Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 05 - The Devil's Breath (12 page)

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Authors: Emily Kimelman

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - P.I. and Dog - Miami

“See you soon.”

We hung up and I quickly brushed my teeth and put on my jogging clothing.

Mulberry was waiting for us when Blue and I jogged up. I plucked my headphones from my ears and smiled at him feeling good after my run.

“Sydney,” Mulberry looked like he wanted to reach out and hug me. He was in jeans and a loose black T-shirt made of a material that both managed to hang loosely and yet show off the definition of his shoulders and chest. “How did it go last night?”

I stayed out of Mulberry’s reach and dragged my eyes off his body and up to his eyes but they were shining in a way that made me turn to the sea.

“He said something that made me think my room is bugged,” I answered and then turned back to him. “Something about how it’s not fair that women get called sluts when men can do what they like.”

It was Mulberry’s turn to look away. “Sorry about yesterday.”

“Yeah?” I said, crossing my arms.

Mulberry ran a hand through his hair, the smattering of silver caught the bright sunlight even in the shade of the tree we stood beneath. “I don’t think you’re a slut,” he said, not looking at me.

I nodded. “I don’t think you’re in love with me,” I said. “I’m sorry I said that.” He looked back at me. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly feeling dry, leaving me thirsty. “I’m sorry,” I said again, biting down on my bottom lip administering a flick of pain. Mulberry turned away first, walking to the stone wall and staring out at the ocean.

I stepped toward him. “Look,” I said. “We need to work together to clear Hugh’s name, but I need you to know that Robert Maxim is not to be trusted.”

Mulberry sighed. “Because he said you weren’t a slut.”

“No, because he is after me.”

Mulberry turned to me, his eyes dark with anger. “I know that, Sydney. You don’t think I know how much he wants you. He wants you to work with him-”

“And that’s why he set up Hugh,” I interrupted him, “and is listening to our conversations.”

Mulberry sighed in frustration, turned away and then back to me, opened his mouth, but didn’t speak.

“What?” I said.

He pursed his lips. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.

“What were you and Dan talking about?” I asked him. He looked up at me, his eyes unreadable. “I saw you talking after I left.”

“I apologized,” Mulberry answered, taking his time with each syllable, watching for my reaction. 

“Why would you need to apologize to him?”

Mulberry ran his hand through his hair again and didn’t make eye contact. “I knew how he felt about you.”

“You two talked, when we were in India?”

“Malina and I were in touch,” Mulberry answered, avoiding my gaze.

“Malina?” I asked.

“After Mexico, we stayed in touch, she’s an incredible lady,” Mulberry said. “Why wouldn’t I stay in touch with her?” He lifted himself taller as though I was accusing him of something.

“No reason,” I said, shaking my head. I wanted to ask him what he knew about Joyful Justice, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to know. Which side he came down on meant too much to me. I couldn’t let it sway me.

“We never talked about it,” Mulberry said.

“It?” I asked, looking up at him, wondering if he had read my mind. He caught my elbow.

“Did it mean anything to you?” he asked, his face tight.

I realized he was talking about the other “it”. I couldn’t look at him and pulled free. “Of course,” I answered, my mind transporting me back to my hotel suite in Udaipur, Mulberry’s rough hands against my skin, fighting me as hard as I fought him. It was so raw. Then lying in his arms, feeling incredibly safe. I felt my face flush.

“But you don’t trust me?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want the truth to permeate the air with all its horrible facts.

“You think I don’t want to?” I asked him, anger edging my voice. “You think I like keeping my distance from you? I don’t. I need you now more than ever.” My voice broke and he reached out for me but I backed away shaking my head. Clearing my throat I continued, “I don’t want to make a mistake that will cost me my life and Hugh his freedom.”

“Sydney, how could you think I would do anything to hurt you?”

I wet my lips. “I don’t know what’s between you and Robert. But I know he’s no good for me. That if he had his way, I’d become something I don’t want to be.”

Mulberry ran a hand through his hair, leaving the curls standing on end. “I’m sorry, Sydney. I wish you could trust me.”

“Me, too. We should go,” I said, turning back toward the hotel. “We have a meeting to attend. And I’ve got to get some clothing.”

“Didn’t you go shopping?” Mulberry called after me as I jogged away.

#

W
hen I walked into the strategy, meeting Ashley and Antonio were already there. They both smiled and we greeted each other. The building across the way glowed pink and violet in the twilight.

I was wearing a pair of tight white jeans, desert boots, and a gray T-shirt that I’d bought on my way back from the jog. They fit pretty well considering I hadn’t tried any of them on. But I still looked casual next to Antonio and Ashley with their pressed jackets and collared shirts.

Before the inane chitchat could begin, Mulberry walked in. He looked over at us, a scowl on his brow. Ashley’s eyes were watching him, smiling and flirty. She batted her lashes as she said, “good morning,” in a husky tone.

“Ashley,” he nodded. “Let’s get right to it. You have a report.”

“Yes,” she answered, stepping to the front of the room. Ashley waited for the rest of us to take our seats. No Edwards or Maxim today, I noted. 

“I’ve been digging into Mr. Taggert’s finances,” Ashley began, “and have discovered the man had a serious gambling problem. And he wasn’t playing craps at the Indian Casino.”

I remembered seeing a casino on the road to the Everglades, right at the edge of civilization. It offered the dream of a big win, a ticket to the good life.

“He was playing in Ivan Zhovra’s poker games.” The screen behind her lit up with a picture of a big man, Slavic and scary looking, crossing a street with a shorter, just as dangerous looking, man. “Zhovra’s taken a bigger chunk of illegal gambling in this city over the past three years than any other organization. He is ruthless and suspected in several murders.” The screen lit up with the photo of a dead man, his eyes open and glazed white, half buried in wet sand.

“Zhovra also owns a string of strip clubs across the state. He is suspected of trafficking girls from Russia and other ex-Soviet nations.” I sat forward. “Last year, Zhovra started showing up at
Defry’s
. I found him on tapes going back to the first week.” The screen showed Ivan Zhovra sitting at a table with Hugh, who wore his chef’s smock, and Taggert in a shiny gray suit. The white tablecloth that lay before them was stained with circles of red wine and splotches of dark sauces, all evidence of a meal well enjoyed. As were the smiles on all three men’s faces.

“Then, in the past four months, Ivan has been eating at
Defry’s
more regularly, and from the cursory examination we’ve been able to do on the bills, not paying for anything. All of his meals have been put onto Taggert’s personal account. I have an appointment with Mr. Defry tomorrow to find out what he knows about the two men’s relationships, but, I think at this point we can certainly consider Ivan Zhovra as a suspect.”

“Ivan Zhovra,” I whispered to myself.

“Did you say something?” Mulberry asked.

I looked over at him. “Do you think Lawrence was involved with the girls?”

Ashley answered me. “We don’t have anything to confirm or deny that at the moment but I think he was mainly a gambler.”

“There is no way Hugh would have gone along with it,” I said. “He wouldn’t have let them use his restaurant as a cover.”

Antonio cleared his throat and adjusted in his chair. I looked over at him, raising my eyebrows. “Seems to me,” he said, “we shouldn’t avoid any avenue of investigation. You never know what you might find while looking for something else.”

“You’re right,” I said. “We must be fearless with our inquiry, no matter where it leads.”

Antonio’s brows twitched into a frown, but then reset themselves as he gave a friendly smile and nodded.

“Any other questions?” Mulberry asked, looking around the table, his eyebrows raised. When no one spoke, he said, “All right, Sydney and I will go and interview Ivan tomorrow. We can also see Hugh beforehand. So Ashley, you just keep going through those tapes.”

Ashley tried to cover up her disappointment, but there was no denying the falter in her smile, the tightness around her eyes. I felt a pang in my stomach recognizing that she’d done the work, found the lead, and now she had to sit on the sidelines. I hated that shit.

Pulling the thumb drive out of my bag, I offered it to Mulberry, as Ashley took her seat. “I went by the gas station last night, where Hugh stopped on his way to the Everglades and got their footage for the past six months.”

Mulberry cocked his head at me, questioning when I’d gone out to the gas station, but didn’t say anything. His fingers brushed against mine as he took the small object from me. He passed it onto Ashley. “Take this to the viewing room with you. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

“Also,” I said. “Hugh only put about $10 in his tank.”

“That’s right,” Ashley said. “$10.80. I checked his credit card statement.”

“So, that’s definitely weird. Even the guy at the gas station agreed.”

“I’ll pass it on to Edwards,” Ashley said.

“Fine,” Mulberry said. “What about the tox screen?”

“Came back totally negative,” Ashley said.

“Have you spoken to Edwards about it?” Mulberry asked.

“He says it must be something they don’t normally test for.”

“Right,” Mulberry said and then turned to Antonio. “What have you got?”

“I spoke to Taggert’s wife. She was in Africa on a safari and only got home three days ago. She is making the funeral arrangements but seems in okay spirits. Wearing all black and looking good in it.” Antonio glanced down at his iPad. “She couldn’t think of why anyone would want to kill her husband and was shocked that Hugh would do a thing like this. She’d only met him a couple of times but he seemed, ‘very sweet’.”

“Do you think she knew about the gambling?” I asked.

Antonio looked up at me. “I’m guessing no, but I’ll ask her. She is loaded. Her family owns Tenson Pharmaceuticals. She travels a lot, a lady of leisure if you will,” Antonio said with a smile. “They didn’t spend much time together.”

“So she doesn’t work in the family business?”

“She’s one of the members of the board and does a lot of work with the family foundation.”

“The foundation?”

Antonio nodded and began flipping through his iPad again. “Yeah, they provide free vaccines around the world and also put some money into research. Apparently Lawrence was also passionate about the foundation and organized the gala every year.”

“Do you think she was involved?” Mulberry asked. “Gut feeling.”

Antonio shrugged. “She seemed to have genuine affection for him, if not true love. She said he was fun and easy to be married to. Didn’t tell her what to do.”

“Hmm,” I said. “I can get that.”

“Me too,” Ashley said, and then immediately turned bright red, her eyes darting around the table, surprised she’d spoken aloud.

CHAPTER TEN
The Devil’s Breath

I
called Lenox. “Sydney,” he said. “I hoped you would call.” His voice was as good as I remembered it.

“Hi, Lenox,” I said, sitting down on my bed. “I wanted to call and thank you.”

“You are very welcome. May I ask what happened?” The line was quiet.

I stood up. “What do you mean?” I asked, crossing to the window.

“Why you did that?”

Looking down onto the street below I saw the people gathering, their bodies lit up red and white from the car lights creeping by. Dinner was over and the party was just beginning.

“It’s a bad habit,” I answered.

“Freeing women from slavery?”

“It’s my methodology I question.”

“Ah, yes. It could have been more elegant.”

I laughed.

“You have a very nice laugh, Sydney Rye.”

The way he said my name seemed to zing through my body. “Thanks,” I croaked. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and cracked it open.

“Would you like me to make love to you?” he asked, his voice promising something entirely different from love.

I drank the water, took a breath. He waited patiently. “Sorry,” I said. “I’m not used to being propositioned on the phone.”

“Do you like it?”

“Hmm, okay.”

“I think you do.”

He was right. I did.

“I’m not gonna go for that right now,” I said, putting down the water and walking back to the window. “But, let me be very honest with you, since you’ve been so blunt yourself. I may very well be into that at a later date. But for now, can I just ask you a couple of questions?”

“Yes,” was all he said, but I felt it right down to my toes.

“Great,” I walked back to my water. “Malina said the two goons weren’t talking. I imagine whoever they work for wants to know what happened.”

“Several big men and three pit bulls,” Lenox said. “That’s who I heard attacked them. But to what they actually told their boss, I can’t say for sure.”

“And the women?”

“All safe. Living in a home with others who are also waiting for their asylum.”

“Who did those guys work for?”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“You like danger?”

“It likes me.”

“Hmm,” he hummed against the phone. “His name is Ivan Zhovra. You’ve heard of him?”

“Yes, and he’s looking for a bunch of guys with pit bulls?”

“From what I understand. But if you like danger, then he is just what you want.”

“Tell me more about him.”

I heard Lenox settle back into a leather chair, the material wheezing as he shifted his weight. The tinkle of ice cubes, a small sip, satisfied exhalation. “What do you want to know?”

“What would you want to know?”

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