Remote Consequences (25 page)

"Wait…" I shot out my hand in a palm-up motion.

I looked around. What could I do? I just knew that Hussy Harlow would be here at the club this morning. It was brunch time and she'd be here—sucking up to Millbrook's elite and covering her latest crimes. "I'll get you the money, I swear. I just really need to get in there right now."

He shook his head. "Nope. I know how you young kids are these days. Full of promises and you never follow through. That's what's wrong with this whole new generation."

"I'm not a young kid—I'm twenty-eight years old."

He gave me an I-was-born-in-the-morning-but-not-this-morning face.

The beep of a horn drew our attention behind us. There sat a work truck trying to get through the entrance.

"We've gotta move now. I'll run you back to the house."

"Ahhh…" I yelled out, and jumped from the car. There was no way I was going back home right now. Not until I had it out with the hussy.

"You hold it there, missy." Old Scabby jumped out of the driver's seat a lot faster and smoother than I would have ever guessed he could.

"What seems to be the trouble here?"

We both turned to look at the driver of the truck we were blocking. There was the kind face of the groundskeeper for the club. I smiled, and his face lit up with recognition.

"Hi, Rigo."

"It is the cable girl, no?"

I couldn't help but grin at him. He was a sight for sore eyes.

"Yes. I need to pay Mr. Hollon here, but I seem to have forgotten my purse. My sister has been in a little accident and, well, I need to see someone…" It sounded kind of lame to my own ears.

 "What can I do to help?" The words were like music to my ears. Finally, someone wanted to help me—no questions asked.

"She owes me $19.50."

Rigo shrugged and reached into his pants pocket, extracting an old, beaten-up wallet. He pulled out a twenty and handed it to Scabby. Scabby grunted in return and got back into the car.

"Thank you, Rigo."

"Hop in the truck, I'll drive you to the main building." I did as he asked and got in, then he backed up—allowing the Oldsmobile to make its departure with a full fifty-cent tip in hand.

We made the ride to the main building and around the back to the service entrance in silence. After he parked, he turned to look at me.

"I don't make it my business to get involved in other people's business, but…I'm not sure if you want to go in there right now."

I couldn't stop myself from blushing. Here was this displaced hurricane survivor, and he actually felt bad for me.

"Rigo. I owe you."

He shrugged. "Twenty dollars is just twenty dollars. You seem to need something much more. What can I do to help you, miss?"

My eyes teared up. Dang these eyes. They kept threatening to cry, and I didn't have time for that.

"Someone is messing with my life. No, no…they've completely wrecked my life—what little life I actually had in the first place. I've lost my job, my life's dream, and they've had me arrested." His eyes softened as he took in my expression. I continued, "And now, some two-bit hussy named Allyson Harlow has made it known to me that she's involved in all of this by hurting my sweet, innocent sister—she kidnapped her from the school and she was lost for most of the night."

His eyes widened. "Have you told all of this to the police?"

I let out a little bark of laughter, but there were tears behind it. I swallowed them down. "The police think I'm crazy. That I've made false reports. And what's worse, some of them may be involved in the whole thing. Of course it's not true—I'm just being used as the scapegoat to protect the mayor for murder."

"Mayor Mills killed someone?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. I thought so, but there are so many suspects and I'm not sure how to iron all this out."

He shrugged. Poor Rigo. I was pouring all this mess out on him, and he was trying his best to make sense of it. That made two of us.

"So, what now? You go in there and confront Ms. Harlow? While she's in there with her boyfriend?"

"Her boyfriend?" My blood ran hot, then cold. Was Ty actually in there with her right now? Or was it Officer Chubby? Who could keep up with all her conquests these days?

"Yes. Uh, the young Mills—I think his name is Matson? Strange name, but no one asked me."

Matson Mills and Allyson Harlow were a couple? My brain tried to connect the dots. The dots. The dots. The polka-dot hussy. Things were starting to become clear. Images popped up in my head one by one like a computer without a good ad blocker.

"Are you sure, Rigo? Mayor Mills' son and Allyson are a couple?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yes, they've been flirting on the tennis courts and in the clubhouse. I don't like it. It is not respectful to the facility. I saw her…" He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. "She goes topless into the men's steam room this one day, and I saw them together. I thought about telling my boss, but you learn that the less you see the better."

It was
her
perfume. I'd smelled it on Matson when he'd pretended to be the waiter. I just hadn't put her together with him.

Rigo's words were suddenly making me feel better. His calming demeanor made me realize that confronting Allyson was not my best course of action right now. There were more people involved than I thought. Just like Colin said, it was a web of connections and conspiracies. And if there was one thing I'd learned in med school, it was how solve a difficult problem.

We did something call a co-lab. It was all about collaboration—we'd all gather together and bring what we knew to the table and work to solve a complex problem.

Put them all together in the beauty shop and let them hash it out together.

That was what Sundae had suggested, and that was what we needed now. Excitedly, I turned to Rigo and grabbed his arm. He jumped in surprise.

"Rigo, could I bother you for one more favor?"

Reputations last longer than lives. –Irish Proverb

A couple of hours later, Rigo dropped me off at The Back Porch Café. I couldn't help but think that it was kind of like a scene in a movie where everyone stops eating and talking and all eyes are on you. I stood there, frozen in time, and everyone stared back—in silence.

Of course, maybe I was just imagining that. My brain was full of everything that I'd spent planning for the last two hours while Rigo had allowed me to use his office, his phone, and his landscaping dry-erase board. After all, every good co-lab needed a board for brainstorming, and I'd drawn a dozy.

Then my train of thought was derailed as Ms. Maimie Rogers approached me, wearing a pair of gold, glittery pumps and a smile. "Come on, now. Let's seat you over here, sweetie. I have you all set up in this booth."

I watched her feet as I allowed her to lead me to the first booth on the right, and she sat me down with care. Those shiny glitter-embossed gold pumps were something to behold. You could take a girl out of Vegas, but you couldn't take the Vegas out of a showgirl—or a sixty-something-year-old woman, as the case may be.

"What can I get you to eat, shug?"

"Just water, please."

She took a step back and put her right hand over her heart. "Okay, now. I know I'm getting older, but I swear Dr. C. hasn't said a word about my hearing going bad. Did you just say…water?"

I smiled at her—weakly. I was nervous, and my rare lack of appetite became evident when I was at my absolute peak of apprehensiveness. Even then, it was a rare occurrence. "Yes, ma'am, I need to get this behind me, and then I'll feel better."

"Well, all right then." She took a step back and looked as if she wanted to say more, but the bell over the front door jingled and drew her attention that way.

Colin Brooks walked in, and now all eyes were on him. But as soon as he caught my eye, Ms. Maimie made herself scarce and he took the seat across from me.

Colin had asked me to meet him here at noon and here he was—right on time.

"Are you okay?" He reached across the table and took my hands gently in his. I'd be lying if I didn't say that his touch did wonders for both my tired body and my current state of nerves. So much so that a tinge of appetite began surfacing in the form of my stomach emitting a very loud growl.

He smiled, and I bit my lip. Keeping secrets. This had never been my strong point, and I was about to give it all away with the look on my face. This man was no dummy, and he'd figure out my plan before I could count to ten if I didn't keep myself under control. And everything had to go as planned—or this crap storm that I called life would never get back in order.

"Anyway, I was able to question Paget earlier this morning. She didn't know the woman who took her from school, but she did have this, and I haven't shown the police yet." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the polka-dotted scarf. I pushed it across the table, and he examined it.

"And you know who this belongs to?"

"Yes, and I've figured out part of the reason why they did it. You see, when we made our list of suspects last night, we just didn't have enough information to put together all the connections between the suspects. Then today, I found out that two of our suspects were in a relationship, and that was the thing that helped me to start connecting the dots."

"Who was it?"

"Well, we had thought that someone was involved in this who was deliberately trying to involve me. But we couldn't figure out who, or why anyone would want to get me involved specifically. I mean, I only accidentally found the body. I shouldn't have had anything else to do with this. Why me?"

The bell sounded over the door, and I broke my focus on Colin to look up. He didn't turn around, but I saw his jaw clench ever so slightly. It was almost as if he knew who was going to come walking through that door next.

Ty Dempsey strode into the café and made his way to our booth. He slid in next to me, and I was left momentarily speechless by the face-to-face meeting of Colin and Ty. No one spoke.

I caught sight of a waitress as she began her approach to our table, and I opened my mouth to warn her off. But before I could utter a word, Ms. Maimie swooped in and guided her away. I stifled a smile.

"Colin Brooks, I presume?"

Colin sat back in the seat and stretched his legs forward. His jean-clad calf made contact with my leg under the table, and my breath caught in my throat. He tapped his fingers on the surface of the table, but otherwise made no response or comment to Ty's question. But his non-verbal answer spoke volumes.

"I don't know what kind of little games you've been playing, but I know that you won't be leaving my jurisdiction without answering some questions."

I watched Ty. He exuded a confidence I hadn't seen since many years ago. It was the kind of confidence that could make a girl give in to almost, well…to almost anything.

"I'm pretty sure I'll come and go as I please. There are no charges against me and you can't hold me here." Colin's voice jolted me out of a short detour to fantasyland. He used a completely different tone when talking to Ty. I almost didn't recognize it—and it sort of gave me chill bumps.

"Hold on. Hold on. Boys…we have a lot of things to discuss, and let's not get into a mine's-bigger-than-yours scenario quite yet."

They both turned to look at me. Okay, so maybe it was just me who was seeing that scenario play out in my mind.

Ty broke the awkward silence. "What you are doing with Allyson's scarf? You didn't go and do something crazy, did you?"

All three of us looked down at the scarf. I hadn't revealed its owner's identity yet to Colin, but I watched his face as he took in the information. His eyebrows shot up a notch as he watched my face for a reaction.

"No. No dead Allyson. Of course, the day is still young." My voice was wistful even to my own ears. I despised the woman.

Ty cleared his throat. He knew every reason why I had it out for her.

As if on a stage director's cue, Allyson Harlow arrived wearing her signature polka dots, but this time donning a pale pink polka-dotted halter-top, white tennis skirt, and a white sunhat with matching pink scarf tied around it. She sauntered into the café, her Dooney & Bourke bag dangling mid forearm as she removed her sunglasses and surveyed the room.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colin slide the scarf off the table and out of sight.

But all other eyes were on Allyson—as was usually the case.

Her gaze focused in on Ty, and her mouth formed a wide, plump-lipped upward curve. Then she caught sight of me next to him and her expression shifted to a tight-lipped fury. She teetered over and ran her tongue over too-white teeth as she thrust her bosom forward and studied Colin. With no lack of interest, she grinned at him. I got more than a little thrill out of the fact that he didn't seem to return her interest. Score one for Colin.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure…" she said, addressing Colin, and held out her hand toward him.

Does anyone really say that anymore?

He stared down at her hand, but didn't take the bait. "No, you haven't," was his only reply.

Score two for my secret agent. Internally, I was screaming with delight and cheering on a silent victory. Maybe there was one man in this town who wasn't easily manipulated by Ms. Harlot and her double Ds.

She gave a sultry smirk and seemed to be calculating how to approach the meeting already in progress. So she decided to start with what she did best—attacking me.

"So, when you phoned me, Mandy, you indicated that you had something that belonged to me." She gestured to Ty. "I didn't know you meant
my
boyfriend."

"I'm not—" Ty started to rebut her statement, but she interrupted.

"Well, I don't know if you'd call it a real boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. More like just sex, sex, and more sex."

My face heated up like sun on a vinyl car seat, and I couldn't stop my treacherous head from snapping around accusingly at Ty.

He had the good graces to look embarrassed by her declaration. "It was just that one time, Allyson."