Deadly Moves

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Deadly Moves Page 6

by Rodney Riesel


  Dan turned to see the young man walking toward him. “Michael, are the rooms ready?”

  “Of course, Daniel. Two adjoining suites on the seventh floor, just like you asked. I had to move some people around and call in some favors, but anything for you sweetie.” Michael winked.

  “Thanks, Michael, I knew I could count on you.”

  Michael looked Dan up and down hungrily like a hyena in heat. “Oh, you can count on me for any of your needs, Daniel.”

  “Um, thanks?”

  Michael led the group back through the doors, across the checkerboard floor in front of the registration desk, and to the elevators. “No need for a big star to register at the desk,” Michael said over his shoulder. “We'll take care of all that later.”

  Kendra said nothing.

  Red placed the luggage on a cart and motioned for a bell hop.

  Michael, Dan, Kendra, and Mel all rode up in the first elevator. Red, Preston, and the luggage went up next.

  Michael opened the door to room number 705. “Here's your room, Ms. Hunt.”

  Dan walked in first and Kendra followed. Mel remained in the hall.

  Michael walked to 706 and unlocked the door. “Here you are Mr. Preston.”

  “Thank you,” Preston said and entered his room, followed by Red and the baggage.

  Michael unlocked the door that separated the two rooms. “Daniel, Mr. Preston's room has two bedrooms if you decide to stay here with them.”

  “Thank you, Michael,” said Dan.

  “If you need anything,” Michael said, “please call the front desk and ask for me personally.” He turned and swished back down the hall.

  The bellhop waited at Preston's door. “That'll be all,” Preston said.

  The bellhop pursed his lips, turned, and walked out. Dan met him outside Kendra's door and slipped him a twenty. “Here ya go, Henry.”

  The boy smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Coast.”

  Dan stepped back into the suite and closed the door behind him. A hallway led from the door to a small living room, and a kitchenette beyond it. A bathroom was off the hall to the left and Preston's suite was through the open door on the right. The living room had a couch, two end tables with lamps, two matching chairs, and a desk. There were two bedrooms off of the living room, to the left, with an adjoining bath between them, accessible from each room. In the kitchenette was a little oak table with two oak chairs, a mini fridge, and a microwave. Beyond the kitchen was a sliding glass door that led to a balcony over-looking the pool. The roof-top pool sat level with the second floor. Preston's room was a mirror image of Kendra's.

  Red had left Preston's suitcase on the floor in his suite, and then walked through the door with Kendra's luggage. “Where would you like these, Miss Hunt?” he asked.

  Kendra sat on the edge of the sofa scrolling through her cell phone. “Right there is fine,” she said, never looking up from the cell.

  Red dropped the bags where he stood. They hit the floor with a thud, Kendra didn't notice.

  Preston walked into the room. “How's your room?” he asked Kendra.

  “I thought it would be bigger.”

  “This is one of the nicest hotels in town,” Preston assured her.

  Dan jumped in. “According to the itinerary you emailed me, Preston, you both will be staying in this evening.”

  That got Kendra's attention.

  “Yes,” Preston replied.

  “No!” Kendra argued. “I will not sit in this room with nothing to do all night but stare at the TV. I wanna go out and do something.”

  “You're dancing at the club tomorrow night, Kendra,” Preston reminded her. “Maybe you should stay in tonight and rest.”

  “Maybe you should stop treating me like a child, Harvey. I don't pay you to be my father, I pay you to do what you're told. I don't work for you; you work for me. Remember that.”

  Preston's face flushed and he looked around the room at the other men and then back at Kendra. “What would you like to do?” he asked.

  Kendra laid her phone on the couch next to her. She looked up at Mel and smiled spontaneously; the big lug obviously brought out the best in her. “What would you suggest, Mel?”

  Mel glanced over at Dan and then back at Kendra. “I don't really get out that much, Kendra. Dan or Red probably no more about the nightlife around here than I do.”

  Kendra looked at Dan. “What would you suggest, Dan?” She removed her ball cap and tossed it on the coffee table, then pulled the hair tie from around her ponytail and tossed it next to the cap. She scratched her head with her long red fingernails and her blonde hair fell down around her shoulders. “Where would a girl like me go to have a good time?” she asked with a seductive little grin. She leaned back on her elbow and crossed her legs.

  The men who watched her movies would probably be impressed with the act but it was too late for Dan—he had already seen her for what she was: a spoiled little brat. “I have no idea, Miss Hunt. I don't know any girls like you,” he answered.

  The grin quickly left her face, and she sat up. It was obvious she hadn't been talked to in that tone of voice since her C-cups first made a showing. “What's that supposed to mean?” she shot back.

  “Mr. Coast!” Preston admonished him.

  “No, wait, Harvey,” Kendra ordered, halting him with the palm of her hand. “Let him talk. What exactly do you mean, 'a girl like me'? What kind of girl am I?”

  Dan folded his arms in front of him and cocked his head. “You're an immature and angry little girl who never grew up, and the reason you never grew up is because you thought being grown up had something to do with sex. You thought being mature meant being able to control people with sex and your looks, and now, with what little bit of money you've acquired through sex.”

  Kendra's face steadily grew redder as Dan kept speaking. When he had finished her teeth were clenched and she looked around for something to throw, finding only her phone. She grabbed it and hurled it at Dan's head while screaming, “Get out of my room! You're fired!”

  The cell phone didn't even come close to its target, smashing instead against the wall to Dan's left and hitting the floor in three pieces. Dan glanced down at the floor and then at Preston. “Good luck,” Dan said, and walked out.

  Kendra looked at Mel. “Are you staying?” she asked.

  Mel shook his head sorrowfully. “I'm sorry, but I have to go with Dan,” he replied. Before he followed his friends out, he paused in the doorway to add guilelessly” “You know, Kendra, you really should work on your temper. It doesn't become a pretty young lady like you.”

  Kendra's mouth dropped open. “Mel, I'm sor—”

  But he was already gone.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dan and Mel sat on their bar stools at Red's Bar and Grill. “Love is My Religion” by Ziggy Marley played on the jukebox. Mel sipped his water.

  There were three tables of four and two tables of two, all eating late lunches or early dinners. Cindy made her way around the room taking orders and delivering food. Jocko was behind the grill hollering, “Order up!” every so often and clearing tables when he had time.

  “Well, that's gotta be a record,” Red stated as he slid Dan's tequila, Seven, and lime across the bar. “Fired in less than two hours.”

  “I wasn't fired. I quit,” said Dan.

  “Her exact words were, 'Get out! You’re fired!'” Mel reminded Dan.

  “I said, 'I quit' before she ever said I was fired,” Dan argued.

  “I didn't hear that part,” Red snorted.

  “I said it to myself.” Dan took a big gulp of his tequila.

  “I don't think that counts,” said Mel.

  “It counts to me. Now, shut up and drink your water.”

  “So what are you gonna do now?” Red asked, as he poured himself a rum and Coke.

  “Well, let’s not forget there's still the tragedy from the other day to investigate.”

  Red nodded his head. “Oh, that's right, the double
homicide.”

  “I was talking about the theft of my five hundred bucks, but solve one and you solve the other, I guess.”

  “Can I have five dollars for the jukebox?” Mel asked.

  “No,” Dan replied.

  “I wanna play some songs.”

  “There's already songs playing.”

  “But I wanna play songs I like.”

  “Guitars and Tiki Bars” by Kenny Chesney was now playing.

  “What's wrong with this song?” Dan asked.

  “Nothing,” Mel replied.

  “Well, there ya go, a song you like. Just saved me five bucks.”

  “Dick,” Mel muttered quietly.

  Red busted out laughing.

  Dan did a spit take. “Whoa! What?”

  “I didn't say anything,” Mel mumbled.

  “I didn't think so,” said Dan.

  Still chuckling, Red turned to the open till of the cash register and pulled out a five dollar bill and tossed it in front of Mel. “Here ya go, pal. That was worth five bucks. He is a dick.”

  “Thanks, Red!” Mel said, jumped off the bar stool, and headed toward the old Wurlitzer

  “Yeah, that's great,” Dan said disgustedly. “Reward him for calling me a dick. Now he'll be doing it all the time.”

  “Why not?” Red guffawed. “Everyone else does.”

  Dan sipped his drink.

  “Where should we start?” Red asked.

  “Where should we start with what?”

  “Getting back your precious five hundred dollars.”

  “I don't know.”

  “I wonder if Rick got anything on that U-Haul?”

  “Let's start there.” Dan pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his cargo shorts and dialed Rick's number.

  “Hello?” Rick answered after a few rings.

  “Hey, Rick.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Geez, Rick, what makes you think I want something?”

  “Because you only call when you want something.”

  “For your information. I was calling to see if you and Laura wanted to go to dinner tonight with me and Maxine. I was supposed to call you this morning but I forgot.”

  “Oh, okay. Let me call Laura and make sure nothing is going on. What time were you thinking?”

  “We'll pick you up around seven.”

  “Sounds good, I'll get back to you quick as I can.” Rick hung up his cell.

  “You didn't ask about the U-Haul,” Red pointed out.

  “Well, no, I had to make up some bullshit story about going out to dinner so he wouldn't think I only called when I wanted something. I'll have to wait and ask tonight.”

  Red shook his head. “You're a real piece of work.”

  “I'll take that as a compliment.”

  Just as Mel returned to his seat at the bar “Happy Birthday” began playing over the speakers. Red and Dan looked at each other and then at Mel.

  “'Happy Birthday'?” said Dan as if he'd been bitch-slapped. “Really?”

  Mel shrugged. “It's one of my favorite songs.”

  “Is it someone's birthday?” Red asked.

  “I'm sure it's someone's birthday,” Mel replied. Mel turned to the patrons in the room. “Anyone celebrating a birthday today?”

  A tall thin man in his early forties seated with his chubby, dark-haired wife and two small children put up his hand hesitantly and grinned. “Uh … I am,” he responded.

  “Hey!” Mel shouted excitingly. “Your meals are on the house! Congratulations!”

  “Wow, thanks,” the guy said.

  “Everybody!” Mel hollered, raising his hands above his head. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” he warbled in a pleasant enough baritone. When the entire room joined in, Mel's index finger became impromptu batons as he joyfully conducted the chorus.

  Everyone was smiling and laughing … except Red, who now had to pay for four meals.

  When the song was over everyone clapped and then returned to their meals.

  “See why that's my favorite song?” Mel asked.

  “Yeah,” Red answered.

  Dan snickered into his empty glass until his cell phone rang. “Hello?”

  “It's Rick.”

  “I know.”

  “It's a go for dinner.”

  “Great. Pick you up at seven.” Dan hung up the phone and slid his glass across the bar. He glanced over at Mel and then at Red. “How would you two like to spend some quality time together this evening?”

  “Who two?” Red asked.

  “You two,” Dan repeated, waving his finger from Red to Mel.

  Red said, “Um … I have—”

  “That would be great!” Mel shouted. “We could go out and get something to eat, rent some movies. Oh, this is going to be great.”

  “Yeah, this is gonna be great,” Red agreed half-heartedly.

  “Can I spend the night?” Mel asked.

  “No,” Red quickly replied.

  “Why not?” Mel asked.

  “It's against my religion.”

  “Really? What religion are you?”

  “Amish.”

  Mel cocked his head. “I did not know you were Amish, Red. See, we're learning new things about each other already. This is going to be great.”

  “Yeah, great,” Red said. “Thanks, Dan.”

  “Don't mention it, my Amish friend.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  At twenty minutes to seven Dan and Maxine dropped Mel off at Red's house on Rose Street. Mel carried a plastic Winn-Dixie grocery bag up the walkway toward the front door. Inside the bag were two DVDs—Dirty Harry and Magnum Force—and a checkerboard. Mel hoped the Amish played checkers. Mel also was anxious to ask Red why he didn't have a long funny beard.

  Dan pulled away from the curb and sped off down the street the second Mel was inside and the door shut behind him.

  Rick Carver and his wife Laura lived in a two-story home on Seventeenth Terrace. A wrought iron fence with cement columns surrounded the front yard. The stucco home was painted a light peach color with white trim and had a gray steel roof.

  Dan steered Maxine's Blue Ford Focus to the curb and shut off the engine.

  “Have you ever been out to dinner with Rick before?” Maxine asked.

  Dan gave the horn a quick toot. “Never,” he replied. “Breakfast and lunch a few times.”

  “Why dinner now?”

  “Just trying to be nice. I feel a little like it was my fault he was shot in the ear.” Dan craned his neck toward the front door to see if anyone was coming.

  “I thought you were blaming that one on Mel.”

  “Well, yeah, it was Mel's fault, but I was supposed to be watching Mel. You know, the buck stops here, and all that shit. Besides, he helped me out quite a bit on the Victor Crawford case and I thought it would be nice to take him out to dinner for that too.” Dan smacked the horn again, this time with the edge of his fist.

  “Because you're such a nice guy,” Maxine said suspiciously.

  Dan ignored the jab. “Where are they,” he whispered.

  “Give them a second. We just pulled up.”

  Dan hit the horn again.

  “Would you stop that!” said Maxine, slapping Dan's hand away from the steering column.

  Dan opened his door. “Come on. Let's see what's taking them so long.”

  Maxine got out of the car and together they walked through the gate and to the front door.

  Rick pulled open the door just as Dan lifted his fist to knock.

  “In a hurry?” Rick asked. His entire left ear was wrapped in a bandage.

  “I beeped three times,” said Dan.

  “In a matter of thirty seconds,” Maxine added.

  “How’s the ear?” Dan asked.

  Rick gently touched the bandage. “It wasn't as bad as it looked.”

  “Are ya gonna have half an ear?”

  “No, they were able to stitch together both sides of what was m
issing. There'll be a scar, but it won't look too bad … so they say.”

  Dan pretended to wipe sweat from his brow. “Thank God. I would have felt a little guilty if you had to join a circus as the one eared freak.”

  *****

  Dan and Rick sat across from each other at the four top table at Louie's Backyard. Maxine sat to Dan's right, with Laura to Rick's right. Their table sat in the corner of the deck and over-looked the water. A dark blue umbrella, protruding through a hole in the middle of the table, was open but did nothing to block the setting sun.

  Dan had a tequila, Seven, and lime in front of him, Rick was drinking a vodka and cranberry, and the ladies each had a bottle of Mic Ultra. They had ordered their meals and the menus had been removed from the table.

  “So, Rick, you hear anything back on that U-Haul?” Dan asked. “With your good ear, I mean.”

  “As a matter of fact, I did, wise guy.” Rick unfurled his napkin and placed it on his lap. “Is that why you asked me to dinner?” he added accusingly.

  Dan hoped he didn't look guilty. “No, I was just trying to make conversation.”

  “Let's not talk shop,” Laura pleaded. Her eyes went back to Maxine. “Maxine, I love that top you're wearing. The color goes great with your skin tone.”

  “Then let's not talk clothes either,” said Dan.

  Maxine smacked his arm. “Thank you, Laura. I bought this last summer and never wore it till now. The tag was still on it.”

  “The tags are still on half the clothes in her closet,” Dan said.

  Maxine shot him a look. “Really? At least I buy new clothes.” She looked back at Laura. “Dan has underwear so old you can see through them.”

  “Most men do,” Dan argued.

  “I don't,” said Rick.

  Laura got up from the table. “Here, Rick, switch places with me.”

  Rick got up and did as he was asked.

  Dan leaned in toward Rick. “So, what exactly did you hear about the U-Haul?”

  “Why don't you just let the police and the sheriff's department handle this,” Rick said.

  “You guys can handle the murders, I just want my five hundred dollars back.”

  Rick rolled his eyes. “Two people were murdered and all you can think about is your money?”

 

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