Pretty Dangerous (30 page)

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Authors: Lynn Emery

Tags: #'murder mystery, #southern mystery, #female sleuth mystery series, #louisiana mystery, #cozy crime mystery, #mystery amateur sleuths'

BOOK: Pretty Dangerous
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“Exit 223 A-B, that’s it,” she said.

“I see it,” Willa clipped back and smoothly
changed lanes.

Ten minutes later she turned on Airline
Highway. The Days Inn sign glowed high up lighting the way. She
maneuvered the Honda Pilot onto the driveway and into a parking
space between two minivans.

Willa turned off the engine. “Okay let’s go
over it one more time.”

“Aw hell Willa, stop being so OCD,” Jazz
blurted out and fell against the seat back with a huff of
annoyance.

“Excuse me Miss Action Figure, but this isn’t
a video game. We’re not going to go busting up in there. Now tell
me again what she said. Go on MiMi.”

“Oh Lord, if it will make you feel better.
Jack somehow got a lot of money out of the country. The money was
in the Dominican Republic first, maybe seven years ago. That was
just when the DR government tightened up banking laws under
pressure from the United States.” MiMi tapped on the dashboard
clock as a prompt they needed to move.

Willa ignored the hint. “Sounds really thin
to me.”

“Then we’ll fill in the blanks after I talk
to her,” MiMi snapped, her patience at an end. She pulled on the
door handle. Locked.

Jazz tried to open her door as well. “You’ve
got to be joking. Open these damn doors.”

“I was hoping you’d both get some sense
during the ride here. Look, we’re pretty sure this Villa woman is
too scared to leave. We can make sure by sitting on her until then.
We can call Don...”

“No,” MiMi broke in.

“And he’ll get in touch with the local police
and those FBI agents will get here in no time,” Willa
continued.

“Drake and Forrester will say Don knew all
along. They might even accuse him of being dirty. Is that what you
want you? We don’t repay our friends by getting them in trouble?”
Jazz snapped.

“Jazz is right, Willa. I don’t see a way of
involving him at this stage. Unlock the doors.” MiMi rattled the
handle.

“Call the FBI guy, you’ve got his card. Tell
him you’re scared and want to talk. Then he can make the decision
to call Drake and Forrester. That leaves Don out of it,” Willa
argued.

“Open the fuckin’ damn doors, Willa,” Jazz
hissed at her. She reached across Willa for the lock switch.

Willa blocked the move and pushed Jazz back.
“Get off. Look, Nairoby can talk when the FBI or police are
interviewing her.”

“Now who’s crazy? We’ve got almost a million
in cash on the line. The feds will swoop down and get our money
before she finishes her last sentence.” Jazz’s eyes narrowed to
slits as she stared down her sister.

“You don’t have a claim to any money,” Willa
shot back.

“I think some of Felipe’s stash ended up in
Jack’s hot, greedy hands. So yeah, I’ve got a stake in this,” Jazz
replied. She tried to reach across Willa again but got shoved for
her trouble. “I’m going to--”

“I wish you would,” Willa replied with deadly
calm.

Jazz reached out as if to try for the master
lock again, but instead pinned one of Willa’s arms. Meantime MiMi
tried to take advantage of the distraction to stretch from the
backseat and get at the switch. Willa managed to twist her body
until her butt covered it.

“Get the hell off me,” Willa shouted.

“You’ve finally lost your damn mind.” Jazz
panted the words between tussling with Willa.

MiMi tried to help Jazz pull Willa away their
target. The Pilot rocked as all three grunted, cursed and got
twisted into a human pretzel. Seconds later a loud tapping on the
window startled them. They froze.

“Somebody’s out there,” Willa gasped.

“Step out of the vehicle,” a female voice
ordered.

“You were supposed to make sure we weren’t
followed,” MiMi whispered harshly at Jazz.

“I did,” Jazz whispered back. “Can’t see, the
windows fogged up.”

“Step out with your hands first please.
Everybody exit on the driver’s side. Now!” A male voice
shouted.

“Shit, now you’ve done it, Willa. Thanks for
getting us arrested.” Jazz mumbled a few cuss words. Then she spoke
loud. “Y’all keep calm, we’re coming out.”

Willa clicked the locks open. One by one,
with Jazz going first, they slowly opened each door and stuck their
hands up. When they all stood on the pavement they stared at an
older white couple. Dressed in khaki shorts and a plaid shirt, the
man stood with spindly legs spread apart. The woman with him wore a
matching outfit, except her sandals were bright pink.

“What the hell?” Jazz lowered her arms.

A tall black man strode up dressed in a dark
uniform. The short woman behind him wore a white shirt with the
hotel logo embroidered on it. She stood well to the side as if
ready to let him take any bullets.

“Hotel security. What’s going on out here?”
the man barked. He glanced from the white couple to MiMi and
company.

“I’m Fred Watkins and this is my wife Irma.
We’re retired sheriff’s deputies Hancock County Indiana. We’re here
on vacation,” the man said in an officious and brisk tone.

“Yes, sir. We observed these three acting
suspicious. Then they started a ruckus in this vehicle, maybe
arguing over drugs,” Irma said with a sharp nod of her head. “NOPD
should probably bring a drug dog out.”

“Don’t listen to Homer and Marge Simpson,”
Jazz spat as she jerked a thumb at the couple. “We’re minding our
own business, visiting a friend in town.”

“That’s right, sir. She’s registered at this
hotel. Check it out.” Willa put in.

“They were fighting in there, officer. Or
doing something else. Look to see if a man is in there pulling up
his pants,” Irma said with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, we’re not prostitutes. You’ve got a lot
of nerve, and by the way you’re not even cops anymore. Mind your
own business,” MiMi yelled.

“Even if you were, you’re out of your
jurisdiction,” Willa added.

“Everybody just calm down. Lana, go check on
this guest they claim to be visiting. Name of...” The guard looked
at Willa.

“Her name is Nairoby Villa,” Willa said
calmly.

“I’ll send Ray out here just in case,” Lana
said to the guard before hurrying to the lobby entrance.

“What’s your name, sir?” Jazz smiled at
him.

“Terrell Jackson. Move away from the vehicle
everybody.” Terrell held up a hand when Fred took a step to follow
him. “Everybody includes you, too.”

“Sure. Just trying to help,” Fred said with a
nod. He went back to stand next to his wife. Still both of them
craned their necks to watch him.

The security guard shined a flashlight around
the interior of Willa’s Pilot. He sniffed a few times. When a
second man walked up, the guard nodded at him. The man nodded back.
Terrell then climbed into the Pilot for a closer look. A few
minutes later he climbed out.

“You should call the NOPD,” Erma said
again.

“Ma’am, we’re in Kenner, not New Orleans. Did
these ladies try to steal from y’all, or approached you
aggressively?” Terrell looked from Irma to Henry.

“Well, no,” Henry admitted and frowned.
“But...”

“So they were in their SUV and you didn’t
like how they behaved,” Terrell pressed on.

“They were acting suspicious, like they were
in a fight or something,” Erma put in. She glared at Willa, Jazz
and MiMi in turn.

“So you didn’t really know what they were
doing when you ordered them out of their vehicle?” Terrell planted
his beefy fists on his waist.

“We got into a bit of an argument,” Willa
said quickly before Erma or Henry could speak.

“Yeah,” Jazz added. “MiMi wanted to drive,
but she’s had a few drinks. She gets a little hard to deal with.
She grabbed the keys out of the ignition, and I grabbed them back.
Then she tried to get them again.”

 

Lana returned. “Ms. Villa checked in two days
ago. I asked was she expecting anyone and she said yes, a business
associate.”

The guard turned back to Willa, MiMi and
Jazz. “You said y’all were friends.”

“We became friends after doing business
together, sir,” MiMi replied. She blinked as if genuinely confused.
“Is that a crime?”

“Sounds fishy, like they’re thinking up a
story on the fly, officer,” Henry piped up as Erma bobbed her head
in agreement.

“I’m not an officer. Hotel security doesn’t
have rank, mister,” Terrell said. “Look, bottom line is these
ladies didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sounds like some party girls out for a good
time,” Ray replied with a grin at them.

“Too bad you’re working, Ray,” Jazz said and
winked at him.

“If there’s nothing going on, then you should
get back to the desk,” Lana said sharply as she glared at him.

“Sure. Call me if you need anything at all,”
Ray said, his gaze on Jazz’s full breasts outlined by the knit
shirt that clung to her figure.

Terrell let out a sigh as he watched the
slender young man stroll off. “Look folks, they didn’t do anything
to y’all, and neither of you saw them do anything that might be
illegal.”

“Coming to a hotel isn’t against the law in
Louisiana. Maybe they do things different in Hicksville County
Indiana,” Jazz drawled and leaned against the Pilot.

“Yes, we were minding our own business. You
might want to try it,” MiMi quipped.

Irma squinted at Jazz, and then swept a
critical glance at MiMi and Willa. “You’re going to find yourselves
in trouble real soon. I can tell.”

Terrell held up a palm. “Okay, okay, let’s
all try to get along. Ladies, be careful and have a good night. Mr.
and Mrs. Watkins, anything else I can do for y’all?”

Henry wore a frown for a few seconds before
he shook his head once. “No, guess not.”

“Good deal. Now you folks enjoy your stay.
I’ll be glad to suggest some fine places to eat. You going to the
French Quarter this evening?” Terrell transformed from a stern
security professional to a friendly local.

“We have reservations at The Bombay Club,”
Fred replied. He continued to eye Jazz, MiMi and Willa with
skepticism stamped on his pugnacious features.

“That’s a fine jazz club. Y’all have a great
evening, okay?” Terrell managed to herd them away. They ended up at
a large RV parked at the other end of the lot.

Lana cocked her head to one side. “Well? Your
friend is waiting.”

“Hmm, right. I’ll go up and get her. Y’all
wait down here,” MiMi said.

“Okay.” Willa studied the hotel windows
facing the parking lot where they stood.

Jazz stared at Lana. “I think we can take it
from here. We don’t need an escort.”

The hotel manager gave them all a look of
suspicion, but said nothing. She left, but not without glancing
back at them and the security guard. Terrell still stood with Henry
and Erma. MiMi suspected he was arguing that he had no grounds to
call the police. Once Lana entered the automatic glass doors to the
hotel, MiMi spun to face Willa and Jazz.

“I think we’re in luck. The hotel manager
didn’t mention how many of us were here, just asked if Nairoby was
expecting company. Y’all stay put.” MiMi took only a couple of
steps when Willa jerked her back.

“She’s not stupid, MiMi. She’s going to
figure you didn’t come alone,” Willa said.

“Yeah, but her back is against the wall. So
she’s got no choice,” Jazz replied.

“Exactly, we’re all she’s got at the moment.
At this point, I’ll bet she doesn’t care. Nairoby hopes I help her
dodge a police interview. If she tells me about missing money, the
FBI and Baton Rouge detectives will forget about her.” MiMi nodded
eagerly to convince Willa.

“You want us to wind up being suspects with
the feds and the local police over some money?” Willa blurted
out.

“Half a million? Hell yes. I’ve talked my way
out of bigger jams for nothing,” Jazz joked with a laugh.

“Willa, the police are building evidence
against me while we stand here arguing. Let’s at least find out
about the over four hundred thousand dollars Jack finessed out of
the country. I may need it to fund my defense team,” MiMi said,
struggling to keep from shouting or shaking her stubborn pal.

“Okay, fine. Dial my number and keep your
cell phone on speaker. I’ll mute mine so background noises won’t
come through on your end. The minute I hear something funny, we’re
coming in.” Willa pulled out her phone.

“Great idea. See, you were right to come
along with me.” MiMi did as instructed and dropped the phone in the
pocked of her hoodie pullover. “Okay, ready.”

MiMi crossed the parking lot. Despite her
show of bravery, her stomach knotted the closer she got to the
hotel entrance. Lana and Ray stood at the desk, both watching as
she entered. MiMi gave them what she hoped was a carefree smile.
Lana simply raised a dark eyebrow in response, but Ray winked at
her.

“Room 302,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks.”

Once she got past them, MiMi glanced around
to get familiar with the layout. A hallway lead branched off from
the lobby to another glass door to the parking. A sign said it was
locked at night for the safety of guests.

“Hey y’all, come to the north side of the
building. You’ll see a big green exit sign. I’ll let you in,” MiMi
said quietly into the phone.

Five minutes later Willa and Jazz appeared at
the door. MiMi let them in, careful to open the door slowly in case
it made noise. She eased it closed again. The click seemed as loud
as July fourth fireworks. All three scurried to conceal themselves
around another corner, but no one came to investigate.

“We’ll take the stairs and wait on the
landing. That way we’ll be close if something goes wrong,” Jazz
said.

“Right.” Willa nodded though her expression
implied she wished they were far away.

“You act like you’ve done this before,” MiMi
said as she texted Nairoby she’d be at the door soon.

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