“What’s so strange is that you were closer to him than I was,” Kayla said. “I hadn’t spoken to him in a decade so it’s like I have to learn who he was all over again.”
“He spoke about you.” Sakina stuck her sharp chin out, raising an unkempt eyebrow. “All the time. He missed you and wished things had gotten better between you.”
“It’s too late for that.” Kayla settled her purse in her lap. “But, I can make it right now by finding out who killed him.”
“What?” Sakina batted her almond-shaped eyes. “Is that why you’re here? To find out who killed Kirby?”
“Can you think of a better reason for me to be here?”
“What she talking about, Tate?” Sakina pointed her long finger at him. “What makes her think she can find out who it is when the police can’t?”
“I have to try.” Kayla touched her slacks. “Do you know anything at all that might help me?”
“I’d be shouting it from the rooftops, girl.” Sakina grimaced. “All I want is to find out who took my Kirby away. But it is impossible. The police have no leads or suspects.”
“Nothing’s impossible and even if it is I’ve gotta try.”
“Jamaica is dangerous.” Sakina wiggled her wide nose. “You can’t go around sniffing.”
“Kayla’s not the type to back away from anything.” Tate smirked. “I kinda like that about her.”
“There were a lot of things I loved about Kirby,” Sakina said. “But he didn’t know when to keep his mouth closed. He’d say anything and everything to anyone. Offend at will.”
Kayla nodded. “That was Kirby all right.”
“I used to tell him that his mouth would get him in trouble one day.” Sakina shook her head, huffing. “But I was just the little woman. He didn’t listen.”
“Did my brother offend the wrong person?”
“One time when we were having dinner out, these guys pulled him from the table. They looked like Rastas, but I can’t be sure.”
“Rastafarians?” Kayla asked.
“I’ve seen them around but don’t know them.” Sakina shrugged, holding her palms outward. “They just dragged him from the table and out the restaurant. He came back bothered but wouldn’t say why. Now I wonder if they had something to do with this.”
“Why would Rastafarians want my brother dead?” Kayla asked Tate. “Was he in the religion?”
“This is the first time I’ve heard of Kirby and any Rastafarians.” He rubbed the faint blond hairs on his chin. “Did you tell the police this?”
Sakina nodded. “I told Inspector Wright, and he said he’d look into it but without knowing who they were and how to find them, it’s hard.”
Kayla exhaled. “Is there anything else?”
“I wish there were.” Sakina hugged the lime green pillow. “Do you have a picture of your brother?”
“Not a recent one.”
Sakina went to the pictures on the wall and took the one of Kirby with a surfboard. “Take it.”
Kayla ogled the picture of Kirby smiling as if he owned the world. “He surfed?”
“Oh, yeah,” Tate said. “Loved it. I suck at it though.”
Kayla sighed. “I can’t take this.”
“He would want you to have it.” Sakina rubbed Kayla’s hand. “He loved you more than anything.”
KAYLA SPED toward the liquor cabinet as soon as she got to her hotel room. “I need a drink.”
“I enjoyed hanging with you today.” Tate peeked through the hall of brown and beige tones then closed the door. “You’re a breath of fresh air.”
“I’m a wreck.” Kayla poured red wine into a champagne glass and pushed the rim to her fat, valentine lips. “I don’t know if I can hold it together much longer.” She stood barefoot on the magenta rug. “Thank you again for taking me to see Sakina. She put a lot in perspective.”
“Did she?” Tate shook away the fantasy of having her lips wrapped around his rod, sucking the breath from his body.
“Yeah.” Kayla sat on the full-sized bed, twisting her finger into the end of her hair. “The Rastafarians might be the ones who killed him.”
“But, why would Rastafarians kill Kirby?” Tate stooped in front of her, admiring how her milk chocolate skin glowed in the overhead light. “He had nothing to do with religion.”
“Seems like every time someone is killed on a movie or something they have secrets.” She folded her legs Indian-style. “Isn’t it possible he could’ve been hiding something?”
“Not from me.” Tate turned his watch around his wrist. “We shared everything.”
“Everything?” Her long nose drooped.
“Okay not everything.” He bounced on his heels, still stooping. “But, he was my boy and if it were something serious, I can’t see him not telling me.”
“Maybe he wouldn’t have told you if he was into something bad or if he felt you’d be in danger if he told.”
He reveled in her minty perfume. “No.”
“I’m grasping at straws?” She touched the side of her angular face.
He sat beside her on the bed, butt sinking into the soft mattress.
“This Rastafarian thing might be something, right?”
“I guess so.”
She squinted, watching him from the corner of her eyes. “Are you afraid that you might not have known Kirby as well as you assumed?”
He fought reaching up and caressing her gorgeous face just to see if her skin felt as smooth as it looked.
“Maybe. Are you?”
She wiggled her toes. “Everyone I’ve met so far seems to know him a hell of a lot better than me. Oh.” She jiggled the smidge of wine in the glass. “Did you say you wanted a drink?”
“I’m not a wine guy.”
“They have Scotch and stuff.” She scooted to the edge of the bed, looking toward the liquor cabinet.
It gave Tate the chance to check out her pronounced ass again.
“You want something else?” She batted her eyes.
Your lips.
“No.” He cleared his throat. “I gotta be getting home.”
“One drink won’t hurt.”
“Ah, but one could lead to two and then three.” He tapped her shoulder. “Getting drunk won’t help anything.”
“It’ll numb the senses.” She lay on the bed, her size D bra cups pressing against her blouse.
Tate closed his eyes and exhaled. “Jesus.”
She moved her arm under her head. “You think Kirby had other lovers?”
He picked lint off his shirt.
“One thing I remember about my brother is that he was always the player. I can’t see that changing once he moved here.”
“He used to play around before he got with Sakina but they’ve been solid since.” He snapped his fingers. “Kirby loved her and seemed like he’d have married her.”
Kayla rose, frowning. “Are you sure? He used to cheat on everyone he was with.”
“He’d changed.” Tate rubbed his hands. “That’s what love does.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” She pressed the glass to her lips. “Did love change you?”
He scratched through his curls. “I did my dirt back in the day, but I fell in love and gave her every part of me.”
“You sound resentful.”
“I’d met a wonderful woman who I wanted to be with forever but it didn’t work out that way. She cheated on me and broke my heart.” He tapped his foot. “Sometimes I wonder if it was payback for how I treated women I were with back in the day.”
“I believe in Karma.” She held a sneaky smile. “We all make mistakes and if you changed that’s commendable.”
“God, I loved her.” Jewel’s lovely face popped into his mind. “I would’ve given her the world if she’d wanted it.”
“She sounds like a fool.”
“Yeah, well.” He stared at the Welcome to Jamaica sign. “That’s life. What about you? Any great romances in your past?”
/> “Hm.” She looked up, grinning. “I wouldn’t say great. The closest I’ve gotten was ‘good and getting to great’ but he had to fuck it up so—”
“He cheated on you?”
“Cheated and had a baby with the woman.”
“What?” He leaned back, grimacing. “And you had no idea?”
“Not until the woman showed up at our house with the baby.”
“Whoa so you lived with this dude?” He pointed downward. “I lived with my girl too. We were together three years.”
She whistled. “I was with my guy for two. I still can’t believe he thought he could juggle a woman on the side with a baby and not get caught.” She rolled her eyes. “Then when he did, he kept swearing he loved me and would do better. Yeah, right.”
“This guy…” He dug the toe of his sneaker into the carpet. “Was he black?”
She watched him as if she wondered why he’d asked. “No, he was Mexican.”
“So, what race of guys do you usually date?”
She stroked her thigh. “Um…”
He waved his hands. “If I’m being too personal than let me know.”
“I date people because we click and because they’re special. That has nothing to do with race.”
“I agree.” He did a quick nod. “That means you’ve dated white guys?”
She grinned. “Are you asking me if I’m into white guys, Tate?”
“No.” He fidgeted. “I mean…I was just wondering.”
“Yes, I’ve dated white guys. I meet most of my men in the bar scene since that’s where I spend all my time. That I meet them in bars might explain why I keep getting my heart broken. Not sure you can find the love of your life in a bar.”
“I met my ex in a bar.” He frowned. “Oh, bad example.”
She laughed.
“You’re different.” He nudged her. “You throw me off.”
She flicked her hair. “How?”
“Well, we’ll be going along talking and you’ll just say something that surprises me, and I like that.”
“And, you’re funny.” Hints of red sprouted within her brown cheeks. “I’ve laughed the most today than I have since Kirby died. Thank you for that.”
“Laughter is the best medicine.”
“How was your tour?”
“I spent the evening with a bunch of horny, grouchy old church ladies from Chicago.”
She guffawed.
“It was interesting.”
“A tour sounds fun. I don’t get out much. The last trip I’ve been too was Disney World. This is my first time out of Florida.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“No.” She held up her finger. “I don’t travel.”
“That’s a shame. I’ve traveled all over.” He swiped his hand through the air. “I’ve been to Asia, Africa, all over Europe.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I left my boring ass office job in Jersey and never looked back. Just got my shit and hopped on a plane and that was it. I wanted to go everywhere I could. Like with women back then, I couldn’t be faithful to just one place because they were all so magnificent.”
She smiled.
“Traveling is living and seeing life. You meet other cultures, you try new things, you pick up knowledge you can’t get out a book or off the Internet. It changes you to the core. I speak nine different languages.” He said a few sentences in Portuguese, Russian, and Swahili. “You have to travel.” He patted her knee.
“What made you be faithful to Jamaica?”
“Oh, that’s my queen there.” He smirked. “She got my heart. The minute I got here, I knew Jamaica was my home. Kirby said the same thing.”
“Bartending is like that for me. It’s more than serving drinks but it’s putting a smile on someone’s face and listening to their problems while entertaining them. At that moment when that person sits at my bar I’m in control. I’m the most important person in the room.”
“Is that what you long for? To be in control?”
A strand of hair caught between her lips. “Don’t we all?”
He brushed her hair from her face.
She looked at him and it brought the pleasure he used to get when he first met Jewel times one thousand.
“Whatever you need…” He stared at her puckered lips. “I’ll do it.”
“Thanks.” Her breath caught in her throat.
“Have any idea how long you’ll be in Kingston?”
“I’m not going back until I find out something or at least until I’m confident that cop will get off his ass and do his job.”
“It broke my heart to hear you’ve never been out of Florida.” He slapped his thighs as he stood. “You’re here in one of the most seductive islands in the world and you’re gonna make the most of it.”
“Am I?
“I won’t take no for an answer. You can’t spend every moment on Kirby’s murder. It’s not healthy.”
“That’s what I came here for, Tate.”
“That’s what you thought you came here for.” He chewed his lip. “You didn’t expect to meet me.”
“No.” She parted her lips. “I didn’t.”
“Glad you did?” He chuckled. “I can’t let you be here and not see the sights. How about you come on my tour tomorrow? It’s a group of ten, well eleven if you come. Kirby would want you to have fun.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“You’ll be with me, woman.” He threw up his arms. “Aren’t you having fun now? Don’t I take your mind off things?”
She locked her stare on him. “You do.”
He lowered his arms. “Can I kiss you?”
Fuck.
He slammed his eyes shut then opened them, surprised at her calm expression. “What’s wrong with me?”
“It’s okay.”
“I hope you don’t think I’m a jerk, but I’m attracted to you.” He moved his hand back and forth between them. “I’m sure you feel it.”
“I have to stay on course, Tate.” She stood, leaning to the side. “Kirby’s what’s important.”
He pushed his face into his palms. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It was sweet.” She touched his shoulder, pressing the tips of her fingers into his skin. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but I’m not looking for anything other than answers. I hope that doesn’t change anything.”
“Oh, no.” He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of his pants. “Still doesn’t stop me from feeling like a moron.”
“Does the offer still stand to go on the tour tomorrow?”
“Definitely.” He tilted his head back. “We’ll leave at ten. I’ll come get you.” He went to the door. “Good night.”
“Where are we going, anyway?”
He turned from the door, winking. “On your first adventure.”
CHAPTER 4
Tate’s phone rang as he got off the hotel elevator. He checked the ID and Jewel’s name appeared on the screen. “You gotta be kidding me.” He stuffed the phone back into his pocket and exited the hotel. By the time he spotted his black jeep in the lot, his phone rang again so he answered, “Stop calling me!”
“I wanna see you.”
“You got to stop this shit, Jewel.” He climbed into the jeep. “I’m serious. You need help.”
“I might know something about Kirby’s murder.”
Tate twisted the key into the ignition. “You’re lying.”
“How can you say I’m lying?” Her accent clung to the end of her words.
Tate put the phone on speaker and backed out the parking space. “You’d do anything and everything to get back into my bed. It ain’t happening.” He sped out the lot and turned onto the street. “If you know something go to the police.”
“Why are you being this way?”
“Because you’re a lying bitch.” He hit the steering wheel. “I’m sick of your shit, and I want you out my life.”
“That woman you’ve been with all
day…” She exhaled. “Is that Kirby’s sister?”
“What?” He glanced at the phone. “None of your damn business. Stop following me.”
“You sure moved on fast for someone so hurt.”
“Hey, you have no fuckin’ right to lecture me after what you did.” He made a swift right through a street full of food trucks and stands. “I’m helping her find out what happened to him. That’s all.”
“I watched you.” She sucked her teeth. “Saw how you were looking at her. It’s the same way you used to look at me.”
“What the fuck you been doing, hiding behind shrubs and shit?” He grabbed the phone. “I’m giving no more warnings, Jewel. If you come near me or call me again, I’m getting a restraining order. Fuck off.”
“Tate…”
He hung up and threw the phone in the passenger’s seat. “Crazy bitch.”
THE NEXT DAY
Tate showed the tour group the 80-seat theater of the Bob Marley Museum on the property of the late musician’s home.
Kayla and the tourists walked around, mesmerized by the enchanting space.
Afterwards, they checked out the huge photo gallery, and Tate and Kayla separated from the group and stopped inside the gift shop.
“My goodness.” Kayla stood amongst racks and shelves full of Bob Marley memorabilia.
“Welcome.” A dark-skinned man in a Bob Marley T-shirt stood behind the counter flashing a bright smile. “How are you today?”
“This place is incredible,” Kayla gushed. “I read about it on the Internet but it didn’t do it justice.”
“It’s Bob Marley’s legacy in one place,” the Jamaican boasted. “Got T-shirts, hats, CD’s, mugs, anything you want.”
The other tourists mingled into the shop as Kayla looked through a calendar with pics of Marley live on stage.
“Can you imagine being this loved by so many people?” she asked.
“Hm.” Tate stood beside her.
“What a wonderful person he must’ve been,” Kayla said. “There’s a difference between a singer and a legend and Bob is a legend.”
“There’ll never be another like him.” Tate tried on a cap with Marley’s picture on the front.
“Thank you.” She tingled when she caught the glint in his eyes. “It’s been a lot of fun, and I’m glad I came.”
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