by Sharon Potts
“I’ll explain in a minute.” Robbie brushed past Kate on the way to the front door. There was a static shock as they briefly touched. “I’ll be right back.”
Darkness had settled over the courtyard and pool, and palm fronds from the tall royals hung motionless in the thick night air. It was a little after midnight. She hoped he was still home.
She knocked on the door to Gabriele’s apartment.
“Just a minute,” called a singsong voice.
The door opened. Gabriele was wigless and bald, and for an instant, Robbie flashed on her mom looking at herself in the mirror while she was going through chemo. The fear in her eyes.
“Why it’s Robbie!” Gabriele said. He was in full makeup and wearing a sequined bustier and ballet skirt. His dark smooth skin glowed in the dim light. The vision of her mother faded.
Gabriele kissed her cheeks. “Sorry for my surprise. I was expecting Oscar. We’re terribly late for an event at LIV.” He frowned. “Everything’s all right, isn’t it?”
“I need to borrow something.”
“Of course.” He fluttered his long fake lashes. “I always have a cup of sugar for my dear Robbie.”
“Your platinum blonde wig. The one with bangs, shoulder-length straight hair. And I’m in a hurry. I’ll explain tomorrow.”
Gabriele straightened up and lost the cutesy. “I’ll be right back.”
He returned in less than a minute and handed it to her. “Don’t worry about returning it. Oscar prefers me as a redhead.” He gave Robbie a peck on the cheek.
“And can I borrow your cell for a minute? I don’t want my name to come up on caller ID.”
Gabriele pursed his lips. “What mischief are you up to?”
“Please?”
He reached into his bustier and handed her his thin phone.
It was warm and smelled like floral perfume. “Thanks. I’ll bring it right back.”
Gabriele leaned against his open door, long, muscular arms folded across his chest. He shook his head as she hurried along the catwalk back to her apartment.
Robbie found Kate in the living room examining one of Robbie’s half-finished necklaces. Kate looked up. “Did he call?”
Kate was waiting for their father. “No. Not yet,” Robbie said. “I need you to do something.”
Kate scowled at the wig Robbie was holding.
“I’m going to dial Fieldstone’s number, but I want you to talk to him. I’m hoping he recognizes your voice.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want you to arrange a meeting with him.”
Kate glanced at the phone, then went to stand at the living room window. “I don’t think I can do that.”
“Please, Kate. I won’t do anything dangerous or stupid.”
Kate continued looking outside as she pulled on a strand of hair. What was upsetting her?
“You’re setting him up for the police,” Kate said.
“That’s right.”
“And they’ll arrest him.”
“Yes.”
Robbie couldn’t see Kate’s face.
“But what if he isn’t the murderer?” Kate said.
Robbie went over to the window and stood next to her sister. She spoke softly. “What if he is?”
Kate released her hair and let her hand drop to her side. “What do you want me to tell him?”
“Thank you,” Robbie said. She told Kate what to say and punched the number Puck had written on the napkin into the cell phone.
A sleepy voice answered. “Yeah?”
Robbie held out the phone to Kate.
Kate hesitated for a moment, then took it. “Hi,” Kate said, her voice trembling. “I’m not sure you remember me, but I’m the girl who was at BURN on Sunday night.”
Robbie watched Kate’s face, unable to hear Puck’s side of the conversation. Kate sucked in her lower lip. She looked like she was going to cry. “I’m fine,” she said. “That’s not why I’m calling.” She took a deep breath. “I have the DVD. The one you want. If I give it to you, do you promise not to hurt me?”
Puck didn’t appear to answer. Kate pointed at the phone and shook her head. Then Robbie heard a voice coming through.
“I can bring it to your boat,” Kate said, like Robbie had told her to.
There was another moment of silence, then Puck said something.
Kate held the phone to her mouth, as though she wanted to say something else. Then either Puck hung up, or Kate changed her mind. She closed the phone and handed it back to Robbie.
“Thank you, Kate. You did great.”
Kate bit down on her lip.
“I’m just going to give the phone back to Gabriele, then I’ll be right back.”
When Robbie returned, Kate was holding the blonde wig behind her back. She reminded Robbie of a child who hides her mother’s shoes, hoping that will keep her from leaving.
“Don’t go,” Kate said.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to be alone with him. The cops will be surrounding the boat. I’ve set it up with Jeremy.” Robbie held out her hand for the wig.
“I wish you wouldn’t do this.” Kate’s eyes filled with tears.
“Silly Kate. You’re acting like I’m not coming back. I’ll be fine. And once Fieldstone’s arrested, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”
Robbie dressed quickly in a short black dress and heels, then put on the blonde wig and gray contacts that Kate gave her. She applied a lot of makeup and lip liner to make her mouth look fuller. The image in the mirror was startling. It was the girl Robbie had seen at BURN last Friday night. How empty the eyes looked. Empty and hopeless. Robbie had come so close to finding her sister that night. Friday. Before the murders.
She could see Kate watching her in the mirror, but Kate didn’t say a word. She was tugging at a long strand of beads.
Robbie found an unlabeled DVD among her collection. She wrote some numbers on it, then slipped it into her satchel.
Kate followed her through the living room. Matilda took a few running steps after them, stopped, and meowed.
“Okay,” Robbie said at the door. “I’ll call you to let you know what’s happening.”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“That’s right.” Robbie took in a deep breath. “Well, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Kate’s mouth sagged. She seemed unwilling to look Robbie in the eye.
“I thought she was gone,” Kate said without raising her head. “I thought Angel was gone forever.”
“She is, Kate. Angel is gone forever.”
Robbie climbed into Jeremy’s grandfather’s car and sat in front of her apartment building without starting the engine. She could still get out of this. She hadn’t admitted to Kate how scared she was. She remembered a year ago, going off to the deserted file room by herself. She had almost died that night.
But if she didn’t set up Puck like this, would the cops have enough proof to connect him to the murders? They’d have Kate’s testimony, but Robbie knew what a good lawyer could do with that. “Hadn’t you been under the influence of drugs and alcohol, Ms. Brooks? How can you be sure this was the man you saw that night?” And even if they tied Puck to the blackmailers, would they also be able to prove that he had murdered in an attempt to eliminate evidence of his involvement? Especially when the murders pointed so convincingly to Jeremy?
Puck was a far more complex and calculating person than Robbie had imagined. She had no doubt now that he would be able to put off the police with his charisma and golden tongue. He was, after all, Stanford Fieldstone—the great crusader. And who was Jeremy Stroeb? A twenty-something kid scarred by the murders of his own parents, easily brought to anger. A loose cannon.
Loose cannon or great crusader? Whom would the DA prefer to prosecute?
Robbie took her cell phone from her satchel and dialed Jeremy’s number. It rang and rang and rang. Robbie was so sure he’d answer that when the voice mail came on she was
tongue-tied and didn’t leave a message.
He must be in the middle of something with Lieber, Robbie reasoned. He knows I’m calling, so he’ll be checking for voice mails.
She redialed his number and once again it went to voice mail. This time she left a message.
“I’m going to Puck’s boat. It’s in the Miami Beach Marina.” She gave the location of the boat. “It’s a twenty-six-foot cabin cruiser called Aimless. Tell Lieber everything and meet me there.”
Chapter 47
Jeremy wanted a cigarette. He really, really wanted a cigarette. But he hadn’t smoked since—well, he hadn’t smoked since Marina. And after all that had happened with her, he’d sworn off smoking. But now, it was like déjà vu. And not a good kind of déjà vu.
He went over to the screened-in porch window. Outside, the street was quiet. What was Robbie up to? Why hadn’t she called yet? He touched his pocket. His phone was in there, but he didn’t want Lieber to see him checking it. He had turned it to vibrate at Mike’s house, but he’d definitely feel it when Robbie called him.
He walked back across the porch. Damn, he wanted a cigarette.
“So?” Lieber said. “Are you going to stop pacing like an expectant father and tell me what’s going on?”
Lieber sat on a floral-print chair, her hands gripping the wicker armrests.
She sure wasn’t acting too cool herself. She had arrived at his grandfather’s house a short while ago, and she and Jeremy had decided to stay on the front porch so they could talk out of the earshot of Jeremy’s grandfather and Elise. But it was weird being out here with the rattan carts of plants and the slow-spinning ceiling fan. This wasn’t a place for detectives. This was where Jeremy used to sit on his grandmother’s lap playing with the rhinestone eyeglasses she always wore on a chain around her neck.
“Jeremy. I don’t have all night.”
“Okay.” Jeremy sat down on the sofa, catty-corner from Lieber. He realized he was massaging his injured right fist with his left hand, and stopped. “Here’s the Cliff’s Notes version. First, I think you know this, but I need to say it up front. I didn’t kill anyone.”
Her face remained unreadable.
How much should he tell her? Too much and she’d overreact. Maybe even arrest him. And he couldn’t let that happen. He needed to be able to go with Lieber to help Robbie.
“I had an argument with this club girl named Tyra down at the pool this afternoon.”
Lieber tensed.
“Then a little while later, someone knocks on my door. It’s this young blonde, who’s always hanging out with Tyra. The girl tells me that someone attacked Tyra and she ran away because she was afraid for her own life.”
Lieber hadn’t moved. Jeremy’s fingers were twitching. Where was Robbie? Damn, he wished he had a cigarette. “Then,” he continued, “Robbie comes by and we figure out that this blonde girl, Angel, is really Kate.”
“What?” Lieber leaned forward in her chair. “You found Kate Brooks? She’s safe?” She started to stand. “Where is she? I must talk to her.”
He needed to stall her. “Kate’s fine. She’s with Robbie. Please, let me finish and then you can go do your thing.”
Lieber sat back down, remaining on the edge of the cushioned seat.
“Anyway, we realized that the cops might assume I had something to do with the attack on Tyra, so we left the SOBE. We took a taxi here.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you managed to get around the police lockdown.”
Jeremy shrugged. “We came here and Kate’s safe, and that’s pretty much it.”
“That’s pretty much it?” Lieber said.
How much more should Jeremy tell her? If he brought up the blackmailing ring, that would lead to him and Robbie going down to Key Largo, and then he’d have to explain about the two dead bodies. He wished Robbie would call, so he could tell Lieber what was going on. Why the hell did he let Robbie take off by herself and not tell him exactly what she was up to?
“Okay,” Lieber said. “You said Robbie went home. Where’s Kate now?”
“With Robbie. They wanted some sister time alone.”
She shook her head. “You both know better than that. If Kate was a witness to the attack on Tyra, I need to talk to her. Why the hell would Robbie leave here with her? That was irresponsible and evasive.” She reached into the pocket of her white blouse and took out her cell phone. “I’m furious with the two of you. Absolutely furious.”
Jeremy looked down at the woven straw area rug. He hated being yelled at. Lieber made him feel like he was ten years old.
Lieber was about to punch something into her phone, when it rang. She looked annoyed, but answered it.
The expression on the detective’s face changed to confusion, to disbelief, to anger. She listened for a long time. Finally, she said, “Okay. I’ve got that covered.”
She closed the phone and looked at Jeremy, her lips so tight together, they practically disappeared. “After you and Robbie came back here with Kate, where did you go?”
Jeremy felt his body heat up and sweat break out all over him. “Nowhere,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “We stayed here. We’ve been here the whole time.”
“Oh, Jeremy.”
He could swear she was going to cry. Her grayish brown hair hung limply around her sagging cheeks. She was in her fifties—maybe a little older than Jeremy’s mother would have been—why the heck was she putting herself through all this crap by being a detective?
“That phone call was from a detective with the Monroe county sheriff’s department down in Key Largo,” Lieber said.
Jeremy began to shake. He tried with all his might to control it, but it just made him sweat more. He could feel it running down his face.
“Where’s your cell phone, Jeremy?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled it out. He stared at the object in his hand in disbelief. A tin of mints. He blanked for a moment, then it came back to him. Robbie had given him the mints in the car. But where the hell was his phone? He felt his other pockets. Empty. His phone was gone. Impossible. Robbie was supposed to call him. And then, he remembered hearing a sound in the undergrowth when they were running away from Mike’s house. A sound like a small stone falling. He’d been in too big a hurry to check it out.
“The detective down in the Keys just found a phone, Jeremy. Your phone. In some bushes near Mike’s house. He said they never would have seen it, but it started making a vibrating noise.”
Robbie. That was all he could think about. Robbie was trying to reach him. She wouldn’t be stupid enough to go forward with her plan without speaking to him first, would she?
“Why is your phone in the bushes near Mike’s house?”
Cover or tell the truth? Robbie would wait to speak with him before she confronted Fieldstone; he was sure she’d wait.
“So that’s where my phone is,” Jeremy said. “I lost it Monday night.”
Lieber shook her head. “The detective also told me there was a big accident on U.S. 1. No one was seriously injured, but eyewitnesses said an old, gold Honda was speeding and driving recklessly. It caused the accident.”
A cigarette. He needed a cigarette.
Lieber was looking at his leather shoes, splattered with mud. “Where’s your grandfather’s car, Jeremy?”
“Robbie has it.”
“I’m going to ask you again. Were you in Key Largo this evening?”
Robbie. She wouldn’t wait. She’d leave a voice mail, since she knew he was expecting her call.
Jeremy needed to tell Lieber about Robbie. What Robbie was doing. That she had been trying to call him. That she was in danger. But where? Where had Robbie gone? Why hadn’t he made her tell him?
“Two bodies were found at Mike’s house,” Lieber said. “They appear to have been murdered a few hours ago. Someone trailed mud into the house. There are footprints everywhere.”
Lieber stood up and reached for something on her belt. Je
remy’s grandfather was opening the glass door that led from the house to the porch, Geezer close at his heels. His grandfather pushed his glasses up on his nose, looking perplexed.
“Wait,” Jeremy said to Lieber. “Please, listen to me. Robbie’s in danger. You’ve got to send backup to help her.”
“I’m sorry, Jeremy.” Lieber took in a deep breath and tightened the handcuffs around his wrists. “Jeremy Stroeb, you have the right to remain silent—”
Chapter 48
Robbie stood near the apartment buildings on one side of the promenade. A short distance away, the Aimless was bobbing in the water, tethered to the dock by a couple of thick ropes. Lights were on inside the boat, but curtains blocked Robbie’s view of the interior. Was Puck looking out, watching her?
The moon was struggling to push out from behind the dense clouds and there were intermittent flashes of light in the otherwise tarry sky. A group of young men holding beer bottles walked by, giving Robbie the creeps. She stepped away from them, closer to the buildings, wondering if anyone directly above could see her if there was trouble down here.
One of the men made a rapid kissing sound, but the group continued on.
She took a deep breath. The blonde wig felt hot and conspicuous on her head. The blank DVD was in her satchel, which she held against her chest. She was sure she felt it throbbing, like the telltale heart in Edgar Allan Poe’s story. But she knew it was her own heart that was pounding.
What in heaven’s name was she doing? There was no sign of Jeremy or the cops. What if he hadn’t gotten her message? If she confronted Puck without any backup, she was as good as dead. And while Robbie knew herself to be reckless at times, she wasn’t a complete idiot.
She started walking away from the boat, back past Monty’s Raw Bar. It was after one in the morning and the restaurant was closed, though she could make out some people inside cleaning up for the night. She continued on toward the parking garage, where she’d left Jeremy’s grandfather’s car, and sat down on a gear locker that overlooked the bay. She took out her cell phone and dialed Jeremy’s number. It went to voice mail.
Damn.
