Murder By Lime: A Key West Culinary Cozy - Book 4 (6 page)

Tiara felt more than a little guilty for having fibbed to her mother so that she could leave work early. While it was true that she was tired after the events of the past couple of weeks, the real reason that she was leaving the shop was because she’d received a series of texts from Drew, explaining that he had been framed, but that he knew who the real culprits were and that he needed her help in gathering the evidence to give to the authorities so that he’d be exonerated. She hadn’t believed him at first, her trust had taken more than its share of hard knocks, but the more he pleaded, the easier it was to believe that the sweet, serene yoga instructor that she knew couldn’t possibly be a drug dealer and murderer.

The naïve young woman agreed to meet the fugitive at her mother’s house, because she knew that it would be quite a while before the shop was closed, so there’d be no danger of Marilyn appearing out of the blue. Somehow she didn’t think her mother would be quite as willing to listen and understand Drew’s plight. When Tiara arrived, she found the depressed yoga instructor camped out on a lounge chair in the back yard, drinking can after can of cheap beer.

“Here, I saved one for you,” he said quietly, offering her an already opened can.

The brew may have been cheap, but it was ice cold, and she gulped it down gratefully, thinking that it tasted sort of funny. Drew began telling Tiara his theory as to what had happened on his boat, and how the drugs had gotten into her apartment, but she found that she was having a difficult time concentrating. She felt dizzy and lightheaded, and there were times that the ground seemed to tilt beneath her, rocking this way and that.

“I don’t feel very well,” she murmured, holding her head in both hands because it felt as though it might drift away if she didn’t.

“Right on schedule,” Drew grinned, looking at his watch.

A moment of realization dawned upon the entirely-too-trusting girl. “You drugged me. You…awful…human…being,” her speech slowed and slurred. “I trusted you…” she mumbled, as she succumbed to whatever it was that he’d put in her beer, and darkness overtook her.

Wasting no time, Drew scooped Tiara up into his arms and carried her out to his car, pretending to kiss her in case any of the neighbors happened to be looking out the window. Bundling her into the front seat, and putting on her seatbelt to keep her sitting upright, he drove away at a pace that was slow enough to not arouse suspicion, and headed for the marina.

**

Detective Bernard Cortland had called ahead to the Coast Guard, who had a boat ready and waiting by the time he arrived at the marina. Records kept at the port indicated that a man fitting the description of the fugitive had rented a small boat nearly half an hour ago. Drew wasn’t just being sought in connection with the murder of Pedro, he also was wanted on federal drug charges because the bundle that he had thrown overboard while being chased by the Coast Guard a few days ago had been recovered, and contained several kilos of cocaine. The rented boat’s onboard tracking device indicated that the yoga instructor was headed for the same spot at which he’d been diving when they’d caught up with him last time, and they immediately set a course to pursue. They’d go in stealthy this time, without lights, making it difficult to spot them in the falling dusk.

**

Marilyn was worried and frustrated beyond belief, and nearly jumped out of her skin when the trees separating her yard from Tim’s rustled abruptly and her neighbor stepped through. Annoyed, she didn’t pause in her task of picking up the beer cans that Drew had discarded, but merely addressed the irritating man without bothering to look at him.

“What is it now, Tim?” she demanded, too weary for diplomacy.

“You’ll probably want this,” he said in his toneless manner. She looked up to see him holding something out to her, and her heart leaped when she saw what it was.

“Where did you get this?” she asked, snatching Tiara’s cell phone from his limp, fleshy hand.

“He threw it in the trees when they left,” he shrugged. “I tried to see if there were any good games on there, but she has a password, so I couldn’t get in.” He turned around and headed for home.

“Tim…wait!” Marilyn exclaimed. “Did you see Tiara? How…how was she?” she asked, not certain that she wanted to hear the answer.

“They were kissing,” he said flatly, making a face as though the thought disgusted him.

“Kissing?” she repeated, shocked. She didn’t even want to consider the possibility that Bernard might have been correct and that Tiara had gone with Drew willingly.

“Kissing,” he said again, stepping back through the trees and into his own yard.

**

Drew surged through the water at full throttle, not wanting to waste any time. He still had a shipment to pick up from Pedro’s competitor, the man who had hired him to kill the unsuspecting drug runner. He’d put enough of the tranquilizer into Tiara’s drink that she should be out of it for another hour. He thought about killing her, but then he’d have to deal with the logistics of disposing of her body and avoiding getting caught with a corpse, so he figured he’d avoid it if he could. Besides, she was a sweet kid, trusting, and he felt a bit of remorse at having duped her for so long.

His plan was to dive down for the shipment, which would be hidden under a tunnel of coral like the others had been, retrieve it, stash it in the boat, and dump Tiara on a section of beach, where she’d wake up not knowing what had happened or how she’d gotten there. The police would focus on her and her safety, and by the time they thought to come looking for him, he’d be safely on his way out of the country with enough drugs to finance the entire trip and then some. The former yoga instructor was really looking forward to his early retirement in South America. He had already selected the town that he was going to live in…one where almost no one would bat an eye at the arrival of an American who had no need to work for a living.

Dropping anchor, he geared up and slipped nearly silently over the side of the boat into the dark water, flashlight beaming from a band on his forehead. Drew swam through the depths, well-practiced at seeking out the hiding spot after dark, finding the package that he was looking for almost immediately. Surfacing with the bundle in hand, he heard the low rumble of what could only be a boat motor, but, eyes accustomed to the flashlight, he couldn’t see well enough to pinpoint the source of the sound. He reasoned that it couldn’t be very close if he couldn’t see it, so he wouldn’t worry about it. Extinguishing the head lamp, he pushed the latest batch of cocaine up the ladder ahead of him and flopped it over the side, lowering himself down after it. The sound of a motor loomed closer, and as his eyes adjusted to the growing darkness around him, his jaw set as he recognized the outline of a Coast Guard recovery boat.

Moving more quickly now, he pulled up the anchor, which made quite a racket in the evening’s twilight. Once he’d stashed it, he eased the throttle forward, planning to slip quietly away. If they could run without lights, so could he. Pleased with himself for his sneaky plan, Drew piloted the small boat away from the site, smirking, until a swath of light from the Coast Guard’s search beacon swept over him, highlighting him and his craft with the intensity of the midday sun. A voice came via bullhorn, ordered him to drop anchor and prepare to be boarded. The fugitive shook his head, determined. He’d eluded them once, there was no reason that he couldn’t do it again.

Tiara began to stir in the passenger seat beside him, groaning and waking up ahead of schedule. He hadn’t bothered to bind her wrists or ankles, thinking that he’d have plenty of time to drop her off on a deserted stretch of beach before she woke up.

“What’s happening?” she mumbled as the boat lurched forward and began turning in a long arc.

“Stay seated and keep your mouth shut and no one will get hurt,” Drew growled, trying to concentrate on his driving. The bow of the small craft leaped and slapped against the waves, jolting them in their seats, and the salt spray on her face brought Tiara fully to consciousness.

“Where are we? What’s going on?” she demanded, alarmed, and more than a little put out about the way that he’d spoken to her.

“I said shut up, princess, and I meant it,” he glared at her briefly before turning his full attention back to the boat’s controls.

Tiara shielded her eyes with her hands and tried to see the boat behind them that was bathing them in the bright light. Her head throbbed abominably, and she felt sick to her stomach from being tossed about in the tiny craft. The Coast Guard issued another order for Drew to drop anchor and prepare to be boarded, giving the frightened young woman a glimmer of hope, as she realized that the “good guys” were on their tail. Help was on the way!

“You drugged me,” she said, remembering.

“Shut up,” Drew barked, not looking at her.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she faked a greater degree of nausea than she was currently feeling, a plan in mind.

The fugitive looked at her with utter disgust and impatience. “Get to the side, I don’t want that in here,” he ordered.

Tiara quickly assessed the angle of the boat, and the path of their pursuers, and headed to the side, pretended to retch. When Drew was again fully absorbed in piloting the boat, she raised both of her hands above her head, signaling the boat behind them, took a deep breath, and launched herself up and out into the water, which felt a bit like hitting the sidewalk at their current speed. Underwater, it took her a moment to get her bearings, and she breathed out slowly as she kicked and paddled toward the light that dappled the surface, slowly releasing her breath.

When she surfaced, she saw a Coast Guard diver in a small rescue raft, roughly the length of a football field away, speeding toward her, as the two boats disappeared in the distance.

When Marilyn arrived at the marina, Tiara was wrapped in a prickly but warm woolen blanket, sipping a mug of chicken soup. The quietly composed young woman saw her mother and burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry, Mom,” she cried when her mother wrapped her in a relieved embrace. “You were right, he was a bad person. I feel so stupid,” she sobbed, all the angst and betrayal of the last several days finally bursting forth.

“Honey, there’s no way that you could’ve known,” Marilyn rubbed her back. “I didn’t know either, I just thought he was too old for you,” she admitted.

“Will you take me home with you?” she asked pitifully. “I just want to curl up on the couch with my cat and pizza, wine and a movie.”

“Me too, sweetie. Me too,” her mother agreed, feeling protective and thankful that her daughter had survived the ordeal. She figured that it would be better for everyone if they left before the Coast Guard boat containing Drew came in, so she stood with her arm around Tiara and headed home.

**

“Guess who the new Yoga on the Beach instructor is,” Tiara sang out, practically floating into the shop.

Marilyn and Kelcie exchanged amused grins. “Who might that be?” her mother asked.

“Yours truly,” she beamed.

“Well, good for you,” she approved.  “As long as you can still get to your “real job” on time.”

“Don’t worry, I’m starting the classes an hour earlier so that I can, and that way it won’t be as hot either,” Tiara smiled, pleased with herself.

“Looks like I might have to start going again and get this tired body back into shape,” Marilyn sighed.

“I’ll be ruthless in correcting your form, you know,” her daughter threatened with a grin.

“I figured that,” her mother nodded. “Now get to work, we’ve got a store to run,” she shooed her into the office, laughing all the way.

The bell above the door jangled, and Marilyn jogged to the front to wait on their first customer of the day, but was surprised to see Carlos Mechago standing on the other side of the counter.

“I heard they finally put the drug-dealing killer in jail,” he mused, without even a hello.

“Carlos, I owe you an apology…I’m so sorry that we even suspected for a moment that you had anything to do with that whole mess. You’ve never been anything but kind to me, and I hope you’ll forgive me,” she asked quietly, feeling awful.

“Ah senora, con men can fool even the smartest among us,” the supplier shrugged easily. “We’ll just pretend it never happened and do business like we always have, yes?” he suggested.

“Well, yes, but I have one condition,” Marilyn crossed her arms.

“Oh?” he raised his eyebrows in surprise and blinked at her.

“Yes, anytime you come in, you get a free pie if you’d like one,” she grinned broadly.

The supplier chuckled. “Well, if you insist,” he agreed, nodding.

“Thank you for being so understanding about all of this, Carlos. I’m glad we’re still able to do business together,” she said, sliding a pie out of the refrigerated case and boxing it up with a lemon yellow bow on top.

“The pleasure is mine, senora,” Carlos accepted the treat with a hungry gleam in his eye. “I’ll send my son over tomorrow morning with your order,” he promised, heading for the door.

“I’ll look forward to it. Have a great day,” Marilyn waved as he closed the door behind him.

She went back to the walk-in refrigerator to grab another pie to fill the spot that had been vacated by her gift to Carlos, and as soon as she had placed it in the display case, the bell over the door jangled again, this time announcing the arrival of Detective Bernard Cortland.

“Why is it that every time I see you these days, I cringe a little bit?” Marilyn asked, teasing.

“Hmm…beats me,” the detective deadpanned. “Is it my new cologne?”

Chuckling, she shook her head. “No, I’m thinking that it’s probably because every time I see you, someone is either missing, arrested, or in deep trouble.”

“Actually, I just kind of felt like having a slice of the best pie in the Keys,” Bernard shrugged, eyeing the display case hungrily.

“Well, I guess I can do that for the man who saved my daughter’s life,” she smiled gratefully.

“I had help,” he blushed modestly.

“Speaking of having help…you totally made up that story about criminals coming back to give their victims confidence in their good intentions, didn’t you,” Marilyn accused, arms crossed.

Cortland raised a hand. “Guilty,” he nodded. “But, when I have a seriously scared and determined mother who wants to choke the life out of a dangerous fugitive with her bare hands, I will use whatever means necessary to keep her safely at home. I needed room to work without worrying about yet another person getting hurt,” he lectured her gently.

“I’m generally pretty good at taking care of myself. I’ve been doing that for quite a few years now,” she returned, secretly pleased that he’d been worried about her safety. Yes, it was his job to worry about the safety of citizens, but when his concern is backed up by those dark eyes and adorable dimples…oh my.

“So…about that pie…” Bernard said.

“Oh, right! Yes, of course,” Marilyn shook herself, reigning in her wayward thoughts. “Were you thinking about just a slice, or did you want a piece now and the rest to go?” she asked, regaining her professional composure and feeling extremely relieved to know that the detective couldn’t read minds.

“Let’s do a piece here and the rest to go,” he decided. “That way I won’t have to make breakfast for the next few days.”

“I’m a big fan of pie for breakfast myself,” she replied, plating a slice and taking it to one of the bistro tables for him. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Bernard agreed, taking a seat.

He was savoring his first bite of the luscious dessert when Tiara came up front carrying a stack of papers.

“Oh gosh, what now?” she asked, fear in her eyes, when she saw the detective.

Marilyn and Bernard exchanged a glance and grinned at each other.

“I’m actually just trying to enjoy a piece of pie,” he said, digging in.

“Really?” she asked tentatively.

“Really,” her mother assured her.

Tiara let out a sigh of relief. “Awesome! Well in that case,” she marched up to the detective’s table. “You should come check out Yoga on the Beach,” she handed him a flyer. “I’m teaching it every morning at seven, and all skill levels are welcome. You could use a little stress-relief, right?” she smiled hopefully, selling her cause.

“Since you and your mom came to town, yeah, I’d say that’s a fair statement,” he replied dryly.

“Be nice, or I’ll charge you double,” she warned him playfully.

“Worth every penny I’m sure,” the detective’s voice was tinged with just the slightest bit of kindly sarcasm.

“Absolutely,” Tiara moved to the computer beside the register. “And we’re filling up fast, so you might want to get online soon,” she directed.

“I’ll get right on that,” was the amused reply.

Marilyn’s mind wandered, thinking about showing up for Yoga and seeing the tanned and trim detective there readying for a pose.

“Ms. Hayes,” Kelcie’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “I think the oven is broken again.”

The pie shop owner sighed. “Back to business as usual,” she said to Bernard, who had just finished the last crumbs of his pie and drained his coffee. “Enjoy your day,” she smiled.

“You too,” he replied, watching her as she walked behind the counter and into the kitchen.

Tiara’s sharp eyes missed nothing. “Mom said she’s probably going to start being a regular at my class too, just FYI,” she tossed out casually.

“Good to know,” the detective had the beginnings of a blush rising as he stood to go.