I was in the kitchen with my head in the freezer, debating between the merits of chocolate chip ice cream versus chocolate peanut butter, when I heard the motorcycle returning.
“Oh, what now?” I asked shutting the freezer door and standing back up to greet Agent Cooper. However, when I peered out the door again the motorcycle completely bypassed the houseboat and parked on the side lot next to Murphy’s Bait and Tackle. The man parked the bike and stood up. In that moment, I spotted the man’s helmet. Green flames. My heart rate picked up. Today was my lucky day. I waited a minute to see what he was going to do. The man seemed confident as he walked around the side of the building and headed up the wooden staircase to Finn’s old apartment.
Naturally, I stepped onto the deck of the houseboat and watched the man, with his ripped cutoff jeans and a white T-shirt, trudge up the stairs and bang on the apartment door. Even from the water, I could hear him say, “Finn, bro, you here?”
So the man with the green flame helmet knew Finn. Was he a friend or foe? I was prone to thinking he may be a friend given that he walked right up to Finn’s apartment in broad daylight. I wondered if he had seen Finn the night of the murder or what else this guy might know.
Guess it was time to find out.
I quickly jogged down the dock and over to the bait shop.
The guy was still standing at the top of the stairs. He was shifting his feet from side to side as if he was unable to stand still. I knew the feeling.
“Hey, can I help you?” I hollered up the stairs to get his attention.
The guy turned around. For the first time I could see what the Quick & Go store clerk had meant. The man was visibly startled and he didn’t calm down after he realized that I wasn’t a threat.
“I don’t need any trouble. I’m just looking for my boy.” The guy nervously licked his lips and looked over his shoulder repeatedly even though there was only a railing and a ten-foot drop behind him. I backed up a bit to reiterate that I didn’t mean any harm.
“I don’t think Finn’s home, but I can let him know you stopped by when he gets back.” The man nodded nervously. “What’s your name,” I asked.
Instead of answering me, the guy said, “I heard about Cody.”
That completely took me off guard, but if he had heard about it, it most likely meant he wasn’t the killer. That is, unless he just wanted to see what I knew.
I played along. “Yeah, it was pretty shocking. You a friend of his?” I asked.
The man nodded again but didn’t offer any more information.
“What was his last name? Do you by chance know?”
Apparently, that was the wrong question to ask. The man looked directly at me for the first time. For a second, the paranoia lifted and his eyes turned clear.
“I have to go. I shouldn’t have come here. Excuse me.”
With that, he raced down the stairs toward me. I stepped aside in the nick of time as his shoulder brushed mine and he continued onto to his bike, leaving just as quickly as he had come.
“What in the world was that about?” I said to no one in particular. The day just seemed to be getting weirder and weirder.
9
I knew the day would be long when Mrs. J. showed up at my house before 8AM. A normal person would call before stopping over. Mrs. J. was not normal.
Bang, bang, bang. Mrs. J.’s knocks vibrated off the sliding glass door.
“Ziva, you in there? Wake up!” Bang, bang, bang. “It’s an emergency!”
The word “emergency” had me springing out of bed faster than I would’ve thought possible given how poorly I slept the night before. My subconscious was hard at work putting the pieces of the puzzle together and the most random thoughts kept waking me up.
“What, what’s wrong?” I asked Mrs. J. while wiping the sleep out of my eyes.
“It’s awful! You won’t believe it!”
“What? What happened?” I searched Mrs. J.’s face for a clue.
“The float! Someone’s ruined it!” Mrs. J. shouted.
“Seriously?” The adrenaline I felt building in my system evaporated as quickly as it had come. “Mrs. J., what time is it?”
“What difference does it make? You need to take the case.”
“Excuse me?” Tell me this is a dream. Please, someone wake me up.
“Mrs. J., I highly doubt this warrants an investigation. Besides, I’m a little busy with the other case at the moment.”
Mrs. Jackson looked bewildered. “What other case?” she asked.
I stared at her for a second, wondering if being mayor was too much for the woman to handle. It was a far jump from gossip queen to mayor supreme. Maybe it was too far?
Mrs. J. still looked at me, waiting for an answer.
“Finn. The whole murder thing, remember?” I said, a little concerned for her lapse of memory.
Mrs. J. waved me away. “He’s guilty, remember? All you gotta do is find him. Now this, this is a true case. A true atrocity. Anyone could’ve broken into the fire station and vandalized our float. You need to find out who and I’ll make sure they’re prosecuted to the full extent of the law.” Mrs. J. puffed out her chest with pride.
I think I liked it better when I thought her memory was going.
Mrs. J. needed to get her priorities straight. Truth be told, I didn’t give a flying fruitcake about the float. I needed to take down The Sugar King and put a stop to this madness before someone else was killed, like Finn. Of course I didn’t dare try to explain any of that to Mrs. J. She’d be tailing me again in no time if she knew half of the truth.
Mrs. J. stared at me expectantly.
I ended up saying the only thing I could. “When’s the last time anyone saw the float intact?”
Turns out, taking on this case wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Mrs. J. had a list of suspects and motivations a mile long.
“And Inez,” she was saying.
“Why Inez?” I asked.
“You saw her at the library, back talking the way she was!” I didn’t consider speaking her mind as back talking. “Plus, she wanted to get her hands on my cake recipe!”
“Your famous chocolate cake, I presume?”
“Is there any other?” Mrs. J. gave me a level stare. “Thought she could just call me up and ask me for it! Like I’d just read it to her right over the phone then and there. Ha! The gall of some people. I would never.”
“Isn’t that the polite thing to do? To just ask someone for it?” I asked carefully.
“You think I’m just going to give that recipe up because someone asks for it?” Mrs. J. was wide-eyed in disbelief and I had to keep myself from laughing at her perceived offense.
“She knew we were building it at the fire station too. Probably broke in when the chief tucked in for the night. That’s how those vandals do it. They watch you and wait. Sneaky crooks.”
I highly doubted that’s what happened. I thought about saying that aloud but didn’t want Mrs. J.’s eyes to completely bug out of her head, or worse, for her to question my judgement.
“Okay, so I’ll check in with Inez,” I said to placate Mrs. J. even though I didn’t believe for a hot second she was involved in any way. “And I’ll stop by the station, see what I can dig up, deal?”
“For starters,” Mrs. J. said.
Oh brother.
The only downfall to visiting Inez is that her condo is directly across the street from my parent’s. Forgetting to call your mom as promised was one thing, ignoring them while visiting their neighbor was another.
Mrs. J. liked to say that Inez was born with the gift of gab, which was ironic as Mrs. J. was the biggest blabbermouth in Port Haven, but with that said, Inez could talk. The plants, the weather, what she was making for lunch—it was all provided in minute detail, and your eyes could glaze over before she noticed you’d tuned out. But she was also kind, willing to provide a helping hand whenever you asked (she had watched Captain Jack on numerous occasions), and she knew everyone in
the area. So, while she might not be involved in the whole Azalea Float Scheme, maybe she had heard something through the grapevine.
Turned out talking to Inez was going to have to wait a minute. As I pulled up, I saw my dad putting the finishing touches on his wax job. The Buick was sparkling in the South Carolina sun. I gave an inward sigh. While I loved my dad, and knew he was fond of Finn, I also knew this recent scandal wasn’t going to sit right with him and it would be a long time until my pops trusted my hubby once again. What could I say? I was his baby girl. He took his job protecting me seriously.
“Game’s not on?” I said by way of greeting. That opening could apply to any baseball game being broadcast. I knew spring training was in full steam, and it was surprising that he was outside when there had to be a game on.
“Your mom’s ironing the hand towels.”
We both shuddered at that.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s that husband of yours.”
Ouch. I tried not to wince. “It’s not his fault either, Dad.”
“Are you sure about that?” My dad stopped rubbing out the wax to really look at me. I couldn’t meet his eyes. That was all the answer he needed.
“Listen—” I started to say.
“Ziva, I just don’t know. Since that guy’s come into your life, you’ve had one catastrophe after the next.”
“He could make the same argument!” I said, stronger than I meant to, but it was true. Technically, I found my first dead body before I met him, but that was the only one. Maybe we did have some residual morbid karma Izzy’s smudge stick hadn’t removed. She had given us a bunch of Palo Santo to burn, to lighten our energy, but murder kept finding us. That’s all Izzy said she could do seeing she didn’t deal with death. I shook my head, letting those thoughts fall away.
“I just don’t like it,” my dad said, working on his car once more. “I think your mom’s right. You need to stay here for a while.” Like my mom, the way my dad said it wasn’t a suggestion.
I tried to keep my temper in check, but it was difficult. The rebel inside of me wanted to erupt. I was a grown woman who could hold her own. I wasn’t about to be chased out of my home by the ghosts of my husband’s past. I said just as much.
“You’re a fool.” My dad’s words cut deep and this time I did flinch. At that moment my mom came to door, but one look at our faces told her all she needed to know. She was smart enough to stay silent.
I turned and walked quietly to my car. Visiting Inez would have to wait until another day.
I managed to wait until my pickup turned right out of their subdivision before I let the flood gates open.
10
I thought Mrs. J. was calling my phone again to ask for a status update on the float. If it was her, I was going to ignore it. Again.
Then I thought maybe it was Randy giving me a call. I still hadn’t heard a word on Kat. I was crossing everything that she had magically popped back in to work.
It wasn’t either one of them.
It was Vince returning my call.
“Hey, thanks so much for getting back to me. Do you know Devonshire?” I asked, getting right to the point.
“Yes, I do.” There was silence and I had a feeling Vince was having an internal debate. Finally he said, “I’ll tell you what I know because I know if I don’t, you’ll keep digging until you figure it out, and figuring it out would somehow involve Aria.”
“Fair enough,” I said. It was completely true.
“The Sugar King, Chocolate King, Vodka King—it’s all the same guy. The man is worth a fortune.”
“I knew he was The Sugar King but not the others. What’s he doing here? I know he just got married.”
“I don’t know if I’m more impressed or worried that you know all this. How do you do it?” Vince asked.
“It’s a gift,” I joked.
“Rumor has it his health isn’t so great. He needed to slow down before he ended up dead. My turn. Why are you asking about him?” Vince asked.
“He’s after Finn. He and his buddies conned him in their youth,” I said as a matter of fact.
“You’re telling me Finn stole from Paul Devonshire? You know his nickname is Devil-shire, right?”
“No, and I don’t think I even want to know.”
Vincent disregarded my comment. “The man’s got a temper. I heard he’s a fan of torture and he’s not one to offer mercy. You’d be insane to cross him.”
“What about youthful ignorance?” I offered up.
“You can’t be that ignorant if you marked him as a target,” Vince said flatly.
“That’s true,’” I sighed. “Well at least that explains this sick game he’s set up.”
“Game?” Vince asked.
I debated telling him the entire backstory, but I knew Aria would fill him in after she heard. So I went ahead and told him all about the cat and mouse charade Devonshire had orchestrated.
Vince whistled.
“Yeah, I know,” I said.
“I’m really not surprised. The only time I ever crossed him, if you can even call it that, was when I denied a shipment of his.” Vince owned a shipping brokerage firm that operated out of the Port of Savanah, one of the busiest and largest seaports in the United States.
“What happened?” I asked.
“It was Christmas. The docks were closed. Totally out of my hands but that didn’t stop him from mailing me a dead partridge hanging from a pear tree a few days later.”
“That’s sick.”
“Yeah, I can’t imagine what he’d do to someone who actually stole from him.”
“Gee, thanks Vince,” I said.
“Sorry, just being honest. Let me think on this and see what connections we have. I might be able to help.”
“Thanks. I would seriously appreciate it. Tell Aria I’ll see her soon.”
“Will do.”
I hung up with Vince and sat back and thought for a moment. I hadn’t solved the case of the sabotaged float. I hadn’t figured out why Alexia killed Cody. And I had no idea how to take down Devonshire.
If I sat around and thought about it anymore, I’d be fully depressed.
Thankfully, I didn’t have time to dwell. It was almost time to meet Izzy and Aria for drinks. That was something to look forward to.
Just because this wasn’t the dancing type of girls’ night didn’t mean I wasn’t going to put any effort into my appearance. In record time, I managed to put on a red floral print romper, a pair of brown leather sandals, and rose-gold hoop earrings to compliment the rose-gold ring on my finger. I didn’t have the energy to do much with my hair, but thankfully my long dark locks always looked great in a high ponytail.
Izzy and Aria had gone for low-key glam as well. Wait, who was I kidding, that was just their natural style.
“Okay, spill it. I heard you talking to Vince this afternoon. It sounds like Finn is in some serious trouble,” Aria said.
“Really? What was your first clue? The fact that he’s alluding the FBI or a potential slew of murderers?” I shot back.
Izzy’s eyes widened.
“Sorry. I’m just extremely frustrated. I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” I said.
“What’s going on exactly?” Izzy asked.
I hadn’t intentionally kept Izzy out of the loop. It was just that she had been busy saving my tail and running the shop the last couple of days. For that, I was grateful.
“Okay, let me get you both up to speed. When Finn was younger—we’re talking like 18 years old here—he and a group of friends stole a handful of paintings from this super-rich guy. The rich guy is known as The Sugar King. Turns out, The Sugar King is also Paul Devonshire, who’s recently relocated to the area.”
“Why’s that?” Izzy asked.
“New wife. Turns out he’s married to Mrs. Atlantic,” I said.
“She runs a local pageant circuit,” Aria filled in for Izzy.
“I don’
t know how it happened, but Devonshire knows that Finn and his friends are the ones who stole from him almost two decades ago and now he wants revenge.”
“How do you know?” Aria asked.
“She talked to Finn,” Izzy said.
“She’s right, I did. He was waiting for me in his truck after my meeting Monday afternoon. He told me Devonshire was after them and put a price on his head.”
“Are you kidding me? That is some craziness right there.”
“I know. I have no idea how many people could technically be looking for him. And honestly, any one of them could’ve killed Cody. I mean, Finn thinks it was this woman who was part of the original group. A Russian mobster’s daughter named Alexia.”
“Did he say why?” Izzy asked me.
“No, he didn’t. But, Detective Brandle told me that Alexia and Finn were once married.”
“Shut up.” Izzy and Aria said in unison.
“What did Finn say?” Aria asked.
“I haven’t had a chance to ask him. I only saw him that one time and I found this out after that.”
“How do you feel about that?” Aria asked.
I looked to Izzy to see if she was going to answer for me. Her psychic intuitiveness made it easy to pick up on my feelings.
“Not going to lie, feeling a bit conflicted. I know it was a long time ago, but I thought I was Finn’s first and only wife. To know there had been another? Well, that sucks.”
“All I’m picking up on is a bunch of confusion,” Izzy confessed.
“Yeah, that sounds about right. Detective Brandle also said that neither Alexia nor the paintings have been seen since they disappeared from Devonshire’s collection.”
“Until she came to pay a visit the other night,” Aria filled in.
“Exactly. I was thinking about that on the drive over. The past twenty-four hours I was trying to come up with a plan to take her down. Get her implicated in the murder of Cody, but I think Finn is wrong.”
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