The South Beach Search Read online

  He’d ask Joanne to run another copy and make it available to Claudia if she’d agree to meet him. Damn, but he wished he had the copy that had been in his stolen briefcase. He’d jotted trial notes in the margins and wasn’t sure if he’d recalled them all. Of course, wherever the briefcase was, most likely he’d find Taki’s infamous bowl.

  Memories slammed into his brain, bringing with them a need that stunned him. Taki combing her long, silky hair with graceful fingers. Taki smiling, handing him new reading glasses. Her legs wrapped around his waist.

  With a groan, Reese returned to his desk. No matter what he did, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Working every waking second didn’t make a difference. She still managed to creep into his thoughts and disrupt his concentration.

  He ached for her with a longing that transcended anything he’d ever known. The idea that he’d never see her again was intolerable, the source of his insomnia. And now that he knew she remained close by, he had a sudden, undeniable thirst to see her.

  How had his life become entangled with hers so quickly? How did a penniless orphan without car insurance transform into the wealthiest woman in the northeast? He shook his head.

  A woman who considered him as cruel as her heartless father. That’s what hurt. How could Taki believe they were so different that it would be disastrous to fall in love? Could he prove her wrong?

  Reese lifted his gaze to South Beach. Yeah, he would comply with Winslow’s request. But before he saw Taki again, he would learn all there was to know about the history of Kimberly Howell Spencer. Maybe then he could prove to her he wasn’t anything like her father.

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, in the Courthouse Café, Reese grabbed the phone the instant it rang, relieved that his missing witness was prompt and that she knew the location of one of the few working pay phones left in Florida.

  “Hello?”

  “Don’t use my name.”

  “I won’t.” Reese glanced around the deserted café again. No one in sight except a counter waitress washing out a coffeepot on the opposite end of the room. The restaurant closed in thirty minutes. “I’m alone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. Are you all right?”

  “So far.”

  Reese thought she sounded cautious, as if she didn’t want to jinx her fate. “Thank God. I was afraid you’d been weighted down and dropped off a bridge somewhere.”

  “I’m sorry if I worried you, but it was for the best. I needed to disappear fast. Better that you didn’t know anything about my plan. Believe me, I know what Carlos is capable of better than you.”

  “What happened? Why did you disappear?”

  “I was being followed. When someone broke in and ransacked my apartment—probably looking for my journal—I went into hiding.”

  “So Carlos knew you kept a record of events in that journal?”

  “He used to see me writing in it at night, but I started hiding it from him. When he saw my name on your witness list, I guess he made assumptions. I know his people are still searching for me.”

  “Where are you?”

  “You don’t need to know that.”

  “Meet me somewhere. I can arrange a safe house.”

  “Sorry, Reese. I quit trusting the government’s ability to protect me a long time ago. I’m only relying on myself and one other person these days.”

  Reese leaned against the wall to watch the door. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

  “No, I’m good. I prepared for this.”

  “But you’re still willing to testify?”

  “Of course. The only reason I’m hanging around is to nail his sorry butt. Just tell me the day you need me and I’ll be there.”

  Reese raked a hand through his hair. Because of safety concerns—never mind strategy anymore—he should enter Claudia’s testimony into the record immediately. She should be his first witness no matter how awkward. He’d connect the dots for the jury later with other witnesses and closing argument. No other choice.

  “I’ll call you Friday at the earliest,” he said. “Jury selection should take most of the week, then opening statements. Maybe not until Monday.”

  “That’s what I figured. You won’t recognize me. I’ll be in disguise.”

  “Good idea. How will I get in touch with you?”

  “You won’t. I’ll call you Thursday and we’ll go from there.”

  “Damn. I think you’d be safer in custody.”

  “Forget it, Counselor. Listen, when I testify, I’ll need my diary for dates. Make sure you have it for me. You’ll have to—” Claudia sucked in a quick breath. “What was that?”

  “What?”

  “I heard clicking on the line.”

  “I didn’t hear anything. About the diary, do you want to review—”

  “I’m outta here.”

  The line clicked once, then silence. “Hello?”

  “If you’d like to make a call...” a machine-generated female voice rattled in his ear. Reese hung up, but left his hand on the receiver, hoping Claudia would call back.

  When the phone didn’t ring, he considered and quickly rejected the idea of waiting at the counter. Claudia sounded so spooked, likely he wouldn’t hear from her until Thursday. Forget the idea of preparing his witness for what promised to be difficult testimony. But they’d discussed probable questions long before her disappearance. Claudia was smart. She’d do fine.

  As he crossed the street to the federal building, Reese sifted through the evidence in his case, relieved he had his star witness back. No way would Romero skate now. So what if his briefcase and trial notes had been stolen? He didn’t need them anymore.

  The connection between Taki’s bowl and the briefcase puzzled him, though. There had to be one, but he couldn’t figure it out. He didn’t like unanswered questions surrounding any case, and he found it too much of a coincidence that only his and Taki’s vehicles were burglarized the same night. At first he’d thought Izzo had gotten greedy, but now he wasn’t so sure. The thefts just didn’t make sense. He had a feeling that—

  Reese regarded himself with pure disgust. Surely he wasn’t starting to believe in mysterious feelings.

  He spotted the white cardboard file box on a chair the minute he entered his office. The receipt taped to the top bore the letterhead of the Spencer Trust. Reese smiled wryly, knowing he’d spend the rest of the evening reading about Kimberly Spencer and the horrible blight on her soul.

  It galled him that Taki thought he’d betray her to people she considered vultures, but he was no snitch. How could she think that? His anger mushroomed. Didn’t anyone trust him anymore?

  No matter what happened, he would never hurt Taki. As that idea took root, he knew it was true. At some gut level harming her was impossible. He was nothing like Howard Spencer. Why didn’t she understand that?

  She believed she could make her own reality. He wished he knew what was real about her and what wasn’t.

  He doubted he’d discover the whole truth in the files before him.

  * * *

  SEATED ON HER sofa, leaning forward with her elbows propped on her knees, Taki stared at the phone on the coffee table and willed the silly machine to ring. Why wouldn’t it ring?

  “What time did Benny say Mayhugh would call?” Victoria asked.

  “What time is it?” Taki replied.

  “Nine-fifteen.”

  “Fifteen minutes ago,” Taki said.

  “Then he’s late.”

  “I know, I know,” Taki said, jumping to her feet.

  Victoria sniffed. “No one is prompt anymore. The downfall of our society.”

  “I hope nothing went wrong.” Taki stopped pacing and plopped down on the rug. Hoping a spinal twist w
ould ease her anxiety, she lowered her spine to the floor one vertebra at a time, then twisted her knees first to one side and then the other.

  Ring, phone, ring!

  She’d been unable to sit still ever since Benny had phoned her at the ashram to tell her Mayhugh would call her tonight, that he was willing to hand over the bowl. Of course it all seemed a little strange. Suspicious. Why had Mayhugh waited so long? And why had he contacted Benny?

  But all she could think about was if she found her bowl, she might find Reese’s property, too. This was her chance to make it up to him. Probably her last chance. How could she pass up the opportunity?

  The phone rang, and Taki lunged for it. “Hello?”

  “Is that you, Ms. Taki?”

  “Yes. Is this Mr. Mayhugh?”

  “Yes. If you want your property, meet me in the conservatory at Fairchild Tropical Garden tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. sharp.”

  Taki thought it sounded as though he was reading from a script. “Conservatory, Fairchild, 9:00 a.m.,” she repeated. “I’ll be there. Will you have my bowl?”

  “Everything will be made clear tomorrow.”

  “But what do you want in exchange?”

  “You’ll find out tomorrow.”

  “But if I don’t know what to bring—”

  “All will be made clear tomorrow. Do not tell anyone about our meeting.”

  “Oh, but, Mr. Mayhugh, there’s—”

  “You and I need to keep this exchange private,” Mayhugh insisted, cutting her off. “Remember the disaster last time we met?”

  Taki stared into the alert face of Victoria and realized she was about to tell a direct lie. But what could she do? Victoria had already heard every word of the conversation, including the time and place of the meet, and Taki didn’t want Mayhugh to change his mind.

  “All right,” she told the fence, shrugging helplessly at Victoria. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  Victoria rolled her eyes, and Taki bit her lip. What was one more lie? Surely the universe would forgive her if it meant she recovered Reese’s property.

  And of course she would tell Reese about the meeting. She learned from her mistakes and remembered all too painfully the scene with the FBI last time she’d met Mr. Mayhugh.

  “Don’t forget. Tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. sharp in the conservatory at Fairchild.”

  “I’ll remember,” Taki said, attempting to sound confident.

  “No police, no FBI and no federal prosecutors. Come alone.”

  “Federal prosecutors?” Taki repeated.

  “I understand you’re real friendly with one.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Never mind, missy. You just show up if you want your precious bowl.”

  “I’ll be there. I promise,” Taki said, thinking her promise might not mean much now that she’d told a fib. “Wait. Don’t hang up,” she shouted, worried Mayhugh was about to disconnect.

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you know anything about a briefcase that was stolen the same night?”

  “What about it?”

  A prickle of awareness traced her spine at his tone. Mayhugh did know something about Reese’s property! “I’d like to recover that, as well.”

  Mayhugh remained silent a moment. “Maybe that can be negotiated. We’ll discuss it tomorrow.”

  “Bring the—” Taki grimaced and replaced the receiver. “He hung up on me.”

  Victoria crossed her arms. “How rude.”

  “Wow, talk about negative energy. Even his voice is weird.”

  “You know,” Victoria said, “it seems rather odd to me that this yoga student of yours—Benny, is it?—always seems to be in the thick of things where your stolen bowl is concerned.”

  “He is, isn’t he? I thought he was just being a sweetie to help me. Do you think he’s involved?”

  “Sounds like it to me.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he steal my bowl?”

  Victoria shrugged. “Maybe you should ask him.”

  “Maybe I should.”

  “Why can’t you meet at the fence’s house again?” Victoria asked.

  “Mayhugh thinks the FBI has his property under surveillance.”

  “That’s probably true. Are you going to tell Reese about this rendezvous at Fairchild Gardens?”

  “Yes, although that will be complicated,” Taki said. “We’re not exactly communicating. I haven’t talked to him in almost a week.”

  “I gather he knows who you are now?”

  “Yes.” But does he really know me?

  “Then perhaps you shouldn’t tell him about this meeting. He might try to stop you.”

  “No. He won’t care what I do.”

  “Oh, I suspect he cares. Best not to let him know what’s going on or you’ll never improve your karma.”

  “Perhaps,” Taki murmured, surprised that Victoria would counsel her not to inform Reese. Her landlady was usually quite down-to-earth and practical. “He thinks I’ve already moved and will be furious if I don’t tell him about the meeting.” Taki frowned, convinced she should tell him about this latest development. He couldn’t prevent her from meeting Mayhugh. She wasn’t doing anything illegal.

  “All the more reason to keep quiet,” Victoria said.

  Taki sighed. “I don’t know. The reason he’s angry is because I didn’t trust him.”

  “No one can trust a lawyer.”

  “Maybe,” Taki murmured. “Anyway, I expect to hear from one of the Trust’s attorneys any day.”

  “Probably that David Winslow. He called me again, but I put him off. Personally, I’m delighted you’re staying, dear.” Victoria patted Taki’s arm. “It’s been lonely since Bert passed on, and I enjoy having you around. You’re welcome to live here as long as you’d like.”

  “Thanks.” Taki hugged her friend, grateful for her support.

  Victoria stood. “Well, it’s past my bedtime. Now, don’t forget I’m driving to Little Palm Island in the morning.”

  “I’m glad. You always have such a good time there.”

  “I do, don’t I?”

  “You deserve to be pampered after nursing Bert for so long. Have a wonderful trip.”

  “I will. Go alone to the meeting, dear. My instincts tell me that’s the thing to do.”

  Taki followed her landlady to the door and stepped outside to watch her stride purposefully up the wheelchair ramp constructed for her late husband. Victoria had remained steadfast by Bert’s side as he’d declined, seldom allowing a caretaker to assist her. Unfortunately, they’d had no children to help out in his last days. Victoria had shouldered all of the nursing alone.

  When she had safely reached her back door, Victoria waved and disappeared inside the house.

  Taki sighed, feeling a pang at the thought of growing old with Reese, enjoying year after year by his side as Victoria had with Bert. How lovely that life would be, living in harmony with her soul mate, sharing the journey together. She placed her hand on her belly. Maybe having a few kids. She’d love to have a family. A real family with people that loved each other. Then she’d never be lonely again.

  Nonsense, Taki told herself, mentally mimicking Victoria’s stern tone. Impossible. There was no hope for any chance with Reese in this lifetime. The best she could hope for was to mend the harm she’d caused by finding his briefcase. Maybe then they’d have better luck during their next meeting.

  The flash of headlights turning into her driveway caused Taki to raise her hand to shield her eyes. When the glare subsided, she recognized a sleek black Jaguar, and her heart began a joyous dance inside her chest.

  The trunk popped open, then the driver’s door. Reese emerged wearing only a dress shirt without
his usual jacket. He threw her a glance, then slammed the door—harder than necessary—and strode to the rear of the car to retrieve something.

  He moved toward her front door with a white cardboard box in his arms.

  She swallowed hard, wary of the determined look on his face, dreading to learn what was inside that box.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  REESE’S EYES FEASTED on Taki. Gracefully balanced on one foot in what he now recognized as Tree pose, she stood barefoot on her top step, softly illuminated by an overhead light. Her long, slender fingers were wrapped around her throat, and her eyes appeared huge in her pale face.

  He’d tried to tell himself she couldn’t be as beautiful as he remembered. He shifted the heavy box in his arms. Too bad his memory paled in comparison to her reality.

  No doubt she’d try to tell him she’d had a premonition he was coming and that’s why she waited for him outside her front door.

  Why the hell was he making this foolish unannounced visit, anyway?

  He cursed himself and her tense expression. He’d hoped she’d be glad to see him. Of course it was almost 10:00 p.m. and way too late for an unexpected call. But after he’d finished digesting the information in this box, he simply could not wait to confront her.

  Or maybe he just had to see her again. He wasn’t sure which anymore. All he knew was some force had compelled him to come tonight.

  With a hesitant smile, she lowered the foot propped against her thigh and motioned him inside. She didn’t speak.

  If he thought he’d suddenly become immune to her natural beauty and grace, he’d been very wrong. Taki tapped needs deep inside him that no one had ever come close to uncovering before. He ached to touch her.

  He summoned his anger to curb that need.

  “How are you?” she asked when she’d closed the door, her voice sounding airy, as if she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “I’ve been better.”