Behind The Gates (A Maggie McFarlin Mystery Book 1)

by Charisse Peeler

“Did you give him money too?” Britney asked.

  “Yes and no,” Alex said. “We were actually business partners.”

  “Business partners?” both Maggie and Britney asked.

  “Oh my God, Alexandra, you didn’t tell us,” Britney said.

  “I never mix business and personal relationships,” she said.

  “Except…” Britney said.

  “It was purely by accident it came up at all. Marco and I had gone to dinner one night, and somehow the conversation always seemed to turn out to be business focused. He was always asking for business advice.

  I somehow thought it was his way of getting close. You know, a way to break the ice—and one thing for sure was I have business experience. Marco actually was interested, he absorbed everything I had to say. Sometimes I would get two or three calls a day where he would go through a list of questions.”

  “We both know you liked him, Alex, more than a friend,” Britney said.

  “Was it really obvious?”

  “Yes, but you shouldn’t feel ashamed,” Maggie said. “He was a good-looking guy with a silver tongue.”

  “I admit it was flattering, this young good-looking man turning to me for advice. One night we were having dinner at Mr. Chang’s, and I was telling him about a deal I just landed in Brazil. Since he was from there, I thought he would find it interesting…but when I mentioned Avianca Brazil, he started shaking his head.

  It was a big deal for our small company, Avianca is the fourth-largest airline in Brazil. I had just shipped more than a million dollars’ worth of electronics, which was already in transit. His face twisted up like something was wrong, and he made a call. When he hung up, he told me that the airline was just about to file for bankruptcy.

  “If Avianca took physical possession of the material, it would become a part of their assets and we might never get paid—or if we did, it would be for pennies on the dollar. Marco was a smart guy, and since my company was the legal owner until delivery was made, we could intercept the delivery, take possession, and return the shipment. Marco said he had friends who could delay the delivery until we got there, but we needed to leave tomorrow.

  “I made some calls and lined up transportation for the next day. I was just so thankful for Marco at that point.”

  Britney eyed Alex uncertainly. “Are you sure that it was all true? How would he know about the airline going bankrupt?”

  “I didn’t know for sure, but I decided to go with my gut and trust him. That big of a loss could seriously cripple my company. So we made plans to go to Brazil and get my material before it was delivered. I made arrangements for a plane leaving out of Boca the next morning.

  “As soon as I stepped onto the plane I saw Marco comfortably sitting in one of the oversized leather seats; he already had a drink in hand. He was wearing a white linen suit which looked so Miami Vice, but with his Italian complexion and white smile, I just kind of melted into my seat. He was drinking some kind of Brazilian local drink called a caipirinha. I took a sip, but it was too sweet, so I just ordered a mojito.”

  “I love mojito’s,” Britney said.

  “Keep going,” Maggie said. “I just can’t believe you never told us about this.”

  “When we landed in São Paulo, we checked into Hotel Emiliano and waited for a phone call. The meeting was scheduled for ten a.m. the next day, so we settled in for the evening, had a nice dinner and an amazing bottle of wine, maybe two bottles, followed by a Disaronno. I found myself caught up in the whole evening, it was romantic…Marco was so incredibly interesting…highly educated, and obviously very handsome. I was feeling light-headed by the time we went to our rooms.”

  “What?” Britney exploded. “I don’t believe you. You’re telling us nothing happened?”

  “I didn’t say that. As soon as I closed the door there was a tap—and Marco came in. I’m not saying how long he stayed, but that man was magic.”

  Maggie held up both hands. “No more,” she said.

  “What are you talking about?” Britney objected. “I would like to hear some juicy stuff…”

  “Well, let’s just say…wow! It had been a long dry spell so…you know.”

  “Oh my god!” Maggie exclaimed.

  “Anyway, the next day we met a guy and the truck driver, I handed them each an envelope with, let’s say, a lot of cash. No matter, it saved me from much bigger losses. Then Marco took me to the business district and to a top floor office building that was one big space with no individual offices but a few desks scattered throughout. In the center of the space was a large table set up with a scale model of a beautiful resort.

  Marco was mostly speaking Portuguese to the others but explained to me that this was an E-B-5 project and this was the investment firm set up to offer the investors green cards. He explained that for a minimum investment of five hundred thousand dollars, the investor received a green card and basically a fast track to citizenship.

  It’s a government program designed to stimulate employment in the construction industry. The investor has to invest the money for five years and gets no interest on the investment.”

  Maggie looked at Britney for any sign of a reaction but there was none. Maggie felt her face flush but wasn’t going to expose Britney’s tie to the scheme.

  “So, he sat me down at his desk and told me that he had several Brazilian investors ready to invest as soon as the project was approved. The problem was it cost over one hundred thousand dollars to even get the permits submitted.”

  “You didn’t,” Britney said.

  Alexandra nodded. “I was still under his spell from the night before. Plus he said it would be less than six months to get the money back plus interest. He had just saved me ten times that, so I believed him.”

  “How long ago was that, Alex?” Maggie asked.

  “More than two years. He always had an excuse not to pay me back.”

  “Did you get anything on paper?” Britney asked.

  Alexandra just shook her head no. “For such a smart woman, I really can’t understand my lack of judgment,” she acknowledged. “And now I’ll never get my money back.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I don’t think you should be beating yourself up now…”

  “You’re the smartest woman I know,” Britney chimed in, “and your heart is your biggest asset. Does a hundred thousand dollars really make a difference to your life?”

  “Well, yes,” Alex said. “It does.”

  “Really?”

  “Okay, no. But I remember a time when I was a young woman who couldn’t put five dollars of gas in her car.”

  “We can hardly live in the past, and we all need to move forward from here.” Britney nodded firmly. “There’s no way to retaliate. Someone took out the trash for us.”

  Maggie smiled wide. “Did you really just say that?”

  “I did.”

  Maggie laughed. Then she said, “I’m hungry.”

  The car stopped in front of Capital Grill. And the three women got out and headed for the door, which was already being held open by one of the handsome young valet crew.

  They took seats at the high-top nearest the bar. It was a light crowd for happy hour, but the snowbirds were still up north. The girls still had a month or two to enjoy the lighter traffic and open tables.

  A server walked by with two bowls of the restaurant’s French onion soup.

  “I need some of that,” Maggie said.

  “This place has the best French onion soup I have ever had in my life,” Alex said.

  “I just need a drink,” Britney replied.

  And at that exact moment, Tyler, the bartender, appeared at Britney’s side.

  “What do you beautiful girls want to drink?” Tyler said, setting down three glasses of water.

  “Mojito,” Britney said.

  “Make that two,” Alex said.

  Maggie held up three fingers.

  “You got it!”

  All three ladies watched Tyler wal
k away until he disappeared behind the bar.

  “I went out with him,” Alex said.

  “Marco?” Maggie asked.

  “No.” Alex smiled. “Tyler, the bartender.”

  “What?” Britney returned Alex’s smile. “There’s so much we just don’t know about you, woman.”

  “How old is he?” Maggie asked.

  “Old enough,” Alex said, sipping her water. “Does it really matter?”

  “I’m so proud of you,” Britney said.

  “Age is just a number, girls. I was married faithfully for thirty-five years to the love of my life—but he’s gone. I finally realized that I’m not going to be here forever. I’m not wasting any good years I still have.”

  “You go girl,” Maggie said.

  As soon as Tyler set the drinks in front of the girls, they unwrapped the straws and began to sip.

  “I hate these stupid paper straws,” Maggie said.

  Alex agreed. “They melt too fast.”

  Britney reached into her bag, pulled out a light blue pouch. “Look at this.” She slipped out a glass straw with a metal Tiffany’s logo and plunked it into her drink.

  “Nice,” Maggie said, “but what if it breaks?”

  “Then you can’t use it,” Britney said. “I actually invented these things but waited too long to market it. Now they’re everywhere.”

  “I think it’s a fad…what’s the big deal about straws?” Maggie said.

  “Turtles,” Britney said.

  “What about the tops of water bottles or plastic sandwich bags?”

  “I suppose those are problems too—but I’m doing my part right here,” Britney said, holding up the glass straw.

  “What about you, Britney? Now that we both confessed,” Alex said.

  “Do I have to?”

  “Of course you do,” Alex said. “It can’t be worse than my story.”

  Britney sighed then dove right in: “So, I had just gotten home from an appointment in Miami, I barely had time to change my clothes, and there was a knock at the door. I looked at the security cameras and saw it was Marco. It actually caught me off guard, but I answered the door.

  He said he needed to talk to me about something important. I told him I had just gotten home and could we meet up at the club in an hour. He insisted it was urgent and just came in.

  “He picked up my dog and sat on the couch like he belonged there. I reluctantly sat too, facing him, and he starts telling me how he can’t trust anyone, how I was one of the only women he respects, blah blah blah.”

  Alex nodded. “Seriously,” she said, “those are the exact words he used on me.”

  “Anyway, he goes on and on until finally I say, ‘Marco, what do you want?’

  “He smiled and explained he needed to use my contractor license for a small project he was bidding on. It was a private school in Fort Lauderdale. He said it was short term and he would have it wrapped up in a month.”

  “What does he know about contracting?” Maggie asked.

  “I think we would be surprised at all the things he has a hand in,” Alex replied.

  Britney continued: “Well, I said no, but somehow he just kept on and on until I finally gave in.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Maggie said. “No way you folded that easy.”

  “I agree.” Alex nodded.

  “Okay…well…he had some information on a project I was working on. Actually. Alex, it’s the same project you invested in.”

  “Oh no,” Alex said.

  “You cannot say anything to anybody,” Britney said.

  “Of course,” Alex said. Maggie already knew the situation so she sat silent as Britney finished recounting it to Alex. Then she turned to Maggie. “Remember I told you about my friend Brandon who was in jail?”

  “Yes,” Maggie said.

  “Marco knew him…and he knew my connection to the Boca Palms Resort project,” Britney said. “He basically told me that if I didn’t let him use my license, he would expose the connection. I told him to F-off but he just laughed and gave me twenty-four hours. I called my dad, and I ended up letting him use the license.”

  “Why?” Maggie asked.

  “My dad said he would make sure nothing happened with my license. He has a contact at the county’s building department who could change the number on any permits submitted under my company name.”

  “I love it,” Alex said.

  “Did he use it?”

  “I don’t know what he used it for, but he never filed for any permits at the county, thank god. But he did get ten thousand dollars out of me.”

  “Of course he did,” Alex said. “That’s why we’re drinking.”

  Maggie was confused. She wondered whether Britney remembered she was at the meeting with her at the cigar bar…Which version of her story was the truth?

  “When I first moved here,” Maggie said, “Marco was one of the first people I met. He was really nice to me, and he seemed to have a big heart. When I needed help getting rid of all the old furniture that came with my house, he offered to haul it all away. It was nice stuff, just not my style. In fact, I’m sure it was much more expensive than what I replaced it with. He knew of some Guatemalan families who would love to have it, so he sent a couple guys over and they hauled it all away.”

  “He had his moments,” Alex said, nodding.

  “He actually helped me find a pool guy, landscaper, and a housekeeper,” Maggie acknowledged.

  “Ooohh, the housekeeper,” Britney said. “Maybe she’s our killer?”

  “She’s been out of the country,” Maggie said, “her daughter just had a baby.”

  “I think Jamaica or maybe New York,” Alex said.

  “Seriously? There is a big difference,” Britney said. “New York is just a few hours away.”

  “I know she’s from Jamaica and some family is in New York. I have a hard time understanding her accent. That’s why I take a book up to the club while she’s cleaning my house. Sometimes she just wants to chat, and those bathrooms don’t clean themselves.”

  “Ha ha ha,” Alex said, “I do the same thing.”

  “I just go to work,” Britney said.

  “Do you girls want to hear my Marco story?” Maggie asked the two women who were now staring at her.

  “Of course,” Alex said raising an eyebrow.

  “Well, Marco invited me to dinner at City Fish.”

  “And you went?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah, he caught me off guard and Marco is hard to say no to. He kind of didn’t ask but told me we were going.”

  “Definitely Marco’s style,” Alex said.

  “So, we get to City Fish and sit at one of the booths in the bar. I ordered a wine and had just opened the happy hour menu, and he ordered for both of us. I have to say that’s one thing I do not appreciate. I can order my own food. The server puts a basket of bread in front of us and, get this, he actually butters a piece and sits it on my plate.”

  “Some girls like that,” Britney said.

  “Not this girl,” Maggie said. “What am I, three?”

  “I drank my whole glass of wine and he ordered me another before the food even got there.” Maggie shook her head as she continued her story.

  “He was trying to get you drunk,” Britney said.

  “I drank three glasses, but he wasn’t dealing with an amateur. My wits were full intact. That is until we were back in my living room. He was telling me how he had a deal he was working on and it was in its final stages. He said I was one of the few people he could trust and he was thankful we had become such close friends. At that point, I was thinking he must not have any friends, because honestly, we hadn’t really ever had any in-depth conversations. During the previous week, he would text me and say stuff like, What’s up, good-looking? or How’s your day so far, beautiful?

  Honestly, I thought it a lame attempt at flirting. Now I see it was grooming me for this very evening. At this point I was ready to get into my comfy pajam
as, but he seemed to be oblivious and took a seat on the couch. He starts asking me personal questions about my family, my career…you know, that kind of stuff.

  I kept my answers short and kept yawning so he would get the hint. Finally, it came out, he wanted to ‘borrow’ twenty-five thousand dollars for a few weeks, possibly a month. I told him I didn’t have that kind of money. He said, how about a credit card? I told him I was right in the middle of remodeling, and I didn’t have much available balance.

  He says, ‘How much is that?’ I couldn’t think fast enough and said ten thousand dollars. ‘Perfect,’ he said. He actually pulled out his cell phone, attached some kind of swiper thing, and held out his hand. Stupid me, I dug out my wallet and handed him the card. Thank God, I didn’t tell him the truth. I don’t carry a balance on that card, and I’ve got all kinds of credit.”

  “How long ago was that?” Alex asked.

  “A year.”

  “Did you get any of it back?” Britney asked.

  “Did either of you?”

  “What a shithead,” Britney said.

  “What I don’t understand is where did all the money go?” Alex asked. “He drove a five-year-old Cadillac and didn’t have anything fancy. He bought his suits at Men’s Warehouse.”

  “Maybe he had a gambling problem?” Maggie suggested.

  “Nah,” Britney said. “I think we would know that…but I can ask my dad.”

  “I think he might be stashing it in Brazil,” Alex said.

  “But why?” Britney asked.

  Maggie agreed. “Who would want to live there?” she said.

  “It’s not too bad if you have money,” Alex replied. “Plus he grew up there.”

  “If he was doing something illegal, wouldn’t he have been extradited?” Maggie asked.

  “Brazil does not extradite their citizens,” Alex said. “He had a Brazilian passport. Since he was born there, he has dual citizenship. I think the worse that could happen would be they might have revoked his American passport.”

  “Interesting,” Britney said.

  “We should take a trip to Brazil,” Maggie said, “check it out.”

  “I don’t think so.” Alex shook her head. “It’s not Kansas, Dorothy.”

  A silence fell over the table. Maggie thought for a moment; then she pulled from her purse the report Rodney had produced for her of the cars entering the gates of the country club the night of the murder. “I have to show you this. Look who came in twice the night Marco died.”