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“Ken—I mean, Agent Cameron must have let Joey’s location slip. He probably realized it, but before he could warn any of us, he was killed to keep quiet.”
An interesting theory. But I have another one too. One that isn’t so nice. One that involves Ken Cameron selling Joey out for money and then being double-crossed.
“But what was the motive to kill Mark Rinaldi?” I ask, confused.
“Rinaldi was killed by another hitman.”
“Another hitman?” I squeak. This is getting worse by the second.
“Every thug with a five-cent brain is probably on their way here now to Whispering Bay to take out The Weasel. Five hundred thousand dollars is a huge incentive.” She glances at Travis, then her gaze goes back to me. “Both Agent Cameron and Mark Rinaldi were killed by the same person. A bullet hole clean between the eyes is the trademark work of a deadly assassin who goes by the name El Tigre. He’s based out of New York and works primarily for the Russian mob, but Vito’s half-million must have been too big a temptation.”
“The Tiger, huh? What does he look like?” Because this is someone I probably want to avoid.
“No one has ever seen El Tigre. At least no one who’s lived to tell about it.”
“So… this El Tigre killed Mark Rinaldi as a warning?”
“El Tigre killed Rinaldi to get him out of the way. The warning, as you put it, was dumping the body in a public place. He wants to make sure everyone in town knows he’s here. It’s his way of telling any other contenders that Joey is his hit and anyone who gets in his way is going to end up in a dumpster just like Rinaldi.”
I shudder. Correction: El Tigre is definitely someone I want to avoid.
“If you don’t know what he looks like, how can you catch him?”
Agent Billings narrows her eyes at me. “Because you’ve seen him.”
“Me? What are you talking about?”
“Part of El Tigre’s M.O. is that he always dumps a body in a place he knows. Leaving Mark Rinaldi in your dumpster wasn’t a coincidence. El Tigre was here to scope the place out beforehand. Most likely as a customer.”
“You mean I served him coffee? I wish I could help you, but I can’t think of anyone who’s come in here who looks like a dangerous killer.”
“But then, you didn’t suspect the Angel of Death until you caught her, did you?”
True.
“El Tigre is smart. He could be disguised as almost anyone. Some meek mannered tourist, perhaps.”
“It sounds like it’s going to be almost impossible to fish this guy out. Why not just whisk Joey to another location? Wouldn’t that solve your problem?”
“The judge has moved up the trial date, so we only need to keep Joey here a few more days. There’s no time to relocate him.”
“I don’t understand. How can I help?”
“El Tigre likes to return to the scene of his body dumps. It’s a vanity thing. His way of telling us that he can be anywhere or do anything he wants. In the past, he’s come back to leave some tiny scrap of evidence that links back to the murder. It’s nothing we can ever use to find him, he’s much too clever for that. Just enough for us to know that he was here.”
“Like what?” I ask.
“In the past, he’s taken the victim’s ID, then returned it to the scene of the crime. Another time he returned a ring. Completely clean of prints of course. Things like that.”
“Sounds creepy.”
“It’s rather brilliant, actually,” says Billings with a hint of admiration in her voice. “What we want is for you to keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. Can you do that for us?”
“I’d love to, except Agent Parks, or was it Rollins—anyhoo, one of them told me we had to keep The Bistro closed until further notice. If the place is closed, then how is this El Tigre going to come back here without raising suspicion?”
“I can override that closing. If you agree to help us, The Bistro can open up Monday morning right on schedule. We’ll install invisible cameras that will be manned twenty-four seven. You’ll be completely safe.”
If we can open up Monday as usual, we won’t lose revenue. Which takes a bit of the sting out of losing the Battle of the Beach Eats gig.
