“For a lot of reasons…” Emerson paused. “You’re not my client, so we shouldn’t talk about felonies in the making.”
“Fab and I could remedy that,” I said hopefully.
“We’ll talk.”
I groaned. “You know, that’s the same as when your mother tells you ‘maybe.’ It isn’t happening.”
“I suspect having you two as clients would at times be highly entertaining,” Emerson said. “We’ll be back in the Cove in a few; we’re at the city limits sign. You need to come to The Cottages. I’m going to need help wrestling Joseph out of the back seat.”
“Don’t bother coming up with an excuse,” I said after hanging up. “You’re coming with me. We’ll get Mac, and if each of us grabs a limb, we can get him inside his cottage.”
“I’m bringing gloves.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
We had great timing, as Emerson’s SUV pulled into the driveway just behind us. Joseph threw open the back door and lurched out, somewhat assisted by Mac, who’d run over. It got awkward when he tried to launch himself into Emerson’s arms, spouting tearful thanks. Fab twisted his shirt, hauled him back, and gave him a gentle shove towards his cottage.
Emerson thanked Fab profusely and jumped back in her car to go make an appointment back at her office. I suspected she’d had enough and couldn’t wait to get away.
Saying our good-byes, Fab and I were right behind Emerson. After turning onto the main highway, we parted ways from her, going in opposite directions.
“You’re doing all the talking,” Fab said, pulling into Dr. A’s driveway next to his car. “I’ll agree with whatever you say.”
“I’m giving Dr. A the straight skinny, and he can deal with it however he wants. I’ll be making it clear that he can’t rely on my help, and I’ll happily blame Creole if necessary. I’m certain he’ll understand when I explain.” I climbed out. “He’s got an excellent lawyer, and that’s what he’s for.”
We walked to the door and rang the doorbell. Nothing. I rang it again.
“That’s weird,” I said. “He’s expecting us.”
“Shall we flip to see who picks the lock?” Not waiting for an answer, Fab reached out and turned the knob. To our surprise, it was unlocked. She pushed the door open.
The living room was a disaster, far worse than when the cops had been through here.
“Dr. A?” Fab bellowed and got no response.
I grabbed her arm as she stepped over the threshold. “Why does this place suddenly give me the creeps?”
“Get your Glock out,” Fab said and pulled her Walther.
I followed her, maneuvering around overturned furniture, artwork lying haphazardly on the floor, and broken glass everywhere. Fab poked her head in the kitchen. Stepping back with a shake of her head, she headed down the hall.
Not sure which of us was the first to see the man’s legs extending out into the hallway from Dr. A’s bedroom. I screamed.
Rushing forward, I gasped at seeing Dr. A, his head down and hands tied behind his back, the belt around his neck hooked around the doorknob.
“I’m calling 911.” Fab went room-to-room with her Walther in one hand, phone in the other. “Is he alive?” she asked, coming back.
I dropped to my knees, placing two fingers on the side of his neck, attempting to find a pulse. “I think so. It’s faint.” I leaned up against his body to give him support, so he wouldn’t suddenly fall one way or the other and unbuckled the belt. Wrapping my arms around his torso, I laid him gently on the floor and turned him on his side, then sat next to him, holding his hand.
Fab relayed the information to the operator.
I gently pushed his blood-drenched hair out of his battered and bruised face. He was barely recognizable, his eyes swollen shut. His shirt was ripped away, his torso discolored and showing signs of bruising.
“Paramedics are on the way,” Fab said.
“Who would do this?” I whispered.
“We definitely don’t want to know the answer to that question.” Fab surveyed the room. “Whoever it was, my guess is that they were looking for something, and they didn’t find it. Another guess would be that Dr. A didn’t have the right answers to their questions.”
“What do I do for him?” I asked.
“Just talk to him. I’m going to go room-to-room before the law gets here. I’m certain we’re alone, but I’m going to triple-check.”
“Be careful,” I said to her retreating back. I looked down at Dr. A. “Open your damn eyes. Now.” I tried for stern and fell short while squeezing Dr. A’s hand and patting it gently. “Help is on the way.” I hoped for a flutter of eyelashes, his fingers moving. Nothing. Not getting a response freaked me out. “Don’t die,” I begged, trying to blink away the tears that were forming. “I’ll be really annoyed with you.”
The minutes ticked by, interminably slow.
“Paramedics pulled up,” Fab yelled. She’d completed her search and was standing at the front door.
Less than a minute later, two men armed with medical bags barreled into the house and down the hall, taking over. They dropped to the floor, and I stood and stepped back and out of the way. When they asked, I told them where and how we’d found him.
Kevin and his partner entered.
“You okay?” Kevin asked. He took me by the arm and led me outside to my SUV.
I nodded, swallowing back tears.
Fab had been pulled away by the other officer and was answering his questions.
“Take a deep breath,” Kevin ordered. “Don’t you dare pass out on me.”
I leaned against the front of the Hummer. “I don’t know what happened. We just…found him… Is he alive?”
“The paramedics will do their best to make sure he’s got a fighting chance.” Kevin patted me awkwardly on the back. “Start at the beginning.”
“Dr. A was expecting us,” I said tearfully. “When we didn’t get an answer…the door was unlocked. His feet…” I went on haltingly to tell him how we found the doctor. “At first, I thought he was dead, then I discovered a faint pulse. I couldn’t leave him attached…” I shuddered.
“I’ll be right back.” He crossed the walkway and met up with the paramedics as they rolled Dr. A out of the house.
The first thing I noticed was that the sheet didn’t cover his face. Good sign. I watched as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance and backed out of the driveway.
Kevin and his partner engaged in a short conversation; then he came back over. “The doctor’s in bad shape, but he’s hanging in there. He’s lucky the two of you stopped by when you did, and you two lucked out that you didn’t arrive earlier or meet anyone on the way out.”
“I’ve got to call his godfather, Doc Rivers.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “He would want to be at the hospital. I’d like to meet him there.” I called his cell and got no answer, then tried Jake’s. When Kelpie answered, I asked, “Is Doc Rivers there today?”
“What, no ‘how’s my favorite employee?’ I’m fine, thank you,” she huffed, sounding more amused than annoyed. “He’s playing cards.”
“I’ll make it up to you. I need a favor. Would you take the phone back to him?”
“Hey Doo, shake it over here,” Kelpie bellowed, followed by laughter from what I assumed were her regulars. I could hear Doodad grumbling and Kelpie teasing him about it.
After a long silence, I heard her say, “Doc, phone for you. It’s Madison.”
“What’s up?” Doc asked.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. “Dr. A… Stan had a mishap and had to be taken to the hospital.”
“Well, hell. That boy can’t catch a break. I’m on my way.” Doc hung up.
Pocketing my phone, I stood and breathed a sigh of relief that I hadn’t had to answer questions I didn’t have answers to.
“Dr. A is in good hands,” Kevin said. His lips formed a grim line. “I know where to find you if I have any questions.”
Fab walked up and stood right behind his shoulder, looking as shaken as I felt.
“Thanks, Kevin,” I said. “I’m happy that you drew the short straw.”
“If you find out anything, pass it along for once!”
I nodded as he turned and went back into the house.
“Take me to the hospital,” I said, sliding into the passenger seat. “I want to be there when Doc Rivers arrives.”
With a last look around the exterior of the property, Fab backed out of the driveway. “I did a quick walkthrough while waiting for the paramedics and checked the previous hiding places, which were undisturbed.” Lost in thought, she didn’t notice when the light turned green until the car behind her honked. “If someone were beating me near to death, I’d have handed over the drugs, money, whatever the assailants wanted…or, at least, tried to. Leads me to believe that Dr. A didn’t know about the drugs.”
“All signs point to the girlfriend being a dealer. Did Dr. A know? I would bet not.” I covered my face with my hands. “Dr. A can’t die; Doc Rivers would be gutted.”
“Being your bestie and all…” I groaned, and she continued, “I called Didier and Creole was there, so I had him hit the speaker. Told them what happened and that, knowing you, we would be headed to the hospital. I promised to call with any update.”
“I’m going to stay at the hospital until Doc arrives.” I turned, staring out the window. “He’ll take charge and make sure his godson gets the best care. I’ve seen him in action, and he’s formidable, retired or not.”
“Don’t forget, no more involvement,” Fab reminded me as she sped across town. “If whoever it was didn’t get what they wanted, Dr. A shouldn’t go back to that house. Even better, he should find another place to live. Did his attackers mean to leave him alive? If not, they won’t be happy that he can ID them.”
Fab turned into the hospital lot and parked. We jumped out and hustled across to the building, entering through the Emergency Room entrance. Knowing that hospital personnel wouldn’t give a non-family member information, I sat in front of the window, staring out at the parking lot full of automobiles where I could see anyone that entered. Fab stood at the window and motioned when Doc Rivers pulled in and parked. Fab and I met him in the driveway.
“What the hell happened?” Doc Rivers rasped as he ran towards the door.
I started to give him a quick rundown as I ran alongside him.
“I’ll take the detailed version.”
We slowed to a fast walk as we entered the hospital, bypassing the check-in desk and heading down the hallway leading to the patient rooms. I’d just finished telling him everything when he came to a halt in front of the nurse’s station. One of the nurses came over, and they engaged in a conversation so full of medical jargon I couldn’t understand a word.
He turned and enveloped me in a hug. “You go home and have a stiff one, soak up what’s left of this sunny day. I’ve got this from here, and I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.” He hugged me harder. “Thank goodness for you two.” He walked over to Fab, who’d followed us, and drew her into his arms for a hug.
Then he disappeared into a room across the hallway. Before the door closed, I saw that Dr. A had been hooked up to machinery, with a doctor and nurse in attendance.
I turned to Fab with a sad smile. “Thank you for not kicking Doc to the ground for hugging you.”
“There are times when I surprise myself.” Fab put her hands on my shoulders and turned me around. “Let’s get out of here.”
We retraced our steps back to the waiting room and out the door. She nudged me and pointed as Creole drove in and parked to one side of the entrance. Didier hopped out, waved, and crossed over to us.
He kissed Fab, then escorted me to the truck and helped me inside. “Dinner at our house,” he said before closing the door. Whatever he said to Fab, she laughed and ran in the opposite direction. He easily caught her and twirled her into a hug.
Creole leaned across the seat, and our lips met halfway. “Your friend is in good hands,” he reassured me.
My phone rang, and Creole groaned as I fished it out of my pocket. “Now what?”
I held up the screen, showing Spoon’s face. “You got good news for me?” I asked upon answering. “I’m putting you on speaker; Creole is driving.”
Spoon grunted, which I interrupted as consent for Creole to listen in.
“Good news. Sort of.” Spoon half-laughed. “Dilly wasn’t the one responsible for the bullets in Joseph’s door. It was Bardwell, or as you call him, Butthead. Getting ahead of himself, thinking he’s the boss and trying to scare the cash out of Joseph.”
“Wait until I get my hands on him.”
“There’s more…” Spoon huffed. “Dilly seems to think it was Butthead that set Joseph up to be robbed, and he promised it wouldn’t happen again. He was adamant that Joseph, Crum, and Butthead were off the payroll—they’ve been sacked. He called the trio bad for business.”
“Reassure me that you kept Madison’s name out of your conversation with that criminal,” Creole grouched.
“What do you think?” Spoon shot back in disgust. “I said the property was family-owned, hence the friendly phone call, because if I had to deal with it, he’d be out an employee. He thanked me for the call and said, to quote him, ‘That kind of shit is bad for business.’”
“I so owe you.”
“I’ll add it to my growing list,” Spoon joked. “It took very little effort to get Dilly to put an end to the drama. He knows his cars wouldn’t be accepted for repair work in the future if he didn’t.”
“You’re the best.” I winked at Creole, who rolled his eyes.
“You might not think so in a minute, as I’m going to collect on one of those favors now. Your mother is up to something.” He unleashed a growly laugh. “If you could ferret out what the heck it is and tip me off, we’d be even.”
“Not a peep so far. I hope she’s not ambushing me with another date.”
Creole mumbled something unintelligible.
I blew him a kiss, then went back to my call. “There’s something you should know.” I gave him the quick version of what happened to Dr. A., happy that Creole was sitting next to me and I wouldn’t have to repeat the events of the day again.
“Don’t like that story. You be damn careful.”
I hung up and leaned my head against Creole’s shoulder. “I’m hoping this dinner includes alcohol.”
“Barbequed hamburgers and beer.” Creole grinned.
“I love you.” I brushed a kiss on his cheek. “It’s probably the last time I’ll get to say it because when Fab gets her hands on you, you’re a dead man.”
He laughed. “Wasn’t my idea.”
“If I were Didier, I’d totally blame you.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
After a dinner where Fab and I were mostly silent and picked at our food, the guys broke up the party early and Creole put me to bed.
The next morning, I opened my eyes to find Creole staring back at me, sunshine streaming through the windows, his face just inches away.
“Don’t go anywhere.” He brushed his stubble against my cheeks. “I’ll be right back with coffee.”
My eyes followed him as he got out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off a chair and pulling them on.
I reached for my phone and hit the redial button for Tarpon Hospital. I’d called last night after dinner to check on Dr. A, pretending to be his sister, and found out that he’d come out of surgery and was stable. The last thing I wanted to do was intrude until he was ready for visitors, so I again asked for the nurse’s station and inquired after Dr. Ardzruniannos.
After putting me on hold, the nurse came back and informed me, “I’m sorry, we don’t have a patient here by that name.”
“He died,” I gasped.
“I didn’t mean to imply… He was released last night.”
“You’re certain?”
“That’s all the i
nformation I can give you.” She hung up.
I stared at the phone as though it might have an answer as to how a man in Dr. A’s condition got released. Unless he needed more specialized care and had been transferred to another facility? I set it back on the bedside table.
The sounds of Creole banging around in the kitchen made me smile for the moment. I listened as he moved around, cupboard doors banging closed, the microwave dinging as he prepared my coffee concoction. I rolled over and picked several pillows up off the floor, tossing them over my shoulder, and lined them up against the headboard, then scooted up and leaned back.
Creole returned, mugs in hand, a wolfish grin on his face. He handed me my coffee, set his own down, then slid open the pocket doors. The salty Gulf air permeated the room and climbed back into bed beside me. “How’s the doctor?”
“He got released.”
Creole’s brows rose. “Something’s going on there.”
“I’ll give Doc Rivers a call later. If something bad…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence. “I’d have heard.”
He took my mug out of my hand and put it on the table, pulling me on top of him and kissing me. “My guess is, considering the circumstances, it’s as simple as Doc not wanting anyone, specifically Dr. A’s ass-kickers, to have information about his godson.”
I kissed him back. “Doc has the connections to make that happen. Wouldn’t surprise me to hear that it was his idea. You’re not one to loll around in bed; what’s on your schedule today?”
“Didier and I are meeting Brad, and we’re headed to Miami to sign closing documents for that piece of property adjacent to the Boardwalk.”
“I’m surprised that deal ever went through.” It only happened because Brad had been, or still was, friends with Bordello, the owner—I was never sure about the status of that relationship. I did know that the man loathed the rest of the Westin family.
“Bordello told Brad that he hated the idea of a Boardwalk—too pedestrian for him. He was happy to unload it, as he wanted no association between it and his name.” Creole half-laughed, conveying that he thought the man was an ass. “We’ve already got a list of businesses interested in leasing space. That area is going to be more upscale and not as geared to children as the other side.” He nibbled on the tip of my nose. “What trouble are you getting into today?”
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