Read Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath Online

Authors: Emily Kimelman

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - P.I. and Dog - Miami

Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath (8 page)

BOOK: Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath
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“Project?” I asked. Anita was a reporter, a damn good one. She owed me enough that I figured she would keep her promise never to write about me but…

“Who’s dinner with?” Dan asked, still facing the ocean.

“Robert Maxim.”

His shoulders tensed and he snorted a laugh.

“What?” I asked.

“You don’t want me to answer that,” he said, keeping his back turned.

“No, really, what?” I said.

“As I recall when we first met, he was your enemy and Mulberry was suspect. Now you’ve fallen into bed with one and are dining with the other.”

My face felt hot. “You make it sound so simple.” He turned back into the room, the ocean glinting behind him. I took a deep breath. “Hugh is in trouble and I’m trying to help. I thought that’s what you wanted, too.”

Backlit by the last light of the day, it was hard to see Dan’s face. “You’re right,” he said, his voice sounding calm again. “That is what I want.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“You don’t trust me.” He took a step toward me.

“I don’t trust me,” I said, feeling a pull toward him.

“I just, I really want-”

A knock on the door interrupted us as Dan reached for me. I turned to look at the entrance. Blue ran to the door, barked, and sat. Mulberry, I thought, and then Dan’s hand was in my hair.  He turned my head capturing me in a kiss. His other arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me against him. Without thinking I responded, burying my fingers in his hair, my leg bending up to curl around him, pressing the hilt of the knife into the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh.

Blue barked again and I pulled away, my breathing heavy. Dan looked down at me, his eyes roaming my face. I disentangled from him and straightened my skirt as I walked over to the door. Checking the peep hole my suspicion was proven right; Mulberry waited in the hall.

I sighed involuntarily and opened the door feeling Dan’s kiss on my lips and the wild beating of my heart against my breast. Mulberry smiled nervously and immediately began talking. “Hey, sorry to bother you, I know you’re leaving soon but I just wanted to talk to you before you left. Can I come in?”

Dan walked up behind me. “Mulberry,” he said, his voice cold.

Mulberry’s nervousness disappeared and he stood up tall, straightening his broad shoulders. “Dan, I didn’t know you were here.”

“I only just arrived.”

“Don’t worry,” I said to Mulberry, trying to end this as quickly as possible. “I’m not planning anything stupid for tonight.”

“What’s going on?” Dan asked.

The ding of the elevator was quickly followed by the sound of children’s voices headed our way.

“Let me in,” Mulberry said, making eye contact.

“Fine,” I said, stepping aside for him to enter. For a moment Dan blocked his path and the two men stared at each other, the air between them pulsing. Blue pushed up against Dan’s hand and he turned back into the room, Mulberry following behind him.

Seeing the dress box where I’d left it on the couch, Mulberry walked over to it and picked up the note. He turned to me. “Robert sent you that dress?”

“Yes,” I answered, raising my chin.

Mulberry ran his hand through his hair and licked his lips. “Do you think you should wear it? Didn’t you go shopping today?”

“Why wouldn’t I wear it?” I asked, ignoring the second part of that question. “You said I could trust him.”

“What’s going on?” Dan asked.

“Mulberry told me to trust Robert Maxim despite the fact that every cell in my being tells me he set this whole thing up to get me here.”

“I don’t think he is going to hurt you,” Mulberry said, his voice louder than it needed to be. His eyes whipped to Dan and then back to me. “But, he, I wouldn’t be surprised if he came on to you. Hard.”

“So I should trust him, but not
too
much,” I said anger building in my chest at both of them being there at all, at Bobby Maxim for being who he was, at myself for not knowing what to do, for the burning lips and the heat I felt. “You don’t think I can resist him?” I asked. “Am I so easy?”

Mulberry’s eyes darkened. My eyes narrowed as I stared back at him. Flicking my eyes to Dan I saw him staring at the ground. Neither of them answered me. Blue’s nose nudged my hip, reminding me he was there.

I took a step back. My lip curled. “Fuck both of you,” I said my voice low. Neither of them looked at me. “I never promised either of you anything but you still think you own me.”

“It’s just-” Dan started and then gave up.

“It’s just what, Dan?” I shook my head. “If I’m such a slut how come you’re both so in love with me?” Their eyes jumped to my face. It was almost like I’d slapped them. “Get out,” I said, feeling the rage building inside me. “Now,” I said. Blue growled low in his throat, backing me up.

CHAPTER SIX
A Fuck or a Fight

W
hen I got downstairs I was still fuming. I crossed through the lobby, my mind filled—the look on Dan and Mulberry’s faces, the thumping of my heart, the heat in my chest. So when a bellboy touched my elbow, I whirled around on him quickly and aggressively. Blue let out a low growl and the young man stumbled back. It was the same kid who delivered the dress and I took a deep breath before apologizing. 

He smiled nervously. “Mr. Maxim asked me to give you this.” He held up a key fob with the Audi symbol on it. “Your car is waiting outside.”

“Thank you,” I said, taking the fob from him. In the hotel’s half moon drive a midnight blue Audi A4 was the only car without a driver. It was parked in a tow zone. I crossed to it and stood for a moment. Its headlights reminded me of panther eyes. I felt a thrill and realized that this was going to be fun.

Blue’s head grazed the ceiling of the passenger side. I pulled out onto Ocean Drive and followed the instructions programmed into the car’s navigation system. The traffic was slow, this was a street more for showing off than getting somewhere. Eyes drifted across the car, taking in the dark metal, the sculpted lines, the Audi symbol that told everyone how much this beast cost. People crowded the streets, girls in short skirts and high heels, men with broad shoulders and recently cut hair. They all looked good, in their best outfits, out to find a fuck or a fight. The same as a million others who roamed the streets of any city in any part of the world. It often amazed me how different we all were and yet how still the same instincts drew us from our homes and out into the night.

As we inched along Blue let out a yelp and I turned to see Dan and Mulberry standing next to a beat up Land Cruiser parked in an alley off the main drag. Mulberry ran a hand through his hair and looked at the ground. Dan shook his head and opened up the door of the SUV and said one more thing before climbing in. It must be his car, I thought. It occurred to me that Dan had lived in Key West before I’d called him away. He’d never mentioned what kind of car he drove and I’d never asked. Mulberry turned away and walked deeper into the shadowed alley as Dan’s car turned on, the brake lights glowing. A car tooted behind me and I realized the light was green.

We reached the highway, and when I opened Blue’s window he stuck his nose out so that as we picked up speed his ears flapped in the wind and he half closed his eyes, letting the long lashes touch to protect his sensitive irises from the rushing wind. I barely began to feel the power of my new ride when the GPS told me to turn onto Star Island. I slowed and made the right, crossing a bridge to where a guard booth waited, a long arm blocking the road any further.

I rolled down my window as a smiling guard asked my intentions. “I’m here to see Robert Maxim,” I said. He nodded and let me through. I would have thought he’d needed my name or some kind of ID. As I passed under the gate I saw before me a long, narrow park that ran through the center of the island. It formed an oval with the road ringed around it. The name of the park was displayed on a sign installed by the city. They weren’t really allowed to keep people off this island, I thought, as I drove along the park, they just liked to pretend they did. A guard booth was certainly enough to dissuade unsure oglers from crossing the bridge.

To my right, opposite the park, were walls covered in tropical vegetation. A dense mix of green vines, bushes bursting with bright flowers, and wide fronds waving gently in the breeze was periodically interrupted by gates marking the different homes. Each had its own flare, Brass Lions here, entwined Dolphins there. The GPS directed me to Robert’s. His gate was solid, oxidized steel. There was nothing to see but a speaker box and the impenetrable metal.

I pulled up to the intercom and rolled down my window. Blue leaned across me, his nose pulsing, hoping to see if my side of the car revealed any new scents. Before I had a chance to speak, the gate began to open. Looking up, I saw a small camera mounted in a nearby tree. Of course, he was waiting for me. Or at least someone was.

The receding gate revealed a driveway leading to a house, white and large. As I approached, I saw it was a classic from the twenties that had been updated by just the right modern architect. The result was something at once grand and modern, maintaining the stateliness of the original home. There was nothing gaudy or ugly about it.

I took a deep breath as I pulled up to the entrance. The driver, Claude, hurried down the steps and opened my door for me as I turned off the car. Blue followed me out and Claude led us up the stairs and into the house.

#

W
e passed through a grand entrance way and down a short hall. Claude showed me into a large and airy living room, one wall of which was glass panels. This mild evening they were pushed to the side letting in a cool breeze that ruffled the surface of an unlit infinity pool and flowed right into the house, bringing the salty scent of the sea and the sweetness of night jasmine with it. Across the bay, the glass high-rises of Miami reflected the deep blue of the sky. Their lights twinkled brighter each moment as the sun slipped further beneath the horizon.

Claude closed the door behind me and I stood for a moment surveying the room from a marble landing.  Four steps down brought us to the living room where two leather chairs and a deep gray canvas couch faced the view. A grand piano was placed to the side, its top covered in photographs. A bar curled along one wall, shelves lined with bottles lit from behind.

It was masculine without being chauvinistic. The interior designer had done a good job. I walked over to the piano taking a closer look at the photographs. Blue sat by my side, letting his shoulder brush against my leg. Bobby Maxim was in most of the pictures. In two of them, he was shaking hands with former presidents. Another showed him, younger, wearing a suit with lapels only appropriate to the 80s with his arm around a starlet I recognized as famous, but couldn’t place. The oldest photograph showed Bobby, his face soft and boyish, standing between an older man and woman I assumed to be his parents. Bobby smiled out at the camera wearing a cap and gown, his mother and father looked proud as they squinted against the day’s bright sun. They were both shorter than him and dressed in Sunday best that wasn’t that great. 

Blue let out a low growl and then I heard the the door open. Turning around I saw Robert Maxim, the man himself, standing at the top of the landing. He smiled and his gaze glided over me. I suddenly felt the fabric of the dress tight across my stomach, hugging my thighs, pushing at my breasts.

“You look wonderful,” he said as he came down the steps. “The dress fits you perfectly, I’m very pleased.” His suit was charcoal and cut to show off his shoulders and tapered waist. Open at the neck, his white shirt contrasted with his tan skin. A pocket square completed the debonair look.

“Yes,” I said, glancing down at myself. “At first I thought it was far too extravagant a gift but then, I figured, you owed me.” He laughed. “Whoever picked it out did a good job.”

He frowned. “I picked it out.” Close now, he looked down at me. “When I bought it I wondered where you’d hide your weapon. I know you’ve got one on you.” He licked his lips. “I’d love the chance to find it.”

I laughed. “You are such a cliche.”

He smiled. “Cliche?”

“Rich guy like you, multiple wives, hits on employees-”

“Ah, so you’re agreeing to be my employee?”

“No.”

“Well, you’re the only one I hit on.”

I laughed. “Yeah, right. And I bet you’re an excellent piano player. That’s why you keep it in your living room. It’s not just a prop for pictures of you with famous people?”

He grinned and took a seat on the bench. Flipping up the lid, he laid his elegant fingers to the keys, then looked up at me and began to play. A soft trill followed by another, his hands leapt up and then came down quickly, like jumping spiders, and he was off, fingers flying across the keys, then slowing and gently teasing, the pace picked up again and as he bent over the piano a lock of his hair fell against his forehead and danced with each movement. As the song came to a close he looked up at me again and smiled. His fingers slipped to his sides and he turned away from the keys. Standing, he said, “It was my mother’s. She played every day.”

“Do you?”

He shrugged. “Not as much as she’d like.”

“You sounded good.”

“I believe that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me.”

I shrugged and looked over at the bar. “Aren’t you going to offer a lady a drink?”

He laughed. “Of course.” We crossed the room together, Blue staying between us, and then Robert stepped behind the bar. “What can I get you? Wine, whisky, tequila gimlet?”

“You’ve done you’re homework.” He smiled and turned to grab a bottle of tequila from the shelf. As he mixed my tequila gimlet I looked around the room again. “How’s Pammy and Toby?” I asked after his wife and dog. I’d first met Maxim when I became his dog walker back in New York City. So, you could say I met him through his dog.

“Toby hasn’t been the same since you left. The new dog walker’s a real pill,” he said turning back to me, gently shaking my cocktail. Pulling a chilled glass from under the counter he placed it on the bar in front of me. “Pam and I divorced last year,” he smiled. “We share custody of Toby.”

BOOK: Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath
13.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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