I narrowed my eyes and pulled the club out of his grasp. “Go back there and let me do this…by myself.”
He smiled and, lucky for him, stepped away before I did something I’d regret, like hit him over the head with my club. He must have seen the fire in my eyes, because he backed away pretty fast. Then he remembered that look and how it used to make him feel guilty…but not anymore. I shook my head and sighed, which only made his smile widen.
I got back into position to hit my ball and picked up a thought from Uncle Joey that sent my heart racing. He’d observed the sexual tension between Ramos and me, and it worried him. Had we had an affair in Orlando? Was that what was going on? He knew something had changed between us, but he didn’t think I’d do something like that. Not with a husband and kids, especially after I’d fought Kate so hard for Chris. Or that Ramos would either, but stranger things had happened. Wow, he could hardly believe it, but from the looks of things, it must be true.
I almost dropped my club again. I took a step away from my ball, and with both hands on my hips, sent him a killer glance. “No! Absolutely not! Now can I take my turn here?”
Uncle Joey’s eyes bulged. “Yes, yes, go ahead.” He glanced at the judge apologetically and whispered something about how I had a condition, but I was on medication so it was mostly under control.
Geez! I was ready to quit and we hadn’t even started. I huffed out a breath and turned back to my ball. This time I clamped my shields tight and took my swing. The gratifying sound of my club connecting with the ball relieved some of the tension gathering in my stomach, and I didn’t mind that the ball hadn’t gone far. At least I had made it off the first tee. I stepped away with relief and took my place beside Ramos to watch Parker take his turn.
Ramos nudged me and sent a worried frown, glancing at Uncle Joey. I let my shields drop to hear him wondering if Uncle Joey was thinking that there was something going on between us. Did he think we’d slept together or something? Was that why I had shouted at him? I nodded, and guilt flooded through him. He promised to be better while Uncle Joey was around. Why did he just think “better while Uncle Joey was around?” What about the rest of the time? I rolled my eyes.
I caught Uncle Joey’s gaze and realized he had been watching our exchange. In his mind he asked if Ramos had guessed what he’d been thinking earlier about an affair. I nodded again, and this time Ramos caught that. He frowned at me, and Uncle Joey caught that. Now Uncle Joey was frowning at me too.
I threw my hands in the air. “That does it! I’m putting up my shields until you guys change the subject.”
I glanced up and caught the judge staring at me. He’d finished his shot and had heard me talking nonsense. He was thinking I was a nut case if he’d ever seen one, and maybe he’d better make an excuse to leave. He could pretend to get an important phone call.
At my stricken expression, Uncle Joey turned to the judge and narrowed his gaze. He was thinking this was not going well and he needed to salvage it fast. He motioned the judge to his side, and walked away from me, telling the judge I was harmless and that playing this game was important to him. The doctors said I needed lots of exercise, and he hoped Parker wouldn’t mind too much. Besides, Ramos was there. What could happen?
Parker relaxed but kept his distance from me, thinking that maybe I heard voices in my head and that’s why I shouted out answers like that, which was kind of creepy. He thought I must have a schizophrenic disorder or something. Like Russell Crowe in that movie.
He glanced at me, and I smiled, surprised at how close to the truth he’d come. I guess hearing voices in my head could be classified as a disorder. Still, I didn’t like being regarded as a mental case. It kind of hurt my feelings.
Uncle Joey took his turn at the tee and made a pretty nice shot. During Ramos’ turn, Uncle Joey pulled me closer to Parker to talk. We talked about the theme parks in Orlando, which I knew lots about, until Parker was more relaxed around me.
After Ramos was done, we all climbed into the golf cart. Parker and Uncle Joey’s shots were decent, but Ramos was a natural, sending his ball nearly to the putting green. Go figure. Since my ball was the closest, we drove there first, and I quickly sent it off in the direction of the hole, close to where Uncle Joey and Parker had made their first shots.
By the time we started the second hole, I realized that what they did in two strokes took me five, and I could see I was holding them up. So I told Uncle Joey that if I didn’t get onto the putting green after five, I would just pick up my ball. He said that was a great idea, and Parker agreed with a quick nod. Ramos didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He’d closed his mind up tight, and I couldn’t hear a thing, which was probably for the best.
After the fourth hole, I quit playing all together. Putting up my shields so I could concentrate on the game was counter-productive to what I needed to do, and that was listening to the judge. Since I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him much, I wasn’t sure how to make it happen. But I got my chance when he made a bad hit off the tee, sending his ball into some dense undergrowth.
I offered to take him over there in the golf cart and he agreed. On the way, I told him thanks for putting up with me and that I was enjoying my time with my uncle. “He’s a good guy, but he has quirks, like most people,” I began. “How long have you known each other?”
“Oh, about a year I guess.” He could hardly believe it had been that long since Manetto had told him about his son’s gambling debts. If it hadn’t been for Manetto’s intervention, his son would be dead by now. As it was, he owed Manetto more than his son’s life. Manetto had paid a small fortune to bail out his son, and it would take him the rest of his life to repay the debt. If Manetto ever decided it wasn’t worth it, his son’s life was over. And his probably was too.
“That’s nice,” I said. “Do you work for my uncle?”
“No, we’re just friends.”
“You must be one of the friends he’s helped,” I said, playing dumb about him being a judge. “He helps a lot of people. What I don’t understand is why some of them don’t seem to appreciate it.”
“What?” he asked, alarmed.
“Yeah, he’s had some threats lately. There was even someone who spied on him a while ago. Can you believe that?”
“No,” he said. “I had nothing to do with it.” His face had gone a little ashen, and he glanced at me with trepidation. Did Manetto put me up to talking to him like this? Did Manetto suspect he would do something like that? He’d be nuts to even consider it. “I think the ball is right over there somewhere.” Desperate to get away from me, he tried to leap out of the moving cart. Surprised, I pushed a little too hard on the brake and the cart jerked to a stop, throwing him off balance. He tumbled out and landed on his face.
“Mr. Parker are you all right?” I jumped out of the cart and ran around to the other side. He rolled over and sat up, holding his arm. Blood was oozing from a deep gash on his forearm where he’d cut it on a rock. “Oh no, you’re bleeding! Let me help you up and I’ll take you back to the club house.”
“I’m fine,” he said, holding his arm out to stop me. “I can get up myself.”
While he struggled to his feet, I found the towel in my golf bag and took it to him. “Here, put this on it and get in. It looks like it might need stitches.”
He didn’t argue and took the towel. Seeing all that blood had convinced him he needed to get it checked. I helped him sit down and quickly slid behind the wheel. Catching sight of the club house in the distance, I decided to take a detour through the brush to the road. From there it was a lot faster than driving along the fairway.
I started off and almost made it to the road when the cart quit working. It just stopped for no reason.
“What the hell?” Parker glanced up from his arm. All of his attention had been on wrapping it up in the towel. “Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d take a shortcut to the club house,” I said, surprised a
t how upset he was.
“Well shit,” he exclaimed. “Don’t you know the carts have a built in GPS and if you take them off the course, they quit working?”
“Um…I guess not. Sorry. How do we get it to start then?”
“You have to push it back onto the course.” He couldn’t believe I was such an idiot.
“Okay, I can do that.” I jumped out of the cart and started pushing for all I was worth. It didn’t budge. I tried again, but nothing happened. Parker just sat there and looked at me. He couldn’t believe what an idiot I was.
I wanted to tell him he’d already thought that. Seriously, couldn’t he think of a different word? Or was being an idiot the best he could come up with? “Maybe if you got out of the cart, it would be easier to push.” I snapped.
He hastily got out and was thinking it would probably be safer if he got away from me and just walked to the clubhouse. I helplessly watched him walk away, and then pushed against the cart with all I had. I even groaned a little. It still didn’t budge. A moment later I heard voices through the brush and Ramos emerged.
“Hey Babe,” he grinned. “Trying to run off with the judge?”
I shrugged, but smiled back, relieved to see him. “Something like that.”
“Let me give you a hand with that.” He came around to where I stood and started pushing. The cart moved easily, and I wasn’t even helping much. “What happened to him?” he asked. “Was that blood I saw?” He knew I didn’t like the sight of blood, and thought maybe that’s why I’d tried to make my escape.
“I was trying to take him to the clubhouse. But how was I supposed to know the cart would stop?”
“Oh,” he smiled. “Yeah, I guess you didn’t know. So how did he get hurt?”
“He fell out of the cart and gashed his arm on a rock or something. But it wasn’t my fault. He was trying to get away and jumped out while we were still moving. When I pushed on the brake, he fell out.”
“Why was he trying to get away? Did you say something that spooked him?” By now Ramos had the cart back onto the fairway and it started right up.
“I just told him that someone was spying on Uncle Joey. I didn’t say it was him or anything, but it still freaked him out. Anyway, at least we know he’s not the judge who did it.”
“Yeah, that’s good,” Ramos said. “So that’s one down, and how many more?”
“Two. Uncle Joey wants me to play poker with one, and then go to church with the other.”
Ramos was surprised at the church part. “Well, the poker should be easy for you, and I know the judge he’s thinking of.” He was thinking that it couldn’t be him, but it was still worth checking out. “Get in. Manetto and Parker are just down there, we can pick them up on our way back.”
He pulled the cart onto a small cart lane I didn’t know about, and we caught up to them. Parker didn’t have any qualms about getting in with Ramos driving. For having a bad gash, he was pretty chipper about stopping early and getting away from us, but it was mostly me he was thinking about. I didn’t think I could scare a judge, but I guess with Uncle Joey involved, anything’s possible.
After Parker left, Uncle Joey suggested we get some breakfast. Since I was actually hungry, that was a no-brainer for me. Plus I’d never eaten there before and wanted to see what it was like. The dining room was beautiful, done in dark wood and floor-to-ceiling windows. The heavy wooden table and plush chairs we sat in were comfortable, and the view out the windows was amazing.
We placed our orders, and Uncle Joey turned to me. “So it’s not Parker?”
“No. I don’t think you have to worry about him. He’s terrified of you.”
He chuckled. “Maybe, but I think he was more scared of you today than he was of me. What happened to his arm? He said you stopped suddenly and made him fall out.”
“That’s exactly what happened, but he was trying to jump out in the first place, that’s why I stopped. Then he thought I was an idiot when the cart quit working, but how was I supposed to know that would happen?”
“Oh, now it makes sense,” Uncle Joey said, thinking that bringing me along always brought out the unexpected, but it certainly made things more interesting. “Well, that leaves us with the next judge. Thursday night is our usual poker night, but I can see if we can do it tonight.” Today was Tuesday, but he didn’t think moving it up would be a problem. As long as the judge was there, it didn’t matter who else showed up. “I don’t need to tell you that we need to move on this quickly.”
“I know. That should work,” I said.
“Good. We usually start at nine and go until midnight, but you can quit whenever you like, unless you’re winning.” He was actually looking forward to playing with me.
“You’re playing?” I asked. He nodded and I continued. “Who else?” I glanced at Ramos.
“Oh no, not me,” Ramos answered. “I know better than that.”
“Just a few close friends,” Uncle Joey said. “Not anyone you have to worry about. And you don’t even have to worry about winning this time.”
I smiled. “That’s a relief.”
“We play at The Comet Club. Get there a little early, say eight forty-five. Just tell them who you are at the door, and the attendant will bring you to our room.”
“Okay. But what if Chris wants to come? Should I bring him?” A loud no came from both their minds, and I raised my brow. “Then what am I going to tell him? I don’t think he’ll like me going there alone. Have you heard about that place? I haven’t ever been there, but I’ve heard it’s a pretty wild crowd. I think it was even under investigation for drugs or something not too long ago. Are you sure that’s where you want to go?”
Ramos was thinking I should stop talking, and Uncle Joey pursed his lips into a hard frown. He was a little offended that I doubted I’d be safe at his club. Even if he didn’t run the place, he still owned it, and he didn’t like that I thought it was bad. There were all sorts of celebrities and prominent people who liked it.
“Oh, sorry,” I grimaced. “I didn’t know it was your place. I’m sure it will be fine then. I must have heard wrong.” I offered an apologetic smile and shrugged. “So the investigation was probably more like harassment, right?”
“Don’t worry, Shelby,” Uncle Joey said. “It’s all taken care of.”
“Good. Okay, I’ll try to get there without Chris.”
“I’ll pick you up and bring you home,” Uncle Joey said. “Chris shouldn’t have a problem with that, but if he does, I’d be happy to talk to him and explain the situation.” He was thinking that if Chris was going to be a problem, maybe it was time to have a much needed conversation with him to let him know how things stood.
“Um…okay about the ride, but I’m sure talking to Chris won’t be necessary. He’ll be fine.” Yikes! Uncle Joey’s idea of a conversation involved more than a nice little chat. In fact there was nothing nice about it. Knowing how Chris felt, he’d probably just make it worse, so there was no way I ever wanted that to happen. I’d have to handle Chris myself, even if it meant not being absolutely honest with him.
“What time should I be ready?” I asked.
“The car will be there at eight-thirty,” he answered.
“Okay. I’ll be waiting.” Wanting to take his mind off roughing up my husband I asked, “So, have you found out anything else?”
“No.” Uncle Joey felt bad about that. He glanced at Ramos who quickly explained that so far they didn’t have much to go on, but they hadn’t heard from all their sources yet.
“Don’t worry,” Ramos said. “I’m sure something will turn up. I just wish I could get my hands on Killpack’s files. It would help to know who his clients were, and if any of them wanted him dead.”
“Yeah, the police have them locked up tight,” I said. “They won’t even let me help.”
“I should think not,” Uncle Joey said, narrowing his eyes at me. He was peeved that I helped the police at all. “I’ll see if I can find out anything
from my source. What about you, Shelby? Have you found anything useful?”
“Well, actually, I have.” I wasn’t sure I should tell them about Billie. They’d probably think I was nuts to work with a reporter. On the other hand, if them knowing what I knew could help me, I should probably tell them everything.
“I know this reporter, and she’s given me some interesting information. She’s been working on a case that’s similar to mine, and I thought we could check it out together.”
“That’s a bad idea,” Uncle Joey said. “You can’t trust reporters. They’ll print anything they want whether it’s true or not.”
“But she’s different,” I said. “And with this case she’s really trying to uncover the truth, not just say what everyone wants to hear, or spin it to benefit someone. She’s thinking of a Pulitzer Prize.”
“What case is that?” Uncle Joey asked.
“There’s this guy, Jim Porter, who’s scheduled for execution next week, but he claims he was framed. Just like me. He’s supposed to have killed his girlfriend, but Billie, that’s the reporter, believes he was set up…and the circumstances are similar to mine.”
I held up my fingers as I explained, and counted them off. “One, they found his gun in the bathroom. Two, it’s stuffed in the garbage can, and three, it’s in a zip-lock bag with gloves and a rag. It’s exactly the same as how my gun was found. So that’s the lead I’m following right now. In fact, I’m going to the prison today to talk to him. I’ll know for sure if he did it. Good thinking, huh?”
“Yes,” Ramos answered. Uncle Joey was less enthusiastic and only grunted.
“So, all I have to do is find the connection between Killpack’s murder, and the girlfriend’s murder.”
“Maybe Killpack was looking into it and found out who the real killer is,” Ramos mused. “That could mean that if you looked into it, you could be in danger.” He was thinking that’s why he needed access to Killpack’s files.
Trapped By Revenge: A Shelby Nichols Adventure Page 8
