Bargain Hunting (18 page)

I got a call from the IT guys at Dane-Lieberman and stepped out to take the call.

“Did you find the IP address?” I asked, hopeful that it would result in some sort of clue that would take us to a new place in the investigation.

“Yeah, but it isn’t good news. Know that coffee shop on Australian, Wired?”

“Yes.”

“The e-mail originated from one of their computers.”

Shit. Shit. And double shit.

He promised to leave my laptop in my office, then I went back inside to discover my number was next in the rotation. Even though I knew Liam was not capable of shooting anyone for no good reason, I still felt panicked at the thought of gambling with my much-coveted house.

If I thought getting to my number was a triumph, I was sadly mistaken. I was handed a hefty stack of forms, told to go over to the chipped Formica counter on the adjacent wall and fill them out. Once that was done, I was to take the paperwork and my deed to window number 7.

The questionnaire was lengthy and covered everything from my date of birth to my relationship—if any—to the inmate. The options were in black and white. You were either a family member or a friend. No box to check if you were just in lust with the person you were bonding out.

Number 7 was a bleached blonde with some miles on her. She was as wrinkled as a slept-in linen skirt and never smiled or sent out any sort of positive vibe. What did I expect? “Welcome to Fred’s Bonds, have a great day?” Instead she moistened her fingers, flipped through the pages, and stamped each one. She disappeared behind a door for a moment, then slipped some pages into the well between the glass and me.

On to step two. I went back to the courthouse and presented the bond to the clerk. He made a production out of making
sure every
i
was dotted and every
t
was crossed. Then he told me I would have to wait an hour before the inmate would be released.

I wasn’t going to sit around. I grabbed a chicken salad sandwich to go from the courthouse cafeteria and walked the two blocks back to my office. All the while my brain was spinning. I dropped my things off, reclaimed my laptop and secured it in my briefcase, then buzzed Becky.

“Are you free to come down here for a few minutes?”

“Is Liam with you?”

I explained the painfully slow turning of the wheels of justice. “I just need a sounding board.”

“I’m due for a break,” Becky said. “I’ll be right there.”

True to her word, within five minutes Becky was seated across from my desk. “You gonna finish that?” she asked as she spied the half sandwich on my desk.

“Go for it.”

“So what’s up?”

“First, thanks for coming to the arraignment.”

She shrugged. “Liam was there for me when I needed help. Thought it was only right that I return the favor.”

“I’ve been thinking.”

Becky grinned. “With what part of your anatomy?”

“I’m serious. Liam was a cop for almost fifteen years. He had to have made enemies. Maybe one of those enemies lured Liam to José’s house that night with the intention of killing them both?”

“Because?” she asked with her mouth full of half-masticated food.

“Because bad people do bad things.”

“So why now?” she countered. “Liam’s been off the force for five years. Long time to hold a grudge.”

“Unless the person with the grudge has been incarcerated all this time.”

“Possible,” Becky acknowledged.

“How can I find out what cases Liam worked without going to the police?”

“Hit the criminal database and do a search for Liam’s name. That will tell you every case he testified in or was the arresting officer on.”

“It’s that easy?”

Becky shook her head. “No. Then you’d have to get the transcripts and read what happened. If any threats were made. Why don’t you just ask Liam?”

“I sorta want to do this on my own.”

Becky’s eyebrows arched. “Why, for God’s sake?”

“I just want to show him that I am fully capable of figuring this out.”

“You want him indebted to you?”

I took in a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want. I just know that helping him is something I need to do.”

“And how does Tony feel about you playing sleuth?”

“Hopefully he’ll never know until I uncover something important.”

“Or you’ll get yourself killed trying. At least two people are dead already. Someone sent you a creepy e-mail and your window was smashed,” Becky argued as she balled up the deli paper and tossed it in the trash.

“The window thing was a fluke. The cops told me so.”

“Fin,” Becky began earnestly. “You’re great at tracking down heirs, but tracking down a killer is a whole different ball game.”

“If I get in over my head, I promise I’ll back off. Just don’t say anything to Liam or Tony.”

“I can’t make that promise.”

“You’re my friend.”

Becky nodded. “A friend who doesn’t want to attend your funeral.”

I was battling a
bit of a time crunch. I drove over to the courthouse, then started walking toward the door where inmates were released. I was not alone. There, standing in the shadows of the sun, was Ashley. She was all dolled up for the occasion—white skinny jeans and a top with a deep V that showed more cleavage than I even had.

She greeted me with a smile and then gave me an awkward hug. “Thanks so much for arranging Liam’s bail. My salon is doing okay but I sure don’t have a hundred and fifty grand in equity.”

I shifted from foot to foot as I nervously waited for Liam to come through the fence with sharp razor wire looped on top. The temperatures were beginning to fall and I was sorry I’d left my sweater in the car.

“It’s really good that Liam has a friend like you,” Ashley said to break the silence. “Not everyone would do what you did for him today.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I lied. I was already ducking calls from Jane. As my financial planner, she hated when I planned something without her.

A sirenlike noise sounded and Liam came out of the building flanked by a single guard. He smiled at me. He also smiled at Ashley.

It was Ashley who ran forward and jumped into his arms. Then she gave him a kiss. I wanted to go running and screaming out of there but I couldn’t think of a way to extricate myself without being totally transparent.

When Liam reached me, Ashley still had her arm looped through his. “Ash, you want to give us a minute?”

“We don’t need a minute,” I said, trying my best to be all easy and breezy.

Liam gave me that sexy half smile and I was pretty sure he knew that I was not comfortable watching him lock lips with another woman.

“A minute,” Ashley replied in an almost singsong way. “I went shopping and got all the stuff to make your favorite meal. Thai chicken with pasta.” She walked toward the half-full parking lot.

“Come here,” he said softly.

I stood my ground. A girl can take only so much humiliation in one sitting. “I just wanted to make sure you got out okay. No snafus with the bond.”

“Then I’ll come to you,” he said, stepping forward so that mere inches separated us. He smelled of soap and I could almost feel the heat of his body.

As he slipped his arm around my waist, I turned my head to see if Ashley was bearing witness. She wasn’t. She’d already turned the corner of the building.

“I need to thank you properly.” His head lowered and hovered over my mouth.

My tongue slipped out to moisten my suddenly dry lips. That’s when he made his move. And what a move it was. He pressed his mouth to mine and then gingerly took my lower lip between his and teased it with his tongue. My insides were melting along with my ability to reason. His hand moved up and laced through my hair, tilting my head ever so slightly before he slipped his tongue into my mouth. This time there was nothing gentle or tentative about it.

His other hand came to rest at my waist, but only for a second. Soon it was traveling up my rib cage until his fingers just grazed the side of my breast. A moan escaped from my lips and I carefully pressed closer to him, mindful of the stitches in his side.

His mouth broke from mine and he trailed tiny kisses down my jaw and then to my neck. He tugged at the top of my dress, giving himself access to the tender spot near my collarbone. My knees were mush. I was mush. I was also an idiot. I was reveling in sensations from a man who’d just kissed another woman.

That realization was like a bucket of ice water dousing my inflamed passions. With a jerk, I stepped out of his hold. “Ashley is waiting for you.”

His eyes were hooded and he seemed to be mocking me. “She’ll wait.”

“Well, I can’t. I have a
thing
.”

His dark eyebrows pinched together. “What kind of thing?”

“Dinner with a friend,” I told him, careful to keep my tone even. “You’d better get going. Don’t want to keep that Thai chicken waiting.”

He laughed softly. “You’re going to run out of reasons to put me off one of these days.”

Probably true, but I’d gnaw off my own tongue before I admitted that to him.

I tortured myself by adjusting my mirror and watching Ashley and Liam ride off, literally, into the sunset. Before putting my car in drive, I called Izzy to tell her I was on my way.

Her enthusiasm was catchy. After a few minutes of her being in my car, I found myself enjoying the trials and tribulations of a fourteen-year-old.

“If he’s such a great guy, why aren’t you letting your father in on it?”

Izzy frowned as she captured her long brown hair and twisted it up on her head. “Dad doesn’t think I should date until I’m sixteen. That’s so medieval. Cole is my age. It isn’t like I’d be in a car with a boy. Dad’s fears are like totally irrational.”

“Maybe his fears are because he was once a fourteen-year-old boy,” I suggested.

“That’s a gross thought.” She adjusted the seat belt so she could sit sideways in the seat. “Unless you’re you? I mean, it would be okay if he had those thoughts about you.”

I patted her leg. “Not gonna happen, kiddo. I work for your father.”

“You could quit.”

“Not according to my VISA bill.”

We pulled into the Gardens Mall and I purposefully parked outside the Macy’s entrance. I thought it was prudent to keep Izzy away from the outlandishly expensive shoes at Betsey Johnson. We started at Macy’s, then moved on to Aldo and then Nordstrom. Luckily for me Izzy fell in love with a pair of cute sale pumps with a tiny bow accent that would complement the black lace dress she’d chosen for the fall formal. With the hard work done, we opted to hit Brio for dinner.

The restaurant’s entrance was outside the mall. It was reminiscent of an Italian bistro and the food was excellent. The waitstaff was top-notch and the tables were perfectly dressed in white linens. Since I’d only had a half sandwich, I felt like splurging, so I went for the cheesy-goodness lasagna and a glass of red wine.

Izzy ordered a personal pizza. “So here’s the plan for next Saturday.

“You come over to do my hair and makeup, then I’ll tell my dad I want you to drive me to the dance because you have a cool car.”

“Your father has two cool cars.”

She frowned. “But he’ll go for it. Then all you have to do is drop me off at Cole’s house and I’ll get a ride home with him and Dad will never know.”

I sipped my wine. “Have you thought about what will happen if he finds out you broke his trust?” Something I was busy doing at the moment.

“If I tell him the truth, he won’t let me go. I just know it.”

“What if we tell him together?”

“Like a tag team?” Izzy asked.

“Look.” I leaned closer so she could hear me over the din in the restaurant. “Your father isn’t unreasonable, he’s just concerned about you.”

“Too concerned. I just want to go to a dance with a boy.”

“Then let’s make it happen,” I said.

We practiced our pitch all the way back to Martin County. I could tell Izzy had gotten comfortable with the idea, so I had my fingers crossed.

Tony greeted us at the door. He’d shed his suit for more casual attire. I might be lusting after Liam, but I did have a pulse. He looked fabulous in slacks and a polo shirt. Very polished but in a relaxed way. Izzy handed him a box of her leftover pizza and said, “I bet you haven’t eaten yet.”

He patted her head, “You guessed right.” Then he turned to me as I lingered in the U-shaped drive in front of his salmon-colored five-thousand-square-foot-plus estate home. “Thank you for bringing her home.”

“Finley and I have to talk to you,” Izzy said, waving me forward.

I followed father and daughter inside. Like his office, Tony’s home was all decked out in midcentury modern. He had a lot of chrome and glass and molded plastic in bright colors. I recognized several Herman Miller pieces, only because Liv had taken me to an expo at an art gallery in Boca Raton.

I put my purse down on the floor, then sat in the surprisingly comfy lime green and chrome sofa. Tony sat opposite me in a chair that looked like it belonged on the starship
Enterprise,
while Izzy paced back and forth.

“What’s up?” Tony asked.

“It’s about the dance,” Izzy began. “I, um, I . . . Finley, you start.”