Motor Mouth (Alex Barnaby 2)

I smiled back at him and shoved him away. “You’re right, but it’s still a maybe.”

When we got to the kitchen, Hooker filled a bowl with water for Beans. Beans put his face into it and did a lot of loud slurping. The water slopped over the sides when he drank, and when he picked his head up, the water leaked out of his mouth and dripped off his lips.

I mopped up the water with paper towels while Hooker called Ray Huevo.

“I’m in town,” Hooker said. “Do you want to talk?”

There was some negotiation and Hooker hung up.

“I’m meeting him on the beach in a half hour,” Hooker said. “At Lincoln Road. I declined on a boat meeting. I didn’t want to get thrown off his boat again. And this meeting is between Ray and me. I want you and Beans to stay here.”

“And why is that?”

“I don’t trust Ray. I don’t want to put you in jeopardy.”

“I appreciate the thought, but there’s no way you’re going without me. We’re in this together. And suppose someone gets the crap beat out of them? You think I want to miss that?”

“My fear is that it might be me,” Hooker said.

The compromise was that we left Beans in Felicia’s house and I went with Hooker. Hooker had stripped down to a T-shirt and jeans when we arrived in Miami. I’d been left with jeans and a long-sleeved turtleneck, making me a tad conspicuous on South Beach. You could be naked on South Beach and not cause a ripple of excitement. A turtleneck shouted tourist, fresh off the plane. Hooker parked the rental on the street, and I popped into a shop and swapped my turtleneck for a tank top.

The Ritz-Carlton sits at the end of Lincoln Road, and a pretty bricked footpath gently undulates alongside the hotel, giving beach access to all. We took the footpath and walked out onto the hard-packed sand. It was a breathtaking blue-sky day in Miami. Eighty degrees with a gentle breeze. The beach is white sand and wide here. The Ritz had its royal blue beach chairs out in orderly rows. Plus a row of cabanas. There were some bronzed and oiled-up bodies on the lounges. Attendants moved from body to body, serving drinks, handing out towels. The ocean rolled in on foamy waves. No one was swimming.

I looked over Hooker’s shoulder and saw three men step off the footpath onto the sand. Ray Huevo, Rodriguez, and Lucca. Rodriguez was on crutches. He had a Band-Aid across his nose and two black eyes. Lucca’s six-pack bruise was turning green. Ray Huevo looked like a billion dollars.

Huevo moved toward us. Rodriguez and Lucca stayed behind.

“How’s his knee?” I asked Huevo.

“He’ll live.” He glanced back at Rodriguez. “For a while.”

Hooker and I exchanged a look that said yikes.

“For security purposes, I would prefer this conversation was one-on-one,” Huevo said.

I nodded agreement, and Hooker and Huevo walked away from me. They stood at the water’s edge, their conversation lost in the surf. After a couple minutes, they turned and walked back.

Huevo inclined his head when he passed me. “I’ll have positions open in security if you’re interested in career advancement.”

I looked at Hooker. “What did he mean by that?”

“He’s not happy with Rodriguez and Lucca. They keep killing people. And even worse, they keep getting beat up by a girl.”

“That would be me.”

“Yeah. So he wants to sacrifice them for the chip we found in the gearshift knob. He says Lucca and Rodriguez are a liability. If we give Ray the chip, he’ll turn Lucca and Rodriguez over to the police, and he’ll pretend the hauler was never stolen.”

“Hard to believe the chip is that valuable. Especially now that Oscar is out of the picture. Ray can pretty much do whatever he wants.”

Hooker shrugged. “That’s what he said. And as an act of trust, he’s going to turn Rodriguez and Lucca in before we give him the chip.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Not entirely. He has Gobbles.” Hooker handed me a photo of Gobbles standing with his hands tied behind his back, not looking happy, Rodriguez on one side, Lucca on the other. “We get Gobbles back when Ray gets the chip and verifies its authenticity.”

“We should never have let Gobbles go off on his own.”

“Hindsight,” Hooker said. “Anyway, we get him back when we give Ray the chip.” Hooker nuzzled my neck and kissed me behind the ear. “I think we should celebrate.”