My My Little Prince Page 18

“Stop,” Joe demanded, “Sherine, I had a great time too and I want you to know that too. Sorry, but I did! And I love saying it. I had a great time and I want to see you again.”

  Sherine smiled and looked up, “You idiot, I am a trained killer compared to you and you are my prey!” But she said to Joe, “Thanks Joe, I thought I might be out of line; you know, pushy?”

  “Oh, Sherine, I feel so comfortable with you, let's relax and say what we think, OK.?”

  “Great!” Sherine said and they both nodded on it as if it was law for the future.

  “So, let's start over. Hi, I'm Joe and I am very excited to have met you.”

  “I too am very glad to have met you, Joe.”

  “Let´s get together for dinner later this week, ok?” Joe continued. He was practically breathless. “How about tomorrow evening?”

  She took a breath, trying to act out the moment, “Well, I have to do a couple small errands. I guess I could be ready and available around seven-thirty, how’s that?”

  “Perfect!” Joe said, “Where should I pick you up?”

  Sherine smiled and said, “I´ll be in the Merritt Island area, how about I meet you at say, seven-forty-five at the shop. Is that convenient?”

  Joe grinned like a small boy with a new toy and told her that was perfect since he lived nearby on the Indian River.”

  21

  Frank was good at what he did. He cleaned up messes that David and people like him so often made. If a drug deal went bad, Frank would sweep up the evidence, eliminate the loose ends and do anything that needed to be done. This time, David had another job for him. Except, David had never asked him to terminate anyone before. This would be a new chapter in his relationship with David. He was the one person that David could and would count on; any time anywhere.

  He and David were convinced that Marilyn's lover had killed her although her body was never found. Frank figured that he’d dumped her somewhere off the coast. He had looked at the yacht the day she was missing and had noticed the fuel tanks were low. Besides, the dock hand thought he’d seen Smitty with a woman that ‘may have’ fit the description. He’s stated that it had been very busy that day and he wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

  Frank and David were sure though. In spite of the boat being immaculate, (a little too immaculate?) they knew.

  Frank was proud of his knowledge and ability in the world of computers, the information age and the internet. Although he had no real formal training in computers he had taken an interest in them for years and had become quite proficient in them. They had helped him before and they would again. He just had the knack.

  He had been watching Marilyn and her lover for a while and always wondered how they could be that easy to keep track of. But David had told him that he would take care of them when the proper time came. He knew they were stashing away piles of cash and he thought he had an idea that would make it easy to get it when the time was right. Frank had agreed, let them hang themselves.

  He had gotten copies of Marilyn's cell phone numbers. It was not hard for Frank to find out that she had called a Robert Smith a few times. The number was a local 407 Orlando number, and it came up many times whenever he reviewed her phone history.

  It only took Frank one call to a source he had. He was able to find out the address that Robert Smith had used when he got his number. He went to the address listed and it was the address of a disposal company in a commercial area; a bogus address. Frank wondered who Robert Smith was.

  Immediately following their disappearance Frank went to his sources. He managed to get a copy of Robert Smith's records. Without too much effort, he put two and two together and found that Robert had called a number with the area code of 809 several times just after the date when Marilyn disappeared. Then the calls just stopped. “Too late asshole, I gotcha!” Frank thought to himself.

  It was a Dominican Republic number; in Santo Domingo, their capitol city on the south coast. Frank reflected, “this is getting easier than I had originally thought.” He was proud that he had so much information in such a short time and wanted to tell David that he was making great progress.

  “So, Frank,” said David, “Great work, but we’re not sure he actually went there. I have to think he would try to score on another drop.

  “I want you to wait for as long as it takes and if he does not show up at one of their drop off points then I want you to head south to the Dominican Republic. I just can’t help but think he would be greedy enough to cash in on a few more drops. If he does not show for the cash pickups then we will know for sure that he’s fled. The question is; where? I think you’re probably right that he’s going or has already gone to Santo Domingo. When we are sure, you can go and find our friend old Mr. Smith, and bring back his balls, understand?”

  “Sure do, David. I will enjoy this one.” Frank thought that he would enjoy killing this guy and enjoy the trip too. “It's a win-win for me!

  “What an idiot, … what an amateur,” Frank kept telling himself. “All I have to do is call a few numbers and I am this close to our killer. This idiot used Marilyn’s Florida cell and all old Frankie had to do was call the numbers he had called.”

  When Frank had called the 809 number a young lady had answered and said in Spanish, “The International Clinic for Reconstructive Surgery, how may I help you?”

  Frank asked a couple questions. His Spanish was okay but he wanted to be clear. After he was sure, he hung up and Googled the name of the clinic and found where the clinic was located. “H-m-m; plastic surgery, huh? This guy is playing for keeps.”

  Frank had traveled a lot, but he had never had a case outside the USA. He loved the opportunity to travel and this time he could mix fun with fun; the ladies and killing Marilyn's lover.

  He liked the Dominican Republic and was anxious to go, but he would do as David said and keep a watch here first. He had been to Santo Domingo many good times before; buying ladies and partying. He loved the women and the “houses” as he called them.

  He loved the way the ladies treated him there. He was a good looking man. He was a bit taller than average and weight had never been a problem. So that and the fact that he always had a few nickels to rub together made him very attractive to the ladies. Who’s kidding, the fact that he was a gringo was more than enough! He couldn’t understand why more single men didn’t flock there … especially the old geezers!

  He left the following morning; again, as David had instructed.

  Arriving about noon, he paid his ten dollar tourist fee and was breezed through customs with a big welcoming smile. As he walked out the exit, three colorfully dressed guys playing Bachata music immediately made his body start to sway with the Latin beat. Seeing the strong sun and feeling the high humidity he thought, “Ah I love the Caribbean!” and he practically danced out of the airport.

  “Taxi! Taxi!” several drivers were yelling at him.

  “Yeah” he responded, to one of the drivers. “How much to the Colonial Zone and what hotel do you recommend near the Capitol Building and the International Clinic of Reconstructive surgery?”

  The cabbie looked at Frank and smiled. “You look like a man that wants more than a pool and a view.”

  “How can you tell?” Frank laughed.

  “Well you have only one small bag and you made the mistake of showing that you are carrying more money than the average. You know that there are a lot of bad people here that would like to have that money; you had better be careful.”

  Franks frowned. He looked hard at the cabbie and said, “You know there are a lot of bad people that have wished they did not mess with me also,” but he put his wallet away even as he tucked his thick gold necklace back under his shirt collar.

  “Ok-ok, lo entiendo! Usted es un tigre” said the cabbie as he laughed and pounded Frank on the back. He kept his hand on his shoulder and steered him towards a cab.

  “So what about a hotel; one near the Presidential Palace? One that has night life; ladies, you know
.” Frank handed the driver his carry-on bag.

  “I´ve got the perfect one, it’s called the Mystic. It has two ‘houses’ right next to it. Thinking “I take all the gringos there. All they want it women, drink and a cheap room.” He continued, “There is also a restaurant on the corner and a casino about a block away.”

  “I want one that does not ask many questions.”

  “Then you want the Mystic, no one will ask anything.”

  “Where did you learn your English?” Franks asked the cabbie.

  “New York,” he responded and then the cabbie asked, “Where did you learn yours?”

  “Fuck you culo,” Frank told the cabbie and they both laughed.

  The cabbie threw Frank’s things in the trunk and said, “At the Mystic, no ID is required. It is just a fun hotel with a lot of hookers coming and going”.

  “Perfect, let’s vamos.”

  Later that afternoon, after Frank has partaken of the local color and the feminine side of Dominican culture, he asked himself, “What do you say I pay a visit to that clinic? That should be fun.”

  He walked out to the street and yelled for a cab. Immediately one stopped, and a quick ten minutes later, Frank entered the clinic. “Not bad,” he whistled to himself, impressed at the tall ceilings. The walls were adorned with tastefully done paintings of ladies in various states of undress; each highlighted by spot light. He smiled as he listened to his heels clicking on the marble floors. It certainly seemed an international clinic as the name implied.

  “Hi miss, do you speak English?” The woman-girl behind the counter was dark and lovely.

  “Of course, how may I help you?” she smiled prettily. He got lost in her strong white teeth; shiny behind blush colored lips. She had a beautiful mouth. It was small but with lips firm and nicely shaped. Frank had a theory about women’s lips. He felt that a woman’s lips and mouth paralleled her pussy and pussy lips, even down to size and color. He was mesmerized now.

  She cleared her throat and he came out of his reverie, “Uh, I have a friend that told me this was an excellent clinic for cosmetic surgery and as you can see I could use a little lift around my eyes.” He winked at her. “OK, I´ll be honest, I need a full body job.” He held her eyes to gage her reaction. He knew he was ‘hot’ by almost any woman’s standards but he was particularly interested in this beauty’s.

  “Well sir,” she replied, “Perhaps; I mean, without insulting you, perhaps a little tune up might be in order.”

  Frank laughed to himself and smiled at her. “You are so kind, but facts are facts. My car needs a little tune up; I need a complete overhaul.” He’d always used self-deprecating humor to disarm girls.

  “I was referred here by my dearest friend Robert; Robert Smith.” He pulled out a photo he had taken from a distance shortly before Marilyn disappeared. The picture was clear, but it was obvious it had been taken from some distance away, not the type a ‘friend’ would have.

  She looked at the photo and suppressed a gasp. “OH, shit not him. This is not good. The doctor will not like this at all.”

  Frank had been watching for her ‘tell’ and did not miss it. “I had hoped to see the same doctor that he did. Well anyway, perhaps you may recall my friend. He's taller than I am, slimmer too; and has a very good build. To be honest, I wondered why he even came here; he was so perfect to begin with. But I never ask a friend why they do things. If you do ask, often times I find they will not be your friends much longer. You know what I mean?”

  She smiled and then gently and quietly said, “Si senor, I know.” She was fidgeting and obviously trying to buy time or evade the question, “I once made the mistake of telling my good friend that she could come here and I could get her a discount on a little liposuction and she looked at me and told me I was crazy! She said that the men love her fat hips; and you know, we have always had a little wedge between us since then. It has never been quite the same. So, I do know what you are saying. Never question a good friend, only the ones you don't care about.” She got quiet now and waited but Frank just kept waving the photo gently in front of her. She sighed, “So do you know when your friend was here?”

  “He was here just recently. I'm not sure exactly, probably in the last week or so. It could have been as much as a couple weeks ago, but definitely no earlier. He will not talk about it. He says that he was not here, but I know he was and I want to see if you can make me look as good as him.” He laughed and said, “I doubt it, but I'm here. That’d be a good start, right? And my friend was here too, right? I am sure you would remember him, right?” he asked, letting a little menace come in his voice.

  That made her mind up for her. The change in her was meteoric. Whatever ideas she had about protecting Robert’s identity disappeared faster than a falling star. “He was very mysterious at times.” She said as she nervously played with a long curl of glossy black hair.

  “Well, I can believe it,” Frank said, reaching to take the woman’s curl between his fingers. He stroked the soft hair with his thumb. “I know he did not want anyone to know that he was here. Can you believe it? He did not even tell me until I called him the other day. The surgery was a surprise for the wife too, or in his case, for his girlfriend.”

  She looked up as she took a small step back gently pulling her hair from his strong fingers. She nervously said, “Ok, if I'm thinking of the same man, I don't think he did it for his girlfriend, he was almost perfect before the surgery.” She leaned back over the desk and whispered, “I could get fired for this, but I hope you are not here to cause us problems.”

  “No, no,” Frank told her quickly. He once again moved into her personal space. “I am not here to cause you any problems, I promise.”

  “I hope you are telling the truth senor. This patient made it clear we were not to divulge anything!”

  “Oh I am.” He smiled as he leaned his square head even closer.

  “Your friend was the worst patient we have ever had here and if I were you I would keep away from him. He seemed like he could be dangerous. He had us call him Mister Jones.”

  “Mr. What”?

  Yes, believe it. Mister Jones.”

  “That’s him all right,” Franks laughed. “Paranoid and weird.”

  “Paranoid and weird you say. I say he was scary and dangerous.” She wrapped her arms tightly under her generous breasts. “Why do all Dominican women wear such tight shirts?” Frank asked himself.

  “I am so sorry if he scared you,” Frank said. He straightened up and he gave her his biggest smile.

  “Yes, that's it.” She says, feeling a little braver as he stepped back a bit. “Your friend is a real wacko and if I were you I would watch out who you call friends.”

  “I know, but after ten years, I have learned to overlook his flaws and to appreciate his finer qualities.”

  “Does he have any finer qualities?” She stepped back and randomly shuffled papers behind the desk.

  “To be honest; not many. Did he mention where he went after his surgery? And are you sure we are talking about the same patient?”

  “I would guess we are. Let me see that photo again,” but she kept the desk between them as she reached for it.

  Frank let her hold it. Looking at it she nodded, “Yes, he was here. As I said before he would not tell us his name which is somewhat normal here; but his attitude was not normal. Even for the ones that don't want anyone to know that they are getting a ‘tune up’.” She gave the photo a final look, “Yup, definitely that is your ‘Robert’ and if the doctor knew I talked about him I could get in trouble. I was never so glad as when he left. Pareció al diablo!” and she quickly crossed herself.

  She told Frank that she couldn’t give him any more information. Frank darted a look around and put two one hundred dollar American bills on the desk. She smiled, grabbed the bills and as they quickly disappeared within the enticing folds of feminine décotage she asked, “Gracias señor! Is there anything else señor?”

  “Who d
id the surgery?”

  “I do not know, but I can look at the records.”

  “Forget that for now, where did he go?”

  She looked up after searching a few notes on the computer and said, “He is not your friend is he?” The money had warmed her up a bit and now she was willing to live with the danger. She couldn’t have said why, but she liked and needed a little drama in her life.

  Frank’s eyes blazed as he responded, “Lady, you should not ask any more questions. Take the money and tell me where he went.”

  Now she got extremely nervous and she squeaked a mumble, “Please do not hurt me.”

  “I won’t, but might have. You are fine now. Just let me know where he went and I will leave and you will never see either of us again.”

  The woman felt like she was walking a tight rope, one wrong move and down she’d go, but she pushed on. She sighed and shook her head and quickly said, “I’m pretty sure I heard the cabbie talking about hotels in Zona Colonial.”

  “OK, that is what I need to know. Now who was the doctor that did the surgery?”

  She said again that she did not know, but that she could look up his records and introduce him to his doctor.

  Frank said, “That would be great. I had hoped to have a little chat with that doctor.” He rubbed another hundred dollar bill between two fingers. Her eyes did a bug-eyed goldfish and before he knew it, it too had disappeared.