Bird Brained (35 page)

The ghoul instantly stopped and lowered his Terminator-sized gun. “For chrissake, will you get that damn thing out of my eyes? Your flashlight is killing me!”

Tony Carrera stood before us dressed in a black wetsuit, skull cap, and night-vision goggles, holding an assassin’s wet dream. I looked in disbelief at the M-16 rifle, fitted with an M-203 grenade launcher, as well as a silencer to tone down what would have been a call-out-the-National-Guard, earshattering blast.

“Holy shit, Porter! What the hell’s the matter with you? Do you know how close I just came to blowing away you and your friend there? Next time, call out and let me know where you are. You could get yourself killed skulking around my backyard at night!”

I didn’t plan on there ever being a “next” time. It was evident that Tony was capable of handling his problems all on his own.

“What are you planning to do with that thing?” I asked, grateful the dark gave me cover to corral my nerves. “Invade a small country?”

“Hey, listen. If that bastard is gonna come into my yard, he’s gonna have to deal with the consequences,” Carrera fumed.

“Actually, Rach, we could use one of those things in South Beach,” Terri piped up. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any discount outlets that carry them, would you?”

“Who are you?” Carrera pulled off the goggles and closely eyed Terri.

“I’m her sidekick. The name’s Robin,” Terri answered, enjoying the charade now that all danger was past.

I flashed Terri a warning glance and turned my attention back to Carrera. “Do you mean to tell me that Langer actually came over here and took one of your birds this time?”

“All I know is that another of my flamingos is gone, and I got a good idea who’s responsible.” Carrera stormed off toward his pond.

“He’s definitely into some heavy S and M,” Terri murmured as we followed. “Very butch.”

We stopped at the edge of the water. On the opposite bank were twenty-four sleeping flamingos, each standing on one leg, the other leg tucked beneath a fan of ghostly pink feathers.

“My God! That’s how I want to look in my next life. Tall, thin, and elegant. Sort of like a living question mark with feathers,” Terri whispered.

Tony gave him a lingering once-over. “You kinda look that way already.”

Terri lifted his chin, his fingers traveling the length of his neck as his lips softly curved up into a smile. “They’re absolutely gorgeous.”

Tony nodded appreciatively. “I can tell you got a real eye for the finer things in life.”

“And how can you tell that?” Terri gave his baby blues a slow bat.

Tony stood up straight and made an obvious effort to pull in his immense stomach. “Well for one thing, you like my birds. And then there’s how you dress. Real classy-like.” Carrera nervously cleared his throat. “By the way, I think it’s Lula Belle that’s missing this time.”

“Why would someone kill anything as beautiful as a flamingo?” Terri asked, turning back to gaze at the peaceful scene before him.

“You must not be from around here. Let me warn you; this place is loaded with loonies,” Carrera responded.

“Doesn’t matter where you live. It’s all the same loonies, just different addresses,” Terri said philosophically.

Carrera nodded in agreement. I was starting to wonder where the slimy wildlife smuggler I knew had vanished to, when he reappeared.

“So, are you gonna go over and arrest the bastard, or what?” Carrera demanded.

“Tony, you don’t even know if it was Langer who took your flamingo.”

“He did it before. You damn well better believe it was him that did it again.” Tony jabbed a black-gloved finger at me. “You’re the one that’s so damned hot about protecting wildlife. How come you don’t seem to care what Langer does? Huh? Don’t you like flamingos? Or is there something else going on here I should know about?”

“Who is this Langer, anyway?” Terri inquired.

“He’s the goddamn certified lunatic that lives next door,” Tony retorted.

“Langer owns the Electric Doggy Fence Company,” I replied.

“Ooh. That’s big bucks,” Terri remarked. “There’s even one of those in New Orleans.”

“That’s right. Kinda makes you wonder if the feds have been bought off, don’t it?” Carrera snorted.

“All right! I’ll go over and talk to him. But unless he’s got your flamingo lashed to his grille again, or is willing to admit to taking it, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Well, you better figure out something to stop him or I swear I’ll take care of it myself. Even if I have to lure him over here and shoot him for trespassing,” Tony threatened.

I turned to Terri. “Why don’t you stay here? I’ll only be a minute.”

“Yeah. Stay. We can watch the flamingos together,” Carrera shyly offered, once more Mr. Sensitive Nice Guy.

“So, these reptiles that you sell to pet stores—have you ever considered offering an attractive line of accessories to go with them?” I heard Terri ask as I headed for the car.

I parked in front of Langer’s iron gate, which was securely locked, and hit the buzzer, prepared for his booming voice to jump out at me from the intercom. But all was quiet on the western front. If Langer was home, he wasn’t in the mood for company. There was nothing more I could do about Tony’s missing flamingo tonight.

I drove back to Carrera’s to collect Terri and hit the road. “Whadda ya mean, Langer isn’t there? I saw a van pull into his place less than an hour ago,” Carrera argued.

“Then you must have missed it when it pulled back out,” I informed him. “I looked through the gate, and there’s not a vehicle anywhere in sight.”

“I’m telling ya, he’s in there!” Tony stubbornly insisted. “You shoulda just gone inside and confronted him.”

“And how would you suggest I do that, Tony? The entrance gate is locked, and I’m afraid I left my handy-dandy burglar kit at home,” I snapped.

“Hell! That gate’s nothing but a joke. Follow me.”

We traipsed across his lawn to a far corner of the wall that separated his property from Langer’s.

“If a flamingo can get over this thing, so can you,” Carrera declared.

I looked up at the eight-foot wall, and wondered what combination of drugs Carrera was ingesting these days. “That bird
flew
over the wall, Tony.”

“Well, these arms of mine are just like a big pair of wings. I can hoist you up and over that thing real easy.”

I stared at the pot-bellied imitation of a Navy SEAL standing before me. “What are you, crazy? You said yourself that the man’s a certified lunatic. He’s got a zoo full of angry critters over there! For all I know, Langer could have one of his cats loose prowling the grounds at night.”

A vision of Fidel, Langer’s guard cat, flashed through my mind. The cougar’s amber eyes had sized me up as if I were walking steak tartare. Granted, the cat was declawed. But he still had very sharp teeth I preferred not to come into contact with.

“Don’t be such a wuss, Porter. I thought wildlife agents were supposed to be brave—or is that just the men?” he baited me.

If it had been anyone else, I might have accepted the challenge. But there was no way I was going to take an overweight guy dressed in a rubber suit seriously.

“You’re the one with night goggles and an assault rifle. Why don’t you breach the wall and have a look-see?” I shot back.

“’Cause that’s not my job—it’s yours. I’m a taxpayer and I figure this is part of the services I’m paying for,” Carrera huffily replied.

This was a novel approach. “As far as I know, becoming a mountain lion’s chew toy isn’t part of my job description. If you’ve got a problem with that, feel free to file a complaint. Otherwise, I’ll come back first thing in the morning and talk to Langer.” I looked for Terri, but he was nowhere in sight.

“If you’re looking for your friend, he followed the music over to the Bobbsey Twins’ place next door,” Carrera glumly informed me.

It figured. Terri knew that this way, I wouldn’t be able to chicken out and refuse to go over.

“Is Robin working with you full-time now?” Tony asked.

I had no idea who Carrera was talking about at first.

“You know. The guy that was just here with you,” Tony prompted.

“Oh—no. He only comes out on special assignments. But I believe he’ll be retiring after tonight,” I firmly replied.

“Too bad,” Carrera said wistfully. “Maybe you could tell him that he can stop by whenever he wants, to see the birds.”

“Sure, I’ll pass it along—as long as you promise not to mistake him for a trespasser and shoot him.”

“Very funny, Porter. Just do your job, and I won’t have to be out here doing it for you.”

I planned on doing just that—with each and every one of Carrera’s shipments receiving a full and thorough inspection.

I’ve never been one to crash parties. I’d sooner track a poacher into an alligator-infested swamp, or take on a rough-and-tough cowboy who calls you “ma’am” and then threatens to hang you. So, I very reluctantly pulled up to Ramon’s open gate.

The long, circular driveway was filled with a mini-UN of cars that included every pretentious model imaginable. It was enough to make any made-in-the-U.S.A. girl feel dowdy in her second-hand, straight-out-of-Detroit tin can. I parked my heap just outside the gate.

Lights burned bright in every window of the 10,000-square-foot Mediterranean mansion, creating the appearance of a house in midblaze. It was a toss-up whether to call the fire department, or to think of the villa as a giant birthday cake. If there was a blackout in the area tonight, I’d know why.

People spilled out of the front door like froth gushing from a newly uncorked bottle of champagne. Some gathered in groups, while others headed around to the back of the house. I joined those on the move, hoping to be invisible amidst the crowd, in which I stood out like a daisy among a bouquet of exotic flowers. Surrounded by drop-dead-gorgeous models, I wondered what penance I could pay to come back looking like them in my next life.

My ego took another dive as the Vallardes’s patio came into view. Festive lights had been slung around the poolside replicas of the Venus de Milo, Michelangelo’s David, and the remaining chorus line of life-size plaster nudes. But it was the other nudes, sans lights, that drew my attention. A number of them moved in and out of the pool, boasting hard bodies that had been sculpted by the most highly skilled professional hands. Terri was right: when gravity hits, forget the gym. Go immediately under the knife.

A perfectly built waiter passed by dressed only in a slim gold thong, a tray of champagne flutes delicately balanced on his hand. I took one and silently toasted the glory of tight buns.

Neither Elena nor Ramon was in sight, and I hoped I could quickly find Terri and vamoose. If we weren’t thrown out for gate-crashing, it would be for wearing too much clothing.

A tempting aroma snuck up from behind and I turned to see a tray of food passing by. Figuring I needed to keep up my energy, I grabbed a crab puff that tasted so good, I latched on to another. I was considering just following the tray, when a couple of wildly flamboyant dresses off in the distance caught my eye. The outfits were a rainbow swirl of colors decorated with layers of flounces, ribbons, and lace. The dancing duo was either a couple of cross-dressing peacocks, or else Sophie and Lucinda had been invited to the party.

I stood on my tiptoes, trying to see over the sea of heads, when a Tito Puente song swept everyone up into a wild dance, blocking the two women from my view. I worked my way through the crowd with a New York shuffle: an elbow here, a hip thrust out there—then slide, slide, slide. I was nearly halfway through the mob when I bumped into Terri.

“Rach! You made it!” He gaily flagged down a waiter, who produced two glasses of freshly poured champagne.

“Did I have any other choice?” I handed the nearly nude beefcake my first partially drained glass.

“Not really.” Terri clinked his champagne flute against mine, and raised his face to the night sky. A slight breeze ruffled his blond hair, which curled gracefully about his face. “Pinch me, Rach. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

“You said the same thing at the Havana Club,” I reminded him.

Terri beamed at a muscled Adonis who returned his smile. It was Ricardo, the model Elena had been photographing the first time I’d stopped by. Flaunting his torso in a shrunken muscle T-shirt, Ricardo flexed a bicep at Terri, followed up by a wink of his pec.

“You’re right, I did.” Terri gave a satisfied sigh. “Isn’t life wonderful?”

“Have you seen Lucinda and Sophie?” I asked, looking around.

“Why would they be here?” Terri shrugged off my question. “After all, we weren’t invited. What makes you think they were?”

I didn’t put it past my landladies to crash a party. Still, I supposed there could be two other women who dressed as wild-and-wackily as Lucinda and Sophie.

“Listen, Ter. I really think we ought to get out of here before either Ramon or Elena catches us.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Terri remarked under his breath.

A hand intimately wound around my waist, giving me an electrical volt of sheer, unadulterated pleasure.

“Raquel. I was hoping you would come.” Ramon’s breath seductively tickled my ear. “I have so much yet to teach you.”

Ramon was draped in a pair of charcoal linen pants and a gray silk shirt, pale as a puff of smoke. The soft fabric was unbuttoned to reveal a chest as deliciously smooth and brown as rich cocoa butter. His jet black hair, pulled back in its signature ponytail, hung damp against his head. I realized he must have been one of the nudes swimming in the pool. Droplets of water still clung to his face as he leaned in toward me and lifted my hand to his lips, so that moisture sizzled against my skin.

My brain reined in my hormones. Who did this guy think he was trying to kid? He hadn’t even invited me to his damn party!

But Ramon gave my champagne to Terri and pulled me in tight as the music turned into a beguiling tango.

No way!
my head yelled. My body didn’t care.

Ramon’s voice seared passionately through me as his hips swayed suggestively against mine. “Your progress has been wonderful so far, Raquel. Let us celebrate by vowing to make this evening special—I promise that tonight will be like no other. Everything you’ve learned has helped to prepare you for this moment. I believe you’re now ready to take on the Grand Master.” Ramon swept me back into a deep dip, his lips zeroing in to burn between my breasts.