Part 15 (1/2)

”What do you mean weird?”

I told her about the battery heating up and the backlights coming on when I wasn't using it.

”Mine's been doing the same thing lately, so it must be like you said, software upgrades.”

”Do I get to see you tonight?”

”I'd say that all depends on whether or not you can get the blindfold off.”

I pulled into the garage of the Plaza at Brickell, embarra.s.sed at driving my ancient Sally among the residents' expensive cars. Mari would say that's my hang-up, and that no one cares what I drive as long as I drive it fast enough. Then she'd encourage me to trade it in on something new that would last me through a bankruptcy.

To my great annoyance, a car was already parked next to Mari's Porsche in her guest s.p.a.ce, a silver Mercedes SLK. Mari had warned me about this. Some visitors park wherever they want, she said, knowing full well a tow truck can't navigate the sharp turns and concrete pillars. I managed to find an unmarked visitor s.p.a.ce at the far end of the garage, and resisted the urge to accidentally write something obscene in lipstick on the winds.h.i.+eld of the SLK.

As I rode the elevator to the forty-ninth floor, I thought about Mari's exercise regimen of climbing these stairs three times a week. I'd almost pa.s.sed out last night climbing a third as high, but then I'd been carrying a fifteen-pound sack of purring fur. After feeling firsthand what stair climbing had done for Mari's b.u.t.t muscles, there was no denying its merits and I was tempted to make it part of my routine.

Since I hadn't seen Mari last night, I was ready to jump her bones the second she opened the door. Instead she met me in the hallway, pulling the door behind her so it was open only a crack.

”I have company...Delores is here.”

Not something I wanted to hear. Ever.

”She stopped by out of the blue. I kind of had a feeling she would because I haven't returned any of her calls.”

Didn't want to hear that either, since it meant Mari had practically baited her into showing up instead of just calling her back and telling her to p.i.s.s up a rope.

”What does she want?” I distinctly remembered her saying one of her friends from the Wallcast thought Delores wanted to go out with her again.

”Just to talk, she says. Apparently she got a conscience all of a sudden and feels bad about what she did.”

I felt bad about what she was doing now, and regretted my restraint with the lipstick. ”I should go then.”

”I'm sorry, Daphne, but I need to get this over with so she'll leave me alone.” She had the decency to look as though she felt guilty. ”I asked her to walk over to Truluck's for dinner because I don't want her here. I promise I'll tell her not to come back again.”

”You don't have to promise me anything. We're all adults.” The words were mature but the tone left a lot to be desired. I was irritated and not very good at hiding it. Especially since she'd apparently made dinner plans with Delores without even asking me if she could break our date. Surely it had occurred to her that pulling me into the room and dipping me for a pa.s.sionate kiss would send Delores an unmistakable message to get lost.

Unless that wasn't the message she wanted to send.

Until now, I'd never realized I had a jealous streak. Emily's tryst had left me so hurt and angry that I never even considered trying to win her back. But Mari...I wanted Mari. I didn't want her wrestling with nostalgic memories of nights she'd shared with Delores, or second-guessing how easily she'd given up their dreams when she dumped all her junk on the Jet Ski.

”Look, Daphne. I haven't even spoken to her once since I kicked her out. There could be a lot at stake for me here. I know for a fact she downloaded files on at least a dozen of my clients, and if we can just have one civil conversation, I might be able to convince her to come clean. I feel like it's my only chance. I have to try.”

Either it was true or she was the best actor in the world, because her plaintive voice left me no choice but to believe her. That didn't mean I had to like it.

”Fine,” I grunted. ”I'm sure I can find something else to do tonight.”

”Please don't be mad.” She tugged both of my wrists until I was in a full embrace. ”I thought I made it pretty clear the other night that I'm crazy about you.”

No fair. ”Can I help it if I want you to prove it every night?”

She covered my pouty lips with her smug ones and pressed her hips into mine. Funny how arousal trumps irritation. Every time.

”Do you want me to call you later?” she asked when we came up for air.

I could show a little understanding given the circ.u.mstances, but I was too proud to let her think I'd be waiting by the phone all night. ”No, that's all right. I'd rather have you on a night when I can get your undivided attention.”

”I promise to give it to you.”

She kissed me again and I left feeling like I'd made the best of a bad situation. I even managed to walk past the SLK without kicking out one of the headlights.

By the time I reached my building my mood had mildly improved. The sight of Edith's caved-in front b.u.mper cracked me up as I pulled into my marked s.p.a.ce. It wasn't until I got out that I noticed the vehicle next to hers-a black Chevy Suburban like the one I'd been seeing all over Miami. Paranoia or not, that was an incredible coincidence.

A woman's hand caught the elevator door as it started to close, a strong hand with a sure grip. The rest of her looked equally confident-obviously Hispanic, tall and straight with smart black slacks, a crisp blue s.h.i.+rt and a gray blazer-the whole of which set off my gaydar like a four-alarm fire. The moment I realized that, I recalled where I'd seen her before...at LIV, where she'd been watching Mari and me dance, and where she'd gotten into the black SUV.

My floor was already lit up and she pressed sixteen, which had me wracking my brain to figure out which one of my neighbors up there entertained lesbian friends at night.

But then she got off when I did and all the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

”Daphne Maddox?”

”Who's asking?”

She unb.u.t.toned her blazer-revealing a badge and gun that were clipped to her waist. ”Special Agent Elena Diaz, of the United States Internal Revenue Service.”

Chapter Seventeen.

Emily Jenko was behind this. I'd bet a whole paycheck on it.

I took every imaginable tax deduction allowed but I could justify each one and I'd even saved the d.a.m.n receipts! I had to, because my father was a CPA and he'd done my taxes since I was sixteen, when I'd started working summers at the recreation center. I didn't have any income other than my salary at the foundation, though Dad had gifted me the maximum contribution to a Roth IRA for the last few years. That couldn't have been illegal or he wouldn't have done it.

”May I come in?”

”What's this about?”

”I'd rather talk inside if you don't mind.”

It wasn't as if I had a whole lot of choice. s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around with the IRS is in the same category of Stupid as joking about a bomb in your underpants on your way through airport security.

That didn't mean I had to fix her tea. I closed the door and stood my ground in the entryway. ”Okay, now tell me what this is about.”

It's pretty hard to intimidate someone who's carrying a gun. She walked right past me into the living room, looking around as if she intended to buy the place.

Not that I have anything against selling.

”How well do you know Maribel Tirado Leon?”