Jay Giles (18 page)

     
“Why doesn’t he have them share control?” I asked. “He and Ernesto did.”

     
“Enrico doesn’t believe his nephews get along as well as he did with his brother. He thinks they’d fight constantly and the cartel would suffer from the infighting.” Raines paused, leaned forward. “Enrico has told a few of his key advisors he’s looking beyond the nephews—”

     
“D’Onifrio,” Tory said softly.

     
Raines looked at her, smiled. “Exactly. Enrico’s adopted son.” He stroked his moustache reflectively. “D’Onifrio has some baggage, too. Some of the senior council members question whether he’s ruthless enough to head the cartel. So until Enrico makes the decision, D’Onifrio’s under a microscope. They’re looking for anything and everything. Knowing that, D’Onifrio is trying to find any perceived problems and eliminate them before they become issues with the cartel.”

     
“You think that little bit of money Joe took would have been an issue?”

     
“Oh, yeah. First, it raises the leadership question. If you’re a good leader, your people are loyal to you. They don’t steal. Second, D’Onifrio didn’t realize the money was missing, didn’t immediately correct the situation.” Raines made a face. “Sloppy. They won’t tolerate that. Third, three hundred grand isn’t a little bit of money; it’s a chunk. More importantly, it’s a chunk of their money. You don’t trifle with their money.”

     
I nodded. “D’Onifrio made a comment to me about it being his depositor’s money.”

     
Raines reacted with surprise. “You talked to D’Onifrio?”

     
“I had to,” I said and told him about Wilder, Eddie’s death, the deadline I was facing, and the plan I’d come up with.

     
“Sorry about your dog. I’ve got a black lab, myself. I know how I’d feel if that happened to him.” He stroked his moustache. “I find it difficult to believe D’Onifrio would go along with this marriage idea.”

     
“He said he was willing to give it a try because it wouldn’t attract attention.”

     
Raines grimaced. “Still doesn’t make sense. There’s no guarantee he’ll get his money. No time limit.”

     
“He said I had a month.”

     
“Enrico and the nephews are due in town for a big powwow about then.” He thought for a second, frowned. “He could be setting you up to show them how ruthless he can be.”

Chapter 28

“What do you mean?” I asked, nervously.

     
His gaze darted to Tory, back to me. “I don’t mean to frighten you, but the timing bothers me. D’Onifrio could be planning on killing or torturing you in front of Enrico and the nephews. Be a hell of a way to overcome objections he’s too soft.”

     
Tory’s eyes were wide. “You don’t really think he’d do that?”

     
“Yeah, I do. He’s working hard to present the right image. Let me give you an example. D’Onifrio was about to receive a national award for his generosity in helping deaf
Latina
children. He’s donated over a half-a-million of his own bucks for hearing aids, operations, whatever helps. He was scheduled to be honored in
Miami
last week. Two days before he was to pick up his award, he canceled. Why? So he didn’t look caring. Wrong image if he wants to run the cartel.”

     
I was only half listening, replaying the meeting with D’Onifrio in my mind, looking for something to disprove Raines theory. There wasn’t anything.

     
“What do you think we should do?” Tory asked.

     
Raines thought for a moment, looked directly at me. “The first thing you’ve got to do is realize it’s his agenda, not yours, that’s being followed. He’s playing you for a fool. Your only chance is to get away. Go to the police and ask for protection. If you don’t want to do that, disappear. Move to
Montana
. But don’t think you’ll win against D’Onifrio. You’ll lose—and when you lose—it’s going to cost you your life.” He looked at his watch.

     
I glanced at mine, too. Eleven-twenty. An hour had flown by.

     
Raines got a business card out of his pocket, slid it across the table to me. “That’s how you can reach me if we need to talk. Never call from a cell phone or your own phones. Too much chance of being overheard. Call from a pay phone; I’ll call you right back.” He stood. “You guys go ahead. I’ll leave in a little bit.”

     
Tory and I stood.

     
He extended his hand, first to her, then to me. “Good luck,” he said when we shook.

     
On the ride back to
Sarasota
, I stewed over what he’d told us. I had more information, not necessarily more answers.

     
“Want me to call Frankie and cancel tonight?” Tory asked.

     
If I took Raines’ advice and got as far away from D’Onifrio as possible, there was no need to go through the motions at the A.A. meeting. I could load the few things I needed into the car, leave for parts unknown. If I left, I’d lose the brokerage, quite possibly Nevitt’s suit for damages.

     
“Did you hear me? Do you want to cancel tonight?”

     
“No.”

     
Tory looked over at me, surprised.

     
“We go on as planned.”

     
Although Tory argued against continuing, eight o’clock found us back at St. Mark’s for the nightly A.A. meeting. If this thing was going to work—if Janet had been intrigued by Frank Ford’s money—I was counting on her initiating some sort of contact tonight. The good news was that she was already there when Tory and I arrived. I didn’t have to worry about whether she’d be attending the meeting or arriving late.

     
Fish was already there, too.

     
The bad news was that Janet, standing by the coffee table, had three men buzzing around her. Fish sat, all by his lonesome, in the front row on the opposite side.

     
It seemed an insurmountable gulf. So far, I hadn’t seen her even glance his way. Still, I wasn’t ready to panic. The meeting wouldn’t start for another ten minutes. Tory and I found seats in the back and settled in to watch the show. And that’s certainly what she was putting on. Her act was almost musical, an ever-changing combination of three notes: hair fluff, boob jiggle, derriere wiggle. That night her costume consisted of a tight leopard skin-patterned top that showed plenty of cleavage, tight black capri pants, and silver stiletto heels. On a couple of jiggles, she almost came out of her top. Those guys couldn’t get close enough to her.

     
“Can you believe this?” Tory whispered.

     
“She’s a tease, all right.”

     
“Tease? That one guy is sporting such a woody he’s going to poke a hole in his pants.”

     
I shook my head. “She hasn’t even looked Fish’s way.”

     
Fish’s shoulders were hunched. He looked like he was getting ready to throw up.

     
“He isn’t exactly looking her way, either,” Tory said.

     
“It may be sacrilege to suggest this here, but maybe we should have loosened him up with a couple of beers before we came over.”

     
“Might not hurt. He’s way too uptight to make a move on her.”

     
“The move Fish would like to make right now is out the door.”

     
Tory shrugged. “He said he could do it, Matt. We’ve got to give him a chance.”

     
“Look at him. Does he look like he can do it?” I didn’t wait for her answer. I nodded in Janet’s direction. “Look at those guys. They get off just being around her. Fish is terrified.” I shook my head. “Still, I don’t know what choice we’ve got. I can’t go up and kick him again.”

     
The bearded man made his way to the podium. Every couple of steps, he stopped to take a sip of his coffee.

     
“We rehearsed what he needed to do. He knew it backwards and forwards,” Tory whispered. “She just needs to make the first move.”

     
“Good evening, everyone.” The bearded man held his coffee cup with both hands as if to soak up the warmth. “If you could find seats, we’ll get started.”

     
Janet fluffed her hair one more time, said something to the three men, and sashayed—alone—to a seat on Fish’s side of the aisle.

     
Tory leaned over. “See,” she whispered in my ear.

     
She saw Janet’s choice of seats as an indication she was getting closer, getting ready to approach Fish. To me, Janet was still six rows away from him. They weren’t playing kneesies yet.

     
The program started. One by one, members of the audience got up to talk. I was beginning to recognize some of the regulars—Sid, Ethel, and Don.

     
To my surprise, Fish got up. He gripped the sides of the podium with his hands. His eyes showed terror. “I’m Frank Ford, and I’m an alcoholic,” he said in a deep, quivering voice. “I’m new to
Sarasota
. Been sober since I got here—twelve days now. Really don’t know anybody yet. Oh, I met a few people, sure—doctors mostly. Them I gotta know. But I don’t know any, you know, real people. It’s pretty lonely. I guess, cause I’m lonely, I want to drink, which I know I shouldn’t do.” He paused, surveyed the room, his heavy brows knitted. “I learned something from this, something important. Friends are like a bypass operation, you need ‘em to keep you going.” As abruptly as he’d gotten up, he sat down.

     
“See,” Tory leaned over and whispered. “Surprised you, didn’t he?”

     
Stunned was more like it. His pathetic plea had been perfect. Unfortunately, two long-winded talkers followed Fish to the podium. The first man was bad, the second awful. So bad, in fact, the bearded man stepped in and announced they were out of time.

     
Nobody complained. Some people stood and began moving around, Janet among them. She scooted down the aisle, turned the corner, and intercepted Fish. They stood there talking. Or rather, she talked. Fish might have said a word or two. She smiled. Fish nodded. Something was decided. She took his arm, and they headed out together.

     
I tried not to stare as they walked by.

     
“Oh, my God,” Tory said as soon as they were out the door. “It worked.”

     
“C’mon,” I said, standing up and following them. “We need to see what happens.”

     
She hurried to keep up with me. “You want to spy on them?”

     
“I prefer to think of it as chaperoning.”

     
Out on the street, we saw Fish holding the passenger door of the Mercedes open for her. She got in. Fish closed the door and headed for the driver’s side. We walked hurriedly up the sidewalk to where I’d parked the Saab.

     
With the head start he had on us, I was afraid we’d lost him. Five blocks down the street, however, we spotted the Mercedes parked at the curb in front of a Starbuck’s. That made sense. I remembered Tory’s comment about how they’d gotten to know each other over coffee.

     
“Aren’t we going in?” Tory wanted to know when I continued past.

     
“Starbuck’s is a little too cozy for the four of us. I think we’d do better to watch from out here.” I put my left turn signal on, waited for a car to pass, turned left into a driveway. I backed out, drove to a spot on the opposite side of the street from Starbuck’s. From where we were parked, we saw Fish and Janet carry their coffee to a table by the window.

     
After only a few minutes, Tory groaned. “This is like watching paint dry.”

     
I looked over at her, surprised. “Wait a minute. I’m the one who should be bored. You’re the P.I. You should be extolling the virtues of stakeouts.”

     
She gave me a pained look. “You are so full of crap.”

     
“
Moi
? Your employer?”

     
The pained look continued. “Stakeouts went out with the Rockford Files. Nobody has time to sit around and hope they see something.”

     
“And your alternative would be?”

     
“How about changing our appearances? You’ve done it once. I’m sure I can come up with something.”

     
“I had a friend in the theater who helped me. I’ll call her and see what she can do for you.”

     
Tory nodded. “That’s better than sitting in the car all the time. I feel like a stalker.”

     
Fortunately, their coffee didn’t take long. Forty-five minutes later, Fish escorted her to the car, they got in, and he drove her back to where her car was parked. After that, we thought he’d head back to the condo. He did, with one stop on the way, a liquor store, where he bought beer. Lots of beer. A celebration?