This was my first positive response about Annalise. At least I hoped it was positive. Her name wasn’t Ava, so that was a good start. It was eight thirty on St. Marcos, a respectable time to call, especially since she’d sent the message earlier that morning. I grabbed my phone and coached myself to keep the desperation out of my voice. I dialed and someone picked up.
“Al-loh?” I heard. The accent sounded Eastern European and the voice female. Maybe the accent explained the funny email address.
“My name is Katie Kovacs. You emailed me about my rainforest house.”
“Yah, I have friend who tell me you looking for help. What you need, and where you need it?”
“Well, we need someone to help us coordinate repairs up at our house at 18 Estate Annalise, in the rainforest.”
“Ma sta ti hoces da ti radim u toj ludoj kuci?”
“Ummmm, excuse me, I didn’t understand you?”
“Oh, sorry, sometimes I forget and talk in Yugoslavian. I asking what you need me to do. I know house, I think. The big one Locals call jumbie house?”
“I think so, but it’s not a jumbie house. Well, not really, anyway.”
“No, it is OK, really, it doesn’t bother me. I just know which it is, I think.”
“Yes, that’s it. I’m looking for someone to live up there for a couple of months and manage the finish-out. It’s a beautiful house, with a pool and lots of places to hike and bicycle.”
“OK, I do it.”
I was at a loss for words. I hadn’t named a price, and I didn’t know anything about this person. She might be a crook herself. She might not be capable of the things I needed her to do.
She said, “You on Facebook?”
“Yes,” I said, although I found her question odd.
“I send you friend request right now. You see me. Maybe we have friends same, you know, for reference.”
“That’s a good idea.”
I logged in. There it was. I clicked Accept and found myself staring at a picture of a nearly middle-aged Pippi Longstocking. For real? My long-lost Yugoslavian twin sister. Her name was Stefania Szvinyarovich, which I had zero idea how to say.
I sent messages to a few mutual friends for references. I had thrown out the chum, and now I would wait. But notifications popped up immediately, two bites within five minutes. Didn’t people have anything better to do than Facebook? I squelched my inner critic, because if they did, I’d still be sitting there with nothing.
Both people claimed Stefania was a solid citizen and a serial house sitter who often did the legwork for off-island owners. One of our mutual friends described her as a Slavic female Clint Eastwood. That sounded fantastic, whatever it was.
“Thank you, God,” I said, face upraised, eyes closed.
I emailed Stefania with a rate of pay, copying Betsy, and suggested that if Stefania found the pay acceptable, Betsy should get her a key ASAP. I attached a work list and clicked Send with a hopeful heart.
I turned away from the laptop. It was not yet eight a.m., but already music from the radio was filling our apartment. Nick. How could anyone stay in the dumps with him around? He was rolling around on the floor with Taylor, wrestling and being silly. Oso was prancing around them and whining, looking over at me for permission, but if he joined in the game, the TV in the small room was toast. I wasn’t convinced Nick and Taylor wouldn’t demolish it themselves.
“No roughhousing inside, boys,” I said, then thought, I sound like my mother. WWMD, for real. I laughed and caught the lamp as it rocked off the sofa table. “Yo, Nick.” I held it up.
Nick looked as tousled as his little wrestling partner. He stood up and said, “We have to stop, Taylor. We can’t break things.”
“And can you turn down the stereo a little while you’re at it?” I asked. Now I sounded more like my grandmother than my mother.
“I’d be happy to turn this crap completely off,” Nick said. “I’ve hated this band ever since Teresa came home starstruck when Derek met Slither in rehab. Like being pals with a famous heroin addict somehow made dealing drugs cooler.”
We were going to Port A for the day to visit Kurt and Julie, and I needed to kick it into high gear. I scurried into the kitchen to pack drinks and snacks for Taylor, fighting a sudden attack of the barfies. I had not gotten near enough sleep and I needed to eat some breakfast soon. But first I needed a pair of jeans. I ran to the bedroom and change, then came back into the living room and announced, “Time to go visit Grammy and Grandpa!”
Taylor started running for the door.
“Wait for us,” I called as Nick and I snatched up keys, bags, wallets, purse, and leash. I looked around, feeling like something was missing. What had we forgotten?
Oso wagged his tail. It made thump, thump, thump noises as it hit the coffee table. Ah, yes. The dog. I snapped the leash onto Oso, who now also tried to run for the door. It was pandemonium, in a not-so-bad way. Katie Kovacs, butt-kicking cat herder of Corpus Christi.
We drove onto the double-decker steel ferry in our sharesie blue Tahoe, pulling in tight like sardines in a can. Waves were crashing against the hull of the boat. It was windy and cloudy, common in the late fall there, I’d been told. I was thankful to be in our warm car.
Taylor was asleep in his car seat, snoring peacefully. A family trait. Nick leaned over and kissed the boy’s head. When he sat up, he ran his hand through his hair.
Uh oh. My stomach tensed. But Nick’s eyes were bright, not upset. He looked energized.
“I need to tell you what’s going to happen while you’re at my parents’ house today.”
You? I’d thought the visit to his parents was an us thing. “What’s going on, Nick?”
“Remember the other day when you told me about the kid dealing drugs in front of Parker-Johnson?”
“Yes.”
“I couldn’t get that coincidence out of my mind, with Derek’s younger brother going to school there.”
I saw where he was going. “You thought the kid was Derek’s little brother.”
His eyes sparkled. “Right. And if he was Derek’s brother, and if he was selling drugs,” Nick paused, timing his lines, “then where was he getting them, and was it connected to Derek? I decided to check it out.”
Everything made sense to me except the gap between when Nick had made these connections and now, the moment when he got around to telling me about them. The space was suddenly stuffy. I cracked my window. “Wait, when?” I asked.
He looked at me and lifted his shoulders in an I’m-busted-so-please-don’t-hurt-me sort of way. “I’ve done some things I wouldn’t normally do in the last few days to get to information. So, I’ve held back a little. I didn’t want to get you in trouble along with me, in case I got caught.”
“That’s comforting,” I said.
“C’mon, you’re the one with a law license. I can’t put you at risk. And I need to tell you about this now.”
I swallowed my snarky response. This conversation was not helping my stomach. I took a deep breath of salty air through my nose. It smelled like fish and diesel. I raised the window back up. “Then tell me,” I said.
“I went to the school, I saw what you saw, and it looked like this kid was selling.” He pressed his lips together hard. “But after school, he walked to Chico’s where Derek works, and estranged big brother gave him a ride back to his neighborhood, where Bobby—that’s his name—walked the rest of the way home.”
“So much for the parents cutting off their relationship.” I was interested, even if I was concerned.
“I know. And this raised all kinds of questions. Why was Bobby coming to the store? Was it just brothers hanging out, or was he picking up drugs or dropping off money there? I’d already followed Derek. He wasn’t meeting with suppliers. But maybe somebody else at the shop was helping them.”
“Like who?”
“Well, not customers. I’ve been watching Derek at the store for weeks, and none of the customers seemed suspicious. But t
he shop has other employees, an owner, and regular service providers.” Nick looked pleased with himself. Again, he paused.
“And you found out what?”
“The assistant manager and Derek go way, way back and run with the same crowd. He hasn’t done time like Derek, but that could just mean he’s smarter. So this guy Richie is the one I tail now.”
Nick had changed to present tense. Hold on for the ride, I thought.
“I’d noticed before that he brings a bag in the store every morning, and it’s empty when he leaves. I thought it was store business. But yesterday, I see him stop at an old warehouse. He comes out with crates of fruit. Way too much fruit for him and this girlfriend he lives with, and I know he’s not selling it out of a fruit stand on the side of the road.”
I tugged on my silver hoop earring and twisted it, dread building. “I don’t like the thought of you following this guy. It doesn’t sound good.”
“Ah, but it is good. It is very good. But I decided rather than break into warehouses and houses in the middle of the night, I would turn it over to the authorities, so here’s the best part: I called your brother.”
“You called Collin?!” My mouth fell open and hung there.
“He did tell me to call if I ever needed anything.”
“But why him?”
“Because he works anti-drug.”
“In New Mexico.”
“But he’s family. So I called him yesterday morning, and I told him what I had. He was jacked up about it. He called the drug unit down here in Corpus, and the guy he talked to, Joe Fisher, was a few years behind me in high school in Port Aransas.”
My jaw moved up and down to no effect. I was processing as fast as I could, but Nick stayed one step ahead of me.
“Collin sold it to Joe. Joe brought me in, I told my story, and they’ve been checking it out ever since then at top speed. Collin’s flying in right now and the police are going after them at Chico’s this afternoon.”
I found my voice. “Stop there.” I put the back of my hand against my hot forehead. “I’m not sure I understand. Collin’s coming and there’s going to be a raid today? Today?”
“Today. So it’s great that we were already planning to come out to Port A. I can drop you and Taylor off, then pick Collin up from the airport in Corpus.”
My stomach rolled. “Tell me you’re not involved in this raid.”
“Not really. But Collin is coming in kind of as a consultant, and he asked for my help.”
“You can’t do that!” Taylor made protesting noises but didn’t wake up. I took it down a notch. “You aren’t trained for this type of thing.”
“It’s OK. Collin and I will be in a communications van down the street. Way down the street. I’ll help identify people the team captures on video feed, but I won’t be anywhere I could be hurt.” He put his hand on my arm. “Plus I’ll be there to make sure Collin doesn’t do anything stupid.”
I spoke fast, through gritted teeth. “The stupid thing is for a desk jockey PI to be anywhere near a drug raid. The stupid thing is for the man who wants custody of Taylor to do something that could get him hurt or killed. The stupid thing is for my husband to care so little about me that he puts himself at risk unnecessarily.” Then my chin dropped to my chest, my energy spent. He really could get himself killed. My stomach churned again. I still hadn’t eaten the apple I’d brought to settle my stomach.
Taylor started to cry and I stroked his head. “Go to sleep, Taylor. We’re still on the boat.” He stopped crying, but he whimpered and kept his eyes open.
Nick sat very still. He bit down on his bottom lip, then exhaled. “We only have five or ten more minutes. It would be really nice not to fight with you. I love you. I love Taylor. Everything will be fine, I promise you, I will be smart. But I have to do this. It’s important to me, to us, and I need you to understand that, even if you don’t like it.”
I didn’t like it. Not at all. Events were spinning out of my control. I was scared for him and what could happen. But I knew the part of Nick that needed to protect Taylor. To protect family. I felt the seconds ticking by, and I dug deep, then deeper still, looking for the supportiveness and serenity of the nurturing empress that damn fortuneteller had promised me. I got Taylor out of his car seat and pulled him into my lap. His little body was a space heater. I smoothed down his sweaty hair and rocked him back and forth.
I put my chin on his head and tried again. “I love you, too. I am going to pray for you to be safe. When you come to pick us up, I will be over this, because I do understand. I’m just not quite there yet.” I turned my head and met Nick’s eyes.
He leaned over and put his arms around both of us. “I’ll take that.” He pressed his face into my hair. “And when I come pick you up, we’ll have Derek out of our lives.”
The ferry bumped the dock. Nick released us and started the car.
My mind grabbed a line out of a song I used to sing as a kid, but changed up the lyrics to fit. Over the ocean and through the town, to grandmother’s house we go.
Two of us, anyway.
Chapter Forty-seven
“It’s so nice having you all close enough for a day visit,” Julie said. “Although I hate that Nick got called back to work.” She had pulled her short, dark hair back in a headband. Between that and the light in her eyes when she looked at her grandson, she looked forty instead of sixty. It was good that she’d bought Nick’s excuse. I didn’t want her to worry. I tried forcing myself to match her perkiness.
“Me, too!”
It was just us and Oso. Kurt was still on shift as chief pilot in the ship channel. Julie wasn’t teaching that day, so there would be no students coming to the house. I wished there were, so I could relax.
The endless morning dragged by as Taylor and Oso played hide-and-go-seek and innumerable other games with Julie, and I tried to stay in the moment, or at least appear to. But I didn’t do very well at it. Stress gnawed at me. I wanted to go to sleep and just have the entire day be over, but I didn’t dare.
We ate an early lunch on the back porch that overlooked one of the canals that snake through the neighborhoods of Port Aransas, then I put Taylor down for his nap in Teresa’s old room. This was the time I had dreaded. How could I hide my fears from Julie when all her attention was on me? But she announced that she needed to run some errands.
Perfect. “Can I use your desktop while you’re out?”
“Of course. There’s no password. Just turn it on and you’ll be good to go. I’ll be home by the time Taylor wakes up. Kurt’s going to be late. There was a big drug bust in the harbor today, some South Americans smuggling cocaine in seafood, if you can believe, so the harbor got really backed up. He may beat me home, but if he does, it won’t be by much.”
I nodded. What was it with bad guys stuffing drugs into food? Something about the story niggled me, but I let it go. I set myself up at Julie’s desk in Nick’s old room and checked for messages on my phone while the computer booted up. One from Nick: “I have Collin with me. I love you.”
I could pretend I didn’t see it. I was still upset, but I’d done the run-off-and-pout thing in St. Marcos, and that hadn’t worked out so well for me. I could evolve. Or try to.
“I love you, too. Please be careful.” Then I sent one more. “Tell Collin he’s in as much trouble as you.”
I logged into my email, moving away from Nick troubles and onto the jumbie house that would not let me go. First, a reply from Stefania: we had a deal. She’d already driven over to Betsy’s office and picked up the key. She, her laptop, and an overnight bag were on the way to Annalise. Could I call?
Yes. In twenty minutes on the phone, we sussed out the work list to get Annalise back in shape. Stefania was enthusiastic and bright. She radiated competence through the phone. I felt more optimistic about Annalise than I had in a long while. I’d take that as a good omen. I needed one.
Over the next hour, I called for a copy of the police report and figured o
ut how to get it through Julie’s fax machine, then scanned and emailed it to the insurance company. Next, I ordered replacement appliances. Stefania would focus on repairs to the cabinets and counters and replacing the missing hardware. Between the police, the insurance company, and Stefania, I managed to divert myself from worrying about Nick for an hour.
I decided to call Rashidi to thank him.
“You welcome. I at Ms. Edmonds and she say hi.”
Jacoby’s grandmother. I really needed to remember what it was she had wanted me to do for her.
“Tell her hi back for me.”
My eyes landed on a picture of Nick and Teresa. He looked about nineteen or twenty. Teresa was awkward and full-faced, a tween. The camera had captured her mixed emotions about the fish she was holding. Pride and squeamishness. I wished I’d known her.
But that was it. Fish.
“Rashidi, can you run into the kitchen and pull something out of the freezer for me?”
“You a little far away to borrow something for supper,” he replied.
“No, I want you to look at the fish the police gave Ms. Edmonds. It was in the back of Jacoby’s SUV on the night he died. I want to know if there’s anything odd about it.”
“Hold on. Yep, I got it now. Only thing odd is you asking me. Otherwise, the fish I holding just a normal ole fish in a vacuum-sealed bag.”
“OK.”
“Except I don’t know what Jacoby doing with a sea bass. Tuna or wahoo, maybe some mahimahi’s what I’d expect.”
“But why is that strange?”
“Because sea bass not from around here. This from South America, most likely. That’s the closest place you find them.”
Goosebumps raced up my arms. Rashidi sure knew his fish. South American sea bass. And Jacoby had told me he was meeting an informant who had information on shady dealings at Fortuna’s, where the specialty was mango-infused Chilean sea bass. Could it be a coincidence? Or did Jacoby get the fish from his informant? I thought of my father-in-law, home late from work because of South American smugglers bringing drugs north in seafood.
Leaving Annalise (Katie & Annalise Book 2) Page 25
