Deviled!: Lake Erie Mysteries Book 2 (18 page)

T
he boat ride
over to Scorpion Island was uneventful. The misty morning air provided us with an extra element of concealment, Combine that with the fact that our skipper was a trained professional—of some sort—and our morale improved along with our determination to get this job done.

I outlined my scenario on the way over, and June tossed in some good ideas of her own. After a tweak or two from Michael, the plan was in place. With the requisite words of caution and Michael’s promise to be waiting to take us back to the resort in time for the final convention dinner, we stepped ashore without wetting our new cross-trainers.

First stop: Sofia’s dorm room. With the lay of the land still fresh in our minds, we were able to get to the cinder block structure without difficulty. Having a solid plan in place and knowing Michael was nearby went a long way toward making us feel like we would be successful in our mission. We knew the guards focused most of their attention on the main house rather than the dormitories, but we still used all the caution we could muster to arrive unnoticed. We knocked softly, and when there was no answer, entered Sofia’s room with the key Eddie had provided. It didn’t take long to go through the tiny space for a second time and retrieve what we needed.

We had to take turns squeezing inside the tiny bathroom so we could get a look at our handiwork. I was thankful I could only glimpse my somewhat-cloudy reflection from the waist up in the over-the-sink mirror, making it a little easier to face the fact that I was no longer a twenty-something showstopper.

“Why do you get to wear the one-piece dress? I would have doubled my crunches if I knew I was going to be running around with my stomach showing for all to see.”

“Because, Francie, you’re the one who’s spent the last ten years watching YouTube videos on card dealing in your spare time so you could increase Hamm’s odds of winning at the blackjack table when you go to Vegas every winter. You’ve practically made being a card shark your second job so you can reap the rewards of his winnings at the Forum Shops at Caesar’s Palace.”

“Well, there is that.”

“Besides, I wouldn’t exactly call this a dress. I think my backside is showing.”

I gave June the once over. She looked pretty good in the shiny gold scrap of a dress. True, it barely covered her bottom and left her entire back exposed, but she pulled it off, especially with her new hairdo. I, on the other hand, felt like an escapee from an
Alice In Wonderland
nightmare. The Queen of Hearts would just adore my black bra top covered in red-and-black hearts and equally mortifying miniskirt decorated in hearts, spades, diamonds, and clubs—not to mention the headband with two cards sticking up like the ears of a Playboy bunny.

I realized it was now or never. “We better get moving if we’re going to find Sofia and stop Devil’s Island from being taken over by these creeps. I hope the seams on this outfit hold up. Just keep practicing your Russian accent. We don’t want to sound like Natasha from
The Adventures of Rocky and
Bullwinkle if we have to talk to someone.”

I would have to trust our unseen partners to retrieve the personal belongings we had to leave in Sofia’s room. Making our way up the hill toward the main house was more difficult than the last time we did it, seeing as we were now wearing the high heels that went with our new digs. Of course, we knew we couldn’t escape being seen at some point, but I wasn’t looking forward to it. I channeled my inner actress as we passed a group of young men being ordered around by a rough-looking armed guard. Telling myself I was performing a role in a play kept me from thinking about the real-life danger we were walking right into. The scene we approached was surreal as the boys, dressed all in black, took turns aiming their weapons at a target about fifty feet away on the meticulously manicured lawn just in front of the house. These guys were being trained in using high-powered firearms.

It was showtime. We made our approach with artificial confidence. Two serious-looking, rifle-toting men, their uniform pockets stuffed with who-knows-what, stood side by side before the door. It was impossible to miss the intricate scorpion tattooed on the one guard’s bulging forearm, while the other guard’s scorpion seemed eerily alive as it rippled over the veins in his neck when he spoke. “ID cards,” he demanded when we reached the top of the third step.

“Umm . . .” So much for my confidence in our plan. “Gabriel sent us.” My voice sounded foreign to me. My parched throat and fake accent in no way resembled the authentic voice I had practiced.

Neck Tattoo spoke again. “Gabriel did not inform us of any new arrivals today.”

I cleared my throat noisily and plowed forward, praying to Saint Vitus, patron saint of actors, that our cover wouldn’t be blown. “Ve are here to help ze girls. Gabriel thinks our experience vill be good to help train zem. And some are homesick so ve vill be like zere mozhers. He says they vill vork better this way.” I was getting into my role, forgetting the grave reality and concentrating on the performance.

“I see. You are the card girls’ mother,” and looking over to June, maybe a beat longer than his boss would approve, “and you must be the dancing girls’ mother?”

“Yes, exactly.” Was he actually buying our story?

Begrudgingly, he let us through the front door. A third guard was waiting for us inside. His scorpion tattoo wrapped around his wrist, realistic-looking blood dripping from the creature’s poisonous pincers. I winced when he took my elbow to point us in the right direction. “In here, mother. The dealer’s table is in here.”

There was a group of half a dozen young women in the room. Although they were perfectly made-up and beautiful, I couldn’t help comparing them to the silent, shuffling zombies we had encountered at the convention center. There was no life in their eyes.

“Fine. Zank you. You may go now.” I was really feeling this Russian mamma bear thing.” The guy wasn’t quite willing to leave me on my own. He walked over to the far wall, leaned against it, and crossed his arms. It didn’t look like he was planning to go anywhere any time soon.

I picked up a deck of cards and inspected the design on the back. I must say, I was getting tired of seeing scorpions on everything. Giving June a nod, to let her know the performance of our lives was about to begin, I gathered the girls around the dealer’s table and dove right into a full-blown demonstration of amazing card shuffling and dealing. The guard wasn’t bored anymore. He leaned forward then inched closer to watch and finally walked right up to the table, leaving his rifle propped against the wall. One or two of the girls perked up too, snapping out of their stupors. June took advantage of the guard’s distraction and slipped out the door. I hoped I could keep them mesmerized by my amazing skills long enough for her to locate Sofia and get her out of the house.

Loud, exotic music emanated from a room right across the hall. A female voice barked instructions to another group of beauties. There were eighteen or twenty women dressed in a variety of revealing costumes, all with the scorpion logo displayed somewhere. As June joined the students, the instructor gave her no more than a cursory glance, most likely for arriving late, but as long as no one looked too closely, she wouldn’t be discovered as having about twenty years on most of them. The pole dancing lessons I gave her for her last birthday were paying off. She blended right in and had some moves I’m sure none of the others, including the intimidating teacher, had ever seen.

There she was. I saw Sofia right in the middle of the group of dance students. I could only sneak glimpses of her, June, and the others when they crossed my line of sight through the open door, but I managed to witness bits and pieces as they made their way through several choreographed numbers. I had to be careful for fear of breaking my concentration and giving the guard a chance to figure out what was going on. As our plan unfolded, we had no way of knowing which of us would be placed in harm’s way, so we both had to be on high alert at all times and stay in sync if we were to get this done. So far, so good.

I let the girls at my table take turns practicing some basic moves. They weren’t half bad. While they were learning the ins and outs of fancy card dealing, I could keep an eye on June’s progress. She was working her way among the dancers, finally positioning herself at Sofia’s left side. I had to be careful now. I saw June whisper to Sofia as they executed their dance moves. I needed to be ready at any moment to make a move, but above all else, I couldn’t blow my cover.

I cut my demonstration short when a loud bang startled everyone in the room. This was not a golf cart backfiring or a child dipping into his fireworks stash a few hours early. This was a serious boom, and it sounded too close to our location for comfort. A commotion outside the front door got everyone’s attention. Two guards were arguing in Russian, and it sounded like things were being thrown around. This had to be our cue. I gathered my card girls in a tight circle around the table and spoke to them in my best teacher voice.

“This is the most important American card game you’ll ever learn, so pay close attention, girls.”

They were eager students and listened attentively as I explained the simple steps in 52-Card Pickup. Our guard-chaperone was torn between trying to get a look at what was happening outside and keeping a watchful eye on me and my students. I kept my eye on him until his attention was focused on the front door, and then I performed one more flourishing shuffle and let all the cards loose to fly like brightly winged insects in the air around us and float gracefully to the floor. The girls were elated at this ridiculous American game and scrambled about the floor retrieving the cards and squealing in delight. I used the confusion to drop to my knees and crawl to the hallway in front of the dance practice room, where I heard the shrill voices of squealing young women from other areas of the house disturbing the somber quiet.

June was helping Sofia to her feet after she had faked an ankle twist. She ushered the limping Sofia out to the hall while the instructor tried to regain control of her other students.

“Over here, June. I think the coast is clear.” I moved around and crouched low behind them, using their bodies to block the guard’s view in case he’d realized I was no longer in his custody.

Sticking close together, we slipped into the first room we came to. It was a powder room with a window just big enough to squeeze through one at a time above the toilet. June went first. She reached up and guided Sofia’s exit through the tiny opening and onto the grass below. I followed without hesitation. We kept close to the house, using the ornate shrubbery and landscaping as cover as we made our way around the corner to the back side, where we found Michael waiting for us. Nodding once, not saying a word, he led the way back to his boat. Gunner stood at attention in the skiff, guarding a neat pile of our discarded belongings including our sensible shoes and my handbag which now contained the clothes I wore before I transformed into my odd casino dealer/mother hen role.

Michael still hadn’t said anything. Back when I first met him, his taciturn manner had been unnerving, but I was more tuned in to his body language now. The crinkles around his eyes spoke just as loud words. He found our appearance amusing, to say the least. We must have looked like we were on our way to a masquerade party, but at least at a drama and theater convention, people wouldn’t be overly shocked by our appearance.

As we pulled away from Scorpion Island, I could see guards running around like ants, stopping to shield their eyes against the sun and gazing out into the lake. Our ordinary looking skiff flew across the lake, and before the private helicopter had time to take off in our direction, we were once again moored in the marina.

As soon as I stepped onto the dock, I saw something that made my heart race and my palms sweat. After executing our plan so flawlessly, how could we have not accounted for this?

J
une was right behind me
; she had seen it too. “They’re back, Francie. What time is it?”

“I have no idea. It’s not like I had any place to stash my phone in this get-up.”

“I know what you mean.” June tugged at her hemline to no avail.

Hamm and Jack had returned for the final event of the convention—the murder mystery dinner show June and Eddie and I were so excited to help plan just days ago. I didn’t know if they were at the hotel or aboard
Lucky Enough,
which lulled peacefully in its slip. Anyway you looked at it, it wasn’t great news.

Michael spoke before I had a chance to worry over the unexpected appearance of our men. “You better get over to the ballroom where the final event is being presented. Don’t let Gabriel out of your sight.”

“What about Sofia?” I asked. “Should we take her with us? If Gabriel spots her, all hell may break loose.”

“A few things still need to happen out here if you want this case closed and the real guilty party exposed. Sofia will stay back with me. Eddie is getting Sasha up to speed. Go now, and try not to be seen.”

Looking down at my oh-so-not-subtle ensemble, I grabbed June’s hand and we headed for the hotel.

Michael had made it clear we didn’t have time to go back to our rooms to change into our business casuals, so we held our heads high as we walked through the lobby, ignoring the blatant stares and snickers coming from some of the guests. When we got to the ballroom, I cracked open the door to scope out the layout of the room. The final event was already well underway; it looked like the third course of the four-course, sit-down dinner was being served, and everyone’s attention was riveted on the actors playing the roles of the ever-changing suspects. Pencils were poised above tickets to make note of motive, means, and opportunity. There was an impressive prize package to be awarded to the group figuring out the murderer’s identity and other specifics of the crime. No one payed the least bit of attention to us as we slunk into a dark corner in the back of the room and sat at a table out of the emcee’s line of sight.

All the players in the real-life murder mystery were in attendance: Gabriel manned the microphone; Damien and Angelina were sitting at a round table right up front with an empty chair positioned beside each of them; and as luck would have it, the two handsome men rounding out the table for six were none-other than Hamm and Jack. I assumed the two empty chairs were being reserved for me and June.

Detective Reed was seated at the table next to them, looking downright captivating in a jade-color linen pantsuit. Her strawberry-blond hair swept her shoulders as she looked about, scanning the room for someone or something. I did not recognize the four people with her, who could have been hotel guests or conference attendees—or undercover agents, for all I knew.

We settled into our shadowy corner to watch Gabriel work his magic. The dinner guests talked and laughed as they got more and more involved with the interactive presentation. One lady stood up, waving her ticket and squealing in delight as she figured out a connection between two of the actors. Hidden clues were being uncovered with theatrical flourish. Soon the murderer would be revealed.

Amidst the flailing arms and boisterous competition, I saw someone—gender uncertain in the darkened room—approach Detective Reed and lean in close to whisper something in her ear. I swear I saw a package of some sort exchange hands. The detective scanned the room once more and fingered the mysterious delivery in her lap. Her gaze came to rest on the group at the table right beside her. She rose and made her way toward the DeVille’s table.

“June, I think something’s going down.”

“Yeah, I know. We’re about to find out who the murderer is. I wish we could have been here for the whole show. This looks like a lot of fun.”

“I’m sure it is. I’ve been to a number of these. I’ll sign us up for one in the fall. In the meantime, could you pay attention? Reed is talking to Angelina and Damien. They don’t look at all happy.”

Hammond and Jack were getting into the performance, but Reed was ignoring them. She got Angelina and Damien to stand up and was directing them to follow her out of the conference room. Two of the strangers who had been with her at her table stood at their places, unmoving, taking in the scene and making their presence felt.

“We can’t let this happen, June. We’ve got to tell Reed she has the wrong people.”

Just then, we both noticed Gabriel who had ditched his microphone and was slinking toward the nearest door.

“Hey, he’s getting away!” June hopped onto her chair, pointing at Gabriel who was trying to slip unnoticed out the service exit.

The crowd loved it. They clapped and shouted with glee as the lady in the short gold dress pointed at the emcee and proclaimed him the murderer from the back of the room. What a grand finale! If only they knew. I mashed my way through the throng, trying to reach Reed so I could explain that she had the wrong brother in custody. Across the room, participants blocked Gabriel’s way, each one hoping to put the final piece of the puzzle in place and go home with the extravagant prize package.

Bang
!
Bang
! The sound of gunfire brought the crowd to silence in an instance. Gabriel had replaced the discarded mic with a pistol.

The crowd didn’t miss a beat. “The smoking gun! How clever! Bravo!”

The room erupted once more, louder and more excited than before. Prior to dinner being served, there would have been a short presentation outlining the structure and rules of the game. It would have been noted, as was the case in every murder mystery dinner I had attended, that guns and other props would be used to make the experience more authentic. The audience cheered at the great performance.

In my heart, I knew those were not blanks being fired. Reed, of course, had recognized them as well, altering her course in the direction of the gunfire. Angelina and Damien stood at the entrance door June and I had come through still guarded by Reed’s dinner partners. Static crackled through Detective Reed’s radio as she dispatched a call for backup. I was all the way up to the stage area now, close enough to see the look of alarm on my husband’s face and witness Detective Jack Morgan spring into action, lurching toward Gabriel, leaving Hamm alone and stunned at the table. I wanted to throw myself into the safety of his arms, but then I’d have to try and explain why I looked as if a deck of giant playing cards had thrown up on me and stolen half my clothes. I kept quiet and hid behind a chair.

From my vantage point, I could see a young man with blood seeping through the white sleeve of his shirt. Real blood. In a panic, I scanned the room looking for other casualties, but, thank God, I didn’t see any other injured bystanders. Gabriel must have dropped his gun in the crush of humanity vying for their three minutes of fame. I was close enough to see the wild glaze in his eyes. He was trapped in his own game.

By the time Detective Reed reached him, she was joined by four backup policemen as well as Jack, who was standing by in case he could be of assistance.

“Mr. DeVille, calm down. It’s over now.”

Gabriel growled dangerously, but then he seemed to deflate like a reused party balloon.  Gabriel DeVille was taken into custody for inciting panic as well as discharging a firearm illegally, not to mention shooting one of his guests. In the meantime, Angelina and Damien were not being released at the moment. It looked like there would be a DeVille family reunion at the jailhouse tonight.