worry about offending me,” he said. “I spoke out against the statue from the beginning. Nothing would make me happier than to get it off the street.”
“Then why are you in charge of hiring a private investigator?” she asked.
“Just because I was against the Santa doesn’t mean I want to see our group embarrassed,” he said. “We need to find out who’s doing this. Or at the very least, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Then you came to the right place.” Kayla injected confidence into her voice even though she was already wondering how a one-woman operation would manage twenty-four-hour surveillance on the statue. “Let me tell you our rates.”
She had to go to her uncle’s file and rummage through a sheaf of papers before finding a listing of costs. The hourly rate seemed high to her. Alex didn’t blink.
“That intersection with the Santa is a pretty high-traffic area,” she said, referring more to the cars that passed by the spot than the pedestrians. “You said Santa’s already been messed with twice. It seems likely somebody saw the prankster in action.”
“I’m sure that’s something you’ll look into.”
She planned to do exactly that. She just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
“It’s settled, then.” Alex stood up and reached across the desk, offering his hand.
Kayla took it, the warmth of his grip seeming to travel through every inch of her body. She almost cried out in protest when he let go of her hand.
“Here are my numbers.” He took a business card out of his wallet and laid it on the desk. “I’d like to be updated daily and whenever there’s a new development.”
“Certainly.” She hoped she sounded sufficiently professional.
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” He strode toward the exit, pausing to turn around before he reached it. The grin that made him even more handsome was back on his face. “I forgot to tell you. Nice skirt. Yellow never looked so good.”
With that, he left. Kayla brought her hands to her hot cheeks, not sure what disconcerted her more: Alex Suarez or the prospect of conducting a solo investigation.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE PRICKLY SENSATION on the back of Maria’s neck started before she’d gotten halfway to her destination.
During her years in law enforcement, she’d learned to trust her intuition. It had served her well on occasions too numerous to count. Such as the time she was chasing a suspect and ducked into an alley just before he turned on her and fired.
Now her sixth sense was telling her someone was following her.
She’d decided to visit the post office before appealing to Key Carl for help. The directions she’d gotten off the internet took her west on Duval Street, a tourist-heavy thoroughfare that cut a swath through the heart of Key West. The farther west she walked, the more numerous the bars, specialty shops, restaurants and pedestrians became. Trolley cars shared space on the road with bicycles, cars and mopeds.
It seemed as if anything was accepted here. She passed a statue of Santa Claus holding a fistful of cash, with the message to spend it in Key West, and a man dressed in the same shade of green as the feathers on the large talking parrot on his shoulder. A woman whose arms and legs were completely covered in colorful tattoos rode by on a scooter. A belly dancer who had a lot to jiggle performed for tips on a street corner.
Yet Maria could still sense that someone was on her tail.
Had word trickled back to Mike that she was looking for him? She’d left her business card with probably two dozen people last night. She’d mentioned the name of the hotel where she was staying to more than a few of them.
Her heartbeat sped up. If Mike had been the one who’d contacted Caroline, he could be thinking about surfacing. He might even be following her right now. This could be her opportunity to solve the mystery of his disappearance once and for all.
She spied an art gallery with paintings displayed in the window. She stopped, pretending to admire them. The sun wasn’t yet directly overhead, perfect for her purposes. She repositioned her body and angled her head this way and that, as though examining a painting.
The sun reflected off the window, allowing Maria to see the other side of the street.
A familiar man was stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, hanging back but not making nearly enough of an effort to conceal himself.
Not Mike. Logan Collier.
She whirled and marched across the street, directly into the path of one of the mopeds that clogged the artery. The driver, a teenage boy, swerved to avoid hitting her. “Hey!” he yelled. “Watch where you’re going.”
An extra dose of adrenaline surged through Maria, but she didn’t break stride.
Logan stood frozen on the sidewalk, his mouth hanging open. “He’s right. You could have gotten killed.”
Since the moped had missed her, there were more important matters to discuss. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He shrugged his broad shoulders. With his short hair and smooth shave, he would have looked out of place in Key West even if he hadn’t been wearing dark clothes. His slacks and shoes were black. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his dark gray dress shirt in deference to the heat.
“I was following you,” he said.
Never would it have occurred to her that Logan was the one on her tail. How could it? Before Monday, she’d seen him exactly once in eleven years. She would have recognized him anywhere, though. He was even better looking now than he’d been as a teen. His face was a little leaner, his golden-brown hair a little darker, his once-straight nose not quite perfect. Except that didn’t make sense. Logan Collier wasn’t the type of guy who got his nose broken.
“How did you know I was here?” The answer occurred to her before he could answer. “Annalise. She’s the only one I told.”
“She’s worried about you,” he said, not bothering to deny it.
“I didn’t tell Annalise where I was staying,” Maria said. “What did you do? Call hotels at random and ask to be connected to my room?”
“Not at random, alphabetically,” he replied. “I’m lucky you’re staying at the Blue Tropics.”
If she hadn’t been so irked, she would have been impressed.
“I hung up before I got put through to your room,” he continued. “I was on my way to the hotel when I saw you leaving.”
He sounded matter-of-fact, as though it was perfectly logical that he should be here in Key West following her.
“I don’t get it,” she said. “Weren’t you supposed to go back to New York today? Isn’t it vitally important you spend your holidays in the office?”
He stiffened.
