A Dead Husband (Jessica Huntington Desert Cities Mystery) (35 page)

CHAPTER
37

Jessica stepped out of the silver Porsche she parked directly in front of the spa
. She wanted to leave no doubt in Margarit’s mind that she was playing this thing out as she had been instructed to do.  No hide and seek with the car this time. If Margarit was already in the spa it would be easy to see Jessica was alone. 

The sun shone brightly off the gleaming white stucco of the building in which the spa was located
. Jessica looked around and saw nothing obviously sinister, no lurking hulks in Armani suits and expensive shoes.  Hers was the only car in the small lot. Either she had arrived before Margarit or Margarit was well-hidden somewhere out of sight. She also spotted no evidence that anyone was there to come to her aid, but that was a good thing.  Grabbing her bag, she stepped out of the car, locking it with a couple beeps of the electronic key.  She started toward the entrance of the spa but stopped abruptly.

“Jessica, get een.”

Margarit was sitting in the back seat of a Mercedes sedan that had pulled up behind the Porsche. Jessica couldn’t be sure if Sara was seated next to her or not. The window was only part way down and there was a dark tint on the glass. 

“Why should I get in? We can take care of business right here
. You let Sara get out of the car and go on into the spa, then I hand you the SD card you want, and we’re done.  You go your way.  I go mine.  Sara and I will even keep the appointments you were so nice to set up for us.”

“Slight change of plans
. Sara wasn’t so good at pulling herself together for her spa day. She passed out and needed to rest.  Come see for yourself, Jessica. She’s at my condo nearby. If you want to see Sara you come with me, now.  No stalling to call nobody.”

Jessica blanched, thinking she might be the next one to pass out
. Did Margarit know something? Had Peter March’s team revealed themselves?  How? Jessica’s brain had stopped working and she couldn’t think of anything else to do but get in that car with Margarit. Every fiber of her being told her not to do it.  With a little shrug of acquiescence she took a step toward the Mercedes. Margarit opened the car door and scooted over, making room for Jessica to take her spot in the back seat. Once Jessica had slammed the door, Margarit said a few words to the driver in a language that Jessica did not recognize. The driver headed down the street leading away from the spa and to one of several exits from the resort. 

“Sit back and relax, Jessica
. We’re not going far, just to Santa Rosa Cove. It weel only take a couple minutes. Your friend weel be glad to see you. She’s the nervous type. Now, how about that SD card, you want to geeve it to me and we get this over with, yes?”  Margarit took a big slug of something she had in a slim silver flask. It was then Jessica realized Margarit absolutely reeked of alcohol.

“Yes, I want to get this over with
. No, I won’t give you the SD card until I see that my friend is well and you let her go.”

Margarit tapped her foot a little as Jessica had seen her do before
. She was getting irritated but didn’t yet seem ready to snap. Jessica instinctively ran her finger through her hair tucked behind her ear and felt for the head of the hat pin that was hidden in her headband. She hoped she wouldn’t have to use it but was grateful that it was there, especially since the self-defense scenarios she had run through in her mind before were all set in various parts of the spa. Not a good sign that Margarit had changed venues on them.

“S
uit yourself. What’s to stop me from just taking it from you?” She looked at Jessica with that predatory gleam in her eyes, dulled a little by a veil of inebriation. Drinking would certainly impact Margarit’s judgment and might make her behave more impulsively. Jessica hoped she wasn’t using the booze to deaden the last tatters of a conscience the woman might possess.

“Because you don’t want to wrestle me in that gorgeous Donna Karan silk pant suit you have on
.  And, you don’t have to do that as long as you keep the deal you made. You let my friend go and I give you the SD card.  I believed you when you said you’re not in this to hurt anyone and you just want to get away from Alan.”

“Yes, that’s right
.  Like I said, I’m not the kind who enjoys keelling.  But don’t keep me waiting. I can’t afford to change my iternerary, um my iteenerary.”  She let out a little giggle, stumbling over the word itinerary.  She was sloppy drunk or close to it. 

The driver had pulled through the gates of Santa Rosa Cove, next door to the resort
.  Moments later he was turning into the driveway of one of the stucco and tile bungalows built in the 80s and 90s. They could probably have walked to the place from the resort in the about the same time that it took to drive there.  A garage door rose in front of them and the Mercedes pulled into a spacious, well-lit garage. As the car came to a stop, Jessica bolted from the car like a coiled spring. She didn’t wait for any further instructions from Margarit, who was getting out on the opposite side of the car. She reached the door that led from the garage into the house before Margarit or the driver. Jessica’s heart lurched as she recognized the driver. The goon in Bruno Maglis stood before her, having stepped out of the driver’s seat.  He still had a small nick on his forehead where her high heel had hit him a couple days before.  He lunged toward Jessica then drew up short as if hit by a bolt of lightning. Seeing he was in pain, Margarit let out a vicious cackle.

“Let her go, Aiden
. She’s eager to see her friend. Where’s she going to go with such a sleepy friend on her hands?  Besides, you’re not in the best shape to tangle with Jessica after her cleaning lady shot you in the ass are you?” The nasty, guttural laugh that Jessica had heard over the phone issued from Margarit again.

“Fix ush all a drink, Aide
n. You have one too. You weel feel better where it hurts.” She was still chortling as Jessica let herself into the house.  Jessica was sorely tempted to lock the door from the inside but figured that would only aggravate Margarit and Aiden. One or both of them probably had a key. Or they could shoot the damn lock off. It had not escaped Jessica’s notice that when Aiden lunged at her, his jacket fell open, exposing a gun in a shoulder holster.  It sounded like Sara was in no shape to make a quick exit.

“Sara, it’s Jessica
.  Sara, I’m here. Where are you?”  Jessica heard a muffled response from somewhere in the house.  She moved quickly in the direction of the sound and found Sara in a back bedroom, struggling to sit up.  Jessica helped her into a sitting position, placing pillows behind her to prop her up. Sara struggled to speak. Her mouth was dry and she was having difficulty focusing her eyes.

“Jessica, is it really you?” she asked, her head wobbling a little as she tried to maintain her focus
. She smiled wanly, and closed her eyes, leaning back against the pillows and the upholstered headboard.  “I don’t feel so good.” 

With that, Sara sort of slid sideways and dry-heaved off the side of the bed
. Jessica caught her, growing angrier by the second. She shifted Sara back onto the pillow. 

“What have you done to her, Margarit? I promise if you’ve hurt her you’ll never get that SD card
.  She needs water, now.”  Jessica was shouting and there was no need to do that. Margarit was standing in the doorway holding a tray with two drinks on it.  Playing the part of the hostess from hell did not make Jessica less angry.  Her fury mounting, she dashed into the bathroom that was part of the en suite in which Sara was being held.  She filled a glass she found, in a tray on the sink, using water from the tap. She also dampened a wash cloth, wringing it out before returning to Sara’s bedside.

“There’s nuffing wrong weeth your friend that food and sleep won’t feex
. I tol’ you she is the nervous type so we helped her relax a leetle.”  Margarit was downing one of the drinks, holding the tray in one hand. 

Sara took
a few sips of water. Jessica wiped Sara’s face with a damp cloth. Despite what Margarit said, Sara did not look well. They needed to get out of there and get Sara to a hospital. 

“If we don’t get our beezi
nus done Alan might make her feel a whole lot worse. He wants that card back.  So do I, now! Where eez it?”  She stomped her foot, and that was enough to make the tray wobble, sending the other drink on the tray tumbling to the floor. The glass broke into pieces and the smell of gin filled the room.  Aiden was at the door to the bedroom in an instant.

“What’s going on
? She giving you trouble?” Aiden had bounded into the room with his gun drawn. As he entered the room, he bumped into Margarit who was not only drunk, but wearing ridiculously high heels.  She lost her balance. Margarit tried to recover, hit the spot on the floor where the booze had spilled and slid. Reaching for Aiden, she pulled him off balance. The gun wavered and then fell to the floor, skidding on the tile around the foot of the bed. Aiden struggled to free himself from the drunken albatross.  Like a drowning woman, she was flailing about, making it impossible for him to free himself or retrieve the gun. He hit the ground, his hand landing on a large nasty looking shard of glass. He yowled in pain.  For whatever reason, that riled Margarit, who was on her knees facing him.  She smiled that cruel little smile of hers and then slapped him.

“You eedeeot
. What are you doing screaming like that? There’s notheeng wrong weef you. Shut the fuck up or I tell Alan what you been doing and he keell you for sure.”

Blood was pouring from a gash in the palm of his hand where the glass shard had pierced it clean through
. Jessica tried not to take satisfaction knowing all too well how much a cut like that could hurt after that recent incident in the parking lot. He did not say anything but punched Margarit, hard. So hard, she fell and hit her head on the corner of the end table nearby. Her eyes opened wide in stunned surprise before she crumpled into a heap on the floor.  Still on his knees in a mix of alcohol and blood, Aiden scrambled for the gun.

Jessica wasn’t sure what she
would do with the gun, but she wasn’t going to let that asshole get to it.  She was pissed off enough to shoot him, and Margarit, if she moved a muscle.  Aiden was as angry as she was.  When he reached for the gun, Jessica launched the glass of water from the bedside table next to Sara. The glass clocked Aiden on the side of his head, a glancing blow that sent him sprawling.  He did a sort of belly flop as he lost his balance and the one arm supporting him slid out from under him.  Jessica grabbed the gun and pointed it at him.

“Move again and I will shoot you
. The pants to your suit are ruined but you might be able to save the jacket if I don’t put a couple bullet holes in it.” That would be a shame if it was an Armani. 

“Now that wouldn’t be a nice thing to do at all Ms. Huntington-Harper.” Jessica turned slightly, still aiming the gun at Aiden
. Alan Bedrossian stood in the doorway, taking in the scene.  He was accompanied by a couple of his security guys in suits similar to the one she had just threatened to ruin. They both had guns drawn, one pointed directly at Sara, the other at Jessica. She looked over at Sara, thankful that she had passed out again. Jessica had no idea what to do. 

Sensing her panic, Alan Bedrossian spoke in a soothing tone, “Why don’t you hand that gun to me
. I’m not sure how good a shot you are but my guys don’t miss.” Jessica was still trying to decide what to do when, reacting to the slightest nod from Bedrossian, one of his men took a step toward her. In a blur he snatched the gun from Jessica then used it to pistol whip Aiden, who had struggled back onto his knees and was making a move to get the pistol from Jessica. 

She had no idea if Aiden
was playing the hero in front of his boss, or if he had something more sinister in mind. Stupid and sinister if he imagined he could get the jump on Alan and his men.  The pistol had been used with brutal efficiency. A part of Aiden’s skull was crushed and blood was pouring from the wound.  Jessica was spellbound by the gruesome sight.  She looked up at the man who had delivered the blow.  He had returned to Alan Bedrossian’s side, looking as though nothing had happened.  Splatters of blood on his suit said otherwise.  There wasn’t a gun anywhere to be seen. Crisis over, problem solved. Now what? One misstep and they’d dispatch her as deftly as they had Aiden, who was lying in a pool of his own blood.

“Now how about you give me that SD card Ms. Huntington-Harper?  I had my doubts about you, but Margarit assured me you knew where it was and that you’d bring it to her
. The stupid bitch thought I believed she was going to give it back to me. Not for one minute did I take her at her word after she stole from me. Her boyfriend, Aiden, did us all a favor by shutting her up, don’t you agree?”

Jessica, who was standing on the other side of the bed, was pretty sure she and
Sara were done for as soon as Bedrossian had that card back.  Where was Peter March?  He must have heard Margarit tell her they were going to Santa Rosa Cove.  Also hidden in her headband along with the hat pin was a tiny device that he could use to monitor her interactions to make sure she was okay.  It would have taken them a few minutes to regroup and make their way to the Cove after them.  Even if they had to negotiate a way in through the gates with Detective Hernandez and other police officers in their party that should have happened quickly. Surely they were outside waiting for the cue that she was not okay and that it was time to act.  Just then Sara moaned and all eyes shifted in her direction.