Trouble in Paradise(12)
“Yes, I mind,” Babu said. “What is this, Nazi Germany?” She jerked her head toward Erica. “That Erica Garber?”
I wondered what was with the sudden attitude. “Yes—”
“They want her to bring Tammy Susie back to the hotel, pronto.”
“Who told you that?”
“Someone who works on the show. Obviously.” Babu folded her arms across her impressive bosom. “And that’s all I’m going to tell you.”
There was no point in trying to pry any more answers out of Babu, so we called a cab and headed out. On the ride back to the hotel, new suspicions began to run through my mind. Erica and Tammy were in the front seat with the window rolled down. I leaned forward and spoke into Erica’s ear so Tammy Susie couldn’t hear. “How come Tammy Susie’s parents never called to ask about her?”
She shrugged and whispered, “Probably busy taping their own segments.”
I told Bailey what Erica had said, and Bailey shrugged. “I guess they wouldn’t have any reason to worry if that producer guy, Mike, didn’t say anything to them.”
“But why didn’t Mike say anything to them? Know what I mean?”
Bailey looked at me. “Shit.”
I leaned forward and spoke to the driver. “Could you let us out here, please?”
He nodded and pulled over. Erica turned back to us. “What are you doing?”
“Yeah, what are we doing?” Toni said.
“Just checking something out,” Bailey said. “Erica, we’ll see you back at the hotel.”
One hour later, with Erica in tow, we marched into the suite of Randall Kraft, executive producer—top dog of Tammy Susie and Company. Toni, Bailey, and I made it a point to start by simultaneously flashing our badges. Kraft’s stricken look was gratifying.
“This morning, about five minutes into our vacation, your PA, Erica Garber, came to us, panicked by the disappearance of Tammy Susie,” I said.
“What?” Kraft said. “Tammy Susie was missing?” He turned to look around at the other producers. “Did any of you know about this?”
They all shook their heads. Nos and no ways filled the room. I knew that at least one of them was lying. I turned to him now. “You want to rethink that answer, Mr. Borden?”
He reddened and began to clear his throat. I held up my hand. “Whatever you’re about to say, save it. It’s my vacation. I don’t have to listen to lies.” I turned back to Kraft. “If we hadn’t landed in Madam Junaida’s lap, we’d never have figured it out.”
After finding Tammy Susie, we’d gone back to Madam Junaida. I knew she couldn’t have “divined” as much specific information as she had. It was one thing for her to figure out that we were law enforcement. Anyone could make a lucky guess like that. But “divining” the exact house Tammy Susie was in? No way. After some prodding, Junaida (who turned out to have had a long-standing beef with Babu for stealing one of Junaida’s best—make that richest and most gullible—clients) finally spilled the beans.
“Figured what out?” Kraft said, now agitated.
“I lost a whole day of my vacation running around this island because of your ‘missing’ star. You can hang on for another five minutes.” What few shreds of patience I’d had were gone. “It turns out your pal, Babu, has a big mouth. She bragged to her fortune-teller buddies about some producer who was going to make her a star. He set it up to look like Tammy Susie had been kidnapped, and then Babu, using her ‘special powers,’ was going to provide the information that would help authorities find her. Apparently Babu was going to rake in some heavy coin for it all—”
“Lucky for us, Madam Junaida decided to get even with Babu,” Toni said. “She helped us find Tammy Susie, which ruined Babu and your producer Mike’s little scam.”
Toni made it sound a lot easier than it had been. Junaida, who’d heard about Babu’s scam through the fortune-teller grapevine, was reluctant to tell “outsiders” about it, despite their long-standing feud. It violated some kind of fortune-teller code. So when we’d first shown up with Erica, Junaida hadn’t intended to tell us anything. But she couldn’t help herself. She was dying to get even. So she wound up compromising by giving us the minimum: the house with green shutters. It wasn’t until Toni and Bailey and I went back the second time and voiced our suspicions—and used every interrogation trick in the book on her—that she finally cracked and gave up the whole story. I’ll say this much for Junaida: she’d be a real asset to the CIA.