Chapter Seven A Posh Evening
Chapter Seven
A Posh Evening
Mikey was pacing the floor again, waiting for his instructions.
He almost jumped out of his skin when the burner phone rang.
“Yeah?” The voice on the other end proceeded to bark out his lists of demands.
Mikey’s stomach was churning. “Yes, I did. Yes, I understand. But, like I said, it’s going to take a little time.
Too many incidents in a row is gonna rain down all kinds of hellfire. ”
The voice simply told him, “You are going to have to figure it out.”
Mikey hung up and continued to pace. He looked at the list and tried to plan what his next move should be.
Arlo walked in as Mikey was raking his fingers through his hair. “What’s up, bro?”
“We, as in you and me, gotta get the ball rolling on this.”
“Yeah. Okay. But I think I found a place where we can launch a boat with nobody seeing us.”
“We don’t have time for that, Arlo.” Mikey was sweating.
Arlo scratched his head. He wasn’t sure if he should tell Mikey about their early visitor. Mikey seemed pretty riled up already. Just then the office phone rang.
Mikey answered, “Farrell’s Dive Shop.”
The voice on the other end asked when they expected the dive team to return the following day.
Mikey shot a concerned expression at his brother.
“Uh-huh. Arlo told you we were running one tomorrow?” Mikey listened and replied.
“Probably around five.” Another pause. “No, Arlo didn’t tell me about the clam boat.
” Mikey’s temperature was rising. “Yeah. Well, you know how rumors get started around here.” Another pause. “Right. See you tomorrow.”
Mikey turned toward Arlo. “So now they think the ‘borrowed’ clam boat has something to do with the break-in?” He used air quotes around the word borrowed.
“Ah, don’t worry about it. They have no clue.” Arlo was rather confident with his latest schemes.
“Yeah, well, we’re both gonna have to worry about it, because Mr. Mystery wants results, pronto.”
Madison’s intercom phone rang. “Must be the car service. You can leave your things here. I’ll want to come back and change before we head back home.”
Viggo liked her use of the word home. He nodded toward the small duffel bag he brought. “I can shove my stuff in there.”
“Perfect. I already have my clothes ready. Mr. Jinx is keeping an eye on them.”
“Mr. Jinx?” Viggo cocked his head.
“Yes, my stuffed kitty.” She almost blushed. “He’s been my support animal over the years.” She giggled.
Viggo couldn’t help but smile. There was a very tender side to Madison that she rarely exposed. But he understood. He knew about her past but never brought it up. It was going to be her decision should she want to discuss it. It had to have been extremely hard on her and Lincoln.
“Everyone needs a support animal. I’ve got my pal Diogo.”
“And I have Mario and Luigi, but Mr. Jinx has been with me since I was a kid. In fact, Uncle Kirby gave him to me for my seventh birthday.”
“Interesting how things go around and come around,” Viggo said thoughtfully.
“Very true.” Madison hadn’t made the connection until that moment. Uncle Kirby and Mr. Jinx had been watching over her for a long time. She grabbed her purse. “Shall we?”
“We shall.” Viggo followed Madison to the front door, where his dress shoes waited for him, and her stylish saddle shoes waited for her.
As they passed Raul, the doorman, Madison remembered the earlier caller. “Raul, someone was here a few hours ago asking for me but left before Hector could ask who he was.”
“No worries, Ms. Wainwright. I’ll check the CCTV during my break.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure. You look lovely this evening. And you as well, sir. I mean Captain. You look rather handsome.”
Both thanked Raul in unison, left the building, and walked toward the waiting car. The driver opened the rear passenger door. “Good evening, Ms. Wainwright.”
“Hello, Steven. Nice to see you,” Madison replied. “It’s been a while.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” the driver said as Madison entered the vehicle. Viggo was next.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time at the shore. We were working on my Uncle Kirby’s marina.”
“Marina? Sounds delightful,” Steven said.
“Not at first,” Madison said, and guffawed. “But it’s quite nice now.”
“Yes, it is,” Viggo agreed. He witnessed firsthand the magic Lincoln, Madison, and their team bestowed on the dock.
Traffic was light. The city was quieter on the weekends in the summer. Those who could flee to a more comfortable environment dashed out Thursday nights or as early as possible on Friday.
The car pulled up to Mezze on the River.
Several cars were discharging passengers, and guests were entering the restaurant.
Madison instructed Viggo to go inside and look for Victor and have a cocktail.
She would meet up with him shortly. Then she stood near the entrance and welcomed the invitees as they approached.
She looked radiant. Relaxed. Viggo admired her in her element.
Would she really be happy at the shore? he wondered.
Before he could consider it more, he was swept into the restaurant along with a crowd.
He realized he could really use a drink.
Fifteen minutes later, Madison moved through the crowd in search of her date.
He was laughing at something Victor had said.
Madison was right that Viggo could hold his own.
Not that she doubted it, but as the saying goes, you never know.
She was aware that this was a far cry from a night out in Smuggler’s Cove, but he appeared to fit right in. At least with her posse.
“Ah, there she is. The queen of all things beautiful.” Victor lifted his glass. “And your friend is quite handsome, too.” They air-kissed each other on each cheek. “Mwah. Mwah.”
“You are looking quite fab yourself, Victor. Not that I would expect anything less. And you as well, Joel.”
“We make quite the handsome couples, don’t we,” Victor said with wide eyes.
Madison gave him her signature squint, as if to say, mind your p’s and q’s.
They had their own secret “facial expression” language from many, many meetings over many, many years.
Victor responded with pursed lips in a silent ooh.
Madison shot him another stink-eye look.
Joel kept looking back and forth, as if he were at a tennis match, and finally settled on Viggo’s face.
“Do you know these people?” he asked sardonically.
“Hardly. I was walking on the sidewalk, minding my own business, when a black town car pulled along the curb and this woman rolled down the window and demanded that I get in the car.” He tilted his head slightly in Madison’s direction.
“Well, I might have done the same thing if I saw you walking on the sidewalk.” Victor snorted, and Viggo laughed out loud.
Madison was thrilled that two of the most important men in her life were getting along swimmingly. Madison noticed one of their new advertisers several feet away. She addressed Victor, “Keep an eye on him, please. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll keep both eyes on him,” Victor teased. “Take your time.”
Viggo could not wipe the smile off his face if you pointed a gun at him. His gaze followed Madison as he observed her interaction with one of the clients.
“She’s quite the mover and shaker,” Joel remarked.
“That’s one of the reasons why we love her,” Victor said and turned toward Viggo, seeking a response. “Right?”
The word love startled him, yet he remained collected. “She is quite something, isn’t she.” He was surely enjoying the moment.
“Yes. Something and a half,” Victor replied. “I’m curious,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “Madison never brings a plus-one to any event. How did you manage to get an invite from the ice queen?”
Viggo blinked several times. “Ice queen?”
“We only call her that because she’s always wearing white, and she is always cool as a cucumber,” Victor explained. “But don’t get her mad.” He feigned caution. “She will whip out that ice pick and make you cry.”
Joel was obviously used to Victor’s cheeky sarcasm and gave Viggo an eye roll. “Don’t mind him. They only let him out for special occasions.”
Viggo was highly amused. If this were how the rest of the evening was going to progress, it would surely be hilarious.
He turned his attention back to Madison.
Viggo tried not to stare, but there was something curious about the man she was speaking with.
Viggo couldn’t see his face, but his demeanor and movements were familiar.
When the man lifted his glass as a gesture for a refill, Viggo noticed something rather flashy on his wrist. You couldn’t miss it, which was exactly the point.
He scanned the room, looking for other luxury watches.
A chunk of gold or silver, with or without diamonds, hung on every wrist he could see.
He turned to Victor. “Do you know who Madison is talking to?”
Victor casually glanced in their direction. “Not sure. Can’t see his face. Must be one of the new money men. Why do you ask? You can’t possibly be jealous. He barely has hair.”
Viggo snickered. “Jealous? No, not at all. He just seemed familiar to me.”
“All those financial guys look alike, all trying to outdistance each other. Who has the most expensive clothes, shoes, boats, houses? Keeping up with the Joneses is now keeping up with the billionaire boys’ club.
” Victor sipped his scotch. “If I had that kind of money, I would be on an island having someone rub my feet.”
“I’m sure he does that, too,” Viggo said, acknowledging Victor’s point.
“Yes, but I would make it a daily habit, all year long.” He looked at Joel. “Oh, dearie, I wouldn’t expect you to rub my feet. I’d hire someone to do that for you.”
“You are too generous,” Joel said with a straight face.
It appeared Madison was winding down her conversation with “Mr. Big Bucks.” Then she started heading back toward her clique. Viggo asked the waiter for another glass of champagne, which he handed to Madison when she returned.