Chapter 22
Ihugged the tank, and the wind whistled my helmet. The engine revved, and the exhaust howled as I cruised across the island to the Chateau Del Mar.
I didn't bother to disturb Jack. He needed his rest.
The Chateau, and I use the term loosely, was on the edge of Jamaica Village. I turned onto Channel View Court and looked for a place to park the bike.
The street was crowded, and most of the cars parked at the curb had taken a beating. Drenched in the sun, there were plenty of faded, peeling paint, door dings and scrapes, and a few bullet holes. Drunk drivers, wayward baseballs, bicycles… all posed a threat.
I parked the bike at the curb, killed the engine, and pulled off my helmet. I ran my fingers through my hair to straighten it out. My eyes surveyed the area, and it didn't take long to spot a stakeout. I knew one when I saw one.
Tonya sat in a dark gray Mustang with black rims and trim at the end of the block.
It was a nice shiny new car with gray paint that gleamed in the sun.
It stood out like a sore thumb. I don't know how long she’d been sitting there, casing out the joint, but this wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where you wanted to sit in your car twiddling your thumbs for an extended period of time.
Someone was likely to put a gun to your head and take your shiny new vehicle.
Something told me Tonya had a pistol in her lap and could take care of herself.
I hopped off the bike and strolled in her direction.
A couple of kids threw a football around in the yard of Sherry’s building. It was a rectangular cinderblock dump with eight units down and eight units up. It had drab olive green paint and looked like Army barracks. The grass was patchy, and the walkways were in desperate need of edging.
Tonya tensed as I approached her vehicle. A flash of my badge disarmed her somewhat. She was a good-looking woman with a petite frame, elegant features, a small nose, and big brown eyes. Easy to look at.
"What can I do for you, officer?"
"You planning on knocking off the place?"
Her brow wrinkled. "Excuse me?”
"You're casing out Apartment #108, aren't you?”
"I'm sorry, but you’ve got me mistaken for someone else.”
I shook my head. "You’re Tonya Hart, aren't you?”
She looked stunned.
"Where's your boss? The White Rabbit?"
She stammered. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"
"Deputy Wild with Coconut County. Look, I know what you're after. I know the woman in Apartment #108 has it. People have already killed for it. How about you tell me exactly what's in that Easter egg?”
Tonya hesitated for a long moment.
“Two people are dead.”
After a beat, she said. “I can’t discuss client business.”
“I’m gonna say it again. Two people are dead. I want to know what’s going on.”
“Am I breaking the law? Have I committed a crime?”
“Not yet. But if you’ve got ideas about breaking into that apartment to recover whatever it is you’re after, then you’re going to be on my bad side. I don’t think you want that.”
She gave me a flat look. “Okay, lawman.”
“Evelyn was selling corporate secrets, and you’re brokering the deal.”
“I’m not doing anything. I’m just sitting here, minding my own business. And you’re starting to attract attention.”
I stared at her for a long moment. “You know this is a dangerous neighborhood.”
“Do I look scared?”
As sweet as she appeared, I figured Tonya could handle herself.
“Look, Tonya,” I said, leaning against the door.
“You tell your boss to get in touch with me. I don’t care what kind of deal you’ve got working or who you’re brokering the data to.
If my hunch is right, Rory had Evelyn killed.
I want him and whoever else is responsible behind bars. ” I handed her a card.
She took it and looked it over before starting the Mustang. The engine roared. Tonya put it into gear and pulled away from the curb.
I called Isabella as I walked back to the bike. “I need another favor. I was just talking to a lovely young woman. Can you pinpoint and track any devices that were near mine on Channel View?”