Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise (31 page)

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Authors: Deborah Brown

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BOOK: Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise

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Chapter 3

I drove up to my aunt’s house, stopped the car for a moment and stared at what was now my new home. My brother and I spent every summer of our childhood here. I always loved this place; it’s filled with happy memories.

The house is located down a side road, off the main highway, in the outskirts of Tarpon Cove. It’s a two-story Key West-style home, with gingerbread trim and a large porch wrapping around the entire perimeter of the second story. I pulled my Tahoe in the driveway, opened the gate, and pulled into the courtyard, which could easily hold two cars.

I walked around the back, and through the pool area, which had always been my favorite part of the house. I used to sit outside under an umbrella and read, and then dive into the cool water whenever the spirit moved me. I looked forward to doing just that on a regular basis.

I walked across the patio area and came to an abrupt stop. An exceedingly good-looking man appeared to be asleep in one of the chaise lounges.

“Excuse me!” I called.
Wow, he’s good looking
.

He opened his eyes and slowly looked me up and down. They were a deep indigo color and he had jet-black hair.

“Who are you?” I asked, though honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep him.

“I’m a friend of Elizabeth’s.”

At this point, anyone could say they had been her friend.

“Zach Lazarro. Surely she mentioned me?” He showed some teeth, which he probably thought passed for a smile. “She talked a lot about you, Madison.”

Aunt Elizabeth, you held out on me in a big way. You never mentioned this man, not once
.

I noticed blood seeping through his shirt from the shoulder area. “Why are you bleeding?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“A band aid or two and I’ll be on my way.”

“I’m calling 911.”

“No, don’t. Please don’t call. There’ll be lots of questions I don’t want to answer.”

“You’re not dying on my patio.”

“I promise,” he smirked.

“I’m either calling a doctor or 911. Your choice.” I was probably overreacting, but I wasn’t going to take the chance.

“I’ll leave.” He tried to stand up, sucked in his breath, pain etched on his face, and he quickly sat back down.

“Leaving isn’t one of your choices,” I told him.

“You’re a tough one, just like Elizabeth.”

I rummaged around in my purse and found my cell phone. “Well?”

“Call Doc Rivers over on Beach Road. Tell him you’re calling for Anthony.”

I dialed 411 and the operator was in the process of connecting me. I swiveled the phone away from my mouth and looked at my patient. “I thought you said your name was Zach?” I questioned.

“Anthony Zach Lazarro, Ma’am,” he smiled.

Good God he’s handsome, and big, bad, tough guy was written all over him. Just the kind of man you’re not supposed to be attracted to
.

“I said ‘hello’,” said a voice in my ear.

I swiveled the phone back to my mouth. “Is this Doc Rivers?”

“Yes and I already told you that. Who’s this?”

Doc Rivers sounded crotchety and as though he were two hundred years old. “My name is Madison Westin. I’m with Anthony Lazarro and he’s here on my patio bleeding.”

“What happened to him?” Doc Rivers asked.

“He wants to know what happened,” I asked Zach…or Anthony…or whatever his name was.

“Gunshot wound.” It was clear, by the way he said it, that it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot.

I sat down hard in the chair behind me. “Gunshot wound,” I repeated. I knew I should have called 911.

“Stupid boy,” he growled. “Where’re you located, sister?”

“3 Cove Road. Do you need directions?” I noticed Zach grinning at me.

“That’s Liz Hart’s house. Why didn’t you just say so?” He hung up.

I stared at the phone and shook my head. “I don’t think he liked me asking if he needed directions.”

“Doc Rivers has lived in The Cove his entire life. All the old timers still go to him even though he says he’s retired.”

“He called her ‘Liz’,” I said. “I never heard anyone call my aunt ‘Liz’ before.”

He winked. “I think they were very friendly. He’s going to like you. He doesn’t show how he feels at first, but he warms up.”

“Gunshot wound? Is this the reason you didn’t want to go the hospital because you knew it would be reported to the police?”

“I came here because I knew Elizabeth would help me. Where is she anyway?”

“She died on Sunday. I just came from her funeral,” I said matter-of-factly, not in the mood for sympathy.

Zach’s face fell. “What the heck happened? I just saw her two weeks ago and she was fine.”

“Heart attack. She passed away in her sleep.”

“I’m a private investigator. I’ve been out of town working on a case and haven’t stayed in touch with anyone.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Elizabeth and I were good friends. I’ll miss her.”

“Stay here while I get the first aid kit and some towels to stop the bleeding.” Let’s hope this wasn’t going to be one of those choices that would come back to haunt me, I thought as I walked into the house.

* * *

“Sit up a little,” I instructed when I returned and then sat with half of my butt on the edge of the chaise. “Should I cut your shirt off or do you think you can pull it over your head?”

Zach groaned as he sat up. “Go ahead and cut it off.”

I cut his shirt straight up the front, around the sleeve, and pulled it off. I pressed a towel against his shoulder to stop the bleeding. You could tell he worked out, broad shoulders and six-pack abs.

He was grinding his teeth, sweat running down his forehead.

“How about some whiskey?”

“Doc will torture me with something when he gets here,” he said, with clenched jaw.

Just then, the side gate opened and through it walked a tall man with a slender build and an amazing head of white hair. He was carrying a doctor’s bag and looked every inch the Southern gentleman.

I crossed the patio to introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Madison. Anthony is over here.”
So, he and Elizabeth had something going on, she was certainly a woman with secrets
.

“What in the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, boy?” Doc asked.

“Thanks for coming, Doc,” Zach mumbled.

“Don’t thank me. If it wasn’t for your mother, your arm could fall off for all I care.” Doc Rivers pulled a patio chair over and sat down, then reached into his bag and pulled out a hypodermic needle.

“I don’t need the shot,” Zach said. “Take the bullet out, clean the wound, and I’ll leave.”

“Who’s the Doctor here?” Doc asked as he rubbed an alcohol pad on Zach’s beautiful, buff upper arm. “You aren’t telling me how to do my job, are you?” He stuck the needle in Zach’s arm.

Zach yelped in pain. “That fucking hurt!”

“Good.” Doc laughed at him.

Zach fell back against the lounger, looking worn out. I realized that I was sitting on the chaise with him, on the side opposite from where Doc Rivers was taking care of things. I didn’t remember doing that, but there I was, sitting with half my butt on the seat again, holding Zach’s hand tightly.

Doc punched his arm.

“Oww!” Zach yelled at Doc Rivers.

Doc looked over at me. “He’s fine. I gave him a painkiller. Soon he won’t feel a thing.” The doctor showed such impressive skills in removing the bullet and bandaging his arm so quickly that I wondered if he made these kinds of house calls regularly.

“I’ll be right back,” Doc said, walking inside to clean up.

“Are you okay?” I asked Zach.

“You can let go,” he smiled. “I’m not going to die on your patio.” He shook his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Amazing grip.”

What a great smile, all those beautiful white teeth. I reached out, and brushed his black hair out of his eyes.

“He needs two to three days rest. Keep the bandages clean and dry,” Doc said as he walked back onto the patio. “I’m prescribing some antibiotics,” he instructed me. “And I’ll give you the prescription for a painkiller, although he’ll resist taking them. Tough guy syndrome. His shoulder will be damn sore, but he’ll survive.”

Doc reached into his bag and pulled out another hypodermic needle. “You’ll never get him to take any medication. He’s too hard-headed.”

“No,” Zach whispered. “I don’t want the shot.”

“Too bad,” Doc said, giving him a shot in the arm. “At least you’ll get one dose of antibiotics and you should sleep through the night relatively pain free. This one’s mostly for the missy here. You’ll be easier to manage on drugs.”

“Listen up Anthony,” the old doctor continued. “Promise me you’ll stay here for a couple of days to recuperate or I’ll call your mother and she can nurse you.”

“Elizabeth isn’t here.” Zach pointed out.

“I just came from her funeral. Never saw such a spectacle,” he laughed. “I told that Dickie guy I’d speak. There were a few others who knew Liz, who would have gotten up and said a few words.” Doc shook his head. “Instead, he chooses a couple of drunks.”

“Are you staying or do I call your mother?” Doc questioned Zach.

Zach turned to me. “Can I stay?”

I nodded, trying hard not to stare at his bare chest and broad shoulders. Call me crazy, but I was looking forward to having him as a houseguest, a diversion from the sadness.

“You did a good job at the funeral getting rid of everyone,” Doc Rivers said to me, giving me the once over. “Elizabeth was proud of you. She left you a lot. Try not to screw anything up.” Doc hugged me. “Liz and I were the best of friends. Call me if you need anything. I better not have to come back here.” He glared at Zach, then left through the same gate he entered.

Now what
? I asked myself. “Zach?” I sat down again next to him on the chaise. He opened his eyes, hooked his one arm around my neck, wound his fingers in my hair, and pulled me into a kiss. Lightning shot through my body. “Zach, stop,” I murmured, though stopping was the last thing I wanted. I was thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him right here on the chaise.

“No. I’ll recover faster.”

“You can’t sleep out here on the patio,” I said between kisses. A small moan escaped my lips, embarrassing me. I pushed away slightly. “The guest room bed will be much more comfortable.”

“Can I sleep with you?”

“No, and behave yourself, or
I’ll
call your mother.”

“Good threat,” he laughed. “I’m a grown man and she still scares me sometimes. This is one of those situations she definitely wouldn’t like.”

“Sit up. We’re going to get you upstairs while you’re high on drugs. Lean against me, and I’ll help you up the stairs.”

He got up slowly off the chaise. I put my arm around his waist and guided him into the house and upstairs. “The first door on the right,” I pointed.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

“I’ll be across the hall.”

I helped him into the bedroom and, while I pulled the comforter off and the sheets down, I realized Zach was still fully dressed.

He saw me looking at him and seemed to read my thoughts. “Take my clothes off.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“You might’ve said yes,” he said.

“Whatever.” I knelt down and removed his black boots, and pulled off his socks. “You’re on your own with the jeans. You can sleep in them for all I care.” I peeled off the pieces of what was left of his shirt. “When I go out tomorrow I’ll get you another shirt.”

“That door goes into the bathroom,” I pointed. “If you need anything, yell.”

“Damn doctor. I didn’t want the sedative, and now I can’t keep my eyes open. Thanks for letting me stay. I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

“No, you won’t. You promised Doc Rivers,” I reminded him. “You leave and I’ll tell. Besides it’ll give you plenty of time to tell me how you knew Elizabeth, and why she would’ve helped you.” I gave him a soft shove and he sat back on the bed. “Now take your pants off and get into bed,” I told him. “I’ll be right back.”

I returned with some bottled water, and a bell for Zach to use to get my attention if he was too tired to yell. His jeans were laying on the floor, and Zach was lying across the bed, naked but for black boxer briefs. Nice butt, long legs, muscled and tanned. I stood staring at him, smiling.

* * *

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Deborah Brown is the author of Crazy in Paradise and Murder in Paradise. She lives in South Florida, with her ungrateful animals, where Mother Nature takes out her bad attitude in the form of hurricanes. You can contact her at [email protected]

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