I went inside the house and discovered a fully stocked fridge. There were even a couple of steaks we could cook on the grill. I decided to make myself a nice salad; I was getting hungry, and Rick might not be here for awhile.
I decided to call him. I was feeling a little domestic. I could have dinner waiting for him, unless he wanted us to make dinner together. I picked up the phone.
Nothing.
It was a land line, so I clicked the receiver a few times, because well, again, that’s what they do on TV and in the movies. Then I tried it again.
More nothing.
I was regretting that I never got around to getting a cell phone.
I was sure there was no reason to worry. Rick’s friend probably had stocked the fridge for him and really only used the place on weekends. That’s what most people did on the Key.
I took my salad out to the balcony and watched the sunset. Very romantic.
Time wasn’t passing quickly enough. I went upstairs to get ready for when Rick showed up. Rick could possibly be here with the next hour. I had to do a test run in my sexy wear. I did my hair, put on my make-up, and tried on my babydoll. I wanted to make sure that I was as happy with it now as I’d been in the store. If not, my bag of condoms would be wasted.
Yup. I was pleased. In fact, with my hair just so, and my lips shining with “pink-a-tini” plumping lipgloss, I looked pretty good.
I heard the door close on the first floor. I’d been so distracted by my own reflection that I hadn’t heard Rick’s car pull up.
This wasn’t good. I didn’t want him to see me yet! To meet him at the door in this outfit would be way too Peyton. Although honestly, she’d have gone with the red see-through thing.
“Hold on, Rick. I’ll be right down! I’m changing clothes. Give me a minute.” I screamed as I ran around the room. Where had I put my jeans?
I could hear him coming up the stairs.
“Rick, wait a second. I’m not decent.”
“Trust me, you’re decent enough.”
It wasn’t Rick.
I spun around, still in my nightie and granny panties. Montgomery Davis was standing in the doorway, smiling.
“Emily, that’s a cute little outfit. You look lovely.”
“Mr. Davis.” What was he doing here?
“Are you enjoying the place? I wanted to make sure that you had a good time before I popped in.”
Mr. Kaz was Rick’s friend? I hadn’t expected that. What kind of social circles did Rick run in? Unless…
Oh. My. God.
“Too bad, Emily. You should have had the steak, seeing how it was your last meal.”
I’d been so sure Brant was the killer, him or Damon. But now I had that gut feeling detectives talk about.
“When I saw you at The Alibi, I thought you were just one of Jim’s girls. But then I saw you at the funeral and the wake, and then you showed up at my door. That’s when I figured out what you were doing. You might not be very smart, but you are persistent. I’ll give you that.”
I was scared. He was a lot bigger than me, and he was talking about last meals. I still felt I should speak up for myself though, me and my Drewing ability. “It’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this.”
“I think it’s safe to say there won’t be a second time.” He looked like the big bad wolf, and I was feeling like a little piggy.
“You were the one at the dock?”
“Kicking me in the nuts? Emily, you don’t play fair.” He gave me a half smile, half sneer. “From the moment you left my office, I’ve had my eye on you. I’ve been following you. You never even saw me at Applebee’s, did you?”
No, I didn’t. I had been blinded by Rick’s hotness and a steak Caesar salad.
“I’ve been hoping that you and I would get a little alone time together. Your boyfriend provided us with that. I knew, if I followed you, eventually we’d get some alone time.” He chuckled. “Very romantic, don’t you think? It’s such a peaceful place to die.”
“You’re really going to kill me?” My voice was cracking. This wasn’t happening.
“Part of this is your fault. You fought back at the docks, and then you dodged the car. Now things are going to be a little tougher for you.”
“What are you going to do?” My heart was about to fly from my chest and out of my mouth. I was hoping that would distract him and I’d be able to get past him. I had to get the hell out of there.
“I’m taking you for a ride. Then you’re going for a little swim, just like Jim.” He stated it so matter-of-factly.
I needed to calm down. To try to buy a little time. “I don’t get why you did it.”
“Jim stole my wife. Why do you think I did it?”
“But you had a pre-nup.”
“I’m a rich man. Of course I had to protect my interests. I loved her though; Kaz was my life. I gave her everything she could want, and she betrayed me. She wasn’t smart; she could easily be led astray. Jim knew that. He had a wife of his own, plus a few whores. He didn’t need my wife, but he took her anyway, to prove something to me. But I got the last laugh.”
“So you met him that night. You got him on your boat, and you dumped him in the bay.”
“Exactly. It was easy, actually. We met for a drink, to let bygones be bygones. He drank too much. I added a special ingredient to his glass, and from then on he was pretty easy to control.”
He was telling me everything. At least I’d solved the case.
“I felt bad for his wife though. He had money on him, and I left it for Rachel-Ann at the store. It was the least I could do for his widow.” He sighed. “I knew he was messing around with Kaz long before Rachel-Ann sent me that video. I was keeping tabs on them. I took photos of them together and sent them to her little store, but that puppy dog of hers got to them before she did.”
That explained the photos on the boat. He had tried to set up Brant.
“He was a bad man, Emily. He hung out with criminals. He was embezzling from his company, and he took the one thing I loved. I don’t regret killing him.”
I cleared my heart out of my throat. “He wasn’t embezzling. That was his assistant. I got proof of that. He was just friends with Sonny Damone; they weren’t in business together.”
“Oh, well, my mistake. He still deserved killing though.” He smiled.
I slowly reached behind me until my hand found the bag of condoms. Not my weapon of choice, but it wasn’t like I could pick up my shoe. I played softball when I was a kid. I could hit him, and maybe, just maybe, somehow I could get past him and down the stairs. If I could get past him, I knew I could make it to my car, except the keys were in my jeans. Hell, I was just going to have to run down the beach. Nothing is more motivating than a crazed murderer making it clear you’re his next victim.
“I really need to thank your boyfriend. He’s the one that really gave me this opportunity. I was worried that you’d see me. I was only a few seats away, but you only have eyes for him. For what it’s worth, Emily, the boy really cares about you. I wish I could give you a happy ending, but it would cost me mine.”
Kaz was the one that couldn’t keep her pants on. Why was I paying the price?
Hoping for a miracle, I flung my magic bag of condoms at him. I’d taken a handful of condoms out, aimed them right for his face, and took off running. Condoms were raining down and they did have an effect. He was distracted. I almost got away.
Almost.
He caught me right as I was stepping out the door.
We both heard the car door slam. I started to scream. His hand clamped down on my mouth, squeezing it hard. “Don’t say a word.”
He pulled a gun from his pocket, and we both waited in silence. I could hear something pounding in my ears, but I wasn’t sure if it was my heart or his.
The door opened, and I heard Rick call out. “Emily?”
I tried to turn my head away from Montgomery’s palm and scream out, to warn Rick that Davis was here and
had a gun. But I didn’t get the words out before Rick turned the corner and saw us. “Emily.”
Montgomery hissed in my ear, “Look at this. He’s come to rescue you. Now you’re both going to die.” His hand was still over my mouth.
He looked down at Rick. “Put your hands up or I kill her right now.”
Rick didn’t move. He was a cop. Didn’t he have a secret gun tucked in his sock that he could use?
Rick sounded completely calm. “Let her go.”
“Hands in the air, or I kill the bitch,” Montgomery screamed.
Bitch?
Rick started to lower his hands. “No one has to get hurt here. Let her go. You and I can talk this out. She’s innocent.”
True enough, but I’d heard his confession. He wasn’t going to show me any mercy.
Rick made a quick move. Montgomery aimed his gun and fired.
Rick collapsed to the floor.
Davis was panting and sweaty, and his breath was hot. “Look what you made me do, Emily.”
He pulled me out to the entrance way, our feet crunching on condoms. “It’s time to go.”
I started to struggle. There was no way I was letting this happen. Rick was still breathing, and I intended to get both of us out of here. I did the only thing I knew how to do. I twisted and turned, pulling Davis along until I was on the edge of the top step. Then I bit down on his hand as hard as I could. He started to scream, and I tasted something salty. I assumed it was blood. I grabbed him, leaned back, and sent us both tumbling down the flight of stairs. It was about time I used my weight for something good. I was going down, but Mongomery Davis was going with me.
It felt like every bone in my body was breaking. I could feel lumps and bruises forming as I hit each step. I collided with the bottom of the stairs face first. If I hadn’t been Frankenface before, I would be now. But this was my one chance, and I wasn’t wasting it. I grabbed Montgomery’s wrist, the one still holding the gun, smashed it as hard as I could against the stairs, and took the gun away from him. I stood between him and Rick and held the gun on him.
“Don’t move, or I’ll blow your head off.”
Davis looked at me, and I couldn’t help but smile when he spit out one of his teeth. He even started to cry.
“That’s right. Keep spittin’ blood, turkey.”
Rick moaned, “Turkey?”
“I wasn’t talking to you. You’re not a turkey. I was talking to him. Where’s your cell phone? We should call the police.”
Rick gasped for air. “Good idea. My pocket.”
I kept the gun trained on Davis while I got Rick’s cell phone. “He killed Jim Alexander.”
Rick winced. “I figured that out when he shot me.”
“Are you okay?” I asked. I never took my eyes off of Montgomery.
“No.” He raised his voice. “He shot me!”
If Rick could scream, he was going to be okay.
“He confessed everything. You know how in the movies when the killer explains everything they did? He really did that! I thought they just made those things up.”
“That’s great, Emily.” Rick groaned.
“Damn it! I should have found a way to get to my purse and turn on my recorder. Next time, I’ll remember that.”
“Next time?” Rick asked faintly.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Then she says, ‘Keep spittin’ blood, turkey.’ It was like one of those bad seventies movies.” Rick was telling the story again.
Craig and Dennis both roared with laughter, like they always did when he got to this part. I think it was because I called him a turkey. Craig had even created a new sandwich called the Jive Turkey as a tribute.
“I meant it, too,” I said. It was no use. No one ever paid any attention to me when it came to this part of the story.
“So there she is, in this sexy little outfit, holding that gun on him, daring him to move. If I hadn’t thought I was bleeding to death, it would’ve been hot.”
I stood up from the table, and he ran his hand up my leg. “Baby, really, it was hot. You have to trust me on this one. Guys like girls with guns, as long as we see a little skin.”
“I have customers to wait on.”
I was waitressing at Le Bel Age. A lot had happened since I cracked the Alexander case.
The cops and an ambulance showed up pretty quickly that evening. Rick’s hospital visit was a little more extended than mine. Luckily, Montgomery Davis was a bad shot. Rick took a bullet to the shoulder. After surgery, he was healing nicely.
I was banged, bruised, and had a cracked rib that was still healing, and I continued to have Frankenface for a week or two afterward. It was great for getting sympathy and flowers. Tony Gardino sent me a gorgeous bouquet, something I kept from Rick. I think it would have set back his recovery. I liked having a gangster on my side.
I wrote my story, but not for the St. Petersburg Times. I declined their offer and sold it to the Tampa Bay Tattler. The Tattler is the weekly alternative paper and website. It doesn’t have the reputation of the Times, but they offered me a part-time job. I have my own little weekly column now. I’m now Miss Quoted.
It was my second column that got me the attention I wanted. I wrote a little piece about Dani, although names were changed to protect the not-so-innocent. Mike Girard called and apologized about the plagiarism incident. He offered me my old job back and spoke a little about “grooming” talent. When he approached the topic of Dani, he made it clear that her head was on the chopping block. I laughed and told him there were no hard feelings. By the time we got off the phone, I had convinced him that firing her wasn’t the way to go.
At the Tattler, I got sent out on a few assignments, but mostly I write “slice of life” pieces. I’ve actually developed a readership, and sometimes I get fan mail. It’s a great place to work and learn. I can’t imagine a better position for me to be in right now.
I gave up being a phone kitten. Seriously, after being involved with the murder of a client, who could blame me? Any other call would be boring.
With a little help from Dennis, Craig got financed and bought the building. He offered me a job, and in a few weeks, I’ll be moving into my new apartment on the third floor. I’m getting prime space for a cheap price in exchange for closing the Cabaret on the weekends. I’ll have new neighbors, too; I can’t wait. Part of me hopes one of them is crotchety and mean. There could be a lot of “slice of life” with a cranky neighbor.
Montgomery Davis took a plea and will be spending the rest of his life in a Florida prison facility. I gave Rick the jump drive that I had stolen from Damon, who’s serving time too.
I did actually do that story on Rachel-Ann for the Tattler, and she told me that she got a great response. She dumped Brant. I don’t know if that was a good thing for him, but she sure seemed happier.
And then there’s Rick. He made me promise him that, the next time I was investigating the death of one of my customers, I'd fill him in on the details. We’re taking things slow. Slower than either of us wants. All bedroom activities have been benched until he gets the doctor’s approval.
After putting in my customer’s order, I went back to Rick. “You never get tired of the whole blow-your-head-off thing, do you?”
“It’s the turkey part. Seriously, the only way it would have been better was if you would have said ‘jive turkey.’ I’m just glad I got there early.”
“I had the situation under control.”
“You and your big bag of condoms. Exactly what were you planning for us do? You really seemed to be prepared for something.”
He pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket and slid it across the table.
I opened it like the greedy girl I am. Inside was a little bracelet with two little charms: a dog and an ice cream cone. The little ice cream cone was decorated with pink gem chips.
“It’s from Dizz and me. I thought we should commemorate our first date. We got ice cream.”
“I remember.” I
leaned across the table and kissed him. “I could never forget that.”
I admired my bracelet for a moment, and then an idea hit me like lightning. “Rick, that night when I got the gun away from Montgomery, did you see anything else? When I rolled down the stairs?”
He scooted his chair closer to me, looked around, and whispered. “Are you asking me if I saw your granny panties?”
My body temperature shot up, my skin went hot, and I was pretty sure my brain was boiling. I’d be dead in seconds. The coroner would write “humiliation” on my death certificate.
“I can’t wait to see them again.”
His lips came down on mine, and I got hot again, but in a good way. I might have given up life as a phone kitten, but sex kitten could be worth pursuing.
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Acknowledgements
One of the most exciting thing about this process was getting an opportunity to thank all the people that helped me along the way… only I don't think that's possible, there are so many—so don't be surprised if a few of you out there get a frantic phone call at 3 a.m. telling you what you mean to me—it won't be drunk dialing!
First and foremost, a big THANK YOU to Julie Smith. The words may be mine, but without your guidance, they would have never been written. I've been blessed with an amazing mentor; I'll never forget it. Thanks for the patience, the faith and the occasional butt kicking that I richly deserved. I know how lucky I am.
Mom and Dad, I know you don't always "get" me, but you always manage to love me. I know that— and I love you forever too.
Freddie and Michael Eubanks, for making love, laughter, advice and Duckman available to me—for not even a dollar.
Samantha Puckett, who made me write my first story at the St Pete Times. It was a small piece—but it sure meant the world to me. Thanks for thinking I could do it.
Dr. Kenneth Holditch, I learn from you every day. Thank you for allowing Dash and me not just into your home but into your life. I cherish the time we spend together.
Phone Kitten: A Cozy, Romantic, and Highly Humorous Mystery Page 25
