Key Lime Blues (3 page)

“You Wes Darling?” the one on my left asked.

The other brother snickered and asked, “What the fuck kind a name is that for a detective?”

“I’m not a detective,” I said. I stood and they moved in unison to block me from stepping onto the dock. “Now you want to move aside and let me up onto the dock?”

“You look like the picture your mother sent us,” the first man said. “She said you could tell us where we can find Destiny.”

I groaned inwardly. “She sent you a picture?” I asked, but I knew the answer before he said it.

“She told our boss, Frankie, that you knew where Destiny was. Frankie sent us to see you.” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket, unfolded it and showed me the print.

It was a copy of the promotional picture I had taken when my mother made me vice-president of the agency. She could have sent it, or it could have been copied from the business section of the Detroit Free Press, where it once ran with an article on the firm. One thing was for sure though, it was my picture. “Yup,” I said. “It looks like me so I must be Wes Darling. Now who the hell are you?”

“I’m Bob,” the man holding the picture said. “And this is my brother, Willie. Like I said, we work for Frankie. We just want to know where we can find the broad, and you can go about your business.”

“I don’t know you,” I said. “And I don’t know that you work for the person who hired us. Tell you what—I’ll fill my mother in and she can tell your boss.”

“We could make you tell us,” Willie smiled as if the idea appealed to him, then he added, “Or we could just kill you.”

“You could try,” I said. While we stood there talking, three dinghies had come and gone. There was also a small sailboat gliding back and forth along the canal that had passed us twice not thirty feet from the dock. I nodded toward the sailboat. “Of course there would be a lot of witnesses.”

Bob followed my gaze, and then said, “Go ahead and call her. We’ll wait.”

I shook my head. “Not with you guys standing over me. You guys leave—I call my mother.”

“This is bullshit.” Willie turned to his brother. “Give me five minutes with this clown, and he’ll tell us anything we want to know.”

“Shut up, Willie.” Bob stooped down and we were looking at each other, eye to eye. “I got a feeling there
ain’t
so many people around here at night. If you’re playing games with us, we’ll be back. You understand what I’m saying?”

“I understand,” I said. Up close I could smell his cologne, something fruity I didn’t recognize. When he stood back up, the collar of his shirt spread open and I caught a glimpse of a teardrop tattoo he had stenciled just below the neckline. Unfortunately, the tattoo added a little weight to the threat. In many prisons, a teardrop warned the other inmates the wearer had killed a man.

I watched the two men meander back along the dock and noticed Willie walked with a slight stoop and was bow-legged. It wasn’t much, but it might help me identify them should the need ever arise. I waited until they were out of sight, and then sat back down in the boat. It looked like I was going to have to call my mother before I headed off to see Davies.

***

Detective Davies was standing in front of the police station smoking a cigarette when I walked up. From the back, she was damn good-looking; too bad we had to talk face-to-face. She seemed lost in thought and didn’t notice me until I stepped in front of her. She lifted her eyes, blew smoke in my face, and gave me an unfriendly look. It took me by surprise; I thought we had been on reasonably good terms when she walked out the previous evening.

“I was just getting ready to send out an all points for you. I thought maybe you weren’t going to show up.”

“Well here I am.”

“
Ain’t
I lucky.” Davies took a final drag from her cigarette, flicked the butt into the street and turned away from me. “Come on in.”

I hadn’t realized how hot it was outside until the cool interior air of the station hit me. I followed Davies past the duty officer, through a door and down a hall. She opened the door to a small room and invited me in with a toss of her head.

There was a table, several chairs, and not much else. She waited until I took a seat, then said, “I’ve got to get my notes and I’ll be right back.”

When she walked out I sat looking at the back of the door and thinking that Detective Davies was never going to win the most congenial cop award. I expected her to keep me waiting just for the hell of it, but she was back in less than two minutes.

She walked in carrying a file folder and two bottles of water. After placing the file on the table, she took the seat across from me and held out one of the waters. “I thought you might be thirsty.”

“Thanks.” I opened the bottle, took a sip to be polite, and set it down in front of me. “So, do you know what happened to Nick?”

“First things first.” Davies opened the file, took out an eight-by-ten photo and slid it across the table to me. As I’d walked to the station I had tried to prepare myself for the worst. I hesitated, picked up the picture, and glanced at it. My stomach began to churn and my heart fluttered.

It was Nick all right. He was lying on his back with his eyes open, and there was a jagged hole near his left ear. This wasn’t the way I wanted to remember Nick. I couldn’t help but wonder if his death was connected to the case, and I swore if it turned out the two brothers who had confronted me at the dock had anything to do with his death, they’d pay for it.

“It’s him,” I said. I drew a deep breath, forced my eyes away from the photo, and stood. “My mother is coming down to Key West to handle everything. Will they release the body to her?”

“She’s not next of kin—right?”

“No,” I said. “But when I spoke with her last night she said Nick doesn’t have any living relatives.”

“We don’t have a morgue here in town; we have to use the hospital. They’re going to be anxious to have the body picked up as soon as possible. Since I’ve still got to call your mother, I’ll see what the situation is and we’ll go from there. In the meantime why don't you give me your phone number in case I have any further questions.”

“You have any suspects?” I asked.

“Not unless we include you,” she said.

I hoped she was joking, but I’d never known a cop to show much of a sense of humor when it came to murder.

Chapter 4

I arrived at Dirty Alvin’s around eleven.
 
The place was filled to capacity, Billy was taking a break, and ‘Redneck Woman’ played on the Jukebox.
 
Billy sat at the table next to the small stage, smoking and chatting with Destiny.
  

Joe Fleming was working behind the bar and it was all I could do to bite back a smile.
 
Joe works construction during the week and helps out at the bar whenever he’s needed.
 
At forty-three years old, he was movie star handsome and built like a boxer, with a muscular chest and large biceps.
 
He was wearing a pair of too tight white jeans along with a flamboyant lime-green shirt he wore with the top three buttons undone to reveal his shaved chest. To top off his ensemble, he sported a lime-green baseball cap that read; don’t ask I’m gay.

I waited until Joe looked my way, held up a finger, and walked toward the bar while he pulled out a Miller
Lite
.
 
I worked my way through the crowd, picked up the beer, and said, “Thanks for covering for me.”

“Sorry to hear about your friend.”

I nodded, turned to face the room, and leaned back against the bar.
 
Tanya and Marissa were running around taking orders, but when Tanya looked up and saw me she excused herself and walked over.
 

 
Tanya’s skin was cocoa-colored, and her large green eyes worked to accentuate her mixed heritage.
  
I found her attractive despite the fact I hated her short spiked hair.
 
She wore a Dirty Alvin’s t-shirt tied off below her breasts, a pair of low-riding jean shorts, and I thought she was a hell of a lot hotter than the Amazon I’d just located for Frankie Szymanski.
 

The problem was, every time I made an effort to show a little interest Tanya backed away.
 
I figured part of the problem was that her father died from cancer only two weeks before I came to work for her. She was still grieving.
 
Beyond that I didn’t know much about her personal life.
 
I’d learned through a conversation with Marissa that Tanya lived alone, and I never saw her out with a guy.
 
Hell, for all I knew she could be gay, which might explain her aloofness toward me.

“How
ya
doing?” she asked.
 

“I’ll get by.”
  

“I didn’t think you’d stop by tonight.
 
You said your mother was coming into town?”

“She’s not here yet.”

“So you stopped in why—because you’re lonely?”

“Actually,” I said, choosing my words with care.
 
“I told my mother I’d wrap up the case my friend Nick was working on before he died.”

 
Tanya looked confused.
 
“I don’t understand.”

“In my past life, before I came to work for you, I was a private investigator.
 
I worked for my mother too, just like Nick did.”

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with your being here tonight.”

The jukebox went dead and I looked up to see Billy pick up his guitar and step up to the microphone.
 
When he started to sing an off-key version of Jimmy Buffett’s
 
‘Come Monday’, I glanced over to where he’d been seated and said, “I stopped by to ask you about her.”

She followed my gaze and her voice turned cool when she said, “What’s Gail done now?”

“Far as I know she hasn’t done anything.
 
I think it’s a case of unrequited love.”

Tanya let out a little snort.
 
“I’ve watched a lot of guys fall in love with Gail, but I’ve never seen her return it.
 
Tell your client he’s wasting his time.
 
What are you supposed to do, bring her a proposal or something?”

I shook my head.
 
“We were hired to find her and let the client know where she is.”

“Look—Gail’s had enough problems in her life.
 
Why don’t you tell your client you couldn’t find her?
 
She doesn’t need some lovesick guy chasing her all over the place.”

“I can’t do that,” I said.
 
“Besides, she’s a stripper for Christ’s sake.
 
She’s paid to have men chase after her.”

 
“She wasn’t always a stripper,” Tanya said.
 
“She’s put up with a lot in her life, and I’m asking this as a favor.
 
Gail and I were good friends at one time, almost like sisters.”

 
“I promised my mother I’d do this.”

“I never pegged you for a momma’s boy,” Tanya said, before she turned and walked away.

I wanted to run after her.
 
I wanted to explain it was too late to do what she asked.
 
Instead, I turned my attention to Destiny.
 
She was now standing in front of the stage, swaying to the music and looking more like a college girl on vacation than a stripper.

Destiny’s blue jeans were stylishly ragged and her white heels added to the impression that her legs went on forever. She wore little or no makeup and her red hair flowed across her shoulders as she danced.
 

While I stood there watching, three different guys came up and hit on her. She dismissed each of them.
 
She seemed totally into Billy and I figured Tanya was right; Frankie Szymanski was wasting his time chasing this girl.

After I finished my beer I set the bottle on the counter and looked around for Tanya.
 
She was behind the bar working the register. I was about to head over to apologize when my phone rang.

I wanted to ignore the call, but I’d been trained by the best.
 
In the detective business information is everything and I was on a case.
 
When I answered, a thick demanding voice on the other end asked, “Is she there?”

“Who the hell is this?” I asked.

“Who do you think it is asshole, George W. fuckin’ Bush?
 
You made a big mistake pissing my boys off.
 
They were ready to break both your legs after the incident this afternoon.
 
Your mother said Destiny would be at this Dirty Alvin’s place tonight.
 
Is she there?”

“How am I supposed to know?” I asked.
 

“Don’t be a smart ass.
 
You think I trust you after this morning?
 
I sent one of the boys to watch the place and he saw you go in.
 
Now is she there or not?”

I didn’t like Frankie Szymanski any more than I liked the brothers who worked for him. If I hadn’t promised my mother I would have hung up on him.
 
Instead, I reigned in my irritation and said, “She’s here all right.”