Swindled in Paradise (11 page)

“I almost forgot the good part—Miss Lauren was more than a VP. She and Balcazar had a torrid affair going on under his wife’s nose. Lauren earned a salary in the low six figures but lived in a five-million-dollar waterfront penthouse bought by the partnership, and the deed was in her name.”

“That’s a nice piece of real estate for a mistress. Did Mrs. Balcazar know of her husband’s activities?” I asked. It wouldn’t be the first time a wife decided to end the affair permanently.

“I’m working on that. Interesting tidbit about Tina Balcazar. She owns her own property management company in the same building as her husband’s corporation; it’s ranked in the top five in Miami Beach. In addition to managing her husband’s properties, she has accounts of her own. One of her employees called her snooty, but they were confident in saying there were no shady business dealings.”

“Why isn’t Patino Balcazar a suspect?” Fab dumped the remaining contents of the margarita pitcher over the banister, giving me a satisfied smile. If only I’d been a tad quicker
.

“Like your boyfriend, Balcazar may have an alibi. He had a business meeting that went late; so far only one has verified his attendance, haven’t been able to reach the rest of the attendees,” Phil told her. “My source uncovered this tidbit, though: it was Balcazar who fingered Didier and suggested that the cops check him out. He told them that Didier and Lauren were having an affair.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Fab scowled. “Trust me, I’m not a woman who’d be the last to know if her lover was cheating on her.”

I smiled at her and mentally agreed. We wouldn’t be sitting here talking about Didier murdering anyone, he’d already be dead.

“For an extra fee, you can add an upgrade: Lauren’s residence and office can both be tossed.” Phil scribbled circles on her notepad.

Fab cut in. “You know that’s my job,” she grumped.

I shook my head, surprised by Phil’s offer. I wasn’t sure which one of the dozen nosy questions I had on the tip of my tongue I should ask first. Before I could ask, Phil went on without waiting for an answer to her offer.

“This is what I’ve pieced together about the business so far. Balcazar assembled a group of rich, well-connected, crony friends to form a corporation for real estate deals, and in the beginning, everyone made money. They were set up to buy condo developments from financially distressed developers who were one step away from bankruptcy. A buyout price was negotiated, and before the deal closed, they would inflate the sales price, find a different buyer, and do a reassignment. Their names never showed up on the title. They had vendors in their pockets that they used at every step, so the numbers always worked out right.”

“So the bank thinks they’re dealing with Balcazar, and they’re unaware of who the real buyer is. Well, that’s legal,” I said. “On the closing date, they just schedule a double escrow, with the seller none the wiser. The rest is fraud. I’d be livid to find out after the fact about the inflated numbers. The buyer’s already overpaying from a phony appraisal. Add in the cost of construction, and they’d be lucky to break even. More like financial ruin.” It surprised me that Balcazar wasn’t the one found dead.

“Anyone lose their shirt?” Fab asked.

“Just so happens that the previous owner of the building you folks are under contract to buy found out rather quickly that he was in the hole and tried to unload. Balcazar, being the benevolent businessman, stepped in and negotiated with his lender for pennies on the dollar.”

This wasn’t the time to do a little dance that our deal hadn’t been signed and delivered.

“Where is this slimy group now?” Fab asked.

“The other officers got a tip-off that their business model was about to be investigated by state regulators. Some resigned, and others disappeared. Rumor has it that the bank accounts no longer have the healthy balances they once did.”

“It’s business practices like these that led to Miami-Dade County getting the reputation of fraud capital of the country. Though I’m not sure if they still retain that distinguished title,” I said.

Fab’s special ring for Didier sounded. She looked at her phone. “He’s home.” She smiled.

“Go ahead and go. I’ll get a ride. That will give you two some alone time.” I breathed out a heavy sigh, certain that Fab could get her relationship back on track.

She frowned at me.

“I’ll give her a ride,” Phil offered.

Fab shook her finger at me. “You are forbidden to have any fun when I’m not around. Got it?”

“I would never do that, now go.” I pointed to the door.

Chapter 15

The bar had filled up with locals who’d just gotten off work and needed a cool one before heading home. One man beat another in a game of pool, slapping his friend on the back and making a scene that, after a first glance, everyone sitting nearby ignored in favor of going back to their beverages.

“You whore bastard,” screamed a female voice.

I turned in time to see a short, rotund woman fist the shirt of a man seated at the bar and drag him backwards off his stool into a heap on the floor. The barstool tipped over and banged him in the head.

She kicked the stool out of the way, sending it flying, then jumped on him, pummeling and kicking, a string of foul words, mostly having to do with his parentage, tumbling out of her mouth.

“It doesn’t look like she’s going to stop beating on him anytime soon. We should break it up.” Phil stood, pulling on my arm. “If I’m getting dirty, so are you.”

I credited the man for trying to roll out from under his attacker, but when she clocked him on the side of the head with her fist, he stopped his struggle and covered his face with both hands.

“Dirty doesn’t work for me.” I grabbed a full pitcher of water off a side table. “If drenching her doesn’t work, we put a bullet in her ass.”

A dozen steps later, I upended the pitcher and jumped back. She came up screeching, water running down the sides of her face, some puddling between her massive boobs. She jumped up, fists raised.

I didn’t hesitate, and drew my Glock. “Don’t make me shoot you. Get a grip, or you’re going to jail.” I motioned for her to sit.

Phil grabbed the back of the man’s collar. Two men bolted off their barstools, grabbed his arms, and pulled him around the side of the bar.

“You don’t understand.” She backhanded the water from her face. “That whore dog is my husband, and he parks his dick in any vacant space he can find!” she screamed. “Do I ever say no, Hunter? Don’t I always say yes to every unnatural sex act you suggest?”

I looked down the bar; no one had a response for her. “Sit your ass back down until you can stop with all the noise. You’re giving me a headache and that makes me trigger happy.” I leveled my fiercest glare at her.

Phil had disappeared momentarily through the front door; she returned and said, “Hunter’s gone. A friend took him home.”

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye as the woman on the floor launched herself on another woman, who was either making her way to the bathroom or sneaking out the back door. Mrs. Hunter, or whatever her name was, grabbed a fistful of the woman’s long brown hair and whipped her around, getting a kick off every few steps. “Bitch.” She spit in her face. She couldn’t be more than five feet tall, yet she hurled the other woman back and forth. Under her ugly flowered shift, I suspected she was all muscle.

“Your turn.” I poked Phil. “I can’t get hurt; I’m the boss.”

“Watch and learn.” Phil pointed at three of her regulars, who hadn’t relinquished their ring side seats.

The three of them lifted their beer mugs in unison, saluted one another, and tossed it all over the scrabbling women.

Mrs. Hunter fell back on her butt again, and the other woman, realizing she was free, raced down the hall for the back door. Mrs. Hunter jumped straight up and took one step after the fleeing woman, but Phil grabbed her dress and dumped her back on the floor.

The woman let out a loud humph.

“If you get up before I give you permission, I’ll call the sheriff myself,” Phil barked.

At that moment, Kevin strutted in the front door. He was decked out in his uniform, which meant someone had already placed a 911 call. The hooting and hollering came to a halt, and the bar went silent.

Just great,
I thought.
A few more minutes, and we could have sent the woman home to beat on her husband.

“Got a bar fight call. Did I miss the fun?” Kevin’s eyes searched every corner of the room.

The patrons turned back to their drinks. There were a few who wouldn’t want to get into a friendly chat with law enforcement and risk having a warrant or two uncovered.

“Nothing to see here.” I flashed my patient smile. “A few words were exchanged, but it all worked out. The parties involved left.”

Kevin’s eyes settled on the woman on the floor. He crossed over to her and helped her to her feet. “Ash, you okay?” He enveloped her in a hug, not seeming the least worried about getting his uniform soaked in beer. “What’s Hunter done now?”

Ash pressed her face into his chest and collapsed into his arms in a sobbing mess. Kevin led her to a table in the corner. Pulling out a chair, he settled her in his lap, stroked her hair, and whispered something in her ear.

Phil nudged me. “What’s that all about?” she whispered.

“I’m disappointed that you don’t have the answer for me.” The noise level rose when a man filled the jukebox with quarters. “I want to go home, but I’ll wait until Kevin leaves.”

I had never experienced the compassionate side of Kevin. He had a new girlfriend every time I ran into him on his days off. They tended to look alike: tanned, blond, and well-endowed. The only one I met had been a stripper. Mrs. Hunter was none of those things, and quite frankly didn't look his type. I wondered why he cared.

“Buy you another drink?” Phil looped her arm through mine, and we went back outside.

“I’ll stick with water on the off-chance a totally hot guy sneaks into my bed. I don’t want to sleep through the whole thing.”

“The occasional bar fight is good for business. We’ll be standing-room only for the next few days.”

I scrunched up my nose, took a breath, and asked her something I’d been wondering about. “What do you know about Creole?”

There was a long pause as Phil stared at me before finally answering, “I know he’s undercover, and one of the good guys, and the hot guy you were talking about.”

I was a little shocked that she knew he was a cop and not sure what to say.

“As close as you two are, I can’t imagine I’ve said anything you didn’t know.” She looked at me for confirmation. “I’m the best secret-keeper you’ll ever meet. I was the only one of my friends growing up that never ratted anyone out. Although I got the tables turned on me a few times.”

“Did you get sweet revenge?” I felt certain that she would never out Creole’s undercover status.

“I learned early on that revenge isn’t so sweet,” she said with a touch of sadness. “Now I just end the friendship and never look back.”

“That’s adult of you. The only one I trusted growing up was my brother, and if he ever told on me, he knew I’d put bugs in his bed. Or worse.”

“I can’t see you collecting bugs.” Phil laughed.

“Good call,” I chuckled. “I would have had to buy them, and even then, I’m not sure I’d have touched the container.”

The dish washer delivered our drinks. I glanced at the bar. All the seats were filled and so were half the tables. Word must have spread faster than usual. I peeked around the corner and saw Kevin still administering affection.

“Why did you ask about Creole? Do you need me to dig around in his background?” Phil clinked the edge of my glass with hers.

I thought about him finding out I’d had him investigated, and his probable reaction made me squirm in my chair. He’d be livid. “He’s looking for an information procurer. His street snitches have been totally unreliable of late.”

Phil’s eyebrows rose. “Can the department afford my rates?”

“Haggle with him, make him feel like he’s getting a deal. It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other, so you don’t have to factor that into your decision. Think about it, and if you’re interested, let him know next time he comes in.”

“I’m surprised he doesn’t know about me already.”

“You’re not the only one that can keep a secret. I know it irks Creole that I get better info than him. We both know how unreliable snitches can be, and their working hours are sporadic at best. Just so you know, I’m sharing all the Didier information I get with him.”

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about my info procurement business.” The worried look on Phil’s face made me groan inside. I hoped the next words out of her mouth weren’t going to be “I’m closing up shop,” or worse, that she was giving her notice. “My business has picked up, and I recently got several clients. I’d like to run the business out of the bar. I could afford to quit and work from home, but I don’t want to because then I’d just go to school and never socialize with anyone.”

“How would that work? Anything illegal?” The last thing I wanted was to give local law enforcement a reason to shut me down.

“Oh hell no. Nothing illegal. I just need a place to meet clients; I refuse to have them come to my home. I don’t give out my address to anyone, and it’s not always convenient to go to them. This would be a low-key operation; I would book all my appointments before the bar opens. Most of my business can be handled at a table out here on the deck, but I’d like the option of reserving the private room. I’d prefer a monthly rate instead of the percentage your mother pays.”

“Or we can swap services,” I said.

“I was hoping you’d suggest that. I can promise you I won’t invite trouble, but that doesn’t mean it won’t show up—like those two situations earlier. I did consider shooting the two guys, but they didn’t take their obnoxious act far enough.”

“You’re a Fab in the making, and that scares me.”

“Will you think about it and let me know?”

“No,” I said evenly. “I’ve made up my mind. You can open for business tomorrow. If you need the poker room, reserve it with Mother. Tip for dealing with her—take her into your confidence and share whatever details you can. She’s the queen of secret-keeping and will eat up the attention. Another perk—she’ll always have your back.”