Scottsdale Heat: a romantic light-hearted murder mystery (Laura Black Mysteries Book 1) (7 page)

In my rush to get out the door, I didn’t take my toothbrush, my make-up bag, or a coat. I figured I could call Reno from Sky Harbor airport, but by the time I got there I had to run just to get on the plane. There was a blizzard in New York and the flight was forced to circle JFK for an hour, which meant I also had to run to catch the Milan flight. Before I dashed onto the plane I tried to call Reno, but he didn’t answer. Given the time, he was most likely still asleep or in the shower. I left a message telling him I had to miss breakfast but would call him back as soon as I could.

Before I knew it, it was eighteen hours later and I was creeping along the snow covered second story bedroom balcony of a château in the Italian countryside. Gina was keeping lookout on the ground below me. It was dark, the wind was blowing snow against my face, and I had never been so cold in my life.

I ended up taking some great pictures of Rocco Moro doing some very naughty and nasty things with his teenage mistress. Now, I don’t know about the laws in Italy, but I’m pretty sure some of the things they were doing would be illegal in Arizona.

I swung my leg over the balcony and started climbing down. The plan was for Gina and me to fade into the Italian countryside, find the car we had stashed along the side of the road, then drive back to Milan.

Gina heard noises from the house and whispered for me to hurry. I had lowered myself about five feet when my foot slipped on the ice. I tried to catch myself but my numb fingers couldn’t get a grip on the snowy ledge. I fell almost fifteen feet and landed badly on my leg. There was a loud snap and a bolt of pain. I knew it was broken.

Gina was able to get me to a rural clinic. Only the doctors spoke any English, my cell phone was dead, and there wasn’t a telephone in sight of my bed. Gina said she stayed with me for the first two days, but I was too doped up to remember much about her being there. She then flew back to Scottsdale to deliver the pictures to Lenny.

He was thrilled. Rocco’s wife used the evidence to force a generous divorce settlement from her cheating husband. Lenny ended up making a pile of cash, as usual.

Sophie came to Italy two weeks later to help me get back to the States. By then, I had a walking cast on my leg and was able to move around on crutches. On the trip back, she asked if I had straightened things out with Reno. I told her “No.”

“Laura, you gotta call him,” she said. “You know, he’s going to think you’ve dumped him. Gina said he called her last week to see if she knew what was going on. She told him you were out of the country and would be back soon. She didn’t think Reno believed her.”

“I know,” I said. “I was supposed to see him on Christmas, but that was two weeks ago. I can’t just call him now. I still don’t even know what I’m going to tell him. When I get back to Scottsdale, I’ll go over and see him. With the cast, maybe I can use the sympathy ploy.”

Only that didn’t go as planned either. I couldn’t drive and I didn’t want to take a cab. After I got back, it was another three days before I got up the courage to have Sophie drive me over to Reno’s house. When we got there it was eight at night and Reno wasn’t home. Sophie and I parked across the street and sat for an hour and a half.

At 9:30 Reno’s car came down the street, but we saw he wasn’t alone. I didn’t recognize who she was, but she had big blonde hair and was wearing a red dress. We both ducked down while Reno pulled into his garage. Lights went on in the living room and then ten minutes later in the bedroom. We stayed until it was obvious there were shadows of two people on the bedroom window shade. I started crying and Sophie drove me home.

~~~~

The Suns beat the Lakers 115 to 98. At 11:00, I drove back to Duke’s. Fifteen minutes later the bus pulled into the lot. The people were in a rowdy mood as they spilled out. Alex got into his car and drove directly to his apartment, the Lincoln following almost on his bumper the whole way.

I was going to stay around for half an hour to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere else. But, in less than 20 minutes the living room light went off. Five minutes later, the bedroom light went off as well. Alex was in for the night.

I drove home to Marlowe.

The alarm started chirping and I hit the snooze bar to shut it off. I remembered setting the alarm the night before in hopes of getting to Alex’s before 8:00. Nine minutes later it went off again. I hit the snooze again, opened one eye, and looked at the clock: 6:09. Nine minutes later the happy chirping started again. I shut it off again and looked at the bedroom window. It was still dark outside.

Damn.

Four more times the alarm went off and four more times I shut it off. The fifth time it went off, I realized my heart was pounding and my crotch was throbbing. That woke me right up. I vaguely remembered dreaming about Reno doing a slow strip tease and then doing an amazing thing to me with his finger.

Damn.

I felt cheated. How unfair is it I can have another great dream about Reno and I didn’t get to enjoy it?

I pulled myself out of bed and stumbled to the shower. The hot water felt great. I washed my hair and loaded it up with conditioner. I then had a brief, but meaningful, affair with the shower massager.

One of the nice things about living in an apartment is the hot water never runs out. I stood there for almost half an hour feeling life come back into my body.

After the shower, I made a pot of coffee and fed Marlowe. From the closet, I picked out a short paisley print skirt and a sleeveless cotton top. I gave Marlowe a hug and scooted out the door.

~~~~

When I pulled into the entrance of Alex’s apartment complex it was 8:45. It was later than I had wanted to get there. I didn’t expect Alex to be up so soon, but I didn’t want to take the chance of losing him, especially now he had picked up some friends.

I drove around to the back of Alex’s building and spotted the Lincoln in a space across and down from Alex’s apartment. There were two men in the front seat. I wasn’t close enough to make out their faces, but they appeared to be the same two following Alex the day before. Alex’s car was under the car cover and parked in the same spot it was in the night before.

I parked on the street just outside the entrance to the apartment complex and waited.

For me, the hardest part of surveillance is I start to crave cigarettes. I had quit about six months ago and I’m OK about it, except when I get stressed or have to sit for long periods. Until six months ago, I would pass the time while sitting in the car by smoking cigarettes. I preferred the long skinny ones. It took about fifteen minutes to smoke each one, so I could tell how long I had been there by how many butts were piled up on the ground. Six butts equaled an hour and a half. Twelve butts meant I had been there three hours. A month ago, I had bought a pack while doing surveillance. I had gone as far as putting a cigarette in my mouth and keeping it there, unlit, for half an hour. Finally, I threw away both the cigarette and the pack. That was the last serious craving I’ve had, until today.

I could really use a smoke.

At 9:20, Alex pulled out of the lot, followed ten seconds later by the Lincoln. Alex drove east to the Loop 101 freeway and then headed south. It appeared he was headed toward Mesa or maybe Chandler, two of the suburbs on the East Valley side of Phoenix. We passed the exits to Thomas, McDowell, and McKellips. Alex was in the middle lane of the freeway, about to pass the exit ramp for the Loop 202 freeway.

Without warning, Alex turned sharply to the right and shot across a lane of traffic and onto the Loop 202 exit ramp. I saw smoke as the car behind Alex hit the brakes. Alex almost hit the plastic crash barrier mounted at the end of the exit ramp, but he made it. The Lincoln saw him exit, but was blocked by a semi-truck in the right-hand lane. They tried to get around the truck by speeding up and diving in front of it. I had to hand it to their courage because they almost made it. With a tearing
thump
, the semi clipped their back end and sent the Lincoln in a spin, bringing the entire freeway to a screaming halt. I hit the brakes, as did everyone around me. Tires screeched and there were several loud
thuds
as cars behind me rear-ended each other. Blue smoke and burnt rubber filled the air.

For a moment there was an eerie calm as every car the highway came to a stop. When the smoke cleared, I was in the front of a rapidly-forming traffic jam. The Lincoln had hit the same crash barrier Alex had managed to miss. It had come to rest in the middle of the Loop 202 freeway entrance ramp. All four tires had blown, the right rear quarter panel was in tatters, and there were pieces of car scattered all over the road. The semi had locked its wheels and jack-knifed, but fortunately had not turned over. Unfortunately, the truck had an open bin in the back and had been carrying a full load of oranges, several thousand of which were now scattered across the freeway.

After a minute, traffic began to filter around the accident. I heard sirens in the distance. In the age of cell phones and OnStar, freeway accidents are now reported in real-time. The tattered Lincoln completely blocked the off-ramp Alex had taken. There was no way I could get around them. I supposed it didn’t matter. Alex was already lost for the day.

I followed the trickle of cars going around the jack-knifed semi. I felt the soft squish under my tires as I ran over several oranges. The smell of citrus mingled with of burning rubber.

As I passed the Lincoln, I saw the two men were out of the car, both looking a little shaken. Apparently neither had been wearing a seatbelt. The tall guy was holding a towel to his bleeding nose. The short guy was holding his right arm close to his side, as if in pain. His good arm was holding a cell phone. Although I couldn’t make out the words, the sound of his shouting into the phone carried to my car. As usual, neither man looked happy.

~~~~

I drove back home to decide what to do next. Since my day of surveillance was turning out to be a bust, I decided maybe this would be a good time to get some more background on Meyer’s Jewelers and the creepy people at the Tropical Paradise. I also thought this might be a good excuse to talk to Jackson Reno. Who knows, I thought, maybe my erotic dreams about him were a sign? I took a deep breath, opened my cell phone, and called him at his old number. He answered on the third ring.

“Hey,” I said. “Remember me? It’s been a while. What are you doing for dinner tonight?”

The phone was silent. The kind of silent where you know the person is still on the other end, but they just aren’t talking. I was about to ask again when he spoke.

“Laura Black,” he said with a sigh. “I always knew someday you’d show up again.”

“And, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” I asked.

“No.”

“We always had a good time together.”

“Good time?” Reno said his voice starting to rise. “As I recall, you dumped me. I also remember while we were dating, before you dumped me, you had people trying to kill you. I mean, seriously trying to kill you. How is that a good time? Do you know how it feels to have people actively trying to kill your girlfriend?”

“It was only a couple of times and never while we were actually on a date.”

“There was that guy who rammed into your car and made you crash through the side of a car wash. Remember that?”

“Well, yeah. But it was only a rental and nobody got hurt.”

“And, there was the crazy woman who put all of those scorpions in your bedroom. Remember that?”

“Well, yeah. But wait a minute,” I said, my voice also starting to rise. “You’re a cop. People try to kill you all the time too.”

“No they don’t, and besides that’s completely different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “You said we always had a good time together? I don’t remember it that way. What’d we ever do together that was so good?”

“The sex was pretty good.”

There was another pause on the other end of the phone. Then he sighed, again. “OK, the sex was great. But that doesn’t mean I had a lot of fun the rest of the time.”

“Yes you did. You’re just upset because we stopped seeing each other.”

“Stopped seeing each other? As I recall, you dumped me. No good-bye, no kiss my ass, nothing.”

“I didn’t dump you, I was tied-up and couldn’t see you.”

“For over a year?”

“Well, it was only for a few weeks. But when I got untied-up, you had already started seeing someone else.”

“I won’t even begin to tell you I understand a word you are saying. Besides, I haven’t had a serious girlfriend since you dumped me.”

Oh, really?

“I didn’t dump you. And what about Cynthia Redburn? Tall with long blonde hair? You were seeing her. She spent the weekend over at your house less than a month after we stopped seeing each other.”

“So you dumped me and then stalked me?”

“I didn’t stalk you, Sophie did. You still haven’t said anything about Cynthia.”

“Cynthia was my rebound after I hadn’t heard from you for like three weeks. And yes, I did spend the weekend with her, but after that I never saw her again.”

“Why not?”

“It’s really none of your business, but she spent the entire weekend trying to get me to suck her toes. I mean all of them, all at once. I’d wake up and she’d have her foot shoved in my mouth.”

“Eeeyuuww
, gross.”

“Exactly.”

“OK, so let me buy you dinner,” I said. “To make up for it. And actually, I wanted to talk to you about business.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, dinner wouldn’t make up for it. What kind of business?”

“Cop business.”

“What kind of cop business?”

“Like, where would I go to if I wanted to fence some expensive merchandise?” I said.

“You’re trying to fence something? Your old engagement ring perhaps?”

“Maybe. Where would I fence it if I just wanted cash and no questions asked?”

“You could go to a lot of places,” he said. “Did you have anywhere particular in mind?”

“Maybe at Meyer’s Jewelry or maybe at the art gallery in the lobby of the Tropical Paradise?”

The phone went silent again. I waited it out.

“So,” he said. There was an edge to his voice. “You want to tell me what this is about?”

“Sure, over dinner?”

“No, not over dinner. Dinner would make it seem like a date.”

“OK, how about lunch? Frankie Z’s today at 1:00?”

Again with the sigh. “OK, sure. But I’m going to regret this. Don’t say I won’t, because we both know I will.”

“You won’t.”

~~~~

Frankie Z’s is a small, family-run, Italian restaurant off Hayden and Via Linda. Reno and I had been there several times before. I suppose if anywhere could be considered as
our
restaurant, Frankie Z’s was it.

As I drove closer to the restaurant and thought about seeing Reno again, some long forgotten feelings of excitement began to wake up in the pit of my stomach. I pulled into Frankie’s parking lot at 1:10. Hey, almost on time.

Walking in the door, the aroma of oregano, baked garlic, and olive oil wrapped around me. I hadn’t been here since I was here with Reno, over a year ago. Walking in the door felt good, sort of like coming home.

As I walked in, Frankie saw me and greeted me with a warm smile. Frankie Zappitelli is not only the owner, but also the full-time hostess and part-time chef. She is a small, ageless, Italian woman. As always, her black and gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She had on her usual long black cotton dress and black flats. She stopped and gave me the once-over. Her dark eyes sparkled as she spoke.

“Where you been?” she asked. “It’s been too long. You used to come here all the time, and then you disappear. Look how skinny you are. Hey, that’s OK. I fix you up good now. Both you and your cute boyfriend.”

I followed close behind as she went through a maze of tightly packed tables. She led me out to the patio where Reno was waiting. He looked up and saw me. He took me in with his eyes as I walked over and sat.

Even though I hadn’t seen him for almost a year, he was exactly as I remembered. His body was the kind you see on the covers of fitness magazines -- strong and tight. He was dressed in a faded Hawaiian Aloha shirt, blue jeans, and cross trainers. This was his typical uniform for surveillance and undercover work. I took a moment to look him over. Yup, those feelings were awake all over now. I was starting to tingle and sweat in some unusual places.

I’ve never been able to explain why I’ve always felt this way about Reno. It isn’t just because he’s good-looking. I know lots of guys who are good-looking. It isn’t just his great sense of humor or his firm body. I think it was more Reno knows where he wants to go. He has a real direction in his life. He also knows the difference between right and wrong and it seems to draw me to him. Plus, he can touch the tip of his nose with his tongue. Just thinking about it always makes me tighten up a bit.

“Well, Laura Black,” he said. “You look great. I hear you’re still working for Lenny. I suppose he’s doing well, even though he’s probably still a jerk.”

“Sure,” I said. “Lenny’s doing great. He has more money than he could ever spend. And yes, he’s still a jerk.”

“I ran into Gina a few months after you dumped me,” Reno said. “She said you were dating a golf pro?”