"Why don't you channel that energy productively and figure out who the hell killed this girl?"
"You know I don't like to tap into that kind of thing. It just brings bad luck.”
I smiled. "Luck is what we make of it. If you think you have good luck, you’ll have good luck. If you think you have bad luck, that's what you‘ll have.”
She gave me a flat look.
I raised my hands innocently.
"What will it be?"
"I think I'm in the mood for steak tacos,” I said.
Teagan looked at Jack. "Let me guess. You want the lobster roll."
Jack smiled. "You read my mind. I still think we need to go to Vegas."
She lifted an eyebrow at him. "You remember what happened the last time you took me gambling?"
Jack frowned. "Yeah, well, that was a fluke.”
Teagan poured two glasses of Wild Fury whiskey and slid them across the counter. JD and I sipped our beverages, and she put in our order. We sat at the bar, kicking around theories about the cases, and tried to unwind.
After we ate, we headed back to theAvventura, and I took Buddy out for a quick walk. The little Jack Russell was more than ready to stretch his legs.
When I returned, I took a shower, then got dressed for the evening. I wore a stylish Di Fiore suit, a Julian Vellore tie, and shoes by Sergio Valtieri.
With his usual flair, Jack donned a Hugo Hale suit with a waistcoat, silk tie, and shoes by Lucien Thorne. He combed his hair back and put it into a slick ponytail. He looked part gangster, part rockstar. I must say, we were both looking pretty dapper.
We decided to leave the van behind and called for a limo. Might as well show up to the event in style.
The driver picked us up and chauffeured us across town to the Paradise Pavilion. The place was packed. People in fashionable attire waited to get inside. There were plenty of sparkly dresses, high hemlines, plunging necklines, spike-heeled shoes, and fine jewelry.
There was a long line, which was bypassed by the VIPs. The paparazzi loitered outside. Camera flashes blinded celebrities and socialites as they climbed out of limousines.
This was THE event to be at in Coconut Key. Everyone who was anyone would be in attendance tonight. News crews surrounded the venue. Notable people drove down from Miami. This was a big deal. It felt like a movie premiere in Hollywood.
Our driver pulled to the red carpet, hopped out, and grabbed our door.
Jack stepped out of the limousine with a beaming smile on his face.
Cameras flashed.
The crowd of onlookers cheered.
It didn't matter who we were. We had just stepped out of a limo onto the red carpet. They would cheer for anybody.Because of the band and his failed mayoral campaign, Jack was almost a local celebrity. But that didn’t really count for much.
We walked the red carpet to thestep and repeatwhere more photographers snapped pictures. We posed like everyone else did and let them grab a few shots. It was fun to play celebrity for a moment. On a day-to-day basis, it would get rather annoying.
Of course, Paris Delaney was there with her camera crew. They closed in, and Paris asked, "Are you excited to see the collection tonight?"
"Indeed, I am," Jack replied.
"Do you have any leads in the Abigail Jordan case?"
He smiled. "I can't comment on ongoing investigations."
At the main entrance, the door guy checked the list, and we stepped inside. Jack made a beeline for the bar.
