by Liliana Hart
“Considering he’d just had his kidney surgically removed, I’m not all that surprised.”
“Something as well-orchestrated as the Anthony Dunnegan job wasn’t done by amateurs. It’s a network that would need constantly moving parts and contacts. Do you know who facilitates those kinds of jobs?” Nick asked.
I was getting a sinking feeling in my stomach, but didn’t say anything.
“A broker does,” he continued. “It’s funny your acquaintance with Ugly Mo started at the same time you picked up this case.”
I wasn’t totally convinced, but Nick had planted seeds of doubt in my mind. Mo had admitted to having knowledge about the organization. Maybe he was more involved than he’d let on.
“My point is,” Nick said. “I love you. I want you safe. And when I see you in potential danger I just want to protect you. Can you understand that?”
He’d taken the edge right off my anger. “Yes,” I told him softly. I felt the same way when he went to work every day.
“Good.”
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me toward him, kissing me long and hard, until I was breathless and couldn’t quite remember why I’d been in such a hurry to begin with. And then I did remember. Scarlet was with Ugly Mo. And she could be in more danger than she thought.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, pushing open the truck door.
“Be safe. And call me if you need anything. Don’t be stubborn because your deadline is ticking.”
“You just had to throw that in there, didn’t you?” I asked.
Nick grinned and I felt my heart flip slowly in my chest. I waved bye and hopped in the van. The good news about parking six blocks from the agency was that I was closer to The Ballastone. I peeled out into the street in my haste. I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until I saw Scarlet standing at the base of the stairs next to the bellman. Ugly Mo was nowhere in sight, and I felt myself relax.
And then I saw the horrified look on the bellman’s face and realized the reason. Scarlet was wearing black leggings, a black long-sleeved shirt, and a white, rabbit fur vest. She had on knee-high riding boots and a black-and-white silk scarf tied artfully around her perfectly coifed hair. She looked like a perfectly respectable grandmotherly type, in the style of Jackie Onassis. The only problem was that she had a giant bag of ice between her legs that came up the front and back like a sanitary napkin and she had it fastened to her body with black duct tape. It looked like she was wearing an ice diaper.
My eyes met the bellman’s, and I could tell he was going to need a lot of therapy to recover, but he opened the passenger side door for Scarlet and held her arms as she got settled in.
“Umm,” I said once we pulled away from the hotel and were headed back to pick up Rosemarie.
“Ingenious, isn’t it?” she asked. “I figured it’d at least help the swelling go down. It reminds me of back in the war days when all I had was my wits and the materials at hand. I once made a catapult out of branches, my undergarments, and rosary beads. I sent a coded message right into the general’s bedroom. Saved a lot of lives with that one.”
I pressed my lips together and circled around Telfair Square so we’d pull up directly in front of the agency. I spotted Rosemarie from the other end of the block.
The word incognito must have multiple definitions. She was wearing a long-sleeved, canary-yellow, one-piece jumpsuit and black wedge heels. I couldn’t decide if she looked more like the guys that collect hazardous waste or a Teletubby, but whichever it was, incognito she was not. Her hair was back to its Farrah Fawcett glory and she was wearing fake eyelashes that looked a little like spiders.
“What’s that up there?” Scarlet asked, squinting. “Looks like Big Bird with a camel toe. You think we could get a drink somewhere? My baby-maker burns like fire, and this ice is so cold I can’t tell if it’s doing the job or I’ve wet myself.”
I stopped the van next to Rosemarie, and she climbed in the back. I wasn’t surprised by Rosemarie’s attire. Somewhere deep inside, I’d known “nighttime party” Rosemarie was going to show up. And I couldn’t say I was all that surprised by Scarlet’s ice diaper. It was always something. All in all, it was a normal Monday night out.
Chapter Sixteen
I circled around the block a couple of times, not only looking for a good parking place, but also looking for the yellow pedi-cab. I guess Raf had found some clients that were drunk enough to transport, because he was in the wind.
The good news was, Scarlet had decided her lady parts were feeling better and she was going to leave the ice bag in the sink in the back of the van.
Charlie’s wasn’t crowded, which was to be expected on a Monday night before six, so we walked through the front doors and immediately became the object of everyone’s attention. We were certainly eye-catching.
We found spots at the bar and the bartender lifted her brows at us as she filled an order. I was trying to size her up before I decided which approach I was going to take. She came closer to take our orders and I noticed the crease around her left ring finger where a wedding ring had once been.
“What can I get y’all?” she asked.
She was wearing jeans and a plaid shirt and her dark blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Both of her ears had piercings all the way up and she had a tiny diamond stud in her nose. She was maybe thirty, and she seemed to be at peace with her profession of choice.
Rosemarie ordered a Sex on the Beach, Scarlet ordered a martini dry with two olives, and I ordered a glass of white wine.
“Can I ask you a question,” I said to the bartender. I smiled, but I needed her to see the vulnerability lurking behind the smile.
“Sure thing, honey. What’s up?”
I pulled out a picture of Anthony Dunnegan and slid it across the bar to her. “Do you happen to remember if this man came in here with another woman?”
I bit my lip and tried to work up some tears, but I wasn’t that good of an actor. Thankfully, Rosemarie and Scarlet stayed silent.
“It’s okay if he was with another woman,” I said. “I can take it. I’ve known it all along, but I just need the proof to give to my attorney for the divorce.”
“I hear ya,” she said. “I hope you take him to the cleaners.” She studied the photograph closely. “I don’t know, honey. A lot of men come in this bar. When was he here?”
“Friday before last. A couple of reliable sources said he was with a woman who looked like…well, it sounds silly. But they said she looked like Wonder Woman. The new one,” I said, clarifying before she could ask.
“Now that does sound familiar. Hold on a sec and let me get your drinks. I think Sheila might have been waiting on them. Your husband is kind of forgettable, and if I remember right he was a real ass, but the woman stood out. My name is Gina, by the way.”
She made our drinks and then made a come here gesture to someone behind us. A few minutes later another woman appeared. She was older than Gina by probably a decade and a little broader in the hip. She wore a denim skirt and a tight rhinestone t-shirt, and her dark hair was long and straight. Age lines were prominent around her eyes and mouth. My mother would’ve said she looked like she’d been ridden hard and put away wet.
“Sheila, didn’t you serve this guy Friday before last?” Gina asked her. “My friend here is about to skin him in a divorce for cheating on her.”
“Hmmph,” Sheila said. “They’re all cheaters. Not worth the time or trouble.”
“That’s the truth,” Scarlet said. “My third husband cheated on me once. I took my fillet knife and held it right against his penis. Gave him a real nice haircut and only nicked him a couple times. He didn’t cheat on me again. Course, he died a couple weeks later.” She paused for dramatic effect and then added, “Of natural causes.” And then she finished off her martini.
“Christ,” Sheila said. “That’s hardcore.”
“That’s how I roll,” Scarlet said.
“Damn ri
ght,” Rosemarie said, and she and Scarlet toasted each other.
Sheila stared at the photograph for a couple of seconds and said, “Yeah, I remember that guy. He came in with Stella.”
I perked up at that. “Oh no. Is she a friend of yours?” I asked, sounding discouraged. “Damn, I really wanted to get that cheating bastard.” I was really getting into it.
“Not a personal friend, but she’s been in a few times over the past few weeks. A couple times she just sat by herself and kind of watched everyone. Didn’t respond to any guys trying to pick her up. And a couple times she came in with a few girlfriends. I figured maybe she was gay and didn’t want the hassle. We never talked or anything, but I ran her credit card a few times. The name on it was Stella, but I don’t remember the last name. Something Italian, I think. But then she came in with this douche a week or so ago.”
Gina elbowed her friend. “That’s her husband,” she said, nodding to me.
“Oh right. Sorry about that,” Sheila said.
“No problem. I think he’s a douche too. It’s better to know than to be duped and keep believing his lies.”
Then Sheila went into a play-by-play of how despicably Anthony acted with this Stella woman. They were both drinking, but Anthony was really throwing them back. She said Stella was a little more reserved, but she seemed pretty blitzed too. “I remember Jack had to ask them to leave, because things were getting pretty risqué out of the dance floor.”
“Who’s Jack?” I asked.
“Our bouncer,” Gina answered.
“Yeah, Jack said your husband was really pissed off and started spouting off about lawsuits and stuff like that, but the woman just laughed and dragged him out of the bar. I don’t know where they went from there.”
“I really appreciate y’all’s help,” I told them gratefully. “Every piece of the puzzle I can put together is another nail in his coffin.”
They both wished me well and Scarlet paid the tab, tipping them generously. I noticed Scarlet was walking funny on the way out and felt guilty for not parking closer after her traumatic afternoon with the anaconda.
“Would you mind pulling the van around?” I asked Rosemarie. “I’m not sure Scarlet’s up to making the walk back. I’ll stay here with her so she’s not alone.”
“You know, I didn’t take it into consideration before,” Scarlet said, “But you don’t think Ugly Mo could get me pregnant, do you? I’ve been off birth control a lot of years, but it seems Mo might be more potent than most, considering that he can really get up in those hard to reach places.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much,” I told her. “Probably Mo isn’t potent enough to reverse menopause.”
“That’s a relief. I’d be a hundred and eight by the time that kid graduated from high school. I’ve got a lot of good years left.”
I gave Rosemarie the car keys and she headed around the corner toward the van. Coming around the other corner at the same time was the yellow pedi-cab. In the driver’s seat was Raf with the dreadlocks, only he was awake now.
“Shit,” I said. “I really need to talk to that guy.”
“Well, let’s go then,” Scarlet said. “At least I’ll be sitting down. Rosemarie will probably be another ten minutes.”
I weighed my options and decided it wasn’t worth losing him to another customer or having him disappear the rest of the night, so I grabbed Scarlet by the arm and we headed across the street, waving our arms to flag him down.
“Hey there, could we get a ride?” I asked. “She had a little too much to drink.”
“And I got swollen lady parts on account I did the deed with my first black man today.”
“Righteous,” Raf said. “I hear you’ll never go back.”
Seeing Raf awake wasn’t much different than seeing him asleep. He had that vacant, zoned-out look of someone who’d taken one too many hits from his bong. He wore a pair of cargo shorts and a sweatshirt that said Just Say No to Condoms.
“Where y’all headed?”
“Over to the Hamilton Inn,” I said, thinking I could kill two birds with one trip.
“Lame. There’s no party there. It’s got no vibe, man.”
“I think she’s had all the vibe she can handle for the day,” I told him.
“Bummer.” He started peddling and we coasted up Broughton Street at a much faster pace than we had on our trip earlier in the day. I sent a quick text to Rosemarie and told her to meet us over at the Hamilton Inn.
“We saw you earlier today,” Scarlet said. “But you were sleeping. You looked real comfortable.”
“Yeah, man. Like, this business isn’t worth getting out of bed before three. Daytime people are a real drag.”
“I was impressed that no one stole your hair,” she said, as if that were a normal thing.
“I was worried about that at first,” Raf said. “’Cause it took me a while to grow my hair this way. I’m like, envied among my peers. It’s like back when everyone was stealing all the Air Jordan’s right off people’s feet.”
“Dark times,” Scarlet said.
“The darkest,” he agreed. “But I’m protected, man. I got nothing to worry about.”
“How are you protected?” I asked.
He turned in his bicycle seat and stared at me like I was the one with the drug problem. “Umm, God protects me. He bought me this cart and the bicycle and he said I will protect you. So I was like, awesome. And then we smoked a joint.”
“You smoked a joint with God?”
“Fuckin’ A,” he said.
“Is that why your cart is yellow and all the others in the city are red and green?” I asked.
He stopped for a light and beeped his little bicycle horn at another pedi-cab coming in our direction.
“No, man. I’m yellow because yellow is the color of good energy. I represent freedom and the fucking spirit of like. I’m yellow because I’m a motherfucking entrepreneur. I can’t be bought by big city corporations. I’m my own man.”
“And because God gave it to you,” I added.
“Right on,” he said.
“I always wanted to know what God looked like,” Scarlet said. “I figure I’m going to get to see him soon enough, but I’ve always been one of those people who wants to know what I’m getting into before I sign on the dotted line.”
“I’ll be honest, dude,” Raf said. “He wasn’t what I expected. He’s not the best looking guy in the world. I think the universe scrambled his face before it sent him to earth. And what’s with the suits? I was expecting robes or a toga. And he can be a real dick if he’s in a bad mood, especially if you accidentally lose something that’s really expensive.”
“I’ll have to rethink that then,” Scarlet said. “I lose expensive stuff all the time. If that’s the tipping point between heaven and hell, then I guess I know where I’m headed.”
I closed my eyes and muttered, “We’re all headed there after this conversation.”
“What did you lose?” Scarlet asked.
Raf shrugged. “I dunno. They never tell me. Something important, I guess. But sometimes my memory isn’t so great. I think it was a holiday, because I only smoke blunts on holidays. Otherwise it messes with my productivity. But turns out they wanted me to work on the holiday, and I was like, “No way, man. I want workers comp. So they gave me like, a thousand dollars extra, and then I went to work and lost their shit ’cause I was too high. I figure it’s their own fault.”
I was pretty sure that Raf thought Ugly Mo was God. I decided to play a hunch and see what happened.
“Hey, Raf, do you know Stella? She told me you gave awesome rides.”
“Dude, why didn’t you tell me Stella was your people? She’s the best, man. Always gives Raf a baggie of the good stuff on top of my paycheck.”
“What kind of good stuff?” Scarlet asked. “You got any Oracle?”
“Shit, woman. Oracle is an urban legend. Nobody can get their hands on oracle.”
Scarlet dug aroun
d in her handbag and pulled out a baggie of marijuana. “It’s as real as I’m standing here,” she said. “You just gotta know how to get it. I’m rich, so I got lots of connections, on account of people like my money.”
“Put that away,” I hissed. “That’s illegal.”
“I got a prescription,” Scarlet said.
“Not in this state,” I said. “They’ll arrest you.”
“No one’s going to arrest a ninety-year-old lady. I’ve got immunity. Besides, I need it for my arthritis. Otherwise my joints get all stiff and I can’t move. I’m thinking about lighting up as soon as I get back to the hotel. I’m thinking my wizard’s sleeve is in need of a healing spell, if you catch my drift.”
I shook my head in disbelief. The best interpreter on the planet wouldn’t have had a clue what she was talking about.
“Why are you trying to stifle my constitutional rights, you old fuddy-duddy,” she said, looking at me. “I fought for this country.”
“Preach it, sister,” Raf said.
“You’re ninety years old,” I told her. “You can do whatever you want. But there’s a couple of cops on horseback roaming about that might not be so tolerant if you’re waving it around in public.”
“That’s true, dude,” Raf said. “They don’t always appreciate the magic. Sometimes they take you to the slammer and confiscate all your stuff. Jail doesn’t have good energy.”
“Hmmph,” Scarlet said and stuffed the bag back in her purse.
“I bet this is an entertaining job,” I told him. “I bet you see and hear all kinds of things.”
“Oh man. More than you know. But I’m kind of like a priest. Or Dr. Phil. I gotta keep the trust, man.”
“Yeah, Stella told me things got pretty wild with that guy last Friday.”
Raf went into a fit of giggles and he had to pull to the side of the road until he could get himself back under control.
“Dude…that was insane. Stella told me beforehand that things were going to get pretty hot and heavy and I just had to keep pedaling.” Raf got distracted and started singing the “Just Keep Swimming” song from Finding Nemo, only he changed the word swimming to pedaling.