Trevar's Team 1 Read online

  “Rachel must still be out with the guru. How’d you like Helene?” Summer questioned.

  “Scam artist, but I understand why the attraction. Why Rachel seems to be intrigued. Helene has a very sharp mind. That appeals to Rachel. But it seems to be a platonic relationship. Almost.” I tried to analyze it. “It’s as if Rachel is seeing Helene as a sister stand-in. They can talk about philosophy. Just like she used to talk with her own sister.”

  “I just hope Rachel finds happiness. She deserves it. Her past sucks,” Summer said with great sadness. “Rachel’s own sister is a victim, and the man who did it is walking free. No wonder Rach always half spit’s the words when she’s talking about justice.”

  “I get why she’s contemptuous of my past profession,” I admitted.

  There seemed to be no more to confess. When Summer closed the door, I was again alone. I watched the inky darkness invade my room. There were etched topaz outlines where furniture regressed. A dappling of moonlight exacted thoughts of doubt I was having.

  I doubted my adequacy. Although Lilia was a star, she had told me she cares for me. Perhaps if I were to solve the murder, I would be worthy of her. With that thought, a warm fantasy began. Love with Lilia would be radiant. We would know our erogenous zones by heart. Our snug fit would mutually synchronize.

  Admittedly, I craved her more than I had ever desired any other woman. The sweet fragrance of her, the chant of her love songs, and the inspired smile of perfection had become my reason. My own raspy voice whispered true devotion when saying her name. I tightly wrapped the pillow within my hug. I wondered if my heart was actually unlatching.

  Pluma was making her own astute observations on love. “Fuck it all, sister,” she squawked. Her headdress bristled. Mine, too. The ‘parrot stew’ warning was no longer intimidating to her. I did ask her to be quiet.

  I had hopes that I might dream. And that the dream of Lilia would convert to reality. Dreams could offer love a high shine. I acknowledged love might exist after all. Even total solace seemed to be a love song I’d never before experienced.

  6

  GETTING INVESTED IN a murder case often becomes more dangerous as the time ticks on. That was part of the liability warning listed on the profession’s label. It was the reason I spooked when hearing any echoing pop. An Uzi on full automatic sounded a lot like a car’s repeated backfiring. Drug dealers relied on their arsenal. Minesweepers could cut down a battalion. Our meager detective trio posed a very minor threat. Even if we responded in lightning time, even if each round we fired met its mark, even if our best markswoman, Rachel, weren't reluctant to carry her old service revolver, we would have little chance of survival if we were targeted.

  The team also had memorized the gumshoe anthem. We knew it by heart—death knows where to find us. Challenging one of Florida’s most infamous dealing mobs probably was testing the anthem. Cruz and her gang didn’t take prisoners. I had reminded Summer of that when the three of us were gathered around the deck. It was an informal early morning confab. We stretched leisurely against the ecru canvas sling deck chairs.

  “Hey, why shouldn’t we all go to a beach party? Deb and her group won’t give us trouble,” Summer optimistically argued. “They also won’t trust me enough to give up information.”

  “I agree we could use some clues. We’re getting nowhere,” Rachel cautiously inserted. “But are you sure it’s wise for the three of us to be on the same beach as the Cruz gang?”

  “Hey, it’s a public beach. And you know the annual Bliss Beach Bonanza will be jammed with lovely lesbians. So why not attend?” Summer asked.

  Sipping the sweet-tart ingredients of a frosted Floradora Cooler, I tasted the grenadine and lime. I prided myself on an accurate palate.

  After another sip, I stated, “An evening at the ‘peach and beach’ party on a North West Palm shore sounds terrific. And Summer, we know you want to attend because Debra said she’d be there. Although it might be fun, it could antagonize Cruz.”

  “You two are going to become old growlers if you don’t get out more,” Summer chided.

  I reminded her as I touched my wounded cheek, “My face still has an eggplant glow.”

  “Try a pallet knife with lots of makeup stacked on it,” Summer bantered.

  Rachel joined in with Summer’s laughter. I refrained for as long as I could and then gave a quick, supportive laugh. “I’ll need a trowel. Okay, why not. Nothing else seems to be working. We’re drawing blanks.”

  “No one wants to talk about the crime,” Rachel’s voice was hardened with disgust. “Powers has warned everyone to button up. I’m having difficulty getting information. And Helene is very, very adept at keeping the conversation on her own agenda.”

  “She would be,” I remarked. “Well, something is bound to break. Let’s keep the pressure on. Maybe we can get a reading on our prime suspects by attending the party tonight.”

  With a serious glower, Summer quickly corrected me. “I don’t consider Deb to be any more of a prime suspect than Jeremy, Helene, or Lilia.”

  “We can meet at about eight o’clock.” I ended the conversation. “Now, I’m going to get my day started by paying calls on a few of my underworld contacts.”

  “That ought to take months.” Rachel’s words were swords. “Even my stoolies don’t measure up to your past clients when it comes to the dirtball category.”

  “I’m going to ignore that, Rach,” I said with a grimace. “For this evening’s gala, I’ll fix us up a wonderful little picnic hamper filled with delicacies guaranteed to sweeten you up.”

  “Beryl, if you prepare anything that conflict’s with my bikini image,” Rachel warned with a chuckle, “I’ll really show you my acerbic side.”

  I stood, grabbing my laptop. “Rach, you couldn’t look bad in a bikini if you wore the pieces backward, upside down, inside out, and covering only your feet.”

  I’d been picked apart by both of my partners when the day started. The remainder of the day hadn’t gone any better. I searched out several of my confidential informants. No one knew a thing. I made all the contacts I could and finally abandoned the effort. By that time, it was time for putting together some goodies for the fiesta.

  I got so wrapped up cooking, I failed to watch the clock until the last minute. I packed everything, and then Rachel and I drove to West Palm.

  The community soiree was in full swing when we arrived. We found a place on the beach and spread our towels. After we’d unloaded the picnic hamper, and opened the cooler, we relaxed and munched. Summer planned to meet us there after what she reported being an afternoon of dumpster diving out on the streets. She had taken her motorcycle into one of West Palms most crime-ridden areas. I hated to see her go alone, but she claimed that I only hindered her investigatory skills.

  On the beach, music with a rumba beat blared. I glanced at my wristwatch. “Summer’s half an hour late.”

  “Try your cell,” Rachel suggested.

  I quickly phoned the yacht. There was no answer. Then I tried Summer’s phone. “Nothing,” I reported.

  “She’s probably on her way. You know how she feels about people driving and yakking at the same time.”

  “Rach, I have a miserable feeling.” It became more miserable when I saw Debra Grant across the beach. She was alone. “You don’t suppose her pals are messing with Summer?”

  “No. In fact, here they come now.”

  “But they weren’t with Deb. That concerns me. I’d better drive back and check things out.” I tucked my phone into my over blouse’s pocket.

  I sped down the highway, gunning my Firebird’s engine. As I drove, I carefully watched both sides of the road in case Summer had encountered engine trouble. Rounding the curve, my suspicion was realized. Summer was at the road’s edge staggering up an embankment. Her body was hunched in pain. Her face was caked in crimson.

  Rapidly, I pulled the car over to the side. Tires squealed as the Firebird stopped. My sprint to Summer’s side w
as brisk. “What happened?”

  She pulled away from my grasp. “My cycle is totaled.” Her eyes clouded. She always prided her bike. She even named it ‘Little Priscilla’ after Gert Stein’s vintage auto.

  I eased her into the bucket seat. Digging through the glove compartment, I retrieved a first aid kit. A square dressing was held against her forehead. It stopped the ribbon of blood that had been careening down her face. “Let’s get you to the emergency room.”

  “Naw. I’m going after Cruz and Hammer.”

  “They’re responsible?”

  “Yeah. And they’re going to pay for it. They ran me off the road. I knew they were following behind me. Then they pulled beside me to crowd me. They tried to kill me.” She winced.

  “Attempted murder. Don’t you see, Summer, they have it in them to kill. They might have murdered Sylvia.”

  “Those two might have, but Deb wasn’t in on it.”

  “Someone had to get them security clearance onto Sylvia’s property. Just like someone told them that you’d be attending the Bliss Beach party.”

  “Deb claims they listen in on her calls.”

  My facial shrug was neutral. “I don’t trust any of them.”

  “Deb is beginning to care for me,” Summer announced as she looked away.

  After starting my engine, my car glided onto the highway. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with Summer about going for medical treatment. She was resolute. I’d keep an eye on her. “In the morning, you should see a doctor.”

  “I’m fine, but Priscilla is lost. That cycle was like a friend.”

  “I felt that way when I sold my Lamborghini. But now I love my Firebird. I promise you’ll have a new bike by day’s end tomorrow. I’ve never broken a promise to you.”

  “That’s why I trust you.”

  Her face was pale as a desert bone. I commiserated over her loss. “Poor Priscilla. She gave you the best she had—clear to the end.”

  “Cruz and Hammer have a lot to answer for.”

  “Not just now. Keep a tally of their crap. We’ll get them later,” I vowed as the car rolled into the parking lot.

  We made our way to where Rachel was waiting. She quickly wrapped Summer in her embrace. “What happened?” she asked.

  “Cruz and Hammer ran her off the road. Left her for dead,” I explained.

  Anger flooded Rachel’s expression. She then locked her emotion. “I’ve been keeping them under surveillance. Nothing to report.”

  “I’m taking a dip in the ocean to clean up,” Summer said defiantly. “And if those two come after me, I’ll be feisty as a shark.”

  Rachel looked at me. Her eyebrow lifted. “Shark!”

  “Don’t say it, Rach,” I joked. “I’m not a shark anymore. And, Summer, just use the shower by the pier. You’ve got enough blood on you to entice a school of sharks. And the salty water will sting like hell.”

  Through her pain, Summer tried to smile at my shark joke. She then cringed. Her eyes filled with tears. She slipped out of her tank top and shorts. Beneath was her bikini and body of steel. I watched as she splashed water from the shower area. I noticed Debra was also scrutinizing Summer. “Maybe Summer is right about Deb,” I commented.

  Rachel asked, “You don’t think Deb set Summer up?”

  “I’m not sure. We’ll have a chance to find out, she’s coming our way.”

  Debra was alone when she approached us. Her pals were probably doing a drug deal, I guessed. “What happened to Summer?”

  “Deb, your pals forced her off the road. She might have been killed,” I answered. “But then you already know that because you set her up, didn’t you?”

  “No, I swear I didn’t.”

  “Right! I believe anything a junkie tells me,” I accused.

  Her eyebrow shot upward, and her lips curled. “Where’s your Latina trick?”

  My anger snapped. “What the hell do you have against her? Other than the fact that she and your mother loved one another. Did she ever harm you in any way?”

  Debra’s head lowered. She wanted to change subjects. “Does Summer think I was in on it?”

  “No, she doesn’t believe you’re an accomplice. She cares about you.”

  “I care about her, too.”

  “Why don’t you tell her that,” Rachel recommended.

  “I can’t while Anita Cruz is around. Anita and Hammer are going to Miami later tonight. Will you have Summer call me or come by? I’ll try to explain.”

  I faced Debra with my eyes peering into hers. “I’ll tell her. But if there are any more accidents, I’ll be coming after you. Got it?”

  “I didn’t kill my mother. I didn’t know they were going to hurt Summer. I swear it’s the truth.”

  “Deb, you’re too drugged up to know the truth. So repeat after me, ‘Luck, be a lady tonight.’ Because you’ll need luck if any harm comes to Summer.”

  Debra spun away. She walked toward the smudge of coastline that diminished off into an ocean. Rachel issued a deep sigh before stating, “If she knows anything at all about the murder, she’s a threat to us.”

  “I believe the only thing we can safely assume when it comes to any of the suspects is that there’s murder in someone’s heart. This is a case where no crybabies are allowed. Someone is going to be found guilty and charged with Sylvia Grant’s murder. And it is a capital offense punishable by electrocution. The public outcry will demand the ultimate punishment for the killer of Sylvia Grant. So nobody wants to get caught.”

  “Right,” Rachel assessed. “And they’ll kill again so they won’t get snared.”

  When Summer arrived, we gave her Debra’s message. As both Rachel and I had predicted, Summer went to the Grant Mansion.

  Rachel and I hung around the beach watching Florida’s fine women. We finished the delicious feast I’d packed, toasted with a couple glasses of wine, and then went back to our yacht. Our hearts weren’t into celebration.

  After I’d showered and prepared for bed, my phone rang. It was Lilia. With great anxiety in her voice, she told me she’d been awakened by a sinister, threatening call. She panicked. She went to find the gun where she’d been keeping it in her handbag. It was missing. I asked her if the voice might have been Jeremy. She thought it was, but it was muffled, disguised, and she couldn’t be certain.

  I immediately tossed clothing on. I woke Rachel. I explained I was taking one of the agency’s spare guns from the safe. It would be given to our client—Lilia. I would also tell her to get some target practice in with the new gun. I jotted down the serial number so that we could report the transfer of this firearm to authorities. Rachel said she would report the stolen gun in the morning.

  As fast as my Firebird could drive, I raced to Lilia’s side. Her lovely face was stark, and her eyes were intense with fright. She greeted me with a timid hug. She was dressed in a carnation-pink negligee set. After pouring us each a brandy, she sat beside me on the sofa. Our fingers touched softly when I took the delicate snifter from her hand.

  “Beryl, I’m so terrified. I kept the gun with me through the day. In my handbag.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Only to the attorney’s office. Debra, Helene, and myself—the heirs attended the meeting about Sylvia’s estate. We were to decide if Jeremy should continue as manager of Sylvia’s latest release, and sort the loose ends involved.”

  “What was the decision?” I grilled.

  “Both Debra and I believed he should receive no additional funds. We wished for his services to be terminated. Helene’s vote was to retain Jeremy. She said karma will be his punishment.”

  “Why doesn’t that amaze me?”

  “I believe he will now attempt to kill me for voting against him. I’m frightened.”

  I was seated away from her, but I neared to pat her hand. Her head rested on my shoulder. My fingers ran through her gleaming hair. “Lilia, I won’t let him hurt you.” I restrained myself from showing more emotion. “I’ll protect yo
u.”

  “He frightens me. I believe he killed Sylvia.”

  “Lilia.” There was a moment’s hesitation. “I have a question to ask you. Do you know which room Sylvia was murdered in?”

  Puzzled, she frowned at my question. “Of course, I know.”

  “You do?” My heart stalled.

  “She was murdered in our bedroom. The furniture had been moved slightly. I assume that it was moved so they could clean the area. That is why I cried when I was there.”

  Her answer confirmed her innocence. I recalled tears streaming down her face when she sat on their bed. Now I wondered who had taken her gun, and why. I’d seen her put the gun back into her handbag after the encounter with Jeremy. “Were you alone with either Debra or Helene this morning?”

  “No. Both of them were always near.”

  “Elevator ride maybe. Did one of them brush up against you?”

  “No. In fact, I arrived late. Helene was unwell and left early. Debra stayed behind to inquire about funds for the estate’s property maintenance.”

  Frowning, I commented, “Helene was sick. She must not have taken enough of her energy pills.” I took a final sip from the crystal snifter. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you go and lie down? I’ll stay out here on the sofa.”

  She disputed, “The sofa is not a proper place to rest. Please take the bed, you need a good rest.”

  “This is fine.”

  “Then please at least share the bed with me. It is quite large. And I would feel much safer if you were beside me.”

  I attempted to clear my throat. “I didn’t bring night clothes.”

  “What is it you normally wear?”

  “Nothing,” was my sheepish reply.

  “Then there would have been nothing to bring with you.” She smiled. “I’m certain that you will behave properly. You’ve given me no reason to believe otherwise.”

  We entered the plush bedroom. Lilia slipped off the outer portion of her negligee set. Remaining was a filmy gown. Beneath was Lilia’s magnificent form. She slid between the sheets. Then she dimmed the light. In the darkness, I flung my clothing off and joined her. I stayed as far on my side of the bed as possible. When I fluffed the pillow, I wondered if my arousal would require me to bite a chunk out of my fist.