Dan fought a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Sometimes I don’t believe you retired from Miami-Dade PD.”
“I didn’t retire. I quit before I turned completely numb to our species.”
“I can relate.”
“I don’t think the real reason Bandini sent his boy to nail Nick to the cross has that much to do with our visit to the carnival. I believe it had more to do with leaving a warning in Nick’s psyche. His message was simple: don’t be a witness or say anything about the conversation you overheard in the bar and we won’t come back.”
“Is Nick going to press charges?”
“I think he will if you find the guy. But because the attacker never actually mentioned Carlo’s Bandini’s name, only implied as much, Nick can’t prove the connection. Since this guy’s so good with icepicks, maybe he’s the one who slammed one into the heart of Lonnie Ebert.”
I slid the napkin with the tag number to Dan. “This is the license plate number on the motorcycle he parked in the marina lot. Harley. New model. Skull and crossbones on the gas tank. He may be walking with a limp. Nick managed to crack a heavy-duty flashlight across the guy’s shin.”
“All right. I’ll see what I can find. And because I’m conducting a murder investigation, I can do DNA tests on the other stuff, too. I just need Courtney Burke’s DNA, which we will get sooner or later. All of this will prove one way or the other whether this girl is the biological daughter of you and Andrea Logan. It won’t prove her innocence. If she is the alleged love child the media keep yammering about, it should make one hell of a presidential election year because I will find her and I will arrest her, Sean. If she’s your kid, too bad you never had a chance to have an influence on her. Thanks for the coffee.”
He got up to leave and walked across the lot. As I watched him get into his unmarked police cruiser, I noticed the same Ford SUV parked in the corner of the lot. The men never got out. I knew I was now being followed, and I was fairly sure it wasn’t Carlos Bandini’s men. If I was right, these guys reported to men who would make Bandini look like a Boy Scout leader.
38
The college kid asked me if there was anything else he could bring me. I said, “Maybe. What are you studying in college?”
He grinned. “I want to get into film. I took some visual arts and video classes in high school and loved it. Plus, I’ve always like acting, and I think I’d be a good director one day. I even shot a short film on my iPhone this summer. It has the eight millimeter app, shoots great stuff.”
“I bet it does. Here’s a chance for you to practice your acting and earn some money for college, too”
“What do you mean?”
“I have a friend in the black Ford SUV in the lot. He wants a large Coke with lots of ice. I have to make a phone call.” I reached in my wallet and whipped out four twenties. “This is yours if you deliver it to him. Might as well make it two large Cokes because he’s got a friend with him. Your job is to tap on his window and deliver the Cokes. But since you’ll have them on a tray, you’re going to spill one or both in his lap, and you’ll act like it was an accident. Offer to pay for the dry-cleaning, okay? They won’t take your offer because they have their own dry-cleaning service. But here’s an extra twenty if they do.”
“Man, I don’t know … I could sure use the money, but—”
“You’re not spilling hot coffee, only a soda. Not that big of a deal, and if you’re as good of an actor as I think you are, piece of cake. It’s just a dress rehearsal for a scene you might use later as a director.” I smiled.
“Okay, what the heck. Long as it doesn’t get me fired.”
I gave him the money and watched as he filled two large cups with ice and soda, put them on a tray and walked out the front door.
I stood and headed for the kitchen, quickly walking through it, smiling at a sweating Mexican cook with a maroon bandana on his head, spatula in one hand. I left through the back delivery door, stood in the sago palms for a second, and looked around the edge of the restaurant. I watched the tinted glass window slide down on the SUV, the college kid saying something, and then spilling the sodas through the window. I jumped in my Jeep and left through the rear exit of the lot, pulled out onto a back street, and headed straight for the carnival.
Courtney Burke opened the windows in the small Airstream trailer, the cross-breeze puffed the curtains on the window facing Bullfrog Creek. She could smell the blooming lilac and tangerine blossoms in the morning air. She looked out the window and watched a blue jay hop between limbs on an oak tree, the bird squawking a morning melody. The blue jay was one of her grandmother’s favorite birds. Her favorite was the puffin. Courtney thought about her grandmother and had the overwhelming urge to call her.
Then she heard the steady, non-excited sound of a dog barking. Clementine. She smiled and thought how unreal it was for the cockatoo to bark so much like a dog. She turned to make a cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. Courtney felt her pulse rise. She stood to a far right angle to the front window and saw Boots standing at the door.
“Courtney, it’s just me.”
She opened the door. “Hi, come in.”
“I can’t. Heading into town. What can I bring you?”
“You’ve been so kind to me already. I’m fine.”
Boots nodded. He wore a purple tank top, red shorts, flip-flops and a yellow fedora with a white feather stuck under the band. “I spoke with my brother, Isaac. He tells me you like carrot cake. I’ll bring some.”
“Thank you.”
“Another thing he just told me over the phone … there’s a man looking for you. He said he came to the carnival and asked about you.”
“What man?”
“Said his name was Sean O’Brien.”
“What’d he want to know?”
“Where to find you.”
“Did he tell him?”
“No, of course not. Do you know him?”
“Yes. He stopped two drunken men from attacking me.” She looked away, her eyes following a blue jay in the cypress trees.
Boots watched her for a moment. “I sense he did more than that, although that is quite a noble feat. Is there something else about this man you want to tell me, something you want to talk about?”
“No.”
“Okay. Isaac did say this gent, O’Brien, seemed to be searching for you independent of any police. Maybe he’s a private detective. Why would he be interested in you? Is it because he pulled those men off you?”
“I guess so. I don’t know.” She bit her lower lip.
“My brother told me something else. He said Carlos Bandini questioned him about the extent of his relationship with you. Isaac said he knows Bandini won’t stop until he avenges his brother’s death.”
“I had no choice. Tony Bandini had his fist wrapped around my hair, and was reaching for the gun on the table.”
“I understand. But Carlos Bandini knows only one way, an eye for an eye. If this man, Sean O’Brien, if he’s more than a good Samaritan, just maybe he’s the person who might intervene on your behalf. Is he more than a good Samaritan, Courtney?”
She looked down at Boots and said, “No.”
39
Dozens of brown-skinned men, many already with their shirts off, bare backs glistening, were rolling up huge canvass tents, dismantling rides as massive as the double Ferris wheel. Semi-trucks and large flat-beds were being loaded as the Bandini Amusement Company prepared to move to another town, delivering its brand of entertainment to another county fairground.