“Apparently, this female left by the patio door.”

  “…So she wouldn’t be seen using the front one,” I said.

  “Ah, the detective is back in business.”

  “Well, did you get a good look?”

  “I think she was wearing a top, slacks, maybe sandals.”

  “Color hair?”

  “With only the streetlights, it was too dark, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I saw her bend down to the ground, then walk away.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “Same thing I was thinking. Whatever for?”

  “Did you look the next day?”

  “There was a little thing called crime scene tape.”

  “Yeah, they are sort of sticklers about crossing it.”

  “I knew you’d understand. …Your book covers.”

  I smiled. “You’ve read my books?”

  “Martha brags. That’s why I’m confiding in you.”

  “What do my books have to do with this?”

  “I’ll be in this one, won’t I? I can’t wait to read it.”

  “Read what?”

  “The surprise ending you always come up with.”

  Chapter 53

  Just Talking

  Okay, so maybe a reader or two may have figured out via gossip that there might be some element of truth in my mysteries. But like I’ve said before, ever since my life read like fiction anyway, why not just put it down on paper?

  So far, that’s worked for me. What’s not worked for me is getting stuck with no ending in sight. I wanted out before something bad happened, not that Marco’s death wasn’t bad enough; I meant bad to me, like as in shot?

  I like to stick to the facts. And the facts on this one were confusing. There was an awful lot of unexplained behavior connecting suspicious incidents. So where was that one thing that usually clicked for me and tied all of it together?

  I slammed my laptop shut in frustration and went for some iced tea. At that same moment, everyone had returned from a shopping spree I had opted out of. I needed to collect my thoughts to try and figure out where Uncle Carlos was. I was at a dead end and frustrated.

  But now, as usual, I could use their input.

  “You will never guess who we saw bike-riding through the gate as we drove in,” said Martha.

  “Who?”

  “Those two thugs and their pooch that you described!”

  Two? My heart stilled. I fell to the couch, breathless.

  Betty came and sat next to me. “Sam, are you all right?”

  What was going on? I turned to her. “Huh?”

  Hazel sat on the other side of me. “Mona, get water.”

  “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” said Martha.

  Mona rushed over with the water. “What’s going on?”

  “That’s what we’re hoping she’ll tell us,” said Betty.

  I slowly looked at all four. “But he’s dead.”

  Hazel patted my hand gently. “Who is, dear?”

  “Take a deep breath,” said Betty.

  “Thug two,” I barely got out, realizing the implications.

  “I’ll get the wine,” said Martha.

  “I’ll get the glasses,” said Mona.

  “This may take some time,” said Betty shaking her head.

  A half an hour and one glass later, I had finished telling them about my lunch with Nikko. “He lied.”

  Mona was pacing back and forth. “He said he was FBI?”

  “I saw his ID. Plus, he knew so much.”

  “I didn’t recognize him at that club, Down Under. There are so many old and new agents…”

  “Could he be leaking info to the mob?” Betty asked.

  They all turned back to me. “What?” I asked.

  Mona came real close. “Did you give anything away?”

  I was sick to my stomach. “…Like what?”

  “Like where that antique car collection is located.”

  “He said he followed us there and …I confirmed it.”

  “Who said 441 Storage first?” she asked nervously.

  “…I did.”

  “He put two and two together and got four,” said Hazel.

  Chapter 54

  Twenty-Four Hours

  Mona didn’t want to jump the gun just yet. If she couldn’t find Carlos in the next few hours, then she would notify her FBI contacts and tell them about Nikko and let them figure it out. Meanwhile, security cameras were in place at the facility, plus there were two guards on duty.

  But after coming up with blanks, plus dead-end phone calls by Mona to her anonymous contacts, we unanimously called it quits. Evening was closing in. It was time.

  “I don’t think I should let this go any further, ladies.”

  I felt bad. She wanted out of this. “Sorry, we all tried.”

  “Like looking for a needle in a haystack,” said Martha.

  “Would’ve stumped even Sherlock Holmes,” said Betty.

  “…And CSI,” added Hazel.

  Martha threw her a puzzled look. “CSI?”

  “Lack of substantial forensic evidence on this one.”

  “Hacking skills weren’t enough either,” added Martha.

  Mona stood. “Let me get my cell. Those goons might steal that collection tonight.”

  “And Nikko’s the wild card,” I said.

  Mona was halfway to her purse when the doorbell rang. No one said a word, as she motioned with a finger to her lips for silence. She tiptoed to the door and peeked through the blinds, then relaxed. “It’s Irving from upstairs.”

  “At this hour?” Martha asked, primping.

  I looked at my watch. “It’s almost dark. If he really knew who was following him he’d freak out. Let him in.”

  “I’ll call as soon as we get rid of him,” said Mona.

  When he was seated, Mona gave him some wine. He sipped and relaxed. “If those widows could see me now!”

  Martha raised her glass to him and tried to smile.

  Irving looked around at us. “What’s wrong?”

  Mona sighed. “Oh hell. What’s one more? Sam?”

  After getting her nod of approval, I told him the whole story, from when I first arrived right up to the night before and how we were still missing that elusive Uncle Carlos.

  “The odds were against us from the beginning,” I said.

  “We’ve used every resource available,” said Betty.

  Martha laughed. “And even ones that weren’t.”

  Hazel coughed. “You didn’t hear that from me, Irving.”

  “I thought you were just visiting. That’s some story.”

  I moaned. “And one with no happy ending in sight.”

  “Not necessarily. You can still celebrate,” he said.

  Mona looked at him in disbelief. “Why?”

  Irving smiled. “You haven’t looked on the bright side.”

  “Are you one of those the-glass-is-half-full types?”

  “Irv, we’re commiserating. Don’t ruin it,” said Martha.

  “But you found the cars. At least celebrate that,” he said.

  “Irv, you don’t celebrate a lost case!” Martha snapped.

  “Who said celebrate a loss? I’m him. I’m Uncle Carlos.”

  Chapter 55

  Silence Is Not Golden

  No one said a word. We were too busy gawking.

  Then Martha pulled herself together.

  “Why didn’t you say something before?”

  “I didn’t know what all of you were up to.”

  “How about when Marco died, weren’t you outraged?”

  “With FBI and thugs around, I kept a low profile.”

  “Why?” Hazel asked. “Don’t you have a green card?”

  Martha turned to her. “That was a good one, Hazel.”

  He whipped out his wallet. “I’m a U.S. citizen,” he said.

  His Florida license and voting card said Carlos Santiago.

  “That’s the same last name as Marco,” said Mona.

  “Well, I’ll be,” said Martha, now smiling once again.

  Mona was dumbfounded. “You were right upstairs.”

  “Marco discovered his silent investor in his art gallery was his ex, so he bought my condo, moved me here, and gave me a new name for safety. Me being a widower was a cover story. Marco said he hid his legit cash from her, but then was shot before he could tell me where it was hidden.”

  “Clever. Cars,” I said. “So, who is the infamous ex?”

  “I don’t know. He never told me or described her.”

  “The FBI can’t find her,” said Mona. “She vanished.”

  “Probably still looking for those cars,” added Martha.

  “I should show you what Marco left you,” said Mona.

  Irving shook his head. “Cars! I still can’t believe this.”

  “Why didn’t Marco tell you sooner?” I asked.

  “To keep me safe, I guess, in case pressure was put on me. You can’t spill what you don’t know, can you?”

  I nodded. “Sounds reasonable.”

  “I have a drawn document for you to sign,” said Mona, “to legally hand over all the cars once you’ve seen them.” She looked at the rest of us and smirked. “I certainly have enough reputable witnesses present, don’t I?”

  Martha laughed. “Ha! Another oxymoron!”

  Mona was elated. “I can’t wait to get rid of those cars.”

  “Then what will you do for excitement?” Hazel asked.

  Mona chuckled. “I’ll blend into obscurity for a change.”

  I watched her leave us to go get that document.

  “Blend in?” laughed Betty. “Not that one.”

  “Not with her size,” cracked Martha.

  “I heard that,” said a voice from the master bedroom.

  “If I didn’t know better, I swear this room was bugged,” said Martha. “She’s got ears like an elephant.”

  “I heard that, too,” Mona said, as we broke up laughing.

  Then we decided to go to 441 Storage. Once Carlos saw the cars, signed the document, taking full responsibility for the cars, Mona would notify her contacts at the FBI.

  No side streets or detours. We were there in no time at all. I think Mona was anxious to get them out of her hair. We all were. The risks on this one were closing in too fast.

  We got through security and stood at the door.

  “Let’s hope they are still in there,” said Martha.

  Chapter 56

  A Sight To See & Then Some

  “Will you get a load of those babies!” exclaimed Carlos.

  “You can drop the New York accent,” said Martha.

  He looked at her, puzzled. “Why should I?”

  “We now know who you are, that’s why.”

  “But I’m from New York. I drove a cab for a living.”

  She eyed the collection. “Then you just hit the jackpot.”

  “I’m retired now, for sure,” he said, hugging her.

  We walked Carlos around, showing him the collection while Mona rattled off the approximate value of each. By the time we came to the last car and a total, he was stunned.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said.

  We encircled Carlos, taking turns congratulating him.

  That’s when it happened.

  “Take a step back everyone, real slow,” said a voice.

  We all turned. Sidney stood there, aiming his gun at us.

  “Sidney? …When did you get out?” Mona stammered.

  “Mona? Sam? It was an arrhythmia, not a heart attack. After additional tests, they finally discharged me.”

  “Now that salutations are over,” said Martha, “what the Sam Hill is going on here? Would someone explain?”

  To everyone’s relief, Sidney then lowered his gun and leaned against the nearest car to wipe his forehead in relief. We walked over to him, waiting for an explanation.

  “I was locking up when I saw this door ajar and the light on in here, thinking it’s a theft, or worse yet, another sex orgy.” He looked around, suddenly realizing what he was leaning on and whistled. “Where did all these come from?”

  “Long story,” said Mona.

  Sidney smiled. “I’m retired. I’ve got plenty of time.”

  She told him a shortened version, but he got the gist of it. He shook hands with Irving/Carlos and gave him a hug.

  “That’s some story,” he said.

  “Sidney, are you okay?” said a breathless Sylvie, fixing her hair and dress as she hurried through the door. She stopped dead at the sight of us standing there. “…Oh!”

  “Why, Sidney, you rascal, you!” said Martha, laughing.

  Embarrassed, Sylvie’s hands froze. “Well, I…”

  Sidney waved her over. “Sylvie’s my bride-to-be.”

  Now it was their turn to be congratulated. It was the second surprise of the evening, another secret in the open.

  “Will someone explain what’s going on?” Sylvie asked.

  Mona briefed Sylvie, ending with finding Irving/Carlos.

  A familiar scent settled in and stopped me cold. …Her?

  “That’s some story!” said a shocked Sylvie.

  “It sure is,” said a voice from the warehouse door.

  “Now what?” Martha said, turning. “Holy mackerel!”

  “You can say that again,” said Mona raising her hands.

  My pieces then fit. “Hi, Bunny, what took you so long?”

  “People underestimate us blondes, don’t they?” she said.

  “What is she referring to?” Mona asked, turning to me.

  “Meet both Marco’s wives, his silent investor, the ex.”

  Chapter 57

  Not Again!

  A startled Sidney said, “That scent! It was hers!”

  “I know. She’s the one who killed Marco,” I said.

  From me, they looked back to Bunny, amazed.

  Irving started to move. I held him back.

  Her gun screamed bullets, real ones, loud and clear.

  “This is convenient, everyone in one place,” she said.

  “Haven’t we heard this plot before?” Hazel asked.

  “Including the guns,” said Betty. “Not very original.”

  “I can’t believe it, my best friend, Bunny,” cried Sylvie.

  “That frozen-faced mummy’s no friend,” Martha said.

  Bunny sneered. “A big fire should wipe off that smirk.”

  Hazel pulled her hands down, annoyed. “Another fire?”

  Betty turned. “Not imaginative, is it? Hazel, hands up.”

  “Having bumped off a few already, you’d think she’d try something unique with us, a little flashier,” said Martha.

  Briefly thrown by their unexpected banter, Bunny threw me a look of disbelief. “And these nuts are your friends?”

  Pleased with their delay tactic, I winked at them. “Yup!”

  Right then I noticed the wheeled suitcase behind her.

  Curious about it, I asked, “Going on a trip, Bunny?”

  She glanced back at it. “That? It’s holding the gasoline.”

  I heard a collective sucking in of air at her intentions.

  Sidney began edging back slowly.

  He still had his gun! And so did Mona!

  But the rest of us were in between them both. Not good.

  Bunny called on her phone, saying, “It’s all clear.”

  Another figure appeared at the door, the next piece to fit. Nikko, Bunny’s rogue FBI leak, entered holding a gun. When he reached her side, she said, “Get these cars out and put in the worthless ones. I’m going to enjoy this one, an unfortunate storage warehouse fire with people trapped inside. They didn’t realize they shouldn’t be smoking with all this flammable material around, and in this heat, too.”

  We all saw the visuals playing out. No one retorted.

  If I had a gun I’d…Maybe Sid or Mona could distract her. I could run for help. “Where are the damn guards?”

  Bunny’s eyes shot to mine. She smiled. I didn’t realize I’d spoken the last words out loud until everyone turned.

  “They are tied up at the moment, right, Nikko?”

  Mona hissed, “Rotten scum like Nikko should be shot.”

  He ignored Mona’s remark, nodding at Bunny. “Yes.”

  “We should add the guards to the group. Go get them.”

  “Good idea. No loose ends,” he said, turning away.

  I side-glanced those cars, thinking. Of course! Why not?

  “It was more than just the cars, right, Bunny?”

  “Very good, Sam. Those large cars with their sizeable panels and compartments are perfect for shipping drugs. Then after delivery, I sell it all overseas, a double bonus.”

  I edged closer. Maybe I could knock her on her ass.

  She took a step back, aiming. “Don’t even consider it.”

  Then again, maybe not.

  Chapter 58

  And Then There Was…

  “It was you, who dropped the lipstick that night, wasn’t it?” I said, stalling. “You tried to implicate Sylvie.”

  “I thought you were my friend,” said a distraught Sylvie.

  Bunny laughed. “Well, I guess you thought wrong.”

  “Then you threw suspicion on Marco’s girlfriend,” I added. “That redhead? I bet you made her up, didn’t you?”

  Bunny laughed. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t. I was Marco’s redheaded girlfriend. Then we married. I was his silent gallery investor, but he didn’t know that at the time. When he found out, he actually had the nerve to threaten me with going to the Feds because of my mob contacts.”

  “Before he disappeared, I had to kill him and take over his gallery for a front for my money laundering. But I didn’t use enough poison in his dinner. When he realized what had happened, he went nuts and ran to the Feds. Now, that really pissed me off! So I had my surgery and waited.”

  “Yeah, waited to pounce,” I said, eyeing her steadily.

  “Then I spread gossip about the first wife getting hit.”

  “But then you heard rumors he’d bought antique cars.”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12