by Mia Gold
So he pretended to go to an AA meeting? Probably got drunk that night too. What a model citizen.
“Why so late?”
“Oh, they always do that. Gives the people somewhere to go on the nights they used to go to the bar.” Her voice was still slurred, slow.
“Did he go out any other night?”
“Why would he do that?” Elaine sounded more awake now, and more baffled.
“I don’t know. Perhaps to try other gambling places. Nassau is full of them. I know someone who can trace ATM card usage. We can find out where he went. I just need the bank information. Not the PIN or card number or anything like that, just the name on the card and the bank that issued it.”
Ruby cringed at the question. She felt like some scammer pretending to be Microsoft tech support.
“Oh, um, all right. The exact name is Richard T. Wainwright, and the bank is First Ohio Credit Union. But … how did he get out of the resort? The security people said the cameras didn’t show him leave.”
Ruby bit her lip, trying to think of what to say. “That’s still a mystery.”
“All right. Do what you can. Come for breakfast tomorrow and I’ll give you another thousand.”
After they said goodbye, Ruby wondered why she hadn’t told Elaine what she had discovered about Richard. To spare her feelings? That was part of it. But also Ruby’s gut told her it might be a good idea to find out more about Richard’s double life before shattering the poor widow’s illusions. He was a liar, sure, perhaps a cheat, but there was still no good reason for someone to want to murder him.
She needed to find out that reason, and soon.
CHAPTER NINE
The fire hydrant shot an arc of water into the lake it had formed in the middle of the road, its rippling liquid sparkling in the streetlight.
The taxi driver cursed and slowed his vehicle. “Looks too deep to drive through. See how the road dips right there? I could stall. I’ll have to go around.”
“Don’t bother,” Ruby said, fishing out some money from her pocket. “My house is really close. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
The driver looked at her over his shoulder, concerned. “You sure? This is a bad neighborhood. After dark—”
“I can take care of myself.”
She paid and got out.
Her footsteps echoed on empty streets. This was a neighborhood of working people and it was a weeknight. People went to bed early, having to get up at dawn to work construction or take care of tourists. She saw a couple of men walking in the distance, and an old woman sitting almost invisible in the shadow of her front porch, watching Ruby pass.
Ruby walked down the middle of the street, away from the shadows and unlit spaces between the bungalows. The air was warm, with a salty breeze drifting in from the sea. She kept her eyes peeled, looking at every spot where someone might hide.
The taxi driver’s fears had been exaggerated. She was not some lone white tourist ripe for the picking. They knew her here. She’d kicked a few asses so they’d know her. Now everyone acted friendly or, better yet, left her alone.
Still, it paid to be careful.
Something made her glance back. No one was in sight. A car turned onto the street in the distance and drove the other direction, its taillights dwindling like two distant stars.
Ruby kept walking, taking a turn onto another street that would take her to her place in less than five minutes.
Again something made her turn. A sound? She neither heard nor saw anything.
She wanted to dismiss this as the stress of the day. Her gut told her different. She listened to her gut like it was her most trusted friend.
Ruby stopped right under a streetlight and stood there for a good two minutes, looking around her. It wasn’t so much to see as to be seen, fists clenched, defiant, ready.
A rapist or mugger on the prowl would take that as a challenge. If he was a coward—like most of them—he’d go find an easier victim. If he thought he could take her even when she was aware, he’d come out of the shadows and show himself.
No one did.
Ruby continued to her house. The feeling of being watched pressed against her like a thousand invisible fingers until she got through the front door, locked and bolted it, and turned on all the lights inside and out.
She sat on her lumpy armchair, taking slow, deep breaths to make herself relax. She kept her ears perked. There was little chance any stalker would try to break in now that the house was illuminated like some seaside casino, but it paid to be aware.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it, and her eyes widened.
Axel Claymore, calling from the States.
A mid-ranked MMA fighter, Axel had trained with Ruby for years. While Ruby had fled to the Bahamas, Axel had a slower and more excruciating decline. His victories began to get mixed in with defeats, and then defeats became as common as victories. He stepped down a bit, going for smaller titles against less experienced opponents. That evened things out for a while.
He still made a living fighting, but Ruby could tell those days were numbered.
She felt sorry. Axel was one of her best friends, a true confidant, and the only person in the States who knew where she was and had her number.
She picked up.
“Hello?” She did not say his name or hers. Always cautious.
She relaxed as Axel’s familiar bass came across the miles.
“Ruby. How you doing?”
Ruby swallowed a lump in her throat and replied, “Been better. I saw your fight with Bartels the other night. Congratulations.”
“A young punk, easy pickings.”
Ruby chuckled. Bartels had come in all arrogance and flashy moves. Axel had danced around him, keeping defensive and upping Bartels’s ego until the newbie left Axel an opening.
Axel might be just over the proverbial hill, but he was not the kind of fighter you left an opening for. Poor Bartels went down for the count.
“So what’s up?” Ruby asked. “Is my dad OK?”
“He would be if you called.”
Ruby sighed. The old conversation.
“I’m not ready.”
“I know. But you should get ready. He’s figured out you disappeared because of the fight, and he feels terrible. He thinks he let you down.”
“He didn’t.” Ruby’s eyes filled.
I let him down.
I took off and left him. Then I failed with the senator and left again.
I keep failing, and keep leaving.
“I know he didn’t let you down. He’s a good man. Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling. Some people have been asking questions about you.”
Ruby felt a chill. “People? What people?”
“FBI, they said. Not sure they were, though. Remember how the FBI came sniffing around when you left the country? Well, the agents who spoke to me said they’d be in touch. They did a couple of follow-up visits a month and then six months later. These guys are different people. When I asked about the other agents, named them, they said they had been reassigned. Plus their questions were different.”
“What did they ask exactly?”
“That’s the thing. The last pair asked me the same things over and over again—if you had called, if I knew where you were, all that. These new guys got way more specific, like they knew something. They asked if you ever spent time down in the Caribbean.”
“Oh, crap.”
“They didn’t seem to know you’re in the … where you are,” Axel was quick to add. “They seemed to be trying to sniff out where you might have gone to. They kept popping out names of islands to see how I reacted. Bermuda. Dominican Republic. Hell, they even named Cuba.”
“Cuba? I’m American. I can’t move to Cuba.”
“They seem to think different. If this is about the senator, they might think …”
Ruby sighed and rubbed her temples. They might think I was behind Senator Wishbourne’s death.
She struggle
d to pull herself together. “Who else did they ask?”
“Everyone. They leaned hard on your dad. They don’t believe you haven’t been in touch.”
Of course they don’t believe that. What kind of daughter abandons her father?
“How’s he holding up?”
“Well, he misses you.” The words carried criticism, judgment.
“I know,” she sighed.
“I haven’t told him anything, like I promised, and I wish I had never made that promise. You sure you don’t want to talk with him? I could set it up. We see each other sometimes. Go for runs. I don’t even have to tell him beforehand if you think that’s safer.”
“No,” Ruby replied, too quickly. “Now’s not the time.”
“Ruby, it’s been three years. When will be the time?”
“With these guys hovering around it’s too risky. Did they mention the place I actually am?” Axel hadn’t said “the Bahamas,” and Ruby decided to be on the safe side too.
“They did. Don’t worry, I kept a poker face. They mentioned a bunch of islands. They definitely know you fled to the Caribbean. They just don’t know where.”
“All right, Axel. Thanks.”
“So how you holding up?”
“Fine. Thanks for calling. Gotta go. Was there anything else?”
“No, but—”
“Thanks. Take care.”
She hung up.
Ruby sat for a moment, rubbing her temples and thinking over this new trouble, then she launched herself out of her seat and power walked to the kitchen.
Her bottle of Bahamian Gold was nearly empty. Cursing, she scoured though the cupboards and fridge. All she found was a lone can of warm beer tucked behind a bag of rice. She stared at it for a second. She didn’t even like beer. Too many calories and it slowed you down. Must have been from some one-night stand, although she couldn’t remember who.
She cracked it open, slugged it down, made a face at the nasty taste, and rinsed her mouth out with some water.
Then she got to work on the Bahamian Gold.
After pouring out a healthy measure, there was barely a finger’s width of the stuff left in the bottle.
She took a sip, enjoying the rich taste and the pleasing warmth it gave, then set the glass down on the counter and headed for the front door. There was a twenty-four-hour liquor store just a couple of blocks away. They didn’t have any top-shelf stuff, but she could find something to carry her through.
Ruby’s hand stopped on the doorknob. Danger lurked out there. She had sensed it on the way home. While she hadn’t seen anyone stalking her, and wasn’t even sure she had heard anyone, her gut told her not to go outside.
I can handle myself.
While that was true, Ruby knew enough about fighting to know that any fight was a risk. She had enough risks in her life at the moment. Besides, even if she beat some guy coming for her tonight, he might still mark her, and those detectives would be curious about any cuts or bruises.
All good reasons, and yet that wasn’t what really made her let go of the doorknob, intending on going back to the kitchen and settling herself down with her meager ration of rum. It was the fact that she had a job to do tomorrow, that a grieving widow who was all alone on the island was counting on her, and that two detectives didn’t buy her story about the body’s discovery.
There may even have been the memory of a little token lying in the back alley, a promise to a wife that hadn’t been kept. A promise Richard had made to himself too, one that he had gone back on and may have led to his death.
She was about to flick off the front light at the switch next to the door, when the doorknob turned.
CHAPTER TEN
Ruby took a step back from the door, watching the scuffed brass knob slowly turn. The door pushed forward a fraction of an inch, only to be stopped by the lock, and the heavy bolt above it.
All this took place in complete silence.
Ruby raised her fists and took another step back, so that if he kicked in the door it wouldn’t hit her. If he did, she’d start with a simple straight kick to the groin or chest, then move in fast to knock aside his weapon arm and land a punch on the Adam’s apple.
But what if that weapon was a gun? No amount of martial arts made fighting a gunman safe. Plus there was no guarantee he was alone.
Hell with it, bring it on.
Ruby focused on the door, ready to pounce.
No. If there’s a shot, the neighbors will call the police. More trouble. Even if he doesn’t have a gun, the sound of a fight might bring the cops, and that’s more trouble once again.
You can’t deal with more trouble right now.
“Cops!” Ruby shouted.
A sound of running feet beyond the door.
Ruby shot over to the window, then hesitated. She didn’t want to make herself a target. She flicked off the living room light and moved to a window further away, peeking out from behind the curtain from the low corner of the window to make the smallest target possible.
She caught a brief glimpse of a dark figure disappearing down the street.
Ruby crouched there, heart hammering her chest, and watched the street outside. She tensed, her nerves on the knife edge, as a car passed along the street. It did not slow or stop.
After that, nothing. The streets remained quiet.
Should she make good on her warning and actually call the cops? Ruby decided against it. She had no description of the prowler, nothing for them to go on, and involving them would surely get back to Detective Anderson—and Detective Pinder. That witch would be sure to make something of it.
As usual, it was up to Ruby to take care of herself.
So who had that been? A simple stalker? No one had messed with her in this neighborhood in months. Could be someone new to the streets or from outside the neighborhood.
Outside the neighborhood …
What if whoever had killed Richard had caught wind of her investigation? She’d been asking questions all over town. The murderer wouldn’t want those questions answered. He could have sent a hitman after her.
But wait, a professional hitman wouldn’t have been so obvious as to try the door. So the murderer, desperate to silence her, might have just hired some simple thug.
That was dangerous enough. Or maybe that had been the murderer himself.
But how had they discovered her address? Few people knew where she lived, and none of them would give that information away.
Ruby sighed. Now she was left with another pile of questions she didn’t have an answer to.
Ruby turned off all the lights inside the house, leaving on only the front porch light and the one in her backyard. Mrs. Strapp, the old lady next door, complained if she left on the back light, saying it shone into her window and kept her awake.
Too bad. This was not a situation where the neighbors’ feelings were a priority, and Mrs. Strapp complained about everything anyway.
Despite fatigue pulling at her eyelids, she snuck around her house for another hour, peering out of every window. No one passed in the street or in the alley behind her fenced-in backyard. She took some time staring at the shadows closest to her home—under the cluster of palm trees across the street, in the lee of a crumbling wall where the streetlamps cast no light, the puddle of darkness beneath a neighbor’s parked delivery truck. Nothing moved in those shadows.
After finally reassuring herself that whoever had followed her home had truly left, she went to sleep, a Bowie knife under her pillow.
***
The bus slowly moved out of Ruby’s ramshackle neighborhood, stopping frequently to take on Bahamian passengers, nearly all of them wearing the uniforms of resorts, restaurants, or casinos. Waitresses. Bartenders. Cleaning staff. Heading to the afternoon shift at the foreigners’ vacation paradise.
As the bus moved into a nicer neighborhood, one where the paint on the houses was not flaking off, where the potholes were not so frequent, the uniforms changed. Ruby recognized the
uniforms of some of the higher end resorts, including the Coast of Dreams. As the stops continued and the neighborhood improved still further, the uniforms of the regular staff were replaced by the conservative suits of management. Each man or woman wore a name tag and that friendly, open look they would have to wear all day.
Ruby felt surprisingly refreshed, despite the stresses of the previous evening. After a long vigil in her house, she had slept ten hours.
She was completely sober, her mind clear, the early afternoon light a bit too harsh. The lines of the objects around her too rigid. There had been no time for her usual beach run followed by a couple of shots.
She had way too much work to do to spend time having a morning drink on the beach. Today she had to see Elaine, talk with Javon’s friend about the ATMs, take another look at the neighborhood around the bar, and, weirdly enough, go to an AA meeting.
Ruby chuckled to herself. Imagine her going to a place like that! But Richard had used the local AA meeting as an excuse for going out one night. Ruby didn’t think he had actually gone there, but there was a chance he had visited just for show, so it would be worth following up.
That AA token still bothered her. Had it been Richard’s? Or perhaps someone in the AA group who did him in? If so, why had it disappeared from the alley sometime between the night she discovered the body and the following evening?
She checked her watch and cursed. She was going to be late. Thanks to the cops, she didn’t have money for the taxi. When the bus finally did stop near the Coast of Dreams, it didn’t actually stop at the resort but a quarter mile down the street at a gas station. There was a tourist bus that stopped at all the resorts, but you had to use your room card to board it. The resorts didn’t want a bunch of working class locals mingling with the guests.
This time, Ruby had spruced herself up as well as she could, wearing the last clean clothes she had. She reminded herself to go to the Laundromat, but when would she have the time? There was nothing she could do about her raggedy shoes, however, and she still felt out of place as she crossed the marble football field of the front lobby.