The Lottery Winner. Emilie Rose
my associates unwisely.”
He winced. Miri didn’t have a mean bone in her body. That was as close to a low blow as she’d get. Because it was true—he hadn’t always been wise. His failure to see the situation right in front of him was the reason she had no cash reserves or retirement funds.
“Speaking of leeches and losers...that one’s a prime example,” Miri added in a waspy tone. He twisted to follow her scowling gaze and spotted the private detective he employed crossing the dining room. She shot I a scathing look when he took a seat. “I wish you’d hold your business fleecings elsewhere.”
The PI ignored Miri’s insult and smiled. “Well, if it ain’t my little ray of Florida sunshine. Always a pleasure to see you, too, Miri.” He delivered the words in an exaggerated version of his New Jersey accent, which seemed to irritate Logan’s aunt even more.
“What kind of name is I, anyway?” she snapped.
“Nobody can spell Ignatius. I save ’em the trouble by keeping it short and sweet. Kind of like you do, Miriam Louise.”
Logan’s aunt stiffened at the use of her given name, then stomped back into the kitchen. Logan shook his head. “Why do you needle her?”
“She started it. She treats me like a dog shit on her shoe. That whole lip-curling thing bugs the crap out of me. And what in the hell is wrong with using my initial?”
Miri got along with everyone. Why not I? The two had been at each other’s throats since their first meeting over a year ago.
“Anything?” Logan asked the PI.
“Nope. Trail went cold in Porto Alegre, Brazil.”
“Two people can’t just vanish.” Frustration killed Logan’s appetite. He pushed the unfinished meal aside.
“Your wife and business partner have. For now. They’ll turn up eventually. Finding them depends on how much money you want to spend. Me, I’d say good riddance and cut my losses.”
“Ex-wife and ex–business partner,” he corrected. “I can’t let this go. They destroyed my reputation when they embezzled our clients’ funds. No reputable firm will hire me.”
“What’s wrong with the setup you got here? You get a free meal every night. You got a decent place to stay. You set your own hours and make enough to get by doing people’s taxes. What else do you need?”
“I want them to admit what they did and clear my name.”
“Hate to tell ya, Nash, but even if we find ’em and they’re extradited to the States and they sing like canaries, it won’t get the stench off ya. Stuff like that tends to stick.”
Logan refused to accept that. He’d done nothing criminal, and he had to prove it. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
I shrugged. “Your dime. But don’t say I didn’t warn ya. You gonna finish that?”
“No.”
I snagged the dish, pulled it closer and shoved an untouched slider into his mouth. “Damn, that woman can cook,” he said.
“What do you make of her?” Logan nodded toward the brunette waitress.
“Hot. Yours?”
“Nah. Miri’s new hire. See the way she watches the door?”
I nodded. “She got outstanding warrants? Or an abusive ex?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d find out. Something’s got her jumpy.”
“I will. Don’t doubt it. I’ll be damned if someone else steals from Miri on my watch.”
JESSIE REFILLED THE last saltshaker and wiped down the table, then straightened and stretched the kinks from her spine. Her body ached from the unaccustomed exercise—but in a good way. She blinked her tired, gritty eyes. It was time to go home and remove these irritating contacts.
She stopped beside the final open window and let the peace of the empty dining room settle over her. Water lapped outside the building, and a gentle breeze drifted in. She loved the concept of a restaurant constructed on a pier so low to the water that the fish swam close enough for the customers to drop food to them and watch them gobble it up.
The music went silent, and the lights illuminating the water went dark, jarring Jessie into action. She closed and latched the window. If her brother found out she was outside the compound after dark, he’d never stop lecturing. But she should be safe. No one except her family knew she was in Key West, and it was only a half mile’s walk to where she’d parked her rental car at the opposite end of the well-lit boardwalk. She’d thought it better to keep the vehicle as far away from the restaurant as possible just in case Brandon’s paranoia wasn’t all in his head.
Miri came out of the kitchen, followed by the good-looking guy who’d been seated at the oyster bar most of the evening. Something about the way he’d scrutinized Jessie’s every move tonight had made her nervous. That uneasiness intensified now with him only two yards away. He wasn’t part of the kitchen staff, so who was he?
“You did a great job tonight, Jessie.”
“Thanks, Miri.”
Miri indicated her companion with a flip of her fingers. “Jessie, my nephew, Logan Nash.”
The one who drove the restaurateur nuts with his interference? He looked only a few years older than Jessie. His hair was as black as the cormorant’s wings and his eyes, as blue as the noon sky, stared at her with suspicion.
Jessie wrung the wet rag in her hands and nodded but said nothing and didn’t offer her hand. He nodded in return.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” Miri asked.
A wad of bills weighted Jessie’s pocket. Tonight’s tips would be enough to get by for a while. But for how long? Not six more weeks, for sure.
“I ask because someone is coming in for an interview in the morning,” Miri added when Jessie hesitated. “If she works out, I’ll have her shadow you tomorrow night.”
Jessie dug her nails deeper into the cotton. She’d promised to train her replacements. And Miri needed a buffer between her and the human cormorant. Should she risk it? Going back to solitary confinement after an evening of interacting with people sounded like torture. But no one should recognize her here. Not with her disguise.
She took a deep breath and answered, “I’ll be here,” before she could change her mind.
“Great, hon. You don’t know how much I appreciate it.”
Logan tugged the bank bag from Miri’s hands. “I’ll give Jessie a ride home on my way to drop off tonight’s deposit.”
Objections blossomed in Jessie’s head. Miri’s startled expression, which quickly transformed to one of worry, confirmed Jessie’s reservations. “Thanks, but I, um...have my car.”
“Miri’s is the only one in the lot.”
“I parked nearby.”
“I’ll walk you to it.”
His forceful tone made her hackles rise. It was one thing for her father or brother to boss her around—or, as they said, “strongly encourage”—but she wasn’t taking orders from a stranger. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ll be fine.”
“It’s almost midnight.”
“I have pepper spray.”
His nostrils flared in obvious irritation and his mouth opened, but Miri laid a hand on his arm. “Leave her be, Logan. After her busy night, Jessie probably needs to