“ I still care for you,” I told her, the words surprising me as much as her.
Her eyes measured me for just a moment. “Nostalgia, Jake. Don’t get carried away. Right now, you’re fantasizing about rekindling something that’s been burnt out a long time. It’s a way of reliving your youth.”
“ I wasn’t that young.”
“ You were playing ball and having fun, and your future seemed infinite. Whatever you think you’re feeling right now isn’t real.”
I tried to examine what I felt, real or not. It wasn’t easy. “What I’m feeling, what I’m wondering really, is if I stuck with your brother all these years just to maintain some connection with you.”
“ And now?”
“ I’m wondering if you want to give it another go.”
For a moment, her eyes softened. Thoughts seemed to race around in her head, but I couldn’t catch them. Her brow furrowed. She didn’t smile and she didn’t frown. She was processing information, computing what she needed and what she didn’t. And then the moment was gone. The thoughtful expression changed. It was almost as if she willed herself not to yield, not to show weakness, which to her, was any hint of emotion, other than one: anger. Her eyes shone with determination, and her voice was fire and steel.
“ Never, never, never. As far as I’m concerned, Jacob Lassiter, Esquire, you’re just the mouthpiece for that trashy brother of mine. You’re no better than he is. You’re the enemy, get it?”
Whew! From sunshine to squall in the blink of an eye. The suddenness and the fury shocked me.
“ I don’t get it,” I said.
She blew a puff of smoke in my face, which is a good trick against the wind. “You’re hopeless. Why don’t you do something useful like find my brother and bring him in?”
Before I could answer, I heard Abe Socolow calling from inside the living room. “Hey, Jake, c’mere.”
I think Socolow liked bossing me around. Maybe it compensated for the few times I beat him in court. I went back inside to let him insult me some more. Jo Jo followed a step behind, and I made a mental note to check for knife wounds later.
The file drawers from Blinky’s bedroom/office were stacked in the living room. Every drawer was open, and the contents were being searched by patient, if bored, cops. In the foyer, an antique milk can, lacquered bright orange, was turned upside down. A dozen carved wooden canes and shillelaghs along with a couple of umbrellas were spilled onto the floor. The canes weren’t just for show. Blinky used them after tearing up his knee crawling out of a Dumpster filled with credit card receipts.
Now Socolow marched around the living room, holding a handsome cherry cane with a large polished knob for a handle. The whole thing was fairly phallic, but I didn’t bother to share my thoughts with Socolow, who was gesturing at me with the damn thing.
“ You know what’s in those papers?” he said, pointing in the general direction of the cocktail table where he had spread out several thick, typewritten documents.
“ No, Abe. You tell me.”
He hunched over the table, leaning on the cane like a pettifogger out of Dickens. He ran a finger along the lines of a page, furrowing his brow.
“ You could read faster if you didn’t move your lips,” I told him, helpfully.
“ What the hell is Rocky Mountain Treasures, Inc.?”
“ A company Blinky formed,” I answered.
“ I can see that. What’s it do?”
“ Hunts for treasure.”
Socolow scowled. “Didn’t Baroso get indicted for something like that, selling stock in a deep-sea salvage company down in the Keys?”
“ Only civil suits, and that involved sunken Spanish galleons,” I corrected him. “This is all about gold and silver in the Colorado mountains.”
“ Yeah, that’s what it says here under ‘corporate mission.’ Socolow began turning pages, again, reading aloud now. “‘The company will use its best efforts and employ the latest sophisticated technology to locate and reclaim one or more of the following: the Arapaho Princess Treasure, the Golden Mummy, the Treasure of Apache Gulch, La Caverna de Oro, the Lost Dutchman mine, the Purgatory Canyon Treasure, Moccasin Bill’s Lost Mine, the Lost Gulch mine, the Devil’s Head Treasure.’ “Socolow closed the folder and looked up at me. “Hey, Jake, what are you doing involved in this wild West shit?”
“ What do you mean?”
Now he was looking at the corporate minute book. “Says here you’re a ten percent shareholder…”
“ That’s right.”
“ And secretary treasurer of the company.”
“ What?”
“ Plus general counsel.”
“ What?” I said again.
“ You heard me. Your bio is in the prospectus that goes to potential investors. You’re described as one of the leading trial lawyers in Florida. Who wrote that, your granny?”
“ I don’t know anything about it,” I said, honestly. “Blinky gave me the stock in lieu of a fee, but I never agreed to be a corporate officer or to let my name be used. You know I’d never subject myself to liability like that.”
Socolow was back in the file again, still leaning on his cane. “Blinky’s bio says nothing about his criminal record or the lawsuits against him. What do they call that in securities law, Jake?”
“ A material omission of fact,” I said.
“ Right. The feds would be real interested in that, wouldn’t they? Maybe a 10 (b) (S) violation. What else do we have here?” He turned over a few more pages. “The corporation issued one hundred shares of stock, twenty to Louis Baroso, ten to Jacob Lassiter, and seventy to Kit Carson Cimarron.”
“ Who?”
“ Just what I was going to ask you, Jake.”
“ Damned if I know. Sounds like a cowboy.”
Socolow closed the folders, looked at the detective, at Jo Jo Baroso, and back at me. He didn’t say anything. He was into his genius-at-work mode. He started pacing, the cane clacking against the tile. At the moment, he was probably the most irritating person on the planet. He stopped at the sliding glass door to the balcony and seemed to study the smooth waters of Government Cut. To the south, cars were streaming across the newly renovated MacArthur Causeway, and below us, the fronds of the palm trees swayed gently in the breeze. Finally, he turned and faced me. “Jake, I’ll bet you all the gold in Apache Gulch that Kyle Hornback was going to sing about Rocky Mountain Treasures, Inc. Maybe it’s a little farther from home, but it’s just another of Blinky’s scams. Now, as for you, I know you step over the line once in a while, but I gotta tell you, I’m real disappointed.”
“ Abe, listen to me, I-”
“ Lemme finish. The way I see it, Blinky figured he’d worn out his welcome down here. Kyle was doing his selling up there, and this Carson probably put up the money and added some local credibility. That left you to handle legal problems.”
“ Abe, you’re not listening. I never agreed to represent the company or be an officer. I didn’t ask for the stock, and I didn’t write the prospectus. As far as I know, the company’s legitimate, but even if it’s not, where’s the proof Blinky killed Kyle. “
“ Who’s talking about Blinky? I’m starting to agree with you. Baroso’s not a tough guy, at least not without someone to back him up.”
“ Like who, or is it whom?”
“ How about the guy who owned the house where the decedent was killed, the guy whose tie was the murder weapon, whose prints are on the body, and who just happened to discover the body and call the cops?”
“ Are you nuts? Why would I kill Kyle Hornback?”
“ Ah, motive,” Socolow said in that infuriating tone intended to indicate his intellectual prowess. “The missing ingredient. If I nailed down the motive, Jakie my boy, I’d be in front of the grand jury quicker than you can say life without parole. But I’m getting warm, aren’t I? It’s got to do with Rocky Mountain Treasures, doesn’t it,
