Emilio tucked a stack of papers they had given him into his back pocket and pulled out his keys. He shrugged and unlocked the padlock. “You’re not going to find anything. This place has been locked up tight since last week.” When the lock snapped open, he pulled the chain from the doors and swung the left one open.
“Stay put,” Detective Torres warned him. She entered the building, Detective Williams right behind her. The door swished closed behind them.
“Penelope,” Emilio said when he saw her approaching. “I called my lawyer. They have a warrant.”
“That’s good. They’ll search your house and the restaurant site, then they’ll move on to someone else when they don’t find anything.”
“It will be a relief. I can’t believe this happened on the one weekend I come down here and mix with the locals. I hope that’s not an indication of how things are going to go—”
The doors banged open and Detective Williams rushed out, speaking urgently into his cell phone. “We need the chopper. MediVac stat. We’ve got two unresponsive females, possible OD. We’re at Ocean Avenue on Andrea Island, adjacent to Sackler’s Market.”
Penelope’s stomach did a flip and she stepped away from Emilio. He searched her face helplessly as Detective Williams said, “Mr. Babineau, we’re placing you under arrest.”
The detective’s voice faded away in Penelope’s mind as she took another step back and stared at her former teacher. His expression morphed from panic to fear to resignation as his hands were cuffed behind his back.
“Penelope,” Emilio pleaded as she continued to back away. “I didn’t do this.”
Penelope stood in the parking lot of Sackler’s Market as the MediVac helicopter took off from the athletic field behind the Andrea Island school complex, a small group of stucco buildings that housed the elementary, middle and high schools. After they’d handcuffed Emilio, the detectives sat him down on the sidewalk and re-cuffed him to the base of a sign that read Andrea Island Historic District in gold letters, his arms lying loosely behind him. Detectives Torres and Williams ushered the EMTs into the vacant building and, moments later, two stretchers came bouncing out, white sheets draped over Rebekkah and Sabena. Penelope caught a glimpse of Sabena’s face and her heart sank when she saw the grayish tint to her skin. Penelope closed her eyes, fighting back tears as they passed by.
After several minutes, Penelope went to Emilio and crouched down to talk to him. Detective Williams stood nearby, talking urgently with someone on his phone while Detective Torres draped police tape over the front doors of the restaurant site.
“Penelope, please,” Emilio said to her, his eyes slightly wild. “You have to believe me. I had nothing to do with this.”
Penelope looked at him closely, swallowing down the sour bile in the back of her throat. “I want to believe you, Chef. But the purse in your truck…and how did the girls get inside your restaurant?”
“I wish I knew. Help me, please,” he begged.
“I don’t know how to help you,” Penelope said, choking on the last word.
“Please, can you do one thing for me? Take the papers from the inside of my jacket and bring them to my house. My wife Dominique is there. It’s the permits and other documents for the restaurant. I don’t want them to get lost if I’m processed.”
Penelope looked at him doubtfully.
“You’re the only person on this island who I can trust. And you have nothing to do with this restaurant. I’m still working on everything with the city council. I don’t want them to see all of our proposed plans yet. Please, it would be easier. I know it’s a lot to ask. I’ll owe you one, okay?”
Penelope felt sorry for her once proud and cocky chef instructor, realizing how humiliating all of this must be for him. She also remembered how he patiently gave her special instruction in the kitchen classroom when she’d asked for help to perfect her filleting technique, coming in early on his own time to help her all those years ago. She tried to hold onto that image of him and not the one in front of her now.
“Sure. I can do that for you, Chef.” Penelope reached inside his jacket and retrieved a thick fold of papers from the interior pocket.
“Thanks, Penelope. And tell Dominique I’ll call. That I’ll be home soon,” Emilio said. “We’re renovating one of the old mansions on the west side of the island, house number four. Just follow Ocean Avenue until it turns into Mangrove Loop. You can’t miss it.”
“Okay, Mr. Babineau,” Detective Williams said, finishing his phone call. “We’re taking you over to the mainland station. Let’s go.” Detectives Williams and Torres led Emilio toward the docks.
Penelope tucked Emilio’s paperwork into her backpack, slung it over her shoulders and followed them at a distance. The midday ferry had arrived, its low horn sounding as it began to pull away from the dock and head back to the mainland.
When she reached the marina, Penelope stopped short, her heart making a sudden leap.
Leaning on the railing with his phone up to his ear was Joey, looking her way behind reflective sunglasses, a rolling suitcase propped against his leg. Penelope felt her phone buzzing in her backpack and quickly pulled it from her shoulders. Realizing that was silly, she walked quickly towards him and threw her arms around his neck. He pulled the phone from his ear and hugged her back.
“What’re you doing here?” Penelope asked, pulling out of the hug and looking up into his handsome face.
“I came to surprise you. Are you surprised?” Joey asked. “I hope you’re surprised and not weirded out. I tried to call, but…”
Penelope kissed him then, stopping him from saying anything else.
Chapter 9
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Penelope said after breaking the kiss.
“I have this vacation time I’m going to lose if I don’t take, so I decided to come down and see Florida. And you,” Joey said, searching her face. “I called this morning when I landed in Miami. I hope you’re okay with me just showing up.” He hesitated, nervously awaiting her response.
“Yes, of course,” Penelope said, finally letting go of him. She linked her fingers in his and smiled. “This is a wonderful surprise.”
“I rented a cabin for the week on the south end of the beach, wherever that is,” Joey said.
“I’ll help you find it. I was just heading to the boat to get my things. Do you want to come and say hi to Arlena?”
“Sure. Hey, I just saw two officers hustling a guy in handcuffs onto a police boat over there,” Joey said, pointing at the now empty slip. “I thought you said this was a sleepy little island.”
“I know that guy, actually. I have for a long time,” Penelope said quietly, looking away from him.
“Oh, sorry,” Joey said sheepishly. “What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Penelope said. “I’ll fill you in when we get to the boat.”
Joey took Penelope’s hand and led her down the dock, his suitcase bouncing across the warped boards. When they passed the old fishermen, Penelope noticed they were still scowling, but with less menace. They must’ve moved on to the drinking portion of the day.
When they entered the main salon of the boat, Arlena and Max greeted Joey warmly and invited him to stay. Penelope removed her backpack and sat down on the nearest couch, motioning for Joey to sit next to her. Max offered beers to everyone, and Joey happily accepted.
Joey twisted the cap and took a sip. “Now my vacation can start.”
Penelope pulled Emilio’s papers from her bag and started to open them, then wondered if she should.
“What’s that?” Joey asked, eyeing the paperwork.
“That guy you saw? He was one of my teachers back in culinary school. He just got arrested and asked me to take these papers to his wife on the other side of the island as a favor.”
> “What is it?” Max asked, leaning against the galley island.
“I think it’s the contract for the restaurant building. Maybe the building permits and plans, financial information he didn’t want the city council to see. He insisted I take it to her.”
“I’ll go with you,” Joey said. “What was the guy arrested for? Violating building codes?”
“Kidnapping two teenage girls,” Penelope said quietly.
Joey’s beer bottle stopped halfway to his mouth and he turned to look at her. “Seriously? What’s going on around here?”
“He says he didn’t do it,” Penelope said quickly. “I want to believe him, give him the benefit of the doubt. I think he deserves it.”
Joey eyed her tenderly and said, “Sounds like you’re got history. You really want to help him, Penny?”
“I think so, yeah,” Penelope said, unsure herself. “He just wants me to take this to her. It’s not like he’s asking me to testify on his behalf or anything.”
“Not yet,” Arlena chimed in.
“What evidence do they have on him?” Joey asked.
Penelope caught Joey up on everything they had just seen, including finding the purse in Emilio’s truck.
“Sounds like he’s up against it, Penny. The girls were found alive?”
“As far as I know,” Penelope said. She glanced at the paperwork in her hands and unfolded the top portion. She saw Transfer of Deed printed at in the header in swirly letters. Emilio’s name was typed onto the buyer’s line with the name Elizabeth Haverford on the seller line.
“Sometimes innocent people appear guilty, even when they’re not,” Penelope said, standing up from the couch and heading to the galley. She pulled open the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.
“Hopefully he’s telling the truth and he really had nothing to do with this,” Joey said, finishing his beer. Max held up his bottle to offer him another but Joey declined with a wave. “You believe this guy, and that’s good enough for me. Let’s go deliver the papers to his wife and then we can start enjoying the first day of my vacation.”
Chapter 10
Penelope called the head of transportation to see if they could borrow one of the production vehicles, then she and Joey went to store his suitcase in her stateroom.
“You’re sure you don’t mind me just showing up like this, Penny Blue?” Joey asked, calling her by the nickname she’d been given in grade school where they had first met.
Penelope sat on the bed and patted the mattress next to her. “Joey, I’m really glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.”
Sitting next to her, he said, “I’ve missed you too.” He leaned in for a kiss. Penelope kissed him back, looping her arms around his neck. Joey’s hand slid up her thigh and he shifted back slightly onto the bed, pulling Penelope with him.
“I think the car is probably here by now,” Penelope said between kisses, pushing him away gently. Joey groaned and hugged her tighter.
“It will be there whenever we’re ready to go,” Penelope said. “But I’m afraid if we start something now, I’m never going to want to leave this room.”
Joey laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re right. Let’s get going before I change my mind and lock that door.”
A black Range Rover was waiting for them in the first spot at the marina, the keys tucked under the visor.
“Wow, very trusting,” Joey said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. Penelope buckled up, placing her backpack between her feet on the floor.
“I told him he could leave the keys at the marina office, but he said the truck would be safe out here. I guess it’d be pretty easy to catch a car thief in a place like this.”
“Do they take cars back and forth on the ferry?” Joey asked. “I didn’t see any on my trip over.”
“It’s very limited. You have to be issued a permit from the city council, and they only allow a certain number over at a time. Shane had to get special permission for us to bring a few trucks like these for the crew and my three catering trucks. It held up the start of production for a couple of weeks, trying to get the approvals from the Andrea Island powers that be.”
“Wow, they run a tight ship down here,” Joey said, starting up the truck.
“The ferry only transports cars from the island on Sundays. They don’t want a bunch of tourists and their cars on the island; something about protecting the local vegetation and limiting wear and tear on the roads. Makes sense, I suppose.”
“I guess if the draw of your island is ‘Rustic Old Florida’ you’d better deliver. Good for them,” Joey said. “Which way am I going?”
“Head up to the avenue and go left. The main road is just a big circle around the island. Emilio said his house is on the other side of the loop.”
They opened all the windows and the sunroof and drove to Emilio’s. Penelope closed her eyes and breathed in the salty air, feeling relaxed for the first time since her emotional morning.
House number four on Mangrove Loop was a narrow two-story with washed out greenish-blue wooden slats and ornate shutters matching the wraparound porch railings. The roof was covered with large inlaid tiles in a diamond design that must have once been quite grand but was now faded from the sun and the elements. Penelope noticed several of the tiles were cracked or missing altogether. Weathered yellow wooden shutters in the windows were open to let in fresh air. Stepping onto the creaking porch, Penelope noticed the large picture window facing the great room was cracked on one side and held in by blue construction tape. In the corner of the porch where a hanging swing might go was a pile of building supplies, including several boxes of roofing tiles, a few five-gallon paint buckets and some drop cloths.
Penelope used the heavy antique knocker to signal their arrival. When the door opened, Penelope found herself looking straight into the prettiest green eyes she’d ever seen. Dominique Babineau was as petite as Penelope, both reaching just over five feet.
“Can I help you?” Dominique asked, smiling shyly at Penelope.
“Are you Dominique?” Penelope asked hesitantly. She wondered if Dominique knew about Emilio yet. She didn’t appear at all distressed.
“Yes, that’s me. And you are?” she asked, her eyes drifting over Penelope’s shoulder to rest on Joey’s face.
“I’m Penelope Sutherland and this is Joseph Baglioni. Emilio was my teacher,” Penelope said, glancing back at Joey. “He asked me to bring you something. Have you talked to him recently?”
“Dommie, who is it?” a man’s high-pitched voice called from the back of the house. Penelope recognized it immediately, having heard it squeaking nonstop from the walkie-talkie permanently attached to her hip during filming.
“It’s some friends of Emilio’s,” she called over her shoulder. She looked back at them and smiled. “Come in.” She opened the door wider and stepped back into the foyer, her bare feet tiny and dark against the big white tiles. She swept her arm to direct them to the back of the house, past a sagging staircase on the right and a small sitting room with inlaid bookshelves on their left.
“Penelope, what are you doing here?” Shane Guthrie said to them as they entered the kitchen. He was sitting on a stool at the kitchen island, his pale, thin hand draped loosely around a coffee mug on the counter. Several sections of the newspaper were spread out on the island and the sink was full of dirty dishes.
Penelope stammered, “We’re, um…we’re here to drop off something for Emilio. He asked me to bring these.” She pulled her backpack from her shoulders and retrieved the paperwork. Dominique watched her quietly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter next to the sink, her arms folded together loosely above her waist.
“You’re supposed to be off today, all of you, enjoying yourselves. Why does Emilio have you running errands for him?” Shane asked.
&nb
sp; “Neither of you have heard from Emilio in the past hour or so?” Penelope asked. She could feel heat vibrating on her cheeks as she realized she might be in the position to deliver the terrible news.
“No. Who’s your friend?” Shane asked.
Penelope introduced Joey, who stepped closer to Penelope and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently. “Emilio was taken into custody earlier at the restaurant site. The police have him at the station on the mainland,” she said.
“What?” The smile slipped from Dominique’s face for the first time since they’d arrived.
Penelope glanced between hers and Shane’s expectant faces.
“From what I can tell, they took him in on suspicion of kidnapping. I don’t have all of the details. I just happened to be there when it happened, and he asked me to bring these to you.”
“What the hell?” Shane yelled, his face going dark red. “Who are they saying he kidnapped?”
“They found my servers, Sabena and Rebekkah, unconscious, padlocked inside the construction site. They’ve been missing all weekend,” Penelope said. “I watched them get wheeled out on stretchers. It was horrible.”
“That doesn’t mean my Emilio put them there. What proof do they have of anything?” Dominique demanded.
Penelope hesitated a moment then said, “I don’t know what proof they have. We were all at the beach party on Friday night, and the police said people saw him talking to the girls after the party had broken up.”
A different expression came over Dominique’s face. She said harshly, “These girls, how old are they, then?” A slight French accent weaved its way through some of her words.
Penelope pretended to think about her answer before she said, “Sixteen. Both of them.”
“Secousse,” Dominique whispered under her breath, shaking her head.
Murder on the Half Shell (A Red Carpet Catering Mystery Book 2) Page 7