Geek Mafia: Mile Zero (33 page)

Gimme five minutes and we race!"

"Don't want no race," the killer insisted.

"I win, I pay you twenty bucks. You win I pay you fifty!" Cassie said to the other boat owner. Chloe reflected that the nice thing about being crazy is that no one thought twice when you said something insane. She just hoped she could find her way back to the boat in five minutes.

"You gotta deal," the boat owner said.

"No race," the killer repeated through a mouth full of canned corn.

"She's gonna pay me twenty just for losing," the man explained to the killer. "I been losin' the last three years and ne'er got paid for it. It'll be a slow race, don't you worry."

The killer must've known that any attempt to convince his ride not to take easy money would raise suspicion he didn't need, so he just grunted and let the matter drop.

"A race! A race! A race!" Cassie sang, delighted. "In five minutes we RACE!"

She wasn't subtle, thought Chloe, but she gets the job done. She turned away from the fire and tried to find her way back to the boat. She caught a whiff of urine on the wind and thought that might be the right direction.

Stun gun ready, she picked her way through the trees. She passed the couple who'd been fucking, now lying in each others arms in the sand at the base of the tree. It was a surprisingly sweet sight. She tiptoed past them and found the water. She waded through ankle-deep surf the last hundred feet to the boat.

She didn't know where the other guy kept his boat. It could be hidden in the trees twenty feet away for all she knew. So, just to be safe, she climbed into the boat and lay down in the water inside, out of sight from anyone who might pass by. It stank of mildew and rot and was ice cold. On a normal night she would be out on Duval somewhere right now, looking for marks or maybe at the party with Paul and Sandee. Someplace comfortable with good drinks and great pot. She tried to comfort herself with thoughts of getting back to those pleasures soon, but was surprised to realize that she felt more alive now than she had in months. "Fuck," she thought as cold saltwater seeped through her shorts, "this is not the glamorous life, but I do love it."

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The truth was that nothing about life in Key West had been very glamorous or exciting. Ok, sometimes the party could be more than a little awesome, especially when Sandee was on his A-Game. But it was hard work scratching out a geek grifter's life here. She and Paul had both agreed that flat-out robbery and theft and even extortion were not the business they wanted to be in. Nor did they want to steal from anyone who couldn't afford it. They were supposed to be Robin Hood (or at least that's what they told themselves so they could sleep at night). All fine and good. But that didn't leave a whole lot of opportunity. And with even Miami a good three-hour drive away (if there was no traffic), it wasn't like they could branch out to other cities very easily.

There'd been talk of getting a condo up in South Beach and splitting their time between the two cities, but the truth was, they didn't have the capital or manpower to expand. The four of them were running themselves ragged just to keep up with expenses here. Those fucking cameras of Bee's cost a fortune, even when they were stolen. Maybe this plan of Isaiah's would open things up for them. She sure hoped so. She needed something. 206 Geek Mafia: Mile Zero

It was more like fifteen minutes before Cassie showed up. Chloe didn't hear her untie the boat. All of a sudden it was moving and Cassie was laughing and they were out in the water. The engine roared to life and the race was on.

"Hey!" shouted Cassie over the engine. "Did I wake you?"

"No," Chloe said, laughing. "Good call on the race. Thanks for covering for me like that."

"I can tell a hawk from a handsaw," Cassie replied.

"Really? I'm not sure I can," Chloe responded from her prone position. "So where are they?"

"Coming around the island now. Keep your head down. Your friend is looking right at us." Cassie gave the other boat a big wave with her whole arm. "READY? SET! GO!!!!" she shouted.

But instead of pouring on the acceleration, Cassie just eased the engine a bit, and they puttered along. "The other guys aren't really racing," she reported. "Or maybe they are. Porky's boat has a really small motor."

The other boat must've been slow, because it took them five times as long to get back to shore as the outbound trip. "They're not going into the marina," Cassie said in a low voice between shouts at the other boat in which she urged them to go even slower. "They're headed for Simonton Beach."

"Crap," said Sandee. "Are you sure?"

"I think so. We're almost there."

Simonton Beach was a tiny public piece of beachfront property sandwiched between two hotels, one of which was unfortunately Eddie's place, the Hyatt. It made sense as a landing place if the killer was going to check in with his bosses. But there was just a single cement pier there, and it would impossible for Chloe to disembark without being noticed.

"Hey, does your phone work?" Chloe asked.

"I don't have a phone," Cassie replied, her tone implying that Chloe had just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable.

"I gave you a phone. You called me on it."

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"That's your phone," Cassie pointed out.

"Ok, but does it work?"

"Sure!"

"Can I have it?" Chloe asked.

"Sure!" said Cassie, but she wasn't making any move to hand it over.

"Can I have it now?"

"I hid it on the land. I didn't want it to get wet."

"Good thinking," Chloe said with a sigh. "Ok, well, give up this slow boat race crap and speed me around to Mallory Square. I'll jump off and then run over before they make land. I'll pick up his trail there."

"Ok!" The engine roared to life and Cassie cackled as they made a sudden swerve to starboard and sped through the channel. Less than two minutes later, Cassie repeated her fast break maneuver, again stalling out the engine and slamming into the seawall by Mallory Square to boot. Ground level was a good five feet above the water-logged floor of the boat, but Cassie gave her ass a push and Chloe managed to clamber onto shore with only a few scrapes on her knees. She blew her crazy friend a kiss and then sprinted across the wide plaza, dodging tourists on her way to Front Street. She had a killer to catch.

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Chapter 27

PAUL met up with Sandee outside the Crawford place, where the party continued from the night before. Still in girl form, Sandee had changed out of his Morgana costume and into a miniskirt and tube-top combo with knee-high stiletto boots and fishnets. Both Chloe and Paul had argued that it wasn't exactly the most efficient killer-hunting outfit when he'd left the house, but there was no changing Sandee's mind when it came to fashion. Besides, Paul had seen him fight in stilettos before, and it was a mighty impressive sight.

"How's the party going?" Paul asked, as he put the scooter in gear and turned back the way he'd come, Sandee clinging to his back.

"I hardly got a chance to tell," he pouted. "But Quinn seems to have things under control. Bernie and Erica say hi."

"That's great," said Paul, "But Bee's been tracking Jeanie for like half an hour now and she's gone into a dead zone."

"You mean that new restaurant on Fleming?"

"No, I mean a place with no cameras," Paul said. "Over near the library. But we've got all the streets coming and going from there, so we think she might have gone to ground on that block. Or, just as likely, she's meeting someone, maybe even in that park by the library there."

"And we're going to check it out?" said Sandee.

"That's the plan," said Paul.

"I'm not really dressed for it," he pointed out.

"You'll have to make due. We did warn you..."

"Fine, fine. Hey? Where's Winston? Did he go ahead?"

"He actually left to do whatever it is he does when we're not around. Got a call from Lily and had some sort of emergency. I suspect maybe Isaiah wanted to talk to him about something, but who knows."

Paul pulled the scooter up onto the sidewalk near Mangia, Mangia, his favorite Italian place on the island, which was only a few blocks from the library. "We walk from here," he said, dismounting after Sandee. He undid the bungee cords holding his backpack to the scooter's rear and slung it over his shoulder.

"What's the plan?"

"We play tourists out for a late evening walk and see if we can find any sign of her," he said, pulling a New York Yankees cap from the bag and putting it on. Sandee looked at him, adjusted the hat to sit lower over his eyes and nodded.

"And hope she doesn't recognize us?" Sandee said.

"That's the idea," Paul said. "I've got two more cameras in the bag if we need them."

"You know, I never watched reality TV before I met you three, and let me tell you, it's even more boring than I thought it would be."

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"Glad to help," said Paul, offering his arm to Sandee. "Care for a stroll?"

They walked down the street, arms linked, keeping up a happy, fake patter about imaginary friends doing scandalous things back in New York. They had fun one-upping each other, which made the laughs they shared genuine and thus provided a stronger false impression for anyone watching them. Paul chose the side of the street opposite the library, not wanting to pass too close if Jeanie or anyone else was indeed lurking in the garden area beside the old building.

"And then Misty St. Clair showed up wearing a Dolce Gabbana from two years ago, and I just had to laugh because I'd seen the same dress on a streetwalker..." Sandee was saying, when they came up across from the garden. There was someone in there. Someone moving on the other side of the low hedge wall that separated it from the street.

Paul stopped, swung Sandee into his arms and kissed him, then whispered, "Nuzzle my neck..."

Sandee did as he was told, rubbing his cheek against the side of Paul's neck as they held each other close. "Is she in there?" Sandee asked.

Paul peered into the darkness. The figure was a woman, about the right height. It had to be her. "I think so,"

he said. "Looks like she's alone."

"So now what?" Sandee purred, giving Paul's butt a playful squeeze. In spite of himself, Paul was getting kind of turned on.

"Good question," he said, returning the squeeze. He leaned back to expose his neck even more, giving him a chance to look around at the surroundings. Houses. Guesthouses. An antique store. No good place to set up a camera without being noticed. They'd have to play it dangerous.

Paul started walking again, his arm around Sandee's waist as he leaned close, kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "We'll go around the block and circle back. You find a hiding place at the far end of the street, and I'll go find some place back from where we came. We'll have an open cell line, and if anyone comes to meet her, we'll see him."

Sandee nodded, "So, no more kissing?" he joked.

"Not unless I get my girlfriend's permission," he replied with a smile.

Once they reached the end of the block and turned the corner, they split up. Sandee eyed a tree and, to Paul's amazement, managed to shimmy up into its branches, stiletto heels, miniskirt and all. Paul envied his mad monkey skills, but didn't see himself taking the two or three hours a day to do yoga and gung fu that Sandee always made time for. Still, he was in better shape than he'd been in a long time, and the jog around the block didn't even wind him. There were no handy trees to hide in however, nor was there even a shadowed doorway.

The street was well lit, the local shops closed.

With no other choice, Paul moved back up the street toward the library, this time staying on the same side of the street as his target. He'd noticed a row of bushes along the library's façade, near the doorway. If he could sneak in there without being detected, it'd be a great hiding place. Sticking close to the building's wall, he made his way toward the spot, and in the darkness he nearly tripped over the man sleeping there. "Shit," he thought. The man stirred and turned over, but didn't wake up. He stank of course, like sweat and alcohol. Paul weighed his options and decided he was better off staying put. As long as he was quiet, the man would probably sleep right through his surveillance. And there really wasn't anywhere else to hide.

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He squatted down in the damp earth, his back against the library's exterior wall. He couldn't quite see the street from there, and so began picking away at the bush's branches, clearing a line of sight through the foliage. When, ten minutes later, someone did walk by, he could only see enough to confirm that, yes indeed, someone had walked by. After they'd passed, he risked poking his head out to take a look. An older man in jeans and a T-shirt with dark hair. He walked right past the library garden without so much as a glance inside.

Not their guy. Nor were the next three men and two women who walked by, one of whom happened to glance over her shoulder and catch Paul sticking his head out. She just gave him a quizzical look and smiled. This really was not the best hiding place.

Five more minutes passed in discomfort. Paul's back was killing him. He wanted to talk to Sandee, see how he was doing, but there was no sense making unnecessary noise just because he was bored. As it turned out, it was Sandee who eventually broke the silence.

"There's someone coming," Sandee reported over the cell phone. "I think it's that guy."

"Which guy?" Paul asked in a whisper. "Raff ?"

"No," Sandee hissed. "The guy. The killer guy."

"Shit," Paul said. "Ok, let's see what happens."

Paul waited, holding his breath and trying not to move a muscle. After a minute, the man still hadn't passed by his location, even though he'd had more than enough time. "He hasn't come by here, yet." Paul told Sandee.

"I can't see him either," Sandee replied.

"Ok, I'm going to get a closer look." Paul pulled out his digital camera from his backpack and set it to night vision. Then stepping back over the sleeping man, he inched out from behind the bushes as fast as he could without making too much noise.