I raised my head to find myself gazing into the warmest brown eyes I've ever seen, watching a sweet smile play on perfect lips. He held out his hand to me and I took it.
"I heard what happened," he said. "Grace called me. I'm here to take you home and administer some emergency TLC."
"Kip," I said, "I love you."
"And I love you, babe."
***
"I didn't know you could cook," I said from my perch on the recliner. I took a sip of pinot grigio and reclined all the way back.
"Don't get too excited," Kip said, bustling around in my kitchen. "I'm only making an omelet. But we could call it a 'frittata' if that sounds more gourmet to you."
"Call it what you will, it smells divine."
"So, do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
"Not so much."
"Maybe it will help. Okay, I'll start the ball rolling," Kip brought silverware and plates from the kitchen and set the table. "What if it's a mistake? It's possible, right?"
I groaned. "Are we really doing this? I was just starting to relax."
"You're the boss," Kip said, "But maybe you should cut the guy some slack. He's had a life that you can't even begin to imagine."
I righted my recliner and sat up straight. "And that means he's allowed to ruin other people's lives? Like poor Ana Maria?"
"Maybe he forgot he's married," Kip said with a grin.
I rolled my eyes. "Sure, that's it, he forgot. How about you? Did you get married and forget?"
"We'll never know, will we?" he teased.
"Why not?"
"Because I forgot about it!" Kip laughed out loud. Then he rang a little bell he had found on my bookshelf. "Dinner is served, Madame."
I walked over to him carrying a sofa pillow and I swatted him with it.
"That's for forgetting that you're married," I said, giggling.
He picked up the pillow and swatted me back.
"That's for not reminding me," he said.
As we ate our delicious dinner, he said, "You know, I read somewhere that holding a grudge is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die."
"So, what are you saying? That I should pretend everything's okay? I can't do it, Kip."
"No, that's not what I meant. I think you should talk to him, clear the air, or you'll be miserable. And do it soon. That's my advice."
I leaned over and kissed him. "Thanks, Dr. Phil. You're probably right. I should talk to him about it. I'm not sure what I'll say…"
"How about saying--hey, remember that time you got married?"
That cracked me up. It felt good to laugh after all the tension.
"You're a nut! Thanks for the wonderful dinner and the pep talk."
"No charge, it's on the house," he said.
We cleared the table and I started on the dishes. Kip went out to his car to get the presentation he was working on for Friday's commission meeting. He brought in my mail when he came back.
"Kip, did anyone try to contact you today about your decision?"
"Only a dozen calls from Dilly Williams, but I didn't return any of them."
I shook my head admiringly. "You're something else!"
Kip set his laptop on my kitchen table, then picked up one of the envelopes he'd brought in.
"This looks official," he said. "It's from the Bureau of Vital Statistics."
"That's my birth certificate." I said, loading the dishwasher. "Would you mind opening it and reading it to me?'
"Sure. Wow! Will you look at that?"
"What?" I said.
"You were a big baby! Eight pounds!" He started laughing.
"You're a liar! My weight's not on there. Is it?"
He shook his head and smiled.
"Well then, would you mind telling me what it says under 'father'?" I asked.
"It says, 'Guillermo Franco'. What did you expect it to say?"
"I wasn't sure. You know what that means, don't you?"
"What's that?" Kip answered.
I took a deep breath. "It means that whoever he is and whatever he's done, I'm stuck with him."
Kip came over and gave me a hug. "Looks that way to me, too."
Chapter 35
I awoke Thursday morning with a sense of dread that I couldn't put my finger on. After all, I was cozily ensconced in bed with my sleepy boyfriend on one side and my overweight cat on the other; I should've been happy. Then I remembered--my dad was a bigamist and I planned to call him out for it. I pulled the covers over my head hoping to spend a few more minutes in denial, but no luck. I decided to start the coffee instead.
I let Kip sleep in because he'd stayed up well past one o'clock working on his presentation. I still didn't get how he planned to save his job, but soon all would be revealed, or at least that's what he kept telling me. I was about to throw some breakfast together when I heard Kip grumbling from the bedroom.
"Why didn't you wake me up, Jamie? Now, I'm going to be late."
"Sorry! You looked tired."
The sound of the bathroom door slamming was his response. Five minutes later, he rushed into the kitchen, grabbed his laptop, gave me a peck on the cheek and ran out the door.
"Bye to you, too," I said to myself.
As much as I tended to procrastinate when it came to my work, I knew I couldn't do the same with my dad, not if I ever wanted any peace of mind. Kip was right--it wasn't healthy to bottle up my anger. I was trying to decide whether to call my dad by phone or by Skype. On the one hand, I could hide my feelings better on the phone; on the other hand, so could he, and I wanted to see his face. After all the years I'd spent as an attorney, I could read faces pretty well, even those micro expressions that most people missed. In other words, I knew a liar when I saw one.
Although it was very early, Nicaragua-time, I didn't care. It was now or never. My father answered the Skype call after one ring. He looked the same as ever, curly white hair and bushy eyebrows framing a weathered, but pleasant face.
"Hola mi hija, is everything okay?"
I hadn't thought about what I was going to say.
"Hi Dad, sorry to call so early, but…"
"What's wrong? Are you ill? Is it Ana Maria?"
The concern on his face was genuine; I didn't need special skills to see that.
"We're both fine, I didn't mean to worry you, but I found out why your visa was denied and I wanted to talk to you about it."
"Of course, please, I want to know what happened," he said.
"I'm not sure how to say this…"
"You can tell me anything, Jamie. I hope you know that."
I realized I was holding my breath and let it go. "Alright, here's the problem. Your visa was denied because your marriage to Ana Maria isn't legitimate, you're not really married."
I studied his face for a reaction, but saw only surprise and anger registered there, no guilt or deception.
"What do you mean by that?" He said. "I have a marriage license issued in Managua that says we are married."
He fished around in a drawer behind him and pulled out a piece of paper which he held up to the camera.
"See? It is signed by the proper official and dated two years ago. Why are they doing this to us? If they want to deny my visa, they have that right, but they shouldn't tell lies!"
There was no doubt that he was furious and outraged. It was time to go for broke.
"Dad, they said that you can't be married to Ana Maria because you are already married to someone else."
His anger evaporated, replaced by bewilderment.
"Jamie, they are wrong," he said. 'I am not married to anyone but Ana Maria. Think about it, did this supposed marriage take place in the U.S.? I haven't lived there since I was twenty-one, right before I was deported. I was with your mother then, there was no one else."
Of course! The only marriage INS would pick up on would have to have taken place here. And my dad didn't live here; he hadn't lived here for more than thirty years. I felt stupid for n
ot realizing that on my own, but I was also relieved, so relieved.
"Oh, Dad, you're right, it has to be a mistake. I'm sorry, I should've known. Don't worry--I'll get to the bottom of this."
"Please do that for me," he said. "This must be corrected. Will you do one more thing for me, hija?"
"Anything you need."
"Please don't tell Ana Maria about this, I don't want to worry her. She has enough worries already."
"I won't, Papi." I said. "I promise."
***
I immediately texted Grace to tell her why my dad couldn't possibly be a bigamist. She congratulated me and apologized for putting me through that, for not figuring it out, herself. Two smart lawyers and we'd both missed the obvious; maybe we weren't as smart as we thought. She said she'd try to get a copy of the marriage certificate.
As I drove the short distance to work, I blasted the radio with songs from the 70's, 80's, 90's, and today, singing along when I knew the words and faking it when I didn't. I was in a great mood when I arrived at my office and could hardly believe I was the same person who, just the day before, had thought her world was crashing down around her. Nothing could spoil my good mood, not even when Duke called to say he had traced the e-mails sent to Malcolm. They had come through a shell company in which Benjamin Wolf's company was the majority shareholder. That seemed to point to Benjamin Wolf as I-C-U, but it still didn't feel right to me. Wolf was too loud and blustery, not the type to lie in wait and murder someone, but I supposed he could've hired someone to do it. I told Duke I wanted to talk to Kip before we went to the police and he agreed. It turned out I wasn't the only one in a great mood, Duke finally had the name of the park vandal (it was Jordan Ryder) and had plans to track him down.
The day flew by and it was three o'clock before I knew it. When my cell rang, I didn't recognize the number.
"Hello."
"Is this Jamie?" A female voice inquired, she sounded familiar.
"Yes, who is this?"
"This is Jayashree Patel. I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where Kip is?"
I started laughing. "Good one, Jayashree. Are we taking turns now asking each other where Kip is?"
"No, I'm not playing a joke," she said. "Honestly, I don't know where he is and I'm quite concerned."
I felt my pulse race, and beads of sweat broke out on my upper lip. "Why are you concerned? Did you try his cell?"
"His cell is turned off. Jamie, we need your help, can we meet?"
"I'll meet you wherever you say. What do you mean 'we'?"
"I can't tell you over the phone. Meet me in fifteen minutes on Hollywood Circle by the bandstand."
"I'll be there," I said and hung up.
I was walking out the door when my phone buzzed with an e-mail. I don't know what made me look at it, force of habit, but my heart almost stopped when I read it. I finally had my reply.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
RE: New Job Listing
Opening for Parks Director
Seeking applicants for Director of Broward County Parks. Must be able to follow orders. Independent thinkers need not apply. Vacancy created by unexplained disappearance of current director.
Chapter 36
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I-C-U has Kip!! I couldn't breathe! I took off my shoes and ran from my office all the way to Hollywood Circle three blocks away. I saw Jayashree sitting on a bench and sprinted over to her. Without a word, I handed her my phone so she could read the e-mail from I-C-U. She looked grim and motioned for me to sit.
"But we don't have time for this, we have to go!" I was frantic.
"We don't know where to look yet, just give me three minutes of your time, Jamie."
I sat down and Jayashree launched into her explanation, talking fast and expecting me to keep up.
"For the past year, the Attorney General's office has suspected that certain Broward County elected officials were guilty of corruption and graft, but he had no hard evidence. He decided to set up a sting operation by enlisting a high-ranking county employee. When Kip was hired, they recruited him and he agreed to help."
"What did he have to do?" I asked.
"He had to wear a wire whenever he met with Benjamin Wolf or individual commissioners. We believed that Wolf was bribing certain commissioners, not just donating to their campaigns. We also set up a trap for Quincy Graves to determine if he was working for Wolf."
"Was that the day I overheard you talking to Kip in his office?" I interrupted. "The day Quincy almost ran me over?"
"Yes," she said. "He took the bait and passed the false information on to Wolf."
"What's your role in this? Do you work for the Attorney General?"
"No, I work for a different agency. I'm on assignment from DC."
"DC? Wait, are you FBI?"
She nodded and then continued. "Our team managed to catch one commissioner accepting a bribe, but then made no further progress. We needed to come up with an alternate way to force their hand, so we had Kip refuse to 'play ball' on the Sapphire Sky Tower project. Now it looks like we pushed too hard. Someone really doesn't want Kip at that meeting tomorrow."
"So, where is he?" I demanded. "Do you have any idea?"
She shook her head. "At 2:30, he got a call about a park emergency he said he had to take care of. He told his assistant the park was twenty-five minutes from the office. Since we had been tracking the GPS on his phone and car at all times, we weren't concerned, but twenty minutes ago they were both disabled."
I was about to have a nervous breakdown, I swear. I told her about I-C-U as fast as I could get the words out--how he'd hired a P.I. named Malcolm Armstrong to spy on us and then murdered Malcolm at the Ren-Fest while disguised as a jester. I told her about the first e-mail he'd sent me warning Kip to back off. I told her how the e-mails sent to Malcolm came from one of Wolf's companies and how the money used to pay Malcolm came from county funds authorized by Commissioner Dilly Williams. She nodded at the mention of Dilly's name. I was sure he was the one taking bribes.
"Do you think Benjamin Wolf is I-C-U? Does he have Kip?" I asked.
Jayashree shook her head again. They were watching Wolf so they knew he was currently in his office downtown. She told me she had tried to compile a list of all parks within a twenty-five minute drive of Kip's office, but there were too many.
I was racking my brain, trying to come up with something, anything, but all I could think of was how Kip refused to play ball....play ball, why was that stuck in my brain? Who did I know who played ball? Joey did, Joey the coffee guy whose face had been smashed with a softball, probably by I-C-U. He had left me a message! I rummaged through my purse until I found the scrap of paper his sister had given me. It said: river grass the boat it's the boat. What if he was referring to a park with a river? Think Jamie! I wrote down all the parks we had ever been to and all the ones I knew the names of. River and grass, river…River of grass was another name for the Everglades!! Kip and I had been to Everglades Holiday Park; we had ridden the airboat there. I quickly googled it and found it was exactly twenty-five minutes from Kip's office. Jayashree agreed that it was our best bet so we took off in her car. She drove like a maniac, but we made it there in one piece and drove straight to the airboat rental area.
We got out and Jayashree motioned for me to be quiet and follow her. We walked past a small building that housed the bathrooms. As we rounded the corner I heard someone hiss at me in a low voice.
"Jamie, over here."
Jayashree moved quickly, sneaking up behind the person and drawing her gun all in one smooth motion.
"Who the hell are you?" asked an indignant voice I knew all too well.
I came around the corner and said, "Duke! What are you doing here?"
I don't think I'd ever been happier to see anyone in my life. I turned to Jayashree and said, "Can you please stop pointing your gun at my friend?"
Jayashree put the gun away and Duke took a good look a
t her. He’d probably never seen a gorgeous Indian FBI agent before. I knew I hadn't. Duke, who was crouching on the ground, looked up at me in confusion.
"You want to know what I'm doing here? I'm following the park vandal, like I told you I would. The question is--what are you doing here? And who's the lady with the itchy trigger finger?"
I told him she was FBI, that Kip had gone missing and that we thought I-C-U had set a trap for him, tricking him into coming to the park.
"It can't be a coincidence," Duke muttered.
"What can't?" Jayashree asked.
"I'm here, you're here--the park vandal must be involved in all this."
It made sense, but still brought us no closer to finding Kip.
"We need to get over to the airboats," I said. "There's nowhere else to hide in this park."
And it was true. The river of grass stretched for miles in every direction; the only trees were occasional tall palms that provided no shade or cover at all. The three of us ducked low and made our way cautiously towards the docked boats, stopping behind the closest one on the end. To our surprise, there was a girl standing on the boat looking into the distance through a pair of high-powered binoculars. She was a strange mix of Goth and Biker Chick. I couldn't tell what look she was going for with her bizarre tattoos, multiple face piercings and purple hair cut short and spiky. She clearly knew we were there, but took her time turning around. When she finally did, she looked directly at Duke.
"Hey Dufus, why are you following me?"
Chapter 37
"Following you?" Duke sputtered. "I'm not--wait a minute--don't tell me you're Jordan Ryder?"
"Yup," Goth Girl said, "that's me.
"You're the park vandal?" Duke stared at her in disbelief.
"I prefer the term 'performance artist'," she said, needling him.
Peril in the Park: A Jamie Quinn Mystery Page 9
