Miz Scarlet and the Acrimonious Attorney

by Sara M. Barton

  Kenny put his blinker on and pulled the Camry off the road and onto the soft shoulder of the highway. When he turned off the ignition, I knew we were about to rumble.

  “Do you know what your problem is?”

  “No, but I’m fairly certain you’re going to tell me.”

  “You’re damn right I’m going to tell you! You were the one who told me we needed to spend more time together, and now that I’ve made that a reality, you’ve got cold feet!”

  “Cold feet?” What an odd expression to use. That’s how you describe the behavior of someone doesn’t want to get married. “I have not said that I don’t want to spend time with you! It’s just that this is the first time we’ve had the chance to really work on a case together, just the two of us. Are you telling me that you don’t enjoy working with me?”

  Ha, two can play that guilt card, Captain Peacock! Let’s see you trump that!

  “That’s not the issue here, Scarlet.”

  “How is it not?”

  “We’re trying to take our relationship to the next level. That means we need to have some fun together.”

  “But I thought we were having fun together!”

  “You did?” Was that disbelief written all over his face?

  “I did.”

  “You had some maniac jump you and toss you in the back of a stolen pickup truck. That was fun for you?”

  “Okay, maybe that part wasn’t much fun, but it’s nice to problem-solve with you and to sort through all the clues.”

  “Was that what you were doing, with all that huffing and puffing, while I was on the phone, trying to get some work done?”

  “Well, you have to admit that you did spend a lot of time doing your own thing,” I reminded him.

  “My own thing? I’ll have you know I was working,” he corrected me. “And as for you, Miz Scarlet, what should we call what you did when you went off on your little biking adventure and left me behind? Not to mention the fact that you could have been seriously injured when you fell off your bike.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t mention it.”

  “So?”

  “So what?”

  “Is this what the future looks like for us? Your own thing takes precedent over our relationship?”

  “You think I’m doing my own thing? Are you suggesting that I don’t have room for you in my life?”

  “If the shoe fits....”

  “That’s just mean!” I looked out the side window. I will not cry. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he wounded me.

  “Do you or do you not love me?” he suddenly demanded. I was stunned by the unexpected emotional ambush.

  “What?” Where was all of this coming from? “You think I don’t love you?”

  “Oh, I’m sure you love me, but I’m beginning to think you love your mysteries more than you love me.”

  “That’s preposterous!”

  “Fine. Prove me wrong.”

  “By doing what exactly?”

  “Take the night off from the case and focus on us.”

  “I will if you will.”

  “What does that mean?” He glared at me.

  “You said you had to work tonight, to coordinate with your people. Isn’t that why I’m supposed to, as you put it, have plenty of time to rest up?”

  “Fine, I won’t work at all tonight!”

  “Don’t let me stop you. If you have work to do, by all means get to it. I will lounge around, eating bonbons and sipping my tea.”

  “You think I can’t take a night off?”

  “If the shoe fits....”

  “You’re on, lady. I am going to prove to you that I’ve got what it takes to make this relationship work.”

  “Oh, I see. And you’re suggesting I don’t?”

  “It’s time to see whether you’re all talk and no action,” said the seething man next to me. It sounded like a challenge to me, one I wasn’t going to refuse.

  “Bring it, buster!”

  “I will. And you’d better bring it too! For the next twelve hours, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you, not one peep about this case!”

  “You think I’m incapable of avoiding any conversation about this investigation?”

  “I know you!” He got the car started again. “You can’t stand to be around an unsolved mystery. It bugs the hell out of you!”

  “Balderdash!”

  “Balderdash? Who uses that word? I think you’ve been hanging around Hercule Poirot and Jane Marple a little too long.”

  “You’re just disgruntled because this case turned out to be....”

  “And there she goes, folks. She lasted all of about half a minute before she started talking about the case again. When it comes to the concept of verboten, she’s absolutely clueless.”

  “Fine!” I growled at him. “You don’t want me to speak about it, I won’t, in spite of the fact that I am sure it’s probably the best damn case you’ve ever....”

  “And even after she blew it and promised not to blow it again, she lasted all of ten seconds!”

  “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you....”

  “Don’t go there, Miz Scarlet. Don’t say something you will regret.” He wagged a finger in my direction. I stopped and stared at him, feeling totally confused. What had just happened? How did this all spiral out of control? Honestly, the man was beginning to drive me nuts. Take a deep breath, Miz Scarlet and hit the reset button.

  “Why would I regret telling you to pick the subject of our next discussion?”

  “Oh.” Chagrined, he gave me a sheepish smile. “I thought you were going to say something else.”

  “So it seems. Where I come from, we call that jumping the gun.”

  “You’ve got me on that one.”

  “Are we done arguing now?”

  “I believe we are.”

  “Thank goodness. This is not one of the activities that I look forward to doing with you on a regular basis.”

  “Nor do I.” He drove another couple of miles before he spoke again. “Actually, there is something that I would like to discuss with you.”

  “What’s that?” I inquired, even as my mind began to adjust itself to the challenge he had presented to me. I was pretty sure he meant it when he said I couldn’t utter a peep about the case. Just because he said I couldn’t speak about the case for the next twelve hours, that didn’t mean I couldn’t think about it or take notes, did it?

  “How do you feel about spending one weekend a month with me? We could do some traveling. It would probably mean you might need to have some help at the inn, someone who could cover for you while you’re gone.”

  “Oh, I think that’s reasonable. Now that we’ve got the routine down and I’ve got a few extra hands on board for private functions, we could probably muddle through.”

  We batted around some ideas, trying to find the work-around for how I could run an inn and still spend quality time with him. By the time we pulled into the parking lot of the Winn-Dixie in Tavernier, our verbal tussle was over and done, a distant memory that would soon fade into nothingness.

  “What are we in the mood for tonight, Scarlet?” He took charge of the shopping cart, wheeling it down the aisles. “How does steak and shrimp cocktail sound?”

  “It sounds good to me. Shall we do salad and baked potatoes too?”

  We also picked up some English muffins and a small carton of eggs for breakfast, along with a quart of orange juice, milk, and some coffee.

  “How are you holding up?” Kenny wanted to know, as we waited in line for the cashier to ring up our purchases.

  “Better than expected.”

  “Do you think you could manage to go for a bike ride?”

  “I can but try.”

  When we got back to Angler’s Reef, we unloaded the groceries and changed into our swimsuits for a ride to Library Beach on the bikes. When we got to the Monroe County Public Library, we turned off the Overseas Highway and made our way down Johnston Road, to
the little strip of sand that constituted the park. For the next hour, we frolicked in the shallow waters and talked about the future.

  “Let’s mosey down the road,” Kenny suggested, “and find out where it leads us.”

  “Ah, mosey...you’re a fan of old TV Westerns?” I laughed. “Was it Gunsmoke or Maverick that had you hooked?”

  “Actually, it was the movie, Shane.”

  “Why that one?”

  “It’s all about the man. Shane’s stuck between a rock and a hard place, a reluctant gunslinger who wants to give it all up, but he can’t because there are ruthless men trying to intimidate the homesteaders.”

  “That’s something that would stick in your craw, isn’t it?”

  “You know me so well, Miz Scarlet. My favorite scene is when Shane tells Marion that a gun is a tool, like an ax or a shovel, nothing more, nothing less. ‘A gun is as good or as bad as the man using it.’ I love that line.”

  “I can see why you do. You would have made a great marshal in the old West.”

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am,” he replied, giving me a little salute. “You flatter me.”

  “Do I?”

  “There’s nothing a man likes to hear more than kind words from a beautiful lady, ‘ceptin’ maybe the whinny of his trusty steed,” he drawled.

  “The one you ride when you round up the horse thieves and other varmints?”

  “Somebody’s got to do it.” Kenny leaned over and kissed my cheek. “It might as well be me.”

  “Of course, I can’t help thinking that the word mosey is your version of balderdash.” I gave him a wide grin.

  “Touché, Miz Scarlet.”

  We continued south and traveled across a long, narrow bridge that connected Upper and Lower Matecumbe, exploring the side streets and eventually winding up at Charli’s Shave Ice, where we enjoyed a treat.

  On the way back, Kenny pointed out a pod of dolphins leaping through the water a hundred yards or so from the bridge.

  “Aren’t they majestic, flying through the air like acrobats?” I reveled in the sight. “I always wanted to swim with the dolphins.”

  “Did you?”

  “I did. I think that’s something that should go on my bucket list.”

  “Good idea.”

  By the time we returned to Angler’s Reef, the sky had been painted in bold pink and orange brush strokes. It was nearly six o’clock.

  Kenny offered to fix dinner. “Why don’t you go lie down for a while and get some rest?”

  As much as I hated to admit it, I really was exhausted, achy, and after the long bike ride, more than a little stiff. “I think I will. Just don’t forget to wake me up when dinner’s ready.”

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  He was as good as his word, planting a kiss on my lips just after seven thirty. “It’s time to get up, love.”

  The dining room table was set for two. Kenny presented me with a bloody Mary, setting it down in front of me. “I’ll be right back with our first course.”

  Sitting there felt strange to me. Normally, I was the one running back and forth to the kitchen, carrying in platters and plates. But watching Kenny working in the kitchen was rather a thrill. This was a side of him I had never seen before.

  “This is a first,” he said. He placed the plate of chilled shrimp and cocktail sauce between us. “I’m so used to you fixing me meals.”

  “I like it,” I smiled, squeezing his hand. “I had no idea you were so handy in the kitchen.”

  “I’m handy in several rooms, Miz Scarlet.”

  “I’ll just bet you are.”

  We retired at ten, setting the alarm for morning. Climbing into bed beside Kenny, I curled up contently, resting my head on his chest.

  “Thank you for tonight. It was lovely,” I told him.

  “It passed muster?”

  “It certainly did.”

  “We’ll have to do it again, Miz Scarlet.”

  “I’d like that. And if you’re ever inclined to quit your day job, let me know. We use your culinary skills at the Four Acorns Inn.”

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  I woke up the following morning just after ten. Kenny’s side of the bed was empty. I rolled over to find the plantation shutters were open, inviting golden sunlight into the room. “Lovely.”

  Out on the balcony, he sat on one of the deck chairs, talking on the phone. I listened for a moment, but heard nothing. Content, I lay there, enjoying the sight of the blue water in the distance, framed by palm fronds wafting in the light sea breeze.

  “I suppose I should get up.”

  Reluctantly, I padded off to the shower, opened the glass door, and reached in to turn on the water. When the temperature was just right, I stepped into the steady stream and let it soothe my body. My bruises had begun to fade, and despite the fact that they were still tender to the touch and as ugly as sin, I was able to move more easily. That was a good sign. “Now, what can I wear that won’t make me look like I went ten rounds in the ring with the world’s heavyweight champion?”

  Cousin Lacey, always one to play up her good features, once gave me a piece of unsolicited advice. When you feel like something the dog dragged home from the woods, distract everyone with a burst of color. I slipped my arms through the sleeves of my vivid hibiscus print shirt and pulled on my turquoise shorts. Once I tied my hair in a pony tail, I applied some makeup. “That will do. Now, what shall I wear on my feet?”

  I was about to put on my sandals, but that little voice inside my head warned me that was a bad idea. It’s better to wear sneakers, especially if you have to run away from a killer, Miz Scarlet.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I slipped my feet into my cross trainers and tied the laces, feeling confident that I could handle whatever came our way today. I would finally get to meet Johnny Zee, the mastermind behind the blackmail plot. What would he be like? The anticipation of that delicious moment only heightened my excitement. I thought about that article I had read, in which he announced that he couldn’t wait for his ex-wife to be off his payroll. Looking back at our early perception of him, I wondered if we missed some important clues. What if that ex-wife was one of his many accomplices? Maybe that’s why he saw her as more of an employee than a human being he loved.

  “You’ll find breakfast is waiting for you in the kitchen, honey. Help yourself,” Kenny told me, poking his head in through the doorway.

  “Would you like anything?”

  “No, thanks. I’m on my third cup of java. I’ve been up since seven.”

  I toasted an English muffin and buttered it, grabbed a tangerine from the refrigerator bin, and then took a napkin from the holder on the kitchen counter. Stopping by the pot of coffee on the counter, I poured some into the mug, added cream and sweetener, and went back upstairs to join Kenny.

  “Good morning.” I greeted him with a kiss on the top of his head. “I see you’re already hard at work.”

  “Actually, I’m all done for the moment.”

  “I thought you and your peeps were getting together to coordinate.” I set down my breakfast on the side table and took the seat next to Kenny.

  “They beat me to the punch, which means that you and I have the rest of the morning to ourselves.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Well, I’d like to see if we can dig up information that will help us understand what Johnny Zee’s organizational setup might be. I want to review every fact, every website, and every article available.”

  “We don’t have a printer,” I reminded him. “Do you want me to send the links to your email address and you can open them from there?”

  “That works. Can you add notes to each of them, to help me understand what you think might be pertinent about the information?”

  “Oh, you want real research.” I smiled and took a long sip of coffee. “I thought you were just giving me busy work to keep me out of trouble.”

  “Well, I am, but I also know you, babe. You mig
ht just find a nugget or two of gold when you sift through the river of endless and obscure crap.”

  “Gee, thanks. Does that mean I win the Golden Shovel Award if I find something?”

  “You just might. Can you dig it?” he joked. Kenny was in a playful mood, relaxed and sure of himself. That meant that he believed we were in a good position as far as the investigation was concerned

  “It depends on what we’re shoveling, honey. I don’t really want to muck out the stable without my boots on.”

  “Yes, but if there’s a pony hidden away in the barn, it will be worth the trouble, won’t it?”.

  “I suppose so. What time are we leaving for Johnny Zee’s party?”

  “You have an hour and a half. We’re booked on Mudder’s Promise. The captain is sailing down from Key Largo. He’ll pick us up at the marina down the road. It was the only charter that still had seats and fishing gear for us.”

  “It’s Mudder, as in mud?”

  “It is.”

  “That’s not much of a boat name,” I remarked, peeling my tangerine. “It sounds more like a horse running in the fifth at Hialeah.”

  “Does it?” His lips curled into a slight smile as he stood up. “I’ll be in my Florida branch office, if you need me.”

  “Oh, now you have a Florida office?” Glancing up in time to catch sight of the wink he offered me, I shook my head. “I hope this is not a sign of what’s to come in our relationship. I’d like to think we have better things to do in the bedroom than to have you park your carcass on that bed and play tag with your cell phone for hours on end.”

  “Actually, I have no desire to sully our romance, dear heart. You will find me downstairs, using the dining room table as my desk. Come down when you’re done and we’ll compare notes.”

  “Be still my heart.” I blew Kenny a kiss. He pretended to catch it.

  “Till we meet again,” he called out over his shoulder as he left me.

  I finished the last of my coffee and set down my mug. With my phone in my left hand, I tapped the screen with my right index finger and pulled up a search engine. “What do I most want to know about Johnny Zee?”