Key Lime Pie

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Key Lime Pie Page 13

by Josi S. Kilpack


  Sadie leaned forward and could just make out the Avis sticker. “That’s him,” she said, impressed. “Well done.”

  Monty shrugged, but he also smiled in the rearview mirror. “I know Miami,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. “You wan’ me to stay ’ere or get us closa?”

  “Here is good,” Sadie said, confident that if they somehow lost Eric, Monty would have no problem finding him again.

  “What be on fifty-firs’ he be want’n to fine?”

  “A boat shop, I guess,” Sadie said, thinking back to the business card Eric had shown her. “Motorways Powerboat.”

  Monty lifted his eyebrows and looked at her quickly in the mirror again. “What he be want’n with Motoway?”

  Sadie shrugged, but honed in on Monty’s interest. “I don’t know. Do you know anything about the company?”

  “Only dat dey be ba’ business,” Monty said with a nod. “Spected de owner done be selling ’is boats to Cuba ’gain.”

  “Again?” Sadie asked.

  “Years ago FBI done talked to ’im ’bout rumors of ’im sellin’ to Castro’s men. Din’t get proven, a’course, but some say he be back to work. Soon as people start a’talkin’, though, ’e shuts down ’is shop.”

  “Shuts it down?” Sadie said. “So Motorways Powerboat isn’t operating?”

  “Not ’less he done open las’ week,” Monty said.

  So, Eric wasn’t only meeting an anonymous caller, he was meeting an anonymous caller at an abandoned business whose owner had possible ties to a communist regime. And he didn’t think the police needed to be involved?

  She looked up as the light changed and the cars started moving. Eric’s car was in the lane to the left, and although there were several cars between them, she could see the outline of his head, leaning like he did against the driver’s side door. She wondered if he was as nervous as she was.

  “Dat be your fella?” Monty asked.

  Sadie’s eyes jumped back to the mirror, caught off guard. “Oh, uh, no,” she said, managing a little chuckle despite the flush rising in her cheeks. “Just a friend.”

  Monty smiled again, embarrassing Sadie even more. “Sho’, sho’,” he said with a knowing nod. “Whe’ you from, lady?”

  Sadie was glad for the change of subject. “Colorado.”

  “Ooo, long way from ’ere.”

  Sadie nodded and thought to herself, In more ways than one.

  Ahead of them Eric turned on his car’s left blinker and pulled into the turning lane. Monty smoothly cut off another driver, ignored the ensuing honk, and moved in behind Eric. There were no cars between them now so Sadie sank down in the backseat, counting on Eric being preoccupied enough with the upcoming meeting that he wouldn’t be checking out the passengers of a taxi.

  The wait at the light seemed interminable, but finally Eric moved forward and made the turn. Another car made a right-hand turn before Monty could turn left. Sadie was relieved to have a car between them again. She kept waiting for Eric to turn in to a parking lot of one of the many businesses lined up on both sides of the road; 51st Street seemed to be part of a dedicated business district, though there were apartment buildings and condos sprinkled throughout the neighborhood as well.

  Eric kept going. And going. And going. The car between them turned down another street, so Monty kept his distance and Sadie kept her head down. If only she’d brought a hat. The silhouette of her hair, kinda curled, kinda spiked, but always unique and rather . . . big, would give her away should Eric take the time to study the taxi’s interior.

  It seemed they drove a few miles, stopping at a light every other block, before the buildings became more spread out, with fences around the paved portions of industrial space. They passed a used car lot, then an auto-body shop, what looked like a vitamin company, and then, finally, Eric turned on his right blinker.

  Sadie held on to the edges of both front seats, leaning forward while Monty slowed the car so as not to get too close to Eric before he completed the turn. A sign mounted on the fence read Motorway Powerboats, Inc., using many of the same colors and graphics as the business card had.

  “Drive past it,” Sadie said, then, remembering her manners added, “please.” As they passed by, she craned her neck to watch Eric as long as possible. He’d pulled into a fenced lot with an open rolling gate, but instead of parking in the front lot—which was empty—he headed down a driveway that ran along the right side of the building. Then he turned left, moving out of sight. She’d have to follow him on foot. Wonderful.

  Glancing around, Sadie spotted a cabinet shop across the street. The parking lot wasn’t so full that she thought Monty would get in trouble for parking there—she knew small businesses could get persnickety with their parking sometimes—but the lot faced Motorway. It looked right down the driveway, in fact.

  “Can you wait in there?” Sadie asked, pointing to the lot.

  “Sho’, sho’,” Monty said. “De meter got to keep running, though, even if de motor don’t.”

  “I understand,” Sadie said, digging in her purse as he turned into the lot and maneuvered the car so that it was facing Motorway. She dug out a twenty, even though the fare meter said she owed twenty-two, and handed it over the seat as he shifted into park. She worried that if she gave him too much, he’d take off and desert her, yet she had to give him enough now for him to know she was good for it, too. “I’ll pay the rest when I get back,” she said.

  For the first time, concern entered Monty’s expression. “Whacha goin’ ta do?”

  “Just . . . look around,” Sadie said. “I don’t think I’ll be too long.”

  “Isn’t safe for ladies ta go ’round on deir own like dat,” Monty said, nodding toward the buildings around them. Most of them were fenced, and no one was walking up and down the sidewalks here. “S’pose I go wit you?”

  “Uh,” Sadie said, not sure what she thought about that. On the one hand, having a big strong bodyguard would provide a nice sense of security, and yet she still didn’t know what she was getting into, therefore she was hesitant to involve anyone else. Not to mention that she feared Monty wouldn’t blend very well. Sadie, on the other hand, knew how to blend into tight spaces and cramped situations. She finally shook her head. “Thank you for the offer. You’re very kind, but I’ll be okay. I just want a peek is all.” She put her hand on the door release and pushed it open.

  Monty wasn’t pleased, but suddenly reached into a pouch strapped to his visor and pulled out a slightly bent business card. He handed it to her with a nod. “You need me, you call me, okay?”

  Sadie took the card and smiled her thanks as she got out of the car and stuffed the card in her back pocket. She considered leaving her purse in the car, but no matter how chivalrous Monty seemed, she was not an idiot. Or at least not that big of one.

  She shut the door and tried to ignore her racing heart as she waited for a few cars to pass before darting across the street. She eyed the windows of the two-story metal building Eric had driven behind and hoped no one was watching her. The windows had a reflective tint on them, so she couldn’t see in. When she reached the side of the building, she placed her back against the wall and tried to repeat some positive affirmations to boost her confidence.

  “You’re doing great,” she told herself. “What would Eric do without you, anyway?” Sadie continued whispering as she moved down the building. “Like it or not, he’s better off with you looking out for him. One day I’m sure he’ll realize it and find a way to thank you.”

  When she was only ten feet from the far side of the building, she slowed down and stopped talking to herself, listening for other voices instead. All she could hear was the rush of traffic coming from 51st Street behind her as well as whatever street was on the next block over—52nd probably. Once she reached the corner, she squatted down so she wouldn’t be at eye level with anyone else, and gingerly poked her head around the edge of the building.

  Eric’s car was there, along with a
sporty red car parked close to the building itself. Eric was nowhere to be seen. Has he gone inside? she wondered as she scanned the back lot. Surely he wasn’t dumb enough to go into a private building with a suspicious stranger. But there was no one in the yard. Instead, it was full of stuff she thought surely made sense to people who knew boats. There was metal stuff, funny-shaped stuff, and bright plastic-looking sheets of stuff. There was also a line of boat trailers against the far side of the fence, which, she realized, was about ten feet tall with loops of razor wire along the top. The way she’d come in seemed to be the only way back out, which meant she would need to keep herself within view of the exit at all times.

  Once assured no one was in the yard, she turned the corner. Monty wouldn’t be able to see her from here on out, and although she was glad she hadn’t asked him to come with her, she was equally glad to know he was there. Still pressed against the edge of the building—which was rather warm, thanks to all the Florida sunshine it had been soaking up all day—Sadie moved toward the double doors set smack dab in the middle of the back wall. The glass doors aligned almost perfectly with the trunk of the red sports car.

  Sadie crouched down as she approached the double doors and held her purse close to her chest so it wouldn’t bang against anything. When she reached the edge of the doors, she poked her head slowly forward, allowing her a look inside. She saw a carpeted entryway but, like the yard, the lobby, with its fake plants and empty reception desk, was unoccupied. Fluorescent lighting brightened the interior even though the sunlight coming through the glass doors seemed to provide more than enough light. Light or not, however, Eric was nowhere in sight.

  “Oh biscuits,” Sadie said under her breath, leaning forward even farther to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. But her first assessment had been the right one. No one was there. Not in the entryway, at least. It took a few seconds before she dared check the door to see if it was unlocked. When it moved outward, she immediately let it go, overcome with the panic of what could happen to her inside this building. It was one thing to prowl around the outside of a building, but to go inside was something else entirely. Especially a building owned by a man suspected of selling boats to communists.

  Sadie liked to think she was brave, but going inside was beyond her. Whether that made her a coward or a genius, she wasn’t sure, but she liked the sound of genius better. Her hesitation didn’t change the fact that if Eric was in there, and if she was trying to figure out what was going on, then staying out here simply meant she’d wasted her time. For the moment, however, wasting time still seemed a better option than cornering herself.

  Her eyes were drawn to the sports car. The license plate was from Texas. She looked quickly at the doors of the building to make sure the coast was still clear on the inside, and then ran past them, immediately pressing herself against the wall of the building on the other side of the doors, holding her breath to better hear if someone was coming. After ten seconds she let out the breath and assured herself she’d made it. She glanced cautiously at the door, then walked to the driver’s side window of the car, cupping her hands around her eyes so she could see through the tinted glass.

  There was a pair of sunglasses on the dashboard and an iPod on the passenger seat, a cord stretching between it and the CD player. What looked like a jacket or sweater was crumpled on the driver’s seat and in the middle console between the seats was a Diet Coke bottle—half full—in one of the drink holders, a pile of change in the other one. It was obviously not a rental car.

  A GPS unit, similar to the one Sadie had bought at Walmart, was plugged into the cigarette lighter, making Sadie wonder if the driver of the car was from out of town. Someone had directed Eric and the police to certain locations near the body by using GPS coordinates. In Sadie’s mind that confirmed the car owner’s identity—definitely the tipster. She felt better knowing that, by all appearances, Eric was contacting and dealing with only one man. But the man was still a criminal, and Sadie would be wise to remember that.

  After scanning the front seat, she moved to the back window. There were some papers folded up on the backseat. The color, light yellow, set them off from the black leather upholstery, but after squinting in an attempt to see what they were, she realized the tinted windows made them impossible to read. She scanned the interior of the car a little more, looking for anything that would lead her to say, “Aha, I found a clue!” But there didn’t seem to be any clues at all, and within a minute, she was out of things to do.

  Her eyes went back to the glass doors. Eric had been in there for at least seven or eight minutes. What were they talking about? Maybe she wouldn’t have to sneak around if she went inside. She could simply call out for someone and ask to use their restroom or something as a ploy to explain her presence. But the idea was not a pleasant one. What if Eric gave away that they knew each other? What if the guy Eric was meeting was armed? He was already an extortionist; who’s to say he wouldn’t also shoot first and ask questions later?

  She looked back at the car, wishing she could get inside it. If nothing else, there might be locations stored in the GPS unit that would tell her where the tipster had come from or where he was going later. And then maybe she could check his glove box to see if there was anything in there. The trunk! She could pop the trunk. Maybe he had luggage that would tell her more about him. On an impulse she reached for the handle, just in case the tipster hadn’t locked his door. Her fingertips were wrapped around the handle when she realized she was acting too fast, and she pulled her hand back.

  This was Miami, and this man had a lot to hide. He probably had a car alarm. She peered into the car, scanning the dashboard for a light that would indicate the car was armed. She didn’t see anything, so she scanned the windows, looking for a decal that indicated an alarm system. She didn’t see one of those either and turned her attention back to the car. She couldn’t see a lock being up or down on the door and felt her eyes drawn back to those papers on the backseat. Her thoughts once again turned to the trunk and what it could be holding. Wouldn’t it be ridiculous if it turned out that the car held the answers to any number of her questions and she hadn’t even tried?

  She decided it absolutely would be ridiculous. Things had fallen into place so far. She reached for the handle again, and then held her breath in anticipation, truly believing that the chances were good the car was unlocked.

  The ear-splitting sound of sirens caused Sadie to jump at least a foot in the air. When her feet returned to the ground, she couldn’t breathe, but realized the alarm that had just taken five years off her life was coming from the car. Looking around wildly, the blood pumping loudly in her ears, she looked for somewhere to hide. She didn’t dare pass the glass doors for fear that the owner of the car was, right now, on his way outside.

  The nearest pile of metal stuff caught her attention, and she made a run for it, crouching low to the ground and muttering, “Oh please, oh please, oh please,” under her breath as she ran. She ducked behind the pile and put her hand over her mouth in case the fear got the better of her and she screamed. With her hand holding her purse, she attempted to cover her left ear as best she could; even with fifteen yards between her and the car, the alarm was excruciating.

  No sooner had she wondered how long it would go on, when the sound stopped. Sadie’s ears continued ringing even as she made out the sound of the glass door opening. She wasn’t surprised someone had come, but she had really, really hoped they wouldn’t. Her entire body froze, and she held her breath in case her breathing was as loud to him as it was to her. She sounded like Darth Vader, and her ears were ringing like Christmas bells.

  “You said you came alone,” an unfamiliar voice said, sounding displeased. The tipster? The ringing made it hard to hear, but Sadie was only fifteen yards away. She leaned toward the voices. Her heart continued to race.

  “I did come alone,” replied a voice Sadie definitely knew. Eric. Relief washed over her knowing he was safe, and she told herself she
had accomplished what she wanted to accomplish, though she hadn’t wanted to do it quite like this. “It’s just me,” Eric said. “A bird probably landed on your car or something.”

  Good save, Eric, Sadie thought, wondering if she’d ever be able to tell him that to his face. To do so would mean telling him she was the one who had set off the alarm, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know that.

  There was silence, and she waited, sure they’d go back inside and finish their discussion now that Eric had given a plausible excuse for the alarm being set off. Then she would sneak out past the doors and down the alleyway where Monty would whisk her back to the gas station. It was a good plan. A really good plan. But moments later she heard what sounded like a gut punch and a groaning exhale. A scuffle followed, ending with a metallic thud that Sadie imagined was the sound of someone being pushed up against the building. Her heart sank. It didn’t seem likely that Eric would be the one to take a swing at the tipster.

  “The alarm doesn’t go off unless someone tries to break into the car,” the unidentified voice said. He was definitely angry this time. “Who came with you?”

  “No one,” Eric groaned, though he sounded angry too. “You saw me pull in. No one else was in the car.”

  Sadie cringed as she heard another sound, one like a closed fist against Eric’s head. If only she’d have let Monty come with her. Looking around for any means of escape, Sadie came to the quick and devastating reminder that she was fenced-in on every side. Literally.

  How did she get herself into this situation in the first place? If not for the fact that she was hiding, she’d have screamed in frustration. Why, oh why, was she not on a plane right this very minute?

  The internal tantrum lasted only a few seconds before it burned out, and she was forced to face the full reality of her present situation.

  She was trapped. Eric was pinned. She let her eyes drift closed as she sent up a silent prayer for help to get herself, and Eric, out of this one. Poor Eric. And yet, she couldn’t help but shoot him a little “I told you so” in her mind. She’d said this meeting was a bad idea, but her caution didn’t change the fact that Eric wouldn’t be pinned against the wall if she hadn’t followed him here. She willed the man to let Eric go.

 

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