Evie gave her a sad face. “I’m so sorry about your father, dear.”
“Thank you. It was a long time ago.” Francesca’s long eyelashes swung down towards her plate. It was obvious she didn’t like to talk about it.
“Francesca is from the US originally,” I said before taking a big spoonful of mashed potatoes covered in Evie’s savory chicken gravy.
Evie looked surprised. “Oh, are you? I guess I just assumed you were from the island. What part of the US?”
“Florida,” she said before adding, “Boca.”
“Oh, Boca Raton is lovely.” Evie glanced over at her husband. “Al and I visited Boca Raton for a conference in… what was it, Al? Sixty-six?”
Al didn’t even look up from his supper. “Sixty-nine. It was right after Jim was born. Remember? We left the kids with your mother.”
Evie’s eyes brightened. “Oh, yes. You’re right! Jim’s our youngest. He was kind of our surprise baby. I never left any of the other children when they were born, but sometimes you get to the end of the line and, well… you just need a break.”
Francesca smiled at her. “Oh, you sound just like my mother. She used to tell me that all the time. She’d say, ‘Having six boys will be the end of me.’ Then she’d send my brothers to visit my aunt and uncle so we could have girl time and she could catch her breath.”
Evie smiled sweetly. “Ahh, I’d like to meet your mother. I bet we could swap some stories!”
“I think you sure could,” Francesca said through a chuckle.
“Do you have any children, dear?”
I heard Francesca’s breath catch, and suddenly all the air felt like it had been sucked out of the room. I tried to look at her without it being obvious. She didn’t wear a wedding ring, but I’d never actually asked her if she was single.
Francesca looked up and gave Evie a tight smile. “No, I don’t have any children. I’ve never been married.”
“Oh, well, a woman as beautiful as yourself shouldn’t have a difficult time finding suitors.”
Francesca lifted her brows. “Oh, you’d be surprised by the types of men that approach me,” she chuckled. “No, there’s a reason I’m single. The right man just hasn’t come along yet.”
Evelyn Becker turned her blisteringly blue eyes on me then. “Well, I sure know someone who’s single. Don’t you, Terrence?”
Hearing my middle name come out of Evie’s mouth reminded me of my mother. I rubbed the bristle that had already started to regrow on my chin and quirked a grin. “Yeah—you know, I hear Gary Wheelan’s on the prowl.”
Evie swatted the linen napkin across the table at me. “Oh, Terrence. You’re such a little jokester.”
“So I’ve been told.”
While I thought Francesca Cruz was one of the most deliciously appetizing women I’d met on the island, I knew better than to start something with her that I couldn’t finish. Because after the clusterfuck of a relationship I’d just gotten out of, there was no way I was interested in another one. All I could handle for the time being, and possibly forever, was casual, no-strings-attached sex.
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “Evie, you didn’t happen to make any pie to go with this amazing meal, did you?”
Evie’s eyes widened. She squealed and pushed herself back on her chair. “You know me so well, Terrence. Of course I did! I made you your favorite chocolate pie.”
I grinned at her. “I knew it!”
“Are you ready for a slice?”
I looked down at my plate. I had a lot more chicken I wanted to eat, but I also wanted to chat with Francesca about the case without Evie listening in. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Evie stood up and walked towards the sliding French doors. “I’ll be back in a jiff.”
When she was inside the house with the door shut behind her, I turned to look at Francesca. “So, now that you’ve had a chance to hear the kidnapper for yourself and had a little time to think on the situation, do you have any great ideas?”
Francesca put down her fork, almost like she was also thankful to have steered the conversation back to a safe topic and off her dating life. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I do have an idea. Two of my brothers work at the King’s Bay Marina, which is on the other end of the island, and three of my brothers run a charter fishing service. I’m pretty sure between all of them I can get us access to a boat. I’d say first thing tomorrow morning, we ride out to Gull Island, scope it out. See what kind of trap we could set. Maybe I could even get a few of my brothers to help us out.”
I leaned back in my seat to picture the takedown. We’d have all of Francesca’s brothers lying in wait on the island. Old Smitty and Harry would show up with Pam, her arms tied behind her back. They’d be armed, of course, but so would Francesca’s brothers. They’d shoot, Smitty and Harry would fall to the sand, Pam would be free, and I’d still have seven million dollars in my bank account. I smiled. “Perfect.”
She grinned. “Yeah? You like that idea?”
I nodded. “I do. What do you think, Al?”
Al moved his fork across his plate but didn’t look up. “I think the kidnapper’s gonna think of that.”
I swatted a hand at the air. “Nah, he’s not gonna think of that. He’s practically a kid!”
“I thought you said he was in his thirties.”
“Or twenties.” I shrugged.
“You’re in your thirties and you thought of it. I’m sure he’s seen the same movies you have,” said Al.
“Al could be right,” said Francesca. “If he’s got eyes on the island and we go out there during the daylight, he’s gonna see us and know we’re laying a trap.”
“Fine, then let’s go out tonight. As soon as it’s dark.”
“I’m not sure I can get a boat rounded up that quickly. I’ll have to talk to my brothers.”
“And you’ll have to change out of that uniform. Because if they do have eyes on us, and they see you in that uniform, then they’ll know I talked to the cops.”
Francesca nodded. “Well, obviously. But for now, I should get back to work. I could explain away a short absence, but not the rest of the day. I’ll look into that picture you gave me and see if I can’t get a lead on the car that picked Pam up. I’ll also call my brothers on the way back to work and see if I can set something up for tonight.”
I rubbed my hands together excitedly. “Perfect. I owe you big-time.”
She nodded. “Yeah, you do.” She pointed her finger at me. “And don’t think I won’t collect.”
I held my hands up defensively. “Hey, I hope that you will! So, what should I do in the meantime?”
“I think you should get your butt over to the bank and see what it’ll take to get your hands on that cash.”
My mouth gaped open. “What? Why? We’ve got a surefire plan!”
Francesca frowned. “Drunk! It’s hardly surefire. It’s something, that’s all that it is. But regardless, if things go south, as some ransom situations do, you might need to actually hand over the money in order to save her.”
I let my head drop. That was not the advice I wanted to hear.
“You can’t be serious?”
“Drunk…” began Al.
I held a hand up to stop him. “Yeah, I know. Fine. Al and I will run to the bank after lunch.”
Francesca nodded. “Alright, then I’ll be in touch when I’ve gotten us a boat.”
26
After lunch, the first order of business had been visiting the Paradise Isle Royal Bank, located, oddly enough, in a gated estate on the western edge of the island. After I was able to provide proof of funds, they said they’d have the money available for me within two days’ time.
Thrilled to have that task at least knocked off my honey-do list, though disheartened at the prospect of having to part with the funds, Al and I met hours later at the address Francesca had given us.
I knocked on the door and then stuck my finger out to cover the little round peephole.
Al swatted my hand away from the door. “Knock it off. She shouldn’t open the door without knowing who it is. That’s dangerous.”
“She just texted to tell us we could come over,” I said, reapplying my thumb to the small glass circle. “She knows who it is.”
“What are ya? Six years old? Knock it off.” More hand swatting.
I stared down at Al. He was so short that from my vantage point I could easily play connect the liver spots on his bare scalp. “I’m just having a little fun. What’s the big deal?” Without turning my head from his, I reapplied my thumb to the door’s peephole, just as Francesca opened the door. My thumb hung in the air.
“Hey. What’s with the thumb?”
Al crooked his own thumb in my direction. “He’s an idiot.” Then he shuffled inside her apartment.
Francesca’s brows lifted as he walked past her. “Ah. I see. Come on in.” The woman was barefoot and towel-drying her wet hair. She wore a clingy army-green tank top tucked into a pair of cutoff blue jean shorts. It was the first time I’d seen her out of uniform and with her hair out of its ponytail. Seeing her that way almost made her seem like a different person entirely. Her wet hair on her shoulders, framing her face, made for an especially alluring sight. I had to fight like hell not to stare at her nipples, which strained against her bra and the damp fabric of her tank top. I couldn’t comprehend how she’d yet to find suitable male companionship looking like that.
I walked through the open doorway. “Thanks,” I said, keeping my eyes scanning the top of her head. “Nice place.”
“Eh, it’ll do. I don’t make a lot. This is the best I can afford on a lowly cop’s salary.”
“No, I like it,” I said. Even though the building had been in a crappy part of town and the steps up to the apartment were covered in shabby carpet and peeling paint layers of paint, her individual apartment looked nice. I had to guess that she’d done some work to it, as the grey walls looked like they had a fresh coat of paint on them, the doors, doorjambs, and all the wood moldings looked like they’d been refinished, and the light fixtures didn’t look like they’d been purchased in the dark ages. She had pictures covering almost every square inch of the place. I inhaled deeply; it smelled like vanilla and citrus.
“It smells really good in here.”
She grinned. “Thanks, I sort of have an affinity for melts.”
“Melts?”
“Yeah, you know, those little scented wax melts.” She pointed at an antique armoire in the corner. “That whole cabinet is filled with melts.”
I nodded. I was pretty sure my mother had a friend who sold that stuff back in the States. “Oh, yeah. What is it? Smells like vanilla and citrus.”
“Close, it’s… lemon vanilla cake.”
“I like it.”
She gestured towards the living room as she rubbed a towel against her hair with the other hand. “Make yourself at home. I just got out of the shower. I need to finish getting ready.”
Al stood before a wall of pictures. “This your family?”
She nodded before disappearing into her bathroom. “Yeah. Those are all my brothers and my nieces and nephews. That’s my mom in the middle.”
I stared over Al’s head at the wall of pictures. She had an enormous family. I didn’t even know what it would be like to have so many relatives. Both of my parents had siblings, but they lived far away and we didn’t see them very often, so I really hadn’t grown up with any cousins, and as I was siblingless, I hadn’t ever had nieces or nephews either.
“Wow, you have a ton of family members!” I shouted.
“Yeah, I know. They’re a lot of fun,” she hollered back. She appeared back in the living room with her wet hair now knotted in a bun on the top of her head. It pulled at the skin next to her eyes, sharpening her high cheekbones and giving her an even more ethnic look.
I sucked on my bottom lip. Wow. The woman was flawless.
“This one’s your mother?” asked Al, pointing at a picture vaguely in the center of the wall. It was a black-and-white snapshot of a wrinkled woman with a broad smile on her face. If she’d looked like Francesca at any point in her life, it was now hidden behind years and years of age lines.
“Yes, that’s my mother. That’s my favorite picture of her. She looks so… happy.”
“What’s her name?” I asked.
“Guadalupe. Everyone just calls her Lupe.”
“You said she lives on the island?” asked Al, turning to look at her.
“Yeah. She lives with my oldest brother, Solo, his wife, Marina, and their children.” She pointed at a group picture on the wall of a brooding, tall, broad-shouldered man with a wife who was short enough to fit under his armpit and to easily be confused with one of the children. There were a handful of kids, all of them dressed in similar colors of peach and aqua, like they’d just come from a family outing.
“Beautiful family,” said Al. “Very beautiful. Makes me miss my own.”
“I’m certainly lucky,” she agreed. “Alright, we need to get moving. Just let me get on some shoes and we’ll go.”
There was a knock at the door.
I turned towards Francesca. “You expecting someone?”
“Oh, that’s just Hugo,” she said casually, walking towards the door.
“Hugo?” I straightened and my voice deepened inadvertently. “I thought you said you were single.”
“I am.” She chuckled before opening the door to let the largest dog I’d ever seen come running into her apartment.
“Hey, buddy,” she cooed as he zipped past her to stand directly in front of me, barking wildly.
I looked down at the enormous dog that stood nearly chest-high to me. His face was close enough to mine that I could taste the fish that he’d eaten for lunch. “I take it this is Hugo?” I shouted over his barking.
“Yes, this is Hugo.” She took a hold of the leash he’d pulled out of the hands of the woman in the doorway and drug him over to her side. “Relax, Hugo, this is a friend. Relax.” She patted him gently.
I stared wide-eyed at the lanky dog. He was tan with a black face, pointy ears, and long jowls. “What kind of dog is he?”
“Great Dane,” said Al, shuffling over to Hugo’s side.
Immediately, Hugo relaxed, allowing Al to pet him and scratch him behind the ears. Taking a cue from Al, and wanting Hugo to not want to eat me, I tried to walk over and scratch his ears too. Immediately Hugo began barking wildly at me again.
I took a step back. “I don’t think he likes me.”
Francesca smiled. “Probably because you’re so big. Hugo’s kind of a gentle giant. He’s easily intimidated. I got him to be my guard dog, but I usually end up guarding him.”
I grimaced and pointed a finger at the small pony. “So you’re saying that he is intimidated by me?”
She nodded. “Yeah. Crazy, huh?”
“Yeah.”
She looked at the young woman standing in the doorway. She was blonde and tanned, wearing spandex shorts, sneakers, and only a sports bra for a shirt. Earbuds dangled around her neck. “This is Courtney. She does doggy daycare and watches Hugo while I’m at work.”
“Hey,” said Courtney, giving Al and me a little wave. She gestured towards the hallway. “I live next door to Frankie, so I usually walk Hugo home from daycare when I get off work.” She turned her attention to Francesca. “So… he didn’t eat all of his supper. Abby was at daycare today, so he played hard. You know how he feels about her. I have a feeling he’s going to sleep well for you tonight.”
Francesca ran a hand down along Hugo’s neck. “Hugo! Did you play with Abby today?”
At the mere mention of Abby’s name, Hugo’s tail went wild, nearly taking out Courtney, who stood behind him in the doorway.
Holding her hands out in front of herself, Courtney laughed while backing up towards the hallway. “Chill, kid. Chill. Geez!”
“Well, I’m glad he had a hard day, because I’m going out h
ere shortly, and he’s staying home alone. Thanks for bringing him home.”
Courtney’s eyes widened and she let her gaze linger on me for a noticeably long moment. “Yeah? Hot date?”
Francesca rolled her eyes and began closing the door on her neighbor. “Thank you, Courtney. Have a nice evening.”
Courtney’s fingers fluttered a goodbye at me and Al. “Bye, guys. It was nice to meet you.”
Al wiggled his fingers back. “Bye,” he sang in the same little tone.
With the door now shut, Francesca shook her head. “Sorry about Courtney.”
“No problem. Are you ready?” I eyed Hugo. He was still at Francesca’s side, but staring at me suspiciously.
“Almost, I just need to put some shoes on. I’ll be right back.” She walked away from Hugo and he literally froze in his spot, staring at me, his body stiff, his ears at full attention.
I held a friendly hand out to him, and he barked at me. My hand snapped back to my side.
“Hugo!” called out Francesca.
I let out a nervous laugh. “How about Al and I meet you downstairs?”
27
It was dark when we pulled up to the King’s Bay Marina in Francesca’s white 1986 Suzuki Samurai. Francesca had refused to let me drive the fun-looking little stick shift, and Al was too old to crawl in the back, so I’d had to fold my stork-like legs in half to fit into the small backseat. I rode with my knees up by my chin, so by the time we unloaded in the harbor parking lot, my body was stiff from the ride.
Piling out, we paused in the parking lot next to the vehicle. Francesca stuck her head into the backseat, looking for something, while I bent over, trying to rub some life back into my now numb legs. When I straightened, a flash of Francesca’s backside made my head inadvertently tip to the side.
Damn.
There was no denying, the woman had a killer ass.
Al caught my slack-jawed stare and elbowed me in the ribs, shooting me the stink eye.
“What!” I mouthed, feigning indignation.
He gave me a warning glare just as Francesca emerged from the backseat. I caught the scant outline of a handgun in the dark before it made its way into a holster under her shirt.
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