Think Before You Speak (22 page)

“We only share a name these days, I’m
afraid,” I offered. “My father and I don’t see eye-to-eye when it
comes to money, marriage vows…pretty much everything.”

“And that is why you live on your own and
tend bar?”

I swallowed the acidic discomfort that
erupted in my belly and put on a brave face. “I prefer to control
my own destiny without shackles forced upon me.”

Did the scar near his mouth just twitch? Was
that amusement twinkling in his eyes? The flick of the lighter
covered any reaction in a puff of smoke.

He settled into the tufted cushion with a
sigh. “I understand we have a mutual acquaintance.”

“Yes, sir,” I responded, grateful to get the
conversation on track as the minutes counted down toward my Vette’s
potential demise. “Benny thought you might be able to provide some
information.”

“Ah yes, Benny. I haven’t had the pleasure of
seeing him in many years. How is the old man?”

Talk about your pot calling the kettle black
– or in this case gray. “He’s good, considering.”

“Considering?” The drug lord leaned
forward.

“W-well,” I stuttered again. I never thought
to ask Juarez what I should and shouldn’t talk about with Ricardo.
In all the hours I’d fussed and fretted about this meeting, never
once did I imagine sharing a smoke and cocktails over polite
conversation. “He lost his daughter a few months ago.”

A slow nod. “Yes, I remember hearing about
that. To find out you have a daughter only
after
her
death…unfortunate indeed.”

Another languid draw on the cigar while he
gauged my reaction. I harbored no doubt he was fishing for more
information. In this instance, my disease ridden mouth stayed shut.
It took a proverbial hammer and nails, but it stayed closed.
Silent. Mr. Ricardo wouldn’t get anything else from me.

Finally he released smoke in a long and
elegant exhale that reminded me again of Janine’s grandfather. “Now
he repays your kindness for catching her killer.”

“I didn’t exactly catch him,” I admitted.

“But you led authorities to the killer.”

“You could say that.”

I crossed and uncrossed my legs like a
nervous teenager on her very first date. Ricardo already knew
pretty much everything about the situation with Amy. About my
involvement. For a man who hadn’t seen his
friend
in many
years, he stayed well informed about the ambassador. Was it
possible the Juarez cartel already suspected Benny of playing in
the wrong pond with authorities? If so, was that the real reason
I’d been granted this interview?

Twenty minutes ticked down quick, so I had to
keep him talking. “I must say, Mr. Ricardo, you have a lovely home
for a mere goods distributor.”

Another tip for you, ladies. If you ever need
to redirect conversation to a new topic, just stroke a man’s – er,
ego. Ask him about his job. His accomplishments. Show appreciation
for those material possessions like his car or house – unless his
name is Nick. Once started, most men will brag about their prowess
in spades. Until the evening wanes. Until you can’t wait for him to
drop you off at your place and leave.

Okay, sometimes it does backfire, especially
if you’re under a time crunch – and again, if your date is Nick. To
speed things up, you can always go back to stroking something else
if there’s chemistry.

And yes, I meant it dirty that time.

Ricardo acknowledged my comment with a wave
of his cigar. “For someone from such humble beginnings, it is good
to show others that hard work pays off.”

“The beautiful mahogany paneling,” I started
as I rose and paced the study for something to do besides sit in
fear. It also gave me a head start if I needed to make a quick
escape. “The elaborate stairwell in the foyer. And if I’m not
mistaken, the runner in the hallway is Persian, yes?”

A hint of a smile. “Your cultured upbringing
serves you well.”

“But I’m curious,” I continued. “You strike
me as more of a stone manor kind of man. Big. Strong. Why the
delicate Victorian?”

The hard glint in his eyes tempered the
smile. Crap – had I stepped in it already? How long did Mr. Tall
Dark and Scary say those codicils lasted?

“This is only one of my homes,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“I built it for my
mamita
.”

Throughout our conversation, he’d covered his
accent well. Probably had years of training to temper it. But the
mention of his mother dropped the façade faster than a cold front
in January, and the temperature in the room chilled. ‘Course that
might have more to do with the vent grate hidden among the wood
grain and blowing cold air up my shorts.

“As I said, it is a lovely home.” But no
amount of sucking up could correct my off-course steering.

Mr. Ricardo rose. “Why did you wish to see
me?”

Direct and to the point. Might as well
approach him in kind. Most businessmen preferred it in the long run
anyway.

“A long-ago mutual acquaintance has
rehabilitated his life,” I offered. “Much like you have yours.”

The derisive snort indicated my veil of
flattery was thin to obvious. “Reggie Brown. Or do you call him
Reginald von Braun, too?”

The revelation silenced me for a moment as I
struggled to drag my jaw off the floor. “You know?”

“Of course, I know. Known since the flaming
tart returned from New York and opened his little decorating
business. Did a respectable job on this place too, I might
add.”

The brakes in my brain screeched to a stop so
fast, I was sure smoke tendrils rose from my ears. “Wait, wait,
wait. He did the interior design here? For your mother?”

“He
is
the premier decorator in the
region, and my
mamita
deserved the best,” Ricardo said.
“However, my attorney handled the details, because if he’d even
seen my name, Reggie would’ve turned tail and returned to New York
like the coward he is.”

Okay, so at least he wasn’t aware that Reggie
only pretended to be gay. No need to bring that up and stir the
kettle further. “So if you’ve known all this time, why blackmail
him now?”

“Blackmail?” he thundered before taking
another puff of his cigar then stubbing it out in an ashtray.
“Tomas Ricardo would never stoop to blackmail. I have no need for
small change.”

I guess the saying there’s no honor among
thieves was a misnomer – and I’d just offended one of the big ones
by accusing him of blackmail. Scratch another name off the list.
Maybe.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Ricardo,” I said in my most
placating tone. “But I simply needed to make sure it wasn’t you
going after Reggie because of any…prior connections. This has
simply devastated him at the worst possible time.”

A curt nod acknowledged my apology like a
gentleman who’d spent years learning the ropes of elite circles so
as to better move among them. Too big to resort to blackmail? Yeah,
I wasn’t so sure. Perhaps not monetary blackmail, but definitely
one to hold information over someone’s head to get them to dance to
a new tune. I’d learned firsthand how that worked watching the
sperm donor move in the corporate world. And the religious realm.
Why not in the criminal?

Hmm. Shake hands and grease palms. Seemed
there was little separating any enterprises these days.

“So little Reggie’s in trouble, is he?” Mr.
Ricardo mused. “And asked you to help after your previous
success.”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a success.
More of…”

“Perhaps my network could discover the
culprit for you, Miss Bohanan,” Ricardo interrupted. “After all, a
woman of your background and reputation should be more careful
about rubbing shoulders with the seedy underbelly of this
city.”

Please tell me that wasn’t a threat. There
was no way I was gonna place myself in Ricardo’s debt – no matter
how innocent the
goods
he distributed. No way, no how, and a
big
hell
-to-the-no.

A glance at the clock informed me I was mere
moments away from seeing the Vette play the accordion. I just hoped
my phone, Janine’s phone, and the dashboard time display were
synchronized so Janine didn’t get confused and jump the gun.

Hey, the girl is smart, but there’s something
to be said for the impact of nerves on reaction time. One of the
reasons why firearms training focused on hitting a target in center
mass instead of aiming for something smaller like a hand, leg, or
even the head.

“You’ve been gracious with your time, but
you’ve told me all I needed to know,” I said inching my way toward
the door.

I missed the air vent right away as a trickle
of fear oozed down my spine. The opportunity to escape loomed
before me – and the chance to save my baby car from sure
destruction.

In two strides, Ricardo stood before me with
his hand on the doorknob. “It has been a pleasure to meet you, Miss
Bohanan. I hope we have the opportunity to see one another
again.”

Sure, like when the Cleveland Browns win the
Super Bowl.

***

To get away as swiftly as possible, I didn’t
waste time switching seats and instead told Janine drive to her
house where I’d take over. I just had to remind her to wait for the
gates of the compound to open before driving through them. We were
both in a rather silent state of shock to escape a goods
distributer’s property unscathed.

Seeing Seth there and then meeting an
obviously successful gang leader, I had far too much to contemplate
on the drive to the De’Laruse mansion to waste time on small talk.
At least by the time I dropped off my best friend, my hands were no
longer shaking.

So instead of imagining how close I’d come to
being ground into chicken liver pâté, I chose to spend the drive to
my place in classic avoidance. Rock music bellowed from the Vette’s
speaker system, the pounding percussion and guitar riffs hammering
my skull to drive away the chills and thrills of toeing the line of
the law. If Zeke could see me now.

I had the information needed, which would
both satisfy and terrify Reggie. On the one hand, I was pretty sure
Switch hadn’t sent the blackmail note. I mean, yes the guy had the
money for the high quality paper stock and likely had someone on
staff who was trained in calligraphy. But if he’d known Reggie’s
story all this time, why hadn’t Switch made life miserable for my
friend before now?

Which brought me to the other hand. I wasn’t
so sure I should share the part about the former gang leader turned
high-class goods distributor being aware of Reggie’s entire ruse.
Well, maybe not the
entire
ruse. Switch still thought his
former protégé was gay.

I really needed to get my script straight
before talking to my friend over this whole tidbit.

So with that realization, I once again faced
a very short list of blackmailer candidates. With sketchy present
actions combined with her career contacts, Lorraine continued to
top the list. If I hoped to accomplish much more before reporting
to work Wednesday night, tomorrow’s lunch and shopping excursion
with Mom would have to be cut short.

And after skipping out on her last week and
shortening our visit this week, she would not be happy.

My cell phone dinged with an incoming text
just as I pulled into the garage. At this late hour, there were
only a handful of people it might be. Janine needing to vent? Grady
with an emergency at the bar? Oh, I hoped not. After fishing the
phone from my purse, the surprise sender made my heart tick up a
notch and a smile tug at my lips. Radioman.

Custom dictates 24 hrs B4 contact after first
date. I waited 24.1 2 say looking 4ward 2 seeing U soon.

In the excitement as I focused on replying, I
failed to see the wall of man standing in the shadows until I
plowed right into him. The only thing I heard as he clamped a hand
over my mouth to stop the scream was my phone shattering across the
asphalt.

I twisted in the vice-like grip and bit down
hard on a misplaced finger before bringing my knee up to connect
with that oh-so-delicate and usually flaccid spot between the legs
of the male persuasion.

And trust me, I could be very persuasive with
my life on the line.

Here’s another tip, ladies. Being a single
woman on her own in a big city, it is important to carry either a
can of pepper spray or take self-defense classes. There’s also
conceal carry, though some people have trouble pointing a gun at
another human being, much less possessing the ovaries necessary to
actually pull the trigger. Having dated a Texas Ranger, you can
imagine which one of those choices I’d picked. Actually, I’d chosen
all three – or had them forced upon me.

If your purse is like mine, pepper spray can
be difficult to access at a moment’s notice. Plus, its
effectiveness isn’t always guaranteed. Unlike a bullet. For some,
the idea of taking a life, even in self-defense, is something they
couldn’t live with. Me? When it came right down to it in a mugging
or attempted rape, it was either me or him – and I’ll be damned if
it was me. You just needed the mental fortitude under pressure to
remember to remove the safety.

Only problem with carrying a gun in your
purse is the same as pepper spray – it gets lost in the muddle of
wallet, checkbook, keys, lipstick, powder, emergency underwear for
those unexpected sleepovers, condoms, etc.

Or you fail to put it inside your purse in
the first place.

Since tonight’s excursion involved visiting a
person of questionable character, who probably wouldn’t have let me
within ten inches of his person without the requisite pat-down Mr.
Tall, Dark and Scary had provided, I’d wisely left it in my
closet.

When my knee made the connection, the
perpetrator released me and fell to his knees with a loud
umph
before I fished the pepper spray from my purse and
doused him good before sprinting into my building and up the stairs
two at a time. My hands shook so bad I could barely hold onto the
keys to let myself in before slamming the door shut and throwing
every bolt, chain and the proverbial kitchen sink at it.