Jimmy paused in the midst of zipping up the duffel. He hadn’t thought of that.
“You can’t tell her what you’re planning to do,” Sue said. “She won’t go along with it willingly and you have to get Tulio back. Angela lost her husband. She can’t lose her little boy too.”
Jimmy’s gut clenched. “Don’t you think I know that?” When Sue stiffened, he relented and said, “I’m sorry, Suzy-Q, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
She reached out and rubbed his shoulder. “I know, Jimmy. I know this has to be tough on you. All you’ve ever wanted was to keep that little boy safe and make amends for what happened.”
Jimmy bowed his head. “This is my fault.”
“If you believe that then fix it. Go find Mitch and bring Tulio home.”
He nodded. “If I bring Angela to the States, can she stay with you for a few days?”
“Of course she can. Is there anything else I can do?”
“Actually, there is.” He removed the baseball cap he’d stolen from the clothing-optional bar and smoothed his hair back. “Do you have your scissors with you? I need a trim.”
Sue had been a hairdresser in Alaska back in the day, and she still cut hair whenever anyone let her. She grinned. “I’ve got my kit in my locker. I’ll be back in two flicks of a bison’s tail.”
“You’re the best.”
“I know.”
Jimmy finished zipping the duffel and then took some clean clothes out of the closet. There was a small private bathroom and shower stall connected to his office. He scratched his bearded chin, suddenly eager to feel clean again.
His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He glanced at the number and saw it was his brother. “Jonas,” he said, putting the phone to his ear.
“I had eyes on the boy. Bautista’s soldiers boarded him onto a small prop plane. I was able to pin a tracking device to the landing gear.”
“Thanks, bro. Can you do something else for me? Is it possible for you to bring Tulio’s mother to Key West?”
He hesitated only slightly. “Affirmative.”
“How fast can you move?”
“I can retrieve her and be in Key West by oh-six-hundred hours tomorrow.”
“Good. That will give us enough time to rendezvous before I head out of here.”
Sue knocked softly and reentered the office carrying a small green case in one hand and a fresh Corona in the other. Jimmy smiled. She knew him so well.
“Call me when you get in. And thanks again.” He hit End on the phone and then took the beer from Sue. She’d already squeezed the lime for him. “Suzy-Q, if you weren’t already married, I’d be inclined to pop the question.”
“You’d never make any woman a good husband. You’re too pretty.”
“The hell I am.” He scratched the dead animal on his chin.
“There’s an old woman out there asking for you. I had Ashley tell her you weren’t here, but she parked her behind on a stool and ordered a Tom Collins. You should have seen Ashley’s face. She said, ‘Tom who?’”
“Tom Collins. Gin, lemon juice, sugar—”
“And club soda, yeah, I know. I told her how to make it. The old woman saw me come in here. She gave me the hairy eyeball when I walked past her.”
“You know who she is?”
“I’ve seen her around. I think she works over at that old diner across from the high school.”
“Maybe she’s looking for a job?”
Sue shook her head as she started unpacking her gear. “I don’t think so. Pull that chair over here, will you?” She gestured to the straight back chair against the wall.
Jimmy closed the safe and rehung the picture of his old pals. “Want me to take my shirt off?”
“This is a haircut, not a seduction. Sit down.”
There was a loud, purposeful knock at the door. Jimmy suspected who it was before the door swung open, revealing the disgruntled, gin-soaked senior citizen behind it. She stared at him for one hard minute before she stepped into the room and slammed the door closed. “I knew you were in here, Jimmy Panama, and don’t pretend you don’t know who I am, because you do.”
“Edith Thompson,” he said as recognition dawned.
She nodded. “It’s been awhile.”
Not long enough. He’d forgotten that Mad Dog’s momma lived in town.
Edith hobbled forward and craned her neck to look up at him. The tiny woman barely reached the middle of his chest. “I hear Sophie’s in town,” she said.
“Sophie?” Shit. He’d blame it on the beer, but he hadn’t drank enough today to be this stupid. Well, hell, it wasn’t his responsibility to organize the family reunion, was it?
“I want to see her.”
His gaze darted to Sue, pleading for help.
She shrugged.
“You want to see her,” Jimmy said.
“What are you, a frickin’ parrot? I don’t like smart-asses. Where’s my granddaughter?”
“She’s safe.”
“I heard there was trouble. One of Mitch’s enemies tried to kidnap her. Did they get the map?”
“The map?”
“There you go with that parroting crap again. My son has spent the past two years searching for a map that belonged to his father. A week ago, he called me from Jamaica and told me you were going to pick it up in Miami and bring it to me.”
Jimmy’s head came up. “He actually told you he was in Jamaica?”
“He never tells me where he is, but he mentioned he’d just picked up a jar of my favorite jerk spice, and I know for a fact you can only buy that particular brand in Kingston.”
“The only thing Mitch asked me to do was to pick up a package in Miami and bring it back to Key West. It contained a medallion. He didn’t say anything about a map.”
“It’s probably inside the medallion, you numbskull.” To Sue, she said, “It looks like a map to Hemmingway’s favorite fishing spot, and it is, but it also contains a secret treasure map.”
The Thompsons and their treasure maps. Jimmy massaged his forehead. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s the secret treasure?”
The old woman’s eyes twinkled. “The Firefly Emerald.”
“The Firefly Emerald is a myth,” Jimmy said.
“It’s as real as my middle finger right here.” She showed him the finger she was referring to. She said, “When I get the map back, I intend to prove the treasure is real.”
Gin fumes wafted up to him, but other than the smell and the crazy talk, she showed no other signs of being drunk.
Jimmy frowned at Sue for not locking the door when she came back.
“Sorry, boss,” she said understanding the look and quickly turned away to search for an outlet to plug in the electric razor she was holding.
“Legend says Hemmingway won the rock from some desperate South American royal in a poker game,” Edith explained. “He brought it back to Key West and used it for a paperweight in his office. Years later, when he started to become paranoid the Feds were watching him, he buried the rock and created the map.”
Jimmy crossed his arms. “Let me get this straight, you’re claiming that The Firefly Emerald is not only real, but it’s buried somewhere on the island?”
“My husband believed it and that’s good enough for me.” She turned to Sue and said, “Mitch Senior, God rest his soul, bought the map from Hemmingway’s estate after the writer passed. His people considered it worthless, but my husband believed in the legend with all his heart.” She crossed to the desk and leaned heavily on its edge. “When we went bankrupt in ‘09, those louses down at the bank made us sell everything we owned of value including the map. Some South American businessman bought it.”
Businessman, his ass. Bautista was the largest drug kingpin in South America. And Mad Dog had stolen the map from the bastard’s safe. Florez said this wasn’t about an artifact, though, and Jimmy doubted Bautista was into bogus treasure maps. While Mad Dog was pinching the map, he had to have helped himself to something e
lse inside that safe. Something a rival faction was desperate to get their hands on. Or maybe they just wanted to prevent Bautista from getting it back. Either scenario would explain why two hit men were on the Duchess’ tail.
“Two years ago, when my husband died, my son became obsessed with bringing the map home so his daddy could rest in peace.” Edith looked up at Jimmy. “Sit down so the girl can cut your hair. Though I doubt a haircut is gonna do it. You need a miracle worker to fix what’s wrong with you. That caveman look wasn’t even popular in my day.”
Sue stood behind the chair she’d placed in the center of the room, trying to play it cool but enjoying herself way too much at his expense. He shot her a dirty look before he gave her his back and sat.
Edith moved behind the desk and made herself comfortable on the worn leather office chair. The desk had seen better days, so that was probably why she thought it was okay to put her feet up on it. Jimmy could hardly blame her. He used it more for a footstool than a workspace, too.
“What’s she like, my granddaughter?”
Jimmy snorted. How did he answer this one honestly without pissing Grandma off? “It’s obvious she comes from money. She fits the stereotype of the sheltered rich girl. Prim, no-nonsense, a little stuck-up.”
Edith made a face. “Sounds like her mother. What does she look like?”
“Tall, thin, dark hair.”
“Yeah, yeah. Give it to me straight.”
“Classy broad, nice tits, legs that could reach the sky.”
“Jimmy!” Sue smacked his shoulder with a comb.
Edith gave a satisfied nod. “Sounds like she got her looks from our side of the family. Too bad she has a stick up her ass like her mother. I hated that woman. She didn’t just break my son’s heart, she demolished it.”
“The Duchess ain’t that bad.”
Edith snorted. “Why do you call her ’the Duchess’ then?”
Sue angled Jimmy’s head forward. He looked at the floor while she trimmed the back of his hair.
“I think she sincerely wants to find her daddy,” he said. “I think she feels like she missed out on something. She doesn’t seem like she’s holding a grudge, even though he ran out on her and her momma before she was born.”
“He ran out on them?” The old woman sat forward so fast she almost slipped off the chair. Her jowls trembled as she repeated, “He ran out on them?” She sat back and her pale, weathered face clouded with contemplation.
“Now who’s the parrot?”
“You have a smart mouth, Jimmy Panama.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“Well, I’m choosing to take it as one.”
“Do you talk to your mother that way?”
“No, ma’am. My momma is dead.”
If he’d been expecting sympathy from Edith Thompson, he would’ve been sorely disappointed. “Take me to Sophie,” she said.
“Can’t. Bringing you to her might compromise her safety.”
“There. All finished,” Sue said, standing back to have a look at Jimmy’s hair.
“Do you know what you’re doing, young lady?” Edith got up and limped around the desk. “He doesn’t look any different than when I walked through that door. That’s not a haircut, that’s a joke. Let me have a crack at him.”
“No!” Jimmy and Sue said at the same time.
“Then do the job right.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And you.” She pointed to Jimmy. “Figure out how you’re going to make this happen. I have to see Sophie.”
Jimmy narrowed his eyes. “This doesn’t have anything to do with grandmotherly affection, does it? You just want that map back.”
Edith shrugged and returned to her seat. “Everyone’s got their own agenda in this world, Jimmy Panama. You should know that better than anyone.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sophie opened her eyes and found a large pink teddy bear staring back at her. She squinted against the glare of the morning sunlight creeping in the through the mini-blinds and took in the unfamiliar room. A poster of a grinning teenage boy with great hair and puppy dog eyes hung on the wall above the bear. More posters of the same boy in various poses graced the other walls along with a map of the world and a horse-themed wall calendar. A white cowboy hat with a thin sparkly silver band hung on a peg beside the door. An old oak bookshelf overstuffed with well-read paperbacks stood out amongst the white rattan furniture. The thin quilt Sophie let drop to her waist as she sat up was purple with white daisies.
She was in a teenager’s room. Cheyenne’s room.
Muffled voices drifted through the closed door. Molly and her daughter were awake and moving about the house.
Air-conditioning droned through the ceiling vent making Sophie shiver as she darted from the bed to the hall bathroom. She made use of the facilities and took a quick shower before returning to the bedroom to dress in the wrinkled clothes she’d draped over the back of the desk chair the night before, but they were gone.
A neatly folded stack of clothes sat on the desktop with a note suggesting she could wear these clothes until her dress was finished washing. Her stomach sank. It would have been a kind gesture, really, if the garment wasn’t strictly dry-clean only. Tears sprung to her eyes. It was just a dress, she told herself, but it was the only thing of her own that she had left for the moment aside from a pair of broken high heels. She sat heavily on the bed, mourning the dress along with everything else she’d lost recently.
When she finally garnered the strength to don the borrowed clothes, she stood in front of the dresser mirror to tie her hair back into a ponytail with a scrunchy. The slogan on the light pink T-shirt stretched boldly across her bosom shouted at her in fat black letters: SAVE THE TA-TAS. Couldn’t Molly spare a less humiliating shirt? At least the jeans were the right length for her long legs. Unfortunately, they fit her hips and bum as snugly as an old leather glove. She didn’t recognize her own reflection. She looked younger than her age and very American.
“Oh, good, the clothes fit,” Molly said to Sophie when she emerged from the bedroom.
The living room, which contained a worn tan sofa, an old-fashioned tube television, and a pair of acoustic guitars propped on stands in the corner, opened onto the dining area. Cheyenne sat at the round wooden table eating a bowl of cereal. Molly, visible through the pass-through to the kitchen, was washing a dish in the sink.
“I picked up those jeans at a thrift shop in Memphis for Cheyenne, but they were too long for her. The top is brand new. I got it at a breast cancer awareness fundraiser I sang at last October. It’s too small for me and Chi won’t wear it. I don’t know why though. I think it’s adorable.”
Sophie understood the teenager’s aversion perfectly. She tugged on the hem of the snug-fitting T-shirt and moistened her dry lips. “I don’t normally wear trousers, but they feel quite nice. Where’s my dress?”
“Cheyenne just tossed it in the dryer. It should be out soon.”
Tears welled behind Sophie’s eyes again, but she blinked them back and sucked it up. Nothing could be done about it now.
“What’s the matter, hun?”
“The dress was dry-clean only.”
“Oh no!” Molly came around the island carrying a glass of orange juice. “Cheyenne Dallas MacBain, I told you to read the label before you threw that dress in the wash.”
The teenager refused to look up from her Cheerios. “I forgot.”
Molly set the glass in front of the girl, sloshing juice on the table. “Why don’t I believe you?” She disappeared into a small room off the kitchen and came back a moment later with Sophie’s green polka dot dress, holding it up. It had shrunk to half its size. “Oh my goodness, it’s ruined. I’m so sorry about this. I’ll buy you a new one.” Molly draped the dress over the breakfast barstool and grabbed her purse off the counter.
“It’s quite all right.”
“No, I insist.” She dug ar
ound inside the oversized bag and pulled out her checkbook. “Just tell me how much it cost?”
“Fifteen hundred dollars US.”
Molly’s nauseated expression was an exact replica of the look on her daughter’s face. Cheyenne jumped up from the table and carried her half-eaten bowl of cereal to the sink.
“Come back here, young lady, and face the music.”
Cheyenne sulked back to the table, tears glistening in her eyes. “I didn’t know it cost so much. She just looked so pretty in it, Mr. Panama couldn’t take his eyes off her yesterday. I thought if she was dressed plain like us, he might notice you instead.”
“Aw, honey,” Molly said, “even if Jimmy did notice me, I wouldn’t go out with him. He’s not for me.”
The girl sniffled and used the back of her hands to swipe her tears away. “But why not?”
“For starters, he’s my boss and you know my rule about that. Stop worrying about me, sugar. I have everything I need to make me happy right here,” Molly said, putting her arm around her daughter and squeezing her shoulders. “Our little family. We don’t need a man to complete us.”
“I really didn’t know the dress was so expensive. I’m sorry, Ma.” The girl buried her tear-stained face in the crook of her mother’s neck. Molly stroked her back and shot Sophie an apologetic look.
“It’s okay, really,” Sophie said. “It was a mistake. I’ve got nothing to accessorize it with now, anyhow. I’ve lost my purse and my shoes are ruined.”
“No, they’re not!” Molly said. “They’re gorgeous. The heel is just a little loose on the one.”
“How would you know—” She stopped, seeing Molly’s sheepish expression.
The woman pulled back from her daughter and held the girl’s face in her hands. “Go wash up and finish getting ready for school.”
Cheyenne nodded and said to Sophie in a small voice, “I’m really sorry for ruining your dress.”
Sophie pressed her lips together and nodded gravely.
When the girl disappeared into the bathroom, Molly retrieved the shoes, handling them with reverence. “I’ve never had a pair of designer shoes on my feet before. They were just sitting by the door and I figured, ‘What’s the harm?’ but I swear I was careful.”
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