. I don’t want any surprises.” He smiled across the desk, his lips twisted into a sardonic grin.
Ramon smiled back. “Me either. Surprises are dangerous. Let’s hope everything plays out the way we planned it.”
“It will. I need someone to take to the party. I want an attractive woman on my arm.”
“Maybe you should go alone, in case people ask.”
“No one’s going to ask. They’ve all have heard the story and feel sorry for the poor cuckold husband.” He chuckled, a rattling, almost evil sound. “No, I need a beautiful woman. See what you can do, will you?”
“I’m not your pimp,” Ramon snarled.
“Of course not, but chances are she won’t walk up to my door. Keep your eyes open and let me know if you see anyone who might be suitable. I’ll take it from there.”
“Whatever—sure--find you a woman. Anything in particular I should look for?”
“Blonde, I like blondes, young, gorgeous, sexy blondes.”
***
Holly paused inside the darkened door and nodded to the maître d’. She glanced around the room. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light and people and tables came into focus.
A movement caught her eye and she turned to see a hand waving from a table near the window. She tripped across the room to the attractive older woman.
The woman sat erect in her blue designer suit and expensive diamonds, her white hair coiffed in an elegant bun.
“Hi Lillian, you beat me. Been here long?”
“No dear. I just arrived. My goodness, what did you do to your beautiful hair?”
Holly bent down and kissed the older woman on the cheek before she slipped into the empty chair. “You noticed.”
“You’d have to be blind and dumb to miss that. I’m not either, not yet. I like it.”
“Really?”
“Yes dear, I do. It makes you look, I don’t know, maybe more independent, or maybe like a modern young woman. It suits you, although it was gorgeous long. The important thing is that you like it. Do you?”
“I do. I really do. I wasn’t sure. You know I’ve never made my choice on how to wear my hair in my whole life, but I really like it.”
“We need to drink to a big decision like that--to an excellent choice.” Lillian raised her water glass in salute. “What made you decide to do it?”
Holly raised her glass and clinked Lillian’s before she took a sip of the water. “I’m not sure. I want to do a lot of things I’ve never done before. This was the right time to try it.”
Holly ran her fingers through her hair and grinned across at Lillian. “You really like it?”
“Yes, I really like it. What’s next?”
“What do you mean?”
“What else about yourself do you plan to change next?”
“I’m not sure, a new wardrobe maybe. I want some fun clothes; clothes that are kind of funky.”
“Sounds like a good idea. I wouldn’t spend too much on the clothes though, in case the novelty wears off quickly.”
“Good idea. Besides, I don’t have a whole lot to spend on a new wardrobe anyway. It’ll have to be just a couple of things.”
“If you need some money…”
“Lillian, don’t start. I’m fine--I think. You’ve already done far too much for me and you’ve taken charge of my business and you’re working to see if it’s viable. I think that’s enough.”
“You know if you need anything…”
“I know. I have a new case already. I talked to the sister this morning.”
“My, you’ve been a busy girl. We just got back.” Lillian smiled across at her.
Holly picked up the menu and surveyed it. Her eyes peered over the top of the menu and observed the woman who sat opposite her.
Lillian was in her early sixties. She looked younger than her years with her hair pulled back into an elegant bun at the base of her neck. The style showed off her high cheekbones and strong bone structure. The Chanel suit in soft, powdered blue matched her eyes. She wore a diamond choker, matching earrings and her fingers were laden down with rings, mostly diamonds. She frowned at the menu through her half glasses.
She was a striking woman, one that turned many heads when she entered a room.
You would never suspect she had a problem. That was how she and Lillian had met, that and Holly’s amnesia.
“You’re staring.”