“I don’t see one,” Mike said and proceeded to tell the captain about Brian Tolworthy. “And right after that, Stefan Vandlo appeared in town and went after Sara with a vengeance.”
“But now you’re planning to marry this girl just to keep her safe?”
“Yes,” Mike said.
“And what about later? After the case is over?” The captain wanted to ask whether this marriage was Mike’s idea or the girl’s, but he didn’t.
Instead, he insisted that Mike return to Fort Lauderdale ASAP so they could set up their plans concerning the fair. They were going to fill the grounds with armed men and women, all of them in disguise as locals. Stefan would be released, and when he got to Edilean, his every move would be watched.
To the captain, this was enough. Mike had done a good job in finding out information and setting up a time and place where they could possibly see the Vandlos together. The girl, Sara Shaw, would be protected. And best of all, from what Mike had said, she wouldn’t be running back to Vandlo out of some misplaced sense of loyalty.
The idea of using the tarot cards as bait was excellent, and he said so.
“You can thank your favorite author for that,” Mike had said. “It was his idea.”
“We need for you to come here right away to brief us and draw some maps,” the captain replied. What he was really thinking was that it was Sunday night and it wouldn’t be possible for Mike to marry his little country girl before he left. Maybe a week in Fort Lauderdale would make him see that the case could be solved without the drastic action of marrying the victim.
But Mike had reported to work this morning wearing a wedding ring.
“So you did it,” the captain said.
“Couldn’t see any other way. If Vandlo wants whatever it is he thinks Sara has, he won’t be able to get it by marrying her.”
“Unless he kills you,” the captain said.
Mike gave a half smile. “That’s the idea, and I plan to make myself highly visible at the fair. I think I’m going to enter a rope jumping contest with a twelve-year-old national champion.”
Mike’s physical skills were well known—and treated with awe. “I’m sure you’ll win.”
“Maybe. This kid is supposed to be good.”
The captain smiled, but it didn’t go to his eyes. He knew Mike was evading the issue. “I want to know about this girl you married. What’s she like?”
“She …” Mike hesitated. He wasn’t about to embarrass himself by talking about how much he enjoyed being with Sara, how she made him laugh, how much he already missed her. He shrugged. “Church on Sunday, good at baking, makes her own clothes. That sort of thing.” He had an image of Sara climbing the tree branch over his head. He remembered her tears and her smiles. And then there had been their wedding night. No, he was going to keep his thoughts to himself. “Small town girl.”
The captain wasn’t like Mike; what he felt showed on his face. “When the case is over we can help you get out of this. We’ll make sure your pension won’t be in jeopardy. You can—”
Mike stood up. “Is that all? I’ve got a lot of people to talk to and things to do.”
“Yeah, sure,” the captain said. “There’s a general meeting at two. See you then.”
Mike left the office to go back to his own desk.
The captain left his door open, and all day he heard men and women coming by to say hello to Mike. He was popular, and since they rarely saw him, when he was there, everyone wanted to visit. Mike’s workouts were legendary so anyone who’d been in a gym in the last six months wanted to show him their biceps. All day there was talk of quads and delts, glutes and triceps. But after that lead-in, what they actually wanted to know was if the rumor that Mike had married a victim was true.
The captain heard the same questions over and over. “Drugs?” they’d ask, meaning was his new wife a user. “Any convictions?”
Mike politely answered their questions but gave no real answers. As usual, he kept his thoughts to himself.
The women teased Mike a lot. One said she would have paid some con artist to cheat her if it meant Mike would rescue her with a marriage.
“Help me! Help me!” one very pretty rookie cried, her hand to her forehead. “Save me with a wedding ring.”
Mike bore it all good-naturedly, but as the day wore on, the captain saw that his smile diminished. But the captain didn’t think it was the teasing that was getting Mike down. There was something else bothering him, but the captain couldn’t figure out what it was. His guess was that Mike was realizing that he’d made a big mistake.
Mike’s actions had been noble as all hell, but the reality was that he was now facing a divorce. If the girl wanted to fight him and say that Mike had tricked her into the marriage, he stood to lose a lot financially.
At two, there was a meeting in the big conference room. As soon as they were seated, a Secret Service agent took over and began outlining the plan to infiltrate the Edilean Fair.
Mike was leaning back in his chair and turning his new wedding ring around and around on his finger. And with every turn, the captain’s frown deepened. Maybe it would be better if Mike didn’t return to Virginia, he thought. It was enough that he’d married the girl. Mike was right when he said that since she was married to someone else, Vandlo couldn’t get to her. Now all they had to do was assign someone to stay at her side, and when Vandlo tried anything, they’d step in. This way, Mike’s life wouldn’t be in jeopardy.
When the Secret Service guy had asked a question, the captain was so distracted he’d asked the man to repeat it. It was obvious that no one else was worried about Mike’s safety, but the captain was.
The door opened, the captain’s secretary came in and handed him a note. What now? he thought as he opened it.
Mike Newland’s wife is downstairs and she says she has the tarot cards.
Captain Erickson had to read it twice before he believed it. His first impulse was to slip out and see the girl for himself. Maybe he’d take her into an empty room and talk to her about what Mike had done for her, “above and beyond” what he needed to do.
But as the captain sat there thinking about what he should do, he knew that what he most wanted was to see how Mike felt about the girl. Today Mike had been moody, even morose. Was it because he knew he’d put himself in an impossible situation?
The captain turned to his secretary who was waiting with her usual impatience. “Go get her and bring her up here,” he whispered.
“Here? To this room?”
“Yeah,” the captain said. “In here.”
He moved to the other side of the table, across from Mike, so he could see out the glass doors. It took a while for his secretary to get down the stairs and lead the girl up through the rabbit warren of doors and long hallways of the Fort Lauderdale Police Department.
When the captain first saw Miss Sara Shaw coming toward them, he sat up straighter. He’d seen a photo of her, but she was prettier than that, with her blonde hair neatly about her shoulders. In a state where women constantly wore tank tops and frayed blue jeans, Miss Shaw’s prim yellow dress was a throwback in time.
The detective next to the captain saw her, and he too stopped listening and stared. He punched the guy next to him, and soon they were all watching Sara walk toward them.
By the time she got to the door, the only person not looking at her was Mike. He seemed to be in his own world as he toyed with his ring and stared into space.
The speaker opened the door for Sara. “Can I help you?” he asked, smiling broadly.
Sara only had eyes for Mike. Taking the few steps to his chair, she stood there watching.
It was a while before Mike heard the silence in the room. When he looked up, he saw Sara standing in front of him.
“Shamus and Luke finished these and I brought them to you,” Sara said, holding out the stack of tarot cards.
Mike just sat there, looking at her.
“I think we should—” the c
aptain began.
He stopped talking when Mike abruptly stood up, grabbed Sara in his arms, and twirled her around. The cards went flying about the room.
“You’re here!” Mike was saying as he kept hugging his wife. No one had ever seen Mike so happy. “You’re really here!”
When he started to kiss her, Sara pushed at his chest. “Maybe you should introduce me.” Her face radiated happiness.
The men who weren’t regulars were on their knees picking up the cards, but the men and women Mike worked with were behind him, all of them eager to meet his wife.
“Yeah, sure,” Mike said as he put her down but kept firm hold of her hand. “This is Sara Sh—” He looked at her. “Newland. Sara Newland, my wife.”
His coworkers stood there staring in silence. They’re in shock, Sara thought, and knew she needed to break the ice. “Notice that the word ‘wife’ nearly choked him,” Sara said. “It’ll take a while for him to adjust to the concept that he’s no longer a free man.”
Everyone, including the captain, laughed. But more important than laughter was that he realized Mike’s moodiness that day had been caused by his missing this pretty young woman. Maybe Mike’s main reason for marrying her was to protect her, but there was more to it than that.
“Speaking of husbands,” Mike said, “I told you you couldn’t come here.”
Sara looked at the captain. “He’s worried that I’ll be lonely in this big, bad city while he’s at work. Is there a possibility that he could have some time off for a three-day honeymoon?”
“Sara, this isn’t the time—” Mike began.
“I think that can be arranged,” the captain said. “Oh, yeah, Mike, I forgot to tell you.” He tossed two keys on a ring to him. “I raised a bit of a ruckus about what had been done to your apartment, and I managed to get you a new one. There is now an FBI agent who’s after my scalp because he was supposed to get this place.” The captain looked at Sara. “Let me know if you like it or not.”
“What about the cards?” the Secret Service agent asked as he held them up.
“Mike will tell us everything tomorrow. You kids go on. Mike, show her some of our beautiful city,” the captain said.
Sara smiled. “I have a friend who grew up in Boca Raton and she gave me a list of places to see. Mizner Park, Town Center, a place called Las Olas?”
When Mike groaned, the others laughed.
“What did I say?” Sara asked in false innocence.
Mike kept his arm around her as he led her down the hall to his department. “You and Joce are a real comedy routine. Mizner Park!” The places she’d mentioned were high-end shopping, but he was smiling as he stopped at his desk, which was neat and clean, with not one personal item on it.
“You have on a gun,” she said.
“Usually do.”
“Not at home you don’t.” She looked around, but the rest of the room was empty of people, just full of desks and heavily laden bookshelves. Now that she was here, she was nervous about how he was going to react. He’d seemed glad to see her at first, but that could have been an act.
“Don’t chicken out now,” he said. “Be brave and take the consequences of your actions.”
“What does that mean?”
He kissed her cheek. “You missed me, didn’t you?”
“Not at all. I just thought you needed to see those cards right away, so I—” He kissed her on the mouth. “Maybe I did miss you a tiny bit, but not much.”
“How’d you get here? That thing you drive couldn’t have made the trip.”
“Joce’s Mini Cooper.”
“So she conspired with you to disobey me?”
“Completely. You want to write her a thank-you note?”
“I’ll answer that after tonight.” He kissed her again, only this time the kiss was more serious.
“Hey Newland!” a man said from the doorway. “Take it outside.”
“You’re just jealous, Ferguson,” Mike answered back. He locked his desk drawer, put his arm firmly around Sara’s waist, and led her to the hallway.
“So where’s your new apartment?” Sara asked.
“I have no idea.” He handed her the keys.
She looked at the tag on the ring. “It’s on Ala Street.”
They were going down the stairs. “Never heard of it. They probably put me in some hole down an alley. Are you sure you read that right?”
“416 Ala Street. All caps.” She gave the keys back to him.
Looking at them, Mike chuckled. “The middle is a number, not a letter. The apartment is on A1A.”
“And where is that?”
“On the ocean, baby. Private beaches. Shall we go see it?”
“I’d love to!”
Sara drove Joce’s car and followed Mike through downtown Fort Lauderdale on to a street called Sunrise. They passed fabulous-looking stores and restaurants, and finally came to a hill that she realized was actually a bridge that sometimes opened to let ships through. It was probably ordinary to the residents but fascinating to Sara. On the other side of the bridge, straight ahead, she could see the ocean. When they got near it, Mike took a left, and she followed him down a narrow street. On the right, the ocean side, were large houses hidden behind high walls and enormous trees. Brilliant-colored flowers cascaded over the walls. On the other side of the street were ordinary-looking motels and apartment buildings, and she assumed Mike would turn in to one of them.
But he didn’t. Just a few blocks down, he turned into a driveway with a high gate set in the walls. At the call box he pushed a button, the gate opened, and Sara followed him inside and parked beside his car. To the left were two other cars.
“Wow!” she said as she looked around. The house was large and two stories—and it looked like something from Old World Hollywood.
“It’s a Mizner repro,” Mike said as though that explained everything and led the way to the front door.
The porch was tile floored, deep and long. “Do you know this house?”
“Quite well,” he said as he unlocked one of the big double front doors. “It used to belong to a money launderer who washed a lot of dirty cash. He got twenty to life, but since he was already eighty-one, I don’t think he’s going to live out his sentence.”
Mike opened the door to a spectacular room. There was an envelope with his name on it on a little table by the door, and while he read it, Sara looked around.
There was one huge room, with a big kitchen in the back to the left, and a living room with a few pieces of white-upholstered furniture. In front of her the whole wall of the house was glass doors that led out to a garden that looked like paradise. Opening a door, she stepped out. To the left, almost hidden behind trees and shrubs that Sara had only seen growing as houseplants, was a swimming pool and a barbecue area. Straight ahead was an opening with a few steps down that she assumed led to a private area of beach.
Mike came out and stood beside her, but he didn’t touch her.
“What did your letter say?” she asked.
“Just explaining things. The upstairs has been divided into two apartments. In the north one lives a motorcycle patrolman and his pregnant wife. The south one contains one of the most successful counterfeiters who ever lived. He’s out on parole now but we keep watch over him. Did you see the rest of the inside?”
She followed him back into the house. Past the kitchen with its granite countertops were two bedroom suites, one of them quite large.
“This used to be Benny the Launderer’s office,” Mike said.
“And you know that because …?”
“I’m the one who brought him down. For an old guy, he put up one hell of a fight.”
Sara walked to the bed. It had a mattress on it, but no sheets or pillows. She ran her hand over the big mahogany headboard, her back to Mike, and wondered if she’d ever see the place after this trip. For all she knew, when the case was finished, Mike would kiss her cheek good-bye. Two weeks later, she’d receive papers fo
r a divorce.
She turned back to him, fully intending to ask about their future together, but when she saw Mike’s eyes, all thoughts left her mind.
She took a step toward him, and the next second he made a running leap as he grabbed her about the waist and they landed on the bed together. Laughing, Sara didn’t have time to catch her breath as Mike began to kiss her. She pushed against him, trying to get closer. They’d only been apart a day and a half, but she’d missed him terribly.
When her skirt came up and she felt Mike’s hand on her bare thigh, her passion was ignited. Seconds later, their clothes were in a heap on the floor and her hands were braced against the headboard. Mike’s thrusts were as deep and as frantic as she felt.
They came together and, as before, he put his mouth over hers to keep her from crying out.
When their shudders had calmed, he pulled her down onto the bed beside him, her head against his bare chest.
Sara lay snuggled against him, her hand stroking his magnificent chest, her fingers feeling the contours of his muscles.
Mike picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips.
“So some FBI agent was to get this apartment?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Mike was grinning.
“Does that mean the rent is affordable?”
“This house was confiscated and now belongs to the U.S. government, and I’m to act as jailer to ol’ Henry the counterfeiter. As I have to make sure he doesn’t create any more fake hundred-dollar bills, the rent is minimum. And as an apology for burning all my stuff, they gave me a check for fifteen grand. Want to help me buy some essentials?”
“Great!” she said. “Sheets, pillowcases, food. Is there any cookware?”
“I’ll go see,” he said and headed toward the kitchen.
Sara had the enormous pleasure of watching him walk out of the room nude, and when he returned, the sight of the naked front of him made her slide down on the bed.
“Every kitchen cabinet and drawer is empty,” he said as he went into the bathroom. “And if you don’t stop looking at me like that the stores will be closed by the time we get out of here.”
Scarlet Nights: An Edilean Novel Page 22