Dog Gone And Dead Page 6

  “Well, you won’t be working as a consultant with my unit or any kind of consultant, Miss Dog Lady.”

  By now, Jiff had picked up the drives to hand them to Mike. I was moving from mentally aiming at his head to actually throwing them at his head.

  “The data on those drives are on a need to know basis, so we won’t need to consult you on that either. What did the sister want from you?” Mike asked.

  “She didn’t want anything from us,” I said.

  “What did you tell her?” he asked and took a step closer to me.

  “That’s on a need to know basis,” I said and walked over to the door.

  “She asked if she could surrender the dog to Brandy and she did,” Jiff answered. He played much better in this sandbox.

  “We have a signed document allowing her to do that, and she had a legal document giving her that right. Then she left,” I said to him.

  “I’m curious how she knew where to find us?” Jiff said.

  “She mention the drives?” Mike asked ignoring Jiff’s question moving into my personal space.

  I took a tiny step closer to him, waited until I saw him blink, waited a few more seconds, and then asked, “Why would she? It was her sister’s dog.”

  He took a small step back.

  I turned, walked to the door, opened it wide, and said, “Thanks for coming to pick these up.” As soon as I didn’t think I’d actually hit him closing the door, I let it slam.

  Jiff just looked at me. “It might not be a good idea to alienate him.”

  “We did him a favor, several actually, so he should be worrying about alienating us. He’s rude.”

  “He didn’t answer either of us when we asked how Ashley knew how to find us. Those two guys knew the dog was with Daniel and they could have seen us. I don’t think those goons were doing any Good Samaritan work, like finding the dog to return to the owner. I think they were looking for the dog to return to Abby’s ex-husband,” I said and put both hands on top my head interlocking my fingers.

  “Now what do you want to do?” he asked me smiling.

  “I think we need a distraction and something to take our mind off this for a while,” I said and wrapped my arms around his waist. “I want to go swimming, and this evening, I want to go to that Tiki Bar.”

  Jiff and I headed to Destin, home of the Tiki hut bar advertised on the shirt the guy in the Facebook picture was wearing with Ashley in the convertible. Our plan was to enjoy the sunset view and to covertly wait and see if the two guys who beat up Daniel showed up. Not a great plan, I must admit. We had absolutely no expectation for success, but we could enjoy a drink or two and sit with a waterfront view while we watched the world go by.

  I hoped doing something that was far from the Daniel, Ashley, Rascal, and the dead woman would allow my separate thoughts flow around and find another thought to associate with.

  We found seats at the big square bar that sat in the middle of all things Tiki, officially known as Big Al’s World Famous Tiki Hut Bar and Restaurant. It overlooked the Gulf of Mexico in Destin. That was all on the sign that took up the entire front of the building. Who knew Destin had anything world famous, let alone someone named Big Al and his Tiki bar?

  I loved the place immediately even if it hadn’t been world famous. It was my kind of beach bar. It was an open-air bar with several tables both bar height and dining height, a stage for a band, dance floor and a gift shop. The entire place, bar area, restaurant, dance floor, and stage, was covered in a giant—you guessed it—a big Tiki hut roof. The bar was a short ride from any boat slip to open water. Of course, open water was right at the Tiki Hut’s back door. The bar and restaurant looked to be about thirty steps up from the pier level where all the boats docked.

  “Boy, this place is great,” Jiff said, “even if we are on a quasi-stakeout.”

  Every size and type of watercraft was going in and out of the marina. It was non-stop entertainment with every kind of boat one could imagine and then some.

  A big yellow boat painted like a banana on each side came into view from the Gulf and started to put-put in the no wake zone heading to a slip which was right down in front of Big Al’s. The slip had a wooden archway and header on it that read, RIDE BIG AL’S WORLD FAMOUS BANANA BOAT!

  I was starting to see a trend here and I would have bet the farm that the owner of the world-famous bar also owned the world-famous banana boat. When it finally docked, and the lines held it secure in the slip, a deckhand opened the gangplanks for the visitors to exit. About fifty people with various stages of sunburn, spilled off and came right up the stairs to the Tiki Hut.

  “The boat parade in and out of this harbor was non-stop. The marina is way bigger than it looks,” I said and Jiff nodded his agreement.

  “Like that Banana Boat, objects are closer than they appear,” Jiff teased.

  We ordered a wine for me and beer for Jiff and settled into our two places at the bar. The nosiness of the other bar patrons checking us out had worn off by the time our drinks arrived. I showed the Facebook photo of Abigale in the convertible to the bartender asking, “Do you know this gal? Is this the girl who was in the paper this morning?”

  She shook her head no, but in a lowered voice as she leaned across the bar to place a cocktail napkin under each drink and said, “Yep. That was her sister’s photo in the paper this morning. Ashley Westlake was murdered on the beach yesterday.”

  The bartender moved non-stop, poured several beers from the different taps, filled a waiter’s tray, rang it up on a register. She waived over the waiter whose order she filled. He walked by, left two twenty-dollar bills and she rang it up and left the change on his tray. He picked it up without checking anything on his way back past the bar.

  This was multi-tasking at its best. She looked busy, and it didn’t look like she had much time for chit chatting.

  “I thought the paper said her name was Abigale Westlake,” I said when she came back to us to see if we needed another round. I had a confused look on my face.

  She took her time finding the right bottle of wine to refill my glass and refill Jiff’s beer while she said to us, “She had a sister named Abigail. I knew them both. Ashley came back here after school. Abby stayed in New York. They went to school together for fashion design,” she said watching the door from the parking lot. She waved over a waiter and said, “These two people would like a table on the rail to watch the sunset. I’ll move their tab with them.”

  I realized she meant us when he picked up our drinks and put them on his tray and said, “Follow me.” She gave me a wide-eyed look that suggested I follow the waiter. When the waiter left with our drinks in the direction she nodded, she leaned over the bar to wipe our area clean saying to me, “I’ll be right over to take your order.”

  As Jiff followed the waiter to the table, I bent down to pick up my purse from the floor. When I stood up, two men were waiting for me to leave so they could claim our seats at the bar. One of them had a large homemade or prison tattoo in the shape of an upside-down U on his forearm. They climbed in the seats as I turned my back away from them.

  I waved at Jiff when he looked around I gave him the signal I used to tell him I’m going to the ladies’ room. I make a motion like I’m putting on invisible lipstick. He nodded that he saw me. Instead, I went to the world-famous gift shop just inside the entrance. I bought each of us a straw, fedora-style hat and the ugliest beach shirt for Jiff I knew he would never buy for himself.

  Those guys didn’t recognize me from the night they beat up Daniel, but I thought they might recognize Jiff. He always looked polished and neat, even in topsiders. The hat and shirt would make him blend in with the people who were pouring off the Banana Boat downstairs. He needed a sunburn to make his cover one hundred percent. Now we would look like every other couple in the place.

  I hurried back to the table and gave him what I bought saying, “Put this on. I think that’s the two guys from the pier incident who just came in and took ou
r seats at the bar. I got you a shirt you can put on over the one you’re wearing. You’ll look a little Magnum PI with the hat and Hawaiian shirt, like all the other tourists in here. Keep your sunglasses on and move to that chair.” I nodded to the chair with his back to the bar.

  At the table I took the seat that faced the door, the bar, and looked into the marina. The Gulf of Mexico was at my back. I made Jiff move, so he faced the Gulf with his back to where the two guys were sitting. I could keep an eye on them without looking like I was watching them.

  We started to look at the menus the waiter left with us. Jiff thought we might need something to munch on. We needed to compensate for the multiple drinks we might be having in order to get some face time with the bartender to ask more questions.

  The band meandered in and began setting up and doing some sound tests. The bartender came over with two more drinks for us and put them on our table. She had a pad and pen with her like she was going to take our order.

  “If either of those guys look around over here, let me know and I’ll have to leave,” she said. “You two look like the nice couple that found Ashley on the beach.”

  “We are, but how would you know that?” Jiff asked.

  “The paper said a nice couple and my sister is the woman cop that took your information at the scene. She described you both, said you’re a private detective from New Orleans and this guy is a criminal attorney and your boyfriend. You’re kinda hard to miss,” she said and made a face at Jiff. Since I hadn’t seen her smile at anyone, I guessed this was the closest she came to getting friendly.

  “Wow, small world here and news travels fast,” Jiff said.

  “You have no idea,” our bartender, now our waitress, said.

  “We think those two guys jumped our friend the other night,” I nodded to the two at the bar. “Our friend Daniel found Rascal, and those gumballs tried to take your friend, the dead girl’s dog,” I said. I kept my sunglasses on in case those guys turned around.

  “Rascal was Abby’s dog. I don’t know why Ashley would have been walking him unless Abby asked her to. Abby took advantage of Ashley every chance she got, and Ashley let her.”

  “Did you know Abby just got back here on Thursday and was staying with Ashley?” I asked.

  “No, but it doesn’t surprise me. Abby always had problems, and she called Ashley to listen to them or bail her out. Those two guys are the type of problems that Abby always had,” she said and started to wipe off our table and clear the empty glasses.

  “Have you seen them before?” I asked.

  “They came in here late last night. They started drinking shots. A lot of shots. I’ve been doing this long enough to know those two scare me and I don’t want anything to do with them. I especially don’t want to cross them. Last night they asked me where the Destin marina was. I told them you’re sitting in it. They’re idiots,” she said putting cocktail napkins, then setting our drinks down.

  “But, I get the impression they are very mean idiots,” I said.

  “The one with the long hair kept playing with a plastic marker. It looked like it had a combination code to a locker on it,” she said.

  “Did you see what it was to?” Jiff asked her tapping his finger on the table like he was trying to make up his mind.

  “They sat at the bar and drank shots. The short one ragged on him to put it back in his pocket. I found it under the money they paid when they left. They were both too drunk to know they dropped it when they stumbled out of here,” she said. It was a key on a round plastic ring like airport lockers use. It said DHM108. It looked like a key to a storage locker. “Just now I gave it back to them and said someone found it on the bar after they left. It was in the lost and found drawer behind the bar.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Jiff asked.

  “Telling you what?” She started jotting some things down on the pad on the tray. “The grilled fish fingers are Grouper, a good choice.”

  “There are cameras all over this place,” she said writing on her menu pad. “I don’t want anyone thinking I found something I shouldn’t have found and kept it. Not good for anyone’s longevity.”

  “They’ve ordered those shots and asked me if I was working last night. They can’t even remember who served them. I said I was here working tables,” she said, head down, writing. When she looked up, she tapped on the menu in Jiff’s hand like she was referring to something. “Beverly Frederick is the lady cop you met. She liked you and you should give anything you find to her, and not that idiot, who thinks he’s fooling everyone with that Beach Patrol disguise. He’ll take it and any credit for whatever it leads to. If you find something, loop Beverly in is all I ask.”

  “My name is Brandy, and this is Jiff,” I said.

  “Forgive me if I don’t shake. I don’t’ want anyone thinking I know you. I’m your server, Jess,” she nodded and wrote something down on her order pad. “I’m ordering you two a couple of appetizers, on me,” she said softly and then in a normal voice, she added, “That will be right out.” She left to turn in whatever she ordered for us and went back to the bar.

  “Well, what do you make of that?” Jiff asked leaning into me and holding my hand.

  “Maybe she wants a big tip,” I said smiling at him. “I think she really knows more than what she’s telling us. This is a small community, and it’s the off season. Everyone seems to know or see what goes on here,” I said. “If they don’t, they know someone who does.”

  “Like home.”

  “I think this place is a lot smaller and more ‘in your business’ than what we’re used to in New Orleans,” I said. “If Jess gives this info to her friend, I could see how Magic Mike would bulldoze her and take credit.”

  “Or maybe it would bring a lot of attention to Jess working here at the World Famous Tiki Bar. She probably can’t afford to lose her job,” Jiff said. He polished off his second beer. “When she brings our food, let’s get another round. It might keep her coming back with more info.”

  “If it’s known she’s conspiring with or snitching to the police, it might get the attention of someone here. I’m not saying it about this one, but bars are notorious for being involved in shady stuff. They don’t want to bring the cops around unnecessarily,” I said.

  “Well, we need to hear what else this gal can tell us before we split,” he started waving at Jess for another round.

  “Slow down there, cowboy. I don’t want to carry you home. She’ll be back when our food is ready. We don’t want to rush her,” I said taking the hand he had raised and kissing it.

  “Didn’t you say that Abby was in the car with someone wearing a shirt advertising this place? Maybe he works here. Let’s ask Jess when she brings our food,” Jiff said.

  We waited for our order and enjoyed the sunset while sunburned people from the Banana Boat made their way up the stairs from the pier. They filled up every vacant table and started a wait list with the hostess near the gift shop entrance. I could see Jess working like a fiend at the bar. The two goons were ordering shots and slamming them back.

  A burly guy with a bald head, tattoos from his neck to his wrists on both arms, and his wallet chained to his belt loop came from somewhere behind the stage. He took over making drinks. Jess picked up her order pad and went to check on orders in the kitchen. I saw the big bald-headed guy shake his head to the two raising their hands for another round.

  A second big muscular guy with a mullet haircut and wearing a T-shirt that looked spray painted on him with the world-famous logo and SECURITY in large letters across the back came from behind the stage. He stood behind the two at the bar. When the burly bartender gave them their change, they stood up with an attitude until they realized they were a head shorter than both of the Tiki workers. The Tiki security guy escorted them out to the parking lot.

  “I think there is an office with security monitors behind that stage,” I said to Jiff after I described what was happening.

  “Don’t be obv
ious, but Jess was right. There are cameras all over this place. Check out the overhead beams strung with lights. There’s a camera that looks a lot like a light every few feet. I bet Big Al doesn’t have much theft here,” Jiff said. “I bet it’s easy to pull them down with the lights when he has to bug outta here for storms too.”

  “That’s smart of Big Al to put so many cameras in his restaurant. Must be why he’s world famous,” I said smiling.

  With the restaurant and bar packed, Jess didn’t get back to our table but one more time. Other waiters were offering to take orders, but we waved them off. She came with our food and another round of drinks. When I asked her about the guy in the car with Ashley on Facebook she said, “That guy owns this place. He was too rough for Ashley.

  “That’s Abby in that picture she posted on Ashley’s page. Abby came down here every two months or so, supposedly to work with Ashley on the fashion business that Ashley did all the design on. Instead, she got a spray tan and hit this place every night without her wedding ring.

  “Abby used to date Big Al in high school, back when everyone used to call him Flashpole. That’s how I know all of them. He’s also chummy with good ole Magic Mike. It’s dangerous knowing some of these people. It was for Ashley having a sister like Abby.”

  “But that’s Abby we found on the beach,” Jiff started to say.

  “Look harder,” she said softly. After she finished clearing our table of food, plates and glasses, she added loudly, “Thank you, come again,” as she picked up a generous tip Jiff left with the bill.

  Chapter Nine

  Jiff and I took a stroll along the pier after paying the check at the Tiki Hut. What Jess said had me mentally going over everything I thought we knew. If cameras were everywhere Jiff, and I had a silent understanding not to speak about anything we just heard in public. We would talk in the car or back at the condo. The smell of fresh fish was stronger on the pier as we walked along. It had occasionally wafted up to our table while we sat in the restaurant. We passed the Banana Boat and watched it being cleaned for the next day’s sail. There was a continuous line of party boats bringing in day trippers who had gone out to catch a big one on vacation. Workers were hosing down boats and cleaning fish.