Heart Strings (Black Magic Outlaw Book 3) (7 page)

 

 

 

 

There was a big problem with Kita Mariko that I may have glossed over. Namely, she was a formidable paper mage. Worse, she'd recognize me.

Flustered, I swiped at a random tchotchke on the bank manager's desk. A sky-colored stress ball with the company logo on it bounced to the floor. I shot my head below the desk to grab it.

"Is Douglas in the back?" asked Kita as she strolled by the desk.

"Yes," answered the British voice in a decidedly less superior tone. I guess money
does
buy respect.

Kita's heels didn't slow their tempo as she disappeared into the back room. I lifted my head above the desk and let out a sigh of relief.

"Cute," I said, squishing the stress ball a few times. It didn't help. "What's the minimum deposit I need to get one of these? A hundred K?"

The manager crossed her arms and arched her eyebrow, clearly unamused. I set the stress ball on her desk so the words "Blue Sky" were upside down, excused myself, and hurried outside.

Kita Mariko: disappeared, lying low, doing some good old-fashioned Cayman Islands banking. So much for boring.

I waited on my scooter a block away for twenty minutes until Rudi Alvarez's chief of staff left the building. My eyes followed her to a modest rental car. She sat in the driver's seat of the compact and drove off, never noticing me in tow.

Ten minutes later we were cruising along West Bay Road, along a strip of swanky hotels. Not boutiques, mind you, but giant resorts each one. This was the main destination strip of the island. Loads of money and luxury lined a public beach that had no business looking so beautiful. For a moment, I understood how all the New York snowbirds in South Beach felt, stunned by a strong cocktail of weather and view. But the pleasantries didn't last long. My mark turned into the entrance of a grand hotel with a name I couldn't pronounce.

Kita exited the car with a black satchel strapped across her back. She tossed her keys to the valet and marched through the high glass doors without glancing back. She was confident, with the air of someone who'd been here awhile and done this before.

What had Rudi Alvarez's office said? Something about accepting campaign donations for Latin America. He wasn't just hiding. This was business as usual for him and his staff. And I'd thought he fled Miami because of little old me. Talk about a hit to my ego.

After my experience with the bank manager, I couldn't handle a judgmental look from the valet guy, so I hid my scooter behind the road sign for the hotel. Road sign probably doesn't do it justice. It was built out of towering stone, had no less than three fountains of water spewing into the air at a time, and was highlighted with striking red and blue lighting. It was safe to say my little scooter was hidden behind the fanfare.

I rushed through the hotel lobby and didn't see Kita at the elevators. I cursed myself for missing her until I spotted the smart pony tail and satchel. She headed down a grand hall that opened up into shops on either side, like an indoor mall. Most were high end but some were kitschy and touristy. I followed the paper mage without difficulty as a sparse crowd filled between us.

Instead of shopping or heading to a hotel room, she exited at the end of the hall. I peeked through the glass doors. The sun beamed down on a large pool and several hot tubs lined with beach chairs. A long bar snaked around the building wall. A patio restaurant and cabanas provided ample lounge and table seating.

Kita Mariko walked straight to the bar and ordered a frozen Piña Colada. Not exactly the essence of evil, I know, but trust me on this one. She's a ruthless bitch.

A ruthless bitch on vacation. Relaxing. And planning to be here a while by the way she was nursing her drink.

I frowned. There was plenty of activity outside, but it wasn't packed by any means. My jeans and cowboy boots would stand out like a sore thumb in this island paradise. I made my way back to the shops and found a clothing store that wasn't a complete rip-off. Five minutes later I stashed my clothes in a locker, slung a towel over my shoulder to hide my face, and made my way poolside wearing a pair of trunks and knock-off sunglasses.

A woman in a lounger wearing an oversized hat undressed me with her eyes. I guess that was easy wearing only shorts, but I realized the flaw in my plan. My entire life—my old life—I hadn't had these sculpted muscles. My physique was a product of years of slave labor, so the stares were pretty new to me. The last thing I wanted was Kita Mariko checking me out.

The second flaw stemmed from the fact that the patio tiles were searing my bare feet and I was doing an undignified two-step. That was likely to attract even more attention.

I solved both problems by easing into a hot tub. It was fitted against the pool, its wall reaching high above the water surface, a tiny waterfall pouring from its basin into the much larger pool below. The higher vantage helped hide my face as I melted into the tub. The soles of my feet thanked me.

Talk about relaxing. Alone in a ten-by-ten bubbling spring of water, a cool breeze taking the edge off the blaring sun—Kita could nurse that Piña Colada all day for all I cared.

The old Cisco Suarez would've walked right up to her and demanded satisfaction. Hell, I would've done as much
last week
. But Project: Cayman was an information-gathering operation. Blue Sky was linked to Rudi, who was linked to the Covey, who had ties to properties and businesses in the Caymans. There was an interconnected web that needed working through, and moving too fast might get me caught up in it. Better to watch the spider work from a distance.

I chilled in the hot tub longer than Kita had been in the bank. After a while, taking a nap seemed a good proposition.

A splash of water jarred my eyes open. I hadn't actually been sleeping, but I'd been close. Two women sat in the hot tub across from me, trading glances and giggling. My eyes darted to Kita. Good. She was still there. Her drink was melted now but half full. I turned to the new company with a chagrinned look and tried to ease back down naturally. Maybe I'd played it off.

"Long day?" asked one of the women. She was blonde with inviting features: buxom and short, with natural buoyancy in a bikini top, if you know what I mean. Her friend looked eerily similar despite being a natural brunette. They were both pretty, all long eyelashes and charming smiles.

"You could say that," I answered after they noticed I'd been staring. "Let me guess. Sorority sisters?"

They both smiled. "Oh my God. Barf!" exclaimed the brunette. "Just sisters. My name's Gemma and this is Jade." Jade waved and Gemma slid across the tub toward me. "She's shy," she fake confided in a fake whisper.

Jade studied the water for a moment before meeting my gaze. "I just wait until I have something useful to say instead of blabbering every thought in my head. It's not the same thing."

I nodded. Gemma giggled and slid back to her side of the pool. "What are you staring at that woman for?"

I stiffened. "What?"

"That Asian woman. Is she your wife or something?"

Kita was still blissfully oblivious so I tried to look nonplussed. "I'm not married. I don't even know her."

Gemma turned to her sister and raised her eyebrow inquisitively.

"What?" I asked.

Gemma shrugged. "Too bad. I like married men the best."

Jade dropped her jaw and splashed water at her. "Gemma! Stop it."

The brunette winked at me. "But Jade likes them single."

The poor girl couldn't meet my eyes again. I didn't blame her. Gemma, the pimp.

Jade rolled her eyes and slid away from her sister. "Don't think bad of her. She always gets this way at weddings."

I chuckled politely. "Who's getting married?"

Jade slid closer. "My best friend. Gemma and I are bridesmaids."

"And single," added Gemma.

I made a sour face. "Well, I hate weddings and I forgot to pack a tux, so don't get any ideas."

Gemma laughed it off and flung her hair over her shoulder, but she stowed the conversation. I ran my hand through my hair and tried to act like a guy who wasn't stalking political money. Eventually, the two women whispered to each other and Gemma announced she'd be back and disappeared inside the hotel.

"I hope not too soon," said her sister.

"That's no way to talk about family."

Jade shrugged. "It's not like we're besties or anything."

"Gotcha. I guess I won't hold her against you."

That had come out wrong, but it wasn't an entirely uncomfortable thought. She laughed and reverted to quiet again. I had to say, I could appreciate her serene beauty. She didn't try too hard, like her sister. But I reminded myself that it only
looked
like I was on vacation.

A few more minutes passed. I was getting all pruny in the hot tub and wondered how much longer I was gonna need to tough it out. Kita had set aside her unfinished drink by now but didn't appear ready to leave.

"You do know her, don't you?" asked Jade.

It had been obvious I was looking this time. There was some kind of connection, though. Something about Jade's face made it tough to lie outright. "It's complicated."

She bit her lip to stifle a frown. Maybe she thought I was blowing her off.

"Look, it's nothing like that. I'm just keeping an eye on things. Like a bodyguard."

Jade's eyes lit up. "That sounds more exciting than a wedding." She turned to the bar and I realized I'd said too much.

I gently spun the woman around by the shoulders. Her skin was supple and pink. "Don't look at her. You're too obvious."

"Sorry. I'd make an awful bodyguard."

I stared at her cleavage bound by a white bikini top. "You'd certainly draw a lot of attention."

She blushed and sat lower in the tub. I didn't know what to say. Jade giggled for a second and leaned closer to me. "You realize you never told me your name."

Cisco Suarez, masterful flirt. "I'm Cisco," I answered, chiding myself for having more important things to deal with. At the moment.

"That's cute," she said. Then her eyes fixed on someone in the distance and she gasped.

Without pretext, Jade plunged her head underwater in my lap. I stood awkwardly but her nails clawed into my thighs and forced me down. I searched for the source of her alarm.

 

 

 

 

A group of four people dressed in business suits marched onto the patio. A South American man-and-woman team and two white guys. I knew by their dress that they were the people Kita was waiting for. A red-haired man nodded at the chief of staff as they passed before settling into a cabana with a low couch. Kita followed the group and sat with them. From my hot tub lookout, I could see half of the activity within the tent. One of the men waved at a passing waitress, who quickly attended them.

I went to slide over to the opposite side of the pool when I realized Jade was still underwater and latched onto me. I nudged her head with my hands and got a handful of blonde hair in my lap.

"I'm sorry!" chirped an old woman standing beside the hot tub. She blushed and turned away quickly as if she'd seen something going on that wasn't.

"No," I insisted. "It's not that. Come back."

She turned and scowled at me before stomping away. She was right. What I said made it weirder. Her husband remained watching and I thought there would be trouble. Instead he met me with an approving nod. "Take your time," he said. "You don't get those forever." Then he followed his wife back to their chairs.

I wiped my face and muttered, "You've gotta be kidding me." After a deep breath, I hooked my hands under Jade's arms and yanked her to the surface. I'd expected her to be panicking and out of breath, but she just blinked at me shyly.

"What were you doing down there?" I demanded.

She scanned the patio and landed on the cabana with the secretive meeting. I saw a flash of fear in her eyes, but she fought to hide it.

"Those people," I said. "You know those people."

She lowered into the water (only up to her neck this time) and smiled weakly. "It's complicated," she said, mimicking my voice.

She had jokes. "Who are they?"

"I'd rather not get into it."

"I want to know."

She huffed and swallowed, but gave in. "I don't know really. Powerful people with a lot of money and even more friends."

"How do you know the locals? I thought you were just on vacation."

"You could say we kinda ran into them last night, and I don't want a repeat performance."

Interesting. Maybe Jade could help me after all. "What can you tell me about them?"

She shrugged. "Not much. I don't think they're locals either, but they walk around this hotel making demands like they own everything." Her face darkened. "And
everyone
."

I turned to the cabana. I hated them already.

The Hispanic man and woman were married, if I had to guess. Black hair surrendering to white, skin beginning to wrinkle. They spoke calmly and confidently and watched each other's backs.

The two white guys were more standoffish, not as close but perhaps partners. One was rotund and dressed more casually, in a leisure jacket and polo. He had a mane of flowing red hair with a mustache and beard, thick but trimmed. The other was thinner and balding, somewhere north of forty. He had the nicest suit of the bunch, replete with pinstripes and large cufflinks on a bright-yellow button-up.

Kita Mariko sat between both groups, not seeming to favor either side. She opened her satchel and set down a laptop, and fielded questions from everyone as she pulled up various files.

A paper mage in the digital age. I wondered if she often lamented that.

That spawned a worse thought. If Kita was an animist, like me, then what were the others? It wasn't that the Covey didn't do business with regular folk. I'd already witnessed such endeavors—Rudi Alvarez himself was a shadow puppet who didn't know the first thing about spellcraft. So I hoped that these men didn't have hidden power besides the money they exuded, but I wasn't confident.

The discussion in the cabana became animated, and the red-haired man slammed a boisterous hand on the table. Everybody shook, including Kita Mariko. Including Jade sitting beside me in the hot tub. Her nails dug into my thighs again, and I knew the red-haired man was the one who had frightened her.

"My sister must be waiting for me," she said hurriedly. "Maybe I'll see you around."

I put my hand around her waist, trying to comfort her, trying to keep her from going. "You okay?"

Her wide hips felt good in my hand, and she nuzzled closer to me in an embrace. Her lips tickled my ear and whispered, "Don't worry about me." Her voice was confident but her eyes wavered. She climbed out of the hot tub, stole my towel to hide her face, and headed inside the hotel.

"Okay then," I said to myself, trying to slow my heartbeat.

I turned my attention back to the cabana. The activity had calmed. The South Americans passed a USB key to Kita and she plugged it into her laptop. There were phone checks and handshakes. Apparently the dispute was over and it was transaction time. Unfortunately, there were no briefcases of cash for me to score. Business in the modern age. Kita Mariko finished up with the USB drive and handed it to one of the white men, but the cabana cover prevented me from seeing who.

This was curious. Wasn't it normal for Rudi Alvarez to do the heavy lifting when it came to fund-raising? Politics were the last realm I'd claim to be an expert on, but this had all the makings of a back-door deal if I ever saw one. Then again, I'd found out the hard way that Kita Mariko was the brains of the Covey. The ghost of her own father had accused her of as much. Maybe she was the ringleader after all, working one new conspiracy after another. Part of me wanted that to be true. Then I could excuse her influence on Emily. Her own half sister had forced her to cooperate. I knew it to be true.

The meeting broke up and everyone went their separate ways. The balding man to the bar for another whiskey, neat. The South Americans returned inside and Kita Mariko followed suit. I wasn't sure who to tail but I didn't want to lose Kita again. It had been two weeks since we'd clashed—I didn't want her to vanish for another two. But then I remembered the paper trail. Evan's plea for evidence. It wasn't about
who
to follow, but
what
. The USB drive.

The red-haired man lounged in the cabana with a glass of red wine for some time more. He shuffled something in his jacket pocket. Neither him nor the man at the bar had bags or, from what I could tell, weapons. That didn't mean this would be easy, but I'd take what I could get.

With Kita gone, I was no longer concerned with being recognized, so I hopped out of the pool and retrieved another towel from the desk. When I returned, the red-haired man was still in the cabana alone, now on his phone.

I approached the bar and stood next to the balding man. "A
Cuba Libre
, please," I ordered. The bartender poured rum in a high glass. The man in the pinstripe suit didn't even glance at me. His tan hair was thinning but had strong enough comb-over skills that nobody could claim bald yet. How many more years that distinction would remain blurry was another question.

The bartender filled my glass with cola, topped it with a lime, and slid it my way. "Would you like to charge it to your room?" he asked.

"Cash." I stripped a bill from my wad and handed it to him. My cash reserves were running low but I wasn't dry just yet. I wondered what a night in a place like this would do to my balance.

I rested my back against the bar and sipped my highball, watching the man in the cabana from a closer vantage. He had a strong nose and serious eyes. I pegged him in his mid forties but not due to wrinkles or graying. He simply had the air of a man who'd been around. Maybe that meant he was dangerous.

"A last one," ordered the man in the pinstripe suit. "For the road." The bartender poured another whiskey and produced the check on request. The man walked it over to the cabana and dropped it on the coffee table. Between some murmuring, they closed the curtains of the cabana.

I didn't like it. After meeting with shady South Americans and a representative of a dirty Miami politician, why the need for privacy now? I took a swig of my drink while deciding my course of action. Fortunately, the men emerged from the cabana before I made a dumb move. Instead of heading into the hotel, though, they rounded the building corner along an outside walkway. Street access from the outside.

I was sure my cover was still intact. If Kita had seen me on her tail, she wouldn't have led me here. No one else knew who I was. Following them down that side path might be announcing myself. I wondered if they were spooked already, but shady deals require shady practices. Unexpected movements were probably standard fare with these guys.

I decided to follow in my bare feet, navigated past beach chairs and a railing, and hurried into a jog. The afternoon on the swanky patio was nice, but I was outta here.

Or so I had thought. As soon as I slipped around the corner, the balding man in the pinstripe suit was standing in my way. I jerked to a stop and peered over his shoulder, watching his partner slip away.

"Excuse me," said the well-dressed man, holding his arms to block my path.

I bet the red-haired man had the USB drive. I shoved the man in pinstripes aside to brush past him, a perk of my strong build. That was the plan, anyway, until a shockwave of lightning crackled between his fingers as they planted on my chest.

I launched backward and hit the dirt, tasting blood in my mouth. My reaction was measured, rolling away onto my knees and facing the threat, but not skippy to the idea of waging a magical battle twenty feet from fat retirees on vacation. Good thing our little path wasn't crowded.

"I'm truly sorry about that," said the man, brushing his hands on his jacket. "Think of that as a warning shot across the bow. Just to get your attention."

I clenched my jaw and rose. My attention? He was another animist. He had it.