by Mia Gold
Zoomer stood up on the table and offered Tim a nut.
“I think that’s a peace offering,” Ruby said.
Tim gingerly took it, looking as if he expected the monkey to bite his fingers at any moment. He popped it in his mouth.
“Thanks,” he told Zoomer, then turned to Ruby. “I can’t believe I’m talking to a monkey.”
“It’s all right. I do it a lot too.”
Sanyjah came up, looking worried. “What just happened with that couple?”
“Tourist entitlement freakout,” Ruby said.
“I’m used to those,” the waitress said. “They walked out without paying, though. The next person to freak out will be my boss.”
“I’ll pay their bill,” Tim said. “It’s the least I can do for your trouble.”
“Thanks,” Sanyjah said, giving him a warm smile. Ruby remembered he got those from a lot of women. It always made Ruby a bit jealous, especially after a certain night.
That was years ago, Ruby told herself. Focus on the present.
“Would you like anything to eat or drink?” Sanyjah asked Tim.
“A sesame bagel toasted with cream cheese.”
“You’re not on the East Coast, Tim,” Ruby said. He relied on his morning bagel like some people relied on their morning coffee.
“Sorry, no bagels,” Sanyjah said. “How about our special, a breakfast tropical fruit plate?”
“And a bottle of Bahamian Gold,” Ruby added, causing Tim to give her a stunned look. “And then lots of privacy. We have some things to talk about.”
“Coming right up.”
“What’s this?” Tim asked, gesturing at her half-empty glass of rum.
“Don’t nag. Let’s get down to business.”
Zoomer offered Tim another nut.
“Looks like we are friends now,” Tim said, taking it.
“He’s good at sensing whether people are good or bad.”
Tim sighed, running a hand through his close-cropped hair. “If only we were.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Ruby said, taking a slug.
“It’s nine in the morning,” Tim said.
“Can it. Tell me what’s going on. First off, who are you working for now?”
“Still a bodyguard. After Wishbourne got killed I couldn’t find work in Washington anymore. I moved to New York and now I work for Fiona Cutter.”
“The supermodel?”
“The same,” Tim said with a smile.
“What else do you do for her?” Ruby asked, her jealousy rising again.
“Nothing, I like women with a little meat on their bones. Her idea of lunch is a coffee and a cigarette. Hello.”
Sanyjah had returned with the breakfast and bottle.
“Thank you, this looks wonderful,” Tim said, standing and taking the plate off her tray. “I think this will be my regular breakfast spot. The view is beautiful.”
But Tim wasn’t looking at the view. He was looking at Sanyjah.
“We’re always happy to have you,” the waitress said with a smile. She glanced at Ruby, seemed to remember her comment about privacy, plunked the bottle down on the table, and left.
“So you’re out of the loop,” Ruby said.
“Yes and no. I still got a lot of contacts in D.C.—Ryan, Howard, Diedre. Congressman Miller.”
Ruby nodded. The first three people he named were bodyguards for politicians.
Tim went on. “So I’ve been hearing things. And the State Department has questioned me about you and the assassination about a billion times. They still suspect you, of course. They seem to have given up on other lines of inquiry.”
“But what’s the motive? Why would I kill someone who helped me?”
Tim grimaced. “They think you were involved in all her shady dealings. That some deal went sour and you killed her and took off with her fortune.”
“Her fortune?”
“Apparently the Saudis gave her a bunch of gold bricks and diamonds as a bribe. Totally untraceable. They were missing from her home safe.”
“I didn’t take them.”
“I know you didn’t. I saw that dump where you’re living. Yeah, it was me who tried to break in.”
“Why the hell would you do that?” Ruby asked, her suspicion rising again.
“I wanted to catch you unawares, ask you straight out what you knew when you were at a disadvantage.”
Ruby nodded. “The old interrogation technique. Looks like you haven’t put your Special Forces days entirely behind you.”
Tim came from a world even crazier than Ruby. To him, it was perfectly normal to break into a woman’s house in order to get a straight answer about something important. He was not like normal people, not like those tourists who couldn’t deal with seeing a monkey in a restaurant.
He was more like her.
And that made him a good ally and a wild card at the same time.
Tim continued.
“You see, they know she had dealings with the Saudis, but they figured you were their hitman and if they catch you, they can get you to turn state’s evidence against the oil barons. Tell me what happened that night.”
Ruby sighed, poured out a long measure for herself, another for Tim, who looked at it with distaste, and took a few swallows before answering.
She told him everything, feeling the burden of the last year easing off her shoulders. She hadn’t had a chance to do that since she had fled. The Saudis were probably hot on her tail and the State Department and FBI wouldn’t have listened to a word she had said without putting her in a jail cell first.
The only thing she held back was the magnetic card Wishbourne had slipped into her back pocket. That had been just for her. Tim didn’t need to know and she had no idea what it meant anyway.
Plus, as good as she felt to see him again, she still wasn’t a hundred percent on him. Too much time had passed, too many things had occurred that she knew nothing about.
By the time she had finished her story, the words run out and her slumped in her chair, she could feel herself riding the soft wave to drunkenness. She poured herself another glass.
“So why Nassau?” Tim asked.
Ruby shrugged. “I had to go somewhere, and Wishbourne always raved about it to me. ‘A place you can lose yourself.’ That’s what she said.”
“She never mentioned it to me. I have a contact in the State Department who filled me in on her travel records. She never came here.”
“Records can lie,” Ruby said, taking another drink.
“Easy with that. Yeah, they can lie. Yours sure did.”
“How did you find me? Do the feds know I’m here?”
“Guesswork. And no, the feds don’t know you’re here. They suspect you’re somewhere in the Caribbean because they managed to trace you to the Yucatan. After that, your trail went cold.” Ruby nodded. That’s when she switched to her fake passport. She hadn’t dared use it within the United States. “Since the Yucatan is right next to a bunch of accommodating island nations, well, they figure you fled to one of them. They have no idea beyond that. They’re not even sure you’re still in the Western Hemisphere. The embassy in Riyadh has an alert out for you.”
That made Ruby chuckle. She lifted her glass in a toast. “To sun and sand! At least I get to go swimming on a beach here. You ever see those hijab bathing suits? I’m surprised those women don’t drown. So if the feds couldn’t find me, how could you?”
“You mentioned Wishbourne talking about Nassau once or twice. Said you might take a vacation there. I figured maybe that’s where you went.”
“You were right,” Ruby said, taking another sip. She was getting drunk now and she had an appointment with Elaine later. Hell with it. It was all getting to be too much.
A horrible thought came to her. “Oh crap. What if they followed you?”
“They did, the first two times.”
Ruby sat bolt upright, suddenly feeling all too sober. Tim raised a reassuring hand.
&nb
sp; “Not this time. I’ve been to the Bahamas twice before. I steered clear of Nassau. Stayed on Great Abaco and Eleuthera. I swam, did some snorkeling, met up with some lovely ladies, and nothing else. I made damn sure I didn’t talk to any locals or expats. Stayed in the tourist bubble. The feds got bored, decided I really was on vacation, and left me alone. They don’t follow me anymore. They figure I have no idea what happened, and I pretty much don’t. Except this.”
Tim leaned forward, taking the glass from Ruby’s hand and meeting her eye. “I think Wishbourne talking about Nassau all the time was some sort of signal. Why else would she talk about a place she had never been? Or at least hide the fact that she had come here? And why only talk about it with you?”
“I don’t know. Why?” Ruby asked, feeling confused. She wanted that glass back. She needed a vacation, just for one day.
Tim leaned in a little closer.
“I think she wanted you to find something here. Together maybe we can figure out what that is.”
Ruby groaned and poured herself another glass.
This was going to be a long day.
She decided the best way to handle it would be to get through this bottle as quickly as possible and order another.
Ruby took another slug from her glass, which was an almost criminal thing to do because Bahamian Gold was not some cheap bottom shelf liquor you slugged. It was a drink to savor, to enjoy.
But what Ruby really wanted to savor and enjoy right now was forgetfulness.
As they tucked into their breakfast, Tim grew more and more quiet and Ruby got more and more inebriated. She was at that beautiful stage of brightened colors and heightened awareness, and she could see Tim looking at her askance. Was that the right word? Funny word, askance. She chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Tim asked.
“You’re getting all askance on me.”
“Huh?”
“Oh dear, babbling already.” Ruby poured herself another one.
“Why don’t you go easy on that?”
“Give me three good reasons.”
Tim did so. Ruby didn’t hear him. She was looking out at the Caribbean, the serene blue waters, and the brilliant white sails of the boats passing along the shoreline. She took a deep breath of warm salt air and smiled. She had really picked a great place to hide.
Hide. Hiding from her father and her responsibility to her old boss. Ugh. Why did reality always have to barge in and spoil things?
She poured another drink.
“Did you listen to anything I said?” Tim asked.
“Nope.”
When they finished their breakfast, Sanyjah came to clear the table. Ruby eyed the bottle. Still a third full. She’d ask for another later. Zoomer would need some more too. His bowl was dry, so she poured him another. The monkey hiccupped and took a swig. Spilling some on his fur. Tim and Sanyjah started chatting, the bodyguard turning on the charm. Not that he had to do that much. He was a natural charmer, and good-looking too. He and Ruby had a wonderful fling once, years ago.
As Ruby poured herself another, she saw Sanyjah giving Tim her number.
“Careful, Sanyjah, he snores.”
Sanyjah laughed. Tim gave Ruby a stricken look.
“Don’t worry,” Ruby said. “Everything up to that point is great.”
There, that made everything better. Proud that she had salvaged the situation and didn’t embarrass the two of them or herself, she took another drink and enjoyed the view.
Tim left soon after.
“All right,” she replied to whatever he said as he walked away. What was it again? Something concerned, serious.
Hell with serious. She needed a vacation today.
But she didn’t get one, because just as she ordered a second bottle, Detective Pinder showed up.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“Ugh,” was all Ruby managed to say when the detective appeared at her table.
Detective Pinder stood there, her usual glowering self. A female uniformed police officer stood a few feet behind her.
“Is this a bad time?” Detective Pinder asked, eyeing the money lolling on the table, one furry arm hanging over the edge.
“Yes, can you come back tomorrow?”
“No.”
Ruby rounded on her. “What do you want?”
“You in jail. But the first step is to take you down to the station for more questioning.”
“I’ve already answered all your questions.”
“We have new ones.”
“I’m having my breakfast.”
“It’s just past noon.”
Ruby checked her watch. Oh dear.
Ruby tried to sort out the events of the previous few hours. The breakfast drinks had lasted until almost lunch. Tim had left at some point, telling her to take the day off and get some rest.
She certainly did take the day off. Well, mostly. She had managed to get it together enough to call Elaine, saying she was still investigating and would meet her the next day. Then she had started drinking in earnest.
Ruby grimaced at the thought. She had wasted a whole precious morning, poisoned her body, and ended up in an embarrassing scene with a homicide detective.
Idiot. Why is it that when it comes to crunch time you always crack? You bailed on Dad after your injury. You fled the States when Wishbourne got assassinated. And now you’re getting hammered when you should be trying to save yourself from prison.
What the hell is the matter with you?
The detective led her through the restaurant, the police officer coming up behind. Ruby threw a concerned glanced at Sanyjah, who cradled a very drunk Zoomer in her arms.
“Give him some water when he wakes up,” Ruby called out to her. “Or some club soda. He likes that.”
“I’m tempted to arrest you for cruelty to animals,” Detective Pinder sniffed.
What, you never got drunk with a primate before? Sheesh, how boring.
Luckily Ruby managed enough self-control to keep her mouth shut as they came out into the parking lot and got to a police car.
“We need to search you,” the uniformed officer said. “You’re not under arrest but it’s standard procedure for someone riding in a patrol car.”
Ruby wondered if this was true. She didn’t know enough about Bahamian law to say.
Detective Pinder patted her down while the officer watched. She pulled out keys, Ruby’s wallet, and then a bag of weed.
The warmth of the rum washed out of her, replaced with an Arctic chill.
“That’s not mine,” Ruby blurted, knowing that every drug addict ever caught by the police had said the exact same thing. And never, in the history of the war on drugs, had those words ever been believed.
Jesus, she planted it on me. She couldn’t prove anything so she planted drugs on me. Now I’m royally screwed.
“Then what’s it doing in your pocket?” the detective asked, a smug smile on her face.
Ruby’s whole body tensed. She got on the balls of her feet, ready to strike out and flee. The officer’s hand went to the butt of her nightstick.
“It would be best if you come quietly,” the officer said.
Ruby sighed. “Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet,” Detective Pinder said. “We’ll see what Detective Anderson has to say. We’re going to meet him downtown.”
Ruby groaned. “Of course we are.”
Ruby was not cuffed, and was allowed to keep her phone as she was put in the back seat of the police car. She was surprised at Detective Pinder’s lenience. Had Detective Anderson told her to go easy? Why would he do that?
She checked her phone, vaguely remembering that it had buzzed a couple of times while she had been downing her morning drinks. There were two texts from different unknown numbers.
The first one read, “Hey champeon! ‘Bob Marley’ her. Call me and well talk bout yur necst fight.”
She deleted the message and blocked the number.
The next text read, “C
ongratulations on a most impressive win. I am most happy to have you as part of my stable. Friday nights draw the largest crowds, so let’s arrange a fight for a week from Friday. That gives you plenty of time to recover and train. I’ll get a better match for you than the Freeport Fighter. He wasn’t your class, and you have a great deal of class. I’ll be contacting you again soon. The KING.”
Ruby’s heart sank. She almost deleted the text and blocked the number like she had with Bob Marley’s, but stopped at the last moment. She didn’t dare. The King wasn’t somebody she could just brush off.
Soon enough they got to the station and the detective led her to Anderson’s office.
The homicide detective did not get up as they entered, merely smiled a smile that creased his milk chocolate face but did not reach his honey brown eyes. He gestured to a seat.
“Good morning, Ms. Steele. Would you like some coffee?”
“I’d love some, thanks,” Ruby replied, letting out a belch.
“Ayanna, could you get some for us, please?”
“Turn on the fan. She stinks of rum,” Detective Pinder grumbled as she went out.
Ruby waited for the questioning to start, but Detective Anderson merely went back to his paperwork. His only acknowledgment of her presence was when, after a couple of minutes, he switched on the fan. Only then did Ruby realize just how badly her breath stank.
You need to stop facing disaster by being a disaster.
The words came floating back to her from yesterday’s haze. Who had spoken them? Neville? Kristiano? Tim? Maybe she had said them herself.
Detective Pinder returned, handing out coffees.
“You remembered I take it black,” Ruby said.
“Nothing gets past Detective Pinder,” her boss said.
“Like this,” Detective Pinder said, tossing the bag of weed in front of him.
“Hmmm,” he murmured, examining it, then looking up at her. “You don’t seem the type.”
“I’m not. She planted it on me.”
Detective Pinder let out a derisive snort and stood behind her, out of sight. Ruby, already jittery, glanced over her shoulder at her, only to get a glare in return. Ruby took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She forced herself to turn back to Detective Anderson.