Key Lime Blues (28 page)

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Authors: Mike Jastrzebski

Tags: #Suspense & Thrillers

BOOK: Key Lime Blues
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My mother stood and picked up her purse. “All I’ve ever asked is that you keep an open mind. I’ll talk to you in a couple of days and you can let me know when you can fly back.”

I nodded and she turned and left. She knew enough to quit while she was ahead. It didn’t really matter. I knew I wasn’t going to change my mind, whether I was here or back in Detroit.

It was time to pay Elvis another visit. Outside, the rain had stopped, but the sky remained gray. I nearly stepped on a baby chick running along the sidewalk trying to catch up with its mother. I’d been told the city once hired a bird catcher to rid the island of its flock. It wasn’t long before the locals and visitors alike rose up against the idea, and the bird catcher was no more.

Chapter 28

It was a few minutes past noon when I arrived at Elvis’s house. Dom was standing at the top of the stairs. Unlike my first visit when he met me in formal attire, he was now dressed island casual; khaki pants, a short-sleeved pink dress shirt that pulled across his massive chest and Nike running shoes without socks.

“Morning Dom.”

He smiled. “Elvis is waiting for you.”

“Quite the psychic.” I felt bad the moment I said it. I knew from my previous visit that my tongue-in-cheek attitude about Elvis upset Dom.

I winced when Dom’s body stiffened and his smile turned to a frown. “Why do you do that?”

“I’m sorry.” I turned my eyes away the giant of a man standing in front of me and felt myself blush. I had spoken without thinking and now I’d hurt Dom’s feelings. All for no other reason than I was having a shitty couple of days. He didn’t deserve it.

“You shouldn’t make fun of Mister Elvis,” Dom said. “He hasn’t done anything to you. He’s only trying to help.”

There was no doubt in my mind Dom believed Elvis was the real thing. In my defense, private investigators tend to be skeptics by nature. Not only don’t I believe in psychics. I don’t believe in ghosts, UFO’s or the abominable snowman. I couldn’t help how I felt or what I believed. Still, I should at least take Dom’s beliefs into consideration when I spoke to him.

“Dom,” I said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve taken part in two investigations involving psychics. In both cases, the only thing those so called psychics were interested in was relieving my clients of as much money as they could.”

“Mister Elvis is different. He tries to help people.”

“He doesn’t work for free, Dom,” I said. “He takes money from people who are in too much pain to think straight. Do you believe that’s right?”

“Everybody needs money to live. I’ve seen people who have come wallowing in desperation walk out of here with a smile on their face after talking with Elvis. Is that so wrong?”

“Dom, it would take a miracle to convince me Elvis, or anyone else for that matter, has real psychic abilities. I think it’s wrong to try and convince people you can do and see things that are impossible.”

“Then why are you here, Mister Darling?”

“Good question. Maybe your boss can tell us.”

I could read the disappointment on Dom’s face. He turned away from me and stepped back into the house. “Follow me,” he said.

Elvis was seated behind his desk when we walked in. He was wiping his hands with a tissue and didn’t look up for several moments. Nothing had changed since my previous visit. The desk held the same crystal ball, the same deck of cards, and the same box of tissues. Elvis was also dressed like before, same suit, same shirt, and same tie.

Elvis folded the tissue and dropped it into the wastebasket before looking up. His shoulders were slumped and his face was deeply lined, almost as if he were in pain. He appeared to be less sure of himself than the last time I’d seen him. I almost felt sorry for the guy.

“You can leave us, Dom. Wes, please have a seat.” He pointed to the leather armchair across from him and waited until Dom was gone before adding, “I was afraid you wouldn’t come. The last time we met you made it clear you didn’t hold a very high opinion of me or my craft.”

“Cat said you talked to Destiny and had some information for me.”

“You’re talking about Gail?”

“They’re one and the same,” I said.

“She was here last night and again this morning. Yesterday she wanted to know if she needed to worry about someone named Frankie. Today, you were all she could talk about. She claims you stole something from her and she wanted to know if you were going to return what you took.”

“What did you tell her?”

Elvis leaned forward and made a sad attempt to smile. “I told her the truth, Wes. I said you couldn’t give them back.”

“Why would you tell her that?”

“It is true, isn’t it? You did give the diamonds to the police, right?”

I felt a tingling along the back of my neck, like a poisonous spider had bitten me and the venom was spreading. There was no way he could know about the diamonds. I was afraid that if Destiny knew I didn’t have them, she would hurt or even kill Tanya.

“You told her that?”

Elvis shook his head. “No. I did tell her she should stay away from you, and that she wasn’t going to get the diamonds back. I assumed they were diamonds, since that’s what you asked me about yesterday.”

“She took a friend of mine hostage. Told me she’ll kill her if I don’t hand over the diamonds.” I felt defeated.

“And you don’t have them to give,” Elvis said.

“You and your bullshit are going to get my friend killed.”

“Your friend will be fine,” Elvis said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice. “She’s not the one who’s going to die.”

I jumped up, rested my hands on the desk and leaned in toward Elvis. “This is a bunch of crap and I’m tired of your spiel. It doesn’t work on me, but your interference is going to get someone hurt or maybe killed. You’re in way over your head, Elvis.”

“I’m not interfering, Wes. I’m trying to help. I wanted to let you know what’s going on. The last thing Gail said when she left this morning was that she’s going to kill you. Just so you know, you don’t have to worry about anything either.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“You’re good at what you do, Wes. You shouldn’t try to run away from it. And the trouble with your mother will work itself out.”

Again, the imaginary venom was inching its way down my spine. For a moment I wavered and wondered if there was something more to Elvis than I was willing to admit. I shook off my doubts.

“If I were a gambling man,” I said, “I’d bet Tanya told Destiny about my mother and Destiny told you.”

Elvis shook his head. “Celine was back in my dreams last night. She told me about your mother. Celine feels as responsible for your quitting your job, as you feel for her getting killed.”

“I’m
outta
here, Elvis. This is nonsense. Everything you’ve said, you could have found out by doing a little research.”

“Why would I bother?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you want something from me.”

“I do. I want you to find out what really happened to Celine.”

I started toward the door. “Well if that’s the case, you can rest assured. I made arrangements with my mother to put an investigator onto Myron Stewart. I still don’t believe a thing you’ve told me. When I can prove you wrong, I’ll be back to rub it in your face.”

“And if I’m right?”

 
I reached out and pushed open the door. “When that happens I’ll apologize.”

“There is one more thing, Wes.”

“Why am I not surprised?"

“If it’s any consolation, I can assure you that you won’t go back to working for your mother. But you can’t quit being what you are, and you’re a damn good investigator. I’d like you to come to work for me. Sometimes, like with Celine, I see things. The police are almost as skeptical as you are and I need someone to gather hard evidence before I go to them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, not quite believing what he was suggesting. He stared back at me with those dark, tired eyes and waited for my response. A part of me almost wanted to believe in him. Right then I realized that if he could make me feel this way, he must have nearly complete control over those who believed in psychics.

“I don’t want to be a detective,” I said.

“Is that true, or is the truth that you don’t want to work for your mother?”

It was a disturbing question, one I’d asked myself more than once. It was also a question to which I didn’t have an answer. I ignored it and left the office. As I pulled the door closed behind me, he added, “Come see me when you find Celine’s body. You may be able to keep a more open mind at that time.”

***

By nine that evening Destiny still hadn’t called. I paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living room of Tanya’s house. The wait gave me time to think about my conversation with Elvis. Maybe it was the mood I was in, maybe it was the anxieties of waiting for the call, but I began to wonder how Elvis came by his information. I suspected he had other detectives working for him, gathering information on me as well as other prospective clients. If so, his con game was much more organized than I’d imagined.

I might have gone on all night wondering about it, but my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, and was irritated when a male voice said, “Mister Darling?”

“I’m waiting for a call, Dom. I can’t talk right now.”

“Please Mister Darling.” Dom coughed, and his voice took on a strained quality when he continued. “I think they’re going to hurt Mister Elvis.”

“Who are they, Dom? You need to calm down and be a little clearer on what you’re saying.”

“It’s the girl you were asking about. Mister Elvis called her Gail, but the guy she’s with kept calling her Destiny. Mister Elvis told me that if she showed up I was to call you.”

“Was there another girl with them?” I asked.

“Yes sir. I don’t know her name, but her hands were tied behind her back.”

“I’m on my way.” I headed for the door, talking as I ran. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the living room, locked in a closet.”

“You stay put. Don’t even try to get out until I get there,” I said. “I’d rather not get the police involved right now.”

“Good. The man said if anyone tried to call the police, he’d kill all of us. I believe him. He has a gun and he forced me into the closet, then he hit me on the head with his gun. I pretended to be knocked out. That’s when he locked me in, but he didn’t check to see if I had a phone. I couldn’t think of anyone else to call. I could break out easy enough, but I’m afraid if I do he’ll kill Mister Elvis.”

“Hold on a sec.” I hurried across the porch and grabbed Tanya’s pink bicycle. It was tucked into the corner of the porch and unlocked, so I carried it down the steps and out the gate. I climbed on board and began to pedal the bike before lifting the phone back to my ear.

“Is there a gun in the house?” I asked.

“Mister Elvis keeps three antique pistols in a display case in the library. They wouldn’t be loaded, and I don’t know if they can still shoot.”

Great, I thought. I peddled furiously down the street and wondered what I was going to do when I got there. I was unarmed, and every instinct told me to contact the police. But my thoughts turned to what had happened to Celine, and I couldn’t bring myself to make the call.

I slowed to allow a pedestrian to cross in front of me before turning onto Eaton. Traffic was light. No one seemed to notice when I jumped off the bike and leaned it against a fence two doors down from Elvis’s house. If someone wanted to steal the damn thing, I wasn’t going to worry about it.

I lifted the phone to my ear. “You still there, Dom?”

“Yes sir.”

“How do I get inside?”

“I could break out and let you in the front door.”

“They’ll hear you,” I said. “Is there another way in?”

“The side door facing Duval leads to Mister Elvis’s library, but you have to walk past the windows in the office. I think they’re all in there, at least I haven’t heard anyone walking around the house since I got locked in here. The blinds might be shut, but I usually do that and I never had time to close them.”

“Is the door locked?”

“It’s always locked at night. But we keep a spare key. It’s hidden in the pot holding the cactus. When you face the steps it’s on a stand to your right. Reach behind the cactus and the key is pushed into the dirt right along the edge of the pot.”

“What will I find once I’m inside?”

“You’ll be in the library. The door on the right leads to a hall. The one on the left leads to Elvis’s office. That’s where you met with him.”

“You sure you’re okay, Dom?”
“I’m fine.”

“I’m going to hang up and turn off my phone so you won’t be able to call me,” I said. I glanced at my watch. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then start yelling and pounding on the door. I’m hoping the noise will split them up before I try anything. But whatever you do, if someone comes to the door and tells you to be quiet, listen to them. I don’t want you getting hurt. Understand?”

I waited for Dom’s “Yes Sir,” closed the phone, and slipped it into my pocket before moving over to the gate.

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