Livin' Lahaina Loca by Joann Bassett

Author:Joann Bassett [Bassett, Joann]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Travel, Australia & Oceania
ISBN: 9781475071061
Google: 1t72ugAACAAJ
Amazon: B007M64574
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2012-03-17T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

Lenny rooted around in my bag and pulled out the Ritz Carlton envelope. When he lifted the envelope flap and saw the large bundle of cash inside, he looked over at me slack-jawed.

“Miss, I’m gonna have to ask you to come with me,” he said in a tone that sounded like a recording.

“Lenny, wait,” I said. I turned and touched Trish’s arm. “There’s been a mistake. Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Can’t I just go with you?”

“No,” said Lenny. “I’m taking her into federal custody. No visitors allowed.”

Not good. Not good at all.

“Just have a seat over there,” I said to Trish. “I’m sure this won’t take long once I answer their questions. I’ll call you on your cell when I can—”

“Excuse me, Miss,” Lenny said, interrupting. “But the security detail has alerted to contraband in your handbag. You need to come with me now.”

The security detail? Sorry to break it to you, dude, but it’s not a detail—it’s a dog. And a rather scrawny little dog, at that. But, of course, I kept my opinion about the dog’s lack of stature to myself. I’d seen enough training videos of federal agents dealing with uncooperative suspects to know it’d be best for me to keep my mouth shut and my feet moving.

We got to the back of the baggage claim area and Lenny punched in a code on a locked door. Then the three of us—Lenny, me, and the beagle—went inside. The tiny room was furnished with a small rectangular table and two metal chairs. No window, no art on the walls, no cooling breeze from a fan. It wasn’t the kind of place you’d want to hang out in on a coffee break. By now, the beagle appeared almost sleepy calm. The only sign of vigilance was in its eyes—it kept them resolutely trained on its handler as if anticipating a yummy reward.

“We’ll wait here for the proper authorities to arrive,” Lenny said, setting my bag down in the middle of the table. “Have a seat.”

My cell phone chimed. Lenny shook his head and I let it go to voicemail.

I sat down and leaned over to pet the dog, but Lenny jerked the leash, pulling Fido out of my reach.

“It’s illegal to touch a federal officer,” he said. “Oh, and I’ll need to see some ID.” He pointed to my purse. “Do you have a driver’s license or other identification in there?”

I nodded.

“May I look?” he said.

Again, I nodded. He dumped the contents of my purse out onto the table. The dog twitched as if it was dying to launch into its gotcha routine all over again, but it stayed quiet.

“Where’d you get so much cash?”

“It’s payment for services. I’m a wedding planner and this is the money I was paid to put on a rather expensive wedding this weekend.”

“Do you usually conduct your business in cash?”

“No, my customers usually use a credit card.”

“Would you remove your ID from the wallet for me, please?” His tone was softening.

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