by Mark Stone
“What about you?” Mia asked. “Are you all right?”
“I’m good, maybe bruised up a little, but nothing I can’t walk off,” I answered. “I’m only here because Alexis’s father insisted. He probably thinks I’m going to try to sue him or something.”
“He might,” Mia said. “But I’d be surprised if Alexis thought that. At this point, she probably thinks you walk on water.”
“Don’t give me too much credit,” I answered.
“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t,” Mia said, though her voice held no disdain. “Mostly because you don’t listen.”
“I’d ask you what you mean by that, but I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to tell me, seeing as how you don’t believe I’d listen to the answer,” I retorted.
“In the middle of a conversation about how you shouldn’t interject yourself into dangerous situations that don’t have anything to do with you, you interjected yourself into just such a situation,” she answered. “But you did save Jack. So, I can’t be too hard on you about it.”
“Again,” I clarified.
“Was I hard on you last time?” she asked.
“I saved Jack again,” I said. “Which means there are still people after him. What about the guy in the truck, the one who worked for the catering company? Do we know anything about him yet?”
Mia shuffled uncomfortably. “You know I can’t tell you about active police investigations,” she said.
“Oh, come on!” I yelled, throwing my hands in the air. “There wouldn’t be an investigation if it weren’t for me. You’d be looking for a body, and you know it!”
“Fine,” she muttered, walking closer. “He’s a ghost. He’s not answering any questions, he has no identification on him, and the catering company has no record of hiring him in the first place. We’re running his fingerprints through the system, but as of now, there’s no match.” She shook her head. “The truth is, we have no idea who he is or what he wants with Jack. We’re at a standstill.”
“Let me have five minutes in that room alone with him,” I said, my fist tightening up. “You won’t be at a standstill after that. I promise.”
“Maybe,” Mia said. “But it would also make prosecuting him next to impossible.” She blinked at me, looking away as she continued. “I know you hate the thought of it, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to let the actual police deal with this.”
Before I could answer, my door opened up again. It was Parker. He looked tired, like a person whose nephew had almost died twice in as many weeks.
“Mia,” Parker said. “You’re looking well.”
“You saw me twenty minutes ago,” Mia said flatly.
“What can I say? It’s been a long day,” he answered. “Can you give us some privacy? I need to have a word with my client.”
Mia looked back at me before heading toward the door. “He’s all yours.”
I leaned back against the bed as the door closed. “Jack’s still okay?” I asked.
“Fine,” Parker answered.
“And the evidence, the gun and the towel?” I asked.
“I’ve dealt with them,” he said. “What’s more, Sheriff Jensen didn’t find anything back at your house.”
“That’s good,” I said.
“It is,” he answered, “But there’s more. Things are more complicated than they were a few minutes ago.”
“You got that right,” I answered. “Another kidnapping attempt means—”
“That this is bigger than we thought it was. I know,” Parker said. “But there’s something else.” He swallowed hard. “I need you to keep your distance from Mia.”
“What?” I asked, pulling myself back upright. “Why?”
“Apparently, Mia has been moved to desk duty,” Parker said.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “The sheriff wants her to see a therapist before going back on the beat, or in the field, or whatever it is that cops call it. He thinks she’s been through too much.”
“Yeah. That’s what my contact said they told her,” Parker said. “But that’s not the real reason.”
“I’m listening,” I answered, my interest picking up instantly.
“They just got through surveying the wreckage of George Jensen’s house,” Parker said. The found a black lockbox that survived. Inside it were love letters written to George.”
“Okay,” I answered, narrowing my eyes. “I’m confused. What does that have to do with Mia?”
“She’s the one who wrote them,” Parker said. My chest tightened. “She was having a secret affair with George, and the reason she can’t go back to work doesn’t have anything to do with her mental state. They think she’s part of this. They think Mia might have killed George Jensen, which would also mean she might be responsible for Jack’s repeated kidnapping attempts too.”
“Oh,” I said, my eyes wide and my mind blown. “Oh, no.”
Chapter 21
“This can’t be right,” I said, shaking my head back and forth as I paced circles into the living room of my brand-new house. It had been twenty minutes since I got home from the hospital with a clean bill of health and forty minutes since Parker told me the bombshell about Mia. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
“Calm down,” Davey said. He was sitting on the couch we’d carried in, the same couch we couldn’t decide on a placement for. That seemed really trivial now compared to what was going on. It seemed downright stupid. “Whatever’s going on here, it’s a good thing.”
“A good thing?” I balked, looking over at my friend. “How the hell would you figure that?”
“Simple,” Davey said, sitting up straighter. “If they’re looking at Mia as a suspect, it means that maybe they’re not looking at us so hard.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Parker said, sitting next to Davey as he typed away on his phone. “They didn’t find anything at your house, sure, but they wouldn’t have come in the first place if at least one of you wasn’t a person of interest.” He shook his head. “And the sheriff definitely wouldn’t have come. I’m not sure you understand how rare that is.”
“Lucky me,” I muttered, leaning against the wall.
“That’s kind of a running theme with you, isn’t it?” Parker asked, standing up to meet me. “You’re lucky in one way or another.”
“I don’t feel lucky, dude,” I said. “Lottery winnings notwithstanding, I’ve kind of been through a lot since I got here.”
“Trust me,” Parker said. “It could be worse. If they had found anything in this house, you’d be in handcuffs by now, especially with the sheriff bringing his lapdog with him.”
“Lapdog?” I asked. “You’re talking about the officer who came in with him?”
“Charlie Westerbrook,” Parker scoffed. “He’s a prick if I’ve ever seen one, always has been. He was George’s best friend growing up, and let’s just say they shared some undesirable tendencies.”
“I don’t know your sister very well, my man,” Davey said, also standing to meet us. “But she seems like a sweetheart. How she could ever let herself get involved with someone like George Jenkins is beyond me.” Davey shook his head. “Of course, I could say the same thing about Mia. She’s a knockout herself. Douchebags are really cleaning up in Bonita Springs, aren’t they?”
“To be fair to Alexis, it’s not like George was always like this. In fact, Charlie was always more like the sheriff’s son than George. They had the same sour disposition and all that. It worked out well for Charlie, especially since his actual father split when he was a baby. He kind of just grew up under the shadow of the sheriff and modeled himself after him, all the way down to the police academy.” Parker sighed. “George tried to fight it for as long as he could, I guess. But in the end, he must have just wanted his father’s attention. He must have figured being a real sonofabitch was the only way to get it. It’s a shame, because by the time he made that decision, Alexis was already pregnant.” Parker blinked hard. “She always blamed herself for
that. She always says they brought out the worst in each other, but that’s not true. What George turned into had nothing to do with my sister, and he turned her into a mother, which brought the best out in her, not the worst.”
“This place is like a coastal soap opera,” Davey lamented, looking over at me. “It’d be cool if it weren’t so—”
“Dangerous?” I asked, finishing his sentence. “I agree. I’ve never been a big soap opera guy. So, I couldn’t tell you whether it’s cool or not. What I can tell you is that I have no interest in being the expendable piece of somebody’s massive coverup. Someone killed George, someone continues to attempt to kidnap Jack, and they’re trying to frame me for it.”
“Us,” Davey corrected me. “It’s us they’re trying to frame, but go on. I’m following you.”
“We need to figure out who is doing this,” I said.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Parker said, throwing his hands out in front of him. “I don’t like this talk. You can’t start taking matters into your own hands.”
“I think we’re a little bit past that,” I said, scoffing. “Seeing as how I’ve saved your nephew twice and tampered with evidence.”
“Which is exactly why you need to keep a low profile,” Parker said. “Keep your head down and let the chips fall where they’re going to fall. You’re right. Someone is trying to frame you, and the closer you get to this investigation and the crimes it pertains to, the easier that’ll be.”
“Our lives are on the line here,” I said, motioning to Davey. “Your nephew’s is too. What would you suggest we do?”
“My nephew is going to have around the clock security until all of this blows over, and even if he didn’t, saving him isn’t your job, even though it seems like you’re trying to make a career of it.”
“Just doing what I have to,” I said.
“Which is awesome,” Parker said. “So, hopefully, you’ll understand when I tell you that I’m doing what I have to when I tell you to sit the hell down.” he took a step toward me, his hand outstretched. “Look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I know it’s not good. I know that one wrong step will send you and Davey away for the rest of your lives. So, don’t take any steps. You’re rich. Do what rich people do. Go boating and shopping. Go play golf.”
“Golf is boring,” Davey muttered.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” Parker shot back. “The point is, you need to take care of yourselves right now. I would tell you to leave town if doing so wouldn’t make you look a hundred times guiltier. So, stay here, but please, stay put. Can you do that?”
I looked at my attorney for a second, thinking about everything that was going on. “I can,” I said after a long beat of silence. “If that’s what you really think I need to do, I can.”
“Finally,” Parker sighed in relief. “Someone is making a little bit of sense. Okay, I’m gonna go and work on things. I’ll give you a heads up on everything when I can. Until then, maybe watch some Netflix or something. I hear Stranger Things is a big deal.”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ll try it out.”
Parker nodded at me and headed out the door. When he left, I dug into my pocket.
“All that stuff you just agreed to do,” Davey said, settling beside me. “You’re not going to do any of it, are you?”
“I mean, I might watch Stranger Things,” I answered. “Just depends on word of mouth, really.” Pulling out my phone, I started pressing a few numbers. “But if he thinks I’m going to sit here and let the both of us get railroaded without even lifting a finger to stop it, he doesn’t know soldiers very well.”
“That’s my guy,” Davey said, giving me a slap on the back. “Where do we start?”
“You start by cleaning this place up,” I said. “Sheriff Jensen and his little doppelganger made a mess of things.”
“And what are you gonna do while I’m playing the happy homemaker?” Davey asked, obviously surprised by my request.
“I’m going to follow the lead,” I answered, bringing the phone to my ear. “Someone is trying to take us down for a murder they committed. I’m going to find out who is involved, and I’m going to start where anyone with a working brainstem would.”
“I mean, I definitely have one of those, but for argument’s sake, let’s say I didn’t know who you were talking about,” Davey said.
“I’m talking about the person whose big secret we just uncovered,” I said. A voice came onto the other end of the line and my tone changed as I spoke to her. “Hey, Mia. It’s Lucky. I’m thinking maybe we should go out tonight.”
Chapter 22
I pulled up to the pier, sliding into the parking space in front of the address Mia gave me. I hadn’t thought of Mia as the kind of woman who would call a houseboat home. Although, maybe that was a little bit of my own bias because as I opened the door and looked out at the large blue and white leisure boat where I was supposed to meet Mia, I realized I actually had no idea what kind of woman might live on a houseboat. In fact, other than a few nights I spent with my uncle and his then girlfriend down in Savannah, I had never actually set foot on a houseboat. That would change tonight.
Closing the door, I thought about the reason I was actually here tonight. Though I had sold Mia on a carefree night of getting to know each other under the guise of saying thanks for all of her help the other night, I was actually here on business.
Mia had been lying. She had, at least for a little while, been romantically involved with the father of her best friend’s son. Whether that meant she had anything to do with his death, Jack’s continued situation, or the attempt to frame me for both of them was yet to be seen. Spending some time with her, getting inside her house, and drilling her for information without her knowing exactly what I was doing were the only ways I knew how to do that, even if my lawyer said that it was a stupid and dangerous move.
Walking up to the boat, I saw the name of the vessel stretched across the back. Second Chances, it read in swooping cursive blue writing. The name struck me as odd. Though I didn’t know Mia very well, an obvious observation given the fact that I now knew her to be a liar, she didn’t look like the kind of woman who would name a boat something as loaded as that.
Wondering whether I should yell ‘coming aboard’ as I neared the ship, I saw the door open and Mia walk out onto the deck. She wore a long red dress, her hair was pulled back off her neck, and ruby red lipstick colored her pout. Even if she hadn’t been a knockout, she would be something to look at all dolled up like that.
“Wow,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, smiling as she motioned for me to come up onto the boat. In truth, she was being polite. While I had been called handsome by more than a few women in my day, I was criminally underdressed compared to Mia. In fact, as I neared her and noticed she wore high heels and a gold chain around her neck, I decided she was the most formally dressed person I had seen since I got here. Down here, even the rich folk like Alexis and her family all seemed content to wear cutoffs and flip flops and call it their Sunday best. It was so prevalent, in fact, that I was beginning to think there wasn’t a dress shop in all of Florida. One look at Mia proved me wrong.
‘I’ve got to be honest with you,” she said as I walked across the hull of the ship toward her. “I was more than a little surprised when you called about meeting up.”
“Really?” I said, a smirk moving across my face. “Why’s that?”
“I honestly didn’t think we got off on the right foot back at the beach,” Mia said.
“When you called me Batman?” I asked, chuckling a little and crossing my arms over my chest. “I decided to consider it a compliment.”
“Would you like me to tell you it was a compliment?” she asked, her eyebrows arching up a little.
“Nah. Keep your integrity,” I answered.
“That’s probably for the best,” Mia responded. “I’m not much of a liar,
anyway.”
“Is that right?” I asked, biting my lower lip to stop myself from contradicting her.
“You said so yourself, right?” she asked. “You said you hoped I didn’t have any undercover cases in my future.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?” I muttered. It was strange how quickly and totally one piece of information had changed my perception of the woman. She was a wild card now. I had no idea how to take her or what to make of her. Her motives might as well have been hidden behind fog. “Where would you like to go? I’m starving.”
“Me too,” Mia said, “which is why I threw some snapper on the grill a few minutes before you got here.”
“You’re cooking?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.
“Is that okay?” Mia responded. “I know we hadn’t talked about it, but I figured you wouldn’t mind a home-cooked meal after being on your own for so long. No offense to Davey, but he doesn’t exactly look like a dynamo in the kitchen.”
A sharp, unintended chuckle escaped my lips. “That’s true. He’s not, and of course, it’s fine. I just hate that you went through all this trouble for me.”
In truth, I didn’t hate it at all. Being with Mia was one thing. In a restaurant, I could drill some questions into her without her actually knowing what was going on. In her house, though, I could kick this investigation into high gear. I could do a little snooping. I could try to find a smoking gun, so to speak. With any luck, that smoking gun wouldn’t be stuffed in a trunk and dropped off in my living room this time.
Of course, it did beg the question as to what exactly Mia thought was going on here. Her wanting to keep me in her house led me to believe she was excited about the way this night might go. I didn’t necessarily blame her. In all honesty, if I didn’t have reason to believe she might be trying to frame me for murder, I’d be excited about a night alone on a houseboat with her too.
We were where we were, though, and that meant I needed to keep my head in the game, even if her dress was just low-cut enough to make keeping eye contact really hard.