Key Lime Blues (4 page)

“Good.
 
Keep an eye on her and if she leaves, call me.
 
I’m in town and either me, or one of my associates, will be there to talk to her before close.”

He hung up before I could reply, so I slid the phone back into my pocket, turned back to the bar, and ordered another beer.

I never did get a chance to talk to Tanya; she spent the night avoiding me.
 
I stuck around, helped behind the bar, and waited for my client to appear.
 
He never showed, and a little before two, I left Dirty Alvin’s.
   

When I stepped outside into the humid night, I nearly collided with one of the brothers.
 
He was dressed in black, and I suspected he was high on something.
 
He shifted around on his feet and moved his shoulders, almost as if he were slow dancing to a beat only he could hear.
 
His black jeans and t-shirt looked like they were brand new, and the black leather jacket hanging unzipped from his lanky frame was out of place on the warm Key West night, as his earlier outfit had been out of place on the docks.

“She still in there?” he asked

“Where’s your doppelganger?” I asked.

“What are you talking about asshole?”
 

“Let me make it simple for you.
 
Where’s Willie?”

“You don’t need to know where Willie is.
 
All you need to remember, is he’s always got my back.”

I glanced around and didn’t spot Willie. “I’ve got to tell you,” I said.
 
“You and your brother need to hire yourselves a fashion consultant. You’re way overdressed for Key West.”
  

He popped something into his mouth, and pulling a handkerchief from his jacket pocket he mopped a trickle of sweat from his brow.
 
His head was shaved and he was a couple of inches taller than me; six-three, maybe even six-four, it was hard to tell for sure with the way he slouched.

“It’s fucking February.
 
It’s not natural for it to be this hot.”
 
He leaned a little closer and his breath was mint fresh.
 
“Besides, I’m not dressed to impress you.
 
Now shut up and take this.”
 

He held out an envelope to me. “Frankie says there’s a nice bonus in there for you.
 
He says forget you ever heard a Destiny or Frankie Szymanski.”

I took the envelope and counted out twenty-five hundred dollar bills.
 
“We usually bill our clients,” I said as I folded the envelope and tucked it into my front pocket.
 
“And I was expecting Frankie.”

“Frankie’s administration.
 
He doesn’t get out much anymore.
 
I guess you could call me the field rep.
 
I’m going to have a little talk with this Destiny chick, get what she took from the boss, and then I can go back to Detroit where fags don’t walk around holding hands and cats don’t do tricks for idiots who come in on cruise ships.”

My stomach began to churn a little at what I was hearing.
 
“I thought this was all about locating a lost love,” I said.

“Yeah—right.
 
Like Frankie is going to waste all this time and money looking for a hundred dollar whore.
 
She took something and the boss wants it back.”

“And if she doesn’t want to give back what she took?” I asked.

He shook his head.
 
“Oh, she’ll give it back all right.
 
I always collect.
 
It’s why Frankie sent me.”
 
To further accentuate the point he straightened himself up, snapped his head to the side and smiled when his neck made a popping sound.
 
“Now get out of here.
 
I see they’re locking up the place and I don’t want to miss my Destiny now, do I?”
 
He laughed aloud at his own joke and took a step away from me.

An uneasy feeling crept over me and I reached out and caught his arm.
 
“Maybe I should talk to her for you.”
 

Everything I’d read about Frankie Szymanski indicated he had a propensity for violence.
 
Despite the assurances, I didn’t trust Frankie, or his henchman.
 
The last thing I needed was to be responsible for another girl getting hurt or killed.

With exaggerated care he shook my hand off his arm and turned back to face me.
 
“Don’t never touch me like that, Darling.”
 

When he realized what he'd said his eyes narrowed and his face took on a red glow. With a quick flick of his fingers he reached for the edge of his jacket and drew it aside enough for me to see the revolver hanging in a holster beneath his left arm.

“I don’t plan to hurt the girl if get what I want.
 
Frankie, he also told me not to hurt you if you followed instructions and did what you were told.
 
Now like I said, get the hell out of my sight.”

I considered my options.
 
My great-great-great grandfather, Dusty, would not have hesitated.
 
He’d have drawn his gun and shot first.
 
There were two problems with that scenario.
 
First, I didn’t have a gun on me, and second, the last thing I needed in the middle of Key West was to reenact the Gunfight at the OK Corral.
 
Especially when there was only one gun and it wasn’t mine.
 
I figured if I moved quickly I could probably disarm him, but then again, someone might get shot.
 
Since I was the likely recipient of the bullet, I decided on a tactical retreat.

“Sure,” I said.
 
“It’s not really any of my business.”
 
I glanced over at the bar and started walking toward Duval.
 

“Now you’re thinking,” he said.
 
“I
ain’t
gonna hurt the broad.”
 
He cleared his throat and added, “Unless of course she makes me.
 
Truth is, most people see me, take one look at the gun, and it’s all over.”

I didn’t say anything, but forced myself to continue walking away from him. When I turned the corner I stepped out of sight behind a store that billed itself as ‘The Topless Bikini Shop’.

Duval was starting to wind down.
 
Traffic was light and a few late night drinkers wandered the streets in small groups.
 
If I’d seen a cop I would have flagged him down, but it appeared that if I wanted to help the girl I was on my own.

Every instinct told me to keep going, but I already felt responsible for the death of one girl in the line of business.
 
Because of that girl, I wasn’t about to leave Destiny to the clown with the gun.
 
Instead, I edged back and peered around the wall in time to see the man in black slide behind a gumbo-limbo tree and disappear into the shadows.

The first one out the door was Billy.
 
He carried a backpack and strolled over to a red motor scooter parked next to the bike rack.
 
He sat down, fumbled in his pack, and when he lit a cigarette a flash of light lit up his face.
 
I figured he was waiting for Destiny, and I wondered how Bob would handle the situation.

Marissa and Joe were next.
 
Joe climbed into a pink cab that pulled up to the curb, and half a minute later a motorcycle roared up.
 
Marissa ran to it, hopped on, and wrapped her arms around Christy.
 
As they pulled away, the door opened and Destiny followed Tanya out of the bar.
 

Destiny carried a purse slung over her shoulder, and Tanya carried a sweater.
 
In her heels Destiny was over six-feet tall and was a stunning woman, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Tanya.
 
She gave the door handle a good shake to make sure it was secure, and then the two of them walked arm in arm over to the bike rack.

“Hey, hurry up will
ya
,” Billy called out.
 
“I want to get the hell out of here.”

Destiny shot Billy the finger, and stood waiting while Tanya bent over and unlocked the only remaining bike in the rack.
 
Finally, Tanya threw her sweater into the basket and when she rode off, Destiny strolled over to stand beside the scooter.
    

Her jeans were tight, and while she struggled to climb onto the back of the scooter the man in black stepped out from behind the tree.
 
His right arm rested along his body and the weight of the gun in his hand caused him to list slightly.
 

“Hey Destiny,” he called out.
 
“Frankie wants his diamonds back.”
 
While Bob’s attention was focused on the girl, I crept along the edge of the building.
 
Keeping in the shadows of the trees and shrubs, I began to make my way back towards the bar.

“What the…” Billy jumped at the sudden appearance of the stranger and would have knocked over the scooter if Destiny hadn’t been straddling it.
 
“Who the hell are you?” he asked.
 

“You can call me Bob,” the man said.
 
“In fact, why don’t you call me Mister Bob?
 
Now scat.”

“Come on Gail,” Billy said, reaching for the throttle.
 
“Let’s get out of here.”

“Leave the broad,” Bob said.

“What are you, nuts?” Billy asked.
 
“I’m not gonna leave her.”

Bob raised his arm and his voice hardened.
 
“Look here, pretty boy.”
 
He waited until Billy looked over and saw the gun before adding, “I can shoot your ass off the bike, or you can be on your way by yourself.
 
It’s your choice.”

While Bob waited for Billy to decide what he was going to do, I inched my way along the sidewalk while searching for a branch or rock to use as a weapon. All I found was a lone coconut.
 
It lay next to the sidewalk and was about the size of a softball.
 
When I picked it up I was disappointed at how light it felt, but it was all I had.
 
I tightened my hand around the coconut and continued on.

Billy made up his mind, dropped his cigarette butt, and said, “Get off.”

“You can’t be serious,” Destiny’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“I said get off, now.”
 
Billy’s voice trembled, and he couldn’t take his eyes off the gun.

“Good thinking.” Bob waved the gun in front of him.
 
“There’s something else you need to consider.”

“What?”
  

“You need to remember—I know where you work.
 
If you even think about going to the cops I’m gonna come down here just like now when there’s no one around, and I’m going to break both your kneecaps—understand?”

“Yes sir,” Billy said.

“Good.”
 
Bob stepped toward the scooter.
 
“You don’t have to worry about the girl; I don’t want to hurt her.
 
We’re gonna have us a nice little chat, that’s all.
 
I’ll make sure she gets back home all right.
 
Now why don’t you get the hell out of here?”

“Yes sir,” Billy repeated.
 
At the same time he pushed back with his butt, forcing Destiny off the scooter.
 

“You son of a bitch,” she shouted when Billy started the bike.
 
Sliding the purse off her shoulder she grasped it by the straps and swung it toward Billy’s head.
    

He ducked, cursed when it glanced off his arm, and once again nearly tipped the scooter.
 
With a quick glare over his shoulder, Billy took off down the street as fast as the bike would carry him.

I used the distraction to edge up behind Bob. When Destiny turned to face him she saw me.
 
She opened her mouth and I gave my head a quick shake, holding a finger to my lips.
    

She hesitated, but only for a moment.
 
“How’s Frankie doing anyway?” she asked Bob.
 
I admired the girl’s spunk.

“He wants his diamonds back,” Bob said.

“I don’t have ‘em.”

“Too bad, Destiny.
 
In that case I’m gonna have to…”
 

At that moment I twisted my ankle on the uneven concrete.
 
A flash of pain shot up my leg causing me to let out a sharp breath.
 
Bob’s reaction was instantaneous.
 
He swung around, dropped to one knee, and pointed the revolver at my stomach.
    

Chapter 5

Destiny may have saved my life. She jumped forward without hesitation and swinging her purse like a mace she brought it down on Bob’s wrist. Whatever she was carrying in her bag made a dull thump when it hit and the revolver flew from his hand.

At the same time I threw the coconut. Bob ducked and the coconut zipped past his ear. When he started to reach for the gun I launched myself at him. My shoulder slammed into his face and I heard the cartilage snap in his nose. Bob let out a whoosh of air as I landed on top of his chest and then he lay still beneath me.