Home > The Palm Beach Murders(3)

The Palm Beach Murders(3)
Author: James Patterson

I adored the way Marty was full of life, just like a big kid. He got so much joy from everything and loved to see me smile. Almost as if he lived for my approval. It was such a nice change from my life with Brennan. He was so reserved. Even though I had been swept off my feet the first time I saw him playing polo, I’d never felt this comfortable around him. It even made me wonder if his obvious wealth had played some role in my feelings toward him. Growing up the daughter of a schoolteacher and a UPS deliveryman had left me wondering what it was like to live without any concerns about money. One thing I’d learned was, even with money you have a lot to worry about.

I was discovering that Marty was an educated, funny guy. He seemed to have made enough money but wasn’t consumed by it. His parents lived in Delray Beach, or as he said it, Everyone’s parents live in Delray Beach. And it sounded like Marty regretted not having any kids. I could relate, but that was the last thing on my mind now. I was too enthralled with this carefree relationship that seemed to revolve around enjoying life.

So when he picked me up early one evening in his slightly dinged twelve-year-old BMW, I was open to his idea to take a leisurely ride all the way down to South Beach, which was more than seventy-five miles away.

We were lucky and found a spot in front of Marjory Stoneman Douglas Park, so we walked down the boardwalk, holding hands the whole time. Unlike Palm Beach, this beach was busy with runners, sightseers, and bicyclists crowding the boardwalk. It was an entirely different vibe from home. Everyone here looked happy.

We ended up at a place called Prime 112 on Ocean Drive and munched on appetizers and sipped incredible wine. It was magical. We moved on to our meal and a wonderful bottle of wine paired to our fillets. If Dwyane Wade or Khloé Kardashian had walked through the tony restaurant, I wouldn’t have been surprised.

It was nice to see Marty enjoying himself and acting so relaxed, until our waiter, Diego, brought the bill. In my time with Brennan, I’d rarely had to worry about the cost of things. It was so different from how I’d grown up. When I saw the look on Marty’s face, I had to ask, “What’s wrong, babe?”

He showed me the bill, and I saw that it was something over a thousand bucks. For some reason the whole idea started to make me giggle. That in itself struck me as funny and I started to laugh out loud.

That got Marty laughing too. I don’t know what it is about a man who laughs easily, but there is almost nothing as attractive to me.

I reached for my purse, and he said, “No. No way. I was the one who dragged you down here and insisted on the most expensive wine.” Then he gave me that crazy smile and said, “You ready to play another game?”

“Anything you want.”

He pulled two hundred dollars out of his wallet, and when Diego walked by he held it up and said, “I want to make sure you get your tip in cash. No one likes to declare what they earned in tips.” Diego smiled and thanked us both, kissing my hand like the South American gentleman he was.

Then Marty said to me, “We’re going to make believe we left a card to cover our outrageously expensive meal. Is that okay with you?”

Maybe if he hadn’t tipped Diego, I would’ve been more hesitant. Instead, a tremor of excitement ran through me. “You don’t think we’ll get caught?”

“Diego got his tip, and he’s happy. We’ll be blocks away before he even realizes it.” Marty reached into his pocket, pulled out his keys, and slipped off his car key, leaving three keys on a ring on top of the bill. “That’ll make it look like we’re coming back.”

“Don’t you need your keys?”

“I’ve got extra keys, and it won’t cost me a grand to replace them.”

I got the idea that Marty had done stuff like this before.

We stood up from the table, and my heart was pounding. I wasn’t sure what the criminal charge would be, but I knew it had to be a felony. This was one thousand dollars we were walking away from. Marty looked casual and unconcerned as he gave me a wink and then reached out to take my hand. Slowly, we turned and looked along our path toward the front door. Shit. The manager stood there, chatting with a couple of the waiters, including Diego. Marty took one step that way while I held firm.

“That’s crazy. A suicide move,” I said in a low voice.

“It’s bold and dramatic.” He gave me a smile that somehow set me at ease.

I had a better idea. I pulled him back toward the table and around the partition that concealed the way toward the bathrooms. There was another door at the end of the hallway. It led to the little outdoor dining area, where one waitress, who appeared to be thirteen years old, was wandering around. Taking the right angle, with the right pace, we could step through the patio area and over the velvet rope and be only a few feet from freedom. The question was, would the manager and Diego figure out what was going on if they saw us?

We had to do something. I tugged on Marty’s hand and pulled him along the corridor. I turned to him and said, “Last chance to pay or use the bathroom. Do you want to do either?”

“Hell, no, I’m an outlaw. I’m with you all the way.”

I pushed open the door and was relieved to see there were only two couples on the patio. We wouldn’t have to awkwardly step past anyone. The waitress looked up and smiled, eager to have someone else in her section. I just shrugged like we’d walked through the wrong door and then turned quickly to my left, stepping over the rope that sealed off the area as Marty followed me. We took a few steps down the sidewalk and then heard a man’s voice shout.

“Wait!”

The manager had seen us.

My impulse was to freeze in place and come up with an excuse, like we were going out to get money from the car. But Marty took off at a sprint and I followed. The CrossFit classes came in handy as we shot north toward Second Street. Just as we turned the corner, I looked over my shoulder and saw the manager and Diego on the sidewalk coming after us.

I said, “We should probably get to the car. We can outrun them easily, but I doubt they’ll be happy about us walking out on the bill. They’ll have the cops down here looking for us in a few minutes.”

Before I knew it, I’d lost any fear and was laughing as we trotted along the sidewalk toward the park, where the car was waiting for us.

I couldn’t believe how this guy had brought me out of my shell. I loved that he was so unpredictable and had an edge to him. I never would’ve thought a respected architect would act like a teenager and do something like dine and dash. This was the most excitement I’d experienced in a long time. Definitely since I’d been locked in this nasty divorce. I’d had no idea life could be this much fun again.

 

 

Chapter 5

 

We decided to take the long way back to Palm Beach and drove north on the oceanfront US Highway A1A, having to make several detours around inlets, but once we were back in Palm Beach County, it was a steady, comfortable ride with a cool ocean breeze in our faces. The night was beautiful, and Marty seemed to be opening up more and more.

For the first time since we’d met, he started to talk in detail about his divorce. I hadn’t wanted to pry, but I was curious. Every divorce has its own story, and it’s told by two different people, but in this case, I believed everything Marty said.

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