Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series) (4 page)

I heard a loud noise in the background. He either hit his hand on the desk or threw something.

“You were coming in anyway because I’ve got a job for you. Straight-up investigation. I need someone to go out, be nice, and schmooze info, which––before you ask––is why I didn’t call Fab.”

“How can I work for you with no car?” My charming voice needed work; I sounded whiney.

“I have a nice Chevy Vega washed and gassed for you. Tomorrow morning, Red.” Brick hung up.

Mac pulled open a drawer and held out a five dollar bill. “This says you’re back tomorrow in the Hummer.”

“I’m so happy I hired you and even happier that I’ve never regretted my decision.” Mac cornered me one day at the pool applying for the job, five minutes after the idea of hiring a manager left my lips. There’s a party-line for gossip in the neighborhood that’s unmatched anywhere. The idea of sitting in the office all day held not a sliver of interest to me. I’d have to drink starting in the morning.

Mac jumped up and raced to the window. “Look, another carload of people stopped to have their pictures taken in front of the burned out mess.”

I opened the door. “Dare you to go out there and start charging people.”

“A buck a pic? I don’t want to make change.” Mac headed over to the picture poachers and I left.

CHAPTER 5

I cruised into Jake’s and parked my Hummer in the space next to the SUV I’d finally talked Mother into getting. I refused to barricade myself inside my home. Damn Gabriel for making me afraid in my own house. Not knowing what Fab was getting herself into didn’t help. I almost forgot that tonight I had volunteered to fill in for my regular bartender; her young son is the star tomato in his school play.

Mother sat at the bar trading jokes with the day bartender, Phil. She nodded to me and disappeared into the kitchen.

“You did a good job on the deck,” Mother hugged me. “I just enjoyed a cigar out there.”

“Jake had a stack of code violations, all of which he ignored. The deck being the biggest problem, it had rotten, termite eaten boards and studs barely held together with rusted screws, and shorter than the code demands. How no one went tumbling to the concrete below is a mystery. I replaced the entire deck and cleared every outstanding violation. Once I got rid of the roaches and power washed the entire place, the ‘C’ rating got raised to an ‘A.’”

Jake managed to evade being shut down by opening the deck on nights and weekends when he figured no inspector would show up. What he didn’t know was that his luck had run out, and he’d been days away from being padlocked. He gambled his life into a complete train wreck. Had he stayed in The Cove, he’d be dead by now. The people he borrowed from took a dim view of late payments.

Mother looked around. “You’ve done a good job classing up this dingy bar.”

Phil came out of the back with two racks of clean glasses, set them down, and then grabbed her motorcycle helmet and jacket. “See you tomorrow, boss.”

She’d sauntered into the bar during renovations, the Help Wanted sign in her hand. “I’m your new daytime bartender.” Dressed in short-shorts, a tankini bathing suit top, and cowboy boots, she’d bring in the business. I hired her on the spot.

“I have followers,” Phil informed me when we shook on the deal. Under Jake’s control, the bar was a ghost town during the day, the occasional customer coming in for verbal abuse from the unfriendly owner. We now did a brisk lunch business; the cook complained he didn’t have enough time to talk on his cell phone.

“It’s been fun. Word’s spread; we get busier every day. Business has boomed since I hired people with personality and big boobs.” I looped my arm through Mother’s. “Come sit at the other end of the bar and I’ll buy you a drink.” She’d soon learned it was the best seat in the place to people-watch, and had the added advantage of no one being able to sneak up on you.

Filling a glass with ice, I poured her a Jack Daniels, her signature drink. “How often did you gamble in the back room?”

“Really, Madison.” Mother said, looking flustered.

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “Don’t bother to deny it; Jake ratted you out a long time ago. I’m thinking about re-opening the room.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if I opened the door back there and it was all ready for play,” Mother said, pointing down the hall past the kitchen, “even though it is illegal.”

“A few of the old players have stopped by since Jake’s re-opened, letting me know they missed the ‘friendly card games.’ I’m thinking invitation only, no cash on the table, buy chips ahead of time, and cash out after. Private bar set-up; small buffet and a private hostess.”

“Can we smoke?” Mother asked. “When’s the first game?”

A large group of beach goers, all coupled up, tried squeezing in the door at the same time, heading straight to the deck and claiming half the tables.

“Would you like to help me pick the cigars for the standing humidor? Did you know I hired one of your boyfriend’s parolee friends? He comes with an impressive set of carpenter skills; less chance of word getting around.” 

Jimmy Spoon, Mother’s boyfriend, had long ago done prison time and he paid back by mentoring newly-released felons; he gave them a chance at a fresh start with a job and a place to live. To my knowledge, he had a one-hundred percent success rate.

Creole walked out of the kitchen. The few days of facial stubble that shadowed across his face gave him an even more dangerous look.

“Hello, ladies,” He said before he kissed Mother and sat down next to her. “I’ll take whatever you have on tap.”

I extended my cheek to him. “We have a front door.” My phone rang. “It’s about time,” I answered, setting an ice-cold beer glass in front of Creole.

“I didn’t want you to worry. I’ll be away for a few days.” Fab sounded stressed.

That worried me because nothing fazes her. “That’s not acceptable.” My voice went up with each word. “I’m here at Jake’s. You tell that piece of crap ex of yours that if I don’t see your face in one hour, I’m calling Brick. Tell Gabriel, tick-tock.” Brick had a brother, Casio, who was second or third in command of Miami detectives. I knew him well enough to know he wasn’t a rule follower and he owed me.

Fab shushed me. “Calm down. Really, I’m fine.”

“Listen to me, Fabiana Merceau. One hour or I’m calling everyone I know.” She rarely listened to anyone, but I wasn’t backing down.

“We’ll be there.” Fab sighed and hung up.

“What the hell was that all about?” Mother demanded. “What kind of trouble is Fab in?”

“The felony kind. If either of you can’t keep what I tell you a secret, let me know now.” Both shook their heads, indicating that they would keep their mouths shut. I told them about Gabriel’s morning visit. I noticed Creole’s eyes turn to steel when I told them about his threatening to shoot me.

“Don’t tell Fab she just missed me.” Creole stood up. “I think I’ll arrange a little meet and greet.” He kissed Mother and slipped out the back door.

“We’ll stop Fab from committing felonies.” Mother patted my hand.

Gig, another new hire, was rapidly becoming a favorite. The striking blonde worked her curvy assets and currently in her last year of college. “Two Buds, glass of your finest Cabernet, and a Pimple on Your Butt.”

“You do this to me just so I’m forced to ask how to make the damned drink.” I passed her the beers and screw top wine. “Here’s a wine glass for your connoisseur,” I chuckled.

She laughed and handed me a list of ingredients: vodka, coffee, triple sec. “See what happens when you class up the place?”

“What’s happening out on the deck?” They were loud but laughing, having a good time.

She handed me another piece of notepaper. “They all ordered bottled beer. As soon as I deliver, I’ll take the food order.”

“You need help, yell.”

Mother slid off her barstool as Fab came through the door, hugging her and whispering something in her ear. They both came and sat at the bar.

“What does he want from you?” I looked her over; she looked tired but had no marks anywhere. “Good to see you, by the way.”

Fab smiled limply. “He wants us to burgle homes until he has the two million he was expecting from the sale of the painting.”

“Do you or did you ever have the painting?” I hadn’t forgotten she didn’t answer the question the first time I asked.

“I had it briefly and used it to broker a deal for myself, getting the charges dropped and cover travel expenses to get out of France. My parents believed I was a pawn of Gabriel’s and asked an influential friend of theirs in parliament for his help. He laughed at my ‘pitiful’ story, but in private he told me if I wanted his help, the price would be the painting. And not for altruistic reasons; he wanted it to hang in his house.”

“Did your parents ever find out the truth?” Mother asked.

“I’d become an embarrassing disappointment to them and believe they were relieved when I fled France.”

“Gabriel had the painting when he left the estate, but when apprehended, the painting had disappeared. What happened in between and how did you find it?” I asked.

“You know how snoopy I can be. Gabriel never knew that I went through his drawers, pants, cell phone; little did he know he had few secrets from me. He left the receipt for the storage locker on his desk. I slipped his keys out of his pants pocket and made impressions. Gabriel got captured a block from the place.”

“Your snoopy ways are annoying to me.” I pushed a lime and soda Fab’s way.

“When I went to retrieve the painting, the key didn’t work so I ended up picking the lock. I’d already obtained an inexpensive copy. I figured he’d think the original had been a fake all along.”

“That was clever,” Mother said.

Fab looked defeated, which made me angry. “Tell Gabriel to take a hike. You don’t owe him squat.” I refilled Mother’s drink. “You’re spending the night,” I told her.

“He’s angry and bitter. He did prison time, I didn’t. Getting the divorce papers in his jail cell stoked the seeds of retribution. He expected me to stand by him, visit, write, and be waiting with open arms when the steel doors opened. Instead, I fled and never looked back.” Fab downed her soda. “I have to go. Gabriel’s already suspicious. He’s threatened your family, and mine in France. I’m not calling his bluff.”

Mother took Fab’s face between her hands. “Do
not
do anything illegal with this man. If you do, I’ll have to hurt you,” she said, using her no-nonsense mother voice. “You can hide out at my house and we’ll make him disappear.” She kissed her cheek.

Fab threw her arms around Mother. “I love you as though you were my own mother. I’ll stall him as long as I can.”

“Think of a plan B,” I told her.

“I have to go. I’m surprised Gabriel hasn’t burned up my phone. Love you both.” Fab slipped out the back door.

“What the hell is wrong with the front door?” I asked Mother. “Do I need to ask someone else to muddy their hands making that worthless bastard disappear?”

Mother’s worry lines popped in her forehead. “Have you noticed Creole never came back?” She looked around.

“Maybe he’s putting Gabriel on a slow freighter to a foreign country he’ll never get out of.” I crossed my fingers.

Fab rushed through the front door, out of breath. “Gabriel’s gone.”

“He stole your car?” Or more accurately, he’d stolen one of Brick’s cars, and that would be a big mistake.

“The Beemer is still sitting there but Gabriel has disappeared. He couldn’t get far on foot. I’ll go out to the highway.”

“No,” Mother and I said in unison.

I looked at Mother. She had a smirk on her face. “Consider it a good sign from above. With really good luck, he’ll never come back.” We were both thinking the same thing: Creole.

CHAPTER 6

Black storm clouds gathered in the distance, an impending storm coming our way. Mother lay next to me on my king-sized bed, sending a message on her phone. “When did you push the chair under the doorknob?” I looked at the bedroom door. “Where’s Fab?”

“I took Hairball downstairs to keep her company on the couch. Just sent another message to Creole; his phone is going straight to voice mail.”

Jazz knew Mother called him names and every chance he got he rubbed his long black fur all over her white pants.

“Gabriel threatened to shoot Jazz first.” The thought freaked me out. I knew he’d die one day, but not from a bullet.

“As of an hour ago, Fab hadn’t heard from Gabriel––and no word from Creole.” Mother brushed her hands together and continued, “I think one and one adds up to ‘Creole took care of the problem.’”

“Hungry?” I wouldn’t be convinced until I heard the words from Creole’s lips. “I’m fixing frozen waffles.”

“I should’ve gone to The Bakery Café earlier, but I was afraid you’d need me to shoot someone.”

“Maybe next visit I’ll arrange a shootout.” I pulled the chair from under the knob, pushing it back to its normal place.

From the top of the stairs, I saw Fab sitting in the kitchen. “I’m cooking,” I called to her.

“Putting waffles in a toaster is not cooking.” Fab shook her head. “I’ll have coffee.”

Mother hugged Fab and sat next to her. “Make me a cup.”

I shook my finger at them. “No talk about you-know-who until after breakfast.”

“Where’s Zach?” Fab asked. “I expected him to come strolling in last night.”

“He and Slice are up in Tallahassee for a couple of days, new account.” Slice was Zach’s right-hand muscle man, just looking at him inspired fear. He stood well over six feet tall, with not an ounce of fat, and an angry scar ran from his forehead to his collarbone.

I set my new ceramic shell coffee mugs on the island. “Brick demanded my appearance in his office this morning to return the Hummer.”

“While you’re gone, I’m moving out.” Fab turned her back and fiddled with the overpriced coffee maker only she knew how to work.

I never entertained the thought of a roommate, but Fab and I pulled off co-habitation without getting on each other’s last nerves. “Fine. Do that and I’ll track you down and drag you back by the hair.”