Bodies Of Art Mystery: Marked Masters Part 6

"Look, lady, I can't double park with all these cops around."

I kept my eyes trained on the boys in blue and swirled a finger in the air. "Keep circling the block. I'll jump back in, I promise. I'll pay the extra fare."

The cabbie's words arm-wrestled their way around the cigar. "Gimme what's already on the meter."

"But you'll wait for me, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he growled, then pulled on the brim of the cap.

The ambulance pulled away at that moment, but the lights and siren remained off. Several officers were watching as I exited the cab, and I wished I hadn't worn slacks so I could flash a little leg and distract them. Instead, the Fendi and I put on our most confident att.i.tudes and headed for the elegant gla.s.s and bra.s.s-plated entrance to Tina's condo building. Grandfather always said people perceived whatever one projected, and right now I wanted to project the mien of someone who wasn't expecting the worst. Getting into the lobby was easy, but all further progress stopped at the elevators.

"Ma'am, do you live here?" asked a man in a dark suit, his badge clipped to his belt and peeking out behind the right flap of his suit jacket. Detectives onsite already. This didn't look good.

"No, Detective, I'm here to see a friend. We made plans yesterday to meet this morning." Oop! Too much info. Slow down, Laurel, and keep with one sentence answers.

"And your friend's name?" He poised a pen over his notepad.

I reminded myself about perception, and flashed my best I'd love to talk, but I'm really in a hurry smile, and said, "Tina, Tina Schroeder."

His dark gaze hit me like a sudden laser. "Please step over here for a moment." He introduced himself as Detective Roblo and led me to the corner farthest away from the doors and elevators.

Yep, the worst. Just as I'd feared.

All the gory details aside, Tina was found about thirty minutes before in the alley behind the building. A probable victim of robbery, according to the detective, but I felt a s.h.i.+ver when he said her throat was cut. Okay, so that was one gory detail. I bit my lip to keep from blurting out how her death was just like the fat man in Italy. I did not want to get into that with Miami law enforcement.

"Was anything of value taken, Detective?" I had to know.

"Yeah, the thief grabbed her purse and ran."

And I was pretty certain the snuffbox was part of this supposed thief's loot.

"But why kill her? Was she...violated?" I knew my questions were natural, and I wanted to appear absolutely genuine. Well, my grief was, after all. I really had liked Tina.

The detective put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "No, there was no evidence of anything s.e.xual."

Which would have been a relief if it didn't make her subsequent murder just so much more unnecessary in a simple s.n.a.t.c.h-and-run robbery. Still, I was grateful for the information. "Thank you." Tears stung my eyes.

He took my contact details. Of course, at this point I wasn't sure how long Jack and I would be in Miami, but I told the detective I was leaving after the day's art event and I was in Miami to attend as a representative of the Beacham Foundation. Apparently my grandfather's name still carried enough cachet to offset the mess my father did to it in the greater Miami/Dade area, because the detective raised his eyebrows when I showed my ID, and he quickly waved me on.

My cabbie, on the other hand, chose the opportunity to move on to greener pastures, since he'd required my green before I'd left the vehicle. One of the uniformed cops called for another cab, and I waited at the curb debating my options. I wasn't sure if I should go on to the event and get in during the confusing early setup or do some nosing around here first.

A black Lincoln Town Car slid noiselessly to the curb in front of me, and the back door opened. Yes, Jack stepped out. I didn't know whether to let my anger speak over being left earlier, express my grat.i.tude he'd shown up when I was still a little shaken by the news of Tina, or walk quickly away because I was more than a little apprehensive about where he'd been during the time frame of the murder. Not to mention the serendipitous way he showed up so soon afterward.

Irritation and apprehension moved to make my decision. "No, thank you. I have a cab coming." Still, this was Jack. He'd had ample opportunities to kill me and leave my body hidden in places it would have never been found. Of course, he wasn't a murderer. However, there were things I needed to say to him, but this was not the time, and a closed car was not the place. At least, not until I had ample opportunity to mull things over. Things like, why did Jack happen by this place right now, and where had he been previously?

"Laurel, don't be obstinate. Get in."

"The cab is already on its way. I don't want him to drive all the way down here and have no fare. Cabbies need respect too."

"In this neighborhood, he'll be quickly dispatched to another fare. Never fear. We have just enough time to get to the Browning event, and I must still charm Melanie into giving you a pa.s.s."

"I'm not-"

One of the uniformed officers took note of the idling Town Car and interrupted with, "Sir, you're going to have to move along."

Jack shot me a warning look. "Laurel, we'll discuss this en route."

I complied. A Beacham was taught never to create a scene unless it was completely necessary. And despite my doubts about Jack's honesty, I couldn't force myself to go against my social training in this instance.

The b.u.t.tery soft leather was just as inviting as ever, and Jack offered a cup of coffee from the carafe.

"Thank you." I'm always amazed when served with a china cup and saucer in any kind of limo. We've become a society of to-go cups and disposable everything.

"So, why are you here?" Jack asked. "Didn't have your fill of coppers yesterday when the Mercedes was stolen?"

"Could ask you the same question." I purposely kept my eyes on my coffee as I spoke and only looked up after taking a sip. "Why are you in this neighborhood?"

"I had a meeting," he said. "You didn't mention anything last evening about taking a jaunt to Bricknell before the art festival."

"I a.s.sumed I would have an opportunity to do so when we met for breakfast, but you apparently had other plans." His face colored when I said that. Interesting. "Didn't think I needed to be informed about your plans, either, Jack? Who did you meet, and did you learn anything new?"

He muttered something I didn't catch.

"What was that?"

"Never mind." He crossed his arms over his lovely Tom Ford jacket. It was new, and Margarite obviously knew his size as well. I could have left it at that...except I couldn't. I was about to add another of my two cents to the situation when Volcano Hawkes sputtered and blew.

"You simply cannot use any reason, can you, Laurel? We're trying to keep our investigation quiet, then you find whatever state of affairs is the most dangerous to you personally, and that's precisely where you hare off to. Someday, someone isn't going to be there to grab you before it's too late. Someday-"

"Now, just a minute, bucko!" Where did he get off? "I don't know what you think you know, and maybe you already know everything, but when you picked me up, I was going to meet Tina. You know, Tina, the girl I talked to yesterday. I was trying to meet with her for coffee ahead of heading to the fair. And if you hadn't slipped away at dawn and left me on the boat, you might have been invited too."

Okay, none of that last bit would have happened, but I had a head of steam and needed enough words to vent it.

Jack was undaunted. "All the police at the building didn't tip you off that your idea wasn't the safest one you'd ever devised?"

"There was an ambulance. Someone could have had a heart attack or fallen down the stairs."

"Police aren't normally called for either of those types of occurrences."

"My G.o.d, you sound like Max." My boss could be insufferable at most times, but his leaps of logic could reach Olympian lengths. No way I could tell Jack about the snuffbox and Tina's connections to it and give him more ammunition to hurl my way. I should have just come clean in the beginning when he could jettison his anger on the fact the snuffbox had once more likely disappeared. As it was, I could only play this out to its logical conclusion.

"I had no reason to think the activity at the building entrance impacted my seeing Tina in any way. She was the picture of health yesterday, so the ambulance didn't even play into my thoughts." Then the walls of the car started moving in on me, and the gravity of what had happened. I heard my cup and saucer clink onto the floorboard but hadn't realized I'd let go. Instead, I suddenly realized I'd slid down to lie on the leather seat. "If I hadn't gone, I wouldn't know right now that she's dead."

A second later Jack pulled me to his chest, and all the tears I'd trapped inside my heart broke for freedom. He handed me a handkerchief. Yes, an actual monogrammed hanky, and for a brief instant I lost myself in the incongruous thought of how few I saw anymore with men under sixty.

Then I bawled. He stroked my hair, moving his hand slowly to my back and soothingly down an arm, a leg, just about any place he could reach. What made me finally stop sobbing was the fear my makeup was likely ruined, and we were mere blocks from the Browning. A mirror confirmed the worst. I'm not shallow. I'm practical.

Worse, as I panicked and made a quick fix, Jack turned from Mr. Sympathy to a warped version of Henry Higgins. But instead of chastising me on diction, he tried to keep my attention by lecturing in the "for your own safety" vein. When he finally said, "I'm sorry about your friend, but you have to understand you cannot simply wander into-"

"You know, Jack," I interrupted as I scooted as far away from him as the interior allowed. "A minute ago you were acting like a gentleman." I balled up the hanky and threw it at him. "A real gentleman. You almost fooled me. But an actual gentleman would never have left this morning without me. And if it was absolutely necessary he did, said gentleman would have taken a cab for himself and left me this Town Car."

"I don't see how that makes any difference."

Neither did I, but no way I would admit it to him. "That's exactly why you'll never be a gentleman, Mr. Hawkes." I roughly tugged the Fendi near my side, turned my back to Jack, and focused on my mirror. I did sneak a couple of looks at him, but he just crossed his arms and stared pointedly out his side window.

I salvaged enough of my face until I could get into a bathroom. At the moment, I needed to set my own agenda. A plan guaranteed not to include Mr. Jack "Panties in a Twist" Hawkes. I may not have known who killed Tina, but the art fte would be a good place to ask questions. I owed it to my friend, and equally I owed it to myself to try to find the next link in the quest of the snuffbox. It had been my responsibility to retrieve it in Italy, after all. The entrance of Jack and his major art heist conundrum had no bearing on my original mission.

Regardless, someone was playing dirty, and if I'd been with Tina this morning, I might have shared her fate. Okay, yes, that thought made me kind of feel like s.h.i.+vering again.

"Laurel, you're going to have to trust me." Mr. Silence broke his self-imposed detente. Boy, did he pick the wrong time to talk again.

"Trust you? Trust you? When you take over and decide where I'm going to stay, when I'm going to eat, and when I'm allowed-or not allowed-to leave? Put yourself in my place, Jack. Would you trust me if the roles were reversed? Or would you be just a little concerned that a whole mult.i.tude of nefarious people have control-issue tendencies, and I might need to be careful around everyone, including you?"

"Nefarious."

"I didn't want to pigeonhole you, so I threw your evil tendencies in with the mult.i.tudes."

He grinned, and I had to slide my hands under my thighs to keep from slapping him. The man kept pus.h.i.+ng me. Soon. Soon, when I didn't have a driver as a witness.

Regardless, I think Jack knew what I was thinking because he leaned closer and pulled at my wrists until he could take both my hands in one of his. I looked away, and he used his free hand to twist my chin back around to look at him. "I have few nefarious tendencies, but none that need concern you. I simply want to keep you safe, and you tend to do everything in your power to keep me on the verge of a heart attack."

Whew! I opened my mouth to speak but found a huge lump in my throat instead. I thanked my lucky stars when the Browning filled the view through the winds.h.i.+eld. As the car pulled to the curb, I had an out, and my voice returned.

"I talked earlier to Nico. He has a pa.s.s for me. So see what you can find out from Melanie and company, and I'll work any sources I have who show up today."

"I don't know-"

"Don't be silly, Jack." I stretched out a foot to the sidewalk as the driver opened my door. "I'll be in public view all day with Nico to watch my back. You'll be in more danger a.s.sociating with Preying Mantis Melanie."

"Remain in public view at all times."

"This is my element, sir." I anch.o.r.ed a hand on one hip and waited for him to join me on the pavement, while hoping he hadn't realized my words were not really an a.s.surance. Couldn't help it. I had to give myself some wiggle room, and lucky for me Jack didn't seem to recognize the evasion for what it truly was.

"Good." Jack fastened a b.u.t.ton on his jacket as he resumed full height. There were going to be a lot more women noticing Mr. Hawkes than the art at the festival. Thank goodness I was immune to his charms.

The driver closed the door and returned to the front seat. The car glided silently away, making me remember another question I'd forgotten to ask. "Why did you rent the Mercedes anyway? Why didn't Margarite or the captain just send the Town Car for us? Then we would still have our luggage because the driver would have stayed behind when we entered the gallery."

"Precisely why I didn't. I couldn't predict where our path may lead last night, nor how long we might have been held up at various places, and I didn't want the poor chap bored out of his skull."

Yeah, with satellite television and radio in the vehicle and personal phones that can do practically everything short of time travel. Jack may not have been able to recognize my evasions, but I had become a pro at spotting his attempts at same. No matter.

"Next time?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Definitely." He nodded.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Nico was obviously following the GPS signal on my phone, because he was at the curb and waiting when we pulled up. It didn't take much coaxing to get Jack to hand me off to my a.s.sociate and go investigate on his own. I think Mr. Hawkes had already had enough of me for the day, and I can't say I didn't return the feeling.

My right-hand geek was dressed in summer-weight Armani and looking good enough to eat. "Nico, I swear I'm going to lose you today to one of the gallerinas."

His beautifully sculpted black brows rose closer to his curly hairline. "If it does not happen, I will feel I have wasted my time coming today."

Hand to my heart, I said, "I feel slighted."

He snorted. "Until the first of your many admirers comes up to reacquaint themselves with the beautiful and talented Laurel Beacham."

"Thank you for mentioning beautiful, but only you know my true talents."

"Not all your talents." His smile was nothing short of a leer and made me laugh. Oh how I'd missed his humor in the past week.

He already wore a pa.s.s around his neck and pulled another from his pocket. "They were in the file, exactly as you told Ca.s.sie," Nico said, draping my pa.s.s on its gold lanyard over my head. "I also have this for you to carry with you at all times." He handed me a flat packet, deceptively lighter than its appearance implied.

"What is it?" In that weird way crowds develop, we were suddenly surrounded by people, and I felt almost claustrophobic.

"Your personal escape hatch. Keep it in your purse," Nico said. "We will talk about it later."

"Okay." My curiosity was aroused, but I knew better than to open something when Nico said to wait. I pointed toward the gallery. "I need to use the restroom for a second. Why don't you circulate, and I'll find you in the tents."

He nodded, then moved to join the surging crowd, his dark curls disappearing into the throng.

It was quick work to make my face once more presentable. The patch up I did in the car had been enough to cover. Having a few moments alone in the ladies' room not only helped my appearance but boosted my self-confidence too. Long ago, I'd recognized the value of stealing a few minutes alone to simply breathe, and this day was no exception. However, all good things come to an end, and when Melanie stepped through the door, I realized it was my cue to depart.

"He's out of your league. You know that, don't you?"

My hand was on the pull bar. I was almost out the door. I told myself, Leave, don't look back. Then my mouth started moving, and I turned to face her. "Melanie, I don't take anyone's leftovers, least of all yours. If you think you have any chance with him, go for it. But I honestly believe he has better taste."

She raised her throwing arm as I ducked out the door. An instant later I heard her lipstick case shatter when it hit the tiled wall where I'd been standing.

In the tents and enclosures, we could hear the wind, but Mother Nature wasn't slowing down this party. Champagne and caviar flowed like water, and I grabbed a mimosa from a circulating waiter. The gla.s.s was simply a prop. I needed to keep a clear head today to see what I could learn about Tina's death and where the snuffbox may now have traveled.

"Have you seen the event planner?" I asked one of the gallery employees circulating among the guests.

The woman, whose name tag read Kendall, pointed to a gla.s.sed-in corner at the top of the Browning. "Last I saw of her, she was heading for the top of the building. There is a little set of corner offices where she can keep a birds-eye view on things as she makes phone calls and fields questions. You might check there."

Overnight, the courtyard had been covered with a high dome top to protect the artwork from the direct effects of the sun. This was the New Artists area, and I would be back to check things out, especially since crews were pumping in cool air via several strategically placed portable AC units. The now probable storm was making the day sticky already, though it wasn't even noon.

As I again approached the Browning's front door, I turned to scan the crowd on the off chance I would see Jack or Nico. Neither man came into view, but as the old saying goes, "A good time was had by all," or at least the event was in the process of getting that appellation. Beautiful people were laughing, mingling, talking, and drinking as well as eating. Inside, a small band played a mix of chamber and Latino music in the main lobby, the sound faint but pleasing.

I waved away another waiter, this time sporting some kind of artichoke heart hors d'oeuvres, and pushed through the crowd to the Deco railed staircase. Everything on the ground floor was new art, some by established contemporary artists and a good number by new fledglings who had somehow come up with the entrance fee, and still more who had been asked to partic.i.p.ate. None of this was going to get me any answers about my friend's death or a seventeenth-century snuffbox, so it wasn't worth my time unless new information surfaced. I hoped Jack was making progress in our joint mission, because I'd pretty much put all thought of it aside as my plans s.h.i.+fted toward coordinating horizons that included this new murder.