Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (21 page)

I tried to elbow her, but she saw it coming and moved away.

“How were your accommodations?” I asked Carlotta, knowing she
’
d never been in a trailer in her life before last night.

I also doubted that she
’
d appreciate the hard work my brother had put into making the place into a happening tourist spot. Judging by the out of town license plates in the parking lot, the Trailer Court had been sold out again last night.

“The professor was positively delightful,” she crooned up at him. “He made me feel quite welcome. He gives the best foot rubs.”

Rendered speechless, I just stared.

Fab burst out laughing.

Crum cleared his throat. “I have two bedrooms, and I thought a woman of her stature shouldn’t be by herself.”

I wondered how much Carlotta had shared about herself, but I refrained from asking.

Carlotta giggled at him.

“Have you figured out your future plans after a good night
’s sleep?
” I asked.

The two of them looked at one another and blushed, looking guilty. I sighed and hoped they wouldn’t get caught horizontal by her son. I
’
d love to see the look on Carmine
’
s face if Crum said, “You can call me Daddy.”

“The professor and I are going to discuss my options. I’ll let you know as soon as I
’
ve made my decision,” she said haughtily.

One thing the two had in common––that same condescending personality.

At the top of my mental to-do list: call Brick and find out what was going on before this situation blew up in my face.

“Where
’
s Harlot?” I asked.

“I found a… a friend gave me an old couch cushion, and I turned it into a bed for her. She
’
s asleep in the sun on the enclosed porch.”

I tried not to laugh at his BS story about his ”friend”. Wait until Carlotta found out that the esteemed professor dug around in the trash for that couch cushion.

Chapter 25

“You know how you like surprises?” Fab asked.

Once I got in the SUV and the door locks clicked down, I knew we were headed somewhere I didn’t want to go.

“
I
don’t and you know that.” I never seriously entertained jumping from a moving vehicle, and hoped I wouldn’t regret not taking that foolhardy leap.

“I
’
m taking you to lunch––at The Whale.”

Her toothy smile raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

I suddenly knew why. “We
’
re confronting Kelsey James? Do you have your game day plan? Or is this why I'm being railroaded, to come up with something plausible before we get to Fort Lauderdale?”

“I thought we
’
d use a good cop/bad cop approach.”

“You need me to be the nice person.”
I smirked.

I rolled down the window. The salty smell of the Atlantic blew across my face, another reminder of why I never regretted relocating to South Florida. The drive along Ocean Boulevard, although heavily trafficked in certain places, never got old. I craned my neck to watch the crystal blue waters crashing onto the white sand.

The restaurant was a nondescript building across the street from the ocean. It was a gorgeous day, baby blue skies, a few fluffy clouds, and there wasn’t a vacant chair on the outside patio.

Fab pulled into a parking space next to a white jeep. She looked in the rearview mirror. Kelsey James was in the parking lot, a lucky blow for us.

“Right on time,” she said. She jumped out and I followed.

Fab leaned against the driver’s side door of the woman
’s car.
“We have a few questions about Horton King.”

The blonde woman wiggled her way across the driveway in barely-covering-butt-cheek jean shorts and a filmy hot pink top to match the ends of her hair. Kelsey didn’t look happy. According to her driver
’
s license, she'd just turned thirty.

I reached back into the Hummer and drew Fab
’
s “police” badge out of my purse. Hopefully, Fab wouldn’t ask how I came to be in possession of it, so I wouldn’t have to admit to borrowing it and playing a little game with Creole. At first he wasn’t amused, but he came around when he figured out what I had in mind. He did warn me against impersonating law enforcement, but there was no harm in letting people think what they want, even if it is incorrect.

Kelsey spotted us from a dozen paces away, a scowl lining her features.

“
I
don’t know what you want, and I don’t care. Now move.” Kelsey tried to reach around Fab to get in the Jeep.

“We could go and wait at your trailer, ask Gibbs a few of our questions.” Fab smiled, but it wasn’t friendly.

“You
’
re lame,” she laughed. “My husband and I are simpatico. He knows everything there is to know about me. Tell him whatever you want. I’ll call you out as the liar that you are, and he
’
ll whoop your ass and toss you to the curb.”

“He knows you
’
ve had a dozen men arrested on bogus charges?”

“That many? Men can’t hit women and get away with it.” She clucked her tongue. “As long as I don’t press charges against him, he couldn’t care less.”

Kelsey turned to walk away and Fab grabbed her arm.

“Drop the charges.”

She shrugged out of Fab
’s hold.

“Aww, is Mr. Good Guy afraid of a little jail time?” Kelsey wiped a non-existent tear from her eye. “A good lawyer will get the charges dismissed when I don’t show up to testify. Out of my way, bitch.”

“Do it now.” I flashed the badge. “Or I’ll drag every man you ever accused into court, and you
’
ll be forced under court order to testify. Then you
’
ll be on the receiving end of being charged with a felony or two and have a re-acquaintance with jail.”

“
You can’t
prove Horton didn’t
hit me.
”

A dark-haired man in dress pants and a dress shirt called, “
Hey Kelsey,
” and waved.

I noticed his name badge, but his clothes were too expensive to be a waiter. The leather loafers cost more than a server would make in a month, so I took a leap.

“Your boss? Does he know you were fired from your last job for stealing? The job before that, you cleaned out the cash register on the way out the door?”

“Gibbs has a job, too. How about we show up there to ask a few questions about his wife and other men?” Fab asked.

“I’ll give the prosecutor a call. Satisfied?” She walked around to the passenger’s side, unlocking the door.

Fab, right behind her, handed her a business card.

“This is a lawyer who
’
s expecting your call. No charge to you. If he doesn’t hear from you in the next two days, we won’t be back; we
’
ll introduce ourselves to Gibbs instead.”

Kelsey jerked the card from Fab's fingers and got in the car. After slamming the door and crawling into the driver
’
s seat, she backed out of the parking lot, giving us the finger.

Fab and I pulled out behind her and went in the opposite direction.

“You know what I noticed?” Not waiting for an answer, I continued. “She never said, 'but he beat me, bruised me', whatever. That
’
s what I would
’
ve said. I probably would've thrown in some real tears, too. Getting worked over black and blue is a hideous experience.”

“I felt guilty not believing Horton before I met her. But after reading the file Phil put together, I got over that.” Fab
’
s expression was grim. “Miss Hot Mess is reckless with other people
’
s lives. It surprises me that she
’
s still alive. Some people live under a shining star and get away with doing what they want, when they want. It
’
s a bitch when it catches up.”
 

Chapter 26

Fab made faces and a couple of unintelligible noises at her cell phone, then ended the call with “text me
." She
threw the phone on the chaise next to her leg. I knew our short time lounging by the pool in the warm sun was about to come to an end. Hopefully, it wasn’t something that would require guns.

“We
’
ve got a job,” Fab announced.

“We? Funny thing, I never heard my name mentioned, and whoever was on the phone didn’t
ask for me.
”

Jazz looked up at me and meowed. Although he
’
d gone right to sleep like no human could ever do, he seemed to notice when I stopped petting him.

“
Just once, can’t
you be agreeable?” Fab fumed.

“And miss out on an opportunity to irritate you?
I
don’t think so.” I pointed my finger at her, effectively cutting off her next words, and she glared instead. “I
’
m going to want something in return for all of my cooperation. Favors, IOU
’
s, whatever you want to call them. You could replace your growl with… well… a smile would be too much to hope for, but something friendly. Say, when I click my flip flops, you do your cheery best. Are we agreed?”

“
I
don’t like IOU
’
s. We
’
re like sisters.”

“’
Sisters
’.
That’s so manipulative, but good. You only don’t like them, because you didn’t think there was a chance in some place excruciatingly warm that you'd ever owe me. Now that I have a drawer full, you
’
re pouty. Deal or no?”

The ring of her phone broke the silence. She read the message. “Deal. Now let
’
s go.”

“Hold on, favorite sister. How about some details?”

“I’ll tell you when we
’
re on the road and you can’t jump out.” She laughed. “We need to change. Wear tennis shoes, and don’t leave your damn gun on your bedside table.”

I flinched at
tennis shoes.

* * *

Fab blew down the Overseas Highway, past the shimmering turquoise and deep-green waters of the Atlantic and Gulf. The scenery never got old, rushing past swaying palms under blue skies with fluffy white clouds. Fab careened off the road at Islamorada, a city made up of small islands, halfway to Key West.

“It
’
s a car retrieval job,” she broke into my reverie. “There is a slight catch; this one doesn’t have a GPS locator on it, so we have to find it first.”

“It surprises me Brick would let a car off his lot without GPS, for as many that don’t get returned. What are we looking for?”

“A 1960 cherry-red Corvette. White convertible top, in pristine condition.”

“Nice! Do I get to drive it back?” I raised my eyebrows. “
You can’t
drive both cars at once.”