Maggie moved her drink aside and set the paper in the middle of the table. She put her finger on a name.
“Marco?” Britney said, confused.
“Not Marco. Angie. The Toyota is her car…but since Marco is the member, it’s listed under his name. Anyway, look at the time. She came in at 12:15 a.m. and then again at 4:30.”
“Unbelievable. I wonder if the police ever got this log?” Alex asked.
“I’m sure they have it,” Britney said, “but I wonder why she hasn’t been arrested. It’s obvious she killed him…but how did she think she could get away with it?”
“It’s not obvious, maybe someone else was driving her car,” Maggie said.
“Like who?” Britney asked.
Alex said, “Preston, her ex. Maybe he had a set of keys.”
“Now we have a real suspect,” Maggie said.
Alex nodded. “Let’s call Angie.”
“I’ll do it.” Maggie pulled out her phone to text Rodney.
Maggie: Hey do you have Angie’s number?
Rodney: Hey? No hello…how are you…how is it going?
Maggie: Hello Rodney, how is it going?
Rodney: Thanks for asking. I’m doing great. Are you free for lunch tomorrow?
Maggie: Seriously?
Rodney: I just sent Angie’s contact info and yeah seriously. There is a wine tasting event Friday at the club. Interested?
Maggie: Thanks for the invite but I think we already have a table.
Rodney: Cool. I will join you.
“Oh Lord,” Maggie said out loud.
“What?” Alex said.
“Rodney’s joining us at wine night.”
“Fine with me,” Alex said. “I’ll add him to our reservation.”
Maggie found the contact image and selected Angie’s cell number. Surprisingly, she answered on the second ring. Maggie chatted a few minutes before finally asking if they could all meet. She nodded her head a few times before hanging up.
“She’ll meet us tonight at the casino,” Maggie said, putting her phone down.
“Here we go,” Britney said with a big smile.
Chapter 19
Strawberry Daiquiri
The casino was only twenty minutes from the compound so the girls decided to arrive early, have a few drinks, and feed the machines. The gaming floor was crowded and noisy. Maggie was not a big fan of crowds but followed Britney into the center of the action. She quickly pulled a Benjamin out of her pocketbook and slid it into a machine then started pushing buttons.
Maggie fished out a twenty-dollar bill and slid it into the machine next to Britney. Alex stood back and watched. Maggie pushed the button a few times until no more credits were left.
“That was fast.”
Just then Britney’s machine lit up, blasting all kinds of musical noises and attracting the attention from all those around her.
“You just won, fifteen hundred dollars,” Alex said.
Maggie said, “Of course she did.”
“I’m cashing out,” Britney calmly announced. She pushed a button…The sound of money dropping into a tin can replaced the music. The dispensing of Britney’s winnings went on for much too long, so Alex reached over and hit another button to stop it. The total showed, and a thin slip of paper came rolling out of a slot in the machine. Britney grabbed it and walked to the cashier’s desk, holding the note proudly.
“Drinks on me,” she said, coming back to the girls and holding fifteen crisp one hundred dollar bills.
“Let’s go find Angie,” Maggie said.
They found Angie dealing the high rollers at the $100 table. Her normal polite smile was strained, and her face was pale with dark circles under her eyes. She looked ten years older than she actually was. She spotted the three women, who hung back but watched the high stakes bets being made.
“Who can afford to play a hundred dollars at a time?” Maggie asked.
“That’s the minimum bid.” Alex nodded to one of the other players. “Take a look at the gentleman at the end, those aren’t one hundred dollar chips, more like one thousand dollar chips, and he has a healthy stack in front of him.”
“Look at all the players sitting there.” Maggie watched the table incredulously. “Not one of them has just one chip.”
“What if someone just came up and took one?” Britney said.
“There are cameras everywhere in this place,” Alex explained, “they are very serious about their money.”
“Damn, who are these guys?” Britney said. “We need to hang out here more often.”
“I would bet most of the high rollers come from other countries,” Alex said.
They continued to watch until Angie handed off her post to another very pretty dealer and signaled them to follow her. Maggie noticed two big guys—bouncers, she assumed—standing behind the card table, watching them closely as they left the high roller area.
“That was kind of intimidating,” Maggie said.
“Yeah, don’t let it bother you,” Angie said as she joined them. “That’s their job.”
She led them into an open bar area, where she spotted a corner table away from any other patrons. She signaled the women to take a seat as she claimed the one closest to the wall, facing the door.
Angie ordered an iced tea. The other three women took Angie’s recommendation of the strawberry daiquiris.
“They use real strawberries,” Angie said. “It’s more like a smoothie than a drink. I would have one, but I still have another session before the end of my shift.”
“Do you get off the same time every night?” Alex asked.
“Pretty much, the weekends a little later.” She winked at the girls. “Obviously, those are my best nights.”
“The night Marco died, did you work a regular shift?” Maggie asked.
“We have this.” Britney placed the gate report on the table before Angie had the chance to answer. Two lines were highlighted.
Angie coolly sipped her iced tea. “I told that detective, I was here until the end of my shift.”
“Did you lend your car to anyone?” Alex asked.
Angie’s face turned pale. “No, I didn’t,” she said in a low voice. She paused then turned to see who was sitting close by. Then she turned back to Alex. “It was Preston,” she said. “He stole my car to get into the gate.”
“Oh. My. God. Angie, did you tell the police?” Britney asked.
“Oh hell no. Preston would kill me. Plus, I’m sure he didn’t kill my brother.”
“How do you know?” Maggie asked.
“He told me,” Angie said.
“And why would you believe him?” Britney said.
“He is an idiot, not a killer—and he said Marco was already dead when he got there. He had an extra set of keys that I didn’t know about, but when the cops said I drove in twice, I knew exactly who took my car. When I asked Preston why he went there, he told me he went to steal my wedding ring; but he said he got out of there when he saw Marco lying on the floor, dead. He wouldn’t have found the ring anyway. I was wearing it.” Angie held up her left hand, displaying to the ladies a simple one diamond setting.
“But honestly,” Angie continued, “the ring was not the reason he went there, it’s not even real. I knew it was a fake diamond when he gave it to me. The gold is poor quality, I doubt he could get fifty bucks for it. I believe the real reason he went to Marco’s that night was to either borrow money, or steal it. He definitely didn’t want Marco dead: he was his only source of cash. He hasn’t worked for over a year except for odd jobs Marco provided, which was mostly following people around or threatening them.”
“Maybe he killed him by accident,” Maggie said.
“I’m telling you, he didn’t kill him. I’m one hundred percent positive,” Angie said.
“Why are you wearing your wedding ring?” Britney asked.
“Keeps the weirdos to a minimum,” Angie replied.
“Makes sense, I guess,” Britney said
. “But it seems like your tips might be bigger without it.”
“Just the opposite, I’m afraid. I think most people, male or female, want what they can’t have.”
“What did the detective say about your car and the gate?” Alex asked.
“The police checked the security cameras at the casino; they showed I was at the table all night. I only took two breaks—and there’s no way I could have driven all the way home and back in fifteen minutes. The cops are just assuming the club’s bar code system is a piece of shit. They found several misreads,” Angie said.
“Aren’t there cameras in the casino parking lot?” Alex asked.
Angie nodded. “Yeah, but I park in the employee section behind the casino, and they only keep those recordings forty-eight hours. It’s on a loop. The only time they might keep a recording is if there is an actual problem. But security always walks us out at the end of our shift. My car was right where I left it.”
“Not really my business, but why are you still married to Preston?” Alex asked.
“I don’t have enough money to get a divorce.” Angie shook her head in frustration. “Marco was going to help me pay a lawyer but kept putting it off until…well, you know.”
“I actually saw Preston and Dale at O’Malley’s last week,” Britney put in. “They were so obnoxious they were eighty-sixed.” She laughed. “You have to be really bad to get kicked out of O’Malley’s.”
“Those two are no good apart,” Angie said, “but together they’re definitely trouble. As a matter of fact, you won’t believe the latest scheme they’ve come up with….”
“Do tell,” Maggie encouraged.
“I have to get back to my table,” Angie noted, “but the night Marco was killed, after the police left, I noticed Marco’s desk was a mess. Normally it’s stacked high but in an orderly fashion…Someone definitely went through my brother’s desk and stole a life insurance policy.”
“Are you sure?” Alex asked.
“Very sure, because I put it on top of the pile after I secretly made a copy.”
Alex almost came out of her seat. “You have a copy?”
“Yeah, Marco told me he changed the beneficiary and said I would be happy. So I took it to work and made a copy then put it back before he knew it was gone. Now he’s dead and I have no idea what to do about it.”
Alex stared quietly into Angie’s eyes. “I have an attorney who can handle everything.”
“I don’t have any money to pay a lawyer,” Angie said, getting up from her seat.
“Don’t worry about the money,” Alex told her.
Angie nodded gratefully but said, “I really have to go. How about we meet at O’Malley’s tomorrow when I can actually have a drink. I’ll bring the policy, it’s a lot of money.”
“Definitely,” Britney said. “How about five-ish?”
“Perfect.” She polished off her iced tea then nodded to the three women. “See you ladies tomorrow.”
The three women sat speechless, processing the information they had just heard.
*
As soon as Maggie got home from the casino she texted Detective Marker and waited for a response. Instead, her phone rang, and she quickly picked it up.
“What’s up?” Mike asked.
“I think we figured out who killed Marco.”
Maggie heard Mike sigh loudly. “Seriously, Maggie, I thought I told you to stop. Do you really want to end up in handcuffs?”
“Well, if that’s what you’re into detective….” She had said jokingly, but it came out sounding strange. Had she really just said that?
“Okay…” Mike paused to work through what she had just suggested before switching back to his professional mode. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell me what you think you have.”
“Angie told us that Marco had a life insurance policy—and guess who the beneficiary was?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” Mike said.
“Angie,” Maggie said excitedly. “She isn’t divorced yet, so if Preston killed him, he would get half the money.”
“That’s not how life insurance works.”
“What do you mean?” Maggie said. “Isn’t Florida a fifty-fifty state?”
“Divorce laws are complicated; but what I do know is the proceeds of a life insurance policy go to the beneficiary, the spouse has no claim on it.”
“Well, maybe Preston doesn’t know that,” Maggie suggested. “He is sort of an idiot.”
“I’ll look into it,” Mike said after a moment, “but I have a pretty good gut instinct on these things, being a detective and all, and my gut says he didn’t do it.”
“Okay.” Maggie was not going to argue with him any longer. “I just thought I would let you know what I found out.”
“I’m going to tell you one last time,” Mike said, letting out another loud sigh, “stay out of my investigation.”
“If I find out something, by accident, you don’t want me to tell you?”
“I would rather you don’t find out anything…but if you do of course I want you to tell me. But no digging for it,” Mike said, “do you understand?”
Maggie nodded, though she knew Mike could not see her. “I understand.”
“Have you started your classes yet?” Mike asked.
His question caught Maggie by surprise. “What do mean? Or how did you know?”
“Good night, Maggie,” he said. “Lock your doors.”
“Good night, detective,” she said. “I always lock my doors.”
She hung up her phone.
Exhausted, she went into her room and changed into her sweats and a comfy shirt. Then she poured herself a glass of wine and turned on Netflix. But before she settled in she walked over to the front door and found it was indeed unlocked, so she flipped the lever.
“Jerk,” she mumbled with a smile.
Chapter 20
Cosmopolitan
The pickle ball courts were the newest addition at the country club, so both courts were full most of the time, but the ladies took their chances and met up there. As they suspected, both courts were full, so they decided to sip the cosmos Fonzie had prepared for them in Styrofoam cups, while watching the oldies run the court.
“Angie is running late,” Maggie said, looking down at her phone. “She’ll meet us at O’Malley’s at six.”
“I wonder what that life insurance thing is about?” Britney asked.
“I can’t wait to find out how much it’s worth. I’ll bet it’s a million,” Maggie said. “it’s almost five now, should we go change?”
“I’m wearing what I have on,” Britney said confidently, as she should have been. She was wearing a pink and white tennis dress that showed off her form perfectly. She also sported short socks and matching Nikes. Her hair was pulled back in a blond ponytail. She looked like Tennis Barbie.
“I’m wearing this,” Maggie said, looking down at her black stretch shorts and an over- sized T-shirt. “It’s just O’Malley’s.
“Well, I’m changing,” Alex said. “You girls wait here and I’ll bring my car around and drive us.”
“Sounds good to me,” Maggie said.
Maggie and Britney watched Alexandra drive away on her cart. “Let’s go to the bar,” Britney said, “she’s going to be a few minutes. We can get Fonzie to make us a ‘to go.’ ”
“I just love that woman,” Britney said, hopping into Maggie’s cart.
“Me, too.”
“Has she ever told you the story of ‘the guy,’ her first real love?”
Maggie shook her head. “No.”
“It was a guy in New York, he was connected, if you know what I mean.”
“Really?”
“He’s the one who encouraged her to start her own business.”
“When I first met her, she said she was a schoolteacher,” Maggie said.
“That’s what she told me too,” Britney said. “I think she feels like people will treat her differently if they know how successful
she really is or who her family is.”
“Who is her family?” Maggie asked.
“I’m not sure, but they’re also connected. When she got pregnant, her family pretty much disowned her.”
“She always talks about her son,” Maggie said, “I just assumed he was the biological child of her husband.”
“The ‘guy’ is the son’s father. She’s never said his name. She always just refers to him as ‘the guy.’ ”
“Interesting.”
“Anyway, he broke up with her but made sure to keep an eye on her throughout her life.”
“Why did he break up with her?”
“He was married and very high up in the ‘organization.’ ”
Maggie frowned. “That sucks for her.”
“Not really, because she met her husband Ira and had thirty amazing years before he died.”
“Alex was actually nicknamed Mistress of the Mob,” Maggie said, smiling.
“I can’t believe she never told me any of that,” Britney said. Then she pointed toward the cart barn. “Check that out.”
Maggie stopped and pulled over. They watched as Alex and Fonzie stood face to face in the breezeway between the clubhouse and the cart barn. Alex was frantically waving her arms, Fonzie was backed up against the breezeway wall. Maggie couldn’t hear the conversation, but it was definitely heated. However, it wasn’t long before the altercation was over. The two women watched Fonzie disappear into the back door of the clubhouse, his head hanging low. Alex took off in her cart, never spotting Maggie and Britney.
“I wonder what that was all about?”
Maggie watched as Alex headed the opposite direction of her home.
“I’ve never seen Alex lose her cool, ever,” Britney said.
“Yeah…something is definitely up,” Maggie agreed.
When they reached the bar, Fonzie looked and acted perfectly normal.
Behind The Gates (A Maggie McFarlin Mystery Book 1) Page 18