“Well?” Thad leaned toward me.
“The automated message said that she won’t be in the office again until tomorrow morning,” I stated.
“Let’s not call anymore,” Thad insisted. “Let’s just go there tomorrow morning.”
“And say what?” I laughed.
“I don’t know. Something will come to us,” Thad decided.
Someone rang the bell on Thad’s phone. Thad checked the text message.
“The plot thickens,” he said again.
“What? What is it?” I demanded.
“It’s Farhad,” Thad observed. “He says he finished his business early. He’s going to the Sanibel house in a couple of hours, and he plans on making all of us dinner.”
“He’s nothing if not a hospitable and courteous master jewel thief,” I acknowledged.
“Look, Angie, none of this cornering Farhad and talking to him like you’re in a mob movie stuff, okay? We don’t know…We don’t know a damn thing really. And he’s my friend. And he has been for years. We need to tread very lightly on this around him,” Thad insisted.
“I know,” I nodded. “That’s the whole reason I threatened to kneecap that stool pigeon of a BASE jumper, see. We need to figure out what happened and clear Farhad if we can,” I nodded.
“But what if we can’t?” I saw a fresh bead of sweat on Thad’s bald head.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
We were silent for a moment.
“I know one thing for sure,” I decided. “I was banking on Farhad’s generosity of a free place to stay so I only budgeted money for airline tickets, seafood, the occasional cocktail, and a small amount of discretionary funds. Sanibel is a lovely place, but I don’t want to be homeless in Sanibel.”
“Especially because the police would probably make you jog in front of their squad car up and over the Causeway and down into Fort Myers if you were homeless,” Thad chuckled.
“Probably,” I agreed.
“Nothing to Farhad,” Thad nodded.
“Not one word,” I agreed.
Farhad looked every bit as attractive in person as he had in the pictures that I had seen of him. He had a certain glow too. I’ve seen it in my friends as they approach marriage. Farhad’s brown cheeks were just slightly reddened and that gave them the look of some ripe piece of newly discovered fruit. His black eyes were bright and soft. They were the eyes of a Kindergarten teacher who was really good at their job. His nose was like a slender candle accented by just a subtle little rounding like one half of one of those little rubber balls that kids buy for a quarter or two in those glass dispensers with the crank like the handle on a can opener. Farhad mainly had salt and pepper hair in the photos that I had seen, but it looked like he went all out for his wedding and dyed it just a lovely shade of glossy black that made his slightly curly locks look neat, yet long and lustrous at the same time. What I wouldn’t have done for hair that interesting.
He wore a pale blue dinner jacket, a pink button down shirt, a black ascot, and matching light blue slacks. And somehow that outfit did not look comical on him. No, it looked like it was made for him.
I amused myself imagining Thad, Dave, Jace, and Dave and Jace’s partners in that garish outfit. It was hilarious. Especially Thad. Thad would have looked like someone in a gay Mexican wedding mariachi tribute band.
I was hoping for two things as Farhad cooked. I was hoping that there would be seafood. And I was hoping that he would be making us an Iranian dish.
Turned out that Farhad was vegan, so the seafood was definitely out. And it turns out that Farhad thinks that the best vegan food anywhere in the world comes from India. So he was making us Chana masala with a vegetable curry. Both of which I make on occasion in big batches and take to work for lunch when I pack a lunch. I’ve had them a lot, and I’m good at making them.
Farhad wasn’t bad, but I’m certainly better.
After dinner, we moved into the lounge. (Yes, Farhad’s mansion has a lounge.) It makes the Jungle Room at Graceland look tame. There’s a vintage pink and white bar at the head of the room that looks straight out of the fifties if the fifties had been metrosexual. It looked like a place where a gay soda jerk might have served a pre-op transgender man an egg cream while a polyamorous lesbian Fonzie bumped the jukebox so that it would start anachronistically playing Elton John. There were also little booths in pink and white that looked at least a decade older where one could presumably share malts with Scooby and the gang.
Farhad touched the jukebox and jazz music started playing. It took me a second to recognize Miles Davis. He walked behind the bar and asked for our drink orders.
I ordered a screwdriver. (Florida has the best orange juice.) Then I bellied up to the bar with everyone else. After Farhad had mixed drinks for all of us, and a very complicated looking cocktail for himself, he walked back over to the jukebox. He silenced it.
“I have something that I need to tell you,” he declared as he walked back behind the bar.
Thad and I cast a quick glance at one another.
“I feel like I need to tell you about one of the wedding guests who will be staying here with us,” Farhad bowed slightly.
I took a sip off my drink. Farhad makes a strong drink.
“One of my relatives will be coming here from Iran. They will be wearing a burqa,” he sighed.
“So?” Thad wondered.
“So I’m just putting it out there. I know that you are all friends of Thad, and I trust Thad’s judgment completely. I know that you’re probably very progressive. But I believe that even some progressives cringe at the sight of the burqa. And they think that people in places like Iran really do hate our freedoms and want to commit jihad to force the world to obey Sharia law. It’s absurd. Especially in Tehran where I’m from.
Right now, the people of Iran, and especially the people of Tehran, have far more liberal views than the current regime is willing to acknowledge. The average person in Tehran is young, educated, and wants to move to a more open society. And this relative is no exception.
My relative may be male or female. Either way, they are taking the precaution of the burqa because if they were seen attending a gay wedding in the United States…well…that could be very dangerous. So they will be in a burqa the entire time that they are here for their own safety. They will not go out with us anywhere if we go out. They will just stay in their room and attend the wedding.
I am exceedingly grateful to this relative for having the courage to come to my wedding. And I want to make sure that this person gets treated with the respect they deserve. I sincerely hope that all of you see the burqa as a sign of bravery in this instance, rather than intolerance,” Farhad nodded.
“I’m glad that someone from your family could make it,” Jace nodded.
We all agreed.
It was a lovely evening, and Farhad had succeeded in completely charming me. But thoughts kept intruding into that scene in the lounge.
I so badly wanted Farhad to be innocent. I so badly wanted Nez to be the bad guy.
But Farhad matched the physical description of the main suspect in the jewel theft almost exactly, and Fez was a little, bloated bag of fluid and fat. Plus, Farhad had concluded his business early. Nez had been all but living at his disgusting little pizza shack.
Between the two of them all signs pointed to Farhad.
And I had not seen another single person of obvious Middle Eastern descent in the entire time that I had been on Sanibel.
9
Thad and I were at the Bailey-Matthews Shell Museum at precisely nine the next morning. The problem was the museum didn’t open to visitors until ten.
“This is even better,” Thad rubbed his hands together as we walked up to the museum. “They’ll believe that we are here for important business if we’re here this early, before the museum opens.”
“Exactly what is the nature of our serious business?” I asked.
“I was hoping you knew,” Thad s
ighed.
I just looked at Thad.
“What? Don’t you think that I wished that we had a plan too?” Thad demanded.
We found the doors by what looked like the offices for the museum. They had a buzzer by the door. We pressed the buzzer.
“Can I help you?” the voice demanded.
Thad shrugged his shoulders and looked at me.
“We have an appointment with Amy Wilson,” I said.
“What’s your name?” the voice demanded.
I gave her my name.
“I don’t see you on the calendar,” the voice accused.
“She told me that I could stop by whenever I needed to see her,” I lied.
There was a pause.
I became an important business woman, ala method acting, and added, “We’re here on important business.”
“She’s not here yet. She had to take her kid to daycare. She won’t be in until ten,” the voice sounded resigned, defeated.
Thad and I looked at each other with some surprise.
“Do you want to look around the museum until then?” the voice asked.
“Of course,” I replied.
Someone buzzed us in. A very young looking woman, maybe the youngest woman that I had seen on the island other than Gertrude Weisswalder’s barely legal butler, greeted us by the door. She kind of looked like that barely legal butler too. Surprisingly, this young little wisp of a delicate redhead with skin far too pale for the intense Florida sunshine was the one who had sounded so commanding over the intercom. She led us up to the museum, told security to let us in early, and said that somebody would come and get us when Amy got there.
I must say, a shell museum sounded incredibly boring to me. But it was actually kind of cool.
I’ve never been a jewelry or decorative arts kind of girl. I’m almost a complete philistine who can’t tell a Ming vase from a thrift store potter’s. I think that I could tell the difference between cubic zirconium and a diamond, but only because I believe that cubic zirconium can’t cut glass. But if I didn’t have a convenient piece of glass that I didn’t mind wasting on hand, I would never know.
And certainly the shell museum had a kind of decorative arts or jewelry type of vibe. But the shells were so much more interesting.
And I think part of that came from knowing that nature had made all of those shells. Of course nature makes every real jewel too, but to me all jewels look the same. Just the colors are different.
I know I’m a heathen.
And I may not be a girl. Because Alyssa and Thad and not diamonds are my best friends.
There was an impressive variety in the shells on display. The colors and the shapes dazzled. The shells ranged from plum colored, enclosed spiral stairs, to a calcium fan in glowing orange like the rays of a sun in a parallel universe.
It was really a feast for the eyes. It was so interesting that I forgot to worry about what I was going to say to Amy.
About that time I heard a voice asking a woman near us if they were Angie. I saw her walk toward us after that woman said no.
I swallowed hard.
Thad was still looking at shells.
“Are you Angie?” the woman asked squinting at me.
She was a middle age woman with a slim figure, toned arms visible under her black short sleeve blouse, thin, muscular legs in black pantyhose under a black skirt. She had a dark tan under too black hair that had to have been dyed. She wore black nail polish and had two little black studs for earrings. Her brown eyes looked confused. Her thin lips were drawn in the shape of the letter o. Her nose was a bit bulbous and it made her face look thinner and more angular than it actually was. I wondered if she was a marathoner. She looked like she could be. Maybe I could say that I was here to talk about an upcoming race or something.
“Amy!” Thad suddenly blurted! “Oh my God! It is! Come here you! I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Thad!” Amy blurted.
They embraced.
“Thanks so much for the surprise, Thad! I needed that. You made my day. That was a great idea to have your friend ask for me!” Amy beamed.
“Ye-ah,” Thad nodded. “That’s right you worked at that shell museum, didn’t you?”
Amy squinted.
“But come now. You got married. You’re no longer a Desjardins,” Thad shook his head.
“I got married,” Amy nodded.
She extended her ring finger. There were an impressive number of diamonds on that thing. Those diamonds alone might explain why her left arm was so toned.
“Amy,” Thad shook his head and crossed his arms.
“What?” she wondered.
“You had a wedding, and I wasn’t invited?” Thad demanded.
“It was a destination wedding in Bali. We couldn’t afford to fly everyone. So we just invited and flew out family,” Amy replied.
“And I’m not family?” Thad asked.
“No, I like you,” Amy rejoined.
“Alright, I guess I can let it go this time,” Thad said.
“There won’t be a next time,” Amy declared.
“So I’m just going to have to take my own trip to Bali?” Thad asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Amy nodded. “Are you on vacation down here? I haven’t seen you here for years, not since things ended between you and...you and Farhad.”
“Farhad is getting married, and my friend and I here are down for the wedding,” Thad said.
“Oh so that’s how it is. I didn’t get an invite,” Amy complained.
“I don’t know that I would have if he hadn’t wanted me to put a new floor in his ballroom,” Thad observed.
“Who’s he marrying?” Amy asked.
“Some guy…”
“Well, I certainly didn’t think that had changed,” Amy chuckled.
Thad laughed. “I don’t know much about him. Also Iranian American. Also a business owner. They met in New York. Looks like George Clooney. About all I know. Just right now I can’t even recall his name.”
“You and Farhad made such a good couple,” Amy declared.
“That’s the past,” Thad’s eyes darted.
“And it sounds like this new guy is just like him. And we all think we want someone just like us. But we don’t. We want people who fill in our gaps. We want people who are strong in the places that we are weak. We have something to offer people like that. If you’re married to the man in the mirror it’s basically just like talking to yourself, and you know what you think.
That was why you and Farhad were so good together. You had that commonality of being intelligent and witty and fun to be with, but you also were good at the things that the other one wasn’t as good at. You were true partners.
I’m worried that Farhad left you for his own reflection in a still body of water,” Amy said.
But I could barely follow what she was saying. How had I failed to remember until just right now that Farhad wasn’t the only Iranian American about to get married who spent time in Sanibel and was occupied on some secret mystery business that just might have been a jewel theft?
Maybe we could nab this guy, get him arrested, and, determined to have a wedding anyway, Farhad might decide to make an honest man out of Thad.
“I don’t know the man so I’m not going to comment,” Thad replied.
“Sure,” Amy nodded. “Did you just come by to chat or did you actually have some business?”
“I’m glad you asked,” Thad beamed. “We have some urgent business. My friend, Angie, here…”
Amy shook my hand and said, “Amy, pleased to meet you.”
“My friend, Angie, here,” Thad continued. “She met this guy at a resort, and she has a huge crush on him. They were just about to start things up when he suddenly had to go. He left so fast that he left his laptop bag behind. Of course I made her look through the bag, hoping we could find one of his business cards or something, return the laptop bag, and look like heroes.
All we found though was
your business card in one of the side pockets. And I said, you know, I bet that’s my friend, Amy. Let’s go say hi and see if she knows who this guy is. Well, Angie needed some coaxing. She was worried about looking a little crazy, but I told her, girl, this is not some romantic comedy, okay? The right man hasn’t been there all along, and the forces of the universe will not just conspire to bring you true love. If you want actual love, sometimes you have to do things that are a little crazy.”
“Yes,” Amy laughed. “Couldn’t agree more! So do you know this guy’s name?”
I shook my head.
“No,” Thad said.
“That complicates things,” Amy touched her chin.
I gave her a very detailed description of that distinguished, handsome, Vietnamese American with the most incredible eyes that I have ever seen.
“Sounds like a donor,” Amy furrowed her brow. “But I don’t have a lot of donors who aren’t white, sadly. And I can’t think of one that matches your description.”
Thad and I looked at each other.
“Ooooooooh!” Amy blurted. “I know exactly where I saw him. I send my lead fundraiser to a networking event in Fort Myers every month. I fill in when she can’t make it. I’ve gone there three times. And every time that I’ve been there, the man that you describe has been there. I’ve always tried to talk to him because I think he could be a donor. But it seems like a hundred different people always shake my hand and try to promote themselves before I can get to him.
But one time I did get to him. We shook hands. Then, before he could even tell me his name, his phone rang. He apologized and said he had to take the call. Then he apologized and said that he had to leave right away. I gave him my card. He just put it in some side pocket of his laptop bag and walked briskly out of the mixer.
So he’s a mystery man to me too. But if you want to find him, that networking event for this month is tonight over in one of those chain hotels in Fort Myers. I forget which one, but just do an internet search for networking in Fort Myers or something and it should come right up.”
“I knew you’d come through! I told my friend, Angie, that Miss Amy is divine, just a Goddess!” Thad beamed.
A Persian Gem Page 10
