Hotter than Helen (The Bobby's Diner Series)

by Wingate, Susan

  “Shall we, dear?” Willy gestured with one arm in the direction of Roberta and Rick.

  “Absolutely.” Georgette turned to pick up her big straw tote bag sitting next to her foot on the deck. She didn’t notice the man there all clad in platinum white—white jacket, white pants, white shoes and even a white hat, a felt trilby.

  As they stepped out onto the deck, the white man clipped her elbow, knocking her hard into the starboard railing.

  “Oh my!” She barely caught herself against the metal bar rail.

  “Excuse me, ma’am.” He tipped his hat.

  Recovering from the railing, she replied. “Not a problem. I must’ve stepped into you.”

  “Hey, buddy.” Willy immediately got angry, stepping in toward the man.

  “It was an accident, Willy.” She pulled his arm back into her. “It’s okay.”

  “Only an accident. My apologies, ma’am.” His sharp black eyes danced between them and Georgette thought she recognized him.

  “Do I know…” But before she could ask, he sauntered off, tipping his white hat again.

  “The rude bastard.”

  “Willy. He apologized. It was just an accident.”

  “You okay?”

  “Of course, Willy. It was just a bump.”

  He grabbed the arm she fell on. As Willy checked Georgette, she looked over her shoulder to find the man who had, she thought, been looking in their direction, too. But, then, he disappeared among a throng of other passengers and she lost sight of him.

  “Oh, honey. I’m fine. Let’s go find Rob and Rick.”

  She picked up her bag and hooked her arm in Willy’s. They headed toward the cocktail lounge but really, they were headed into a new adventure.

  43

  “What’s this guy’s name again?”

  “Melvin Taggert, AKA Martin Tanner.” Caimen rubbed a hand over the tiny pin curls of his hair. Specks of gray were beginning to betray him, giving away his age, about mid-forty, Pinzer figured.

  “No, can’t say that I have ever heard of him.” It was true. He had never heard of anyone named Melvin Taggert, or any Martin Tanner, for that matter.

  Pinzer sat back against the cool metal frame of the chair and crossed his legs, adjusting the pant leg of his government-issue orange overall and sliding the chair back a few inches in the process. The caged room echoed as the chair grated over the concrete floor. He stared across the faux marble table at Assistant District Attorney Clark Caimen, who looked two beats away from heart failure.

  Pinzer held his manacled hands loosely in his lap and interlocked his fingers.

  “He says you hired him.” Caimen adjusted his round wire-framed glasses pushing them up the bridge of his nose. A tell to Pinzer.

  “News to me.” He looked over to his lawyer who shrugged.

  “Look, he answered you. He doesn’t know Mr. Taggert. What kind of evidence do you have, Mr. Caimen?” Ruckheimer, Pinzer’s lawyer, chimed in.

  “This guy’s testimony.”

  “Again, sir, do you have any evidence linking Taggert to my client, any corroborating evidence?” Ruckheimer set his tone, pressing Caimen.

  “Says you hired a certain, Mr. Hawthorne Biggs.” Caimen looked away from Ruckheimer and back to Pinzer for the answer.

  “I never hired any Hawthorne Biggs.” Pinzer sniggered. Tweeter, Pinzer’s henchman from before, had hired some guy and he figured Biggs was his alias, but he wasn’t about to offer that information to the ADA.

  “This guy says a lot of things, I hear. Sounds like the man has lost it. Spewing some craziness about a golf course, about some evidence there, while at the same time pointing the finger here at this innocent man.” Ruckmeier indicated Pinzer, who tipped his head to the side trying to look the part. “Isn’t this Taggert being held, as we speak, at the Arizona State Hospital? For observation? Really, counselor. Is this the best witness you have?”

  Ruckheimer leaned in, whispering into Pinzer’s ear. Pinzer pulled back and stared at him, no more two inches from Ruckheimer. Up that close, the oil beading off the lawyer’s nose looked like a slick. It flowed completely across his jowled jaws and up over his waning hairline which made a wide cay of skin on top of his head. He wouldn’t have hired the guy if he’d seen him first. He came with recommendations. Heard he was the best. It didn’t mean Pinzer had to like the guy. Before coming in to the meeting, Ruckheimer must’ve had coffee and a cigarette. A clear ashtray scent rose off the greasy sweat covering his mouth. Pinzer closed the gap, getting closer to his ear than his lips and whispered into the lawyer’s ear. Then he pulled away and looked again at the ADA.

  “My client knows no one by the name of Hawthorne Biggs and has nothing to offer, that is, unless you do.”

  “We’ll drop the current two-years to eighteen months.”

  Ruckheimer smiled and dragged out a thin cloth from his chest pocket. He wiped it over his mouth, around his nose and quickly after that around in two circles covering his entire face. “So, it’s Let’s Make a Deal time, is it?” Ruckheimer’s smile broadened and he leaned forward over the table placing both hands flat on it. “Sounds like this Taggert guy is part of the investigation at this point. He has nothing to clear him except some fiction about my client’s involvement.”

  The ADA didn’t move. He looked like a mannequin sitting there, not flinching, hardly breathing, waiting.

  “Okay, Caimen. This is my offer. Time served and he’s out end of business tomorrow.”

  “Time served and six months.”

  “Time served, six months house arrest.”

  Caimen paused and looked at his watch. “We’ll have the paperwork drawn up and to your office by the end of the week.”

  Ruckheimer countered. “By the end of business tomorrow.”

  “Deal. So spill it. How is Taggert involved.”

  Pinzer’s lawyer nodded to him. Pinzer sat forward. “This is just a guess, but if you do some checking I bet Biggs isn’t this guy’s real name. Maybe it’s short for something, maybe Biganski. I don’t know. It’s a guess, mind you. Maybe this Taggert fellow and he were involved, but, like I said, it’s just a guess. I don’t know them nor have I ever met either one.” He knew they had no evidence linking Biganski to him or they would’ve played that hand by now.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Well, gentlemen.” Ruckheimer slapped his beefy hands together, rubbing them hard as he looked back and forth between Pinzer and Caimen. “It’s always a pleasure, counselor.” A statement held out for the winning side, Ruckheimer slid back into his chair then slammed his fists onto the table top before standing and extending his hand to shake.

  “Yes, well. The pleasure is mine.” The words churned out of Caimen’s lips. His eyes looked sullen and sour. He extended a limp arm and shook quickly, one pump down, then released Ruckheimer. He had gotten nothing linking Biggs or Taggert to Pinzer.

  “Tomorrow, then.”

  Caimen nodded at Ruckheimer, collected his briefcase and called the guard to open the room.

  Ruckheimer put a finger to his mouth to make sure Pinzer wouldn’t say anything until he was gone.

  “Actually, four o’clock would be better. We could expedite the release of my client by end of the day.”

  The door swung open where a guard stood. Caimen turned back and glared at Ruckheimer.

  “We’ll see what we can do.” With that Caimen left.

  “Please, my client and I have more work.” Pinzer’s lawyer told the guard. After the door closed again, he spoke. “You’ll be out tomorrow, Zach.” Ruckheimer, pleased with his performance, smiling wide, was always looking for approval from his clients.

  It irked Zach.

  “That’s what I pay you for, Wallace. Try to remember that.” Ruckheimer’s smile dissolved into a thin line that traced the distinction between client and attorney confidentiality. “Yes, well. Shall I have a car come by to pick you up?”

  “I’ve got it from here, Wallace.”

  �
�So, what’s the first thing you’ll do as a free man?” Ruckheimer asked more out of curiosity than because he cared about Pinzer.

  “Well, Wallace. I hear the Caribbean is beautiful, especially Aruba.” His right lip curled into a half-smile. “I’m thinking about taking a cruise.” He turned and gazed through the room’s only window, through its bars, past the cinder tarmac of the institutional parking lot, past the street lights, past the city. He stared thousands of miles off to the ocean.

  “You’ll still be under house arrest which means…” But Pinzer cut him off.

  “I know what house arrest means, Wallace. My ankle bracelet has GPS. It can’t leave the house.”

  “It can’t leave?” Ruckheimer glared at Pinzer. “I don’t want to know any more of your plans, Zach. Just watch yourself.” Understanding the meeting was over, Ruckheimer offered an open hand for Pinzer to shake, but Pinzer acted as if the shackles made it impossible for him to do so.

  Ruckheimer snuck back his hand, dropping his arm to his side. Then he gathered his files and briefcase and called for the guard.

  Pinzer had a plan for the ankle bracelet. He also had a needy girlfriend who would do anything for him. She had pretty legs. The bracelet would look nice on her.

  THE END

  If you enjoyed this story, please read the first book of the Bobby’s Diner series entitled, Bobby’s Diner.

  You can find that and Susan Wingate’s other books at the following:

  Susan’s website: http://www.susanwingate.com

  Susan’s Amazon store: http://astore.amazon.com/theoffwebo03e-20 or

  Susan’s Barnes&Noble store: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/susan-wingate

  To keep up on Susan Wingate’s activities, visit her at:

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  About the Author

  SUSAN WINGATE’s poem entitled “The Dance of Wind in Trees” has been published in the April 2013 issue of the Virginia Quarterly Review.

  Susan’s award-winning, Amazon best seller, DROWNING is now available in audio book version. Book No. 1 in the “Susie Speider” YA Fiction Series is Available Now through Astraea Press and on Amazon. In 2012, two of Susan’s books made it onto the Top 10 Amazon Best Seller list, twice.

  DROWNING (contemporary women’s fiction) won 1st place in the 2011 Forward National Literature Award for the category of Drama. DROWNING also won a finalist award for the category of Women’s Fiction/Chick Lit in the 2011 International Book Awards and reached #1 on the Amazon’s Best Seller list.

  A vibrant public speaker, Susan offers inspiring, motivational talks about the craft of writing, publishing and marketing, and how to survive this extremely volatile ePublishing industry. She presents these lectures at writing conferences, libraries and book stores around the country. She also loves to visit with book clubs for more intimate chats.