They looked at each other, obviously not sure what step to take next.
“You James Lessor?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Well, can you tell us where he is?”
James could have been in the apartment or maybe he was on the back patio. He could have gone to the bathroom or the little kitchenette. I really didn’t know.
“I have no idea where he is.” They were going to figure me out in a second.
“How about-” The guy with the mouth pulled out a piece of paper, “-how about Emily Williams?” That heavy accent. Could have been the guy who flashed his flashlight and badge at us last night.
“Seriously. I don’t know.”
The first guy, with a rough complexion and slicked-back black hair, took a step toward me.
“Look, we ran the plates on these two vehicles in front of this apartment. Now maybe you don’t know where these two people are, but it’s important we talk to them.”
I was sweating bullets. “If I see them, why don’t I tell them to call you.”
“The car and truck are both here. They’ve got to be here. Why don’t you invite us inside just to see for ourselves.”
“Can I ask you why you want to see them?”
The greasy one looked for approval from the mouth. The big guy shrugged his shoulders.
“Both these vehicles were spotted in Little Havana last night, just before a building exploded. We’d like to talk to the owners about what they might have seen.”
“Are you with the police?”
“Yeah.” They said it almost simultaneously.
“Miami Police?” I didn’t believe it.
“Sure.”
“Do you have identification?”
The mouthy guy drew a deep breath. “If we find that either of these people had anything to do with the fire or if they say anything about what they might have seen, the cops will be the least of their worries. You need to tell them that. You need to tell them that whatever they saw or thought they saw last night needs to stay with them. Do you understand the message?”
I could feel drops of sweat running down my chest. “I think so. I’ll be happy to pass the message on.”
I saw him round the row of buildings in front of me. He just cleared the structure, paused, and stood there, like a silent sentry. I watched him for a second too long, and my two visitors both turned their heads and saw him too. He continued to stare at us, arms folded, an imposing black statue. Our own Angel.
They turned back to me, the look on their faces a little less certain. The greaser spoke. “You can’t begin to imagine what will happen if they tell anyone about last night. Please tell me you understand this.” He looked back over his shoulder.
“I understand.”
The mouthy guy with the accent put his hand up, and for a moment I thought he might strike me. “One more thing. If you ever watch a property again, don’t use the old ‘we were just making out’ routine. It’s very dated.”
They spun around and walked off the porch, getting into a big blue Buick.
I stood on the porch for thirty seconds, waiting for my heart to stop racing. Angel was nowhere to be seen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
L IKE I SAID, everyone liked Vic Maitlin. Even if you were envious of his swarthy good looks, his talent, his scholastic aptitude, and his sexual prowess, you still couldn’t help but like him. You could overlook the fact that he hung around with those two hoods, Cramer and Stowe. He was a guy’s guy. He’d hang with the regular guys and make everyone feel his aura. I know it sounds almost supernatural, but he had an aura. You wanted some of it to rub off on you.
“I wanted some of whatever he had. It just seemed that you should be able to bottle him and pour it over yourself whenever you needed a dose of cool.” James sat on the arm of the couch, watching the news babe, the sound a low babble.
“With a missing finger and threats from beefy guys like those two, I don’t think I’d want to be Vic right now.” I pulled a beer from the refrigerator. “Em?”
“No. I’m fine. These two guys actually mentioned what I said about making out?”
“Why would I make that up? Yes. The one guy seemed to know exactly what happened last night.” I twisted the top off and took a deep swallow. I needed something to calm me down.
“The phony cop.”
“That would be my guess.” I drained half the bottle.
“And they said to keep it quiet? Hell, we didn’t see anything.”
“Between the three of us we saw two guys in uniforms. Or maybe we saw the same guy. We saw the windows blow out of the building.”
James kept his eyes on the TV. “You said you saw three vehicles burning. Two in the parking lot, one in the alley after I’d left.”
“So what could we have seen?”
“Either we’re not aware of it or they think we saw something we didn’t.” Em stared at my beer.
“You sure you don’t want one?”
“No. A glass of water? Never mind. I’ve seen the glasses you’ve got in the cupboard. Chipped, stained, and I believe I saw mold growing on a couple of them. Get me another Sprite.”
“Wasn’t mold,” James said. “There was a sale on fuzzy glasses down at Gas and Grocery.”
Em feigned a smile as I handed her the cold green can.
James finally turned his head. “I think we drive back to Bal Harbor and confront Fuentes. He obviously has an idea of what the hell is going on.”
“I get the idea he may be responsible for what’s going on. I agree. Now that you’re a target-”
“I’m a target?” James looked at me questioningly.
“You and Em. They know your names and your vehicles.”
“Yeah. And they know you and Emily lied about making out in the car.”
“I don’t think they know who I am.”
“Nobody ran the plates on your ’96 Prism?” James asked.
“It wasn’t there, James.”
Orange flames licked the television screen and James increased the volume.
“More news on the horrendous fire in Little Havana early this morning. Police and fire investigators say that two bodies have been pulled from the rubble. At this point, Captain Ed Stabil said the remains were too badly burned to be identified.”
“Jesus, I hope one of them wasn’t Vic.” Emily looked up at me and for the second time that morning had tears in her eyes. She usually wasn’t the weepy type. “God, Skip. This just keeps getting worse and worse.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“A LL RIGHT, I’LL CALL HER.” Em struggled with the idea. We’d brainstormed for an hour and decided that Jackie needed to know. She was the one who told Em that she thought there were terrorists involved. We thought maybe we could get a little more information before we confronted Rick Fuentes.
She dialed the number, and we sat drinking the last two beers and contemplating what the conversation might lead to. I looked at her, my eyes going up and down her body. I glanced at James and he was doing the same thing. So obvious. She wore tight pedal pushers and a top that exposed her stomach. It hit me that we hadn’t made love in a week. To be honest, I thought about it every day. Every hour. Every couple of minutes. Em’s got a great body, very fine skin, and fine golden hair that she wraps around every part of a guy’s anatomy. I wish I could say ‘wraps around every part of my anatomy only,’ but I’m sure there are others.
“Jackie!”
She paused, smiling.
“Hey, me too. I thought the same thing.”
One phone. No extensions. What the hell, it was fun to imagine what was going on on the other end of the line.
She broke out laughing. “No. Well, if you say so. I think they had other things on their mind.”
I saw James perk up. He thought the same thing I did. They referred to us.
“No, seriously. They had something to deliver to you.”
Silence while Jackie apparently talked.
“Uh-huh. Jackie, please listen to me. I’m going to explain what happened and it’s sort of complicated. Just listen, and when I’m done with this story we can talk, okay?