Blind Faith (10 page)

"A little before two."

More than enough time to get to the airport for his flight back to
Philadelphia
.
Except he had never boarded it.
Somewhere between
South
Beach
and Miami International, something had happened. "Did you know Jonathan was married when you first met him?" Kelly asked casually.

"Yes."
Magdalena
walked over to a table, opened a silver box and extracted a cigarette. "I also knew he was unhappy. His wife was always working."

Kelly couldn't imagine Jonathan saying something so cruel and so untrue to anyone, even a mistress.

Admittedly,
Victoria
was busy and had to travel abroad a couple of times a year, but she had never neglected her family. If anything, Jonathan was the one who worked long hours, often coming home too late to put his daughter to bed.

Kelly looked around the lavish surroundings.
Magdalena
didn't look as though she punched a time clock either. "You said earlier that you used to be an exotic dancer. Does that mean you're no longer working?
" .

Magdalena
let out a rich, throaty laugh.
"Heavens, no.
Jonathan wouldn't allow it, even though my boss was very unhappy about my leaving." She gave her long tresses another flip. "I was his best dancer. I brought in more customers than all the other girls put together."

That part wasn't difficult to believe.
Magdalena
exuded sex from every pore and wasn't shy about flaunting it. "Pardon me for asking.
Miss.
 
Montoya, but, if you're not working, how do you afford a place like this?"

"Jonathan pays my rent." She said it without the least bit of embarrassment. "And all my other expenses as well."

Kelly was speechless. How could Jonathan afford such an expensive mistress? Granted, he earned a good salary, and so did Victoria, but between the mortgage on the new house, Phoebe's private school, the membership at an exclusive golf club and a couple of vacations each year, there wasn't much left of their monthly budget.

At the concerned question, Kelly quickly nodded. "Yes, I ... I was just thinking. Don't mind me."

As she started to turn, an object on the other side of the mantel caught her eye. Startled, she stared at the small, delicately carved bottle in a brilliant shade of blue and recognized it immediately. It was the snuff bottle
Victoria
had described--the one that had disappeared from her shop.

"May I ask you where this bottle comes from?" she asked.

Magdalena
blew her cigarette smoke toward the ceiling. "Jonathan gave it to me to add to my collection." She nodded toward a white lacquered cabinet across the room. Inside was an assortment of miniature bottles of every shape and color. "Why do you ask?"

"Because a very valuable snuff bottle identical to this one disappeared from Victoria Bowman's antiques shop two days ago."

Magdalena
's face registered instant shock.
"Oh, my God!
And you think this is it?"

"It certainly fits the description."

"But--"
Magdalena
crushed her cigarette in a silver ashtray. "The bottles in my collection are very inexpensive, no more than a hundred dollars at the most. Jonathan knew that." She took the bottle from the shelf. "Could you be mistaken?"

"I could be. I'm not an expert, but
Victoria
would know."

Magdalena
looked clearly uncomfortable. "Look, I don't want to get in trouble." Her hand shook as she handed the bottle to Kelly. "Take it," she said. "Give it back to Mrs. Bowman. And please tell her I had no idea this was a valuable collectible, or that Jonathan had taken it from her shop. I would have never accepted it otherwise."

Kelly hesitated. Taking such an expensive object with her was a huge responsibility, but it was the only proof she had that Jonathan had been here on Monday. "I'll need something to wrap it in," she said.

"Of course."

Magdalena
disappeared into another room and came back a few moments later with a small sheet of bubble wrap. Afraid the plastic would destroy the fingerprints already on the bottle, Kelly first wrapped the object in her handkerchief, then in the bubble wrap. As she worked, Kelly's thoughts remained on Jonathan. How could she have so totally misjudged him? How could he have seemed such a perfect husband on the surface, and have had this secret life in
Miami
? Other men might be capable of such deception, but Jonathan?

When the bottle was safely tucked away inside her bag, Kelly handed
Magdalena
her business card. "Will you let me know if you remember anything else?"

Magdalena
glanced at it. "Remember what? I told you everything."

Magdalena
raised her chin. "Would you betray the man you
love.
Miss.

Robolo
?"

In other words, Kelly thought, the answer was no. In spite of her disappointment, Kelly couldn't help admiring
Magdalena
for standing by her man. Or maybe it wasn't that at all. Maybe her true concern was that if Jonathan was found and returned to his wife, or in the worst-case scenario, arrested, she would lose her meal ticket.

Kelly kept those thoughts to herself. "Thanks for being so candid with me," she said as they walked to the door. "All that prying into your private life couldn't have been easy for you."

Magdalena
gave a small shrug. "That's okay. You were a lot nicer to talk to than Detective Quinn." Her smile turned teasing.
"But not nearly as sexy as that other detective."

"The good-looking one.
Tall, with red hair and blue eyes.
His name was Nick
Mcbride
."

Twelve.

"This morning.
As a matter of fact, he left just a few minutes before you arrived."

Kelly thought of Nick's sudden interest when she had told him about Jonathan's disappearance and how his questions and comments had led her to believe he would help her. Then he had turned her down at the last moment making her feel like an idiot.

"Was he here on official
police
business?" she asked.

"He showed me his badge, so I assumed he was. What other reason would he have for being here?"

What other reason indeed? "I was just curious."

Kelly forced herself to think rationally. Okay. So Nick, on official business or not, had gotten to
Magdalena
first. What harm was there in that? He hadn't learned any more than she had, unless
Magdalena
, with her obvious affinity for handsome men, had been more forthcoming with him than she had been with Kelly.

"Don't take this wrong. Miss. Montoya, but did you by any chance tell Detective
Mcbride
anything you didn't tell me?" Kelly tried not to sound accusing but must have done a poor job because
Magdalena
looked hurt.

"Why would I do that? I have nothing to hide from either one of you."

"I'm sorry, I had to ask. The man has a million tricks up his sleeve.

You want to be careful with him."

Magdalena
's eyes twinkled with amusement. "He didn't look so dangerous to me."

"He works at it."

The temperature and humidity had risen a few more degrees by the time Kelly stepped out of the air conditioned building and into the brilliant
South Florida
sunshine. The beach volleyball game was over and instead a juggler in swimming trunks and an alligator headdress entertained a small crowd, bowing every now and then as delighted children laughed and clapped. An elderly woman with blue hair and lime green slacks walked by, licking an ice-cream cone. She smiled at Kelly, who smiled back.

How different yet uncomplicated life seemed here, Kelly mused. Was that why Jonathan kept coming to
South
Beach
time after time? Or was there another, more lucrative reason for those monthly visits? She didn't want to believe he was involved in something as sordid as drug trafficking, but how else could he afford to pay the rent on
Magdalena
's condo?

And what other reason could he have had for staying at a place like the
Encantado
?

Glancing at her watch, she saw that she had another three hours before her flight back to
Philadelphia
. Maybe instead of waiting at the airport, she could put the time to good use and try to find out a little more about the lovely Senorita Montoya.

She was in luck. Salamander, the nightclub where
Magdalena
had worked, was open from noon to 4:00 a.m. and was located just off
Thirty-seventh
Street
.

It took her cabdriver only fifteen minutes to get there, but what a difference the short drive made. Leaving the glitz of
South
Beach
behind, the cabbie drove west, past the downtown area, then through several neighborhoods that ranged from run-down to downright scary.

Kelly held her bag against her chest, praying she hadn't made a mistake in taking
Victoria
's snuff bottle with her.

Before she could dwell too long on her fear of being robbed, the driver pulled into a long, dingy alley off the main thoroughfare and stopped.

"Here you are." He glanced up at the sign above the battered wooden door, looking nervous.

Kelly followed his gaze and understood his uneasiness. Whoever had chosen the location for Salamander hadn't done it for the view. Two high walls covered with graffiti bordered the alley, shutting out all sunlight. A nearby apartment building with a crumbling facade and most of its windows boarded up made the place even more of an eyesore.

Kelly almost told the driver to turn around and take her to the airport, but then chided herself. She had been in worse places than this, and
Thirty-seventh
Street
, though not heavily traveled, was only fifty feet away. All she had to do was make sure her cab was there when she came out.

Trying not to show her own apprehension, Kelly took twenty dollars out of her purse. "I have to get to the airport after I'm finished here," she said, holding the bill just out of his reach. "If you wait for me, I'll let you keep the change from this twenty and I'll double your fare to the airport."

The cabbie's eyes darted right and left.
"Okay," he said, snatching the bill. "But you
gotta
make it quick, lady. This is a bad area. I don't want
no
trouble."

"I'll only be a few minutes."

The interior of the tavern was dim, and Kelly had to wait several seconds for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Once they did, she saw a plump, heavily made-up woman with bleached blond hair sitting at the bar, nursing a drink. In a far corner, close to a small stage, two large men with their arms tattooed from one end to another played a pinball machine and drank beer from the bottle.

At a call from the blonde, a surly bartender with a two-day stubble, a dirty T-shirt and a toothpick in the corner of his mouth appeared from a back door and watched Kelly approach, while the two pinball players made suggestive remarks. Kelly ignored them and walked straight to the bar.
 
"May I have a club soda, please?" As the bartender filled a glass, she once again dug into her bag for money, this time two twenties and a ten.
 
She also took out a photograph of Jonathan she had borrowed from
Victoria
. "Is the owner around?"

"I'm the owner." The man put the glass in front of her with a bang.

"In that case, I'd like some information." She put the money on the counter, along with Jonathan's photograph.

The bartender eyed the bills, then the photograph. "What kind of information?"

"Have you ever seen this man?"

The toothpick was switched from one end of his mouth to the other.

"Yeah,
I seen
him." His voice was heavy with resentment.

"When was that?"

"'bout a year ago.
Son of a bitch took my best dancer away."

So that much was true. "Did he ever come back?"

"No.
Or
Magdalena
.
I still owed the bitch a week's pay but she never bothered to come and pick it up."

Of course not.
She had latched onto a very generous sugar daddy. "Tell me about that night," Kelly said, wondering how much more her fifty dollars would buy. "Did he come in alone?"

"Came alone, sat alone and only had eyes for
Maggy
. That's 'bout it."