“This is my special lady, Svetlana.” Joseph held out one of her hands for Cruz to shake.
Cruz snarled.
Joseph jumped back. “Tell Shirl I need to see her,” he said to Mac and flew out the door.
“Where the hell did you find him?” Cruz snapped.
“You must have forgotten that he was a client in the past,” I reminded him.
Cruz snorted. “No, he wasn’t. Probably turned him over to an associate.”
“Before you go off on a tirade, your relatives love him and his girlfriend.” It was an exaggeration about Joseph but not Svetlana, but he didn’t need to know that, and I was betting that he wouldn’t ask. “Svet is one of the nicest people that lives here – she’s never rude,” I managed to say with a straight face.
Mac snickered behind Cruz’s back.
Cruz turned on her. “Get them back here. And I mean today.” He reached for the door handle. “Call and update me every hour,” he said in a less brusque tone. “Susie will put your calls through.” The door banged behind him.
Next time I need to talk to Cruz, I’ll have Mac call.
Mac threw herself back in her chair. I breathed a sigh of relief that the attorney was gone. After several minutes, he revved the engine on his sports car and squealed out of the driveway.
“Now what?” I peered out the blinds. “We’ve got to find Maricruz and get her back, pronto.” I shook my head with a frown. “Cruz was livid, but he skipped out pretty quickly. I’d guess that his granny being a handful comes as no surprise.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do when I find them? Cuff her to a chair? Tie her up? Lock her in the shed? Then the crafty old bag will sue me.”
“There can’t be many places where it is legal to sleep on the beach. I can help look.” I ignored Creole shaking his head in a vehement not going to happen.
“No worries, I’ll handle this,” Mac said in a syrupy sweet voice. “I’ll get with Joseph; he’ll know the places I can check. When Shirl gets home, we’ll go together. If threats won’t work with Maricruz, I’ll threaten Crum with pitching his ass to the curb if he doesn’t get her cooperation.”
“You’ll call me?” I asked.
Mac nodded.
Creole stood and held out his hand to me. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. “This has been fun.” He smiled at Mac.
We walked to his truck, where he picked me up and slid me onto the passenger seat. He got behind the wheel, leaned across, and kissed me. “I’m impressed; you were calm under pressure. Makes me think this stuff goes on all the time.”
“Just another day of drama.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The rain came down in sheets, battering the sides of the SUV. The windshield wipers worked overtime. The standing puddles of water that seeped to the middle of the lane forced Fab to slow down, and the traffic crawled along. The air conditioning was on low to keep the windows from fogging over from the hot, sticky, rising humidity.
Fab and Didier had gotten back to the house late the night before. Fab had informed me by text, when I didn’t come downstairs for coffee early enough to suit her, that we had an appointment with Brick. I texted back, “not going.” I wanted to be in the Cove in case anyone called with information on Brad. Not one to be deterred, Fab reminded me that we weren’t to go on a case alone and that this would be a quick meeting.
“Do you think we could charge extra for these early morning meetings?” I bent over, fishing my flip-flops out from under the front seat and hoping not to hit my head on the dash when Fab came to a sudden stop in front of Famosa Motors.
“We show up midday, and the showroom is full of people; how much patience do you have for ‘take a number’?” Fab backed up and partially maneuvered the SUV under an awning. “Another flaw in your idea: Brick hates to pay when we get shot at—or almost shot at, in some cases—so the chances are zero he’ll pay for accommodating our schedule.”
“What’s this case about?” I asked, smoothing down my skirt.
“I just got a text to be here and the time.”
“Remember your promise to keep this short,” I grumbled, slid out—only to find my feet submerged in ankle-deep water—and slammed the door.
“Try to behave yourself,” Fab teased.
“I don’t think these pot/kettle moments bring us closer as friends.” I wrinkled my nose.
The corner of her mouth lifted in an almost-smile.
Although it was too early for the dealership to be open, the doors were unlocked. Pouring rain would not bring out masses of new car buyers. The striking fluorescent-haired woman sat behind the receptionist desk. I waved and Fab ignored her as we passed by, headed to the stairs. I’d forgotten the woman’s name. Asking Fab was a waste of time; she never remembered anyone’s name.
Everly, that was it.
“Stop right there.” Everly stood, taking a step toward us. “There is a certain etiquette that is going to be followed from today forward. First you check in here at the desk, then I announce you to Brick, and he gives the okay for you to go upstairs. Until that time, you stay here. There’s coffee and a soda machine right over there.” She waved her arm toward a sitting area that was also part of her domain.
Fab yelled at the top of her lungs, “Brick, we’re here.”
Everly glared at Fab, not amused by her antics. “I really hate to repeat myself. But since you weren’t listening or didn’t understand, I’ll speak slowly.”
For a second, Fab’s eyes narrowed, and I swore I heard a low growling noise emanate from her. “Brick and I have an appointment.”
“That’s where you’re wrong; you’ll be meeting with me.” Everly’s brown eyes shot icicles. “Mr. Famosa is sorry that he couldn’t be here, but an unexpected situation occurred that needed his immediate attention.”
Lightening danced in the sky and thunder roared overly long, the mood outside matching the one inside. The moment of silence was over for the noisy show, as the fast-moving storm made its presence known just to the north of us.
“Brick couldn’t call?” I asked indignantly.
“You’re telling me that Brick is discussing his cases with the receptionist?” Fab asked, disbelief written on her face. “Or whatever you are.”
Everly wasn’t the least bit intimidated by Fab’s hair-raising look, nor by the scene that was unfolding. “If you’ll come over here—” She gestured toward her desk. “I’ll give you your instructions, and you can leave.” She flashed a tight smile.
I moved next to Fab, turning slightly, and whispered, “Don’t shoot her.”
“What’s the job?” Fab demanded, not budging an inch.
After a brief stare-down, Everly lifted a briefcase, setting it on the countertop. “You are to deliver this to the address written on this paper.” She produced a piece of Famosa Motors stationary. “You’re to call immediately once you’ve completed the job.” Another phony smile; this one had a flash of teeth. “Send me an invoice, and I’ll put a check in the mail.”
Invoice? Check? Both of us had gotten used to being paid in cash.
Fab retrieved the briefcase. If she hadn’t had the handle in a white-knuckle clench, it would have sailed across the room. She jerked the paper from between Everly’s fingers, thrusting it at me, and turned, setting the case down on the nearest table with a bang. When the locks didn’t budge, she took out her lockpick, not bothering to ask for the code.
“Stop right there.” Everly scurried around the desk, reaching for the briefcase at the same time Fab’s forearm sent it crashing to the floor. “Your job,” she yelled, “is to deliver it, and it’s none of your damn business what’s inside.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I told her, nominating myself as the calm one. “You open the case, or we’re leaving.” I’d had enough of the change in the way we dealt with Brick.
“You must be the pain in the ass.” Everly stared at me, giving me the once-over, stopping at my feet, and turned up her nose. “I was wondering which of you it was. Brick told me it would be easy to figure out.”
“There’s been a change in plans. You deliver it, and if you get arrested, call Brick; he’s good for the bail. Unless, of course, a judge denies you.” I grabbed Fab’s arm, silently communicating that if she didn’t leave with me, I’d drag her out by the hair.
“You can tell Brick that when he gets back to business as agreed on, he can give me a call. Otherwise, he can find someone else.” Fab marched out.
I followed, but turned back briefly to see Everly bend down to retrieve the case. Her top rode up and exposed a handgun at the small of her back.
“What the hell just happened?” Fab demanded. “She’s no receptionist. Lover? I don’t think he’s stupid enough to mix business and sex.”
“What do you suppose was in the briefcase?” The not-knowing bugged me. “I’ve still got the address.” I pulled the paper out of my pocket, punching the address into the GPS. “Fisher Island. Millionaires and Mansions.”
“Brick’s up to something,” Fab hissed. “Everly’s in on it, and we’re the odd girls out. Screw him. We need Phil to investigate Everly. I want to know everything that can be found on the woman.”
I was supposed to order that check and had forgotten. I’d rectify that immediately.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fab detoured to Ft. Lauderdale so that we could check on Brad’s boat; nothing had changed. Driving south, the rain lessened to a heavy drizzle, and when we hit the Keys, the sun came out. The cooler weather was replaced by scorching heat.
“Mother’s here,” I pointed out when Fab careened around the corner. “Let’s hope she brought food.” Didier’s Mercedes was parked across the street in the neighbor’s driveway. I texted an invite to Phil before getting out.
I followed Fab inside. Mother, Spoon, and Didier were sitting around the island, eating what smelled and looked like salmon burgers.
“You two are back early.” Mother glanced at the clock. “Another crappy job?”
“Once the job was outlined, Fab turned up her finely arched nose, and we left. I grinned at Fab, then sobered. “We went by Brad’s boat on the way; no changes there.”
Didier pulled her into his arms. Whatever he said to her in French made her beam up at him.
The roar of a motorcycle had us all staring at one another. Spoon shoved his stool back, but before he could make it over to the garden window, Gunz smooshed his face against the glass, waving wildly. He headed to the front door, knocked, and didn’t wait for an answer before bursting in, his large bulk filling the entryway.
“Nice hairdo,” I greeted him. He was Fab’s friend, but that didn’t prevent us from sharing a mutual distrust.
Gunz ignored me, his dark eyes focused on Fab. “Hey, sugar. You called, and here I am.”
“You can introduce him.” I smirked. “You can skip Spoon; they’re already acquainted.” The two men grunted at one another in acknowledgment, each doubtless wishing they had the power to make the other disappear.
Gunz bent his head over Mother’s hand. She twisted her nose and, always the polite one, said something about it being nice to meet him. I snorted, and he shot me a dirty look. He nodded to Didier. “The boyfriend,” he said, unimpressed.
Another knock on the door. Spoon, as he squeezed by Gunz, said, “If you ever have occasion to come back here, wait until you’re invited in.” He answered and stepped back. Phil and he exchanged words, and they both laughed.
“Hey, doll.” Gunz salivated. “Bartender, right? That’s a waste of your talent.”
I rolled my eyes, turning to Fab with an unspoken, Get Gunz under control.
“Did you come here with information?” Fab snapped at Gunz.
“Pinged Brad’s phone.” Gunz crossed his arms, proud of himself. “Nothing. Which is odd, unless he doesn’t want to be located or keeps it in one of those special cases or if, for some reason, someone took the battery out.”
“Stick to the facts,” Spoon barked, hauling Mother to his side.
“The last of Brad’s texts led us to believe he’d be back tomorrow. If I get another text, can you ping that?” Didier questioned.
“I’ll have my associate regularly check the number. You get a message, call immediately.” Gunz pushed himself away from the counter, waving off Mother’s offer of food. “Anything else?” He winked at Fab. “You know where to find me.”
Didier shot Gunz a “drop dead” look.
He laughed, stopping in front of Phil. “Can I call you?”
“I’m taken,” Phil responded.
“Anything changes, Fab has my number.” Gunz lumbered out the door.
“Bye, see you.” I waved after the door closed.
“Really, Madison.” Mother stuck out her lecture finger. “Gunz seems like a—”
“If you say ‘nice man,’ I’m going to cough up the two bites of food I ate right as he barged in.”
Everyone laughed except Mother and Didier.
“He is helping to find Brad, and that’s all that matters, whatever his faults,” Mother said.
“I tried not to be annoyed that he didn’t have jack.” I was on a roll with all the dirty looks today.
“Word’s out on the street,” Phil said. “Money in exchange for information. Doodad is helping to coordinate it so I don’t have to deal with every lowlife in town.”
“Doodad…” I paused. “Isn’t that the civil war veteran that hangs around town, posing for pictures with tourists?” The man strutted around in an authentic uniform, regaling those that would listen with his command of history.
“He’s not as old as he looks; a hard life will do that to you,” Phil said. “He doesn’t rip people off or steal from them; they get what they pay for and a little education, if they listen.”
“Everly Lynch.” Thank goodness I’d remembered this time. “She works for Brick, and we want to know everything about her as soon as possible.”
“Got it.” Phil saluted.
My phone rang, Mac’s face popping up on the screen. “It’s Miss January…” Mac said, sounding frantic, when I answered. Then the line went dead.
“Just great.” I hit redial, and Mac’s phone went to voicemail. “There’s a problem at The Cottages.” I crossed to Mother, enveloping her in a hug. “I’ll be right back—hopefully.”
I grabbed my bag off the bench in the entry, fishing my keys out of the bottom. I was about to tell Fab to hurry up when I saw her back turned in conversation with Didier. I made eye contact with him and shut the door behind me.
* * *
Two police cars blocked the driveway, an ambulance in the middle of the street. Cutting it close, I maneuvered into Mac’s driveway.
Miss January was being led by Kevin to one of the patrol cars. He helped her inside, and she laid her head against the backseat.
“Kevin,” I yelled, throwing up my hands. “What’s going on?” Struggling to control my temper, I said, “She just got out of the hospital.”
“Mind your own business,” he shouted back.
It surprised me to see Cruz and his grandmother; I would have thought that she’d be long gone. Mac stood behind them, waving at me, pointing at Maricruz, and frowning. Cruz, in well-fitting jeans and a white button-down shirt, appeared to be questioning the other deputy. Judging by the officer’s sullen expression, he had zero interest in whatever Cruz was going on about.
It took a few short strides for Mac to reach me. “Score is dead,” she informed me breathlessly. “And has been for a while.”
“He is older than… He’s lived a long life.” Despite owning the property for a few years now, I was feeling like the new girl. “Are you trying to tell me Miss January murdered h
im?”
Before Mac could answer, Cruz snarled, “I want that bastard arrested.” He pointed at Crum, who was slinking back toward his cottage.
Kevin strode up. “For what? Granny here having questionable taste in men? We should arrest her. You can bail her out; give you something to do, since you can’t seem to control one old woman.”
I clasped my hands behind my back, resisting the urge to clap.
Maricruz spun around, scowling and giving Kevin the finger. Cruz was the only person who didn’t see the display.
“What is Grandma alleging?” I asked Cruz. “If we could hurry this along, you’d have time to keep Miss January from going to lockup.”
“Don’t count on it,” Cruz said icily. He took hold of his grandmother’s hand, steering her towards the pool area, followed by the cop, who whistled for Crum to go along.
Jerking on Mac’s arm, I steered her off to one side. “I want to hear about Miss January first.”
“Shirl was bringing Miss January home from the hospital today, so I went into her cottage to open the windows, let in a little fresh air.” Mac’s suntanned skin paled considerably. “The smell… hit me in the face.”
“Do you need to sit down?”
Mac shook her head. “Thinking back, I haven’t seen Score in a long time. I’d asked about him a couple times, and Miss January always mumbled that he was great and gave me one of those moony smiles of hers. You know, the one where she looks demented.”
“Can we get to the part about why she is in custody?”
“Unbeknownst to me, Maricruz came up behind me and got a whiff of dead body odor. I told her that I would take care of it, but she called 911 before I could stop her. That’s when I called you.”
“Why would she do that?”
“To get even with me because I called Cruz and told him she was back from her romp on the beach.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing Creole had another day off. “And Score?”
“It’s unclear how long he’s been dead. Miss January admitted to Kevin that she knew he was dead and didn’t tell anyone. She didn’t want anyone taking him away when she could take care of him.” Mac shuddered.
Hurricane in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 10) Page 18