I lagged behind and made a call. “You busy tonight?” I asked when the call connected.
“What’s up?”
“My mother is tossing a family dinner, and I’m setting you up as my brother’s date.”
From the laughter that rolled through the phone, I knew she was amused by the idea. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m in.”
“It’s set for six, so wait at least fifteen minutes before knocking.”
She laughed and hung up.
Fab had left the door open, and I walked in and glanced around, then walked down the long hallway to my bedroom. All the doors I passed were closed; Fab had told me they hadn’t started to decorate those rooms yet. Fab and Mila lay in the middle of the big bed. I kicked off my shoes and sat on the side, then rolled over and over, meeting them in the middle.
“I’ll be back.” Fab got up and disappeared into the hall.
I curled up against Mila and was soon fast asleep. I didn’t wake up until I heard Fab reading out loud about Goldilocks being a thief, having stolen the bears’ cookies, and how they weren’t happy with Locks. I rolled over and peered out from under my lashes. “You’re not going to get away with your plot recreation for much longer.”
Fab ignored me and added voices to the characters, which Mila mimicked.
“I’m going to go home and shower and change, then come back and get you two,” I said.
“You can do that here. There’s clothes for both you and Mila in the closet.”
“I’m going to repay you one of these days and go shopping for you.” I tried to swallow the laughter.
“Oh, please don’t. You’d pick out something really ugly just to watch me struggle to say, ‘How cute.’” Fab pointed me to the bathroom. “I’ll get Mila and myself ready.” She rolled Mila down the bed.
I watched the two of them skip out of the room hand in hand.
* * *
The three of us rode the elevator up to Mother’s condo on the third floor, Mila twirling in front of the mirror, dressed in a white net skirt, pink sleeveless top, and sparkly sandals. I copied her and whirled around in my short-sleeved black t-shirt dress, which I’d found in the closet. Fab had also hung a bag of silver necklaces and a matching bracelet over the hangar and left black slip-on sandals on the floor. For herself, she’d chosen a black tunic dress and paired it with gold jewelry.
We got out, and Mila raced to the door and knocked.
Spoon opened the door with a slightly disgruntled look that disappeared as soon as he spotted Mila. He scooped her up and swung her around in a circle while she squealed before setting her back on the floor. “You’re cutting it close.”
“We’re here,” I said.
Fab and I followed him inside.
Mother waved from the far end of the living room, appearing happy to see us, which had me sighing with relief.
“Liam couldn’t be here tonight; he’s got a paper due tomorrow,” Mother said. “I overnighted him a big box of cookies.”
“He’s going to love that,” I said.
Brad stepped out of the kitchen and held out his arms to Mila, who was happy to see her dad. He hoisted her up and gave her loud kisses and tickled her. “Kidnapping?”
I gave him a disgruntled look. “It’s called possession and comes with rights under the law. Besides, I wasn’t in the mood to relinquish my niece, and I’ve been a good sport about all the times my plans were railroaded.”
“Yes, you have.” Brad enveloped me in a three-way hug.
I heard the voices of Creole and Didier coming from the kitchen, where they’d been commandeered to lend their cooking talents. Ever since Mother married Spoon, he did most of the cooking, and she rarely dragged out the to-go menus. All the men in the family were good cooks.
“So what did the three of you do today?” Mother leaned over and kissed Mila.
“After the liquor store robbery, there was that shoot-out on the Overseas, and then we needed a nap,” I said.
A hush fell over the room.
Creole poked his head out of the kitchen to roll his eyes. Behind him, Didier smirked.
“Really! That was what you came up with?” Brad said.
“It was the best I could do at the last minute. Should’ve prepared.”
The doorbell rang.
I waved my arms. “Let me get that. I have a surprise.” I started toward the door, then paused and turned. “Would anyone like a hint?”
Everyone in the room groaned, except Fab, who stared accusingly since I hadn’t shared.
I cupped my hands around my mouth and whispered, “I fixed Brad up.” I winked at him.
“I’m going to…” Brad started forward.
“No language or threats.” I shook my finger. “Mila in the house,” I said with a shocked face, rushing to the door.
“Have you lost your mind?” Brad asked, now right behind me. “What about Emerson?”
“I don’t see her, do you?”
I opened the door before the woman on the other side could think I wasn’t going to answer and poked my head out. “You’re going to be a big surprise.” I pushed it wider to let her in.
It took a minute for Brad to pull himself together. A big grin lit up his face, and he took a couple of steps in Emerson’s direction but was cut off.
“Em,” Mila yelled and ran down the hall.
Emerson picked her up and swung her around, whispering something in her ear. Brad caught them both up in a hug.
I’d shut the door and snuck around them. Creole came out of the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me. “That was nice of you.”
“I thought inviting Emerson would make Brad happy, and it would give him a kick to include her more, since she fits in so well.”
“Your mother said earlier that she’d learned a new trick from you today but didn’t say what it was. I’ll admit it made me nervous.”
I looked around his shoulder. “I’ll have to keep an eye on her.”
* * *
After dinner, everyone gathered back in the living room. Fab, Emerson, and I cleared away the dishes and stacked them in the dishwasher. Fab, as usual, reveled in telling the two of us what to do.
“I’m happy that you’re a good sport and came to dinner,” I said to Emerson.
“It wasn’t the least bit awkward, and I’ll admit, I did worry that it would be. Brad was happy that I came.” She smiled.
Once we finished in the kitchen, we joined the others in the living room.
“Did you learn anything today?” Mother asked Mila, who sat next to her on Brad’s lap.
Mila gave her a big smile and imitated coughing up a hairball.
All eyes turned to me.
My cheeks flamed. “Good job.” I clapped.
Brad looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
I cut him off, certain that whatever he was about to say, I wouldn’t like. “Okay Pot—or Kettle, since we never could decide who was who—we stopped at Jake’s today because there was activity outside the roach coach and I wanted to find out what was happening.” The whole time, I leveled the evil eye at Brad.
“You couldn’t just call your tenant?” Mother asked.
“Anyway…it took all of a minute to get my answer, and since it was lunchtime, Fab asked Mila what she wanted for lunch, never in a million years expecting her to point to Jake’s and request ticos.” I squinted at Mother’s snort. I’d have to have a talk with her later; if I wasn’t allowed to make unladylike noises, then neither was she. “And who else does she want to see? U-Hen. I’ve owned that dive for how long? Even I don’t get to call Cook by his first name. Which is Henry!”
“U-Hen?” Mila looked at the front door.
“He’s not here.” I smiled at Mila. “Maybe next time. We’ll remind Gammi to invite him.” That appeased Mila, and she debuted the whistling noise that U-Hen taught her earlier. “The best part was, Hen scooped her up in his arms and they danced around the kitchen, him talking to her in Spanish
and her hanging on his every word, nodding in total agreement.”
“You left out the part where Mila didn’t even have to place an order,” Fab reminded me. “Her taco and rice lunch magically appeared. Sorry, ticos. Old Hen pulled out a kid’s table and an extra chair and yacked it up while she ate.”
“Don’t go all high and mighty on me, brother dear, about being a bad influence.”
“It’s a good trait to have the ability to talk to anyone,” Emerson said.
I winked at her.
“Who does that remind you of?” Brad snarked.
Once again, all eyes stared me down.
Tired of being the center of attention, I asked Spoon, “How is the Kid working out?”
“His name is Xander Huntington, of the Huntington Industries family.”
Creole whistled. “What’s he doing living on the street?”
“How about why is he a thief?” Didier asked.
“That’s a sad story and included in the background report I had him run on himself,” Spoon said. “I had him working in the garage doing grunt work, which he hated. He complained that it smelled, it was this or that, and was rapidly becoming a pain. Second day, he stomped into the office when I was swearing at the computer—thing has a mind of its own—looked over my shoulder, and his exact words were, ‘Dude, you’re way behind the times. Get up. I can fix the problem.’ And he did.”
“When he was done, did it work or go into complete melt down?” Fab asked.
“So far, so good. Xander offered to bring all my records up to date, and I wasn’t about to turn him down. Billy had told me he was smart, and I figured he meant smart a-s-s. That’s when I suggested the background check and told him if he did a good job; he could have a job as my secretary. I have a copy for you.” Spoon got up and retrieved his briefcase off the floor, reaching inside and handing me the report. “Check it out for yourself. He’s about done with project ‘bring Spoon out of the dark ages’ and needs a much better place to put his talents to work. I think it’s worth helping him find his footing.”
Mother came over and sat on the arm of Spoon’s chair. “It’s sweet of you to take an interest in this young man.” She kissed the top of his head.
“Totally agree with Mother.” I slid the report in my purse and leaned my head sideways against Creole’s shoulder. “Didier, did Lucas Mark end up renting space from you?”
“He came by and checked out the area, but it wasn’t up to his standards,” Didier said. “Told him that if he was looking for a chrome-and-glass high-rise, he’d need to go up to Miami.”
“What did you think of him?” Creole asked.
“If you’re thinking he’s going to represent Madison’s special clients, he’s not,” Didier said. “He went out of his way to impress me with his credentials, which are impressive.”
“Madison and Fab don’t need him when they have me.” Emerson smiled devilishly. “I’ve already volunteered to find them an attorney when needed.”
“Oh, no you’re not,” Brad growled.
Emerson patted his arm and beamed at him. Whatever code talk the two were engaged in, my brother calmed considerably.
My phone rang, which had me whooshing out a breath of relief, hoping that the right interruption would change the direction of the conversation. Seeing Mac’s face, I tried to stand, but Creole tightened his hold.
“Turn that thing off,” Mother said.
“Right after I answer,” I said and pushed away from Creole. “Hello,” I whispered, heading to the patio.
“No one got hurt,” Mac said in a frantic tone.
“Okay,” I said noncommittally, knowing I was being listened to.
“Kevin was home, and his friends in uniform just left.”
“Can you get to the good part?”
“Someone unloaded a firearm into Joseph’s door. If you’d like me to speculate, I’m thinking Dilly is tired of waiting on his money.”
“And Joseph?”
“He moved out to the pool.” Mac whooshed out a sigh. “To sleep anyway. Pushed a couple of chaises together behind the bar. You don’t even know he’s out there unless he starts snoring.”
“I’m on my way. By the time I get there, I expect Joseph to be relocated. Crum’s would be a good option,” I said.
“No need to come until tomorrow. It’s quiet here now. You can see the bullet holes better in the daylight.”
After promising to come the next morning and hanging up, I slipped back inside and sat next to Creole, and once again, all eyes turned to me. “The Cottages were shot up, but all is quiet now.”
“Really, Madison,” Mother scolded. “She likes to be shocking,” she explained to Emerson.
Me? I pointed to myself. Fab laughed.
Spoon’s eyebrows had shot up. I nodded slightly, and his smile turned to a grim line.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I had gotten up early, having decided it was my turn to surprise Fab with coffee, but I didn’t make it out of the house until after Creole left. I headed to her house, crossing paths with Didier on his way out the door. Everyone had had a late start that day.
“What are you doing?” Fab asked, walking into the kitchen. “You know I can see you on the security monitor in the bedroom.”
“Good thing I held off on ransacking your cupboards.” I plugged in the coffee pot, saying a silent prayer that I’d got the concoction right.
“So what was that Cottages call last night really about?” Fab set two mugs on the counter.
“Do you have to know everything?” At her half-laugh, I relayed the details I’d gotten from Mac and added that I’d called her on the way home and there had been no more action at the property.
You’d think such activity would put the property on the list of rentals to avoid, but it didn’t. We always had folks clamoring to get a reservation, and when news of the gunfire got around, the phone would be ringing off the hook.
“I thought Spoon was going to intervene, broker some kind of deal.”
“Creole had me call Spoon this morning with an update and to let him know that he needed to speed up his intervention before someone got killed, which might be me if I keep involving Spoon and Mother finds out. He assured me he was already on it and would call with any news.” I filled the mugs, picking them up and carrying them outside to the patio. It was time to christen the chaises by her pool and enjoy the view of the sun glistening on the water. “So beautiful out here.” I sat back in the chaise.
“Didier asked about our plans for the day, and I told him we were meeting Dr. A to share what we found out about Nicolette. He wasn’t happy, agreeing with Creole that we need to stay far away.”
“Creole wanted me to call him instead. I had to remind him that Dr. A was a friend and it would be my last visit.” I didn’t tell her that he’d offered to come along and I assured him that it would be short and I’d call him as soon as we left.
“Follow the case in the news?” Fab mused. “Maybe we’ll get some of our questions answered that way. The last thing you want is to find yourself in the middle of the case, which would make your boyfriend unhappy.”
“You’re right.” I smiled weakly. “What’s on your schedule? I’m thinking you need a billboard featuring your lovely mug, and the calls will pour in for your PI services.”
Fab threw her head back and laughed. “I can imagine the kinds of calls that would come in. Probably not a single lost-cat case,” she teased. “Didier objects to most of the cases I get already, especially the ones where they think it’s a great idea to frame me for a felony.”
“Speaking of…any update on Mott? Jail perhaps?”
“I’m staying far away from that mess.”
I fished my ringing phone out of my pocket. “Emerson,” I said, looking at the screen, then answered, pressing speakerphone.
“The court hearing didn’t go as planned.” A loud sigh came through the phone. “Mr. Bardwell, aka Butthead, got on the stand and testified that Jos
eph had sent goons to ambush him outside his job and threaten him to drop the case or he’d be killed.”
“That’s horrible.”
Fab covered her mouth and laughed.
“Thankfully, Butthead had zero proof. His first description was sketchy. When he blurted out that two women were the attackers and someone in the courtroom laughed, he changed it to men. You wouldn’t know two women who would scare the holy-moly out of him, would you?”
“He did change it to men,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, right. Only because he didn’t want to come off as a pussy.”
“Did you just use the ‘p’ word?”
“You just morphed into your mother,” Emerson accused, and we both laughed. “The good part is that it gave me the opening I needed to question Butthead about his side job working for a loan shark.” She laughed evilly. “The color drained from his face when I brought up Dilwen’s name. The prosecutor jumped up and objected, but at least I got it in.”
“What’s the status of the case?”
“Back on the calendar in two weeks. The hearing got cut short when Joseph clutched his chest and went into a swoon. The judge stared for the longest time before ordering the paramedics called; probably, like me, he wondered if the old goat was faking.”
“Joseph okay?”
“He’s in the back of my car…snoring. Can’t you hear him?” Emerson asked, annoyance tingeing her voice. “Paramedics rolled him out to the curb and he refused a ride to the hospital. I stepped up because I’d brought him after he whined about having to take the bus.”
“I so owe you. Better me than Joseph; he won’t come through.”
Fab shook her head.
“I’m driving a hard bargain and using my favor for something more than a free meal at Jake’s.”
“My brother’s been coaching you,” I accused in an amused tone.
“Once Brad got over his annoyance at my offer of help, he gave me some handy tips. I’ll have to thank him later,” Emerson said. “I did speak to the prosecutor, and she’s still insistent on jail time, since Joseph’s a serial nuisance.”
“I suppose that means it would probably be a good idea if Joseph doesn’t disappear.”
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