Authors: S.D. Thames
Joggers running by gave me stares. I was about to give up, or at least circle the block, when the iron gate rose. A moment later, the Range Rover peeked its boxy nose out and turned left. I could tell the driver was female, with long curly hair, but that was it. The gate lowered a few degrees, but before it reached its nadir, it started rising again.
A black SL550 pulled to the end of the drive. It stopped, as though the driver didn’t know whether to turn left or right. After a moment of hesitation, it turned left, in my direction.
We were in business.
The driver was on the phone, but the shade of the banyan tree kept me from seeing his face. I figured it had to be Brian. I let him get down the street, and then I pulled out, did a U-turn, and headed in his direction.
I’d been in Miami long enough to realize he was driving toward downtown. I did my best to stay a few cars behind without being seen. Blare didn’t strike me as the type who would be too cognizant of being followed, but I wanted to be as cautious as possible.
We made a few turns, and it was clear he wasn’t driving back to his condo. A few more turns, and we crossed a bridge. A copper sign with aqua dots welcomed us to South Beach.
Dangerous distractions jogged on both sides of the road in tight shorts and sport bras. The road narrowed, and cut through boulevards of restaurants and bars. He made a turn and parked. I drove by, and slowed enough to get a picture of where he was entering. It looked like it was his turn to stop for brunch.
I drove down the street and parked, waited a few minutes, and then exited the car. It was about noon by then, and the salty air was swirling around, providing smooth trails for egrets and ibises to sail through in the sky overhead. As I approached the restaurant I’d seen Blare enter, I spotted him on the front patio, facing a blonde sporting South Beach’s finest in cosmetic surgery. They were both laughing at something, and he topped off her glass with sparkling water. I walked by them, paused, and turned back around.
Here goes nothing
, I told myself.
“Hey, Brian, that you?” I asked.
They both looked at me. She looked me up and down, but he was studying my face.
“Hey, man,” he said, squinting with concentration. “I know you?”
I remembered what Angie had said Sunday morning about being at the Hyde Park cafe the night before. I was banking that Blare had been there too. “Yeah, I’m Myles Potter. Remember, last Saturday, the Hyde Park Café?”
He looked over the railing separating us and glanced down at my new suede loafers. “Hyde Park Café?”
“Yeah, in Tampa.”
“Man, that was just last week.” He looked to the blonde across from him, who was now waiting for an introduction.
“Time flies, right? You remember me?” He appeared to be scrubbing the recesses of his memory pretty well, and coming up empty. “I work with Pilka and Scalzo.” Something resembling recognition or fear flashed over his face. I didn’t want to push it yet, but why not. “Did you hear about Scalzo?”
“Who’s that?” the blonde asked him. “And who’s he?”
He coughed and smiled at his companion.
Then he asked me, “So how long you going to be in town?” He threw the blonde a quick conciliatory smile. “Sorry, just some business,” he assured her.
She seemed amused by it, but I sensed he had questions to ask me, probably about Scalzo—questions he didn’t want to ask in present company. “Not long. I’m sorry to interrupt. Good to see you, man.” I started walking away.
In the reflection of the restaurant window, I could see that he’d stood up to stop me. I didn’t slow down. I just waited for him to call.
He did. “Want to get lunch?” he yelled at me.
I turned. “Aren’t you eating now?”
“Let’s just catch up, then.”
No reason to play too hard to get. “Name the place. And keep in mind I don’t have much time.”
We settled on the Starbucks where I’d scoped out his building earlier that morning. I couldn’t stomach the thought of another red-eye, so I got an iced latte and a vanilla bean scone, with the hope that the latter would make me thirsty enough to down a little more caffeine. Blare sat down with a cold green drink.
“You know, man, I gotta be honest with you. I remember going to that club Saturday night, but I don’t remember leaving. And I don’t remember much else, actually.” He took a sip and studied me. “But you definitely look familiar.”
At least I didn’t look
too
familiar. “Yeah, we were all pretty messed up that night. Chad, and those girls he had.”
He was nodding hard, and I could tell some of those memories made him uncomfortable.
“So you heard?” I asked.
“About Scalzo?” He nodded as his eyes doubled in size. “Blew my mind, man. I saw him that night, you know, the night he was killed? We were supposed to fly to LA Monday night to meet some guys I introduced him to.”
I shook my head in mock disbelief. “Hard to believe—one day you’re on top of the world…”
He nodded along. “Yeah, and the next day, someone blows your brains out.”
“So how’d you find out about it?” I asked.
“I’d rather not say.” He tensed, swallowed hard.
“No problem,” I said, although it was.
He went back to studying me. “So what the hell you doing here, anyway?”
“I took the weekend off. My little brother’s going to school here. I’m helping move him in at UM. He had some kind of orientation this morning, so I thought I’d check out South Beach.”
“Your kid brother?”
I nodded.
“No shit? I go to UM. I’m finally in my last year. Shit, it only took me six years. My parents are going nuts.”
I grinned. “Well, at least you’re making money in the process. Why even go to school? You’re already killing it.”
“Yeah, well, don’t tell my parents that.” He started laughing. “I have a 4.0 in Business Administration. I finish it that way, my old man’s going to give me that condo. He finds out about my ventures, he might cut me off.”
Poor baby
, I thought. “You know, Chad told me a little about that venture you guys were pursuing. What’s going to happen with that now?”
“That’s a good question. Say, what’d you say you did for Scalzo again?”
“I guess you could say I do security. I was paid to keep an eye on him and Pilka.”
“No offense, but what happened Sunday night, then?”
I sighed. “I was on Pilka duty. You know him?”
He shook his head. “Just heard of him. I knew Chad was ready to move on from him. That’s about it.”
“Anyone been around asking questions about Chad’s death?”
“When?” He seemed taken aback by the question.
“Anyone, anytime since he died?”
He shook his head while he seemed to try hard to remember. “No, I haven’t heard from anyone.”
“Well, how did you find out?”
“Why you asking? You think I’m in trouble?”
“I don’t think so, but I want to make sure. Besides, the cops already found the killer, and he’s already dead.”
He cocked his head, happy with that news. “Really?”
I nodded. “That’s the word. The name Don Alexi mean anything to you?”
The expression on his face told me he knew him all right, and there was more to it than a casual acquaintance. “Don Alexi, you said?”
“That’s right. How’d you know him?”
“I didn’t, at least until this week.”
“What do you mean?”
He finally returned his eyes to mine. It seemed everything made sense to him now. “Don Alexi was the guy who told me about Scalzo.”
“When, this week?”
He nodded. “Yeah, he called me and told me Scalzo was out of the picture now. Said it was bound to happen, as many guys as he’d crossed, and that he spoke with Mr. Pilka and was ready, willing, and able—and those were his exact words, ‘ready, willing, and able’—to continue working with me the way Chad was.”
“Huh. What do you think about that?”
“First, I wondered how the hell he got my number. I was also surprised by how much he knew about Chad’s business.”
It did seem that Alexi had a lot of access to Scalzo’s business. It made me think of Kara, and how Alexi had planted her to work for Wilcox.
“So this Alexi guy, you sure he’s dead?”
“Yep, the cops say he blew his brains out the same day they were going to make the arrest.”
He seemed to breathe easier with this news. “How are you so sure about all this?”
I grinned. “Let’s just say I have connections, and I’ve been cooperating with the right people at TPD.”
He grinned back. Then he seemed to study me a bit longer, looked me up and down. “You are a big dude. You ex-military?”
I nodded. “Seven years.”
“Damn, I bet you can fuck some shit up.”
“I guess you could say that.”
“You know, I could really use someone like you. You ever think about relocating here?”
I took a sip from my latte. “Funny you should say that. With little Jimmy coming down here, I
have
given it some thought.”
“Well, let me give you my number. You think about it. You could make a killing down here, and have a good time doing it. You got any plans tonight?”
“Yeah, I’m taking my little brother out when his orientation’s over.”
“Well, what about after that? What’d you say we party then?”
I gave him a nice grin, but it took everything I had not to slug him. “I think that’d be a great idea.”
He handed me his business card, the one for BBBJ Productions. I read it aloud. He laughed. “That’s a play on my name and a blowjob.”
“Got it.” I gave him my best chuckle. “So, you’re a full-blown producer now?”
“I guess you could say that. I’ve made some good stuff right here in my condo. Chad did too, that’s for sure. He had a good idea for talent, and was good at filming.”
“So, who were the guys in LA?”
“Distribution. Distribution’s key.”
“I see.”
He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot. “There’s a ton to be made in the movies like that, but what I was teaching Chad, there’s just as much money in escorting once those girls appear in some movies. A girl can triple her rate overnight just by having a few movies out. Not sure why, but guys love banging someone who’s done porn.”
I was getting a better sense of how Chad had planned on using Angie. “I see.”
“I take care of my girls, though. And I like to protect them whenever I can.”
“You sound like a great guy.”
“And that’s where you’d come in. Like I said, I could really use someone like you.”
“Well, I’ll definitely think about.”
“Yeah, just let me know tonight. What about your brother? He a badass like you?”
I shook my head. “Nah, not really.”
“No worries, we’ll still take care of him tonight. Just give me a call.”
“I’ll do that.” I studied his card. “You know, I got a lot of free time today, while he’s doing his school stuff. I was thinking about trying to hook up for some fun this afternoon, but I don’t really know where to start down here. You got any recommendations?”
“Do I have any recommendations? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, my man?”
I laughed along with him, still making a conscious effort not to inflict pain. “What’d you think of that blonde back there?” he asked. “She’s one of my best. A real sweet girl. Knock your socks off and a lot more than that.”
“Yeah, she looked really nice. But honestly, I’m not into blondes. I’m more of a brunette guy.”
“Latinas?”
“I don’t really do the ethnic thing.” My stomach was twisting.
Finally, he lit up with a better idea. I was just hoping it was the one I’d been fishing for. “You said you were at Hyde Park Cafe? You remember Scalzo’s girl, Angie?”
“Sure. She was nice.”
He leaned forward. “Well, after what happened to him, she came down here, told me she was worried and wanted to lay low for a while, until I can help get her relocated to LA. She mentioned she’s getting low on cash and needed some work. But she’s nervous as hell about it. I think she’d jump at the opportunity to see someone she knows.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’d say I know her. I saw her. Always heard Chad talk about her. But she’s a bit out of my league and budget, if you know what I mean.”
He patted me on the shoulder. “Nonsense. She hasn’t appeared in the movies yet, so she’s still got the cheaper rate.”
“And that is?”
He checked our surroundings again, and then held up five fingers.
“For the hour?” I asked.
He nodded.
“You mind me asking, she working for you, or someone else?”
“No, she’s independent. This is just for screening and scheduling.” He opened his wallet. Handed me another business card. “Call them. She’s going by Eve now. Tell them I sent you. They’ll call me to confirm. Milo, right?”
I nodded and looked at the card. It read
VIP
, and there was a number. “Thanks,” I said. I finished my drink, stood up, and put both the cards he’d given me in my shirt pocket.
“Don’t forget to give me a call tonight,” he said. “We’ll consider it a job interview.”
“I can’t wait,” I said.
Then I turned and started walking by to my rental car. Along the way, I thought about the guy I’d just met, and I hoped that we’d indeed meet again one day, when all pretenses would be a thing of the past, and we could be honest with one another. He seemed like the kind of guy who’d greatly benefit from a little honest alone time with me.
Her suite was at a swanky place on Brickell that I’d have struggled to pronounce. I’d arrived an hour early, mainly because I had nothing else to do. I tried a little surveillance, but there was too much going on around the building for it to be meaningful. So I sat in my car and waited.
I was able to reach her floor with no complications other than having to fork out bills at every corner to tip the ever eager-to-help staff. One guy seemed to expect a dollar for letting me breathe the air.