* * *
“So you want to pay me to do what exactly?” asked Valentina Carrizo after we’d shuttled her out of the Blue Iguana and into my vehicle later that evening.
I gave a glance in my rearview mirror and pulled away from the curb. “You’ve heard of a singing telegram?”
Seated shotgun next to me, she nodded. “Yes? But not a singing hookergram. I don’t think that’s a real thing.” She wrinkled her nose.
I glanced over at her and shot her a wink. “Oh, it’ll be a real thing tonight.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“Al and I have some business to take care of in this guy’s house. We just need you to keep him busy for a while.”
“What kind of business?” she asked.
From the backseat, Al held up a hand. “Sorry, miss. That’s on a need-to-know basis.”
She turned her torso so she could look back at Al. “Well, I need to know.”
I reached over and patted Valentina’s leg. “Please, Val. No questions, alright?”
“The less you know, the better for your safety,” said Al.
“Is what you’re doing legal?”
I lifted a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“It is on thees island,” she said with a giggle. Then she slid over closer to me and rubbed a hand straight down the middle of my crotch. “When I am done here, are we going to go back to your place?”
I glanced up in my rearview mirror again just in time to see Al rolling his eyes. I lifted Valentina’s hand from my crotch and placed it on her own leg. “Sorry, love, not tonight. I’ve got plans.” I wanted to add not any night, but we needed her technical services for the evening, and I didn’t want to risk offending the woman.
She frowned and sat back in her seat in a huff. “You are still going to pay me, right? I want double. Danger equals double.”
“Of course you’re going to get paid. And fine, double it is. All you have to do is keep him occupied until I text you. It’s your choice how far you want to let it get.”
“But what if he is not interested?”
“Oh, I have a sneaking suspicion that’s not going to be the case.”
“But maybe he is not home.”
“We already called his home number. He’s home alright.”
“But maybe I cannot sing very well.”
I glanced over at Valentina. She wore a plum off-the-shoulder top that tied in a big knot between her boobs. Her matching figure-hugging skirt barely covered her curvy bottom. “Honestly, Val, looking like that—I don’t think he’s going to mind if you can’t hold a note.”
She looked up at me seductively then, batting her eyes and smiling. “Thank you very much. So what should I sing?”
“‘Happy Birthday’?”
She frowned. “I don’t theenk it is going to be his birthday.”
I threw my hands up in the air. She was worse than Al. “Fuck, Val. I don’t know. Sing the fucking weather forecast, I don’t care. Make something up.”
She frowned at me. “Do you talk to your mother with that mouth?”
From the backseat, Al chuckled. “I tell him that all the time. Maybe he’ll listen to you.”
I groaned. “Ugh. Fine. Listen, Val. What song do you know by heart?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I know the Colombian national anthem.”
“That’s the only song you know by heart?”
“I don’t know any English songs by heart.”
“None?”
“I only know ‘Happy Birthday.’”
“Then sing him ‘Happy Birthday.’”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll sing ‘Happy Birthday.’”
* * *
Pulling up to Kip Dalton’s gated front entrance, we stopped next to a speaker. Al and I cowered down in the backseat while Valentina pressed the button. A man answered, his voice crackling through the speaker. “Yes?”
“Hello.” Valentina put on her best smile for the video camera focused on her. “Singing hookergram for Meester Keep Dalton.”
“Singing what?!”
“Singing hookergram for Meester Keep Dalton,” Valentina repeated, this time more slowly.
The speaker went dead for an extended moment. Then the voice came back on. “I’m sorry, who sent you?”
“Say Vito sent you,” I hissed as quietly as I could from the backseat.
“I am a present from Vito,” said Valentina, shimmying slightly to make her breasts bounce enticingly for the camera.
“Vito sent you?” We heard the voice behind the speaker chuckle, and then it went dead again. We waited a long second. Valentina was just about to reach out and push the button again when the gates swung open.
Sweet.
As Valentina pulled ahead, I lifted my head just high enough to see where we were going. From a distance I noticed that the end of the driveway curved all the way around in a circle. A large stone fountain sat in the middle of it, spewing up random arches and sprays of dancing colored water. I puffed air. “Holy shit. What’s he think this place is? The fucking Bellagio?”
“Where do you want me to go?” asked Valentina.
“Park a little ways back from the front door at an angle. Al and I are going to slip out on the driver’s side once he’s occupied.”
She nodded as we passed a detached multiple-stall garage. Six vehicles of different makes, models, and colors all sat out on the pavement beneath a stand of palm trees. The moon reflected off their hoods, and even in the dim haze of the evening, I could see that they’d all just been washed and then polished until they shone.
“You better stay down,” she whispered as she pulled the car to a stop. “The front light is on.”
“Leave the window open,” I whispered. “And be careful. Remember, I’ll text you when it’s time to go, so keep an eye on your phone.”
“Please don’t get caught,” she hissed back.
“Aww, sweet of you to worry about us,” I said, reaching forward to squeeze the back of her elbow.
She yanked her arm away. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about me! If you get caught, then I get caught.”
“Just go,” I hissed.
Keeping my head low, I peered up over the seat, and watched her get out of the vehicle. Her heels clicked on the stone driveway and her round bottom sashayed from side to side as she walked up the walk and rang the bell. I kept my eyes glued to the front door, waiting to get a visual on Dalton and praying that he’d take the bait.
“What’s she doing?” asked Al, his head still resting on the seat.
“She’s screwing him on the front porch,” I whispered back.
“Really?”
“No, not really. He hasn’t even answered the door yet, Al. I don’t think even hookers can work that fast.”
“Yes, they can.”
I glanced down at him. “You know this from experience?”
“Let’s just say I was a different man before Evie polished me up into the gem I am today.”
“Al!”
“What? I’m kidding! I can’t tell a joke?”
Shaking my head, I looked up at the porch. The door had just swung open. A polished-looking blond man in a tailored, slim-cut grey suit opened the door. The first four or five buttons on his pink button-down shirt were unbuttoned, and he held a tumbler of whiskey in one hand. When he saw Valentina staring back at him, he leaned against the door frame, a broad smile on his face.
“Are you Meester Keep Dalton?” we heard her ask in her pronounced Colombian accent.
“I am,” he said, a wide smile on his face.
Upon confirmation that she’d found our target, Valentina immediately burst into a sexy rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
When she was done, Dalton chuckled. “It’s not even my—”
In what I could only assume was an effort to cease any and all conversation regarding her song choice, she sauntered directly up to him and unbuckled his pants.
&nb
sp; Al’s head poked up next to mine, just in time to see the man’s belt come off and smack the air as if it aspired to be Indiana Jones’s whip. “See? I told you hookers work fast.”
22
The second that Valentina disappeared inside the house with Kip Dalton, I pulled my black ski mask down over my face, cracked open the rear driver’s-side door, and slid to the ground like a blob of shapeshifting plasmodium slime. Landing in a squatting position next to my Jeep, I held the door open for Al.
“Your turn,” I hissed up at him.
Al looked down at me. Only his watery blue eyes were visible under his mask. “I’ll break a hip if I slide out like that.”
“I’d prefer you didn’t. We don’t have that much time.”
Al rolled onto his stomach and then slid feetfirst out of the vehicle, trying hard to keep his head down.
Duck walking to the end of the Jeep, I turned back towards him. He was standing fully erect. “For fuck’s sake, Al. Get down,” I whispered.
He shuffled towards me, holding his back. “Are you kidding? I haven’t squatted since Reagan was president.”
I rolled my eyes. “Just follow me.” With my back pressed up against my vehicle, I slipped around the tailgate and into the shadows of the garage. Al shuffled behind me, flat-footed, but with raised shoulders and arms, like he only half-remembered how to tiptoe. Once we were safely ensconced in the shadowed, protective cover between the garage and the house, I felt a little more comfortable about not being seen.
On our way to the back of the garage, we passed between the assorted newly washed luxury cars and SUVs. I pointed at a silver Porsche that still had its dealer plates in the window. “This one doesn’t even have its tags yet. Like he really needed another one?” I hissed at Al. “Must be rough.” I shook my head. At this point, my only hope of ever being able to afford property and vehicles like Kip Dalton’s was for the Cruz brothers to strike it rich. Not that I’d buy all this stuff even if I had the money. I had no problem admitting to my cheapskate lifestyle. As long as my immediate needs were met, I was pretty happy.
We wove through the cars and around to the back of the garage. The plan was to try and find a back door or a back window that was open. But when we got around to the back of the garage, I realized that a ten-foot-tall wrought-iron fence precluded us from getting into the backyard and finding our way inside.
“Shit.” I knew I wouldn’t have a problem scaling the fence, but even if I could get Al to the top, I was pretty sure he’d break a hip on the way down. I turned and looked at him. “You wait here, I’ll climb over and then see if I can find a rope to pull you over or something.” Without waiting for a response, I grabbed hold of the bars and began to climb. When I got to the top, I threw one leg over the bars, but when I went to throw my other leg over, the hem of my navy Bermuda shorts caught on one of the spear-tipped points. “Sonovabitch,” I breathed, trying to awkwardly hold myself up with one hand and free my pants with my other. One of the spear-tipped points dug into my forearm, making me wince in pain. Then, before I realized what was happening, I lost my grip and fell to the ground, landing on my back.
“Ooof!” I exhaled.
The landing knocked every last breath out of my body.
Fuck.
Rolling around on the ground with my eyes closed, trying to relearn how to breathe, I suddenly felt the presence of someone standing over me. I pinched one eye open and saw a dark figure looming over me. My heart leapt into my throat. I dug the heels of my boat shoes into the ground and extended my legs, pushing myself as far back as I could, trying to put space between me and whatever guard had found me.
But the dark figure followed me.
“You alright, kid?” hissed Al’s familiar voice.
My head jerked up to stare at the shadowy figure. “Al?” I whispered.
“Yeah? You break anything?”
“Shit, Al. You scared the fuck outta me,” I wheezed.
“You’re gonna blame this one on me? You’re the one that scaled the fence and fell ten feet instead of just going through the gate like a normal person.” He pointed backwards, towards an open gate just down the fence a few yards.
“There was a gate?” I took Al’s extended hand and let him help pull me to my feet.
“Of course there was a gate. Where there’s a fence, there’s always a gate.”
“Fabulous.” I dusted myself off and tried to regain my pride while simultaneously regaining my breath.
Al nodded.
“Come on.” We paced around to Dalton’s backyard to find that it sloped down towards its own private beach, which opened out to the sea, facing Isla La Fleur—a neighboring island barely visible on the horizon. A warm island breeze blew in, bringing with it the smell of the briny ocean air and carrying the sweet peachy notes of nearby plumerias. I tapped Al’s arm and pointed across the green to the pool, which was adjacent to the main house. A set of French doors had been left wide open. That was our target.
Al nodded and together we crept across the grass beneath the bright light of the moon. We’d gotten about half the distance when we heard the sound of wild barking coming from somewhere between us and the beach.
My eyes widened when I saw the pointed ears of a pair of patrolling Dobermans appear just beneath the hill to the beach. Fuck. While I knew I could sprint to the house with my long legs, there was no way Al was making that run. He ran on three speeds—hobble, shuffle, and amble. Without skipping a beat, I turned to face Al, threw him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and sprinted towards the open doorway.
The dogs got closer and closer, as did the open doors to the pool. It would be a close race. We hit the concrete just as the dogs did. I ran around a pair of pool recliners. The dogs leapt over the pair on their end. My pulse raced. Who would get to the door first?
I ended up closing the gap first. I slid inside the house and slammed the sliding glass door shut just as the dogs sprang to catch me. They both smashed into the glass and crumpled to the ground, whimpering for only a split second before launching into a full-on bark fest. I bent forward, lowering Al to his feet.
He didn’t skip a beat before cupping his chin thoughtfully. “There’s an old saying, you know. Before climbing a fence, a wise man must ask himself if the fence is there to keep something out or to keep something in.”
I leaned forward on my knees, panting heavily. “Okay, Yoda. You couldn’t have pulled that one outta your ass a little earlier in the game?”
Al shrugged. “I have a feeling they aren’t there just for show. They’re probably Dalton’s alarm system. Maybe we ought to find a place to lay low for a minute or two.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” With my back pressed up against a wall, I slipped to the nearest doorway and looked inside. It was a bathroom. “In here,” I hissed.
Al followed me, and the two of us climbed into the shower, straightening the shower curtain behind us. Within seconds, the light in the little vestibule we’d been in flipped on.
I heard the sound of bare feet slapping on the tile. “What’s your problem, Duke?” asked a male voice that I could only assume was Kip Dalton’s.
The dog’s barked wildly on the other side of the glass.
“Do they always bark like that?” It was Valentina’s voice this time.
“They probably just want to come inside. They aren’t particularly fond of the dark.”
Al looked up at me.
I held a finger up to my ski-mask-covered lips. My heart beat wildly. If he let them in, we were goners. Those dogs would find us in two shakes.
“Oh,” said Valentina. “Maybe you should wait to let them in until we finish what we started.” She giggled seductively then.
Dalton chuckled. “I like how you think. Now, where were we?” Though overshadowed by the dogs’ wild barking, we could still hear the disgusting slurping and moaning sounds of Valentina and Dalton making out.
Valentina giggled again. “I theenk they are watching
us.”
He laughed. “I can promise you that it’s nothing they haven’t seen before.”
“But it’s kind of distraction. I can’t focus with them barking,” she said. “Maybe we should go somewhere that we cannot hear them. I want to be able to focus all of my attention on what I came here to do.”
“Oohh,” Dalton growled. “Attention to detail. I like it. I can tell you’re a professional. Well, then, how about we go somewhere a little more quiet. Upstairs to my room, perhaps?”
Val squealed then, making me wonder if Dalton hadn’t scooped her up. Because the next thing I knew, I heard giggles fading deeper into the house. Al and I waited until we couldn’t hear any more sounds coming from the pair. The dogs continued barking, but I had a sneaking suspicion that Kip Dalton was going to be too busy to care.
Finally, we emerged from the shower. When we did, Al tugged the mask off of his face. “Oh my gosh, that was close,” he whispered, fanning himself with his mask. “I was roasting in there.”
“But Val came through,” I said. “We’ll have to remember to tip her well. She saved our asses.”
Al and I walked back into the little tiled room off the pool. The dogs still barked wildly at us, but now I felt a little more in control. I waggled my fingers at them. “It’s been real, boys.”
“It’s never a good idea to taunt a dog,” said Al. “Especially dogs that are trained assassins.”
“Oh, trust me, Al. I never plan to see those boys again. I don’t care if we have to crawl out through a fucking window, we’re not going back that way again. Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”
“Now that we’re in, what’s the plan?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess see if we can’t find the room that Giselle told us about.”
Al nodded. “You’d think a guy like this has an office somewhere. Maybe you drop me off there and then you can go explore the house.”
“Good idea. Come on.”
We started moving through the house, and I was instantly surprised at how nicely decorated Dalton’s place was. For a bachelor, the guy had a lot of stuff. If I had a place like his, I’d be lucky to have a sofa set and a big-screen TV in the living room, let alone art on the walls and tchotchkes on unnecessary pieces of furniture. But Dalton had it all, right down to the oversized centerpiece on his dining room table. It made me wonder if maybe he was married after all, though if he was, I’d yet to see a single framed picture of him and a wife.
Drunk Driving Page 13
