Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (28 page)

Why me?
I mouthed.

“
Your idea,
” Fab replied quietly.

“Brick, we need a big favor.” I decided to skip the pleasantries and get to the point of our call. “We need to borrow a small car that blends in, nothing flashy. Preferably with tinted windows. Deliver it to Conch Key. Leave it parked in the Shopping Bag grocery store parking lot. As soon as possible would be a good time.”

“You two in trouble?” he groaned.

“Not yet. Can we count on you?” I asked. “One more thing. When the cops come calling, tell them you haven’t heard from us.”

“You need anything else, call me,” Brick offered.

I tossed her phone back. “Surprised me. He didn’t ask questions and went so far as to offer future help. He was too cooperative; I say we ditch his loaner as soon as possible.”

Fab half-smiled. “When Creole shows up, you have to be nicer, no arguments. Don’t be obvious, but try to weasel information out of him. Don’t encourage him to stay the night.”

She added, “Don’t you be too nice. That will make him suspicious.”

Fab turned on the television. It looked ancient; it wouldn’t have surprised me if turned out to be black and white. Instead, it had grainy color with a handful of stations. Maybe the dog ears, or was it rabbit, would help with reception. Apparently, law enforcement didn’t have a budget for cable in safe houses. Fab flipped through the channels twice and clicked it off, slamming down the remote. The cover fell off and one of the batteries rolled out on the floor.

A drab rug differentiated the kitchen from the rest of the room. I ransacked all the cupboards, finding nothing but mismatched dishes and a few cooking utensils. No coffee! We had to be out by morning. The cupboard in the corner held an old Clue game with most of the pieces missing, a pack of well-worn Bicycle cards, and a box of poker chips.

“The one who wins,” I said as I shook the box, “Buys coffee when this is all over. I prefer The Bakery Café, as you know,
and don’t
forget I like extra whipped cream.”

“Don’t make me hurt you. I
’
m out of patience,” she groused.

We both jumped to attention at the same time, hearing the garage door rumble up.

“Hurry up, hand me five cards.” Fab slipped into a chair across from me. “We should have waited downstairs and jumped him from behind. Tie him up, and steal his truck. Let one of his undercover cohorts come rescue his ass.”

I shouldn’t have, but I laughed. “If that scenario played out as you just outlined, he would kill us. No doubt.” I tugged on a strand of her hair. “Remember, happy face or something close.”

Chapter 33

Creole unlocked the door and entered with a brown shopping bag in his hand. He held it up. “Dinner from Jake
’
s.”

I stood up and took the bag. “
Thanks,
” I mumbled.

Damn… remember - happy face.

He eyed me cautiously. I smiled back at him, making an attempt to ease the tension from the room.

“What
’
s the latest?” Fab asked. She picked a few cards out of the deck, then slapped them down on the table.

“I win,” she lied.

I emptied the bag of food and passed on the chipped safe-house dishes, figuring we could eat out of Styrofoam containers with the plastic utensils provided. “
I don’t
suppose you left the margaritas in your truck?”

He looked relieved that I appeared resigned. He dragged another chair out of the corner.

“The dead guy is Rod Tanner. I
’
ve got people running a background check on him. We'll find out who he works for, something that tells us why he ended up on your property,” Creole told us.

Fab and I exchanged looks. That was Jax
’
s other partner. Now that he was dead, would Jax be next?
      

“You
’
ve been vague as to how long you
’
re going to keep us locked up ‘for our own good’,” Fab said, using air quotes. “Does this just go on and on and….”

“I can get a guard if I have to,” he barked.

“Go ahead, see how that works out for you.” Fab laid down the challenge.

“Stop it,” I interjected. “We
’
ve agreed to play nice. Just know this situation can’t go on indefinitely.” I looked at Fab and gave her a demented smiley face. “
Creole doesn’t
need to add on another layer of humiliation, does he?”

“Can you assure this case is top priority and that you
’
re beating the streets?” Fab stood and leaned into his face. “That this isn’t some side job you get to when you have nothing else better to do.”

From his lack of an answer, I had a horrible feeling this might not be a short stay in this dump.

I interrupted their stare down and asked, “Where
’s Didier?
”

“Almost forgot.” Creole pulled his phone out and handed it to Fab. She disappeared out to the patio.

Creole easily lifted me on to his lap and into a kiss. It saddened me to realize it was the first time his lips had failed to distract me from rational thought. I understood his need to protect me, but I felt emotionally pressured. I recognized that I still hadn’t learned to put my foot down, say no, and make my point of view heard.

He pulled back. He wasn’t stupid; he noticed the lackluster kiss. “Tell me you
’
re not mad. Promise me you
’
ll cooperate.”

“My promise has an expiration date, so wind this up as soon as possible.” I hated all this lying and sneaking around. But if I shared my feelings, we
’
d both have a guard assigned to us in a blink. “Are you staying tonight?”

“I
’
ve got some leads to run down. Besides,” he half-smiled, “I
’
d be afraid to fall asleep with Fab here. I’ll be back in the morning with breakfast.”

“We both like pecan rolls,” I reminded him. When he got here and found us gone… what then?

Fab came back in and handed him the phone. “Thanks for that. Didier
’
s in Miami. Another consensus––no one is staying at the house.”

I closed my eyes and thought about the warm pool water, but sneaking home to indulge in a long swim would be foolhardy. I knew we
’
d be caught. We
’
d have to be careful in choosing places to hide.

“I
’
d sit outside and give you some privacy,” Fab sniffed. “But guess what? No furniture.”

She flounced across the room and threw herself on one of the beds, walking her feet up the wall like a kid who
’
d been sent to her room without any toys.

“Unless you want a mutiny on your hands tomorrow, have an update of some sort,” I whispered in Creole
’
s ear.

We both looked at Fab who had started to sing, la-la-la scales. I bit down on my lip, but burst out laughing anyway. Creole looked disgusted.

“Stop! You
’
re hurting my ears.” I shifted in my seat and winked at her. It felt good to laugh, and I planned to ask for more entertainment later.

Creole lifted me off his lap and quirked his brow at me, gathering up the pieces of the remote.

I shrugged.

He flipped through the six stations available and settled on a sitcom that had seen more time in reruns than it ever did in a regular season.

I nodded at the bed but Creole motioned me over to the sagging couch.

“She sniffed it earlier,” Fab told Creole. “Said it didn’t smell all that bad and didn’t see any bugs. Although, I think some of the little ones are hard to locate.”

I flinched but remained in his arms when I really wanted to jump up and brush off my clothes.

Fab finally stopped the noise making and, with a quick glance, it appeared she
’
d fallen asleep, but anyone who really knew her wasn’t fooled. I put my head on Creole
’
s shoulder and zoned out. I
’
d rather read than watch television, but I hadn’t brought a book.

Mercifully the television show came to an end. Creole kissed me. I could tell that he was feeling guilty. Not as guilty as I was, though, knowing we were leaving after he did. I made up for my previous less-than-enthusiastic kiss.

“I
’
ve got to go,” he said, looking relieved.

I walked with him to the door.

“Good night, Fab,” he said. She snored in response and kept it up.

My chest shook with silent laughter.

“
I
don’t think she
’
s one bit funny,” he whispered in my ear.

I leaned in and gave him a long, thorough kiss, knowing it would be the last for a while. We had our escape planned once he cleared the corner.

Opening the door, he gave me a quick peck. It surprised me that he didn’t lock the door. He might trust me, but not Fab. I put my ear to the door, listening to his footsteps on the stairs.

Fab sniffed at the air and then laughed at her own antics. “I smell a set-up.” She walked over to the door and jerked it open, standing in the doorway. She poked her head out and looked around. “No alarm bells.” She ran her hand as far as she could reach around the door frame.

“Get your stuff together,” Fab said.

We gathered up our hidden electronics, the only things we
’
d unpacked. I wasn’t sorry to be seeing the last of this place. Happy I wore sweats, I slipped into my tennis shoes, bending over to tie the laces. This wasn’t the night for flip flops. I shoved cash and identification into my pockets and strapped my gun belt around my waist before pulling my t-shirt down.
 

Chapter 34

The hitch in our getaway plan came as soon as we stepped outside and saw the unmarked police car parked at the front gate, blocking us in. So that must have been what the text was about that Creole got right before he left. He didn’t trust us after all.

We had scoped out the property earlier and knew there wasn’t another exit. Even if I could be convinced to scale the ten-foot chain link fence, the rolled barb wire along the top took that option off the table.

Fab pulled my arm and motioned me to follow. She paused to peek around the side of the building.

I kept one eye peeled to see if we had attracted the attention of our guard and followed her to the foot-wide seawall that ran along the back of the property. I peered over the side and gauged the distance to the deck below, which required an eight foot jump and enough thrust to miss falling in the two-foot strip of slimy water between the seawall and planked deck.

Fab considered this as just another challenge to overcome. She certainly didn’t consider going back and coming up with another escape route.

She shoved her backpack at me and slithered around a tiny space at the far corner of the chain link fence, one leg at a time, butt hanging over the water. On her hands and knees, she crawled to a set of steps that had been anchored to the seawall.

“Watch what I do; you
’
re going to copy me.”

Why couldn’t they go all the way down to the deck?
I thought.  At least they made the final jumping distance shorter.

Fab hoisted herself to a standing position, and scurried to the bottom step. She jumped! Landing in a crouch, she stood up.