Pineapple Disco
Page 16
Pirro turned to locate Stephanie.
Seeing her chance, Charlotte ran toward Pirro’s gun. Like a zombie refusing to die, Ryan bounced to his hands and knees and crawled to the gun at high speed, grabbing it before Charlotte could reach it.
“Everyone freeze!” shouted Ryan.
Nearly upon Ryan, Charlotte stopped and held up her hands, realizing he had no way of knowing whose side she was on.
On the other side of the room, Stephanie stood, gun in one hand, the other gripping the area beneath her left breast. She breathed in short, shallow gasps, her skin pale. Charlotte had never seen her so unraveled. Her hair looked like a raked haystack.
She wished she had a camera.
Pirro stood between Stephanie and Ryan, his hands held waist high, as if holding his hands over his head wouldn’t be cool.
Ryan motioned to Charlotte to move from her position behind him. She accommodated without getting too close to Pirro.
Ryan shook the gun in Charlotte’s direction. “Who are you?”
“My name is Charlotte. Gloria hired me to find you.”
“Gloria?”
Charlotte realized Ryan and Gloria had never exchanged names. “The woman you wore the t-shirts for. The woman bound and gagged at the dry cleaners because she was so determined to find and save you.”
The side of Ryan’s lips curled into a smile. “Gloria,” he repeated. The name seemed to please him. “She’s okay?”
Charlotte nodded. “Just shaken up. She’s very worried about you.”
He nodded and turned his attention to Stephanie. “And you’re here for Pirro. Why?”
Stephanie took a moment to compose herself, running her free hand through her hair. “He’s been recalled by his employer.”
“Recalled?”
Stephanie stared back at Ryan. Charlotte could feel the weight of that gaze.
“You’re here to kill him,” said Charlotte.
Ryan perked. “Is that true?”
Stephanie didn’t answer.
Ryan trained his gun on Pirro. “That’s why I’m here, too. He killed my son.”
Pirro glowered. “Kid was in the wrong place. Nothing personal.”
Ryan’s hand shook as he held his weapon on his son’s murderer. Charlotte had the impression he hadn’t fired a gun before. Stephanie, who was standing almost directly behind Pirro, moved a few steps to the right to give Ryan a clear shot.
“Let me call the police,” said Charlotte. “You don’t have to kill him.”
Ryan’s jaw clenched, his index finger twitching on the trigger. “I don’t know—I can’t—”
Pirro huffed a laugh. “You haven’t got the guts, old man.”
Charlotte watched Ryan’s hand tense.
“Ryan—”
“Let me take him,” offered Stephanie.
Ryan’s eyes shifted in her direction. “I should do it. He was my son.”
Stephanie shook her head. “You have done it. You found him. You got your answers. You don’t have to pull the trigger. You’re the scales of justice, not the executioner.”
Charlotte blinked at Stephanie.
That sounded almost poetic.
Ryan swallowed, head nodding, building momentum.
“Take him,” he said.
Stephanie pointed her weapon at Pirro, walking towards him without hesitation.
Charlotte balled her fists. “No. I’m not going to stand here while you murder that man. I’ll call the police.”
She reached for her phone and Ryan trained his gun on her.
Charlotte lifted her hands back into the air. “Ryan—”
“She’s taking him,” he said.
“But whoever she’s taking him to will kill him.”
Ryan looked at Stephanie. “You’re just taking him to be punished, right? He’ll end up in jail?”
Stephanie smiled. “Sure. Jail.”
She winked.
Charlotte’s hands flopped to her sides. “Oh come on, Ryan, you know she’s going to kill him. She’s—she’s a Honey Badger!”
Ryan sniffed. “She’s the Rubia.”
Stephanie shoved Pirro in the back with her gun. “Move it.”
Pirro snarled and started forward.
“You’re both dead,” he said, running his finger across his own throat.
Stephanie shoved him again and they walked out of the hanger.
Charlotte looked at Ryan. “What’s to keep me from telling everyone? Are you going to kill me?”
Ryan watched Stephanie disappear from view and lowered his gun.
“I’m not going to kill you. Are you going to send me to jail for letting my son’s killer walk out of here with a pretty girl?”
A car engine roared to life and the two of them watched Stephanie’s red viper appear at the entrance to the hanger. Stephanie’s window lowered. She waved.
The sound of a muffled voice drifted from the vicinity of her trunk.
“FREEDOM!”
Epilogue
“I see you’re wearing your big pink yes,” said Charlotte, holding up her cocktail in cheers.
Gloria had invited everyone to her beach house to celebrate finding Ryan. She’d worn her answer t-shirt, the word Yes spelled out in pink marker across her chest. Ryan stood beaming at her side. They made a beautiful couple.
Gloria beamed. “It was the least I could do. You did an amazing job finding Ryan and saving my life.”
“She saved mine, too,” added Ryan, holding up his glass.
Charlotte and Ryan exchanged a knowing glance. Though she’d been determined to tell the police about Stephanie and Pirro, in the end Ryan refused to support her story. If he denied seeing Stephanie at the hanger, she’d sound like a loon. The idea of putting a grieving father in jail for aiding the assassin who rid the world of his son’s killer, didn’t warm her heart either.
She’d decided to take her win with Gloria and worry about Stephanie’s nefarious secret life another day.
Gloria swept her hand to the left, her giant gold frog ring sparkling. “Charlotte, have you met my friend, Georgette Beaumont?”
A pretty, older woman in a wheelchair looked up at the sound of her name.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Beaumont,” said Charlotte.
Georgette shook her hand. “Please, call me Georgette. Theeze is my son, Louis.”
Charlotte surveyed the man standing behind Georgette’s chair. He looked up from where he’d been staring at his own feet and nodded, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his khaki shorts. He was handsome by the numbers, but looked as though the air had been let out of him.
His mother flung back her hand, catching him in the abdomen.
“Say hello like a man,” she snapped.
Louis rolled his eyes. “Hello.”
Charlotte nodded. “Hello.”
The sensational story of how a man named Domingo “Pirro” Rodríguez, with deep ties to a Columbian drug cartel, had forced Louis Beaumont to use his late father’s reputation in the drug world, had been all over the news the last week.
Charlotte had to believe there was some truth to the stories. Louis didn’t look like a drug lord. He looked like a miserable child who’d been dragged to an adult party by his mother.
No one had come forward to refute Louis’s claims that he was a victim, and it appeared he’d walk away from any involvement in the drug trade with a slap on the wrist.
Pirro wouldn’t say different.
If Pirro ever showed up.
THE END
Look for the next Pineapple Port novel coming soon!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy has been writing and finding other creative ways to make no money since high school.
She specializes in fun, comedic reads about accident prone, easily distracted women with questionable taste in men.
So, autobiographies, mostly.
Amy is the former East Coast Editor of SURFER Magazine but the urge to drive up and down the coast interviewing surfers has long since left her. She works at home with her goofy husband.
She has rocked water aerobics at a fifty-five and over community, but has yet to play bingo. She’s heard it’s vicious.
Other Books by Amy Vansant
Pineapple Port Mysteries
Funny, clean mysteries full of unforgettable characters
Pineapple Lies (I) Pineapple Mystery Box (II)
Pineapple Puzzles (III) Pineapple Land War (IV)
Pineapple Beach House (V) Pineapple Disco VI
Kilty Romantic Comedy/Thrillers
Funny, suspenseful romances with a touch of time-travel
Kilty as Charged (I) Kilty Conscience (II)
Angeli Urban Fantasy
Thrilling adventures with a touch of romantic comedy
Angeli (I) Cherubim (II) Varymor (III)
Slightly Romantic Comedies
New Adult/Adult zany romantic romps
Slightly Stalky (I) Slightly Sweaty (II)
The Magicatory (middle-grade fantasy)
Moms are Nuts (editor: humor anthology)
The Surfer’s Guide to Florida (non-fiction: out of print)