Honeymoon for One

by Beth Orsoff

  Jane was the one who jumped into action. “We’re not going to figure this out tonight so we might as well go back to bed. Lizzie, you go shut all the windows and I’ll double-check the locks on the doors. Jack go turn on the A.C. I’d rather have air conditioning than ocean breezes anyway.”

  For all her bravado, Jane was shaken up enough not to want to sleep alone. To be honest, so was I. I knew Jack would welcome me, probably both of us, but I opted to spend the night with Jane. I wouldn’t be getting any head massages, and definitely no sex, but at least I knew I wouldn’t wake up with her trying to smother me with a pillow—not unless I snored really loud anyway.

  The next morning Jane and I rose to the sounds of banging and clanking. We quickly found the source—Jack in the kitchen.

  “I made coffee,” he said, as if this was a major accomplishment. “How do you like your eggs?”

  “I’ll cook,” Jane said, grabbing the frying pan from his hand.

  I poured each of us a cup of coffee, but we waited for Jack to take a sip before Jane and I tried it ourselves. Jane’s conspiracy theories had definitely started to rub off on me. I had actually considered the possibility that Jack might try to poison us.

  “I don’t think this is what Vito Corleone had in mind when he said ‘keep your friends close, but your enemies closer,’” I whispered to Jane when Jack took Fred into the bathroom so we could use both halves of the kitchen sink.

  “Maybe not,” she whispered back. “But he’s here, so make the best of it. And you need to use bleach on that,” she added, motioning to the sink. “Who knows what kind of turtle germs are in there.”

  We were having a relaxing breakfast on the patio when Jane reminded me that we were meeting with the antiquities dealer in an hour.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Jane. Someone obviously wants us out of here.”

  “Who’s it with?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t know his name,” Jane said. “Philip Gusman at Cape Town Antiques set it up.”

  “You mean Filipe Guzman?”

  “I’m sure it’s Philip Gusman,” she said, searching her purse for his business card, which she handed to Jack.

  “That’s the one he gives the tourists,” he said, handing it back. “With a twenty percent increase in the price. What are you buying?”

  Jane glanced at me before she said, “Just looking. My dad likes antiques and he’s got a big birthday coming up.”

  Jack threw his fork and knife onto his plate. “Why won’t you believe I’m not the bad guy here? I came clean about what I did, and I’m doing everything I can to fix it. So either you believe me and you’re going to be straight with me or you two are on your own.”

  Jack stared at me, so I turned to Jane. “He did break me out of jail and hide me for two nights.”

  She shrugged then said, “I told Gusman or Guzman or whatever his name is that I was looking for one-of-a-kind antique Mayan jewelry. He didn’t have any on hand, but he said he knew a local dealer and he’d set it up. I thought the guy might know something.”

  “You understand that the local antiquities dealer is also the local drug dealer and probably a relative of the looter who stole the jewelry in the first place, right?”

  “We understand that might be a possibility,” Jane said, glancing at me for confirmation.

  “Not might,” Jack said. “Is. And by ‘we’ does that mean Lizzie’s going with you?”

  “Of course I’m going with her. I’m not going to let her go alone.”

  “And you’re planning on dressing up as Boy George?”

  “No,” I said offended by the suggestion. My look was much more natural. “I’m just going to wear a baseball cap and men’s clothes.”

  “Lizzie, you could shave your head and wear overalls and no one’s going to believe you’re a guy.”

  Somehow I found that statement comforting.

  “Then what do you suggest?” Jane asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Lizzie can’t live in hiding forever and the police have no interest in finding the real killer. We have no choice.”

  “Then I’m going with you and she’s staying here,” Jack said, pointing at me.

  “Fine,” Jane said.

  “No, it’s not fine. I have a say in this too, you know.”

  “Lizzie, don’t be stupid,” Jack said, followed by Jane’s “he’s got a point.”

  I knew my disguise needed work, but still. It was my life on the line, not theirs. “I won’t come to the meeting, but I’m waiting outside. If you two don’t come back, someone’s got to know where to look for you.”

  After another ten minutes of arguing, it was agreed. I’d play lookout from the park across the street.

  Chapter 45

  JANE PARKED THE GOLF cart in the dirt lot two blocks from the antique store. She and Jack left first, and I followed a few minutes later, lugging the camera with the extra long lens so I’d look like a tourist.

  I tried waiting in the park, I really did, but not knowing what was going on inside was driving me crazy. When I couldn’t stand it anymore (about forty-five seconds later), I walked around the block to the back of the antique store and crept up to the screen door. I could hear voices, but they sounded like they were coming from upstairs.

  I eyed the palm tree only a few feet away. I hadn’t climbed a tree since, well forever actually. I’d never been a tomboy. But if I could just make it up five or six feet, I’d be able to see in the second story window. I shifted the camera around to my back, wrapped my arms around the tree trunk, and pushed up with my legs. Five minutes later I was in exactly the same spot. I don’t know how kids did it. The palm had no branches to hang onto and every time I pulled myself up a few inches, I’d end up sliding right back down.

  I was considering my options—none really, I just kept hoping one would present itself—when I heard the high pitched whine of a moped and ducked for cover in the bushes. I’d seen a police officer on a moped yesterday. Hair or no hair, I wasn’t taking any chances getting this close to another.

  I peered through the bushes, trying to ignore the insects and wildlife whose home I was invading, and watched as the moped slowed and then coasted to a stop at the antique shop’s back door.

  I didn’t let out my breath again until I saw the Havana shirt and knew that it wasn’t a cop. But my relief was short lived. When the rider climbed off the moped and turned around, I recognized him immediately. It was Ernesto, Michael’s cousin.

  It was like watching a car accident in slow motion. I wanted to warn Jane, but there was no way I could. I continued to stare as Ernesto slung his knapsack over his shoulder and strode through the back door. Ten second later the shouting began, mostly in Spanish. And a minute after that Ernesto burst through the screen door, kick-started his moped and took off down the alley.

  Jack, Jane, and a middle-aged man I didn’t recognize but presumed was Guzman followed.

  “Ernesto wait,” Jane yelled as he sped away.

  “I’m awfully sorry,” Filipe/Philip said in a British accent. “I can assure you Ms. Chandler, I know many dealers in the area. If you can give me a day or two, I’ll be able to find you what you’re looking for.”

  “Sure,” Jane said, not even bothering to look back. She was following Jack down the alley in the direction of the street. I waited until Filipe/Philip returned to his shop before I abandoned my hiding spot and caught up with them.

  “What are you doing here?” Jane said.

  Jack stopped and turned around. “I thought you agreed to wait for us in the park.”

  “Don’t worry, no one saw me. What happened?”

  “Ernesto came in and ruined everything,” Jane said, practically in tears.

  “Because he thinks you’re a federal agent,” Jack said, leading us back to the golf cart.

  “Where’d you get that from?” Jane replied.

  “You were standing right there when he said it.”

  “Jane doesn’t speak
Spanish either,” I explained.

  Jane stopped walking. “Maybe we can use this to our advantage.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “Don’t federal agents offer rewards for information?”

  “They might,” I said, trying to remember if I’d seen any rewards posters the last time I’d mailed a package from the post office.

  “You’re going to offer him a reward for information about Michael’s killer?” Jack didn’t even try to hide his skepticism.

  “Why not?” Jane said.

  I agreed. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “For one thing, how are you going to find him? I don’t think Guzman will be setting up any more meetings.”

  “I’m sure you could find him,” I said, grabbing Jack’s arm and making doe eyes at him.

  Jane followed suit from the other side. “Yeah Jack, I bet a big, strong man like you could find anyone.”

  He shook us both off, but cracked a smile. “Even if I could track him down, what makes you think he’ll believe me? And why do you think you can believe him? For all we know, he could be the killer.”

  “First you said it was one of Manuel’s drug dealer friends.”

  “I never said that,” Jack insisted.

  “Now you think it’s Ernesto?” I continued.

  “Hey, all I said was I thought Manuel might have had something to do with planting the jade in your suitcase,” Jack replied. “I never said he was the killer.”

  “Then how did Michael’s blood get on the jade?”

  “Maybe Ernesto can tell us,” Jane said. “And a bribe’s the fastest way to find out.”

  I was peeling and cleaning shrimp for dinner, leaving the shells for Fred to nibble on, when Jack strode through the kitchen door.

  “You owe me big time,” he said.

  “For what?” I asked, not even bothering to look up from the sink.

  He unfolded a crumpled note and held it in front of my face. “For this.”

  Cajun Joe’s. 10 p.m. $10K

  “Is this supposed to mean something?”

  “It means for ten thousand dollars, Ernesto will finger the killer and you go free.”

  “Will he take a check?” Jane said, coming in from the patio looking fabulous, as always, in her bikini top with matching sarong around her waist. “A wire transfer will take at least a day.”

  “No,” Jack said, “he’s not going to take a check. This isn’t Bloomingdales.”

  “Maybe we can pool our resources,” I said, drying my hands on a kitchen towel. “I’ve probably still got a hundred or so in cash.”

  “I’ve got two hundred,” Jane said, “But I can get another three from an A.T.M.”

  Jack pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “I’ve got 40 bucks.”

  “What about your Dad?” I asked. “Would he have any cash around?”

  “Not the kind of money you’re talking about. Besides, he thinks I’m in Guatemala visiting a friend for a few days.”

  “A friend?” I asked.

  Jack stared at the floor as he said, “Girlfriend actually.”

  “You have a girlfriend?” And he had the nerve to get mad at me for lying. At least my husband was a fake.

  “Ex-girlfriend. We broke up a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I can’t believe you never told me.”

  “There was nothing to tell. Besides, you’re the one—”

  “You two can finish your lover’s quarrel later,” Jane said. “Right now we have to figure out how we’re going to get our hands on ten thousand dollars by the end of the day.”

  Chapter 46

  IT WAS JANE’S IDEA to call my lawyer.

  “But won’t he turn us in? He’s an officer of the court, remember.”

  “I’m not going to tell him you’re with me,” Jane said. “I’ll say after you escaped I stayed behind to clear your name.”

  “I don’t know, Jane.” It sounded pretty unbelievable to me.

  “You have any better ideas?”

  “Maybe Jack could push the meeting a day or two until you can get the money yourself.”

  “I don’t think so,” Jack said. “Ernesto was already pretty jumpy. I think if we postpone he’ll disappear.”

  “Then it’s agreed,” Jane said, and went into the living room to call David.

  Jack stayed in the kitchen with me. He peeled the rest of the shrimp while I cleaned them and fed the left over scraps to Fred.

  “Don’t get too attached,” Jack said, watching Fred nibble on the shell in my hand.

  “Why not? Are you planning on feeding him to a shark?”

  “If this pans out with Ernesto, you’ll be going home soon.”

  “So? I’ll bring Fred with me.” My apartment building didn’t allow dogs, but I didn’t think there was any prohibition on turtles. “My neighbor’s kid has two goldfish and no one’s complained.”

  “Goldfish don’t grow to three hundred pounds. Besides, you can’t just take him on the plane with you. You have to have a permit to import wildlife.”

  “Then maybe your friend Manuel can smuggle him in with his cocaine,” I said, as I dumped the rest of the shells in the trash.

  “Cute,” Jack said, then smiled back at me.

  We stared at each other for a few seconds and it took all of my self control not to reach up and push the hair out of those blue-gray eyes, which were leaning more towards blue today than gray. God he was good looking. Then Jack leaned in. I closed my eyes and inhaled his suntan scent, expecting any moment to feel his lips on mine. Instead I heard Jane’s voice booming in my ear.

  “We’ve got five thousand,” she said, joining us in the kitchen.

  I jumped back and tried to refocus my mind on the task at hand. “Is that enough?”

  “It’ll have to be,” Jack said, turning away from me to wash his hand at the sink. “Assuming we can get to Belize City and back before ten. It’s going to be tight,” he added, glancing at his watch.

  Jane shook her head. “David’s meeting us, or meeting me rather at the bar. He said he wants to be there to record the conversation with Ernesto so he’ll have something to bring to the police.”

  “Ernesto’s never going to go for that,” Jack said.

  “He won’t know. David said he’ll use a hidden mic.”

  “Is that legal?” I asked.

  “It must be,” Jane said, “if David’s doing it.”

  At nine o’clock, the three of us piled into the golf cart and headed out to Cajun Joe’s. Jane wanted to make sure she got there early and I used the ‘I don’t feel safe staying home alone’ excuse to tag along.

  “You can come into town,” Jack said, “but not to the restaurant.”

  “Of course.” With David there, I’d have to stay out of sight. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to find some way to listen in.

  We parked the golf cart near the dock, three blocks from the restaurant.

  “I’ll try to get us a table on the patio so you’ll be able to see,” Jack said, handing me Jane’s night vision binoculars.

  “Good idea.” I’d forgotten about these.

  “But we better not see you,” he added.

  “Understood.”

  “Do you have your cell phone?” Jane asked.

  “Yes,” I said, feeling for it in my pants pocket. I was starting to like wearing men’s clothes. They were much roomier than women’s.

  “Good,” she said. “Mine’s on vibrate, so you can call if you need us.”

  “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll be fine. You two just have fun.”

  Jack placed his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “Be good young lady, or I’ll have to spank you when we get home.”

  S&M had never been my scene, but I was starting to feel tingly all over just thinking about it. “Being bad is starting to sound good.”

  “Too much information people,” Jane shouted.

  “Hey, I’m on my honeymoon.”

  “T
hat’s true,” Jack said, sporting a devilish grin.

  “You saw what happened to the last guy she brought on her honeymoon,” Jane said, as she pulled her lipstick out of her purse. “Are you sure you want to go there?”

  “She’s got a point,” he said, and let go of me.

  “Thanks a lot, Jane.”

  “It’s for your own good,” she said, as she double-checked her flawless appearance in the golf cart’s rear view mirror.

  I didn’t see how my remaining sex-starved and unsatisfied was for my own good, but I wasn’t going to have that conversation in front of Jack. I wished them luck and waited until they had a five-minute head start before I followed them at a safe distance.

  The binoculars did come in handy. From my current location on the beach, I could see perfectly. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hear anything above the general restaurant din. I wished Jane had thought to order a directional mic with the rest of the spy gear. At least the next time one of us gets arrested for a murder we didn’t commit and we’re forced to find the real killer ourselves, we’ll know what equipment to bring.

  I waited until I saw David arrive at the restaurant before I made my move. While Jane was busy making the introductions, I sprinted across the dark beach and dove under the deck to Cajun Joe’s. The outer edge was at least ten feet above the sand, so there was plenty of room underneath. I crawled around listening to the conversations above me until I heard Jane’s voice.

  “I can’t believe that really works,” Jane said.

  “Say something,” David replied.

  “What should I say?”

  “Anything.”

  “Testing one two three.”

  I heard a click and then Jane’s voice sounding very tinny saying ‘testing one two three.’ I looked up between the slats of the wood deck, but all I could see were David’s shoes and Jane’s bare feet. I knew those heels weren’t as comfortable as she’d pretended.

  “That’s amazing,” Jane said. “I’m going to buy one of those as soon as I get home.”

  “Where did you get it?” Jack asked.

  “A client of mine gave it to me last Christmas.”