humor,” she said.
“The Merchants Association doesn’t think it’s funny,” he said.
“They’re taking this very seriously.”
“Then why not just retire the statue?” Kayla asked.
“That was my suggestion,” Alex said. “But it’s not the way
these things work. The group paid a local artist a pretty penny to create that
statue. Santa has a lot of fans.”
“But it’s so...” Kayla’s voice trailed off for fear of
insulting him.
“Crass?” he supplied.
That was exactly what Kayla had been about to say. By
emphasizing materialism, the statue focused on the wrong side of the
holiday.
“Don’t worry about offending me,” he said. “I spoke out against
the statue from the beginning. Nothing would make me happier than to get it off
the street.”
“Then why are you in charge of hiring a private investigator?”
she asked.
“Just because I was against the Santa doesn’t mean I want to
see our group embarrassed,” he said. “We need to find out who’s doing this. Or
at the very least, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Then you came to the right place.” Kayla injected confidence
into her voice even though she was already wondering how a one-woman operation
would manage twenty-four-hour surveillance on the statue. “Let me tell you our
rates.”
She had to go to her uncle’s file and rummage through a sheaf
of papers before finding a listing of costs. The hourly rate seemed high to her.
Alex didn’t blink.
“That intersection with the Santa is a pretty high-traffic
area,” she said, referring more to the cars that passed by the spot than the
pedestrians. “You said Santa’s already been messed with twice. It seems likely
somebody saw the prankster in action.”
“I’m sure that’s something you’ll look into.”
She planned to do exactly that. She just wasn’t sure how to go
about it.
“It’s settled, then.” Alex stood up and reached across the
desk, offering his hand.
Kayla took it, the warmth of his grip seeming to travel through
every inch of her body. She almost cried out in protest when he let go of her
hand.
“Here are my numbers.” He took a business card out of his
wallet and laid it on the desk. “I’d like to be updated daily and whenever
there’s a new development.”
“Certainly.” She hoped she sounded sufficiently
professional.
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” He strode toward the
exit, pausing to turn around before he reached it. The grin that made him even
more handsome was back on his face. “I forgot to tell you. Nice skirt. Yellow
never looked so good.”
With that, he left. Kayla brought her hands to her hot cheeks,
not sure what disconcerted her more: Alex Suarez or the prospect of conducting a
solo investigation.
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE PRICKLY SENSATION on the back of Maria’s neck started before she’d gotten
halfway to her destination.
During her years in law enforcement, she’d learned to trust her
intuition. It had served her well on occasions too numerous to count. Such as
the time she was chasing a suspect and ducked into an alley just before he
turned on her and fired.
Now her sixth sense was telling her someone was following
her.
She’d decided to visit the post office before appealing to Key
Carl for help. The directions she’d gotten off the internet took her west on
Duval Street, a tourist-heavy thoroughfare that cut a swath through the heart of
Key West. The farther west she walked, the more numerous the bars, specialty
shops, restaurants and pedestrians became. Trolley cars shared space on the road
with bicycles, cars and mopeds.
It seemed as if anything was accepted here. She passed a statue
of Santa Claus holding a fistful of cash, with the message to spend it in Key
West, and a man dressed in the same shade of green as the feathers on the large
talking parrot on his shoulder. A woman whose arms and legs were completely
covered in colorful tattoos rode by on a scooter. A belly dancer who had a
“The Merchants Association doesn’t think it’s funny,” he said.
“They’re taking this very seriously.”
“Then why not just retire the statue?” Kayla asked.
“That was my suggestion,” Alex said. “But it’s not the way
these things work. The group paid a local artist a pretty penny to create that
statue. Santa has a lot of fans.”
“But it’s so...” Kayla’s voice trailed off for fear of
insulting him.
“Crass?” he supplied.
That was exactly what Kayla had been about to say. By
emphasizing materialism, the statue focused on the wrong side of the
holiday.
“Don’t worry about offending me,” he said. “I spoke out against
the statue from the beginning. Nothing would make me happier than to get it off
the street.”
“Then why are you in charge of hiring a private investigator?”
she asked.
“Just because I was against the Santa doesn’t mean I want to
see our group embarrassed,” he said. “We need to find out who’s doing this. Or
at the very least, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Then you came to the right place.” Kayla injected confidence
into her voice even though she was already wondering how a one-woman operation
would manage twenty-four-hour surveillance on the statue. “Let me tell you our
rates.”
She had to go to her uncle’s file and rummage through a sheaf
of papers before finding a listing of costs. The hourly rate seemed high to her.
Alex didn’t blink.
“That intersection with the Santa is a pretty high-traffic
area,” she said, referring more to the cars that passed by the spot than the
pedestrians. “You said Santa’s already been messed with twice. It seems likely
somebody saw the prankster in action.”
“I’m sure that’s something you’ll look into.”
She planned to do exactly that. She just wasn’t sure how to go
about it.
“It’s settled, then.” Alex stood up and reached across the
desk, offering his hand.
Kayla took it, the warmth of his grip seeming to travel through
every inch of her body. She almost cried out in protest when he let go of her
hand.
“Here are my numbers.” He took a business card out of his
wallet and laid it on the desk. “I’d like to be updated daily and whenever
there’s a new development.”
“Certainly.” She hoped she sounded sufficiently
professional.
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” He strode toward the
exit, pausing to turn around before he reached it. The grin that made him even
more handsome was back on his face. “I forgot to tell you. Nice skirt. Yellow
never looked so good.”
With that, he left. Kayla brought her hands to her hot cheeks,
not sure what disconcerted her more: Alex Suarez or the prospect of conducting a
solo investigation.
CHAPTER FOUR
T HE PRICKLY SENSATION on the back of Maria’s neck started before she’d gotten
halfway to her destination.
During her years in law enforcement, she’d learned to trust her
intuition. It had served her well on occasions too numerous to count. Such as
the time she was chasing a suspect and ducked into an alley just before he
turned on her and fired.
Now her sixth sense was telling her someone was following
her.
She’d decided to visit the post office before appealing to Key
Carl for help. The directions she’d gotten off the internet took her west on
Duval Street, a tourist-heavy thoroughfare that cut a swath through the heart of
Key West. The farther west she walked, the more numerous the bars, specialty
shops, restaurants and pedestrians became. Trolley cars shared space on the road
with bicycles, cars and mopeds.
It seemed as if anything was accepted here. She passed a statue
of Santa Claus holding a fistful of cash, with the message to spend it in Key
West, and a man dressed in the same shade of green as the feathers on the large
talking parrot on his shoulder. A woman whose arms and legs were completely
covered in colorful tattoos rode by on a scooter. A belly dancer who had a
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