2 Lady Luck Runs Out (10 page)

"Okay," I said.
What else did he expect me to say?
I pulled my sweater tighter around me. "And?"

"Can you take me through how that night unfolded?"

I stared at him over my teacup.
What was he after? Surely, the police gave him all the information about that night?
Finally I shrugged. No harm in telling him, I guess. After all, it was his mother. Maybe Landon was wrong about Zach's and his mother's relationship? Maybe they were close.

"All right. My sister and I were on one of those walking ghost tours and found Lucky in the Traveler's Palm Inn conference room. Actually, she kinda jumped on my sister and held on for dear life. She seemed really traumatized so we decided to find her owner. Not that tough, since your mother's address was on her collar." Okay, so I was leaving out the vision with the shadow person. He wouldn't have believed me anyway. "We knocked, but there was no answer so we went around back. The lanai screen was ripped and a broken potted plant lay busted on the tile. Seemed odd so I called my detective friend. He didn't think anything was suspicious until he talked to the neighbors and no one had seen your mother for a few days. Plus the next door neighbor mentioned an odor. That, along with Lucky normally being an indoor cat, well... he decided to call for back up and enter the condo. Where they found your mother."

I glanced around.
Where the heck was Will?

"And the snake that bit her, it was still in her home?"

"Yes." I snuck a glance at him while he stared out at the backed up traffic on Beach Drive. Why did he make me so uncomfortable? It was like watching a volcano, all hard rock on the outside, bubbling molten lava beneath the surface ready to erupt at any moment. Was he suspicious of her death, too? "I'm sorry for your loss. Were you and your mother very close?"

His jaw twitched and he brought his intense gaze back to me. "We hadn't spoken in awhile. I'm out of town a lot." His eyes dropped and he sighed. "You know how it is. Two different worlds. Makes it hard to communicate."

I blinked.
Two different worlds? Was he talking about my father again?
  His confiding tone threw me for a loop.

He continued quietly, almost like he was talking to himself. "My mother, she was a nineteen-year-old gypsy when my father found her. She became his prisoner. Unlike your father, mine didn't break the rules for love. He wasn't that noble." His eyes flashed and then cooled as he smiled at me. "I always reminded her too much of my father."

Okay. Wow. I was really starting to feel in over my head here. I didn't want to know this much about him. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop myself or my curious nature. "Um, so that's why you two didn't speak?"

"Yes." He shrugged. "She was a very stubborn woman. Viciously so at times."

He was being so open here, I had to ask. "Zach, do you know of anyone that might have wanted to harm your mother?"

His attention was fully on me now. He tilted his head slightly and leaned forward. In the bright afternoon sun, I could see flecks of red glinting in his dark eye. They were mesmerizing. "You are suspicious of her death?"

I swallowed. "Yes." There I go, telling him the truth again. I began to panic. Now he was going to ask why I was suspicious. Luckily, Will approached the table at that moment.

I'm sure my relief was apparent as I sank back in the chair and let Will greet me with a kiss on the cheek.

Will stared at Zach and then back at me. "Sorry I'm late. Got tied up."

"Well, here, I'm being rude." Zach nodded at me as he stood and held out a hand. "Zachary Faraday."

"Zach is Rose's son," I offered, as Will shook his hand and eyed him suspiciously. "We met at her funeral service."

"Detective Blake. So sorry for your loss."

He and Zach continued to stare at each other for a moment. Finally Zach's face broke into a dazzling smile and he chuckled. It was the first time I had ever seen him really smile. "You two kids enjoy your lunch. Darwin, can we continue this conversation at a later date?"

"Sure." I cringed inwardly at his use of the word
date
. "Oh wait, Zach!" He turned back to me. "Do you know who Lucky's vet was? I need to make sure she's not due for any shots."

"No, but I can find that information for you. I'll be in touch."

"Interesting character," Will said, watching Zach make his way across the road through the traffic. "What else did you two have to talk about besides the cat?"

Was he jealous?
I held my hands over the steaming cup of tea, suddenly aware of the warmth that had left with Zach. "He wanted to know about the night we found his mother's body. I guess he's still trying to deal with his grief. Figure out some rhyme or reason for such a tragedy." I picked up the menu and changed the subject.

I hated keeping things from Will and that's all I seemed to do since we met, but there was nothing else I could tell him about Zach. I certainly couldn't tell him that Zach saw danger in my future. Or that I'd be facing it with him. I shivered. "I think today calls for some warm French onion soup."
Comfort food.

"Cold?" Will slid his chair around next to mine and wrapped an arm around me. "That better?"

I grinned up at him as he pressed his lips into my hair. "You know what would be even better?" His slow smile made my insides hum. I smacked him playfully on the arm and scooted my chair sideways a bit so I could face him. "What would be even better is if you told me something about your family. You know, since you've had the pleasure of meeting my sister."

He ran his fingers up my arm. An echo of sadness washed over me.

"All right." He cleared his throat. "I had an older brother, Christopher. He was ten years my senior. When I was eleven, he was murdered. Stabbed to death at a party. No one was ever convicted. My mother died a year later from the grief and stress. She never recovered from losing him."

I entwined my fingers with his. How awful. I couldn't imagine losing one of my sisters that way.  I could see why he never talked about his family now. "And your father?"

"He lives in Tampa. He's almost seventy now. He hasn't been the same since losing my mom. Still talks about her to anyone that'll listen." He shrugged. "He's adapted, though. Learned how to microwave dinners and all that."

"I'm so sorry, Will." I shifted to rest my head on his shoulder. "Is that why you became a homicide detective?"

He laughed and then shrugged, kissing the top of my head. "Yeah. I guess I wanted to solve all the unsolved crimes. So no family would have to feel like we did. No closure, no justice. It leaves an open wound."

"But, you can't solve them all."

"No." His voice rumbled close my ear.  "But I can sure try."

I snuggled closer to him as we waited for our food. An odd mixture of sadness and frustration gripped me. I could help him solve some of the more unsolvable crimes. If only I could confide in him about what I knew. Oh and that I was once again investigating a murder behind his back.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

McGillis had said there were five people in St. Pete with a license to keep venomous snakes. Fortunately, Florida's Fish and Wildlife Commission made its database of those licenses public record. A quick internet search gave me the five addresses.

I was on my own Saturday. Sylvia and I had decided to keep Darwin's Pet Boutique open on Saturdays during the heavy tourist season to make up for the slower summer sales. Mallory had agreed to work that Saturday and let me check out the snake owners. 

The first house on the list sat about five miles north of downtown. It was bit of a shock when the cab pulled up to a typical Florida neighborhood with older ranch houses. I was expecting something more secluded. More sinister. I wondered if the neighbors were aware of the dangerous snakes inside.

I asked the cabbie to wait for me and made my way up the driveway to the front door.

Within a few seconds a small girl, her wispy hair in two uneven ponytails, answered the door.

"Hi." I smiled down at her. She held a red Popsicle and it was dripping down her chubby arm.
Did I have the right house? Surely, this cute little girl wasn't living with dangerous snakes?
"Is your mom or dad home, Sweetie?"

A woman walked up behind her, wiping her wet hands on a dishtowel. "Hannah, what have I told you about opening this door?" she scolded. "Go eat that at the table."

She eyed me suspiciously. "Hi, we don't want any magazines."

"Oh, no," I said, smiling. "I'm not a salesperson. I just wanted to ask you a question."

She glanced behind her and folded her arms. "All right?"

"Were you or anyone in your residence acquainted with Rose Faraday?"

Her mouth twisted in thought. "No, can't say I recognize the name. Who is she?"

"She was a local psychic that got bit by a rattler and passed away last week. I'm just following up with the people who own venomous snakes in the area to see if they might have information on where the rattlesnake came from."

The woman's face registered genuine sadness. "That's awful. Well, my boyfriend keeps two Burmese pythons here but no rattlers. Aren't they native in the wild?"

"In the wild, yes. But she was bitten in her condo."

"Huh." The woman shook her head. "A psychic you said? Shouldn't she have seen that coming?"

"Guess even psychics can't see everything coming." I shrugged. "Well, thank you for your time." I went back to the cab, gave him the second address and mentally crossed this house off my list.

The second house was a nice brick rancher with a chain across the gravel drive, a 'No Trespassing' sign swinging from the chain. The cabbie pulled over to the side of the road and I walked around the chain, noticing JAMISON painted on the black mailbox. This must be the guy Sammy said recently acquired two rattlesnakes. My heart sank as I stood there ringing the bell and knocking and no one came to the door. Rats. I'd have to come back. I definitely needed to talk to Mr. Jamison. Right now he'd stay on the list.

I was starting to feel a bit queasy as we headed west through stop-and-go traffic. I guess I just wasn't used to being in a car. Even with the air conditioning blasting from the front vents, the air felt stale and suffocating.

 When we stopped at the third house, I stumbled out of the back seat and sucked in fresh air. There was a rusty pick-up truck parked in the front yard's scrubby brown grass. After my stomach settled down, I approached the front door.

Before I could knock, a large man holding a beer can greeted me through the screen.

"You lost, sweet thing?" He opened the screen and a whiff of stale beer and urine made my stomach clench again.

"Just had a question for you, sir." Had to do this quick and skedaddle. "You own poisonous snakes, correct?"

He leered at me through glassy eyes. "You came here to take a gander at my snake? Well, come on in."

I ignored him and my sudden urge to run back to the taxi. I did however glance behind me to make sure the taxi was still there. "Were you acquainted with a woman named Rose Faraday?"

His face hardened. "Is she that stripper bitch? I done told the police I didn't grab her, she was fallin' off the stage and I just kept her from fallin'."

I blinked. Wow. Time to go, he obviously wasn't the murderer. I doubt he could sneak around at night without falling into a lake or getting hit by a bus. "No. That's not her. Thank you for your time." I sang "la la la la la" in my head to drown out his parting comments as I hurried back to the taxi and slammed the door. "Go, please!"

By the time we reached the fifth and final house, I was feeling really nauseous and frustrated. This was looking more and more like a waste of valuable time.

We drove back down 18th Street toward the Bay and crossed back over Beach Drive. I sat up as the driver pulled over in front of a black gated driveway leading up to a peach stucco mansion. "This is it."
Now this was different
.

"Just wait here, please." I instructed the driver before getting out and approaching the gate. There was a black call box on the right side. I mashed the button.

A female voice erupted from the box. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Hi," I waved in case she could see me. "My name is Darwin Winters. I'm not selling anything. I just have a question to ask about a woman named Rose Faraday. I'm trying to find someone who knew her."

After a beat, the woman answered. "I'm sorry. Mr. Grayson not home until Wednesday. You come back."

I squinted at the monstrous house. She must be the housekeeper or caretaker. Surely she knows everything that goes on in that house then. "The name doesn't ring a bell for you?"

"No, Miss Winters," the box squawked. "You come back."

I sighed. "Okay. Well, thanks for your time." Nothing. Zero. Zilch. I fell back in the taxi, my stomach now growling, my head foggy with frustration. Time to head home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I tried to keep busy while Mallory relaxed on the balcony Sunday morning with Lucky curled up in her lap, watching the activity across the street at Straub Park. Today was the annual Dog-O-Ween costume contest. St. Pete vibrated with the excitement of it all. Above the bird calls and rustling of the breeze in the palm trees, voices and laughter reached us.  A temporary stage was being erected, orange lights were being strung in the trees, and vendors were setting up booths to sell food and drinks. The weather was to die for. Sunny with a light breeze. It was going to be a great time, so why was I feeling so down?

Mallory must have heard my sigh. "All right, spill it. Is it Will?"

I looked up from clipping some purple and yellow pansies into a bowl of water for new flower essence. Mallory and Lucky were both staring at me.

"No." I shrugged, removing my straw sunhat and tossing it by the French doors. "Yes. I don't know." I slipped the tiny sheers back into my gardening apron. I shouldn't be handling the flowers while feeling down anyway. My vibrations were all wrong.