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Sexy Girls

Page 16

by Gary S. Griffin


  our florida adventure

  Walter Hines did contact Eve later that day. On Tuesday morning, June 8, Robert Grayson fired Cyndie from his agency. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

  The loss of Cyndie's job took us by surprise. Later, we realized we should have expected it to happen. At the time, Cyndie couldn't stop crying. She called me during the fifteen minutes she was given to vacate the premises. Edie and I were in the airport’s waiting area. Cyndie said she had her possessions and was heading to my Delaware home. No, she didn’t want us to cancel our Florida plans.

  It hurt to leave Cyndie after another trauma. It seemed too soon. Nevertheless, we did. We caught an earlier flight to Atlanta. We were following our hunch all the way. Clearly, it was a gamble to show up in Fort Lauderdale without any idea if this would work. But, we didn't have much else to pursue.

  ***

  In Atlanta, during my layover I dialed the phone number of the Sun-Sentinel, the Fort Lauderdale newspaper. A friendly operator answered on the second ring.

  “Can you connect me to Red Sable?”

  “One moment please.”

  There was a pause of a few seconds, and then the phone rang again. After four rings, I heard, “Hi, this is Red Sable, Fashion and Entertainment photographer with the Sun-Sentinel. Today is Tuesday, June 8, and I'm in town and working on location tonight. Please leave your name, number and a brief message and I'll get back to you very soon as I check my messages often. Thank you.”

  After the beep I said, “Hi Red. This is Stevie Garrett. I'm currently investigating the death of our mutual friend, Andi Grayson. I'm in Atlanta and flying with another friend of Andi’s to Fort Lauderdale in a few minutes. We'll arrive around five o'clock, today, Tuesday, June 8. I want to meet with you and discuss my investigation. Feel free to call me on my cellphone number.”

  I gave her the phone number and then said thank you and goodbye. I felt sure I wouldn’t hear from her.

  I briefed Edie on Red's message and Edie guessed Red would be shooting that night. Edie had done some Internet surfing on Monday and saw a fashion show scheduled for Tuesday night. It seemed possible. However, Edie couldn’t find Red’s home address or phone number, perhaps due to her recent move to Florida. We made our plan.

  In another half hour we were flying to Florida. At four-forty our plane touched down into America’s tropics. Warm, humid, eighty-degree air greeted us as we walked off the plane into the Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood Airport. It felt wonderful; it felt like the height of summer.

  Our reservations were at the Fort Lauderdale Beach Hotel. I rented a convertible green Mustang and we left the airport about fifteen minutes after we landed.

  “Stevie, since we’re going to a fashion show, I need to shop.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really, I need to find a dress and shoes.”

  “Can’t you wear something you packed?”

  “No, I need a flashy, sexy little thing to squeeze into, like the rest of the women who’ll be there.”

  “OK.”

  “Plus, I want to get there early and look around. I want to find Red.”

  Edie planned to scout out the joint, speak to Red first and get us in the show, with or without tickets.

  I asked, “How will you know her?”

  “I remember what she looks like.”

  “You do, how?”

  “I met her at Andi’s wedding.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I met her there too.”

  “Drop me at the shopping district here in town.”

  “OK.”

  We drove to Las Olas Boulevard. We cruised the street until Edie said, “Stop here! This shop will do. I’m sure it’ll have some cute things.”

  We were in front of a boutique called 603 Glam. It looked like the trendiest clothes store on the boulevard.

  Edie then said, “Drop my bag at the front desk. I’ll get it when I check in. I’ll take a taxi to the hotel.”

  “OK, Edie.”

  Then she leaned over and gave me a long kiss goodbye.

  After check-in I went up to my room and unpacked. Then, I called Cyndie and comforted her for a while. She was pissed off at Robert Grayson and hurt, too. After the call, I went down to the lobby and bought a local paper. I scanned the headlines and read a story about that evening's summer fashion show. I then asked the concierge for directions.

  The lady concierge explained. “Our hotel is about three miles north of the Lago Mar. The show begins at 8 p.m.”

  “Great, how do I get there?”

  The kind, immaculately-dressed, thirty-something lady provided precise directions.

  Then, she asked, “Do you need a ticket?”

  I acted coy, “Yes, I need two, but I hope to get them at the door.”

  Jennifer, the concierge responded, “You could be out of luck as the show is sold out. But, it just so happens that the Lago Mar provided some tickets to each hotel on the beach. I have three tickets left. Do you need only two?”

  “Yes, thank you so much.”

  The kind young lady added, “By the way, Mr. Garrett, do you have a tie, sport coat and slacks with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wear them. I’m sure you will need them to get in.”

  Edie called shortly after I was back in my room. She was leaving for the fashion show and would take another taxi.

  I asked, “Did you find something sexy?”

  “You’ll have to tell me. It sure is a short mini. And, these heels seem taller than four inches to me.”

  I could only imagine how hot she looked. I said goodbye and be careful.

  Edie said, “I will. I love you, Stevie.”

  It was now 6 p.m. If successful, Edie said she would leave a ticket for me with the resort's concierge. I'd follow Edie there later. If Red didn't appear at the fashion show, we would go to her newspaper's office tomorrow and hang out until she showed up or we learned where to find her.

  ***

  I killed time over the next ninety minutes. I ate a late lunch on the plane, so I wasn’t really ready for dinner. Instead, I took a quick dip in the outdoor pool. Then, I showered and got dressed for the show. I spent the last half-hour nursing a vodka tonic and munching on appetizers in the Paradise Grill & Bar, the hotel restaurant.

  At seven-thirty, I was in the parking garage putting down the convertible top of the new Mustang. I headed out on Atlantic Boulevard in my green machine. The sun had just set and the traffic was light on my ride south. The night was filled with the sights and sounds of this beach city. The ocean was on my left and I drove with the balmy air blowing through my short hair.

  The Lago Mar Resort was a tropical paradise. Set inside an exclusive neighborhood, this was clearly the top of the Fort Lauderdale beach community. Lit in blues and purples the three-storey white hotel sparkled on this warm June night. A line of expensive cars made their way up the drive to the bright mauve-colored palace in the palm trees. Directed to a distant parking lot I left the top down, figuring that in this place I wouldn't need to worry about vandals.

  I grabbed my coat and tightened my tie. The walk to the hotel gave me the chance to take in the scene. Attractive, well-dressed women of all ages surrounded me, most with middle-aged to older men. The women were of various shapes and sizes, but all were dressed well. The wonderful floral aromas (jasmine?) battled with the liberal amounts of perfume and cologne on the beautiful people of the Gold Coast.

  I walked into the open air lobby and the sights improved even more. I took in as many lovely ladies as I could. My favorite was a redhead standing by herself in a corner in a green chiffon dress. She looked like a Roman slave girl. She was a gorgeous creature with a large chest, long legs, middle-of-the-back tresses, gold sandals and a dress that showed her assets and let my mind start imagining going fun places with her.

  “I see you like the sights?”

  It was Edie, in full makeup and with her very dark brown hair beautifully brushed down on her shoulders.
Her fit, petite body was in a tight, white halter mini-dress, and she wore impossibly high heeled pumps.

  “What took you so long?” she asked, “The show's about to start.”

  Before I could answer, Edie spoke again. “Stevie, here's your ticket. We’re right down front.”

  I answered, “Thanks.”

  Edie said, “Oh, I almost forgot. Red Sable is here. We spoke and she seems really broken up about Andi. I asked and she answered that she has no idea who murdered Andi. Though, the way she said everything struck me odd - she was too scripted.”

  “Thanks.” I didn't know what else to say except, “You look great.”

  “Oh, you silly man.”

  Before I cold react, Edie kissed me on the lips. Then, she spun on her four-inch heels, tripped slightly, grabbed my hand and pulled me forward into the ballroom, the setting for the fashion show.

  I quickly acclimated myself to the fabulous Lago Mar Hotel as show time was fast approaching. The show was a preview of next year's summer fashions, including swimsuits.

  We entered as the lights dimmed and the music became louder. The tickets Edie acquired (I never found out how) were aisle seats in the tenth row; the first row at the end of the runway. This seat would provide incredible views up at, what I hoped were, stunning young models.

  The show began with a rush of loud techno music and some fog from dry ice. The lights came up on the stage and the runway.

  Edie pointed out Red Sable. She was stage-right in the roped-off photographer’s section. I recognized her healthy, natural features; shoulder-length vibrant orange-red hair, a clean makeup-free face, and bright aquamarine eyes. Her hair was parted off-center with more hair on the right side of her head. She wore khakis, navy-blue sneakers and a bright blue polo shirt. She kept reaching for equipment in her two bags. Red was here to work.

  In total, the show lasted over an hour and featured twenty different models. The models were young, thin and pretty. They wore bright, short, cotton sundresses. Next, they paraded in crinkly skirts of lightweight material with citrus-colored tank tops. They saved the swimsuits parade for last.

  All the swimsuits were small, revealing and totally impractical for anything except to show off nearly naked bodies. They were very pretty, very small string-bikinis in solid pastel shades. The suits had tiny triangle tops and g-string bottoms, highlighting long lean limbs, thin tummies, and appealing breasts. No woman would wear these suits to swim and, even pool side, they would be very risqué.

  The other thing that kept creeping in my mind was that these models were very different from Cyndie and Edie. Besides being very young, these girls were pounds lighter. These barely legal girls all pretended to have an attitude that I didn't find appealing.

  During the whole shoot Red was very busy. I think she snapped 400 photos using her two digital cameras.

  When the show ended, Edie whispered in my ear, “Speak to Red now. I'll return to the hotel. Call me later.”

  The show ended and the audience began to clear. I stayed seated and waited as Red methodically packed her cameras and other equipment in her bags.

  Just before she finished, I stood and approached her. “Hello Red, it’s been a long time.”

  I stood on the other side of the photographer’s section rope. Red was in a kneeling position five feet in front of me. Her head snapped up and it took five seconds for her to recognize me, but then she recovered.

  “Stevie Garrett! God, you never change.”

  “Neither do you.”

  I was surprised that she came right up and hugged me. She replied, “You look great as usual. You know you're the only man I'd say that to.”

  “Thank you, but if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were hitting from the other side.”

  Red answered, “No such luck, buddy. What are you doing in Fort Lauderdale?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s about Andi Grayson. Have you heard she's dead?”

  She coolly answered, “Yes, I have.”

  I needed to break the ice quick. I blurted out, “Red, have you had dinner, I’m starving?”

  Red warmed slightly, “Matter of fact, I haven’t eaten.”

  “Great, where would you like to go?”

  “What do you want to eat?”

  “Seafood,” I answered.

  “Are you buying?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Red said, “In that case, we might as well stay right here as the food is great.”

  So, Red led me to the hotel restaurant.

  We were seated at 9:15 in the lobby restaurant. After we ordered, I tried to break the ice. It wasn't easy. I asked her at one point how many photos would be published. She said five if she was lucky; one or two in her newspaper and the rest in fashion mags. We then talked about Red’s new job and her new home and how things were going.

  All the while, I looked for the opportunity to get to the real story.

  There was no point in delaying this too much. Red was tired. She said she had a new girl in her life. She loved the weather and the beach. She was moving into a condo at the end of the month. Then, ten minutes after we were seated, she surprised me by saying, “Stevie, why don't you get to heart of the matter as I'm tired and I'm leaving as soon as I finish eating. I still need to review the photos at the office before I can go home.”

  I plunged ahead. “Cyndie Myst hired me to investigate Andi Grayson's murder.”

  She didn’t miss a beat. “So, why are you here? Do you think I'm involved?”

  “I don't know, but may be you know something that will help.”

  “I doubt it.”

  I replied. “Let me explain.”

  I gave her a short version of the now familiar story. First, I explained that Cyn hired me to find Andi and find out why Andi was blackmailed. Then, Andi was killed. So, it became a murder investigation. I also described my trip to Colorado and what I discovered there. I also mentioned our false start with Fred Conarto. I told Red I knew about the Sexy Girls. Finally, I admitted we didn't have much to go on.

  I finished my story. Red frowned, breathed deep, and then said, “Stevie, I don't have much to add to your story.”

  I asked, “Why did you move to Florida?”

  Red answered, “I had an argument with Robert and needed a change.”

  “What was the argument about?”

  “Artistic stuff; I was getting stale. I'd been in Philly almost ten years. Plus, I lost respect for Robert too. Sure the guy made my career. But, what was revealed to me in those weeks around that Kimmel Center night blew my faith. First, he cheated on his wife in public during my last two location shoots. Next, I learned he cheated Andi out of their divorce settlement. I really don't know if he was involved in the blackmail. I still don’t, but I swear he was, some how, some way. I just can't prove it.”

  Red took a breath and continued, “I confronted Robert about my assignments and his lack of respect for my ideas. I lost my cool as his personal life upset me. Our argument escalated and he ended up firing me. Later he wanted me to come back. But I’d had enough. I found the newspaper job in about two weeks and have had two good months down there. I will never go back north.”

  I replied, “Red, you've confirmed a lot that I pieced together, but I’m still unclear about Robert’s role. You mentioned that he was cheating on Andi.”

  “Robert cheated before, during and after his marriage to Andi. Look, he's surrounded by good-looking, young girls in exotic locations, and he can play sugar daddy to them. He can make their careers, or at least get them off to a good start. That's why he always travelled separately from Andi.”

  “Who's he seeing now?”

  “He was sweet on a Dutch model, named Giselle Something.”

  I asked, “Is she a tall, thin brunette with a big chest?”

  “Yes, but that describes half the models in the world. The other half are small chested. Even all the blondes' fall into one of th
ose groups, as they all dye their hair.”

  “Is she staying with Robert?”

  “She could be, sometimes he had his girl-of-the-moment at his big estate, when Andi was out of town, which was at least once a month.”

  I then asked, “Red, who are the blackmailers and how did they know about Andi and Cyn's night at the Kimmel Center?”

  “Stevie, I don't know. I was out of town with Robert. But, others could've known. That freaking Andi could get Cyndie to do crazy stuff.”

  “You sound pissed about that.”

  “Yes, I got jealous of Andi for being so fortunate and so good-looking. Plus, Andi stole Cyndie from me. Stevie, did you see that video?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Red continued, “Then, you know what happened. That was real passion as well as sex. Cyndie and Andi started their affair several weeks before that night. They tried to keep it a secret, but Andi and Cyndie were so hot for each other that they were acting out in public. Look, anyone paying attention knew they were having sex.”

  I summed it up. “The night at the Kimmel Center was the perfect opportunity to trap Andi. Especially, if you had a motive, and Robert had one; the prenup agreement.”

  I was about to speak, when Red went on with her story, “Yes, I was pissed at Andi, but I wasn't about to help Robert. I hated him even more. I didn't know about the blackmail. I swear!”

  She almost screamed those last two words. I thought that Robert's motive might explain the blackmail, but I also needed to know about Andi’s murder. I blurted out, “Talk to me about Andi's visit to see you, here in Florida.”

  Red's eyes sharpened their focus on my face. For a second it appeared that she was going to deny knowing about Andi's visit. Instead, she asked, “How did you figure that out?”

  “First, Cyn knew. Second, I saw Florida entries on Andi's last credit card and phone bills.”

  She hesitated, “Oh… Andi was trying to figure out the blackmailing too, but she really didn't know that much. Andi broke my heart when she told me what happened to her after that night. I didn't realize how badly she got screwed by Robert. She apologized for stealing Cyndie and said they weren't dating any longer. Instead, Andi said she was glad she was getting divorced and hoped things would work out with a new man in her life.”

 

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