The South Beach Search Read online

  She thrust the napkin toward him.

  He accepted it with a long look at her scribbles. When he folded the paper and stuck it in the pocket of his gym shorts, she got the curious sensation that he’d memorized the numbers.

  “I’ll be in touch if I get any news.” With a wave, he disappeared inside the men’s locker room.

  Should she believe him? Would he keep her number private?

  But maybe she shouldn’t worry. Unless he had info about their stolen property, why would he call? And in that case, she wouldn’t mind hearing from him.

  Assuming the news was good.

  On her way to the parking lot, she passed Hector and Lourdes working at the front desk and gave them a weak wave.

  “Hey, Taki,” Lourdes said. “Don’t forget about the staff meeting next week.”

  “Okay.”

  “Any luck with your bowl?” Hector asked.

  “Not yet,” she said and pushed open the door, glad for the rush of fresh air.

  What was it about Reese’s dark, intelligent eyes that seemed so...aware? She shivered, recalling the force of his gaze as he stared directly into hers. It reminded her of the times Guru Navi tried to look deep into her soul. Funny, but it felt as if Reese saw her more clearly than her teacher.

  Too bad Reese hadn’t become a healer like his mother instead of a lawyer. That would be so much better for his...

  She slowed her crisp steps across the well-lit parking lot when she spotted a figure leaning against the Jeep’s driver door. Her pulse kicked up a notch, but she relaxed and resumed her pace when she recognized Benny.

  “Hi, Ben. I’m sorry. Were you waiting for me?”

  When Benny smiled, the wrinkles in his weathered face grew even deeper. “Yes. I have some interesting news.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Remember I promised I’d ask around the spa about your missing bowl?”

  Taki nodded, a rush of excitement making her belly tingle. Reese would of course discount it as a worthless feeling.

  “After your class, I found this stuck in my locker.” Benny produced a white envelope and handed it to her. With odd-size letters cut out from a magazine, “Taki” was pasted to the front.

  “Did you see anyone around your locker?” she asked.

  “I have no idea where it came from.”

  “Have you opened it?”

  “Of course not.”

  She ripped open the envelope and withdrew a photograph.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, staring at a bowl sitting on a sheet of newspaper with a wand propped against the rim.

  Was it hers?

  She peered at the image closely to make certain that the— Yes, there was that tiny crescent-shaped mar on the base. She pressed the photo to her chest and closed her eyes. This was definitely hers.

  Who had sent this? And why to Benny?

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Taki opened her eyes, feeling silly about her reaction. “Yes, yes. I’m fine.”

  “What is it?”

  With a sigh, she passed him the photo. Now what?

  “Proof of life,” Benny said. “Although of course the bowl isn’t actually alive, but that’s why they included the paper, to show a date.” Ben held up the image to examine it more closely. “That’s the front page of today’s Miami Herald.”

  “Wait,” she said, grabbing the photo from Ben. “There’s something on the other side.”

  On the back of the photograph, with those same mismatched cutout letters, someone had pasted directions.

  BE AT PUERTO SAGUA TOMORROW AT SIX P.M. FOR INFORMATION ABOUT THIS ITEM.

  * * *

  AT FIVE FORTY-FIVE the next night, Taki slid onto a stool at Puerto Sagua and smiled at a waiter behind the broken-tiled counter. Smoke from the grill floated upward, billowing and obscuring the ceiling.

  With a nod, the heavy-set server placed a menu and a plastic glass of water before her and moved on.

  Taki took a slow drink while she surveyed the crowded Cuban restaurant. Maybe twenty-five diners sat at tables or at the long U-shaped counter that cut the room in half. Their noisy chatter and laughter bounced off the tiled walls, making her ears ring.

  No one looked familiar. Not in this life or any other.

  When the wall clock ticked down to six, the frowning waiter approached her again. She’d have to order something or be asked to leave. Black beans and rice seemed safe, but she was too nervous to eat.

  After placing her order, she laid a hand on her queasy stomach. If only Reese had returned her calls. So much for her plan to avoid him, but of course he needed to know about the note.

  Reese was always so confident and self-assured, she had no doubt his presence would bolster her faltering courage. She’d left messages at all his numbers revealing her intention to attend the meeting. She’d even spoken with his secretary. Joanne had been sweet, had promised to contact some agent named Javi and all but begged her not to do anything before she talked to Reese.

  Forget that nonsense. She couldn’t miss the chance to recover her bowl. Benny knew she was here, as did Victoria, plus she had pepper spray tucked in her purse. She’d never used it and wasn’t sure if she could harm anyone with it, but just in case she slipped the small cylinder into her pocket for easy access.

  And so many people crowded this restaurant, she was beginning to feel too warm. She fanned her face with the menu.

  She wouldn’t leave with anyone, and even Reese’s bad guys wouldn’t drag her off from such a public place. What could they possibly want with her?

  More important, why would anybody want her bowl?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REESE HAD NO problem spotting Taki when he entered the raucous atmosphere of Puerto Sagua. Seated at the counter, long blond hair partially braided and secured with a clip, her stillness was an oasis of tranquility in the center of chaos. In a warm, lively restaurant filled with the essence of garlic and onion, she made him think of the cool freshness of a deep forest.

  If he weren’t so damned annoyed with her reckless behavior, he’d be glad to see her.

  “You don’t know me,” Reese murmured as he slid onto the stool next to hers. He threw her a quick look. “Pretend we’re meeting for the first time.”

  When she flashed a grateful, relieved smile, his mood improved. At least she was glad he’d come to her rescue.

  Spotting Javi on the other side of the counter, Reese nodded. She followed his gaze and then looked to him in surprise.

  “Who’s that?” she whispered.

  “FBI.”

  Her eyes widened, and her gaze swung back to Javi.

  “Quit staring at him.”

  When Taki refocused on her plate, which contained a mammoth serving of black beans—she couldn’t have touched a bite—Reese asked, “You really received a photograph of your bowl with a note instructing you to come here?”

  “Not exactly. Someone left the photo with Benny, one of my regular students.” With a graceful movement, she tucked a strand of hair behind her shoulder.

  Reese made a mental note to question Benny. He knew all about Benny. The old man practically lived at SoBe Spa, or anyway, he was there every time Reese worked out. So what was his involvement with Taki and her magic bowl?

  “Why him and not you?” Reese asked.

  The waiter arrived before she could reply.

  “Cafecito to go,” Reese requested. The potent Cuban coffee was like mainlining caffeine, but he still had hours of work to do tonight
.

  “I asked people around the spa if they knew anything about the bowl,” she said when the waiter moved away. “Benny did, too. I guess he asked the right person.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. Do you have the photo?”

  She reached for her purse.

  “Wait. I’ll look at it later.”

  Reese surveyed the room, searching for a familiar face. His initial response to Taki’s message had been that someone was playing a joke on her, but Puerto Sagua just happened to be Izzo’s favorite place for breakfast, and nobody in law enforcement believed in coincidences.

  “Whoever sent the note has my bowl and maybe you can recover your briefcase, too,” she said, her voice low and urgent.

  Reese stared at Taki’s animated face. Why did he find this nutcase so compelling? She certainly had guts. More courage than sense, apparently.

  “You shouldn’t have come here alone, Taki. It was a foolish thing to do.”

  “But you didn’t return my calls. I had no choice.”

  Reese shook his head at her stubbornness. Why was this damned bowl so important? Something else had to be going on. He’d find out what tonight.

  “I was in trial all day,” he said. “I didn’t get your messages until five-thirty.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to miss the chance of getting my bowl back. Now quit talking to me or nothing will happen.” She smiled sweetly and extended her hand to dismiss him.

  Reese grasped her fingers and squeezed. When she released her grip, he picked up his coffee, dropped a bill on the counter and moved to an empty table where he could keep an eye on her.

  He pried open the lid of the foam take-out cup, shaking his head as he remembered Taki’s disapproval of the nonbiodegradable material. The woman wanted to save the world.

  Steam floated up to his face, bringing with it an aroma of coffee.

  Letting the brew cool a bit, he waited before taking the first sip and continued to observe the crowded room. He noted Javi did the same, but the agent blended in with the casually dressed clientele a lot better than Reese did in his tailored suit.

  He probably stuck out as obviously as Taki.

  What the hell was he doing here? He had too much work for these kinds of games. When he’d received Taki’s messages, he’d been torn between outrage and worry. Unable to let her face unknown danger alone, he’d called Javi and asked him to meet them at Puerto Sagua.

  Outside the winter light faded to darkness, but no one approached her, although more than one male customer openly ogled her ethereal blond beauty.

  Izzo certainly wasn’t in sight. Not that Reese thought this meeting had anything to do with him. Just another dead end, another wild-goose chase courtesy of Wacky Taki.

  Reese sipped the strong coffee. She might be a little nuts, but he had to admit she was plenty easy on the eyes. Taki barely touched the food she’d ordered. She did drink four glasses of water, however, and occasionally would wrinkle her cute nose and wave off smoke from the grill that drifted her way.

  At six forty-five, she scanned the back of the room and gave a disappointed shrug when their gazes locked. She picked up her check and slid off the stool.

  Agreeing that it was time to give up, Reese pushed through the front door while Taki dealt with the cashier. He noted she used cash.

  The night seemed oppressively dark when he exited the restaurant. Fast-moving clouds obscured the moon, and a brisk wind sent leaves scattering across the sidewalk. He buttoned his jacket against the crisp evening air. A cold front had swept into South Florida, and the thermometer would dip into the forties tonight. A rare event.

  Wrapping a wool cape around her slight frame, Taki stepped onto the sidewalk.

  “Where are you parked?” he asked when she moved beside him.

  “I’m in the public lot over on Washington.” She glanced at his rented Ford sitting in a no-parking zone in front of the popular restaurant.

  “I was late, remember?” Reese said, wondering why he felt defensive.

  She raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

  “Come on. I’ll give you a ride to your car.” He opened the passenger door and motioned her in.

  When Reese pulled his door shut, the quiet in the interior of the sedan made him feel as if he’d just locked out the world and had Taki all to himself. Not a bad feeling.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said in what had to be the most sincere thanks he’d ever received.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I’m sorry you wasted your time.”

  “I’m sorry no one showed.”

  “Me, too.” She sighed, obviously frustrated. “What went wrong? Why didn’t they come?”

  “Good question.”

  “The note didn’t say to come alone,” she mused. “Although they couldn’t have known you were with me.”

  Reese suppressed a chuckle. He’d think she’d been watching too much television, but doubted she watched the TV much, if ever, what with all that negative energy emanating from the screen. Wouldn’t be good for that karmic debt.

  “Maybe you’ll be contacted again.”

  “I sure hope so,” she said.

  “I hope you understand why I couldn’t return your calls?”

  “Your secretary explained. I know you’re a busy man.”

  Her voice sounded sympathetic, as if he had terminal cancer.

  “Let me see the photo,” he said.

  She dug in a multicolored fabric bag that featured images of an elephant, its strap snug between her breasts, and produced a color picture of a brass bowl with swirling patterns etched into the metal.

  Reese studied the image, briefly disappointed there was no sign of his briefcase in the background. He recognized the headline of today’s newspaper. Definitely a recent photo.

  “You’re sure it’s your bowl?”

  “Positive.”

  He flipped the photo and read the note, finding nothing that would lead to its author. The way the note had been created screamed amateur. Or again, maybe too many TV crime shows. No way was Romero involved.

  He lifted his gaze back to her serious face. “Is there any chance your student was playing a mean trick on you?”

  She reacted to that idea as if he had struck her. “Ben would never do that.”

  He studied her. We’ll see about that. “Okay. Can I keep this?”

  “I guess.”

  “I want to send it to the FBI lab. Maybe they can find a clue to our mystery.”

  She brightened at his plan. “Good idea. Thanks.”

  He started the engine and pulled onto Collins Avenue. She remained silent, probably lost in mystical thoughts as they drove the short distance to her Jeep. He needed to learn why the bowl was so damned important to her.

  “I’m going to follow you home,” Reese told her when he pulled behind her vehicle.

  “That’s okay,” she said too quickly. “You don’t need to.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But—”

  “We don’t know who was in that restaurant, but they know who you are.”

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened, and for the first time he noted a hint of worry.

  “I need to make sure you get home safely.”

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Just don’t break any speed limits this time.”

  She nodded, exited the car and climbed into her Jeep.

  After driving a few blocks, Reese called Javi, who followed him, checking for a tail.

  “You see anything inside the restaurant?” Reese asked.

  “Nada,” Javi said. “I had another agent posted outside, and she didn’t notice anything, either. None of Romero’s known people were there. Other than the usual South Beach freaks
, no one suspicious.”

  “Do I have a tail?”

  “You’re clear.”

  “Thanks, Javi. Appreciate the help tonight.”

  “Hey, no problem, Reese. Anytime you need help with that blonde, you just let me know. I’m your man.”

  “I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” Reese said, refusing to react to Javi’s comment, and disconnected.

  When Taki turned into the brick driveway of an impressive Miami Beach home, Reese pulled in behind her and released a low whistle at the affluent surroundings. Soft illumination highlighted a three-tiered flowing fountain in the center of a landscaped oval. Overgrown red bougainvillea lined the facade of a handsome coral-colored villa beneath a clay tile roof. He estimated the gated estate covered at least two acres directly on Biscayne Bay.

  He’d pictured Taki in some sort of rustic commune, or perhaps even a tent, not in an exclusive waterfront mansion. Well, well. Wasn’t this an interesting turn of events.

  She jumped from her Jeep and walked toward him. He now recognized the relaxed way she moved, a fluid lilt to her slim hips he found mesmerizing. But the expression on her face told him she debated some huge problem.

  Reese lowered his window, the motor issuing a quiet hum.

  She bent her knees to bring her face level with his. “Thanks for following me home.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Were we followed?” Eyes wide, she glanced toward the quiet residential street.

  Reese smiled. “I don’t think so.”

  Taki returned her gaze to his face and released a big sigh. “Well, then—”

  “You wouldn’t have any herbal tea, would you?” he asked.

  “Um...well...sure,” she said. “Lots of it.” She nodded toward the house. “So would you...like to come in?”

  “I’d love to.”

  Reese set the rental’s alarm with a shrill beep, thinking, Why bother? It hadn’t kept Izzo out of the Jag. Truth was, car alarms sounded so frequently in Miami everyone ignored them. Taki grabbed her bag from the Jeep and slung it over one shoulder. He followed her to a small building behind the main house that had probably once been a free-standing garage.