Mike Jastrzebski - Key Lime Blues

“She took a friend of mine hostage. Told me she’ll kill her if I don’t hand over the diamonds.” I felt defeated.

“And you don’t have them to give,” Elvis said.

“You and your bullshit are going to get my friend killed.”

“Your friend will be fine,” Elvis said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice. “She’s not the one who’s going to die.”

I jumped up, rested my hands on the desk and leaned in toward Elvis. “This is a bunch of crap and I’m tired of your spiel. It doesn’t work on me, but your interference is going to get someone hurt or maybe killed. You’re in way over your head, Elvis.”

“I’m not interfering, Wes. I’m trying to help. I wanted to let you know what’s going on. The last thing Gail said when she left this morning was that she’s going to kill you. Just so you know, you don’t have to worry about anything either.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“You’re good at what you do, Wes. You shouldn’t try to run away from it. And the trouble with your mother will work itself out.”

Again, the imaginary venom was inching its way down my spine. For a moment I wavered and wondered if there was something more to Elvis than I was willing to admit. I shook off my doubts.

“If I were a gambling man,” I said, “I’d bet Tanya told Destiny about my mother and Destiny told you.”

Elvis shook his head. “Celine was back in my dreams last night. She told me about your mother. Celine feels as responsible for your quitting your job, as you feel for her getting killed.”

“I’m outta here, Elvis. This is nonsense. Everything you’ve said, you could have found out by doing a little research.”

“Why would I bother?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you want something from me.”

“I do. I want you to find out what really happened to Celine.”

I started toward the door. “Well if that’s the case, you can rest assured. I made arrangements with my mother to put an investigator onto Myron Stewart. I still don’t believe a thing you’ve told me. When I can prove you wrong, I’ll be back to rub it in your face.”

“And if I’m right?”

I reached out and pushed open the door. “When that happens I’ll apologize.”

“There is one more thing, Wes.”

“Why am I not surprised?"

“If it’s any consolation, I can assure you that you won’t go back to working for your mother. But you can’t quit being what you are, and you’re a damn good investigator. I’d like you to come to work for me. Sometimes, like with Celine, I see things. The police are almost as skeptical as you are and I need someone to gather hard evidence before I go to them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, not quite believing what he was suggesting. He stared back at me with those dark, tired eyes and waited for my response. A part of me almost wanted to believe in him. Right then I realized that if he could make me feel this way, he must have nearly complete control over those who believed in psychics.

“I don’t want to be a detective,” I said.

“Is that true, or is the truth that you don’t want to work for your mother?”

It was a disturbing question, one I’d asked myself more than once. It was also a question to which I didn’t have an answer. I ignored it and left the office. As I pulled the door closed behind me, he added, “Come see me when you find Celine’s body. You may be able to keep a more open mind at that time.”

***

By nine that evening Destiny still hadn’t called. I paced back and forth between the kitchen and the living room of Tanya’s house. The wait gave me time to think about my conversation with Elvis. Maybe it was the mood I was in, maybe it was the anxieties of waiting for the call, but I began to wonder how Elvis came by his information. I suspected he had other detectives working for him, gathering information on me as well as other prospective clients. If so, his con game was much more organized than I’d imagined.

I might have gone on all night wondering about it, but my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, and was irritated when a male voice said, “Mister Darling?”

“I’m waiting for a call, Dom. I can’t talk right now.”

“Please Mister Darling.” Dom coughed, and his voice took on a strained quality when he continued. “I think they’re going to hurt Mister Elvis.”

“Who are they, Dom? You need to calm down and be a little clearer on what you’re saying.”

“It’s the girl you were asking about. Mister Elvis called her Gail, but the guy she’s with kept calling her Destiny. Mister Elvis told me that if she showed up I was to call you.”

“Was there another girl with them?” I asked.

“Yes sir. I don’t know her name, but her hands were tied behind her back.”

“I’m on my way.” I headed for the door, talking as I ran. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the living room, locked in a closet.”

“You stay put. Don’t even try to get out until I get there,” I said. “I’d rather not get the police involved right now.”

“Good. The man said if anyone tried to call the police, he’d kill all of us. I believe him. He has a gun and he forced me into the closet, then he hit me on the head with his gun. I pretended to be knocked out. That’s when he locked me in, but he didn’t check to see if I had a phone. I couldn’t think of anyone else to call. I could break out easy enough, but I’m afraid if I do he’ll kill Mister Elvis.”

“Hold on a sec.” I hurried across the porch and grabbed Tanya’s pink bicycle. It was tucked into the corner of the porch and unlocked, so I carried it down the steps and out the gate. I climbed on board and began to pedal the bike before lifting the phone back to my ear.

“Is there a gun in the house?” I asked.

“Mister Elvis keeps three antique pistols in a display case in the library. They wouldn’t be loaded, and I don’t know if they can still shoot.”

Great, I thought. I peddled furiously down the street and wondered what I was going to do when I got there. I was unarmed, and every instinct told me to contact the police. But my thoughts turned to what had happened to Celine, and I couldn’t bring myself to make the call.

I slowed to allow a pedestrian to cross in front of me before turning onto Eaton. Traffic was light. No one seemed to notice when I jumped off the bike and leaned it against a fence two doors down from Elvis’s house. If someone wanted to steal the damn thing, I wasn’t going to worry about it.

I lifted the phone to my ear. “You still there, Dom?”

“Yes sir.”

“How do I get inside?”

“I could break out and let you in the front door.”

“They’ll hear you,” I said. “Is there another way in?”

“The side door facing Duval leads to Mister Elvis’s library, but you have to walk past the windows in the office. I think they’re all in there, at least I haven’t heard anyone walking around the house since I got locked in here. The blinds might be shut, but I usually do that and I never had time to close them.”

“Is the door locked?”

“It’s always locked at night. But we keep a spare key. It’s hidden in the pot holding the cactus. When you face the steps it’s on a stand to your right. Reach behind the cactus and the key is pushed into the dirt right along the edge of the pot.”

“What will I find once I’m inside?”

“You’ll be in the library. The door on the right leads to a hall. The one on the left leads to Elvis’s office. That’s where you met with him.”

“You sure you’re okay, Dom?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m going to hang up and turn off my phone so you won’t be able to call me,” I said. I glanced at my watch. “Give me fifteen minutes, and then start yelling and pounding on the door. I’m hoping the noise will split them up before I try anything. But whatever you do, if someone comes to the door and tells you to be quiet, listen to them. I don’t want you getting hurt. Understand?”