Key West

by Stella Cameron

  His laughter made her smile. “Υοu’re welcome, ma’am. Just thought you might like to know that.”

  “Well, it’s the kind of information that could come in useful one day.”

  “Was it okay for me to interfere? Make sure your sister and her friend got out of Dodge?”

  Trembling inside over a few trivial comments showed how lonely she must be. “Ι’m very grateful you did. But now I’ve got to speak with Billy and make sure she knows I wasn’t myself when she arrived.”

  “You weren’t?”

  What was she supposed to say?

  “You mean because you were in those wonderful pajamas—did I tell you how much I like those pajamas—is that why? You were in your pajamas, and you knew she’d think I spent the night with you?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I did spend the night with you, Sonnie.”

  The cool cotton dress she wore wasn’t cool enough. “Not technically.”

  His laughter lasted longer this time. When he caught his breath, he said, “Technically, yes, we did spend the night together. And technically we slept together, too. What we didn’t do was…know each other, as it’s written somewhere. But you didn’t ask for all that explanation, did you? I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable because of anything I did.”

  “Thank you for what you did—and said,” she told him hurriedly. “I’ve been pushing myself at you from the minute we were introduced. You’ve been very kind, and I know I’ve been a nuisance.”

  When the silence went on and on and he still didn’t answer, she said, “I’m sorry about that.”

  He paused a while longer before saying, “Is Jim Lesley a friend of yours?”

  “He came with—oh, you mean did I meet him before. No.”

  “And he’s nothing special to Billy, as far as you know?” She thought about that. “It’s hard to be sure. When you look like Billy, men hover. I wouldn’t expect her to be with him if he didn’t interest her.”

  “There are a lot of ways to be interesting. You’ve given me the answers I expected. I asked a few questions about Jim Lesley.”

  “Why?” She’d like to tell Chris that he interested her in lots of ways. “How would you find out anything about a man you saw for only a few minutes? You wouldn’t know where to start.”

  He tutted. “With so much faith in me, you must have been desperate when you asked me to work for you. I’ve got to go, Sonnie. But Jim Lesley is Dr. James V. Lesley. He’s a psychiatrist and he runs an expensive, very discreet sanitarium. Sorry to rush. Maybe we’ll talk later.”

  The line went dead—not that she could have formed a response.

  She should see Billy. Now. Ask her what she thought she was doing.

  Calling Billy at the club, accusing her of bringing a psychiatrist to evaluate her sister, would be a bad move. Sonnie replaced the phone on the desk. She was fine, and she’d prove it without confronting family members who only wished her well.

  The recollection of Chris in the kitchen, dressed only in jeans slung low on his hips—and a tattoo—made her grin. Billy might well be wondering about her mousy younger sister, but what the hell?

  Sonnie went into the hall and through the open front door. The gardenia bush was to the right, and she picked another flower, this one to thread behind her ear.

  A flash of orange and lime green alerted her to the approach of Just Ena. Using the gap in the hibiscus hedge to get into Sonnie’s yard, the woman wiggled her fingers as she tripped forward in thongs that sported green rubber flowers.

  “Hello, Ena,” Sonnie said. It was time to make very sure everyone knew how pleasant and ordinary she was. “How are you?”

  “I’m just wonderful. It’s you I’m worried about. Now you just tell me to go away and mind my own business if you like, but I wouldn’t be a good neighbor if I didn’t make sure everything’s all right over here. I’ve been trying to decide what I should say to you for hours. Of course, your friend was here. Then the man and woman visited. But—”

  “My sister, Billy, and her friend. They came down from Denver to see me. I’m from Denver.”

  “I knew that,” Ena said. “I don’t want that to sound as if I’m a busybody, but everyone knows you’re one of the Denver Keiths. Beer. Your sister’s as lovely as she used to look on television.”

  Ena paused, and Sonnie smiled. She wasn’t going to encourage her neighbor to discuss any of the very public facts she might know about Billy.

  “It’s a shame. Maybe she was too young to deal with that kind of high life. All the partying. The drinking.” Ena’s eyes let Sonnie know she was talking about Billy’s drinking in particular, about Billy getting into trouble because of her drinking. There had been other, more destructive abuses, but their father had managed to intervene while Billy could still be saved.

  “Yes, well,” Ena said at last, “I was talking about that man—I mean the one who was here last night. He’s not from Denver, is he?”

  Nothing was going to get past Ena. “No, he’s not from Denver. He’s Roy Talon’s—”

  “No, no, I don’t mean that great big man with the motorcycle. I was talking about the other one.”

  Romano? “My brother-in-law?”

  Ena’s carefully made-up face registered irritation. “The other Mr. Giacano? No, no. I know who he is. Last night. Oh, I knew I should have called right away when I saw him, but I thought he must be someone you know. How would he get in otherwise?”

  Sonnie gave Ena her full attention. With her every breath catching, she didn’t realize she’d reached for the woman until she held her soft hands. “Please, Ena, be very clear. What time was this? Where was this man? Did you see his face—or anything that might remind me who he is?”

  “I couldn’t see his face,” Ena said. “I was too far away. It was late, so I was inside. I don’t even know what made me get out of bed and look out of the window. He was up there on the balcony. Not near your husband’s rocking chair. Right outside those French windows. They were open, so I just thought he must have come from in there. But the more I thought about it, the more I worried. After all, that’s your bedroom, isn’t it?”

  Sonnie glanced over her shoulder and said, “Yes. Where did he go?”

  Ena squeezed Sonnie’s hands. “You do know who I mean and you’re afraid I’ll tell someone, aren’t you? Well, I won’t, and that’s a promise. Α woman’s got a right to her own business, that’s what I say. I know you were home, and he went back in the bedroom. And you’re looking much more cheerful today.” She gave a conspiratorial smile. “Good for you, that’s all I can say. You’ve been through a lot. If you can find some comfort, well then, I’d be the last one to criticize.”

  “Come on in, Roy,” Chris said. His brother had let himself in and taken the only comfortable chair in the room. He stretched his legs, and tossed his hat on the handlebars of the Harley.

  “Yes, bro,” Chris continued, “I insist you get in here and make yourself at home.”

  “I am at home. This place belongs to me.”

  “True enough. But I do pay rent.”

  “Not much.”

  “Υou won’t take much. You never would. Let’s quit fighting. What burr did you sit on?”

  Hitching at his jeans, Roy sat straighter and fixed Chris with a hard stare. “Where were you last night?”

  Roy’s tone set Chris’s teeth on edge. “I was doing a good deed. Okay?”

  “And the recipient of the good deed?”

  Pacing because he was afraid he might do something he’d regret if he didn’t, Chris crossed his arms over his bare chest and trapped his hands beneath his arms.

  “Chris,” Roy said. “Were you at Sonnie’s?”

  “Back off.”

  “Were you?”

  Chris swung around. “What the—what does it matter if I was? Yes. Yes I was at Sonnie’s. That’s one mixed-up woman you’ve got working for you.”

  “She’s one special woman, and if you mess with her,
you’d better be ready to find me in your face.”

  “When did you become her father? Or anybody’s father, damn it?”

  Roy ran his fingers through his red hair. He didn’t take his eyes off Chris. “I’m not going to rise to that. Have you ever thought I might like to be someone’s father?”

  Chris felt himself turn red. “Forget what I said. Fate deals some bad stuff.”

  “Not so bad. You get the hand you’re dealt, that’s all. I’ve been a lucky man. I am a lucky man. Don’t feel sorry for me.”

  Damn my big mouth. “No, I won’t. I don’t. I went over to Sonnie’s because she called and sounded upset.”

  “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with her. You turned her down, didn’t you? Told her you wouldn’t work for her?”

  Chris looked speculatively at Roy, then went to make sure the door was locked. He pulled down the Murphy bed and smoothed the covers before sitting on the corner nearest the chair.

  A massive frown ruckled Roy’s brow and he leaned forward.

  “You know I’ve told you how I get these feelings from time to time,” Chris said. “Bunch of shit, of course, but still I do get ‘em.”

  “You always did. Used to drive Mom nuts.”

  “No one ever believed me. They thought I was making it up.”

  “I believed you. You called it on the night when the cops came for Daddy the first time. And you knew about the baby. It—”

  Chris held up a hand. “We’re not going back there. Sorry. We’re never going there again.”

  “No.” Roy’s eyes slid away. “But I’ve got faith in your feelings.”

  “I wish I didn’t. Sonnie called me. She was crying. When I answered, she said she’d dialed the wrong number, and she hung up. I went right over there and she was in some state. Nightmare. The kind we’d rather not have from the look of her.”

  “And?” Roy had grown very still.

  “She was exhausted. Sick. She tried to persuade me to move into that house with her.”

  “She what?” Roy stood up. “I don’t friggin’ believe you. She’s not that kind οf—”

  “Not that kind of woman? She surely isn’t. And she wasn’t inviting me to cohabit. She wanted me to take some rooms there. Fear is what’s going on with her. She’s scared out of her mind.”

  Roy’s magnificent frown returned. “What’d you say when she asked?”

  “No. What else could I say? I sat in the room through the night while she got some sleep. I left this morning.” He wasn’t going to mention the family arrival.

  “Why didn’t you agree to move in?”

  “Why, bro, you surprise me. A Gοd-fearin’ man like you. Move into a house with a woman who isn’t my wife?”

  “You smart-mouthed kid. She needs help and she trusts you. Don’t ask me why—bad taste, I guess. But if that’s what would make her feel better, that’s what you should do.”

  “I live here. I like it here. I don`t do well in cozy arrangements. Remember?”

  “That was different.”

  He didn’t feel like discussing his defunct marriage. “She was like a drowned rat, Roy. Her pajamas were soaked with sweat. She had to take a shower.”

  “That right?”

  The innocent look on Roy Talon’s face didn’t fool Chris. The man had just turned two and two into five. “It isn’t the first time I’ve slept in a chair. I was glad to do it. Sonnie’s a nice woman, and I believe her that she’s in trouble.”

  “Do you? How long is it since you were with a woman?”

  Chris bit back what he’d like to say. “I just told you. I was with Sonnie last night.”

  That earned him an evil leer. “You know what I mean.”

  “If you mean what Ι think you mean, Sonnie Giacano is married. Her husband was abducted and we should all be hoping he turns up and looks after her.”

  “He never looked after her when he was here,” Roy said. “Why would that change?”

  “Doesn’t alter the fact that she’s not free.”

  “Big deal. She’s unhappy. I think that egotistical bastard made her life hell. I don’t know what she’s looking for. But I’m not the cop.”

  “Ex-cop.”

  “Ex-cop, then. You’re having feelings about her. The bad kind. And maybe the good kind, too. But if you’re having feelings about Sonnie, I’d lay odds she’s in big trouble and you’ve got a responsibility to look out for her.”

  “Like hell.” He attempted a scoffing sound but it wasn’t a good effort.

  “Don’t take your eyes off her for too long,” Roy said, and his absolute sincerity wasn’t in question. “From the way I look at it, only desperation would make her come back to the Keys alone. I’ve got it figured that she thinks someone might be after her and she’s had the guts to draw them here because this is where it all started. Does that sound just way off?”

  Chis wished it did. “I’m not taking my attention away from her for too long, Roy. Okay?”

  “Yeah.” Roy got up and embraced Chris. “Yeah. You don’t know how much better that makes me feel. She doesn’t have anyone—not really. She needs us.”

  Later Chris would fill Roy in about the brother-in-law and the sister—and the tame shrink.

  The door opened without a knock and Bo stuck his head into the room. “Did either of you expect Sonnie tonight?” he asked.

  Chris jerked to his feet and hitched up his sweatpants. “She’s off tonight. Why?”

  “She’s come in. Doesn’t look great, but she insists she’s going to work. She wants to work.”

  “Then she works,” Roy said. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you, Bo?”

  “Hell, no. She’s a great gal. The customers think she’s great. They talk about hοw they love the way she talks and hοw she’s polite to everyone. Old Taffy wanted me to know how she treats him with respect. Seems respect has been something Taffy’s missed.”

  “You’d better get back in,” Roy said.

  Bo nodded, but didn’t leave. He and Roy exchanged a look and Roy followed Bο outside.

  No more than a minute passed before Roy came back. “Look, I think I had a day off once, but I can’t remember.”

  The kind of setup Roy aimed to pull wasn’t hard to spot. “That’s too bad,” Chris said.

  “Yeah. Man of my age needs to take better care of himself. Now, I don’t trust many people to take my place, but if you were to offer tonight, I’d let you do it. Yes, sir, I’d be grateful and I’d step aside with a light heart.”

  “You expect me to saunter in there and tell Sonnie you just decided to take the night off because you’re tired, so I’m stepping in. You don’t think she’ll see through that.”

  “Shee-it,” Roy said. “Does it matter? Will she care why you’re there when she’s only here because she wants to see you?”

  “You don’t know that. Maybe she just doesn’t want to be at home.”

  “Οh, well, that would mean she’s really in fine shape, wouldn’t it?” Roy pointed a long finger. “Okay, here’s the scoop. Sonnie told Bo she couldn’t stay at home. She said she thought she had a nightmare last night, but now she’s found out that what she saw—some man—was probably the real thing.”

  With one eye on the door to the back, Sonnie set out a round of beers for a group of intrepid tourists, all wearing Tshirts covered with logos that read, The Bars of Key West. The Tshirts hung or stretched, according to the torso adorned. Each man was equally loud.

  “Hey, hey,” a man with a shaved head said, hammering a fist on the counter. “Wassyourname? You, the little stuck-up one—wassyourname?”

  Sonnie smiled at him and said, “I’m Sonnie. The coffee’s great here. We’re famous for our coffee.”

  “I don’t want no fuckin’ coffee.”

  “Not in front of the lady.” Taffy, one of the men who fished off Key West, swung around on his stool and looked at the latest charm-school graduate. “Maybe you better do your drinkin’ somewhere else.”


  “This your place, fat man?”

  Taffy’s toothless jaw set. Soft around the edges, but still bigger than he was fat, he got off the stool. “The Nail belongs to two of my best friends.”

  “The faggots who were here earlier?” the man shouted, bending double to laugh. “Figures. One asshole knows another, right?” He laughed uproariously at his brilliance.

  Despite the warmth of the night, Sonnie felt cold. She felt even colder and much more horrified when Billy—wearing a leopard-print jumpsuit, a matching scarf over her head and tied around her neck, and huge, very dark glasses—sidled into the Nail and took a seat near the windows.

  And that was the moment when Taffy brought his interlaced fists upward and under the loudmouth’s jaw. The crunch that sounded rendered the whole bar silent. Groaning, the man folded. Blood ran from his nose and the corners of his mouth to the sawdust-scattered floor.

  “Shit,” one of his companions said in a loud whisper.

  Bo came through the back door, surveyed the scene, and promptly positioned himself in the middle of the fray. A skinny man he might be, but he was wiry, and Sonnie knew how strong he was.

  Sonnie prayed for Billy to leave, but she pulled out a cigarette instead and lit up, blowing a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “What started this?” Bo asked. “Taffy—”

  “My fault,” Sonnie said. “I mentioned coffee, and…” She turned up her palms.

  Bo studied the swaying group and said, “We can see how many more of us can end up bleeding all over my floor, or maybe coffee would be a good idea. What do you say, guys?” There was a muttered, “Flamin” faggot.” But several others said, “Sure.”

  “You want to call the police?” Bo asked the man who was down, and checked his mouth. “Nothing broken. Your teeth went into your lips.”

  “Fuckin’ hurts,” he said, sniffing and smearing blood from his nose on the back of an arm. “No cops.”

  “He swore at the lady,” Taffy said. “Don’t no one swear at Sonnie.”

  “No, they don’t,” Bo said. “Maybe you should move on.”

  “We ain’t finished our beers.”

  Bo nodded. “Drink up and move on.”

  Roy joined the grumbling assembly. “Hey there, Sonnie. You’re a workhorse. Thanks for coming in.”