It wasn’t that Fab disliked the man; it just unnerved her that for the longest time, he’d wanted to put her in jail.
The door opened, and Doodad set down the drinks. “You need anything else, holler.”
“To an arrest in Stan’s case,” Doc toasted. “He’s been released from the hospital and is healing nicely, but slowly. He’s a pain in my backside. Two know-it-all doctors trying to outsmart each other.”
Everyone laughed.
“I’m happy to hear that he didn’t go back home.” I shuddered.
“Oh hell no,” Doc said. “I got him tucked away in a stash house.”
“That would be a safe house,” Creole said, and the three cops at the table laughed.
“How about you tell me how you got involved in this case,” Help said, a glint of amusement in his eye. He knew my penchant for sticking my nose in where…well, others would have opted to mind their own business. “I know you were instrumental in getting Dr. A to the hospital, but start from the beginning.”
I told him about my jail visits and that my services had been requested in finding a lawyer and a reliable bondsman. I left out searching Dr. A’s house. Help seemed to know there’d been a gap and zeroed in on me, his eyes flicking to Fab. I ended with finding Dr. A and calling 911.
Creole put his arm around me as I started retelling how we’d found Dr. A, knowing that the what ifs still haunted me.
“You did everything right,” Doc Rivers said emotionally.
“I hear there’s a new legal eagle in town, and he’s representing Dr. A,” Harder said. “How did you meet him?”
“I met him while having coffee at our local bakery,” I said. “Turns out his bro lives next door to mine.”
Help stared again, as though trying to read my mind and figure out what I wasn’t saying.
“What did you find out about Nicolette Anais?” The chief stared in the same penetrating fashion as Help.
“Nicolette?” I cocked my head as if confused.
“You know, the dead girlfriend?” The chief shook his head, not impressed with my stalling. “And don’t tell me ‘nothing.’ That particular innocent face is a new one I haven’t seen before, but you’re not fooling me.”
Creole chuckled.
“You can take it from here,” I said to Fab.
“I’d hate to interrupt when you’re doing such a good job.” She glared back at me.
Didier whispered something, brushing the top of her head with his lips.
“Feel free to chime in, should I forget something.” Guess not, considering her pursed lips. “Feelings, I’ve got. No proof. I think Nicolette bought and used drugs.” I couldn’t tell them how I knew…or could I? This wasn’t the audience to disclose the large amount of cash and drugs we’d found. At some point, Help would corner me, judging by the fact that he was back to staring. “Did you know that her ex-boyfriend was Dilwen Nash?”
“Who’s that?” Doc Rivers asked.
“A drug dealer we’d like to put in a prison cell,” Harder said. “So far, we haven’t got any hard evidence, and every time we’ve gotten close, one of his thug associates steps up and takes the blame and then mysteriously ends up dead.”
“He’s also a loan shark,” Creole said. “Not sure if you heard, but one of his runners recently turned up dead.”
“What kind of evidence would it take to get the charges against Dr. A dropped?” I asked.
“Proof that Nicolette either bought or sold drugs,” the chief said. “Far as I know, there’s nothing that links Dr. A to the drugs, not even fingerprints.”
I had to be careful how much I said; Fab and I might need a lawyer if I went any further. “I know Dr. A; he doesn’t do drugs, and I can’t imagine him supplying them to his girlfriend,” I said casually.
“They hadn’t known each other long,” Doc said. “Nicolette moved her clothing in one day, and since they were getting along well, Stan didn’t object.”
“Do you mind if I have a look around Dr. A’s place?” Help asked Doc. “Is it still in the same condition as the day he was found?”
“Yes, it is. I can get you a key,” Doc said.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“You’ve associated yourself with a lock-picking crowd,” I said to Doc. “Some of us, anyway.”
“That sounds like a useful skill.” Doc laughed. “I’m thinking I need to learn.”
“I’m on the case,” Help said. “Having the chief’s approval will make things easier and make it unnecessary to bring in other law enforcement. It will take a few days to interview witnesses and do my own investigation, and I’ll keep the chief updated.”
That pleased Doc Rivers. I knew that Help would also keep Creole in the loop.
“How do you feel about anonymous tips?” Fab asked the chief. “And could that person stay anonymous?”
His eyebrow rose in question. “I’m assuming you’re asking for a friend. Did said person witness a crime?”
“On the drive over, Didier and I discussed telling Help, who could pass on the information, but since you’re here…” Fab hesitated.
“I’m all ears.”
“It’s about the double murder of a young couple up in your jurisdiction,” Fab said. “Mrs. Brandt, the wife, had just had her husband investigated to provide proof of his infidelity and the identity of his lover.”
“Really?” The chief rubbed his chin. “Did Mrs. Brandt get a report of said activities?” Fab nodded. “How long after she received the report did the duo end up dead?”
“Same day,” Fab said.
Doc Rivers choked on his drink.
“We’ve expressed an interest in having a chat with Mrs. Brandt, but she lawyered up,” the chief shared. “We gave her a pass while we investigated other leads. That just expired.”
“I want to assure you that the investigator had no clue that the case would end in death,” Fab said.
“I’m certain of that,” the chief reassured her. “You can tell your friend that there’s a low percentage of cheating cases that end in murder.”
“Be interesting to know if she made any large payments to anyone—such as a hitman,” Creole mused.
“Miss the action?” the chief asked. “I’d hire you back tomorrow.”
“I’m enjoying the real estate gig. Besides, I’ll soon be a father to eleven, and I want to be hands-on.” He grinned. “And Didier’s also going to father eleven.”
I covered my face and laughed.
Creole told them the joke about us starting our own soccer team.
“You might want to think about tennis.” The chief laughed. “That way, you could start with one each.”
There was a knock on the door, and Doodad stuck his head in. “Your friends are arriving,” he told Doc Rivers.
“I want to thank you for meeting us.” Doc stood and hugged me.
“Don’t let the cardsharps pick you clean.” I showed them the patio entrance to the game room.
When I sat back down, Help said, “I’d like to hear the parts that you left out. I’m assuming that they might include a felony or two.”
“There’s that.” I sighed. “And there were some details having to do with Nicolette I didn’t think Doc should hear.”
I picked the story back up where we searched Dr. A’s house and detailed everything we found. I told him that the money was being held in a safe for Dr. A and the drugs had been burned. I didn’t divulge any names. And I told him about how, after finding Dr. A that fateful day, I’d remembered the paperwork that I still had in my possession and how reading Nicolette’s journal led to our discovery of the house she’d kept secret.
“I’d like to see that journal,” Help said.
“I’ve got pictures on a drive that you can have,” Fab said.
“You can probably find answers to the mystery of Nicolette at her beach house.” I told him what we’d found there, letting him know that we’d left everything undisturbed, figuring that at some point,
it might all be evidence.
“Once you get a look at the files Nicolette collected on Dilwen, I’m thinking that might get your chief the arrest he craves,” Fab said. “She was pretty thorough. If I were to venture a guess, I’d say she was preparing her insurance policy.”
“Your significant others are right to insist that you keep a low profile,” Help said. “If anyone knew what you’ve uncovered and it were to get back to the wrong people, you’d be dead in a blink. A lot of people have ended up dead for a lot less.”
“We’ve already agreed that we’re out. Creole would kill me if I offered my brawn.” I flexed my arm. “I’m available anytime to answer questions if you need clarification on anything. And I always know where to find Fab if you need to talk to her.”
“You agree that you’re out?” Didier asked Fab.
“Definitely.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The next day, I got a call to meet Fab at the office and bring my tennis shoes. Before I could get any details out of her, she hung up. I deciphered it to mean a new case and we’d be lucky to get out alive; couldn’t rule out a trip to jail, either.
On the drive over, my phone rang, and I was surprised to see it was GC calling.
“I’ve got a deal for you,” GC said when I connected.
“Can’t wait to hear the details.”
“I’m not hearing any love in your voice.” He laughed.
“I have to be at an appointment in under five. So…”
“My brother needs someone to run background checks and the like, and he’s bugging me to ask you who you use. He’s impressed with what you’ve been able to produce.”
“That must be awkward, since he’s complimenting you.”
“Here’s the deal—he uses your services, and you forward the requests to me. This isn’t a freebie; you’ll be getting paid. I’ll work for him for a discounted rate, but you’ll charge the full amount and keep the difference.”
“As long as I can call for my own searches and get the discounted rate too.”
“Got it.”
“One more thing. Fab and I have an assistant now, and you’ll probably have some contact with him. Don’t be bitchy.”
“I’d never…” he said with amusement. “This paragon have a name?”
“He’ll tell you if he wants you to know.”
“Be expecting a call from my bro.” GC hung up.
Arriving at the office, I hit the button on the dash. The security gates opened and I drove into the garage, surprised to see more cars than usual; all ones I recognized. By the time I got to the top of the stairs, Creole was framed in the doorway. He leaned in and kissed me.
“We’re having a meeting,” he said in response to my confusion.
Didier was in the kitchen, making coffee, and Fab had set a platter of Danishes on the kitchen table.
Toady and Xander had been included in this little sit-down. What a motley crew, I laughed to myself.
“It was my hot idea to invite the guys,” Fab said. “That way, they get firsthand what we’re doing today.”
“Anyone?” Toady held up a bottle of water.
I was the only one to raise my hand. The rest were drinking coffee.
Creole pulled out a chair, and I sat next to him. Fab and Didier sat across from us and Xander and Toady on the ends.
“I call this meeting to order.” Fab banged a spoon on the table. “Got a surprise for you,” she said to me. “You get it when the meeting is over.”
“Yay, a surprise.”
“You’re going to like this one,” Creole said in my ear.
“We’ve got two jobs for today,” Fab said. “Got a call from an old client…”
Didier smirked, so he knew what was coming.
“His son borrowed a friend’s alligator, and he would like us to return it to its rightful owner.”
“N. O.,” I shot straight up and practically yelled. “Have you lost your mind?”
All the guys were smiling.
“I hate to be a downer here,” Creole said, but he clearly didn’t. “But if said brat took the animal without permission, it’s theft. Not to mention that there are wildlife restrictions. Fairly certain you need a permit to keep a gator, so you should make sure the owner has all the appropriate paperwork before returning it.”
“Not doing it.” I stared at Fab.
“I’m on it, Frenchie.” Toady raised his hand. “I know all about gators, and I’m pretty certain this one will have an attitude from being moved around. He’ll need his mouth taped so no one ends up losing an arm. I can also have a chat with the owner and point out that it’s better to let the gator go back to its natural habitat.”
“Can’t wait to hear about your second job,” Didier said.
“Serving an eviction notice on a commercial property,” Fab said in a matter-of-fact voice.
“And?” I asked.
“What? We get easy ones from time to time.”
“Name one.” I shook my head. “While you’re trying to come up with an answer…” I told them about my phone call from GC, asking me to field investigation requests. I didn’t divulge that they would be from his brother, since his identity was still a secret from everyone but Fab. “I was thinking you could be the go-between,” I said to Xander.
“I can start day after tomorrow,” Xander said. “Tomorrow, I’m going to The Cottages and spend the day with Mac. She sounds cool on the phone.”
“These two,” Creole waved a hand between Fab and me, “are going all out for you and doing a lot more than I would, considering how you met. You screw it up, and I’ll hunt you down.”
“You’ve got my word,” Xander said. “Before I was busy being a dick, and a criminal one at that, I was a decent person. I like having regular meals and a roof over my head again—one that isn’t provided by the state. I plan on paying all this back.”
“Just don’t screw over my wife,” Didier said.
“Since there’s nothing else.” Fab stood. “Surprise time.”
“Wait,” I said. “How did the Brick job end? Or did it?”
“Brick got his car back,” Toady said smugly. “It cost him. I got paid double and collected before delivery. Also warned him if he expected me to work for him in the future, to keep it civil or I’d quit, and I wouldn’t be changing my mind.”
Fab moved over next to my chair. “Follow me.”
I stood and followed her, and she moved the screen away from my portion of the office. It was now official. Even the electronics had been set up, and it was ready for me to sit and get to work. “Great job. So over-the-top…and so you.” I smiled.
“Didier and Xander got all the details figured out, and then got everything set up,” Fab said.
“Thank you both.”
“The two-foot conch shell is from me.” Creole laid his arm across my shoulders. “It’s for your business cards.”
“Love that idea.” I turned and kissed him. “I’ll share my desk anytime.”
Toady cleared his throat. “I’m going to go locate that alligator before someone gets hurt. Stupid people.” He waved and headed to the door.
“You be careful,” I said.
“No worries about me. Me and the wildlife are simpatico.” He closed the door behind him.
“He’s scary,” Xander mumbled.
“Don’t screw him, and he won’t kill you,” Fab advised.
“Come on, sister. Let’s go kick people to the curb.” I shook my finger at Creole and Didier. “You two stay out of trouble.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Fab drove to Homestead and easily found the address, which belonged to a small commercial building with four storefronts. The business in question, according to the sign, was a real estate office. Next door was a nail salon, and the other two were empty.
Parked in front of the real estate office was a nondescript white van with two men loading boxes in the back.
I motioned for Fab to drive past, not wantin
g her to pull in and go into confrontation mode. “With any luck, the occupants are in the middle of moving out, and we don’t need to bother serving the notice.”
“It’s not that big a deal.” Fab took a quick look over her shoulder. “I’ll get out and hand one of them the notice, and if they won’t take it, I’ll tape it on the door.”
“You know darn well that that scenario is inviting a fight, especially if they refuse the notice and tell you to get lost in succinct terms.”
Fab had pulled to the side of the road and checked the rearview mirror for the fifth time.
“What’s going on?” I turned in my seat as she hung a u-turn.
“The SUV that just went by has passed us twice and is now parked across the street from the strip mall.” She parked behind them about half a block back, which gave us a good view of the property in question. “If I’m not mistaken—and when does that happen?” she boasted. “There’s a couple of guns sticking out the windows on the passenger side.” She’d no sooner got out the words than the SUV screamed away from the curb, tires squealing, pulled into the parking lot, and opened fire.
The man behind the wheel of the van hopped out and returned fire from behind the car door. The two loading the boxes dropped them, drew their weapons, and fired. One more man came out of the office, gun in hand, and hit the ground, rolling toward the van.
Fab and I had drawn our weapons.
I wasn’t getting out of the car, but if trouble came our way, I’d defend myself. “Now would be a good time to leave,” I whispered.
The exchange of bullets went on for a minute but seemed like an hour. Not sure if one side or the other ran out of ammunition, but the SUV’s parting shot was a canister that barreled through the air and right through the plate glass window of the office. Flames leapt up. The SUV squealed back into the street and down the block.
The driver of the van lay on the ground, not moving. Two of the other men raced over and hauled him to his feet, dragging him around the back and slamming the doors. The third man hopped into the driver’s seat and blew off the lot, going in the opposite direction of the SUV.
Customers and employees flew out of the nail salon.
“I should’ve followed the SUV,” Fab lamented.
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