Page 40

FAITH

O scar bounced into the station with a smile on his face, setting a familiar styrofoam cup on my desk. “Half sugar, just like you like it,” he said, catching sight of an identical cup beside my computer. “Shit, You beat me to it,” he grimaced, “Guess you won’t be needing this then.”

“It’s the thought that counts,” I grinned, snatching the coffee gift from his hands. Coulter and I stayed up so late at his house last night that there was no time for coffee this morning before his charter. “Thanks, partner.”

“Any leads on that truck and boat theft from last night? I saw the APB.”

I picked up a print out of the toll records. “The Sunpass last pinged at the Cutler Bay toll station, which either means they finally had the sense to take down the toll device, or they got off the turnpike there and disappeared into South Miami.”

“Not likely these guys had much sense,” Oscar chuckled. “Otherwise it wouldn’t have pinged at all. ”

“I called the owners, who are extremely annoyed since they had the boat hitched up and ready to head out early this morning for a weekend in Key West.”

“Well I guess they'll learn not to hitch up ahead of time from now on.” Oscar shook his head. “Miami criminals got the memo that Keys people don’t expect anything bad to happen, so they’re easy marks.”

I shook my head, scowling. Stats showed that theft had been on a steady rise for the past three years. The Miami hate had a basis, I couldn’t deny. “Kind of sad that they need to be more careful now though, isn’t it?”

Oscar shrugged. “We’re trained to expect the worst. It’s hard for me to relate.”

I felt what he said deep in my soul. Except for me, it was the opposite.

I was happy to finally let my guard down in more ways than one.

While the two weeks after Kylie’s case was closed had reminded me how sleepy our island town was most of the time, the relief I felt that Coulter was in the clear, and that we could finally be together, more than made up for being back to solving mostly nonviolent crimes.

“Well I, for one, am happy not to have a murder to investigate.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oscar scoffed. “I assume you’ve contacted Miami PD?”

“They’re on it. But you know as well as I do that the truck is probably in a chop shop, and the 32-foot Contender is on the way to the Bahamas.”

“No doubt,” Oscar chuckled. “On the bright side, insurance will likely cover it.”

His comment struck a nerve. “I wonder if it’s an inside job. It’s probably a $300,000 payout.” Even though my phone conversation with the owner half an hour earlier gave me no reason to suspect such a thing, it was worth considering.

A playful glimmer flickered in Oscar’s eyes. “Wanna go shake ‘em down and see if they flinch?”

“Sure, why not?” It was something to do. I chugged the last of my lukewarm coffee and picked up the new one Oscar had brought me. “You drive.”

On our way up to Key Largo, Oscar’s phone rang.

“It’s Agent Flannigan,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hopefully he’s got news on putting the mystery killer away.

” He punched the green button on the screen of his Charger to answer through the car speakers.

“Agent Flannigan, Detective Ramirez here. I’ve got you on speaker with Detective Pierce again. ”

“Oh good. I was hoping you could come meet me in Homestead.”

Oscar's brows shot up as he smiled at me. “Yeah, sure. I take it you have something to share?”

I looked out the window to hide my rolling eyes. My partner won the award for Overstater of the Obvious.

“In person. Meet me at Robert Is Here.”

Oscar’s face scrunched. “The smoothie stand?”

“That’s the one. What’s your ETA?””

Oscar and I exchanged a glance, and I nodded emphatically. The unlikely insurance fraud investigation could wait. “Thirty minutes?” he answered.

“Great, see you there. ”

“That’s a strange choice of venue,” Oscar said after ending the call, a perplexed crease in his brow.

“Maybe not for a clandestine meeting.” I rubbed my palms together, excited about returning to the iconic roadside fruit stand that had gained notoriety in recent years.

I’d known it since I was a kid. “I haven’t been to Robert is Here in ages.

The Key Lime Papaya Passionfruit smoothie is out of this world. ”

“I’m partial to the Oreo Chocolate Banana Milkshake myself,” Oscar said, grinning.

“You do you,” I laughed. “Might need to loosen your belt after.”

“You keep on watching your waistline, Detective,” Oscar cackled, patting his ample pot belly. “I’m married. Those days are over.”

“I’m more worried about diabetes than getting fat,” I said with a grin.

“They make insulin for a reason,” Oscar said, dead serious.

“That’s why I’ll be having two slices of chocolate truffle cake at Louis’s birthday dinner Saturday night,” he raised two proud fingers between us and my mind chuckled at the sight of him looking like a poor impersonation of a hippie. “You’re coming right?”

“I can’t Saturday. I’m going to a wedding.”

“Oh yeah? Friends in Miami?” he asked.

“Don’t play coy. Everyone in Smugglers Cove knows the baby brother Rodman is getting hitched.”

“Oh. I mean, of course I heard about that, but I honestly didn’t think you’d be going. ”

Why would he? Oscar didn’t know that I’d spent every single night with Coulter for two weeks. The temptation to come clean tore at me, but the resolve to protect my personal privacy won out.

“Half the town is going to the reception party afterwards. You guys should stop by after dinner… and cake.” My mouth drew to one side as I wiggled my brows.

“Are you suggesting we crash the Rodman wedding?”

Ignoring the second opportunity to come clean that I was about to pass up, I held my smile. “Think about it. It’d be a show of good faith from the MCPD after almost wrongly accusing the man of murder.”

“We didn’t almost wrongly accuse him,” Oscar argued, as though it was preposterous. But the undertone of regret took the wind out of his protest’s sails.

“No we didn’t, Oscar,” I said. I let it hang there because we both knew what I was thinking.

We didn’t. He did. But I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.

“I was joking,” I lied, “but not about the invitation. Trust me, you don’t want to miss this party.

” I knew it was going to be a good one because I’d enjoyed helping Corinne with logistics for the past week.

“We’ll see how it goes,” he said before pivoting back to the matter at hand. “We have more important things to think about right now.”

Slinking back into my seat, I sipped my coffee and pondered what could have prompted Agent Flannigan’s urgent meeting. There was no point in conjecture, but we were both praying for closure.

After traversing the final seven of the eighteen mile stretch with barely a word, the light at the end of the tunnel appeared alongside West Palm Drive.

I barely recognized the iconic fruit stand that my mother brought me religiously to buy our fruit for the week.

She told me the story of how it started…

when the farmer’s son set out a table on the side of the road to sell his father’s crop long before she was born.

By the time I was a little girl, it had expanded to a small hut containing several tables full of the biggest, freshest fruit around.

They’d added smoothies to their menu and there was always a crowd.

I wasn’t exactly sure why or when we had stopped going there.

Maybe driving half an hour to Homestead for papaya stopped making sense…

? I longed now for those days, and the moments shared on that drive, when I was a little girl without a care in the world.

Being with Coulter had actually made me miss my mom more. Not only because he’d lost his mother, which did make me appreciate her more. But I also really wanted my mother to meet him, and to share in my joy, in person. It wasn’t the same over the phone with a couple thousand miles between us.

I blinked back my nostalgia, astounded by the transformation of the business since my last visit as we turned into the large paved lot that was gravel back then.

The original thatched-roof hut still stood, now alongside a sprawling structure with a green metal roof.

Raised wooden bins of exotic fruits spilled out under the awning.

“Wow, it’s changed a lot even in five years. ”

“Progress ruins everything quaint,” Oscar grumbled. “No sign of Agent Flannigan,” he said, typing on his phone with his thumbs.

“Not that we know what he looks like,” I said, even though I figured that two detectives could pick out an FBI agent from the crowd of tourists lined up at the window. “I’ll go order our drinks.”

“Good, it’s on you,” Oscar said with a wink.

The prices had doubled in five years, but the menu was the same.

I sucked on the wide straw, sipping the fruity concoction from the giant styrofoam cup on my way back to the Charger when I saw a black Suburban waiting to turn left into the lot.

Oscar stepped out of the car as it pulled up alongside.

The tinted window lowered halfway, revealing a clean cut blonde man in his forties wearing a navy blue suit and shades as dark as the windows. “Detectives,” he nodded. “Get in.”

Oscar gave me a look before heading around to the passenger side of the oversized SUV.

For a second, I felt like I was in a bad cop movie and was about to be whisked away to some secret location.

I shook my head at the silly thought as I hugged the two cups to my chest while I opened the back door and awkwardly shimmied into the back seat.

I scooted to the center, handing Oscar his nine-hundred-calorie shake before I offered Agent Flannigan my hand. “Detective Faith Pierce,” I said, “Nice to finally meet you.”