Greed in Paradise (Paradise Series) (19 page)

“That makes no sense. How does a business disappear in a few hours? I’ll be right over.”

* * *

I screeched around the corner to Clean Bubbles and sure enough, there was no sign that a business had ever been there. The property was completely cleared; not even a speck of trash remained. I pulled over in front of the trailer court.

“Any idea what happened?” I asked the professor, trying not to scream. He didn’t bother to put on his pants for this visit.

“The girls from Twinkie Princesses,” he said, and pointed to the roach coach parked in front of the sidewalk, “said a bulldozer came by knocked it to shit and hauled away every last piece.”

I hadn’t actually met the Princesses since every time I drove by they had a Closed sign displayed. I heard that they specialized in fried food. Didn’t matter what you might request, they’d at least try to fry it up for you. “Anyone get a name?”

“Nope. You have a boyfriend?” He twitched a smile and gave me a wink.

“As a matter of fact I do, and he wouldn’t have an aversion to beating the hell out of a crazy old man.”

“I’m in pretty good shape for an oldster.” He flexed his biceps. “Keep me in mind, I like redheads.”

I’m going home and getting drunk.
I pushed speed dial for Kevin and said when he answered, “I need to report a crime or more like an incident.”

“Another dead body?” he snorted.

“No dead people. Someone came out and bulldozed Clean Bubbles without my knowledge or permission. Isn’t that a crime?”

“You’re calling me about that damned car wash? Good, one less place for criminals to conduct their late night activities.”

“That’s not very helpful when we’re kind of like family.” I should be embarrassed to mention a non-existent relationship. Kevin and I had a few unpleasant verbal exchanges and after that, our tepid relationship went cool.

“If Liam didn’t like you so much I’d hang up on you. Whoever bulldozed had to get a permit. Check with the city.” He did hang up this time.

I thought about Gus Ivers and was relieved that I didn’t have to be the one to tell him his first business had been demolished.

* * *

I called the city of Tarpon Cove to find out about any demolition permits for the car wash and got an overworked woman who had zero interest in my problem. She did finally say that she had nothing on file and if I had bulldozed it without permits, then the city would level a fine.

It hadn’t taken long for Spoon to get back to me. He made a few calls and found out that Owen’s Demo did the job, my name was on the invoice, and they were paid in cash. According to Owen, I had insisted at the time of the demo that I had the proper permits, which they didn’t bother to verify. The fact that Owen overlooked little things like permits was why he’d gotten the job. Not to mention cash is king. The best part was that whoever impersonated me had red hair.

“I don’t dare make an insurance claim. They’ll want to put me in jail if they hear that story,” I said.

Spoon also informed me he beat on the door at the Stones’, and when they didn’t answer he stuck his head in the open window and introduced himself, telling them to be out by the end of the week.

“Don’t make me come back here.” They got the message loud and clear, he assured me.

Mac called, saying Shirl had called her all excited that The Cottages were surrounded by the sheriff’s department and that they had gone door to door demanding everyone stay inside.

“What the hell is going on now?” Fab asked, rounding the corner and parking in the driveway across the street.

Sheriff’s cars blocked The Cottages’ driveway and they parked several more in the street. Kathy sported handcuffs and was being perp walked down the driveway, her head pushed slightly down to get her in the back seat of one of the patrol cars. At that moment, she thought it was a good idea to crack the sheriff in the chin with her head and try to make a run, but she got about a foot away before another officer tasered her, and she slumped to the ground twitching.

Johnson walked across the street. “Trespassing again? Leave now or this time I’ll take you to jail.”

“Mac Lane is the property manager and I have every right to be here,” I told him.

“Can you prove that?” he sneered.

“I have my lawyer on speed dial if you’d like to confirm my story.” I had so annoyed Cruz I’m not sure he’d pick up. “What happened?” I pointed to my property. When he didn’t respond I asked, “Did you hear about the ticket? You won’t have to schedule time off to go to court. It got dismissed.”

His face filled with fury. He turned away without a word and stomped back across the street.

“Cruz came through on our tickets?” Fab asked.

“More like Susie. She’s right, Cruz would never appear on a misdemeanor ticket. Oh, and I’m sending you the bill.”

It surprised me that the chairs were still on the front porch. We settled in with a bird’s-eye view straight up The Cottages’ driveway, we could see every bit of activity.

“What the hell for?”

“When Susie called back with the good news, she said Cruz told her to take a long weekend due to all the difficult clients she’d been dealing with, and suggested she lounge her butt in a waterfront cottage.”

“And she had the nerve to ask for free?” Fab inspected her chair carefully, giving it a good bang on the post before sitting.

“I was a little disappointed in the nice girl routine. I’d have enjoyed some skilled blackmail. Hopefully while she’s here no one gets arrested or shot, I want to save that for when Cruz’s family comes to town, they enjoyed the drama the last time.”

Fab took out her phone. “Get your asses over to the drug house and hurry up.”

“I can’t believe you abuse my employee or her friend like that. You’d better not need to go to the hospital, no perks for you.” Both Mac and Shirl had girl crushes on Fab, and they were probably excited they got the call.

The two of them snuck up, dragging their beach chairs between the palm trees that filled the small grassy area in front of the office.

“What in the hell is going on?” I asked.

“Finally, something good happens.” Shirl snapped her chair open. “Apparently, the Stones have multiple felony warrants. His are chicken change in comparison to Kathy’s.” She pointed. “Oh, look! The dogs are here.”

Two K-9 units rolled up. The back doors opened and the dogs jumped out, sniffed the tires, took a pee, and were ready for work.

“Glad I’m not Ron,” Mac said. “Those two must have seen the sheriffs rocket into the driveway. Before they knocked, the neighbor told the cops Ron climbed out the bathroom window, jumped the fence, and sprinted down the beach.”

Shirl laughed. “Joseph, with tears in his eyes, told me they were headed to a little hideaway in the Glades until everything died down. They might have made it, if they hadn’t come back to loot the cottage of the furniture.”

“Every damn time we rent to a lowlife, they take whatever is not nailed down before they leave,” I said. Frankly, I tired long ago of replacing furniture, which didn’t get stolen as often as the televisions and microwaves.

“Kathy put herself under the scrutiny of the Feds when she hooked up with a forger and started passing fraudulent cashier’s checks. They take a dim view of ripping off banks. I also heard Beach Chic pressed charges for the stolen inventory,” Mac said.

“How do you two get your information?” Fab asked.

“I know every sheriff on the force,” Shirl said, preening. “If you were friendlier, you’d have known this was going down ahead of time.” She shook her finger at me.

I glared at her. “You’re nervy.”

“Almost forgot the best part.” Mac unwrapped the paper off a lollipop and shoved it in the inside of her cheek. “Kathy was under investigation in the disappearance of her missing ex-husband and his girlfriend. That happy couple used to like to brawl until the cops showed up. He always wore the marks of having had the crap kicked out of him. More than once, they found him balled up and bleeding. Then he and his current girlfriend disappeared, no trace, his family screaming ‘murder.’”

“None of this came up in a background check?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Fake last name for her. Ron’s using his dead brother’s name.”

“Turns out Kathy won’t fry for double murder. The ex thought it would be funny to stage an apparent death and skip town, not staying in touch with anyone. They got bored when she didn’t get arrested and came back,” Shirl said.

I covered my face, taking a breath, and looked at Shirl. “What else?”

“Kathy has multiple drug-selling charges in another county. Ron also has drug charges, selling, possession, and bench warrants in three counties. He doesn’t like to appear in court.”

I shook my head. “Remind me in the morning to take felons, pimps, and addicts off the welcome sign in front of The Cottages.”

Shirl looked excited over her next piece of news. “The dead girl didn’t die by the pool, her body had been moved. Same neighbor—the old man in the two-story—called the cops the next day when he heard the gossip about the girl and said he saw her stumble outside into the gravel next to the Stones’ cottage and never got up. A few minutes later, two guys came out of Kathy’s place, took hold of her hands and legs, and went into the pool area. Now we know how she ended up in the chaise.”

“If the sheriff can prove that she died from drugs used inside their cottage, neither of them will get out of jail for a long time,” I said. “Or worse, the Stones sold them to her.”

Mac hit my arm. “Here comes Ron’s parole officer.”

“Evening, ladies,” a basketball-player-tall black man said, looking like he’d had a long day in his rumpled suit. “I’m Ron Stone’s PO, Alvin Black.”

“We’d offer you a seat but we’re out of crappy beach chairs.” I made the introductions.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, but we’ll be here until the dogs drag Stone back and then I can check his junky ass off my list. Next time I need to speak to him I won’t have to go looking very far, he’ll be sitting in a jail cell. Good thing we got here when we did, that so-called wife of Ron’s would have led us on another chase through the swamps again. If that furniture belongs to you, I’m happy to add on another charge,” he said.

“If I could get my furniture back tonight I wouldn’t press charges, but if I have to wait until after a trial then go ahead,” I said.

He laughed. “Been down this road before?”

“Pawn shop experience.” I laughed back. “You might consider that they passed me a fraudulent cashier’s check. My bank says despite what they say, no bank ever issued that check. The bank manager requested a meeting with Kathy, but she didn’t show up and declined to speak with anyone. They did close her account,” I related.

“And to think I stopped by to discuss a dirty drug test with Stone. I imagine Kathy knew if she showed up at the bank, she’d leave in cuffs.”

“If we only had some popcorn,” Shirl said.

The paramedic wagon turned the corner, lights flashing.

“They must’ve found Ron,” I said. “You think he was stupid enough to fight off police dogs?”

Mac pointed. “They’re dragging his ass across the driveway now.” Ron, bent over at the waist, hands cuffed behind his back, struggled with the cops who had him under control. The paramedics met him with a stretcher, pulling the straps tight until he yelped. The lights along the drive and in the trees showed that Ron’s shirt and pants had been torn and there was blood rolling down the side of his face. His arms and legs covered in sand and dirt, he looked like he’d been mauled by a pack of dogs instead of just two. The medics gave him a brief look-over and shoved him none-too-gently in the back of the EMS wagon and sped off.

Mr. Black walked back over, saying, “Get the truck unloaded before the tow truck gets here and you can keep your furniture.”

“Leave the chairs here, we may need them again.” I pulled on Fab’s arm. “Come on, princess, you too.”

“I don’t like manual labor.” She pouted.

I frowned. “That’s so sad. If you don’t help, I’ll non-stop whine about it for the next week.”

Mac and Shirl were glued; it wouldn’t surprise me if they were rooting for Fab to tell me off.

Fab and I had our feet on the railing, kicked back on the deck at Jake’s. She just beat me soundly at pool, taking no mercy. I’m not sure why I subjected myself to the humiliation. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d hustled men out of cash at some time or another.

“No one died today?” Fab inclined her head toward the door.

“Be nice. I think this is their first time.” I waved to Dickie and Raul.

The pair looked oddly out of place here at Jake’s, Dickie in his wrinkled polyester pants and rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt and Raul in a shorts and a muscle shirt showing off his well-developed biceps. They slid into chairs opposite Fab and me.

Raul looked around. “A lot cleaner than when Jake owned the place.”

“Come by for your free lunch?” Fab winked at Raul.

Dickie cleared his throat. “We need to hire the two of you for a little business problem.”

I motioned the waitress to take their order; it’s always easier to talk over food and drink. “We’re happy to help, aren’t we, Fab?” I nudged her leg.

“For you two, we’ll do it for free.” She smirked at me.

Fab bonded over board games with Raul during a short stay at the funeral home. Her relationship with Dickie had improved; at least she didn’t scare him anymore. I’d never let her forget she agreed to a freebie.

“Slow today?” I asked politely.

“We picked up two bodies this morning, their families will be in tomorrow,” Dickie said. “One indicated they’d like a themed funeral.” He sighed.

“I told him not to stress it. I got a referral to a quirky party planner up in Miami who thinks outside the box,” Raul said, patting Dickie on the shoulder.

“Another word for weird crap.” Fab laughed.

I bit my lip and tried to keep a respectful look on my face. “How can we help you?”