Deadly Ruse

by E. Michael Helms

  When she was finished, Isabella gave my rear a playful slap. “You may turn over now, please. Do not worry, I will not look.” She held the towel up and turned her head. I flipped over onto my back, and she dropped the towel across my body and then folded it from top and bottom until only my nether region was covered. I hadn’t been so relaxed since my company spearheaded the assault into the Julan District during the fight for Fallujah in November of ’04.

  Isabella grabbed the oil and went to work on my thighs, stroking and kneading her way down both legs and even tweaking my toes. I’d had the advantage of not being able to see Isabella perform her magic while I was sprawled on my stomach, but now my eyes joined the adventure. I felt myself stir as she leaned over me, those smooth, strong hands gliding up and down my thighs, and her breasts jiggling enticingly in the process. A couple of times she came close but somehow managed not to allow them to brush against me. I turned my eyes away and tried to concentrate on the jazz. This was one time I sure as hell hoped I wouldn’t rise to the occasion.

  The situation was in grave doubt by the time Isabella folded the towel to one side, exposing my inner thigh. The family heirlooms were barely covered as she worked the muscles around my groin. I felt a throb and clenched my jaw tight to avoid snapping to attention. Isabella’s eyes met mine and she smiled. “You are having a very hard time relaxing, Andrew,” she said, and winked.

  Isabella finally moved away from the danger zone and completed my relaxing and beneficial complimentary massage by working over my arms, shoulders, and neck. After a quick rubdown with a clean towel to remove any excess traces of oil, she excused herself so I could get dressed in the privacy of my own presence.

  As soon as the door shut I grabbed my skivvies and set a new personal record for throwing on my clothes. Safely covered, I collapsed into a chair and waited. In a few minutes Isabella returned. She was wearing a bathrobe and carrying a round serving tray with two rock glasses half-filled with ice and what I guessed was Scotch.

  She smiled and handed me one of the drinks. “Maryann said this is... how do you say... on the house.” She chose the chair next to mine, sat with her legs tucked underneath, and turned to face me. “I hope you do not mind that I join you. You are my last customer today, and Maryann said it would be proper.”

  I took “proper” to mean okay or all right. “Be my guest.” I was beginning to wonder if this whole massage routine was strictly on the up-and-up, no pun intended.

  Isabella took a sip of her drink and swirled the ice around the glass. “You are here with your wife and family, Andrew?”

  “No, it’s just little ol’ me. I’ve been divorced for a while now.”

  She arched one eyebrow again. “I see. I too was married long ago, but I was very young and it did not work out well.”

  What were you, twelve? I wondered. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Isabella sighed. “Yes, it is very sad when love does not last. Where is your home, Andrew?”

  “North Carolina.” I wasn’t really lying. I was born in the Tar Heel State and had lived the majority of my life there. I decided to play along a while longer. “Where do you hail from, Isabella?”

  She looked a little confused for a moment and then touched the hollow of her throat. “My home? I am from the city of San Jose del Cabo. You have heard of it?”

  “I think so. It’s on the Baja Peninsula, in Mexico, right?”

  Isabella seemed pleased. “Sí, yes. I see you are a student of geography.”

  I smiled. “Let’s just say I get by. So, how did you wind up in the States?”

  Isabella sipped her drink and shifted in the chair. The top of her robe parted, but she was quick to raise a hand to close it. “I am here as a student at the university in Tallahassee. I wish to earn my degree in fitness management.”

  “Ah, a Florida State Seminole.”

  She smiled and raised an arm and gave the tomahawk chop. “Yes, go ’Noles!”

  I laughed with her and then glanced at my watch. “Sorry, but I need to get going.”

  Isabella’s lips formed a pout. “You must?”

  “Yeah, I’ve got an appointment.”

  “With a lady friend?”

  I gulped down the rest of my Scotch and gave her a wink. “It’s business.” I stood and handed the glass to Isabella and reached for my wallet.

  Isabella got up and set the glasses on the tray in the chair next to her. She placed a hand on my forearm. “Thank you, Andrew. I do not often have the chance for talk. You must come again and try one of our finer massages. It will relieve you of all your tension, and I know you will enjoy it very much.”

  I tossed a twenty on the tray. “I might just do that. Can I ask for you?”

  She smiled. “I will be very sad if you do not.”

  CHAPTER 26

  That evening I was at the Polynesian Royale feasting on a medium-rare rib eye and roasted potatoes when Alice Spence walked up to my table. “Hello, Mac, imagine meeting you here!”

  I managed to finish swallowing a bite of steak without requiring the Heimlich maneuver. She was wearing a teal suit with a knee-length skirt and a belted jacket with a loose, ruffled collar. A small matching purse was clutched in her left hand. Even dressed for business, Alice was stunning. I stood, and we shook hands and exchanged the usual pleasantries. “Have a seat,” I said, motioning to the chair across from me. She took me up on the offer, and I remembered my manners just in time to hurry around the table and hold the chair for her. “Can I order something for you?” My mind was racing trying to come up with an excuse for what I was doing here.

  “I can’t stay long, but a drink would be nice.” She waggled a perfectly manicured finger at my Dewar’s. Her nail polish matched the suit. “What are you having?”

  “Scotch.”

  “Then I’ll join you.”

  I got the waitress’s attention and ordered a Dewar’s on the rocks for Alice and a double for me. Meanwhile, the old lightbulb flashed on and I had my excuse. I just hoped Alice would buy it.

  “So, what brings you to the Palmetto Royale, Mac?”

  I took a sip of Scotch to wet my whistle. “My ex-wife,” I said. “Actually, my ex and her fiancé. They were planning on spending a long weekend at the resort. We were supposed to meet to talk over some family matters. Money and the kids and that kind of boring stuff. I thought I’d make it convenient and get a room here for a couple of days and do a little relaxing myself. But it looks like I’ve been stood up.”

  Alice smiled and swept a strawberry-blonde strand from her eyes. “How nice the two of you can get along so well.”

  “Yeah, just one big happy family.”

  She caught the sarcasm in my voice and offered a little laugh. “And I suppose you want to know why I’m here?”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  The waitress brought our drinks. Alice took a sip of Dewar’s, held the glass to one side, and smiled. She took another little taste and set the glass down. “It just so happens I own an investment company, and the Palmetto Royale is part of our portfolio. We’re having a board meeting tomorrow here at the resort. Surprised?”

  I figured that last word was a test. “A woman of your education and talent? Not at all.”

  Alice sipped more Scotch and put on yet another smile. “Miss Lettie told me you dropped by the house last week. I’m sorry I missed you.”

  Oops, another red flag. I decided I’d try a little schmoozing of my own to cover my tail. “I’m sorry I missed you, too. I was in the area on business for Frank Hightower and thought I’d take a chance and drop by to say hello. I was hoping you could suggest a nice restaurant and do me the honor of joining me for dinner.”

  “Aren’t you ever the charmer? But tell me, do you always go snooping around people’s backyards when you find out they’re not home?”

  I felt like somebody had jerked my swimsuit down around my ankles and left me standing butt-naked on a crowded beach. “Miss Lettie ratted on m
e, huh?”

  “Of course she did.”

  My mind was whirring. “Okay, I stand guilty as charged. To be honest, I couldn’t quite get you off my mind after we met, so I searched online for your name and found the lifestyles feature the Journal-Constitution ran on you and your mansion. I know I should’ve asked Lettie’s permission, but since you weren’t home I thought I’d go ahead and take a firsthand look at some of the scenery I saw in the article. You have a very beautiful place.”

  Alice pursed her lips and then her face relaxed. I had a hunch she wasn’t buying much, if any, of the BS explanation I was feeding her. “I suppose I should be flattered, shouldn’t I? But what about Kate... Bell, isn’t it? I thought you two were an item.”

  “We’re friends, that’s all.”

  A good imitation of the Mona Lisa spread across Alice’s face. “I see.” She took another drink and glanced at her gold wristwatch. “I hate to run, Mac, but I have a meeting in ten minutes. It was certainly nice seeing you again. Thank you for the drink.” She grabbed her purse and made a move to stand, and then hesitated. “Oh, and if you’re ever in Atlanta on business again, try calling first.”

  I started to get up to help Alice with the chair, but her back was to me before my knees straightened out.

  As soon as I got back to my room I gave Frank a call. “How’s lover-boy doing?”

  “I’m parked a half block down the street from his girlfriend’s house as we talk. According to his wife he’s supposed to be on duty tonight.”

  “Some duty. I just had an interesting conversation with Alice Spence.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. I was having supper and she walked right up to my table. Quite a coincidence, huh?”

  “I’d say you’re a marked man.”

  “No argument here. I fed Alice a cock-and-bull story about meeting my ex-wife and her fiancé at the resort this weekend to settle some family matters. She played along like she believed me, but I wouldn’t bet my last three-dollar bill on it. Alice volunteered that she owns an investment company, and the Palmetto Royale is one of their properties. She also said she was here because they’re holding a board meeting tomorrow. That little tidbit checks out with what my new contact said.”

  “New contact?”

  “Yeah. I’ll get to that in a minute. Guess who else I happened to run into?”

  “Wes Harrison?”

  “No, but I’ll get to him later, too. David Garrett.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope. He just happened to be sitting across from me at this tiki bar out by the pool where I stopped for a beer. He was half plastered and kept hitting on a couple of women and making a general ass of himself. I asked the girl tending bar if she knew who he was, and she said his name was Garrett, and that she’d heard he was one of the owners of the place.”

  “And this bartender just happens to be your new contact.”

  “Still sharp as a tack, Frank.”

  “What makes you think you can trust her, Mac? She could be in on it and working to set you up.”

  “That crossed my mind until we met this morning at her house. She’s a single mother living with her aunt and little boy in Parkersville. She ID’d Alice immediately from the photos, and she’s heard through the grapevine that Alice is the big cheese at the Palmetto Royale. She also recognized Wes Harrison from the composite you worked up. She knows him as Mr. Weston, no known first name. She said the hairstyle was wrong and that he didn’t have the funny-looking eyes, but she was pretty sure it was him. And, she saw Alice and Harrison coming out of the resort office together a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Wait a minute. Weston? Isn’t that—”

  “Yeah, it’s Harrison’s real first name. The guy’s either not very inventive or he’s flat-out stupid.”

  “Okay, Mac, so we know that Alice, by her own admission, owns a big slice of the Palmetto Royale, and that they’re holding a board meeting there this weekend. That’s SOP for practically all corporate-owned businesses. And we already knew Garrett is in on the deal, so it makes perfect sense for him to be there, too. Wes Harrison may or may not be in the picture. ‘Pretty sure’ doesn’t constitute a positive ID. It seems like all your new contact has accomplished is to back up facts that you received directly from Alice.”

  “There’s more, Frank, and I’ll cut right to the bone. My contact thinks somebody is dealing drugs from the resort. She said that whoever’s running the show is recruiting certain people, mostly good-looking young women, to help sell their wares.”

  “You don’t think Spence and Harrison are involved, do you?”

  “No way, this is small potatoes. They stand to lose too much to risk that. My girl thinks the perps are employees at the resort trying to make some extra money on the side using the Royale’s clientele. Not bad waters to go fishing in with all the money and other niceties flowing around this place.”

  “And just where did this contact of yours come up with all this information? I doubt the resort has it listed in their brochure under ‘activities’ or ‘things not to miss during your stay.’”

  “One of the girls involved in dealing tried to get my contact to enlist. My girl’s a single mother and wanted no part of it. She told me meth just happens to be on the menu, along with other junk. Does that ring any bells?”

  “Yeah, the raid on that house in St. George your other contact tipped you off about. They turned up a meth lab, right?”

  “Right. And don’t forget that the Tyson girl who went missing was a student driving a fancy car with no apparent job to pay for it. My guess is she was shopping her wares at college.”

  “Hmm. As Arte Johnson used to say, ‘Verrry in-ter-est-ing.’”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind, he was before your time. Where do we go from here?”

  “My contact wants my help. She’s afraid to get involved or go to the cops because of her son and the risk of losing her job. I told her I’d see what I could do, meaning you and me.”

  “I can’t get away, so you’re on your own for now, Mac. Do what you can, but watch your backside.”

  “Gee, thanks for the support. By the way, did I happen to mention the complimentary massage that came as part of my three-day package?”

  “No, but I’d bet good money that you’re about to.”

  “My masseuse was this tall blue-eyed blonde from Mexico with magic fingers. She was dressed to kill, and I was sure she was going to put the make on me, but it turns out she was legit. Afterward, she showed up in a bathrobe with drinks, and we sat and talked a while. She’s a student at FSU working on a degree in fitness management. Nice girl.”

  “And your point is?”

  “You should give it a try, Frank. It’ll do you a world of good, work out all those kinks you’ve been accumulating while watching the peep show. Ask for Isabella and request the Royale Deluxe massage. And be sure to tell her I sent you.”

  “Good night, Mac.”

  I was sitting in the Royale Café the next morning having a late breakfast when I felt my cell phone vibrate. I was at a small corner table for two with no one else close by, so I answered instead of letting the call go to voice mail.

  “Mac, it’s J.D. Dakota just got arrested at the casino.”

  I nearly dropped my fork. “What?”

  “I said Dakota just got—”

  “Yeah, I heard you. Arrested for what?”

  “Suspicion of murder.”

  “Murder? Christ. Come on, J.D., spit it out.” J.D. Owens was a fine young officer, but he had a tendency to drag things out now and then.

  “Remember that Medlin girl, the one who lives in the house on 31st Street that we busted?”

  “Yeah?”

  “They found her dead in the sand dunes near the house around one-thirty this morning.”

  “Damn. Who found her?”

  “A couple of teenagers. They’d gone up in the dunes to make out and found her there.”

  Scratc
h one night of hot and horny teen romantic action. “Why do they think Dakota had anything to do with it?”

  “We found her knife near the body just after daylight while we were searching the area.”

  “How do they know it’s her knife?”

  J.D. let out a heavy breath. “Because I gave it to her for Christmas when we were kids. It’s got her initials inscribed on the handle and her prints are all over it.”

  “Lock blade?”

  “No, it’s just a small Buck with two blades.”

  “They think Dakota stabbed the girl to death with a pocketknife?” It wasn’t impossible, but it wouldn’t be an easy thing to do, especially if the victim was putting up any kind of a fight. In that case the attacker would likely have cuts on the hands or fingers, too.

  “No, she wasn’t stabbed. The victim was clubbed on the back of the head and then her carotid artery was cut. She bled to death.”

  My appetite was gone, but I signaled the waitress with my empty coffee cup. “Sounds like a professional hit. You don’t think Dakota did it, do you?”

  “No way, Mac, but with the knife and all, the evidence points to her.”

  “What’s the ‘all’ you’re talking about, J.D.?”

  J.D. let out a long breath. “Dakota and Caitlin Medlin both worked at the casino, and the word is that they didn’t get along very well.”

  What the hell was with Dakota? First she gets into a public brawl with Summer Tyson behind The Green Parrott, and now she’s accused of murdering Summer’s roomie. The waitress arrived with the coffeepot and refilled my cup. I waited until she headed for another table across the room. “What about Caitlin Medlin’s boyfriend, what’s-his-name? Have you questioned him?” I was having a sudden brain fart and couldn’t come up with the name.

  “Whit Coleman. We’re looking for him. He quit going to his classes at Chipola before the semester ended, and his parents haven’t heard from him in over a week.”

  “Looks like you guys are on the ball.”