Swindled in Paradise (13 page)

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Authors: Deborah Brown

BOOK: Swindled in Paradise
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“You.” Fab looked at the man and motioned with the muzzle of the gun. “Hands up. Either one of you moves, I’ll shoot one and then the other. If I miss, my friend here is an excellent shot.”

I felt sorry for the frightened couple. The woman started bawling, gasping for breath, and the man looked on the verge of barfing up the contents of his stomach. I’d guess them to be in their mid-thirties and pegged them as homeless. I hadn’t spotted any signs of criminal behavior.

Fab skirted the aisle, walking between the casket displays from front to back. She lingered at the back a little too long for my nerves, then shook her head and gave me the thumbs up.

“You two are trespassing,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“We didn’t steal nuttin,” the scraggly blonde blurted.

“Shush, Mandy,” her partner hissed. “We don’t want no trouble. We’ll just go.”

Fab and I exchanged a look that translated into “what now?”

“I don’t think so.” Fab returned to the front and waved her Walther at the two.

“Put your hands down,” I said gruffly. “Don’t do anything stupid. Now start talking––tell us what you’re doing here.” I looked at Fab and she nodded.

Mandy made keening noises and laid her head on the man’s chest. He petted her head like she was a dog.

“Start with your name,” Fab barked.

“Charlie P-P-Panker,” the man stuttered. “We needed a comfortable place to stay for a few nights.”

Fab gave Charlie her mean stare and said, “You two are living here?”

Thank goodness one of us had people skills
.

“We…uh…” He shifted around on the floor. “…only used the one coffin. Both of us fit in real good.”

I took a short breath; it felt like my heart actually skipped a beat. If I were a fainter, this would be where I’d hit the floor
.
“You slept in one of the coffins?” I squirmed. “Why?”

“Don’t call the sheriff,” Charlie implored.

“I don’t like jail,” Mandy wailed, “and we don’t got bail money.”

Charlie squeezed her tighter. “We’re homeless. I lost my job, and I haven’t been able to get another one. If it’s money you want, I can’t pay anything, but I can do odd jobs.”

“What happened to your last job?” I could easily get him a job, but first I’d like to be sure he wasn’t hiding something. Frankly, neither one looked smart enough. But the jails were filled with stupid criminals.

“I cooked at the Pancake Joint and it burned to the ground,” Charlie said.

I’d heard about that and also knew that the owner was under investigation, suspected for the arson. He certainly had motive if the rumors were true—he needed the insurance money to pay off gambling debt to unsavory characters.

Fab moved to the front, propping open the door. “Drugs? Alcoholics?” she asked.

Charlie shook his head. “My wife has asthma.” He looked down at her. “If we went to jail, you could get a new inhaler.”

“Please,” she moaned. “Last time, I had to stand in line at the infirmary, and when I got released, I didn’t get to take it with me.”

“Stop it, you two,” I said, louder than I’d meant to. “You’re not going to jail.” I asked Charlie, “Can you pass a background check?”

“I’ve been arrested for loitering a couple of times. There’s some places folks don’t want you sleeping,” he said. “Most serious was a vandalism charge when I was sixteen.”

“What did you do?” Fab asked.

“Me and two other guys threw toilet paper all over the neighbor’s house and in the trees. The girl’s father didn’t seem to think it was funny when he caught us and turned us over to the cops. The girl spread it all over school, and the kids laughed at what dumbasses we were for the rest of the school year. My friend, who really liked the girl, never looked at her again.”

I smiled, thinking about how many times my girlfriends and I had snuck out in the middle of the night and thrown rolls of toilet paper on a boy’s lawn. That was until my mother found out and made us go clean up the mess. Me, anyway. “Pack up your stuff and clean this place up. It better look like you were never here,” I told them. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Clean up in aisle 5.” Fab laughed at her joke.

My lips quirked as I glared at her.

“I know you want to laugh.” Fab elbowed me.

“You stand guard.” I winked at Fab.

“You’re not going to throw our stuff out, are you?” Mandy wheezed out the last word.

“We’re going to come to a compromise.” I lifted my skirt and reholstered my Glock in my thigh holster.

“That’s what the cops did,” Mandy said sullenly.

Before I stepped outside, Fab leaned in and whispered to me, “We’ll give them some cash and report back that the poachers have left the property.”

The coffin storage room had become claustrophobic and I was never happier to breathe in fresh air. I pulled my phone out of my bra—my go-to pocket when my skirt had none—and called the only person I knew who had extensive experience helping people get their lives back on track.

“Hello stepdaddy,” I said when the call connected.

A deep, growly laugh filled my ear. “Whatever it is you want, the answer is yes.”

“What if I ask you to off someone?”

“You know the answer would be ‘what’s his name?’ I’m putting you on speaker; your mother’s giving me an evil stare.”

“Hi, honey, you in trouble?” she asked.

“Not this time, but I need Spoon’s help.” I told him about Charlie and Mandy.

“You make me proud,” Mother said. “I would’ve given them money and told them not to come back.”

“That was Fabiana’s idea,” I told her. “You two could be related.”

“They were really sleeping in a coffin?” Spoon asked in shock.

“Turns out they’re comfortable. That’s good to know, don’t you think?”

“Really, Madison. No one wants to think about that,” Mother said.

I hoped I would never outgrow inappropriate talk.

“Tell them to wait out front,” Spoon said. “I’ll have Billy come by and pick them up. I can get them an interim place to stay until Charlie finds employment. If he’s a decent cook, I can get him a job. After that, I’ll give them a couple of addresses that won’t demand first and last month’s rent if I vouch for them.”

“You’re the best,” I said.

“You owe me.” Spoon laughed. “And don’t think I’ll forget that. Ouch,” he yelped.

I grinned, knowing Mother had done something painful.

“You need anything else, call.” He clicked off.

Raul and Dickie had the window open and their faces pressed to the screen. I waved and shook my head for them to stay inside. Fab had reholstered her gun, confident that she could take the two of them, even at the same time.

I relayed the happy news to Fab and informed her that she’d be the one to share it with the couple. “It will be good for your people skills.” As hard as I tried, I couldn’t maintain a straight face.

She tugged on my arm. “You’re coming with me.”

“I’m not going back in there.” I stared at the open door. “I’ve had enough of the coffins. What I need is a drink.”

“I’ll go get them,” Fab whispered. “You tell them.” She stuck her head across the threshold and yelled, “Get out here. Time to leave.”

I shook my head.

The young couple shuffled out into the sunshine, fear written on their faces. They were about to get a big break, and I hoped they didn’t squander it.

“Your ride will be here in a few. My friend, Spoon, has arranged for a place for you to stay and has a possible lead on a job.”

“Jimmy Spoon?” Mandy shrieked. “He hurts people.”

“Breathe deep,” I mumbled to myself. “You have nothing to worry about if you take this opportunity and make the most of it. If it’s something you’re not interested in, say so. I’ll give you a few dollars, and you can be on your way.”

Charlie leaned down and whispered something to his wife. Instead of a reply, she buried her head in his chest. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything. You won’t be sorry. Once I get a cooking job, you come in, and I’ll make you something special.”

“There’s one more thing.” Fab glowered at the duo. “Don’t come back here unless you need funeral services—that you can pay for.”

“Your ride is here.” I motioned for them to follow me.

Billy, one of Spoon’s long-time employees, jumped out of his pickup truck. He opened the back door, and before they got in, I made the introductions.

I whispered to Billy, “Free meal at Jake’s, anytime. Just tell the bartender.”

He half-laughed. “Stay out of trouble.”

I ran to catch up with Fab. We barreled back into the funeral home, and I plunked myself in the chair reserved for me, leaning back as she explained the situation, hoping she had fast exit plans. I liked the guys but the funeral home gave me the creeps.

“Are you collecting busts now?” Fab ran her hand over one bust’s head. “New art collection? They look hand-sculpted.”

“That’s our newest service,” Raul boasted. “You give us a picture of your loved one, and we commission the urn in the deceased’s image. Dates back to the Egyptian pharaohs. This way, you can have the statue as an art piece to put on display.”

Fab jerked her hand back. “There’s a dead person in here?”

“They’re just for display. Our clients prefer to see their choices up close. A catalog is so impersonal.”

“I don’t care for cremation,” Dickie said, frowning at the urns. Everyone knew he felt cheated when he didn’t get to give the deceased the sendoff he felt they deserved. He prided himself on his attention to detail.

Fab lifted the head off the brightly painted ceramic one and peered inside. She tipped it my way so I could see.

“We cremate the loved one, store the ashes until the urn arrives, and then present it to the client. We’re thinking of a very short handing-over ceremony to mark the moment as a pleasant memory,” Raul said.

I waited until both men were distracted by something and glared at Fab, jerking my head towards the door.

“We’ve got another appointment,” Fab said as she slipped over to Raul and hugged him. “I’ll send over a friend to install a security system on the garage. Locked doors aren’t enough. I’ll come back once it’s installed and check it out.”

 

Chapter 18

It was the perfect afternoon to lie back on an inflated chair sipping a margarita. The blue sky overhead was filled with fluffy white clouds, but in the distance, grey clouds were getting darker by the minute. Hopefully, the impending storm would veer west and stay out in the Gulf.

I paddled to the side of the pool. “I deserve this after a long day at the funeral home,” I said, setting down my glass.

“Two hours.” Fab stood over me, holding up her fingers. “Shortest job we’ve ever had.”

I swept my arm through the water and sent a blast of water her way. She jumped back, but not before it soaked her shorts.

She kicked off her obscenely high wedge sandals and sat on the side, sticking her feet in the water and shaking her finger at me. “Remember the rules, no drinking and floating.”

“Once I’ve sucked the rest of this one down, I’ll get my drunk on inside, on the couch.”

“We need to talk before you get all happy and loud.” She looked over her shoulder.

We had the house to ourselves. Didier had an appointment, and Creole had promised he’d sneak into my bed later. He never discussed the details of his assignments, but stayed in touch mostly by random texts so I wouldn’t worry.

“I’ve got a couple of appointments tomorrow, and I’ll be gone all day,” Fab announced.

My heart sped up; I knew this could be big trouble. “Who? What? Where?” I planned to push the issue and not let her out of my sight.

Fab skimmed her hand along the surface of the water, blasting me with water and reveling in the payback. “You know damn well I have my own company, or have you forgotten about FM Associates? I get the occasional client that doesn’t want me teaming up.”

“Is that the same business I’m a supposed partner in? If you think you’re going to sneak something by me and then call from jail, forget it. Spit it out.” I paddled over to the steps.

Fab stood up and dragged a chaise over to the poolside. “Just a little corporate espionage. In, plant a bug, then out. First, I’m meeting with the client to get the details.”

“The first trick to selling a lie is to not look down.” I wrapped myself in a towel and sat down next to her. “It would have been slightly less hurtful if you’d said, ‘None of your business.’ I don’t understand why you don’t trust me. Some would say it’s not that big a deal, but funny, I feel differently.”

“Seriously, you know how to heap the guilt on, and it’s not attractive.” She shrugged and met my gaze. “I’m going to commit several felonies, not least breaking and entering, and I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

“You know I have talents other than providing bail money,” I huffed.

Fab banged her head on my shoulder and sighed heavily.

“Oww,” I mouthed, surprised that I managed to stay silent.

“I overheard Creole telling Didier that he’d like to get a look around Lauren’s condo but his boss told him no. It could mean his job if he got caught.”

“Did you happen to
overhear
what it is he’s hoping to find?”

Fab ran her fingers through her long hair. “No,” she said in frustration. “You know that if I even hint at going myself, they’ll both forbid me. Better for them to be upset after the fact.”

How many times had we used that tactic? They still got mad. Then they extracted promises that we wouldn’t sneak around again, which lasted until the next time Fab needed information. “Have you forgotten no matter how many GPS devices you destroy, he just installs another one? I don’t know how closely he monitors it when we’re on the move. Although Lauren’s condo isn’t in a bad neighborhood, so maybe our location will escape his notice.”

I didn’t find the tracking as intrusive as Fab did. I liked that someone always knew where we were. There had been a few times I didn’t think we’d make it out alive.

Fab had plans that Creole would hate written all over her face. “We’ll rent a car.” She looked proud of herself.

“We?” I glared at her.

“I feel a strong-arm tactic coming. A threat of some sort––something involving your mother?” She raised her eyebrows. “Can’t you be gracious?”

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