2 Lady Luck Runs Out (19 page)

"Except for one thing. Bernard wasn't in town the night your mother was murdered. Neither was Sammy. You confirmed that with your contact at the airport, right?"

"Yes." He sighed. "They were in Brazil. Which doesn't leave us much to run with, either."

"Especially because I really think Bernard was in love with Alba. I don't think he'd harm her. Maybe someone killed her to hurt Bernard? Send a message or warning to him?"

Zach nodded. "That's possible. But who?"

"What about Jet Jamison? He actually catches wild rattlesnakes and Sammy said he had one get away. But, what if it didn't get away? What if he just told Sammy that it did?"

  "He did seem defensive but what motive would he have? He'd have to really have something against Bernard to resort to murder."

"I don't know. I think we should try to find out what Mr. Jamison was doing the night your mother was killed. If he doesn't have an alibi, then we can work on motive."

"Agreed. Anyone else?"

"Maybe Jack. He had motive, though he doesn't own snakes. I can see if Frankie knows where he was that night."

"Okay. I'll work on Jamison. You work on Jack," Zach said.

I stood to go, sliding my bag on my shoulder. The crystal ball caught my eye again. "That yours?" I nodded toward it.

"My mother's. I haven't had the heart to pack away her things yet."

That surprised me. He must have cared about her on some level he wasn't willing to admit. "Do you scry?"

"No." He shook his head. "Scrying is more about getting information through focus of the conscious mind, allowing the subconscious to present to it knowledge from the Whole. I never learned to do this because I get information from touch." He stood and suddenly we were too close again.

I wanted to ask him what he was, but my need to move away from him was stronger than my curiosity. "Okay." I moved around the other side of the coffee table. "I'll contact you when I find out about Jack."

"Darwin?"

I turned back to him. "Yes?"

"Thank you.... for your help. I will repay you one day."

I shook my head. "Not necessary. I'm doing it for Rose."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 Saturday, we were just about to close up when Sammy came through the door with a bouquet of red roses partially covering his face.

"Mal!" I called to her. "Sammy's here."

"Hey." I looked up from rubber-banding the checks together and got a better look at him. "Heavens! What happened to your eye?"

"Oh," he chuckled, putting the roses on the counter, "Jet Jamison was a little sore with me for ratting him out about the rattlesnake getting loose."

My hand flew to my mouth. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know he'd figure out who told us."

"No biggie." He smiled as Mallory came towards him. "He hits like a girl."

"Whoa." Mallory cupped his face. "What happened?"

"Just a little argument. But," he lifted the roses and handed them to her, "don't you worry yourself about such things." He then pulled two tickets out of his pocket. "I have dinner theatre tickets, front and center tonight."

Mallory lifted her nose from the sweet velvety petals. "I do believe you're trying to spoil me." She laughed.

"Trying my best." He kissed her cheek.

She blushed and turned to me. "All right if I don't help you close up tonight?"

"Sure," I said. "Go on. Have fun."

"Thanks, Sis." She gave me a quick hug and then left with Sammy.

I still felt bad that my questioning Jamison had gotten Sammy hurt. Jamison seemed like a pretty violent guy. Maybe we were on the right track with our suspicions of him. I'd call Zach after closing and see if he had found out anything.

Turned out I didn't have to call him. He was waiting for me when I stepped out of the boutique.

"Hi," I said, surprised.

"Jamison has a girlfriend named Sandy. I spoke to her and she said they were supposed to go out the night my mother was killed but Jamison cancelled on her. Said he was sick. She remembered the date because she thought he was cheating on her."

Right to the point, as always. Where did this man get his social skills? Or lack of them was more like it. "Hello, Darwin, how are you? I'm just dandy, Zach, thanks for asking," I teased him.

"Sorry," he said, and actually seemed to mean it.

I waved off his apology. "So Jamison doesn't have an alibi for that night?"

"Doesn't appear to."

"So the next question is, does he have a motive?"

 "Or was he hired to kill my mother?"

"Right. That's a possibility. Money's as good a motivation as any," I said. "Well, turns out Frankie went with Jack to Bernard's party, the night your mother was there telling fortunes. She didn't notice anything odd that night. But, the next weekend she didn't see Jack. She said it wasn't unusual for them to not talk for a week or so but still, she couldn't give him an alibi for the night your mother was killed."

"So, they both stay on the suspect list."

"Looks that way." I watched an elderly couple stroll by, their hands entangled. I fought of the thought of Will and the sadness that came with that thought. "So, where do we go from here?"

Zach had his hands resting on his hips. He shrugged. "Dinner?"

"Dinner?" I had planned on going home and eating leftovers, but I didn't feel like being alone tonight. "Sure. Just let me run up and feed Lucky. I'll meet you at Parkshore Grill. Grab an outside table, please."

Zach gave me a small smile and nodded.

At the gate, I glanced back, watching him walk away. Two over-dressed teenage girls, wearing too much makeup and stiletto heels, also turned to watch him as he passed. Their appreciative giggling trailed behind them down the sidewalk.

When had I let my guard down with him? He was dangerous, I was sure of it. But, he was now my partner in a way that Will wasn't. That made me sad and confused.

*     *     *

Zach cut into a rare steak. "My contact at the airport said Bernard left for Brazil early Friday morning, just got back in early this evening. I find his frequent trips there suspicious. Especially right on the heels of being investigated." He slid the chunk of meat off his fork with his teeth and chewed slowly.

"It does seem a bit suspect that he goes that often." I noticed Zach glancing at me. It felt like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how I'd react. I chewed and swallowed a bite of salad. "Does your contact know why he goes to Brazil so often? He can't be buying snakes every time."

"No." His voice dropped. He put down his fork and met my eyes. "But he does know which hangar Bernard's private plane is in. He said there are always two thuggish-looking guys standing outside the hangar when Bernard returns. Like they're guarding something." He folded his hands on the table and leaned toward me, his voice dropping.  "He gave me the code to get in the gate."

I put down my fork and stared at him. "You want to sneak into the hangar and check out his plane?"

"Don't you? There has to be something important about their trips and about what they're bringing back to need bodyguards."

I thought about it. No, I really didn't want to. It was trespassing. And illegal. We could end up in jail or worse. And the last time I decided to trespass, when I checked out the townhouse, it hadn't turned out so well.

I groaned and rubbed the space between my brows. I could feel the tension pulsing there as I tried to keep the memory of the townhouse at bay. But this time, I wasn't alone. And something had to give.

If we could find out what Bernard was up to, maybe we could figure out if he had enough motive to kill Rose. If not, we could at least cross him off the suspect list. I dropped my hands and met his gaze. "Okay. When?"

His eyes blazed and then hardened. "Finish your dinner. Then we'll take a walk."

I nodded, although I wasn't sure I could swallow another bite. I suddenly felt vulnerable. It was a new feeling.
Who am I to be doing this? I'm just a girl from Savannah.
I stared across the park lawn to the bay water, without really seeing it.
Isn't that what I'm trying to be? Just a girl?
I had denied my heritage to be normal and suddenly it felt all wrong, like I had stripped off my armor and laid down my sword, but I was going to go into battle anyway. I shook off the thought, tucking it in the back of my mind to sort out later.

When I looked up, Zach was very still, watching me.

I leaned back, away from him. "You're not trying to read my mind, are you? Because that would kinda cross a personal boundary."

He frowned. "I don't have to. Your eyes betray your thoughts... and your struggle."

I felt my face grow hot. "I've only got one thought right now. To figure out who murdered your mother and Alba Diaz, before someone else dies." I pushed my plate away and put on some false bravado. "Ready when you are."

CHAPTER THIRTY

Albert Whitted Airport had a single guard that we could see. One lone security truck sitting unoccupied in front of the airport administration office. One man cruised the area, checking to make sure everything was secure.  

We took our time walking along 8th Avenue. Darkness had fallen and the air was cool. A slight breeze held the scents of salt and fuel. After we left the restaurant, I had gone up and changed into yoga pants, a t-shirt, light jacket and sneakers in case we had to do any running. Odds of that seemed pretty high.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I glanced at Zach. His jaw was clenched. Determined. Focused. Like a panther, yellow eyes gleaming. I decided I wouldn't want to run into him in the dark, and I was glad he was on my side.

The small airport stretched out on our left as a series of tan hangars behind a chain linked fence. Private planes sat parked behind them like large, silent birds waiting to be airborne. The tower lights blinked in the distance. It seemed ominously quiet for a working airport.

Zach motioned to me with a sideways jerk of his head, and I followed him through a small parking lot to a security box in front of a gate. He punched a code in the keypad. The creak of the gate startled me as it rolled open. This was it. No turning back.

We tried to act casual as we walked onto the airport grounds, but I could feel the tension speeding up our steps.

"We're looking for hanger number eleven," Zach whispered. "Should be on the end over here."

I struggled to keep up with him without breaking into a jog. My breathing was shallow. Heavens, we hadn't even talked about how we were going to get in.

Then we suddenly stopped as we both saw 'Hanger 11' painted on the side of one of the buildings. I glanced up at Zach.
Now what?

"Come on." He pushed forward.

The large rolling shutter doors were clamped down tight. We jogged around to the back of the hangar. There was an office door. Zach pulled something out of his pocket and slipped it into the lock.

 I grabbed his arm. "What if there's an alarm set?"

His eyes glistened in the dark. "Then we're screwed."

I heard a click and held my breath as he pushed the door open. We both stood still for a second, listening. No alarm. Thank heavens. We slipped inside, shutting the door behind us.

I couldn't believe it. We were in!

I glanced around the dark office. It was mostly bare. One small wooden desk with a few papers scattered on it, a rolling desk chair, and a file cabinet squatting in the corner. Zach crossed the small room in a few steps, pulling open the desk drawers. I went to the file cabinet and tried to do the same, but it was locked.

I suddenly got a bad feeling and second thoughts. "Zach?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing here? I mean, short of a recorded confession, there's no way to pin your mother's and Alba's death on Bernard even if he is the murderer."

 Zach stood, thinking for a moment. Then nodding, his expression hardened. "Come on."

I sighed and followed him out of the office into the hangar, wishing I would have thought to leave Mallory a note, letting her know where I was. Just in case.

A single jet occupied the hangar. It was long and sleek with a row of oval windows. The building frame was a web of steel scaffolding above us; the walls were sheets of metal. A few skylights above allowed in enough moonlight for us to see we were alone. The air filled my lungs, warm and stifling. I peeled off my jacket and tied it around my waist.

A low whistling sound escaped Zach as we approached the plane. "This baby's a Gulfstream G650, the fastest and longest range business jet in the world. No wonder they didn't have any problem flying back and forth to Brazil for the weekend." He frowned. "Bernard Grayson's a lot richer than I thought. A lot richer than one man should be."

We walked around the front, beneath the jet to the other side. The stairs had been left in the down position. I stepped up onto them and climbed each one silently, listening for any movement in the plane. Zach followed close behind. I could feel the heat radiating off him, warming my back.

I stepped into the bowels of the cabin and glanced around. Clusters of cream colored chairs lined the wall on the right, glossy tables between them. A flat screen TV sat on a large matching counter space to the left. The cabin smelled like leather and money.

I moved deeper into the cabin. Zach suddenly grabbed my arm. His mouth pressed into my hair. "Shhh. I think I heard movement."

I turned my head slightly to look up at him. He nodded to the curtain at the back of the jet.
Was somebody back there?
Slipping around me, he stepped in front to take the lead.

I scanned the cabin frantically for something to use as a weapon. Nothing. I stared at Zach's wide shoulders and muscular build. Surely, he could fight if he needed to? My breathing sounded too loud in my own ears. The more I tried to quiet it, the harder it was to breathe.

Oh heavens, I was beginning to hyperventilate. Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades. Something had to give or I was going to pass out. Closing my eyes, I sought out the surrounding bay waters. I was too rusty to control it. But I could use the comfort of its presence to control my fear. Make the anxiety manageable.