Whiskey Tango Foxtrot: An Addison Holmes Mystery (Addison Holmes Mysteries Book 5) Page 5

  “Thank you,” I said dryly.

  “Maybe you should think about doing up your eyes a bit. Smudging them at the corners like those models in the Victoria’s Secret catalogs. Now that I look at you closer, you could probably be a ten with the right makeup.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  “I need to take my pain meds,” Anthony said. “I need some water.”

  Kate got up and brought him back a bottled water from the mini-fridge, and we watched as he pulled a prescription bottle out of his shirt pocket and popped a little white pill in his mouth.

  “Are you going to be able to drive home?” Kate asked.

  “I’m good,” he said. “I’ve never gotten pulled over for a DWI before. This stuff hardly even affects me anymore. Gotta take double to take the edge off.”

  Anthony Dunnegan was a horrible and selfish man. I didn’t normally wish people ill, but I was starting to think him losing a kidney was just karma coming back to haunt him.

  “I ordered a third gin and tonic and said fuck it. Drinking was the best option I had at that moment. I really didn’t want to go home, so I figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find a place to sleep it off. If I didn’t end up leaving with the woman beside me then I could make my way to River Street to find a hotel.”

  “So how did you go from a third gin and tonic to missing a kidney?” I asked.

  “The woman ordered a whiskey and made herself comfortable on the barstool. This woman was class. And she had money. You see a lot of women pretend to have money when they’re out trolling, so they fool guys like me that have money into picking them up for the night. And then they rob you blind.”

  I almost asked if he’d had that experience before, but Kate squeezed my thigh. Hard.

  “I figured she was either married to or involved with somebody who had the kind of job that might keep them after hours. Like a doctor or politician. And they stood her up for the night. She wasn’t looking around, scoping out anyone she might be interested in at the bar, so I was thinking maybe she actually enjoyed being in a relationship. She seemed preoccupied, and she kept checking her watch. A Rolex. I was going to offer to buy her a drink, but she didn’t even glance my way. I don’t want to brag, but I can usually get the most monogamous woman to stray. I’ll admit, her disinterest stung. I’m an attractive guy. At least a solid nine, though this surgery has knocked me down to a six for the time being. And I’m rich.” He held up his own Rolex and pointed to it, just to make sure we saw it, I guess.

  “Besides, she wouldn’t have dressed like that if she didn’t want to be noticed.”

  I was starting to get an eye twitch. I could not help this man. He was a horrible human being. Not only was he willing to cheat on his wife, but he was one of those men who thought women deserved what they got if they dressed too sexy. I’d about reached my limit with Anthony Dunnegan.

  I squeezed Kate hard on the knee like she’d done to mine. I needed to get out of here. I needed to go back to my office and lay down on the little memory foam mattress I’d squeezed between the two walls. I wasn’t proud of my living arrangements at the moment, but it beat the hell out of living with my mother.

  I also needed a fucking cookie, so I snatched one off the table and bit into it, thinking I’d turn over a new leaf tomorrow. Tomorrow was Sunday—the Lord’s day. And everyone knew it was easier to stick with dieting commitments when the weight of church guilt was pressing on your shoulders.

  I was drawing little caricatures of Anthony Dunnegan on my notepad. My favorite was the one where he was holding his own head. The image was a little dark for me, but it immediately made me feel better. Or that might have been the cookie.

  Anthony continued his disgusting tale. “We just sat in silence for a while, drinking away our miseries, and all of a sudden she turns to me and says, ‘Want to get out of here?’”

  “Did you introduce yourselves?” I asked. “Get her name?”

  “I didn’t care what her name was,” he said, as if I was a moron for even asking. “I cared that she was hot and that she wouldn’t be yapping in my ear about how she wants a new Porsche because Jennifer’s husband gave her one for her birthday.”

  I might have actually growled low in my throat, but I kept taking notes. I was going to give the people that stole this guy’s kidney a medal when I found them.

  “What time did you leave the bar?” Kate asked.

  “About ten-thirty. I helped her on with her coat and I paid our tabs.”

  “That was real gentlemanly of you,” I said.

  Anthony stared at me, trying to decide if I was making fun of him or not. I was. But sometimes my sarcasm was really subtle.

  “You said you were in walking distance of some hotels?” Kate prompted. “Where’d you go?”

  “Things get hazy at that point. I was pretty hammered, and she wasn’t too steady either. There was a long line for cabs, but there were a few pedi-cabs lined up across the street. I remember it made me laugh. I couldn’t imagine a woman like her riding around the city in a pedi-cab. It was ludicrous. But we climbed in, laughing like two horny teenagers.”

  “Do you remember the pedi-cab company? Or your driver’s name? Maybe a description?”

  “Are you kidding? I was shitfaced and she had her hand down the front of my pants. I wouldn’t have recognized my own mother. All I can tell you is we got in a bright red pedi-cab and our driver was a man. I think. We ended up at another bar. I’m not sure of the name. Charlie’s? Chester’s? I think it was something like that.”

  “How long were you in the pedi-cab?” I asked, thinking I could at least get a radius from where they’d started.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I think I need another pill. It feels like someone set fire to my spine.” He popped another pill and chased it with water. “It was a short ride. All I know is that one minute I’ve got my tongue down her throat and the next I have a case of blue balls that won’t quit. I wasn’t exactly thrilled about stopping at another bar. But she just laughed and told me she’d make it worth my while. Teasing bitch.”

  “Yes, focus on that instead of the fact that she probably scammed you for your kidney,” I said, shaking my head. Anthony didn’t seem to notice. I think his pain pills had started to kick in. He was looking glassy-eyed and a little bit of drool had dripped onto the conference table.

  “Do you remember what direction you headed?”

  “We were headed toward the river. I think. It could’ve been the opposite direction. But it wasn’t a long ride. She paid the pedi-cab driver and we went into the bar, but I don’t remember much about it,” he said, shrugging. “The music was loud and it was a real dive. Raina ordered us a couple of martinis and then we danced for a while.”

  “Wait, who’s Raina?” I asked, confused.

  “The woman,” he slurred. “Aren’t you paying attention? That’s the name she gave me. It’s not her real name, of course. I told her my name was John.” His hands were flying in agitation as we struggled to follow his disjointed explanation. “Things got pretty hot and heavy on the dance floor, so we decided to head to the hotel. We took a couple of to-go cups with us. That bar made a damn good martini. Anyway, I was glad we were leaving and getting down to business. I don’t always do my best work when I’ve had a lot to drink, and I wanted to show her a good time.”

  “I’m sure she was grateful for your thoughtfulness.”

  “That’s what I was thinking too,” he agreed, his smile lopsided. “The cab line was long again, so we hopped in another pedi-cab.”

  “The same one or different this time?” I asked.

  “Different. This one was yellow. I only remember that because the color hurt my eyes. It reminded me of Big Bird.”

  “Which direction did y’all take this time?”

  “I’m not sure. Raina just told the guy to start pedaling and she’d let him know where to stop. Things really got hazy after that. Before I knew what was happening she’d crawled up in my
lap and I found out firsthand she wasn’t wearing any underwear. There’s not much you can do in a situation like that except sit back and enjoy the ride, if you know what I mean. She was real discreet too. Used her fur coat to keep us covered. I do remember telling the driver to keep to the darker and less crowded streets. All I needed was one of my clients or a friend of my wife’s seeing me. She’d take me to the cleaners in a divorce.

  “I can’t tell you how long we rode around for or in which directions. That’s the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. And that’s pretty much where my memory of the night ends. The next thing I know I’m waking up in a bathtub full of ice and I’ve got a pounding headache.”

  “You’ve got no memories after the sex?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I’d literally thought I’d died when I had that orgasm. I saw white lights. I think I maybe took another drink to wet my throat, but it was lights out after that.”

  “What happened after you woke up in the tub?” Kate asked.

  “I had no clue where I was, and my vision was pretty blurry after the anesthesia wore off. I panicked. I knew something was wrong. I couldn’t figure out why I was sitting in the ice bath. And then I saw the little tray of surgical instruments sitting by the sink. Freaked the hell out of me. They were clean, but I just had that gut feeling that someone had used them recently. And then I saw the cell phone next to the tray.

  “I had no idea who I should call. Not my wife. She’d ask too many questions. My partners at the law firm would ask questions too. The police were out, because if I filed a report and opened an investigation then my wife would find out what’d I’d done all night, and I’d be in a hell of a lot more trouble than I already was sitting in a bathtub full of ice. Then I saw the note on the door.”

  Anthony visibly shivered and I had a hard time not doing the same. It sounded like something out of a horror story.

  “What did it say?” I asked.

  “It said if I wanted to live that I needed to call 9-1-1. So that’s what I did. I didn’t get out of the tub. I didn’t do anything. I was too scared. So I called 9-1-1 and sat there and shivered until the manager opened the door for the paramedics.”

  “You’ve been in the hospital for a couple of days and you look like hell,” I said. “How have you been keeping this from your wife? She’s bound to find out.”

  “I told her I was in Charleston on a business trip. She doesn’t really care. The kids are with the nanny and she’s taking some extra tennis lessons with her instructor in the Bahamas. I’ll be good as new in another week. I told the office I had the flu, so I’m working from home.”

  “It must be hard to keep all the lies straight,” I said.

  “Nah, you get used to it. I’m going to lay my head down for a few minutes.”

  Kate and I watched as he lay his head on the conference table and immediately passed out.

  “Mr. Dunnegan,” Kate said. “Mr. Dunnegan?” She shook him this time, but he was out. “Dammit, this place is not a hostel for people doped up on pain meds. What the hell am I supposed to do with him?”

  In any other situation this would’ve been funny. But I mostly wanted to drag Anthony Dunnegan by his heels and leave him in the middle of the street.

  “Maybe we can shove him in a closet,” I said.

  “We don’t have any closets left. We turned the last one into your office.”

  “Then I’m out of ideas. What we really need to talk about is this case. Kate, I hate this man. I hope he caught an STD from that woman in the pedi-cab.”

  Kate sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I’d normally agree with you. My first inclination was to turn him down when he called. He’s an obnoxious ass, and I can’t even imagine what he’s like to deal with when he’s a hundred percent healthy. But there’s a bigger picture here. I did a little digging. Six months ago in Hilton Head, a vacationer was relieved of his heart. He clearly wasn’t as lucky as Anthony Dunnegan, but the police report is in your file. There are some similarities, so this isn’t necessarily about our current client. This is about the other people out there who are possibly being hunted for their organs. I want you to track these guys down. This is a huge case.”

  “Then why in heaven’s name are you giving it to me? Are you out of your mind?”

  Kate smiled and said, “Possibly. But Anthony was right about one thing. You’re tenacious and determined. You’ll see this through to the end. And you also have solid FBI connections, since this ring will most likely fall into federal territory. Everyone here is on notice to help if you need it, including me. But you have a major talent for getting information from people who don’t normally want to give it. You don’t look like a cop like the other guys. Read up on the file and start digging.”

  “Didn’t the police have to file a report when Anthony was taken to the hospital by ambulance?”

  “The hospital reported it to the police like they were supposed to, but it’s the victim’s choice whether or not to file a report. He chose not to file one, so the police didn’t investigate. A man like Anthony Dunnegan has everything to lose if information leaks about him to the wrong people. He’s well acquainted with Nick’s parents, and he’s got his eye on Nick’s grandfather’s senate seat when he retires in a couple of years.”

  “He’s not getting my vote. And last I heard, Nick’s grandfather isn’t planning on retiring. He’s still pretty young and in great health.”

  Nick’s grandfather was the only person in Nick’s family I liked. He was pretty much the only person in Nick’s family that Nick liked too. Nick came from a long line of alcoholics and womanizers on his dad’s side, and on his mother’s side he came from wealthy debutantes that automatically hated anyone who hadn’t inherited family money for the last five generations. I have no idea how Nick turned out so good. His grandfather probably had a lot to do with it.

  “I think Nick’s parents are pushing the retirement angle. They don’t particularly like the senator’s politics,” Kate said, shrugging. “I guess you won’t have to worry about it if you decide not to marry Nick.”

  “Shut up,” I said.

  Kate grinned and I took another cookie. “If you keep eating cookies like that you’re going to put on a lot more than ten pounds.”

  “It’s the stress. Between the marriage proposal and Aunt Scarlet coming to town, I can’t seem to help myself.” I wanted to feel sorry for myself and maybe have a good cry, but I didn’t really have the motivation at the moment. Mostly I was just tired.

  “At least you’re not turning to booze and prostitutes,” Kate said.

  “They have male prostitutes in Savannah?” I asked naively.

  “They’ve got all kinds of prostitutes in Savannah. This town offers a real smorgasbord of sex.”

  “Huh,” I said.

  “Let’s roll the future senator here into Jorgen’s office. He’s visiting his daughter in D.C. until next Tuesday.”

  “How come I never know these things?” I asked. “I could’ve been sleeping in his office.”

  “That’s why we have the big calendar in the break room. Maybe check it every once in a while.”

  “I never go in the break room. Jimmy keeps cooking those frozen burritos in the microwave and they explode. It smells like dirty feet.”

  “Probably better to sleep in your office anyway. Jorgen likes sardines.”

  Chapter Five

  We rolled Anthony Dunnegan to the end of the hallway and into Harry Jorgen’s office. I think it said a lot about the agency that none of the employees even looked twice as we wheeled his office chair down the hall, his head slumped forward on his chest.

  I stopped to check on Aunt Scarlet and saw that she was still sleeping peacefully, so I took the file Kate had given me back to my office so I could get better acquainted with it.

  My office was at the opposite end of the hall from Kate’s, not far from the employee bathroom. It had once been a janitor’s closet, but they’d painted the walls a soft neutral and put n
ew carpet down to turn it into an office. I hadn’t been able to sit in there for long periods of time after the carpet had been laid because the fumes from the glue made me high, but it was mostly gone now, due to the fact I had three Scentsys plugged in. The office smelled like apple pies, which might have been a contributing factor to my constant hunger.

  It had one small desk and a chair, my laptop, a printer, and a floor lamp with an animal print shade that I’d gotten on sale at Pier One. I’d put a round shag rug on the floor in bright red to make the space seem more personable. Shoved against the opposite wall was the thin memory foam mattress I’d miraculously squeezed into the space, covered with Laura Ashley sheets. A rolling suitcase with as many clothes as I could fit into it sat against the wall. It was pathetic.

  But it beat the heck out of living with my mother. She was newly married and the walls at Casa de Holmes were a lot thinner than a grown daughter could handle. I’d never had that problem as a child. Apparently my parents hadn’t had a very active sex life.

  I squeezed behind my desk and opened my laptop, booting it up so I could do some background work. I’d learned my first day on the job that being a P.I. wasn’t always excitement and adventure. It was mostly tedious research and backtracking until you stumbled across the thread you were looking for. I was a champ at research, and I actually enjoyed that part of the job.

  There was no police report, since Anthony didn’t want the cops to pursue the situation, so I went through my notes again. I printed out a map of downtown Savannah and did a search for bars in the area to try to retrace his path. What I did know was that he started the night at the Olde Pink House and ended up eighteen blocks away at a Rest Easy Inn and Suites. And he got there by pedi-cab, unless they’d moved him to a regular cab once he’d passed out.