The Last Note (Mystical Marvels Mysteries Book 2) Read online

  He patted the two men on the shoulder. “We’ll get them back safe and sound. Hang in there. Erin’s been talking to her aunt mind to mind. The two of them have always had a special mind connection. Trust me, I know this personally. She said Dottie yelled at the driver to slow down on the rough road.” He didn’t tell them what the driver’s response was. He needed them to be as calm as possible or people would get hurt and he had no intention of having that happen.

  Within fifteen minutes they were back on the road headed for Tucson and the I-19 junction.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The women were pulled out of the van and led into a building that looked like a small warehouse. The two bald men who had abducted them had untied their hands and removed their hoods. They were locked in a windowless room which had a table and chairs, a desk and a sofa. It was really quite homey looking for a warehouse office.

  The four of them sat at the table. Birdie poured everyone a glass of water from a pitcher that was on the marred table. From the dust that filtered through the cracks in the van as they bounced down that dirt road, they felt certain they were creating mud in their mouths.

  “Okay ladies, how are we going to get out of this mess?” Vi asked.

  “Erin came to me while we were in the van. They are on the way. She’s helping them find us. She said to be patient,” Dottie explained.

  “Well, that’s what I have very little of,” Birdie said with disgust.

  “Me either. If I get my hands on that Harry Conti, I’ll scratch his eyes out,” Clara exclaimed.

  “That a girl. You’re feisty for a little thing,” Vi laughed outloud, releasing some tension in the room as she did.

  “Let’s think. We’re here because Harry wants those rights to Sean’s song The Last Note, right? But this warehouse is not owned by Harry or Miss Daisy-Do-Me,” Vi stated. “That means someone with some influence owns this place. Probably a drug lord. I hear there’s a lot of them near Nogales.”

  “If you were a drug lord of a Mexican cartel would you want someone like Harry drawing attention to you?” Dottie asked. “Let’s see if our host here would like a little private concert and maybe we can do some negotiating on our own. We can’t let Lou and the kids come blasting in here like it’s the OK corral.”

  Vi started banging on the door and in her most persuasive voice yelled for whoever answered to take us to the headman.

  “Where have you girls been all my life?” Clara laughed. “I’ll sing a little if you’ll let me. Also, I’ve played the piano since I was six.”

  “You’ve just made it as a part of the group,” Dottie said while high fiving her.

  Bang. Bang. Bang. “We need to talk to the head guy.” Bang. Bang. Bang. Finally after two more pleas and a lot more banging the door opened. “Hi,” Vi said softly. “We’d like to talk to your boss. We’re the famous singing group, the Mystical Marvels. I have a feeling he doesn’t like Conti any more than we do. When we are found missing, it’s going to bring the FBI and whatever other group of Feds that they bring with them. Tell him we can negotiate peacefully for everyone’s benefit.”

  “I’ll be back. Keep quiet.”

  Twenty minutes had gone by when the door opened again. “Come.”

  The women followed two men with medium long hair, whom they had not seen before. They led the women into a southwest looking house. “This is gorgeous,” Vi exclaimed. “I feel like I’m on a ranch in Mexico. Remember that horse ranch we stayed at outside of Mexico City? That haciendo was huge like this.”

  “Welcome ladies. I’m flattered you like my little abode. I would imagine you are hungry and thirsty. Why don’t we talk over some supper? Tell Juan here what you would like to drink. Margarita, pina colada, Dos Equis or various juices.”

  “That’s very hospitable of you, Mr. …”

  “I’m Ricardo Chavez. Please call me Ricardo. Let me show you to the dining room. Make yourselves comfortable. Oh thank you Juan. Please have Maria bring in some appetizers.”

  “This is the best margarita I’ve ever tasted,” Vi exclaimed. “Do you have a secret recipe?”

  Ricardo laughed. “You ladies are full of life. What a pleasure to meet you. You know my father was a big fan of yours. He used to play your records continually. My mother used to kid him that she was jealous of the American singers who could touch his heart with their music. That’s quite a compliment from her. She is an accomplished singer herself.”

  “Where are your parents?” Clara asked.

  “My father died quite a few years ago. Mother lives with me here. I will see if she would like to join us later.”

  “Here’s Maria. Her cooking is the best in Mexico, now Arizona.” Maria walked around the table with a platter of tiny tortillas topped with various cheeses and roasted peppers. Each lady took several. They hadn’t eaten since breakfast and that was only a muffin.

  “Now why were you brought here by that cretin Harry? I can’t imagine you being friends with him or that wannabe singer that hangs around him. I hate to say this but she is really Mexican. Claims to be a Mexican American. She’s not, so we would be more than happy to deposit her on the immigration department’s doorstep. Tell me what Harry is after.”

  Birdie started explaining about being sent a song that Clara’s son Sean wrote, “He asked if we would be interested in singing it in a performance. When we decided to come to the resort in Phoenix, managed by our friend, and do a few performances in their lounge, Sean was sent a threatening note. It said that if we sang the song, harm would come to the Mystical Marvels and Clara. We found out it was Harry and Daisy who sent the threat so we said no. And here we are.”

  “I will take care of Harry,” Ricardo assured them. They did not ask how. “Mother, look who we have as guests. May I introduce my mother, Sophia Chavez. Mother this is the Mystical Marvels and Clara Dooley, the mother of a songwriter.”

  “Welcome to our home.” She looked at Clara. “You did not tell them who you really are did you?” Clara smiled shaking her head. “This woman was Clara Elena Perez, better known professionally as Elena Perez, one of Mexico’s most beloved singers of the late ‘60’s. You were only 15 when you had your first hit, weren’t you?”

  “Your memory is good Sophia. I remember you too. You were a singer with that male group that made it big until one of them got arrested. Did you live in Mexico City then?”

  “That’s where I grew up. I had every one of your records, still have them. Remember those little 45 rpm disks?” They all laughed except for Ricardo who didn’t know what they were talking about.

  Maria and her helpers entered with platters of food and dinner was served. Ricardo felt a bit left out as one story after another was told of the ‘olden days’ in the music world both north and south of the border.

  Part way through dinner, one of the men came in and whispered to Ricardo. “Excuse me ladies,” he said as he left the table.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Where are they?” Chavez asked his man.

  “Somewhere between here and Phoenix.”

  “Anybody with them?”

  “Don’t know. Could have picked up someone. You think Bloomberg is with him?”

  “Conti’s just a puppet for him. If he knows I let the idiot use the ranch to bring these women here, he’ll be around. He’s been trying to take over this connection for years. Get some of the guys and post them at the highway, but out of sight. Some others at the gate.”

  “You think Bloomberg’s coming here will attract the Feds?”

  “Probably,” Chavez said thinking. “The women are special guests of mine. Nothing more. Let me know if you hear anything else.”

  Ricardo smiled when he went back into the dining room. His mother was in her glory. At a lull in their conversation, he started talking, “Ladies, I need to tell you what is going on with your kidnappers. Conti and Daisy are on their way here from Phoenix.”

  “Can you keep them away?” Vi said calmly.

  “They
may not be alone. As I suspected, they are not behind all this music business. They’re working for a man named Sy Bloomberg. He’s out of Vegas. He’s big in the entertainment business as well as other enterprises. Some of which I too have interests in. He and I have been enemies for years.”

  “Are you telling us that it is he who wants Sean’s music and that he had this Conti character try to get it?” Clara chimed in.

  “That’s what it looks like. The Feds have been watching him for years when non-cooperating recording artists have been showing up missing or dead. He uses the music business as a way to get into foreign markets with illegal goods. Interpol has been following him in Europe, but they haven’t been able to get anything on him.”

  “What can we do to help?” Birdie asked.

  “If the Feds show up make it clear that you are my guests and stay low. Mother you can show them where to go if Bloomberg and his men get through our guards.”

  “Ricardo, we can help. I have special gifts. I can tell you where they are and possibly what they’re thinking of doing when they get here,” Dottie said.

  “Go ahead and do it now Dottie,” Vi encouraged.

  “Ricardo, do you have a computer I can use?” Birdie asked. “If we know why this Bloomberg is so anxious to get this music, it’ll give us an idea of why he is personally coming here.”

  He waved to his assistant. “Show the lady the office.”

  Dottie closed her eyes and after a few moments spoke. “I asked to be taken to Conti. He’s in a car. Yes he’s coming here and yes he has a man in the car with him. The car is big and black. There’s a driver. I’m listening to their conversation.

  “Conti is pleading, ‘Sy I can handle this. You didn’t need to come.’ Sy is responding. He’s really mad. ‘You stupid idiot. You’ve done nothing but fuck up since I hired you. One simple little thing you were supposed to do. Get this songwriter to hand over his music, that’s it. Now we’ve got Chavez involved and probably the authorities.’

  “Conti asked, ‘Why do you think the Feds will get involved?’ Sy says, ‘Because you kidnapped some famous old broads.’ Conti says, ‘Nobody remembers them. They’re here doing some two-bit lounge for a week.’

  “Sy just says, ‘Don’t say another word until I tell you to.’ He’s got his phone out, calling someone. ‘Get the boys ready. We’ll meet you in the usual place in Tucson. We should be there in about twenty minutes. Yeah, load up the hardware.’

  “I’m going to go mind to mind with him. I’m asking him why he’s so determined to get Sean’s music. He says, ‘I don’t give a shit about his music, but my boss wants it. Says his lover says that it’s the best he’s heard. The more popular my lover is the more it helps my business. It’ll get us into new markets with our merchandise.’ I ask him what merchandise? He answers, ‘Who the hell are you? Get out of here.’ ”

  Dottie opened her eyes. “Is this for real?” Ricardo asks. “How do you do that? Is that legal? Does Interpol know about you?”

  Dottie smiled. “Yes it’s for real and people have been doing it for centuries. I only use it when people’s lives are in danger. Otherwise it kind of takes the fun out of life. I need to talk to Birdie. I’ll be right back.”

  Dottie was shown to the office, where Birdie was clicking away. “Birdie, Bloomberg and another man are into something big and it’s not music. That’s just something they use as a cover to ship merchandise all over the world. I just went mind to mind with him, but he wouldn’t tell me what merchandise. Interpol is onto him though.”

  “Already going there. Just cracked into their database in France. Here’s something.” Dottie was reading over her shoulder. “They suspect Bloomberg of dealing in Indian artifacts from North and South America. Also he’s been questioned by them for the mysterious disappearance of some old Maori carving out of New Zealand.”

  “Is there someone else behind it as well? This doesn’t feel right. A Vegas shyster heading an operation this big? Not right.”

  Birdie clicked some more. “You’re right on that hunch. They think that a German man by the name of Richter is behind the whole operation. Evidently Bloomberg is a small piece of the bigger picture.”

  “That must be why he’s making his way here. They’re counting on Sean’s songs to make this singer an international star so they can hide their stolen artifacts and merchandise among the CDs that are shipped.”

  “I don’t get where Chavez fits into the scenario? Why bring us here?”

  Birdie clicked some more and Interpol’s data on Chavez came up. “He’s on their watch list for illegal drugs. His uncle is the head of a drug cartel in Mexico. He has a clothing business that ships internationally. He’s mostly under suspicion because of Uncle. Dad’s dead, killed during a gun battle in the brothers’ family home in Mexico City. Mother and her children moved here right after that. They’ve been estranged from the uncle ever since. Chavez is a naturalized citizen of the United States.”

  “He mentioned that he and Bloomberg have a similar enterprise. What is it?”

  After another few minutes of clicking, Birdie sighed. “Chavez is also in the antique artifact business … pre-Columbian art from Central and South America. I think all those things sitting around here are the real deal.”

  “That’s right they are,” said a voice at the door.

  Both women looked up with guilty expressions on their faces as though they had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Ricardo.”

  His face’s stern look slowly eased into a grin. “You only needed to ask me about my businesses and I would have told you. I assure you they are quite legal.” Glancing at the computer screen, he commented, “Probably a lot more legal than your hacking. Have you ever been caught doing that?”

  Birdie looked up at him. “Who would arrest a little old gray haired grandma playing on her laptop?”

  “Birdie, you are not a grandma. You’ve never had children and you’re not gray haired.”

  “Thanks to my hairdresser and a bottle of magic.”

  Ricardo burst out laughing. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. You ladies are something else. I’ve never seen Mother so happy.”

  “Getting back to business, Ricardo. Do you know a German by the name of Richter. Interpol suspects him of being the head of this illegal international ring. Bloomberg is just a bit player who’s in big doo doo right now.”

  “I don’t know him, but I’ve heard of him. He flies just under the radar so he’s never been caught at anything illegal. This Conti thing is all starting to make sense.”

  “Why did Conti call you for help when he kidnapped us?” Dottie asked.

  “First of all, he never told me he was kidnapping anyone. He said he had a new singer whose husband was trying to kill her. Could she hide out here until they got rid of the husband. I told my men to stay in the warehouse in case the husband showed up. Those were the guys who brought you here.”

  “Why would you even know someone as sleazy as Conti?”

  He laughed. “Trust me, if Mother didn’t pressure me, I wouldn’t give Harry Conti the time of day. At one time he was married to my older sister. They had a child together. In Mexico, family is everything, no matter how sleazy they are. I don’t adhere to that belief, but to keep peace in the family, I let Harry use my place here. Maybe after this, Mother will see the light.”

  Ricardo’s phone rang. “I’ve got to get this. I wouldn’t stay on there too long. They’ll track you. Because of my uncle, they sometimes put a tap on my internet connection.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Who?”

  “They say that they are friends of the Mystical Marvels and they know we are holding them here.”

  “One of them says she’s the niece of Dottie Muldoon. A young guy says he’s the son of Clara Dooley. What do you want me to do?”

  “Bring them to the house.”

  Ricardo returned to the office. “Dottie, do you have a niece?”

  “Yes,
Erin. Why?”

  “I think that she’s here. They’re bringing her and her friends to the house. Perhaps you should meet them at the door so they don’t think that I’m holding you against your will.”

  Dottie hurried downstairs with Ricardo. They stood at the open door and watched Erin and Lou run to her. “Are you alright Auntie?”

  “I’m fine thanks to Mr. Chavez here.”

  “Welcome to my house. This is turning into quite a party. Are you hungry? Come.” Both carloads walked into the spacious hacienda. The Arizona sunset gave the visitors an unrealistic show of color creeping from west to east over the sky as the sun sank behind a ridge of mountains.

  “Juan will get you something to drink. Maria, suppose you set up a little buffet for our guests?”

  Erin tried to tell him that that wasn’t necessary. “We’ll be leaving soon. We’ll get my aunts and Clara and be on our way.”

  Dottie spoke up. “Erin sit down honey. It might be best if we stay here for a while. By the way may I introduce Sophia Chavez, the most gracious hostess in all of Arizona. She’s been a big fan of the Mystical Marvels for a long time. Have something to eat and drink and we’ll explain everything.”

  Erin and Lou looked at each other. Only the girls could be kidnapped, thrown in a van, driven about 200 hundred miles and end up being wined and dined at a hacienda owned by a possible drug lord.

  “First of all, the Chavezes knew nothing about our kidnapping or the ransom for the rights to Sean’s music. Harry Conti is his ex-brother-in-law. Sophia convinced him to help Harry because Harry is the father of her granddaughter.”

  They all looked at Sophia. “She didn’t know about the kidnapping either,” Clara said hugging her new friend’s shoulders. Wade stood by her side and kissed Clara’s head.