Five O'Clock Twist (An Inspector Rebecca Mayfield Mystery) Page 7

  “She?”

  “Audrey Poole.”

  “I don’t think it has anything to do with her,” Sean said, his voice soft and timid. “I’m sure it doesn’t. And I’ll stop the questions from being asked. The story will go away.”

  “It had better.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  At dinner time, Richie sat across from Rebecca at one of his favorite restaurants, The Jade Dragon. He’d been stunned when she called and suggested dinner tonight.

  He had brought Rebecca to the Jade Dragon the first evening they spent together—last Christmas Eve. He never dreamed back then that he and Rebecca Rulebook—which was how he used to think of her and, come to think of it, still did—would continue to be together several months later.

  Since today was the 24th of the month, it was, in his mind, an anniversary of sorts. But he would never admit anything so sappy to Rebecca.

  He knew she was upset about Kiki’s attack and busy working on Inga Westergaard’s murder—still trying to find the woman’s boyfriend as well as a motive for her death. But beyond that, he hoped that tonight he would find out what was bothering her.

  The main floor of Jade Dragon was always noisy with small tables and booths along the walls and larger, round tables suitable for families with children in the center. The ambiance was happy and colorful—the walls and ceiling were festooned with posters and a variety of masks and objects depicting Chinese dragons and other mythological creatures. Its bright lights and packed tables caused tourists who filled Chinatown to take notice and wander inside, adding to the crowd. Thanks to Richie’s friendship with the owner, Benny Wong, Richie and his guests were always brought downstairs to a peaceful dining area with soft lighting and private tables. There, they joined the Chinatown elite. Waiters appeared almost instantly, and so did the food. Richie enjoyed selecting a variety of dishes, but always included a bowl of beef won ton soup and an order of pork chow mein, which he considered staples of any decent Chinese meal.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said to her after they’d sat and gave the waiter their order. “I’ve hardly seen you.”

  “Yes,” Rebecca said. “It’s Kiki. I cannot believe what happened to her, and then her assistant’s death. It’s all hit me quite hard.”

  The stilted way she spoke wasn’t the Rebecca he was used to.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “At least Kiki is doing well.”

  She dropped her gaze and shook her head. “A couple of hours ago, her daughter told me some sort of fluid had built up in her head and they had to perform surgery. The doctor hopes he caught the problem quickly enough that there’ll be no consequences from it.”

  Richie covered her hand with his. “That’s tough news. I’m sorry to hear it.”

  She pulled her hand free. “It’s a setback. But if all goes well, she’ll be fine.”

  Their soup was served. When the waitress left, Richie said, “I’ve got interesting news. One of Carmela’s friends wants to sell her house. It’s a beauty and on the north side of Russian Hill. It has some ‘permit’ problems, but I’m thinking I might be able to get it at a good price.”

  “You’d move?” she asked.

  “And live that close to my mother? I don’t know, to tell the truth. I suppose I could always flip it.”

  She nodded. “I see. I also found out a little about the sale of the building where Kiki’s spa is.”

  “Oh?”

  As they ate, she then launched into her meeting with Winston Young, Kiki’s landlord. Again, with the shop talk, he thought, acting as if he were her supervisor and she was giving a report.

  He thought she’d have been more interested in him wanting to buy a big house, the sort that could be a nice family home.

  “I was thinking,” she said, “about your comments about Audrey Poole. I’d like to talk to her, but I can’t reach her, which is very strange with her being a realtor and all.”

  “It is,” he said. “She’s not answering my calls either. I was told she might be out of the country.”

  Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “You’ve been trying to reach her?”

  He swallowed hard. “She might consider herself the agent for the house I was telling you about. I’m not sure. And I want to find out what she knows about its structural issues.”

  “Of course,” Rebecca said. “And so, do you have a better phone number for her than the one at her office or the one she uses online? Or, maybe, her home address?”

  “You’re stuck?” he asked.

  “Yes, and I hoped that you—”

  “So that’s it.” He pushed out his lips. “I was wondering why you finally wanted to have dinner with me. I hoped it might be my boyish charm. Guess not. What’s going on Rebecca?”

  The waitress served the rest of their meal. Rebecca didn’t answer until they were alone again. “I just thought you might have some suggestions on how I can reach her, that’s all.”

  Richie put some kung pao chicken on his plate. “I’m not exactly having any luck myself, you may have noticed.”

  She frowned. “Oh, well, I suppose I could try Sean Hinkle, if you’re right that he’s dating Audrey Poole.”

  “Oh yes, your old flame. How could I forget? I wonder how he’s doing,” Richie said as he reached for the moo goo gai pan.

  “I guess I’ll find out. Just like you’ll eventually reach Audrey Poole.”

  His jaw tightened. “Then we’ll both be happy.”

  Rebecca’s hand stilled a moment over the chow mein. “I see.” She then continued to put some chow mein on her plate.

  Richie put down his chopsticks. He knew he was wading into dangerous water, but he had to know. “Would you go out with him again if he asked?”

  “Sean?”

  “Who else?”

  She seemed to carefully choose her words. “We only dated a short while, and I soon found I didn’t care that much for him. I don’t see that changing.” She took a sip of tea. “But since you mention it, I’m sure you meet women all the time you’d like to go out with.”

  He knew better than to answer a loaded question like that. How dumb did she think he was? He picked up his chopsticks and pushed the chicken around on his plate, weighing his answer. There wasn’t any good one. “Since I mentioned it?”

  She grimaced. “I’m not joking.”

  “You have to bring this up before I even take a bite of the kung pao?” he muttered. “It’s one of my favorite dishes. Thanks loads.”

  “Fine. Forget what I said.” She began to eat.

  Nothing like taking a woman out to dinner on an anniversary of sorts, and have her talk about dating others. The chicken didn’t taste nearly as good as he remembered. “Is this really about people we used to date, or is there more to it?”

  She pressed the napkin to her lips then took a deep breath. “Sometimes,”—her voice was soft and low—“sometimes I wonder about us.”

  “Aah. So that’s what this is about.” He was almost relieved. This, he could handle. So typical, go out with a woman a few times, and she’s thinking about a wedding ring. He should have known. “You want some sort of commitment.” He reached for his tea.

  “No, I don’t.”

  He felt as if an ice cube had been dropped down his back. Her words didn’t make any sense to him. Women don’t talk that way—not in his experience. Hell, in his experience, they didn’t even think that way. Then, he got it. “Okay, Rebecca. What did I do?”

  “Do?”

  “You know. What did I do that’s making you talk like this? Did I forget something important? It’s not your birthday is it?”

  She folded her hands, then lifted sad and troubled blue eyes to his. “The truth is you confuse me. We confuse me. I care a lot about you. And I know you feel the same. But when I think about ‘us’ all I see are our differences. And I don’t know what to do about them. Sometimes, I think the smartest thing for both of us—for both—would be to simply walk away.”

  He carefu
lly placed the chopsticks on his plate, his appetite completely gone. She wanted out. Okay, he knew it would happen eventually. Maybe just not this soon.

  He was a big boy. He could handle it. But, still, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is that what you want?”

  “Not really.” She sounded disappointed, somehow. He didn’t get her; not one bit. But then she asked, “Do you?”

  Something about the way she looked at him, about the tone of her voice, told him how upset she was and how much, despite all that, she cared about him. He was struggling with how to reply when the restaurant owner, Benny Wong, hurried over to their table.

  “Richie, my friend,” the man bellowed. “They just told me you were here.”

  Richie was all but speechless, caught between Rebecca’s announcement and his old friend’s exuberance. “Hello, Benny.” He half-rose from his chair as they shook hands. “You remember Rebecca Mayfield?”

  “Of course, I do.” Benny gave a bow as Rebecca said hello to him. He glanced back at Richie with a big smile. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but something has come up that’s very strange. But could be very profitable as well. It almost sounds too good to be true, so when I heard you were here, I told myself, ‘Talk to Richie.’ I’ve got to know what you think.”

  “I see. Well, uh …” Richie glanced at Rebecca. Thoughts of the conversation they were just having gave him a cold chill, but he needed to hear what she had to say. Was it over between them … or not quite?

  Benny glanced at Rebecca, suddenly flustered. “Oh, so sorry, Richie! I don’t want to interrupt your dinner. Maybe just one minute? At most, two?”

  “It’s fine,” Rebecca said, then her eyes found Richie’s. “Listen to what your friend has to say.”

  “Thank you, thank you!” Benny all but sang the words. He grabbed a chair from an empty table, and spun it around so it faced them. He sat and proceeded to talk about some people in China who were buying up a lot of property in San Francisco using offshore holding companies. Benny wondered if he should join some of those investors.

  “I have heard about those things,” Richie said. “In fact, I have a former client now who’s selling an office building to one such company. Do you have any names? That’s the best way for me to check out what’s going on.”

  “Yes!” Benny beamed. “As a matter of fact I do.” He pulled out a pamphlet written in Chinese and gave it to Richie.

  Richie flipped it from one side to the other, not even sure which was the front of the thing. “This doesn’t happen to say Bay-to-Breakers Realty does it?”

  “Ah? You read Chinese, Richie?” Benny gave a toothy smile. “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “I know a lot about what goes on in this city.”

  He saw Rebecca roll her eyes at that, but then she asked, “Tell me, Benny, why would anyone in China want to buy property in this city?”

  “It’s because of Chinese law,” Benny told her. “Despite China being a Communist country many people have become quite rich there in the last few years. But they worry about what will happen in the future. San Francisco property always seems to be a pretty safe bet. It usually stays expensive, so it’s a good way to park their cash. Their own government can’t reach it here.”

  She nodded. “Interesting.”

  Rebecca’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out. “The security videos I was waiting for are finally in. Places around Kiki’s spa around the time of Inga’s murder. I should go back to work to view them.”

  Richie’s gaze met hers and held. Then he dropped his eyes and nodded.

  “You want to-go boxes?” Benny asked. “I’ll get my staff to make them up for you. And no charge for this dinner. I seem to have wrecked it for you.”

  “No to-go box for me,” Rebecca said. “I’m heading back to work. And you didn’t wreck anything, Benny.”

  As they said their good-byes, Benny’s head swiveled from one to the other, finally noticing the tension between them. He didn’t say another word.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The next afternoon, Richie knocked on the door of a swank hotel located in the city’s downtown area just off Union Square.

  “Who is it?” A voice with a heavy New York accent called.

  “Richie Amalfi.”

  The dead bolt clicked. Audrey Poole opened the hotel door, peeked at him with one eye, and shut it again. He heard the chain being unfastened, and then the door swung open wide. “Richie, how did you find me?” She was whispering and looked strained and harried. “Get in here. Hurry!”

  He entered the room, and she shut, locked, and chained the door again. She had on jeans and a T-shirt, no shoes, no make-up, and her hair looked like she had washed it and let it dry without doing anything more. The years, he couldn’t help but think, hadn’t been kind to her. And while some women could get away with no make-up, Audrey was one of those who benefited from all the cosmetic help she could get.

  “What’s going on with you?” he asked, waving at the door locks.

  “It’s crazy. I swear, Richie.” She ran her fingers through her medium length auburn hair as if trying to get it to fall somewhat in place. “Who knew I’d be hiding out like this? You want a drink?” She walked to a bottle of Scotch and an ice bucket.

  “No thanks,” he said. She made a stiff drink for herself. From the fumes around her, it wasn’t her first.

  The hotel room had a tiny kitchen area—microwave, refrigerator and some dishes and utensils—as well as a sitting area. He went to a sofa near the windows and sat.

  “You didn’t answer my question, yet,” she said, leaning back against a chest of drawers. “How did you find me?”

  “You think I forgot that you helped the owner buy this hotel?” Richie said. “Or that we came here after that party when we were too looped to drive home and you told me you could always find a room here as Lucy Magillicutty? I figured if you wanted to hide in this city, this was as good a place as any. And better than most. Turns out I was right, Lucy.”

  She nodded, her mouth pinched and troubled. “If you found me, do you think others will?”

  “Who’s looking?”

  “Damn it all, Richie.” She joined him on the sofa and then laid her head on his shoulder. “Things have gotten pretty bad.”

  “So I noticed.” He put his arm around her.

  “I’m going to leave the city. I’m just waiting for a couple deals to close, make sure the money’s in my bank, and then I’m off to Argentina.”

  “Argentina?”

  “Buenos Aires is doing really well. Lots of Americans going down there, wanting to buy homes and condos. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sure you will. But what are you so scared of?”

  “That’s the thing. I can’t be sure. I think it’s all about a couple buildings I’ve been trying to buy. You heard I have an offshore holding company, right?”

  “I have. Leave it to you, Audrey.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a big money maker, let me tell you. Something you should think about, Richie. Really.”

  “Like I want more businesses to worry about,” he said.

  She snuggled closer. “Yeah, right, you’ve always had a head for business. And quick, big bucks. And women, too, you know. Believe me, sometimes, I’m sorry things didn’t work out for us. We always saw eye-to-eye.”

  “That’s true,” he said. And that was one of the problems. They were both too much into looking at the money side of things and not at the whole picture. Instinctively, he knew living twenty-four seven on the fast track wasn’t healthy.

  “Maybe we should try again,” she said. “Why don’t you come to Buenos Aires with me? If nothing else, we’d have a blast.”

  “I’m sure we would, but I’ve got a business to run,” he said.

  “Yeah. I heard about your nightclub. Well, my offer stands, okay? Anytime. You know, so often I wish I had a guy like you. Instead I meet crazy stalkers. And I do mean crazy. Why am I so damned unlucky?”

  He chuck
led at that, but found himself shifting away a bit. “Why leave here? If all this fear is caused because of a building you want to buy, why not just walk away from the deal?”

  “It’s not just the one property, but also these investors. So many can be trouble, bad trouble. It doesn’t matter what part of the world the high rollers are from. They all have a lot of influence and power in their home countries. They know how to get their way, how to apply serious pressure, or they wouldn’t be so rich that they’d be looking for US properties, you know? So ‘walking away’ isn’t exactly in the cards.”

  “That’s not good,” Richie said.

  “No, it’s not. Anyway, my buyers, from China in this particular case, need a lot of space and they want something in the northern part of the city. I found two buildings on Union, side-by-side, and both owners are willing to sell. Perfect, right? But one building has a tenant who won’t give up the lease.”

  “The place on Union Street—the one in the news,” Richie said. It all made sense suddenly.

  Audrey nodded. “Yeah. I even joined the damned spa to get to know the owner, but she’s stubborn like you wouldn’t believe. And now she’s in the hospital, her employee is dead, and the police want to talk to me. I keep getting calls from some crap homicide detective. She sounds like a first-class bitch if ever I heard one. I don’t want to talk to her. I know nothing! I want no part of any of this.”

  “And you think your buyers are behind the attack and murder?”

  “The buyers are in China,” Audrey said. “But there are others involved.”

  “Who?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Talk to the homicide detective who’s been calling you,” he urged. “I know her. She just wants to get a few answers. She might even find out who’s behind all this.”

  Audrey sat upright and faced him, her eyes hollow. “Yeah, sure. Like she can protect me if I talk.”

  “Protect you from who?”

  “Didn’t you hear what I just said? I’m dealing with big-time players and God knows who else. I’m not saying a peep, Richie. Swear to me you won’t tell her or anybody else where I am.”