Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series) (14 page)

“Who did you use to get a next-day visit?” Zach held up his hand. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. You have to leave. I have to do some hand-holding and assuring the client she has nothing to fear. I’ll come by later.”

I waved and started to walk back to the truck. No kiss, no hug, nothing.

“Zach,” a blonde called, coming out the front door. “I thought you’d left.” She ran to his side. “Who’s she?” She looked me up and down and dismissed me in one glance. I felt dowdy in comparison.

The widow, Chrissy Wright, was a curvaceous blonde who screamed money; complete with a gigantic diamond on her left hand, designer sundress, and strappy shoes.

Zach put his arm around Chrissy, whispering in her ear as they walked back inside.

“That’s the high-maintenance widow,” Creole said, shoving the truck in reverse. “Me-thinks the clingy act is just that, and it’s draining how much attention she demands.”

“Is she the sole heir? How much money are we talking?” I asked.

“It’s all Chrissy’s money, every last million. Maxwell came into the marriage with nothing but his good looks and some dubious pedigree lineage.”

I looked out the window at the well-manicured lawns. “When was the last time someone got murdered on this island?”

“A few years back, one of the residents was shot to death over in Miami, drug deal gone bad, does that count?”

“This island is only accessible by boat or ferry. How does someone murder two people and skip off with twenty-five million in goodies and no one sees or hears squat? Notice the cameras at every single stop light? Did you check those?”

“Are you insinuating I don’t know how to do my job?” Creole slammed on the brakes. “You can get out and walk.”

“I’m not walking anywhere. Thanks for bringing me here, the boat ride was the best part.” I leaned my head back against the seat.

“Then you’re going to do what I tell you?” Creole put the truck in gear.

“I hope you solve this case just so Fab isn’t the subject of a whisper campaign for years to come or worse, moves away.”

“I’ll call and see if I can get you a visitation appointment for tomorrow.”

“That’s nice of you, but I have appointments for the rest of the week.”

“Inmates are only allowed two visits a week and you get five?” Creole looked at me.

I knew he had a question but when he didn’t ask, I let the moment pass.

Creole called ahead to the dock master’s office and let them know we were on our way since the ferry was getting ready to leave. He flashed his police badge and we made our way to the front, where we’d be first off.

My phone rang from inside my pocket. “Hi, Mother. Are you having a good time?” She’d gone to the boat races with Brad, Julie, and Liam.

“We’re headed to Brad’s for dinner. Can you meet us and then we’ll spend the night at his house?”

I poked Creole and put a finger to my lips. “I’m feeling sick,” I lied. “I’m headed home to lie down, Zach’s supposed to come by later.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, have a great time.” I threw my phone in my purse. “Before you start, it was easier to say I didn’t feel good than I’m never setting foot in the Everglades again or at least anytime soon.”

Creole raised his brow. “Brad invited me out to see his place, he made it sound nice.”

“He bought an old run down shack, sticking to the original footprint. He restored it into a nice house. It’s environmentally friendly, solar paneled, entirely off the grid, did all the work himself.”

“And the problem?”

I pushed down ugly memories. “It’s creepy out there; the bugs are the size of small animals. At night it’s eerily quiet, except for the sounds of nature, which are magnified and scary.”

Creole walked me back to my SUV. “Promise to call me before you do something stupid?” He kissed my cheek and flexed his muscles. “You won’t like my reaction if you get hurt.”

CHAPTER 19

“What are you doing here?” I asked, walking into the kitchen. I came home and fell on my bed for a nap from all that fresh air. Boating across the Biscayne tired me out, not to mention the sunburn.

“Tonight we’re going to kiss and makeup.” Zach stood at the island prepping vegetables in a bathing suit and apron.

“I feel overdressed. I’m going to change.” I poured myself a margarita from the pitcher sitting on the counter and headed upstairs. I wasn’t in the mood, but he’d already assembled fish and shrimp skewers and had them ready to grill. I knew for a fact that tequila had a mellowing effect on a bad mood.

I exchanged my jean skirt and T-shirt for a two-piece royal blue bathing suit, pulling on a skirt cover-up and twisting my hair into a clip.

I wanted to drink, have banging sex, and sneak in a couple of questions. I wondered if we could do all three without getting into a fight. I downed the rest of the margarita and headed back downstairs.

Zach eyed my empty glass and picked up the pitcher. He jerked me to him, kissing me. “Come tell me what to do.” He picked up a platter of vegetables and fish, threw his other arm around me, and we went out to the barbeque on the patio.

“Let’s eat out here.” I opened a cupboard and pulled out a tablecloth, three conch shell candles, and a lantern with a large candle. I flipped the melon-colored chair cushions and pulled some colorful throw pillows out of the storage bin. The pool lighting had been set on a timer and would come on in a few minutes. The tall palm tree trunks were wrapped in white Christmas lights. Every flower pot had a solar stake or two. I set the table with flowery napkins and bamboo silverware.

“Where’s your mother?” Zach crooked his finger.

“She’s spending the night in the Glades with Brad. I can’t guarantee complete privacy; anyone could walk in with no notice and no knocking.”  My family knocked on the front door; friends followed the path between my house and the neighbor and entered through the side gate.

Zach took the skewers off the fire, put one on each dinner plate, and added the fresh asparagus. I followed him carrying a pitcher of margaritas for me and a European beer for him.

“This is yummy.” I picked a shrimp off the platter.

“I’m going to see to it that we spend more time together.” Zach rubbed the corner of my mouth. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Because he wants to be with me or check up on me?
That question would ruin the mood. “I haven’t been complaining.”

“We’d have more time together if you’d move in with me,” Zach said.

“Why don’t we try a vacation or something before making address changes?” I downed my second margarita. “What happened to the pool of blood where I shot that guy who died face down?”

“A crime scene cleaning service got most of the blood cleaned up, and then I refinished the concrete floor.” Zach had completely renovated the upstairs floor of an old warehouse into ultra-modern living quarters with glass, chrome, and leather furniture; but it had no swimming pool, not even a hot tub.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell him that if anyone was moving it would be him and that was a big “if.” He’d never tolerate the steady stream of people who came and went; my fear was that he’d scare everyone away. He’d succeed in getting rid of Fab.

“Why don’t you like Fab?” I managed to ask calmly.

Zach’s face tightened. “We’re talking about living together, not Fab. Dinner’s almost over so now’s not the time to fight.”

“No fighting. I do have a couple of easy questions for you.” I devoured the fish and decided enough with the vegetables.

“I like Fab just fine. As a PI, she’s as good as any of my men.” He finished off his beer. “She has a reckless side. Since the two of you have become best friends, you take unnecessary chances every day. And you end up paying the price. One of these times you might not walk away alive.”

I wanted to tell him that I’m happy I’d toughened up since arriving in The Cove, no longer anyone’s doormat. I held out my glass for a margarita refill. He’d be lucky to get sex; I might just pass out drunk first. I reminded myself,
no fighting
.  I asked, “Why do you think Fab murdered two people?” 

“I don’t. It’s not a stretch that she’d shoot her ex-husband, there is a fine line between hating him and wanting him dead. But I don’t think she’d kill a total stranger. Since I’ve known her she’s scared more than a few men out of their shoes but hasn’t killed a single one of them.”

“In Fab’s mind, she thought she could do this one job and he’d be gone.”

“Never happen. They’d be looting mansions until they both ended up in prison.”

Zach’s face turned hard and edgy. He believed the right woman sat behind bars. His main concern was the art and jewelry, he wanted it back for his client and he didn’t want to tarnish AZL’s perfect track record.

“Do I think she partnered on this heist and things went horribly wrong? This job mirrored the last one she pulled with Gabriel, and like the other, the valuables are nowhere to be found. How is it that Fab’s the one left standing and doesn’t know a damn thing?” Zach asked.

“In all the time that you worked with her, did she ever steal anything?”

“She’s retrieved a few things and returned them to their rightful owners, but no, she’s never stolen anything. When I first hired her she came clean about her past, convinced me it was all behind her.” Zach’s eyes narrowed. “Why would she get involved with Gabriel again?” 

“Gabriel threatened to kill me and my family. He came to town, stalked her, and learned her routine. One morning Gabriel stopped by for a friendly chat, sat at my kitchen table, and pointed a gun at me, demanding her appearance.”

Zach’s fist hit the table hard, toppling my glass and the last of my drink. “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” 

“I thought the problem solved itself when, shortly after, he got arrested. I hoped for deportation.”

“What did he get arrested for?” Zach closely scrutinized my face in that official way when trying to spot lies.

“I honestly don’t know what the charges were.” No need to mention Creole’s involvement now that those two were getting along. The best thing that could be said, they were friendlier. The odds on best friends again were unlikely.

I stacked the dishes on a bamboo tray and carried them into the house. One night I lazily left a couple of dishes behind and, the next morning, I had big palmetto bugs walking on the table. The three-inch bugs were cousins in the cockroach family. Soon after, I found a nest in some red-bark mulch nearby. I forcibly evicted them, replacing the mulch with seashells.

All the talk about Fab put Zach in a distant mood he seemed determined to hold onto. He moved from the table to a chair at the side of the pool, staring into the water.

If he had plans for an early exit, he was about to have his mind changed. I walked up behind him, running my fingernails across his neck, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. I stepped in front of him and he looked up at me, his blue eyes hot with frustration. I untied my cover-up and let it drop to the ground. “Are you ready for a swim?”

“Not in the mood for a swim. Maybe later,” he said.

Unhooking my bathing suit top, I let it fall on top of the sarong. I pushed my bathing suit bottoms down and kicked them off. I grabbed his face in my hands, kissing his lips hard. Hooking my fingers inside his trunks, and tugged slightly. He lifted his hips off the chair and I pulled them off, running my nails from his waist down his legs, tossing the trunks to the growing pile. I held out my hand for him to stand up, and then shoved him onto his back on the double chaise, which was slightly smaller than a double bed. I straddled him, pushing him flat against the cushion.

 “Would you cook naked for me sometime?” I asked.

* * *

“Dude you need to put some pants on. Grandmother’s here,” I heard someone whisper. I opened my eyes; I lay stretched across Zach’s body, my head in the middle of his chest, a beach towel draped across my butt. Zach and I had fallen asleep by the pool, both of us naked. Liam stood over us.

Zach tightened his grip, holding me down so I wouldn’t jump up and share too much.

My brain was liquor soaked, and I still felt a little drunk. “What’s going on? How did you get here?” 

“Grandmother didn’t want you to spend the night by yourself, because you’re upset about Fab being in prison.” Liam stared at us like a disapproving father. “We drove back from The Glades in the middle of the night.”

Liam had to be exaggerating but if he’s here, then Mother is in the house. “Where is she now?”

“Upstairs checking on you.” 

“Go stall her.” As soon as Liam cleared the patio doors, I jumped up. “Grab your suit and get in the pool,” I told Zach. “She’ll think we were swimming.” I grabbed my suit off the ground, going down the steps into the pool as Zach jumped in.

“Why do I think you’ve done this before?” Zach pulled on his trunks.

“Aren’t you glad we didn’t go up to my bedroom? We might not have heard her.” I turned around so that Zach could hook my bathing suit top.

“You’re a grown woman. She has to know we...umm...whatever.”

“We don’t talk about sex and we’re not going to start.” I kissed him.

Mother and Liam walked through the French doors; I heard them talking about a video game. Liam had changed into his swim trunks and jumped into the deep end.

Mother sat at the top of the pool steps and pushed up her Capri pants to put her feet in the pool. “How’s Fab?”

“She’s got another bond hearing this week, hopefully they’ll lower it to something reasonable,” I replied.

Zach drug the basketball hoop into the water, and he and Liam started shooting Styrofoam balls, yelling out their score.

CHAPTER 20

I needed to stay busy until my next jail visit later in the afternoon, so it was a good time to check up on The Cottages. Not paying attention—busy staring at Carly and Miss January walking down the driveway together—I barely missed the front planter.

Those two were a most unlikely duo. Carly, a neighborhood drunk, lived several streets over in a house nicknamed “the drunk house.” The several women who lived there had a history with the law and, when they weren’t in jail, they got into fist fights and scared the neighbors.