Hired Killer (Biscayne Bay Book 1)

by Deborah Brown

  “I wondered why the inspector was willing to meet; turns out he’s a friend of Ender’s,” Grey informed me. “The propane tank exploded. Could’ve been the heat. He didn’t see anything to indicate arson, and it’s been deemed an accident.”

  “That’s good news for the investor and Ender. Insurance will pay up and hopefully cut a check for enough money to rebuild.”

  I eyed the GPS after Grey programmed it with an address in another area that I was unfamiliar with. “Where are we going?”

  “Surprise.” He grinned at me, then shook his finger. “No eye-rolling.”

  He whizzed through the streets like he’d lived here his whole life. A couple of times, the GPS ramped up her snooty voice and told him to turn around, which he ignored. A few turns later, he turned onto a residential street. The properties were all colorfully painted, with fencing of one variety or another, and most had as many cars as they could squeeze into the driveway.

  Grey coasted past a house the color of dried cat pee. A youngish man ran from the house, threw boxes into the bed of a pickup backed into the driveway, and ran back for more. Grey pulled down the block and U-turned, and as he did, a thug-mobile pulled up across from the pee house and opened fire, then roared off down the street after several seconds of shots fired.

  Grey hit the gas and screeched up in front of the house, jumping out and running over to the guy lying next to his truck door. He rolled over as Grey approached, so that was a good sign. Grey pulled out his phone, and the man jerked on his pantleg. A sedan squealed up and stopped, and two guys jumped out and ran up the drive. Yelling ensued between all the parties. I had the window down but couldn’t make out the words. One ran inside and came out with two boxes, which he pitched into the trunk of the car, then jumped in and took off. The other man helped the guy to stand, threw his arm around him, and bundled his butt into the truck, then ran around to the driver’s side and hit it in reverse.

  “Is he okay?” I asked as Grey jumped behind the wheel. “And while we’re at it, who is he?”

  “Tyler Diggs.” He shook his head, pure frustration on his face. “Grazed his arm. He was lucky.” Unlike the other drivers, he drove sedately back to the corner, scanning the street as he went, then turned onto the busy highway. “I had my phone out to call the paramedics, but Tyler told me to mind my own business, with a few expletives, and to get out of there before I became a casualty.”

  “That was fast,” I said, as red flashing lights and sirens breezed past us and turned onto the sleepy residential street.

  Grey blew out an irritated sigh. “Tyler is a good example of why you don’t do business with crooks and then renege on the deal. They get even, and it’s never pretty.”

  “Surely the shooters weren’t friends of Ender?”

  “Nooo… Our young entrepreneur with the burned-out house got in over his head and borrowed more money than he could pay back. Used the property for collateral. His financiers found out that he’d already signed the property over to another party and didn’t take it well. They issued a ‘pay up or die’ order.”

  “Those were the enforcers?” My tone let him know I was unimpressed with their skills. “Are they poor shots or was that just a warning, since typically you can’t get money out of dead folks?”

  Grey flashed me an ‘are you done’ look? He grabbed his phone and related what just went down to someone I assumed was Ender, adding, “Unless Tyler’s stupider than he’s already shown himself to be, you won’t be seeing him around. He told me to tell you he’s sorry. If he’s got any sense, he’s headed for another state.” After a pause, he said, “No reason for a trip to the emergency room.” He laughed, said, “Probably,” and ended the call.

  “Let’s hope Tyler doesn’t turn up dead in Georgia or somewhere,” I said.

  “You can bet that if he needs to see a doctor, one of his posse will have one on speed dial.”

  “Ender hired you to… turn Tyler’s pockets inside out?” I asked, and the corners of his mouth turned up… much to his disgust, I was certain.

  “I was there to tell him to stop ignoring Ender’s calls.” He eyed me with a stern glare, and I struggled not to laugh. “And since the fire was an accident, they would work out a new agreement.”

  “Is working for Ender going to be a full-time gig?” If I were him, I’d want to know more about the secretive side of Ender’s business before working for him.

  “I was just getting ready to share the news.”

  I shot him a squinty stare.

  “Ender admitted that he didn’t check Tyler out as carefully as he should have and some of the information he did get was out of date. He’d like me to do background checks on future clients.” Grey maneuvered away from a driver who couldn’t decide which lane he wanted to drive in. “He complained that he let several red flags get past him, that he’d been juggling too much and needs to delegate.”

  “I thought you wanted to restart your own business.”

  “That hasn’t changed. He’d be my first client. He said that if it works out, he’ll use me on other jobs when he hangs up his lawyer shingle. I like the idea of working for someone who knows my real identity, so I’m not a total fraud. And should anything go south, it would be good to have a lawyer handy.”

  “You two are getting to be fast friends.”

  “Told him not to feel obligated, just because he was a dick to me when we were growing up. He laughed and said I’d be a good fit for the job and he thinks we can work well together. In addition, he’s offered to pass along my name to some associates that can throw work my way.”

  “You’re going to need a social media presence, and I’m your girl.” I looked out the window, trying to figure out where we were now. “Do you know where you’re going?”

  “Start practicing an apology, which I’ll expect when I get us back to the condo.”

  “As long as we get there today and not sometime tomorrow.”

  Grey punched the gas. He headed back to the water and turned north on Highway One, then over to the Causeway, where he took the exit for Palm Island. He held out his hand. “I put that envelope of cash in your purse.”

  “I wouldn’t give it back to the Old Coot.” I bent down, fished the cash out, and handed it over.

  Grey pulled up to the security gate and pushed the buzzer. “That’s Kent’s Mercedes, so he’s home.” He pointed to the car in the middle of the driveway.

  He pushed the button again.

  I kept my eyes glued to the windows, and there was no movement.

  Grey tried again. He picked up his phone and called, then left a message. “I was here as arranged to issue you a refund; you still want one, you can come get it.” Grey backed out and headed home.

  “I’m surprised the butler isn’t in residence.”

  “The latest update I have is that Kent’s got big problems. Millions were siphoned off, and yeah, he fingered his son, but he’s also a suspect.”

  “How about some Mexican food and tequila shots? My treat.”

  “Not with a head injury.”

  “I have a bump on my head, and I’m not on meds. I’ve been good through this trying day of cops and robbers, and alcohol would hit the spot. That and a walk on the beach.”

  “I get it. You’re ’tudey because you’re hungry. To show off my amazing BF skills, we’ll hop through the Bell and eat at home.”

  “Wait until I tell the owner of Cisco’s that you dissed his five-star establishment for fast food.”

  “I’m calling your bluff.”

  “You’re going to find out that I also know everyone and their brother, and when you’ve been here a little longer, you’ll know the same people and their cousins.”

  Chapter Twenty

  A week had gone by, and Grey’s phone had only rung once. He was showing signs of going stir-crazy and dealt with his frustrations by running on the beach.

  Avery had just left, after showing up with no treats and slapping down a rental agreement for t
he first floor of the office building with Hugo’s name on it. I’d met him briefly and liked him; he made me laugh, and that sealed the deal. “Empty is not making you money, and you know how I feel about that,” she said. Now the floors were all occupied, and Avery had taken over as building manager. Even though one wasn’t needed, she was excited by the idea, and I let her make decisions, as long as she kept me informed. To be honest, I didn’t want to do it.

  Avery had negotiated a beneficial deal with Hugo, whom she liked. He got rent reduction in exchange for fix-it services, and if it wasn’t in his bag of tricks, then he would recommend a non-shyster. She also pointed out that having his men around, who were built like tree trunks, was an added plus. She did have a talk with them about not crossing their burly arms and glaring at her clients. Winking at the ladies was perfectly acceptable.

  Grey looked over the contract and was agreeable. He liked that two of the floors would be occupied, and that the men hanging around discouraged trouble.

  He came out to my office on the balcony and set a sticky note on my keyboard. “I’ve decided that it’s time to quit dragging my feet and get my life back, not just go through the motions. There’s a murderer walking around that needs to be in jail.” He sat down next to me.

  Seven Donnelly. I recognized the name but waited for him to tell me how he wanted me to proceed.

  “I want you to trot out your writer con and get a sit-down with my old partner. I’m certain he won’t pass up the chance to talk to you, even if only for his own amusement. Depending on how it goes, I’ll out myself—let him know I’m still alive and tell him he’s a dick for not going to my funeral.”

  I thought about the so-called interview with Mr. Graham, and my cheeks burned.

  “You don’t have to worry about what to ask. I worked up a list of questions and emailed them to you. I’d like to know if anything new has turned up. Even though I’m ‘dead,’ I’m pretty sure he’d stay up on the case.”

  I typed the phone number in the search bar and clicked on the first result. “He’s local.”

  Grey leaned in and looked at the screen. “I did some research and found out that Seven retired and moved down here to join the family business. He and his brother now compete to see who can sell the most yachts—big-ass ones. He wasn’t difficult to locate, and I was happy to see that he’d made the move.”

  “I’ll do it on one condition.” I ignored his squinty-eyed stare. “Under no circumstances do you out yourself unless I give the thumbs up. One of my hidden talents is having a-hole radar, so I’ll know if he’s full of it or not.”

  “You like me.” He grinned, thoroughly amused with himself.

  “I’m a tad fond of you and don’t want anything happening to you.”

  “Deal.” Grey held out his pinkie. “Seven does have those hole tendencies that you’re able to ferret out, but he’s also a good guy. If he thinks you’re available, he’ll hit on you unless he’s in a relationship.”

  “I’ll wear a ring, and if that doesn’t deter him, I’ll whip out my phone and show him a picture of my six kids. I’ll photoshop an extended hillbilly family in front of a barn, add in a goat and a couple of dogs for that downhome feel.”

  Grey barked out a laugh. “You’re totally his type.” He pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket and held it up so I could see the screen: Avery. He barely got out “hello” before she started talking. Whatever it was irked him and wiped the smile off his face. “I’ll tell her and be right over.” He hung up. “There was an attempted break-in at the offices. They couldn’t get past the security doors but did crack the glass and jam the lock.”

  “Do I need to call the insurance company?”

  “It doesn’t sound like enough damage,” he said over his shoulder as he walked inside.

  I closed my laptop and followed him. “Hold up, I want to go. You leave me, and I’ll follow you.” He had his back to me, so I couldn’t hear what he was grumbling. I trailed behind him into the bedroom and quickly changed into an A-line t-shirt dress and sandals, then grabbed my purse and left him to finish, taking up a post at the front door.

  “You thought I was going to sneak out without you?” he said as he strode down the hall.

  “You wouldn’t do that.” I didn’t bother to hide my sarcasm.

  Grey grabbed my hand and raced-walked to the elevator.

  I grabbed my hand back and straightened. “I’d like to get to the car in one piece.”

  He chuckled as we rode down to the garage. After he unlocked the passenger door, he leaned in and bussed my cheek, followed by more laughter. He blew across town, maneuvering the one-way streets with ease, and pulled into the parking lot, taking his space under the tree. We got out and walked around the building, inspecting the side door and then the front; both appeared to have gone one-on-one with a crowbar-type instrument and won.

  One of Hugo’s men—I assumed, since he matched Avery’s description—strolled up. He had a barely contained, neutral look on his face, the tightening of his shoulders and coiled muscles of his neck a dead giveaway to his mood as he approached. He turned his head and hawked out a mouthful of tobacco, not all of it landing in the street.

  “Next time, get a little closer, so none of it lands in the parking lot.” There’s an eyeroll in my tone. “Better yet, get yourself a spitter thing.”

  “Spittoon,” Grey whispered with a grin.

  “Name’s Floyd,” he introduced himself with a toothy smile. “Sorry. Don’t tell Mama; she’ll kick my butt.” He stuck his hand out to Grey, who took it.

  Grey hooked his arm around me. “This is the owner, Harper Finn. I’m Steve, and my office is on the third floor.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Floyd nodded at me. “Heard good things from Avery.”

  Speaking of the woman, the door flew open and she blew out. She waved to Floyd, who looked at her like she was a delectable morsel. “You’re going to be happy with the upgrades I authorized.”

  “You remember the heads up you were going to give me before making any executive decisions?” I asked.

  “I know that you’re busy with your favorite client—me. Did you get the images I sent over to update my social media sites?”

  “I’ve got my web designer working on it as we speak.” I smirked at her, not telling her that the sites were getting an overhaul with an even splashier design. “Back to the upgrades that you authorized…”

  “I promise, you’re going to approve. I had security cameras installed. One at each entrance and one in my office, of course.” Avery pulled her phone out of the pocket of her dress, scrolled through it, and thrust it at Grey. “Got a great picture of the wannabe intruder.”

  Grey took a long look and growled. “What the hell was he doing here?” He handed me the phone.

  I stared at the screen. “That Rally guy. He’s a long way from Orlando.” I handed it back to Avery.

  “Text Hugo his picture,” Grey told Avery, who nodded. “Anyone sees Rally on the property, call the cops.”

  “If you want, one of the guys can sleep here the next couple of nights, in case the little butthead comes back.” Floyd hung his head over Avery’s shoulder.

  “We’ll talk,” Grey said.

  “What do you suppose he wanted?” I asked. “Quite the coincidence, him showing up here of all places. How did he get the address?”

  “The only time you met Rally was when he intruded on your meeting with Jeff Graham,” Grey mused. I nodded. “As I recall, Graham didn’t introduce you.”

  “If I had Rally’s phone number—” I eyed Avery. “—I could call and ask him. Since he wouldn’t be expecting the call, he’d be caught off guard. It would be interesting to see what kind of explanation he comes up with for attempted breaking and entering.”

  “Give him a choice,” Avery said. “He talks to you or you call the cops and press charges. Let him know you’ll also be suing for property damage.”

  Floyd grinned approvingly at her.


  “After you met, Rally disappeared inside the coffee shop. That must have been a ruse,” Grey said. “The only way I can think that he could have gotten this address is if he ran the license tag on my SUV. It’s registered here. The only thing that is, actually.”

  “Since he couldn’t know you were the driver, he has to be looking for me,” I said.

  “Agreed. But why?” Grey grouched.

  “What was his name again?” Avery whipped out her phone.

  “Rally Charles,” Grey told her. “He lives in Vista Isle with his parents, or did at the time of the investigation.”

  “Mr. Graham mentioned that he was a neighbor, so I don’t think he’s moved out of the mansion,” I said.

  “You get an address, and I’ll rearrange his teeth.” Floyd cracked the knuckles on his meaty hand.

  I looked down and winced.

  “I’ll go see what I can find out.” Avery raced back inside the building.

  Grey turned me to face him. “You’re not to call Rally unless I’m sitting right by your side. Under no circumstances do you arrange to meet him without my bodyguarding services.”

  “Your old man here can’t make it for some reason, I volunteer.” Floyd was back to cracking his knuckles.

  I nudged Grey with raised brows, grinning at the thought of him being Grey’s stand-in ‘old man,’ but Grey was only in the mood to glare at that point. “Didn’t your mom tell you that will give you big hands?” I said to Floyd.

  He threw his head back and laughed, holding up two skillet-sized palms. “You can see I wasn’t much of a listener.”

  A two-seater Jeep—a model that hadn’t been manufactured in years, sanded and primed, with flecks of red still showing—rumbled into the driveway and parked. A twelve-year-old jumped out from behind the wheel and waved. The tie with a t-shirt was an interesting look, and his glasses hung over by a foot on each side of his face. I knew without asking that he was a friend of Avery’s, although I didn’t know she had children for friends. And law-breaking ones at that.