“These are all our contacts on the project,” Vincent said. He reached across and handed the notebook to Britney’s father. “I mean the full list.”
“Can I move now?” Britney asked, looking at the two men.
“Absolutely not,” Joe said. “You have to stay put for a little bit longer.”
Maggie became more confused. Britney had moved to Banyan Tree Country Club to secure an investment. Did she have more information on Marco than she had let on?
“Marco’s dead,” Britney said. “You really don’t need me there anymore.”
“We still need your eyes and ears until this whole thing is over,” Vincent replied.
“I feel like I live at an old folk’s home,” Britney said. After a moment she looked at Maggie. “Not you, of course.”
“Of course,” Maggie said. She had reached the bottom of her glass and felt a little light headed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Joe told his daughter.
Britney replied, “Dad, I’m serious. Just yesterday I was waiting for the valet to bring my car when an older Cadillac pulls up and an old lady gets out the passenger side. The valet was confused because he had just put her in the car a few minutes before. The valet asks if there’s a problem. She says yes. The woman tells the valet that she got into the car with the wrong husband. When they reached the driveway she looks over at the guy and says, ‘Hey, this isn’t my house,’ so the guy looks over at her and says, ‘Hey, you’re not my wife.’ ” The two men started laughing, but Britney shook her head. “You can’t make this shit up. I’m twenty-nine years old, I should be living at the beach instead of in senior living.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Joe said. “It’s not only seniors that live there. You got a good life, kid, enjoy it.”
“What about the project?” she said. “My name is in that book.”
Britney pointed to the notebook, which was still in her father’s hand.
“Don’t worry,” her father said, waving her concerns away, “we’ll take care of it.”
“Has anyone talked to Brandon?” Britney asked. “Did he rat?”
“That’s the rumor, but nothing for sure,” Joe said.
“Since the government canceled all the E-B-5 visas issued as part of the project, there are some pretty angry investors,” Vincent said.
“Can they track any of the contractors that were already paid?” Britney asked.
“I don’t think there are any electronic records of the second set of books. This could be it.” Joe held up the notebook. “Everything in our offices has been shredded.”
“Some of those expenditures were legit,” Britney noted.
“Yeah, tell that to some Brazilian who invested a couple mil and got nothing for it,” Joe said. “I don’t think they’ll care: legit or not, they’re going to want their money back.”
“We’re not worried about the cops,” Vincent said.
Britney frowned and shook her head. “Shit,” she said. She turned to her dad. “Any bites on the property?”
“We got an offer from a British investment firm last week: forty-five million.”
Britney’s eyes brightened. “That’s good, right?”
“Good for me,” Joe said, smiling.
“Hopefully no one puts two and two together,” Britney said.
“Hey, the government handed me this listing. Boca is a small town, so coincidences are just that. Coincidences. No reason we can’t make a buck off a legit real estate sale.”
“It also helps when you got friends in the government.” Vinnie laughed.
“Well, don’t forget me when payday comes,” Britney said. She stood, a little wobbly from the whiskey.
“You’re my baby girl, daddy would never forget you.”
Vincent nodded at Britney. “Uncle Vinny’s got your back, kid.”
Britney smiled then leaned over to Uncle Vinny, kissing him on both cheeks. She repeated the ritual with her father.
“Maggie,” Vinny said. He turned to Maggie and looked her squarely in the eyes. “You realize this is just business, right?”
Maggie again felt her pulse quicken. She put all her effort into remaining level headed. “Honestly, I have no idea what you guys are talking about—and I don’t want to know.”
Vinny eyed Maggie for a moment then turned to Britney. “By the way,” he said, “your friend Alex has some connections to some mutual investors in Brazil.”
Britney stared at him. “What kind of connections?”
“There’s a company called Avioa de Primo’s, it’s a Brazilian aircraft company.”
“That doesn’t seem odd…Alex’s company sells aircraft parts all over the world.”
Her father nodded. “Maybe it’s just coincidence.”
Britney seemed to believe her father was satisfied with that explanation, but Maggie wondered if Joe hadn’t dismissed his concerns a little too casually. She didn’t have time to consider the matter for much longer though: Britney held her hand out to help Maggie up. Maggie’s legs stuck to the leather couch as she stood up, causing her to experience a peeling sensation.
“Well, you guys be good, if that’s even possible,” Britney said over her shoulder. She walked out the door, feeling the electricity building in the air.
“What the heck?” Maggie asked Britney as they climbed into the car.
“Sorry, I should have given you a heads up.”
“What’s an E-B-5 thing? What was in that notebook? How are you involved?” Maggie fired off each question without giving Britney time to answer.
“My ex, Brandon, was involved with the building project, which had been registered as a government project—meaning it allows foreign investors to get a shortcut to citizenship here in the states. If they invest enough money in a project that creates ten jobs, they get five green cards…and of course they’re investors, so they also get a share of the profits. The problem is, the building managers took the money from the investors—but instead of spending it all on the project, they bought expensive cars, houses, jewelry, you name it. All very illegal.”
“And you were involved?” Maggie asked.
“Well,” Britney said, “sort of, but not really.”
“That makes perfect sense.” Maggie rolled her eyes.
“I was hired to do the lobby design, and I got a pretty big advance. I had no idea what was going on until Marco told me that one of his investors was suspicious. He said he had a list of all the contractors who were paid and didn’t do anything.”
“Why didn’t you just give the money back?” Maggie asked.
“I would have if I had it, but Brandon spent the money. I never really had it, but if I’m exposed, I’ll lose my license and, worse, my reputation. Basically everything I’ve built up. I won’t recover.”
“Was Marco extorting you?”
“Yes.” Britney nodded. “I gave him ten grand, but I was sure he was going to ask for more. That’s when I had to go to my dad. That’s the real reason I live in Banyan Tree. My father wanted me to stay close.”
“Wasn’t Marco suspicious when you moved in?”
“Not at all, he’s the one who told me what a great deal it was to live there. He said I would enjoy the country club lifestyle. He actually thought I took his advice by moving in there. Keep your enemies close, you know,” Britney said, smiling.
“Wow, Britney.” Maggie shook her head incredulously. “Did you tell the detective any of this?”
“I told him to talk to my lawyer,” Britney said.
Chapter 16
Peach Schnapps
The next morning Maggie arrived fifteen minutes late for her hair appointment. She was so tired from traveling across country twice in a week her brain still hadn’t synchronized with the east coast time zone. She considered canceling, until she looked in the mirror and saw the wide grey path along the top of her scalp. She had already put off the appointment for two weeks and had reached the point where she would have to wear a hat if she w
anted to go out in public.
The chemical smell of a keratin treatment almost knocked her over as soon as she walked through the door. It was like the old days when she used to perm her hair. The smell of the solution applied to the tightly wound rods. The perm solution lingered for days, until you could finally wash your hair. Now keratin was an expensive chemical treatment you could use to straighten your hair. Maggie wondered why women—and even men—went to such drastic lengths to change their natural look. But even if it was illogical there was no way she was going to let her hair turn grey.
“You look like you’ve been run over by a truck.”
Tanya appeared just before Maggie sat in the waiting area.
“Nice to see you too,” Maggie said, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”
“Come with me.”
Tanya pulled Maggie down the short hall then through a door to her private station.
“Sit here and I’ll get you something to drink.”
She helped Maggie into the black, oversized smock then disappeared around the corner.
Maggie was relieved. The room took her out of the salon and set her down in a mini-oasis. Plants and waterfalls surrounded the room. Spanish guitar music played softly on small speakers. Maggie melted into the chair, almost forgetting where she was. Only when she opened her eyes and found herself staring straight into a giant mirror framed in bright lights, did she get the full effect of what Tanya saw.
She was a mess. Her hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and she hadn’t put on makeup: the dark circles under her red eyes looked as if she had been in a fight. The only positive was the absence of wrinkles. Maggie had had some work done on her eyes, but unlike many of her friends, she hadn’t had to go down the Botox road quite yet.
Tanya came back and handed Maggie a champagne glass.
“Oh Lord,” Maggie said, wishing for coffee instead.
“Drink it,” Tanya told her, moving behind Maggie. “It’s my special pick-me-up.” She removed the hair band from Maggie’s head then began combing through Maggie’s tangled mess.
Maggie took a sip. “Oh my,” she exclaimed, “this is good.”
“It’s champagne with the new orange Red Bull and a floater of Peach Schnapps.”
“It is amazing,” Maggie said.
“A couple of those, you’ll be brand new.”
Tanya began working on Maggie’s hair, expertly using a narrow paintbrush to apply the color to one section before moving on to the next section. Maggie’s phone buzzed. She withdrew it from under her smock.
Britney: Lunch?
Maggie: I’m so tired.
Britney: Suck it up. Capital Grill?
Maggie: Seriously…Tired
Britney: Capital Grill?
Maggie: Fine. What time?
Britney: 1
Maggie: K
“Ugh,” Maggie said aloud. “Britney wants to do lunch.”
“I love that girl,” Tanya said. “We did a keratin treatment on her yesterday. It turned out amazing.”
“Britney would look amazing if she was bald.”
“Probably true.”
“She wants to meet for lunch…but look at me?”
Tanya smiled. “Don’t worry, we’ll fix you up.”
Maggie’s phone buzzed again. She looked down and saw a text from Mike.
Mike: Hope you got home safe. Let me know when you want to try the gun range.
Maggie couldn’t help herself: she smiled but did not text back as Tanya moved her to the dryer. She sat for twenty minutes, giving her plenty of time to obsess over whether Mike was truly interested, looking for more information, or was just trying to be nice. She was more than grateful when Tanya handed her another glass of the magic juice. She was already feeling better.
When Maggie walked out of the Salon two hours later, she was indeed a new woman. Tanya had even applied some makeup, so she didn’t even have to go home before she met Britney.
She had not quite driven one block when the August rains hit like a bucket of tacks, making it hard for Maggie to see two feet in front of her. She watched the thick black clouds chase her all the way to the restaurant, along with flashes of lightning with the rain. She pulled under the cover of the valet station, where she quickly released her keys to the valet and ran for the door. She had just reached the entrance when she saw Britney’s SUV squeal into the parking lot, barely missing one curb. Then Britney bounced the vehicle over the other curb until she was safely parked—at an acute angle—under the valet cover. Thankfully, Maggie’s car had already been moved. The young man dressed in black dress pants and a matching black vest opened Britney’s door. She stumbled out happily, and the young man smiled wide as he walked her to the door where Maggie was waiting. The girls hugged briefly.
“I missed your face,” Britney said.
“I just saw you yesterday,” Maggie replied.
“Well, it was a long night.” Britney smiled.
Maggie pulled the door open. She was hit with a rush of cool air. It was almost too cold; the warm wet air outside clung to her skin. She motioned Britney to go in.
Maggie followed Britney to the bar. They took a seat dead center, leaving an odd number of chairs at each side. Maggie always noticed these things; she had encouraged Britney several times to move over one seat, but now she kept silent. The only result would be an eye roll.
They were the only patrons at the bar, and the bartender was standing in front of them before they had a chance to settle more comfortably in their seats. He placed a bar napkin in front of each of them.
“Ladies,” the handsome young man greeted them.
“Hi, Tyyyyyler!” Britney said, smiling sweetly.
“Heyyyy, Britney…you look amazing as usual.”
Britney offered her cheek, and the bartender kissed it.
“Ice water, please,” Britney said, “I need to hydrate.”
“Me too,” Maggie said. “And do you have any orange-flavored Red Bull?”
“Sorry, no,” Tyler said, flashing a perfectly white straight smile.
This guy should be a model, not a bartender, Maggie thought.
“Okay, I’ll just have a regular mimosa, but can you float it with Peach Schnapps?”
“Sure.”
“I guess I’ll have one of those too,” Britney said.
Maggie turned to her friend. “Tanya made them for me at the salon, except with orange Red Bull.”
Britney’s eyes widened. “Now that sounds yummy.”
“It was definitely better than coffee.”
Britney stared at Maggie. “Your hair looks nice.” She reached for a strand and flipped it.
“Thank you.” Maggie nodded. “She always does such a good job.”
“She really does,” Britney said.
“Not to change the subject,” Maggie said, pulling out her phone, “but you will not believe who has been texting me.”
“Who?”
“Mike.”
“Who is Mike?”
“The detective.”
“Oh hell no. Maggie, don’t go there.” Britney was shaking her head.
“Why not?” Maggie smiled. “He’s handsome and single.”
“Seriously, Maggie, never trust a cop. He’s probably married with three kids, beats his wife and kicks his dog.”
“But…”
Maggie was just about to tell Britney about the plane ride, but she stopped herself, remembering the meeting with Britney’s father.
“Well, I have a much better option for you,” Britney said.
“Okay?”
“Remember I told you about the guy I met, Jay?”
“Yeah.” Maggie didn’t really remember Britney telling her about Jay, but it would be easier for her to just agree.
“Well, he has a friend.”
Britney smiled. Tyler returned with the drinks, and Britney reached for her glass before Tyler could even put it down. Maggie picked up her glass and took a big long drink, emptying h
alf of it.
“I’m sure his friend is too young for me,” she said.
“You know I don’t date men my age. They’re both in their fifties but are in great shape.”
“I don’t know…” Maggie said.
“Here’s to double dates.” Britney held her glass up. “Cheers.”
Maggie picked up her glass and downed the remaining half. Then she signaled to Tyler, who saw the empty glass and started fixing Maggie another one. “I’m not sure I can do a blind date at this point.”
“Well, you better figure it out,” Britney said, pointing to the door, “here they are.”
“Oh shit.”
Maggie watched two men walk toward the bar. One was blond with a short military-regulation haircut; the other was a dark-skinned man whose head was sheered almost bald. They were both handsome. Instantly, Maggie was glad she had not missed her hair appointment.
“Hey, Tyler,” Britney said, “we’re going to move over to that high-top.” She pointed to the table she had in mind.
“I’ll bring your drinks.” Tyler was already coming from around the bar.
Britney and Maggie smiled as they met the guys at the table and sat across from each other. The blond with the military haircut leaned over and kissed Britney on the cheek. Maggie assumed this was Jay.
“I’m going to kill you,” Maggie mouthed silently across the table to Britney.
“Chill out,” Britney mouthed back with a huge smile.
“Have you ladies been waiting long?” Jay asked.
Britney smiled. “Not at all,” she said.
Tyler set the drinks in front of the girls before turning to the guys. “What can I get you fellas?”
Jay pointed to the girls’ drinks. “Whatever they’re having.”
“Me too,” the other guy said, smiling at Maggie.
“So, this is Maggie,” Britney said after Tyler had headed back to the bar. “She’s my best friend.”
“Hi, Maggie, I’m Jay”—he held out his hand—“and this is my best friend, Silas.”
Behind The Gates (A Maggie McFarlin Mystery Book 1) Page 14
