Motor Mouth

like the joy fairy had just unlocked the door to the bakery. “Really? How much later?”
    “After we get cleared of murder and grand-theft auto.”
    “Do you think we could shorten that to…
in fifteen minutes
?”
    “I thought it would give you an incentive.”
    “You think I need more incentive than not going to jail for the rest of my life?”
    “Okay. Fine. Great. Just forget it then. I didn’t mean it anyway.” And I turned and flounced out of the room and down the stairs. I wasn’t all that annoyed, but it seemed like a good exit line.
    Hooker was close behind me. “Too late to take it back. You promised.”
    “I didn’t promise. I said maybe.”
    We were in the dining room and Hooker pushed me against the wall and leaned into me and kissed me. There was a lot of tongue involved in the kiss, and Hooker pressed against me until there wasn’t any space left between us, and it was obvious there was more of Hooker than there had been five minutes ago.
    “Tell me about the maybe,” Hooker said. “Was it a
probably
or was it a
probably not
.”
    “I don’t know. I’m working on it.”
    “You’re killing me,” Hooker said. “You’re more of a threat than Ray Huevo. And by the way, I like that you’ve got your hand on my ass.”
    Crap! He was right. I had my hand on his ass.
    “Sorry,” I said. “It was an accident.”
    Hooker was grinning. “It was no accident, darlin’. You’re hot for me.”
    I smiled back at him and shoved him away. “You’re right, but it’s still a maybe.”
    When we got to the kitchen, Hooker filled a bowl with water for Beans. Beans put his face into it and did a lot of loud slurping. The water slopped over the sides when he drank, and when he picked his head up, the water leaked out of his mouth and dripped off his lips.
    I mopped up the water with paper towels while Hooker called Ray Huevo.
    “I’m in town,” Hooker said. “Do you want to talk?”
    There was some negotiation and Hooker hung up.
    “I’m meeting him on the beach in a half hour,” Hooker said. “At Lincoln Road. I declined on a boat meeting. I didn’t want to get thrown off his boat again. And this meeting is between Ray and me. I want you and Beans to stay here.”
    “And why is that?”
    “I don’t trust Ray. I don’t want to put you in jeopardy.”
    “I appreciate the thought, but there’s no way you’re going without me. We’re in this together. And suppose someone gets the crap beat out of them? You think I want to miss that?”
    “My fear is that it might be me,” Hooker said.
    The compromise was that we left Beans in Felicia’s house and I went with Hooker. Hooker had stripped down to a T-shirt and jeans when we arrived in Miami. I’d been left with jeans and a long-sleeved turtleneck, making me a tad conspicuous on South Beach. You could be naked on South Beach and not cause a ripple of excitement. A turtleneck shouted tourist, fresh off the plane. Hooker parked the rental on the street, and I popped into a shop and swapped my turtleneck for a tank top.
    The Ritz-Carlton sits at the end of Lincoln Road, and a pretty bricked footpath gently undulates alongside the hotel, giving beach access to all. We took the footpath and walked out onto the hard-packed sand. It was a breathtaking blue-sky day in Miami. Eighty degrees with a gentle breeze. The beach is white sand and wide here. The Ritz had its royal blue beach chairs out in orderly rows. Plus a row of cabanas. There were some bronzed and oiled-up bodies on the lounges. Attendants moved from body to body, serving drinks, handing out towels. The ocean rolled in on foamy waves. No one was swimming.
    I looked over Hooker’s shoulder and saw three men step off the footpath onto the sand. Ray Huevo, Rodriguez, and Lucca. Rodriguez was on crutches. He had a Band-Aid across his nose and two black eyes. Lucca’s six-pack bruise was turning green. Ray Huevo looked like a billion dollars.
    Huevo moved toward us. Rodriguez and Lucca stayed behind.
    “How’s his knee?” I asked Huevo.
    “He’ll live.” He glanced back at Rodriguez. “For a while.”
    Hooker and I exchanged a look that said
yikes
.
    “For security purposes, I would prefer this conversation was one-on-one,” Huevo said.
    I nodded agreement, and Hooker and Huevo walked away from me. They stood at the water’s edge, their conversation lost in the surf. After a couple minutes, they turned and walked back.
    Huevo inclined his head when he passed me.