Page 54 of Look for Me

Since they both liked the beach so much, neither refused to leave Key Largo. After their spouses had died, they patched up their differences.

Now they were called back to action again.

It took two days for the trio to track down the SUV that carried the two hunky men who ran Martin’s car off the road on Monday night. Perhaps two days were a feat to some, but to Martin, it felt like forever.

Nevertheless, here they were.

The SUV had a stolen tag.

Tracking the story with their Private Investigator hats, Pete and Angelina scoured news reports until they found an interview with the original owner who had a security camera in his garage that recorded the theft.

The police sketch of the man looked like one of the two men in the SUV.

On Wednesday, Pete dusted his old PI business card, drove up to Miami, and found the owner of the car whose tag had been stolen. Pete found out that the man knew the thieves. He had reported them to the police because they wouldn’t pay him squat for something else.

Pete paid him whatever he needed—out of Martin’s bank—and the dude talked like a parakeet.

Pete returned to Key Largo triumphant and loaded with new information, such as the name of the two men. It had turned out that when the two men came to Key Largo to find Dahlia—whom they knew as Gail—they had recruited a third man, then dumped him on the wayside once they had what they wanted from him.

When Martin found out what Pete had discovered, he swallowed his pride and called Pilar again, adding a condition that his team would be involved.

Thursday night came, and Pilar let Martin, Pete, and Angelina sit in the back of her rental van, while she went inside the Coconut Sunset Club.

Unfortunately, two hours later, Pilar did not emerge.

Martin decided he would go in. He found himself wandering—or trying to—down a dark hallway.

“Off limits, sir.” A burly man twice Martin’s height said.

Well, okay, he wasn’t exactlytwiceMartin’s height, but he must be at least six foot seven. However, he was twice Martin’s width. His arms were huge—

“You cannot come in here.”

“Sorry, I’m…”

“What are you looking for?” Mr. Burly asked again.

“He’s looking for me,” a sweet voice said behind Martin.

He turned to find himself staring up at a woman with a face painted like a mask. She was smiling through thick lips and even thicker eyelashes. Her sequined dress sparkled as she changed position from one stiletto heel to the other.

She dipped her head down at Martin. Eyed him with a “you poor thing” look. Not one of disdain, but more a pity that he had to be here at all, outside his elements.

Or something like that.

Martin felt rather small with all these tall people around him, as though he had turned into a short elf all of a sudden.

The woman put a palm out. “Let’s have it.”

“How do I know you’re the one?” Martin asked.

She laughed. Then placed a hand on Martin where no one other than his wife should—

“Stop it.” Martin clenched his fingers and walked away.

He couldn’t get through the crowd of dancers. He tried walking around them, but the tables were full now. Someone spilled drinks on his shirt.

“Hey, watch it!” It was the same woman, who had apparently followed him.

---