Sunset in Old Savannah

by Mary Ellis

  Mrs. Tanaka greeted her at the door wearing a long evening suit and crystal-studded high heels. “Come in, Miss Webb. Let’s talk in the sunroom while my husband finishes dressing. I have no idea why men take longer than women to get ready.” Her diamond earrings sparkled as she walked. “First of all, did either of my children figure out what you were up to?” she asked, not waiting until they sat down.

  “I don’t think so. They believed my story about needing a job and found my sushi rolls at least adequate.”

  “They were more than adequate. I sampled one. It was delicious.” Mrs. Tanaka patted the sofa beside her. “Did Amy take you in her confidence? That girl makes friends easily, with little discretion as to the class of people they hail from.”

  Kaitlyn sat, wondering if she should be offended by the comment. “No, I don’t think either one of them trusted me, but it wasn’t hard to see something was going on after the restaurant closed.”

  “Did they close early?” she asked, frowning.

  “Yes. Jason shooed out the last dawdlers and turned off the sign by seven.” Kaitlyn noticed a painting on the wall from a Dutch master—one that would likely fetch seven figures if it was authentic.

  Mrs. Tanaka sniffed with indignation. “That explains why profits have been down, but not why so much food has disappeared.”

  “It wasn’t hard to figure out even without gaining their trust.”

  But before Kaitlyn could elaborate, Mrs. Tanaka interrupted. “My son is selling food out of his dorm room on campus, isn’t he? Or Amy has rented one of those tacky food trucks and is selling sushi rolls and lunch on the beach on Tybee. That girl always had a devious streak.”

  “My little darling?” asked Eric Tanaka as he entered the sunroom. “Nonsense. If anything, Amy is passing food out to bums who live under a bridge somewhere.” He shot the cuffs of his impeccably tailored tuxedo.

  Both Tanakas looked to her to confirm their suppositions.

  “Your husband is closer to the truth.” Kaitlyn focused on Mrs. Tanaka. “Last night they again encouraged me to leave early, so I drove around the block and parked where I wouldn’t be spotted. I came in behind the restaurant from the alley.”

  “Are you saying you walked down an alley alone at night?” Mrs. Tanaka looked aghast.

  “I did, but I’m licensed to carry a firearm, so I wasn’t exactly helpless. Anyway, I saw no one except an elderly couple heading for the back entrance of Tanaka’s Culinary Creations.”

  “There is no back entrance,” she snapped, annoyed. “People who want a patio table must enter through the front doors.”

  “I understand, Mrs. Tanaka, but I watched the couple sit down at one of the umbrella tables to eat.”

  Mr. Tanaka stroked his silvery goatee as though deep in thought, while Mrs. Tanaka turned the color of poppies. “My son and daughter are selling food off the books right on the premises? How could they cut our throats like this?”

  “Actually, they’re not selling anything. They’re giving away the day-old food from the coolers to the homeless. Word must have spread though their community, because no one showed up for a free meal except for people who really needed one. At least that’s what I saw last night.”

  “They’re giving away imported bluefin otoro and chutoro and hamachi yellowtail that costs us fifty-eight dollars per pound for free?” she squawked.

  “Maybe Amy and Jason see this as a better use for it than throwing it in the Dumpster.”

  Mrs. Tanaka’s nostrils flared. “It would never go into the Dumpster. I could have cooked up that raw food the next day. It would’ve been perfectly fine in a stir-fry or baked into casseroles for my family or my sister’s family.”

  “I’m only reporting what I saw. Your children aren’t financially benefiting from the food they are giving away.”

  “But we’ve lost a thousand dollars each month from their ridiculous soup kitchen.”

  “Actually, Amy cooked a big pot of soup right after you left, and Jason made ham and Swiss cheese sandwiches. They probably knew you had noticed all the exotic seafood disappearing, so they added less expensive items to the menu. Or maybe the clientele doesn’t care for eel and squid.”

  “I’m not amused, Miss Webb. Tanaka’s isn’t licensed to run a soup kitchen in the backyard. What if the Board of Health found out?”

  “It’s legal to serve food at a party, right? Maybe Jason and Amy invited those people as guests.”

  Suddenly, Mrs. Tanaka’s eyes bugged out. “What if one of those…homeless people has a food allergy? Tanaka’s could end up getting sued by a bum.” Her indignation grew by leaps and bounds.

  Mr. Tanaka lifted both palms to end the discussion. “All this conjecture is getting us nowhere. Right now, Iris and I have an event to attend. We appreciate your hard work, Miss Webb, but we’ll take it from here. We’ll pay your salary for the rest of the week, plus include a generous bonus when we pay Mr. Price’s fee. You did exactly what we wanted.”

  Kaitlyn scrambled to her feet. “I prefer you keep my wages and the bonus as reimbursement for the lost food. Although Amy and Jason shouldn’t have gone behind your backs, I believe their hearts are in the right place.” She headed toward the door as fast as her feet would move.

  “Hold up there, young lady,” Mr. Tanaka demanded. “I won’t have you believing my wife and I have no compassion. We’ll speak to our children and our lawyers to hammer out a solution that’s legal, ethical, and protects us against lawsuits.”

  Kaitlyn glanced at Mrs. Tanaka’s face. She was equally surprised by his suggestion. “You don’t owe me any explanation, sir. I just couldn’t help sticking in my two cents’ worth.”

  “I’ve never known a woman without an opinion, Miss Webb. You shall receive your full pay and bonus. What you do with it once in your possession is your business. Thank you again.” Mr. Tanaka bowed in her direction.

  Kaitlyn left their lovely home feeling on top of the world. She’d solved Nate’s case quickly and efficiently and felt confident harmony would be restored to the family. As she started back home at a leisurely stroll, she fully intended to enjoy the brisk autumn evening. But her serenity lasted less than ten minutes. Kaitlyn’s phone rang. She nearly didn’t answer when she didn’t recognize the number, but to her relief she heard the sweet voice of her mentor at the Florida bureau and best friend in the world.

  “Hi, Kate. It’s Vicky.”

  “What’s up, girl? Did you get another phone? I didn’t recognize this number.”

  “That’s because this phone is a burner. Probably a huge overreaction, but someone slipped up today at work…concerning you.”

  The blood chilled in her veins. “Slipped up how?”

  “A new trainee in payroll got a call from a Mr. Mardones in Human Resources. He wanted to know which office Kathryn Weller transferred to. Unfortunately, the trainee tracked down the information and told him the Savannah, Georgia, office.”

  “I take it there’s no Mr. Mardones in Human Resources.” Kaitlyn swallowed hard, her mouth dry.

  “Correct. I know it’s of little consolation, but the trainee has been reprimanded. One more mistake like that and she’s out.”

  “You’re right. It’s of very little consolation.” Kaitlyn picked up her pace, suddenly feeling vulnerable on the street.

  “At least the trainee hadn’t divulged your new name yet. Only the city where you’re working.”

  “That buys me some time, but I won’t be able to stop looking over my shoulder now. It’s a shame, because this beautiful old town has grown on me.”

  “I’m truly sorry.” Vicky exhaled noisily into the phone. “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word. Money, job references in another city. You name it.”

  “I like working for Price Investigations. I can’t…I won’t pick up and leave again. I can’t keep running from this.”

  “Think it over carefully. You can’t stand up to these men, Kate. They’ve had a lifetime of experience at nastine
ss.”

  “I’ll think about it, and thanks for the call. You still rock as far as best friends go.”

  Vicky’s laughter held no humor. “Now that I’ve introduced you to church, are you still attending?”

  “I tried the Baptist church near my apartment, but I won’t go back. Those folks sing at the top of their lungs and clap their hands. You know I don’t like loud displays. I don’t even like fireworks.”

  Her chuckle sounded genuine. “That sounds like my kind of church, but you should try a different one. You’re going to need more than a new employer and a friend in Pensacola to get through what’s coming.”

  Kaitlyn mumbled that she would and ended the call as tears filled her eyes. She couldn’t think straight, let alone figure out how to advance her spiritual rebirth. All she was capable of was getting back to her apartment without looking over her shoulder a dozen times. When she reached her front stoop, Beth was waiting for her.

  “Wow, you weren’t joking about living in Nowhereville,” Beth said, dabbing sweat from her face.

  “Did you walk here? Where’s Michael?”

  “I ran, jogged, walked, and then staggered, in that order. Michael’s on another errand. I’m here to talk to you. I’m hoping that when we finish, you’ll drive me back to my hotel.”

  “Wanna come in or talk out here?” Kaitlyn asked, mildly ashamed of her shabby furnishings. “How about a bottle of water?”

  Beth smiled up at her. “Out here is good, and water would be great.”

  Kaitlyn went inside and came back out a minute later carrying two bottles of water. She sat down, sighed, and said, “I have a feeling I know why you’re here.”

  Beth drank deeply. “When you heard Michael was a forensic accountant, you knew he would check everything you put down on your résumé.”

  Nodding, she focused on a woman feeding pigeons across the street. “Yep. I had a feeling it was only a matter of time, but I really like working with you. So I couldn’t pull the plug and run.”

  “What are you running from? We know it’s not the law. There are no arrest warrants out for Kaitlyn Webb. But there’s not much of anything for that name before a couple of years ago.”

  Kaitlyn turned to face her. “I’ve done nothing illegal, I promise. And I really did work for the Florida Bureau of Worker’s Compensation. It’s my personal life that’s messed up. So I changed my name, and my boss helped me find a new job. I’m trying to make a fresh start.”

  “If it were my call, I’d say we were fine and dandy. I hate nosy people.” Beth took another drink. “But I’m not the boss. Nate has a right to know who you really are. Trust me. He’s a stand-up guy. If there’s any way he can help you, he will. We all will after you tell us the truth.”

  Kaitlyn smiled sadly. “The truth isn’t very enlightening. When I was eight years old, I accidentally witnessed a crime. It was a robbery gone bad, and several people lost their lives. My brother, Liam, was sentenced to twenty-five years to life for his part in their deaths. Unfortunately, his accomplices went free because he refused to name them.”

  “I’m guessing he received a stiffer sentence because of his loyalty.”

  “Yes, but it wasn’t due to misplaced loyalty. My brother felt he had no choice. His accomplices were part of an organized crime syndicate. Our parents had recently died. They’d left little to provide security for me. My brother feared if he fingered them, they would retaliate against my aunt and uncle and me.”

  “You actually witnessed your brother committing a crime?”

  “According to the police report, yes, but whatever I saw I blocked out long ago. I’m not protecting any murderous thugs. My shrink called these protective repressed memories.”

  “And the bad guys want to make sure they stay repressed.”

  Kaitlyn nodded. “I’m surprised they didn’t just kill me. Every now and then they let me know they are still watching. For their previous reminder, they kidnapped my little dog. Peaches was almost dead from dehydration when they finally told me where to find her.”

  Beth crunched the plastic bottle in her hand. “They can’t be allowed to get away with intimidation. We live in a—”

  “No, Beth. I appreciate your concern, but this is my business. My aunt, uncle, and cousins still live in Pensacola. Any one of them could become their next target. Funny thing is, I couldn’t put them behind bars if I wanted to. I simply can’t remember what happened that night.” Kaitlyn slapped her palms on her thighs.

  “There are doctors who—”

  “No. I can live with getting fired, but I can’t live with my relatives in jeopardy.”

  “I will tell Michael and Nate but no one else. The decision will be Nate’s, but he’ll hear my opinion on the matter.” Beth locked gazes with her. “Call me if you ever decide to go after these thugs with guns blazing. I’m a crack shot. I never miss.”

  Kaitlyn looked away, not wanting Beth to see how her offer had touched a chord. “I’ll keep it in mind. Tell Michael to look into Kathryn and Liam Weller of Pensacola for my background, but please keep that info private. Now let’s get you back before your handsome boyfriend starts to worry.”

  “Actually, I changed my mind. Could I please borrow your car for a few hours? I still have one more errand to run. I want to see if a certain someone still wants to provide a flimsy alibi. I’ll replace any gas I use.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Kaitlyn dropped the keys into Beth’s palm and handed her the second bottle of water.

  “Thanks, and like I said, don’t lose hope. As bosses go, Nate Price is one of the best.”

  Kaitlyn waved as Beth drove away. They barely knew each other, yet Beth had volunteered to enter a gun battle with her.

  What are the chances of getting a second amazing boss like Vicky Stephens? Nobody is that lucky.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Michael was having a hard time being a patient man. He didn’t mind waiting for Beth to meet him for breakfast or pick something off a menu or even return his phone calls, but waiting in an alley for Bonnie to take her break was driving him crazy. What if she finally decided to give up smoking and no longer needed to walk down three storefronts to the designated zone? He would have waited in the cool, damp air for nothing.

  Turning up the collar on his trench coat, Michael shifted his position on the fire escape steps, trying to get circulation back in his legs. Just about the time he considered throwing in the towel, Bonnie rounded the cardboard compactor and pulled out her pack. She lit up her first cigarette even before he could stretch the kinks from his spine. He quietly approached his target.

  “How’s it goin’, Bonnie?” he asked, opting for a casual approach.

  She peered through heavily made-up lashes. “Do I know you?”

  Michael closed the distance in a few strides. “Let’s just say we have a mutual friend.”

  Bonnie let her gaze travel from his Italian loafers up to his recently cut hair. “I doubt that. I don’t have any friends who dress like you.” She dragged so hard on the cigarette, Michael could almost see minutes being crossed off her life.

  “How about Mrs. Evelyn Doyle? We have her in common.”

  “What’s she to you? You her son or something?”

  “Actually, Mr. and Mrs. Doyle’s only son was killed in Afghanistan. I’m surprised Lamar never mentioned that to you.”

  His verbal arrow hit its mark. Bonnie cringed, visibly shrinking in her Cool Beans uniform. “We had other things to talk about.”

  “Yeah, I bet you did.” Michael moved close enough to tower over the girl. “I work for Mrs. Doyle. And what I want to know is how come you turned down her generous offer of twenty thousand bucks but had no trouble taking it from Mr. Doyle two days later? Like most married couples, they shared the same bank account.”

  Bonnie’s face looked as if it might burst into flames. “I don’t know where you got your information from, but I didn’t take twenty K from either one of them.” Stretching up on tiptoes, she jabb
ed a finger in his face. “Yeah, he offered it on Saturday to make his wife happy. She was pressuring him to break up with me. It wasn’t Lamar’s idea. I told him I didn’t want any money. I loved him, and I was willing to wait for them to get divorced.” She dug into her pocket for her cigarettes.

  “Hadn’t you noticed the age difference between you two? Was Lamar some kind of father figure to you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I had a daddy, and he was nothing like Lamar. Lamar treated me with respect. I planned to work my butt off being a good wife.” Bonnie blew a stream of blue smoke in his face.

  Michael could feel his own days being crossed off. “If all you wanted was to get married, why did you take the money?”

  “You’re crazy! I turned down that stupid check from his wife. I slapped Lamar’s face and told him he would never be happy until he stood up to Evelyn.” She exhaled again in his direction.

  Michael yanked the cigarette from her lips and tossed it into the gutter. “Then what happened?”

  “I don’t know!” she snapped. “I was upset. I walked out of that fancy apartment and told Lamar not to call until he came to his senses. Then his wife killed him before he could think matters through.”

  “And the twenty K in cash?”

  “Is something wrong with your hearing, or are you just plain stupid?” Bonnie shouted, heedless of the attention they were attracting in the alley.

  “Lamar left the envelope of money on the kitchen table.” Michael kept his voice down. “You must have found it when you came home from your tantrum.”

  Bonnie shook her head as if waking from a nightmare. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I need to get back to work.” She staggered down the alley as though drunk.

  “Wait, Bonnie.” Michael tried to follow her.

  “No!” she screamed, putting up a hand. “I don’t know what happened to that lady’s money, and I’m done talking to you. Either stay away from me or I’m calling the cops.”

  At the end of the street, Beth pulled into a parking space and drank her entire second bottle of water. Her head was swimming, partly from fatigue but mostly from Kaitlyn’s bombshell. Or should I say Kathryn’s bombshell? The woman is on the run from Florida mobsters because she witnessed a crime she can’t even remember? And her sole sibling is doing twenty-five to life for murder? Good grief. Michael said Beth had a made-for-television imagination, but even she couldn’t have guessed anything like this.