Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (14 page)

“You just left her?” I scowled at him.

“The light turned green, horns began honking. By the time I circled the block, she was gone. I tried calling her, but she turned her phone off. A few hours later the cops beat on my door with an arrest warrant. They say she accused me of doing this,” he pointed to the picture.

“Why do you think she fingered you?” Fab asked.

“No idea. I never hit a woman in my life; ask my ex-wife. We split because all I ever did was work, and she got tired of being ignored. I
’
ve never been arrested until now.”

“How did you two meet?” I asked.

“At a grand opening party of a beachfront restaurant. She introduced herself, came on to me, and I went willingly. She
’
s sexy as hell.”

“Any ideas who did beat her up?” Fab asked.

He blew out a long breath. “I honestly don’t know much about her, except that I really liked her and she brought fun into my life. In retrospect, I probably came on a little strong, wanted to move the relationship along, see each other more, and be exclusive. Why not tell me she wasn’t interested? She wasn’t shy. Instead, she just hits me with trumped up charges?”

“Have you been contacted by a lawyer representing her?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I can’t contact her, either. She filed for a temporary restraining order, and it got served the next day. Frankly, I never want to see her again, but I need the truth to come out. This kind of a charge could ruin me and bring shame on my kids.”

Fab took a worn black leather notebook out of her purse and asked him a few more questions, writing down all the information he had regarding Kelsey James, starting with how we could find her.

Norton handled himself well, answering all the questions in a straight-forward fashion. There was no hemming or staring around the office, and he came off as believable. I
’
d reserve judgment until I met Kelsey. Why file a police report against the wrong man?

While Fab assured him we
’
d be in touch, I scurried out the door and hustled back to the SUV.

“Couldn’t you be nicer?” Fab glared at me.

“Now you know what it
’
s like going places with you,”
I told her.
“I warmed up a bit towards the end, considering I went in thinking he was an abusive pig.”
      
“If everything he said is true, meeting Kelsey should be interesting,” Fab said.

“Why couldn’t you get us a nice lost dog case?”

Fab snorted. “
FM Associates doesn’t
go out and locate lost dogs and cats. Those calls will be forwarded to you.”

“As long as you come along and drive me.”

“You
’
re getting used to my driving!” She beamed.

“Yeah, it doesn’t make me want to puke as much.”

Chapter 17

“Hungry?” Fab asked.

“I take it we
’
re eating here.” I stared out the window at The Hut. Fab had edged her way through the bumper-to-bumper beach traffic to slide into a parking space out front. It was a long square building, all open seating, and the roof was a series of tiki
umbrellas. 

“You have cash on you?” Fab asked. “We might need some bribe money.”

“You do inform your clients that bribes are billed back to them and that they shouldn’t expect a receipt?”

Fab ignored me and asked the hostess if we could sit in Kelsey
’
s section, but the girl looked a little surprised and informed us that Kelsey no longer worked here.

“Let
’
s go,” I whispered.

She ignored me, headed to a table, and sat down. “Sit,” she pointed to the chair. “We
’
ll find out what the heck happened.”

I opened the menu and perused the high prices. The restaurant was half-filled and, with the lunch rush long over, that meant that it was a popular place. “You know, I
’
ve never had a twelve-dollar hamburger that didn’t taste like shoe leather.”

“Get a salad,” Fab said with no sympathy.

The waitress wore cutoff shorts and a t-shirt tied in a knot, showing off her toned and tan midriff. She came up to take our drink order.

“What happened to Kelsey James?” Fab asked her, ordering for me without asking what I wanted.

The girl's face changed instantly from a forced smile to one of suspicion. “She got fired. It
’
s restaurant policy that we do not to speak about employees, past or present. If you
’
d like, I can call the manager.” She turned and walked away.

“That went well.” I reached in my purse, finding my wallet and took out several twenties.

She came back with our drinks. Her name tag read
Peggy
.

I held up a twenty. “Is this enough for you to tell us why she got fired?”

She eyed the money and looked between the two of us. “Who the hell are you two?”

Fab flipped open a badge and answered. “She got assaulted the other night, and we
’
re here on behalf of the police department to investigate.”

If you didn’t stare too hard, Fab's badge looked like the real thing but, in fact, it was just a PI badge, easily purchased in a uniform store.

“She got caught stealing.” Peggy jerked the money from my fingers. “Instead of ringing up cash sales, she pocketed the money and gave free drinks to her drunken friends. During liquor inventory, a few bottles turned up missing. They weren’t directly connected to her, but who else could it have been? Gossip has it she had a habit of taking things out the back door at the end of a late shift.”

Being a thief didn’t answer who blacked her eyes and why.

“Do you know if she got a new job?” I asked.

“Your twenty ran out. You
’
ll need to refill.” Peggy held out her hand.

I handed over the money.

“
Kelsey’
s working at a beach bar, The Whale. Only way you get a job there is if you blow the owner, Harold. Place does a kick-ass business.” Peggy looked around. “I
’
ve got more information for sale. I get off in an hour; I can meet you somewhere.”

“Bring
us
our
check,
” Fab said.

“You
’
ll need to hit the highlights of what I’ll be paying for ahead of time to determine my willingness to pay,” I told Peggy with a frown.

She put her hand on her hip, her lip curled up. “I can tell you all about her, right down to her shoe size. Is that enough of a preview?”

“Where do you want to meet?” Fab asked

“There
’
s a hot dog stand down the street. Looks like a hot pink wiener, can’t miss it. Grab us a table and get me a coke, extra ice.”

“She
’s so charming.
” I said, after Peggy set the check down and wiggled over to a table of college boys.

* * *

“Two hundred.” Peggy held out her hand.

The three of us had settled at an old, round metal table downwind from the fried food smell. I had to readjust my skirt, not wanting to get a rash from where the finish on the chairs had rusted.

The dog stand was located on prime real estate along the main highway that ran through town and up along the coast. If one leaned over and squinted between two neighboring buildings, they
’
d get the barest glimpse of the ocean.

Having been tricked on more than one occasion, I said, “I’ll give you a hundred upfront, and if it
’
s good information you
’
ll get the rest. You waste our time, and she
’
ll shoot you.” I inclined my head in Fab
’
s direction.

“Who are you two really?” Peggy looked wary, as if she was about to leave.

“Two women who bought you a soda,” I said and pointed to it sitting on the table. “We
’
re also willing to pay cash for what amounts to gossip. You deliver and you
’ll find we’
re good tippers.”

Peggy stared out at the slowly passing traffic. “What do you want to know?” she finally asked. “
Kelsey’
s a bitch, but I
’
m sure you know that already.”

“Someone beat Kelsey up two nights ago, and she swore out a complaint against Horton King. You know him?” Fab asked.

“I met him. He came into The Hut all the time, picked up Kelsey sometimes when her shift ended. Seemed like a nice guy, not bad looking, reeked of money. Figured it would end badly. The poor guy was clearly in over his head; he was no match for Kelsey.” Peggy half-laughed. “Did he do it?”

“He says not. There isn’t a mark on him.” Fab scrutinized her as she answered.

“More than likely it was the big gorilla she lives with, Gibbs.”

“Man or an ape?” I asked.

Fab snorted at me.

“This is Florida; she could be shacked up with some hairy animal.”

“Gibbs is her husband––or so they say; no one got invited to the wedding. A back to nature event on the Crystal River,” Peggy said. “No one knows if they did it legally. More than likely he was the one to beat the crap out of her. It wouldn’t be the first time. Probably found out that she was cheating on him––again. Here
’
s what I do know: If Horton really did beat her up, look for him to turn up dead in a trashcan somewhere.”

“If Gibbs beat her, then why finger Horton?” Fab asked.

“Because she
’
s a vindictive bitch and has a serious hatred for her ex-husband, who had her jailed regularly for sport. Since she can’t get back at him directly, she vents her anger on every man she
’
s been with since.”

Peggy reached for my water bottle after downing her drink, unscrewed the top off and downed half, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

“Her first husband had her arrested several times; they
’
d get drunk, he
’
d mark himself up, and call the cops. She finally got a divorce when the judge told her if he ever saw her in his courtroom again she was going to big-girl prison. Now when she
’
s done with a relationship, she has the man arrested—with the exception of Gibbs. Always trumped up charges. She seems satisfied with their mug shot and a day or two in jail. She never makes herself available to the prosecution, doesn’t return the district attorney
’
s phone calls. Even so, one man went to trial and got convicted, even though she never showed up and didn’t testify against him.”

“I
’
m surprised she
’
s not dead,” I raised my eyebrow at Fab. “How long has she been divorced?”

“Ten years. She
’
s the gift that keeps giving.” Peggy clearly had no love for Kelsey.

Fab shook her head in disbelief. “She keeps it up for the fun of it? What?”

“It
’
s a game. It gives her control. Not to mention, under that sweet exterior of hers, she
’
s mean and vindictive. She hunts for men on the beach, finds her prey, a few drinks later, and they
’
re off for as much kinky sex as the guy
’
s wang can handle. She
’
s sexed-obsessed and not choosy,” Peggy snorted.