“What she is is fiercely loyal. Brick, not so much, unless it’s in his best interests. His vague relationship with the truth and habit of not disclosing all the pertinent facts have, in the past, gotten people shot, which is, I suspect, the reason he can’t keep good help.” The woman didn’t show a flicker of emotion. “Except Fab, who has some misguided need to never say no to Brick because of their longstanding relationship.”
After a long pause, during which neither of us said a word and it became clear she had no comment, I brushed past her and hustled down the stairs. I forced myself to walk and not run back to the SUV.
Chapter Thirty
It surprised me that, when Fab slid into the driver’s seat, she was fully composed. She checked the rearview mirror and backed out. The only sign that her anger hadn’t dissipated was her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“You’re not going to talk to me. Your best friend in the whole wide world.” I sighed dramatically. “It is the world, isn’t it, and not just Florida?”
“You don’t have to know everything.” She headed out into traffic rather sedately, another sign she wasn’t herself.
The smirk was quick, and had I taken my eyes off her for a second, I would’ve missed it. “That’s a good one. I hope you don’t have a hissy fit when I use it on you. In the meantime, I sit here, all ladylike, waiting patiently to hear every last word that you and that bastard exchanged.”
“They’re not sleeping together.”
“Just damn ick. I hope you’ve got something better than that.”
“It was Everly’s idea to test my loyalty. The last time he got shot, it was after a case the two of us worked on. Everly discounted you as being too dumb.” Fab grinned at me.
“So you’re both the hot one and the smart one?”
Fab didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Brick explained away her bogus identity as her needing a fresh start.”
“That doesn’t pass the smell test. It’s damn difficult to get a new identity. Besides being illegal, it takes someone with computer skills and cash to pay for the transaction. I’ll bet Ms. Lynch has something big to hide.”
“Brick did half-ass apologize, which surprised me—probably him too—said he should have handled the situation better. He explained he tended to act on his brilliant ideas before thinking them through.”
What a jerk! “Did you sweep everything under his desk, pretend it never happened?”
“Anyone watching the two of us would think so. I would’ve welcomed that until he let it slip that he’ll be using Everly on the kinds of cases I turn my nose up at. He made it clear that the extra charges for shots fired aggravated him and—though he didn’t outright say so, he might as well have—that he felt my claims were made up.”
Thinking back, I felt bad; it was my idea to charge more. However, the boyfriends would be ecstatic that we wouldn’t be working for him as much.
“How did you leave it?”
“Now that I know the truth of Everly’s hiring and extended duties, it made it easier to tell him that Didier had gotten an offer too good to turn down—being the face of a European clothing line—which will require him to relocate to Italy for four to six months, and that I’d be going with him. I no longer have to feel a twinge of guilt at leaving him in the lurch. Brick didn’t hide that he was stunned, which made me feel as though I might be missed after all. He did wish me well.”
The air was sucked out of my lungs in a short whoosh. Italy? Four to six months? “When were you going to tell me?”
“I just told you everything.”
A scream erupted from my lips. “You tell Brick that you’re leaving town before me? No heads up, from you or Didier, that you were thinking of such a move?”
Fab rubbed her ear. “That wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be. I made it all up. Not all of it. I did tell Brick that story because I didn’t want to be pressured to work for him anytime soon. If he finds out, I’ll just make something else up; not sure what, but something.”
“So you’re not leaving?”
Fab shook her head, and I slugged her in the arm as hard as I could.
“Ouch, dammit.”
“You’re not funny.” I glared.
“Oh well.” Fab flashed a sly smile. “Let’s stop at Jake’s and get a drink.”
“I’m not drinking until Brad comes home. I need to be sober and ready to go. You drink, I’ll drive.”
“We’re going to find him.”
My phone rang. “It’s Shirl.” I answered and said, “You’re on speaker.” I clicked the button.
“Miss January is getting released tomorrow and going to a rehab facility for a week to get back on her feet, since she can’t be released unless she has someone at home to care for her. It’s illegal to discharge a patient when we know they need care and have no one. Luckily, she has insurance.”
“I appreciate you coordinating all of this. A week will give us time to get her cottage disinfected.”
Fab made an unidentifiable noise.
“Miss J asked to see you; she’s worried about Score,” Shirl said.
“Does she know he’s dead?” Fab asked.
“I think she knows. She’s more worried about where he’ll end up. It did finally sink in that she doesn’t get to keep him.”
“Once the coroner releases Score’s body, it is going to the guys at Tropical Slumber. Which reminds me, I need to call them and give them a heads up.” I disconnected and leaned my head against the window.
Chapter Thirty-One
Fab drove into the driveway of the Crab Shack at the same time as Mother. The restaurant wasn’t far off the main highway and looked out over the cool waters of the Atlantic. Phil had texted that one of her snitches wanted to hook up, so I invited her to join us. At Fab’s suggestion, I’d called Mother after we’d gotten home and suggested we meet for a late lunch with a water view.
“Let Mother do her diva act so we get a table with an eye-popping view,” I told Fab. “The last time we were here, you annoyed one of the shift managers; if she’s here today, we’ll get seated by the kitchen.”
“I admit that telling the woman my fish tasted like shoe leather went a little far.”
Mother knocked on the hood, and we got out.
Fab and Mother hugged and walked inside. I hung back and waited for Phil, who had just rolled in.
The restaurant had a low-key atmosphere and was decorated with fake palm trees scattered around, dead fish mounted on the walls, and rope lights strung across the ceiling.
Mother snagged us a corner table at the window that afforded a wide view of the blue ocean water, which wasn’t diminished by the dark thunderclouds that could be heard rumbling in the distance. In addition to an appetizer, she also ordered drinks for everyone. Fab and I were used to such high-handedness, but I hoped it wouldn’t annoy Phil.
“I ordered everyone’s favorites.” Mother beamed. “Fab just gave me the highlights of your trip to Brick’s. Damn, I wish I could’ve gone.” She pouted. “He’s a feckless prick.”
“Madeline Westin,” I gasped, my cheeks turning pink.
“Sometimes, you can be such a priss.” She smiled fondly. “At my age, I can say what I damn well want.” She looked toward the front door. “And Spoonie’s nowhere around.”
“I thought you were forbidden from using his bedroom name in public.” Fab grinned.
Phil’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
“I need a drink.” I felt my resolve to restrict myself to only one slipping away. In an attempt to keep the conversation out of the bedroom, I asked Phil, “What do you think your snitch wants and when’s he calling back?”
“Doodad doesn’t have a phone. He ventures to town about once a week and always stops by to catch up on the latest gossip. Not sure how the old hermit manages to stay up
on the latest, but he does. He’s proven to be more reliable than most,” Phil told us.
“Doodad? What kind of name is that?” Mother asked.
My first guess would be progeny of stoners.
“His real name is Charles Wingate III, but he thinks Doodad is more fitting for a retired sea captain.”
Fab beat her fist on the table. “Drink,” she moaned, a little loudly.
“Fabiana, wait until Didier hears about your antics; you don’t even have the excuse of being drunk.” I shook my finger at her, using my best “Mother” voice.
“He’s not here.” Fab winked at Mother. “And you better not tell him.”
Just then, the server interrupted with the delivery of Mother’s Jack Daniels on the rocks, Fab’s martini, and a pitcher of margaritas with two glasses dipped in salt with a lime garnish. It was well timed to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“To Brad,” Mother toasted. “He’ll be home soon.”
After taking a long drink, I asked Phil, “Why can’t we pay a visit to Doodad?”
“Don’t know where he lives. Says he likes a solitary lifestyle and doesn’t want anyone intruding on him unless it’s an animal. Has a big heart for strays.” Phil downed her glass. “Rumor has it that when he comes to town, he also gets laid.”
“That’s nice. He can get all his errands done in one day.” I held out my glass for a refill.
Mother waved her hand at the bar, refilling our order in the hand signals that bartenders understood.
Before I got too sloshed, I needed to a make a call, so I fished my phone out of my purse. “Got a job for you,” I said when Mac answered. “Pays good. Well, maybe not, since Fab is paying.” I laughed at Fab’s look of disgust.
“Speaker,” Fab whispered, loud enough to be heard at the front door.
“Yeah,” Mother toasted.
“Mac’s on the phone.” I told them, then told Mac, “Mother, Fab, and Phil are eavesdroppers.”
“Hi, everyone,” Mac yelled through the phone.
“I need this info ASAP. Get me the address of and a map to the mansion of a character named Doodad. Don’t mention my name. How you get the info, I don’t care. If you have to pay, you’ll get reimbursed. Right, Fab?”
Fab growled at me.
“Hopefully, I can get lucky with Joseph,” Mac said. “If not, I’ll head down to Custer’s and hit up the owner, Huff; he knows everyone. Once I get the information, I’ll get it to you.” I heard a door slam before she disconnected.
“Now that’s the attitude I like to see.” I held out my lime to Fab, who smacked it away.
“Don’t pick on Fabiana. That’s not nice.” Mother beamed at her, patting her shoulder.
I shook my head. “Mother really does love you better.”
Fab flashed me an arrogant smile.
The server rearranged the few things on the table, making room for a large platter of assorted appetizers. By the time we’d eaten one or two of each, we’d be stuffed.
The conversation turned to a serious discussion about where to find designer shoes at a discount. The stores Fab and I frequented in the past had gone out of business. It disappointed me that Phil turned out to be a lover of stilettos; even Mother wore a higher heel than me.
My phone vibrated on the table, and all eyes flew to it; I flipped it over.
“Oh no, you don’t. No business at the table unless it’s about Brad,” Mother said in a huff. “Who is it?”
“Do you have to know everything?” I asked her.
We all dissolved in laughter. Thank goodness the bar had filled up and all the tables were full; the four of us being noisy went unnoticed. I needed to slow my drinking, or I’d be contributing to the noise factor.
Fab slid my phone out from under my fingers and read the screen. “Creole wants to know where you are,” she said, punctuated with loud smoochy noises. “Let’s vote on a response.” She raised her hand. “Mine is: ‘none of your business.’” She pointed to Mother. “Next.”
“What are you wearing?” Mother said.
Everyone erupted in laughter. I wanted to bang my head on the table, but I still had my plate in front of me and didn’t want food on my forehead.
“Phil’s turn,” Fab said.
“Come and find me, big boy.” Phil swiveled her hips in her chair.
I stood and leaned over the table to grab my phone but came up empty-handed. I glared at Fab. “If you message anything back, end of friendship.”
“I sent one of those creepy smiley faces.” Fab handed it back.
My phone rang. I stared at it and waited for it to stop. Not to be denied, it rang again. Finally, I answered.
“You okay?” Creole asked.
“I… uh… this was Fab’s idea, and then… you know how Mother is, and Phil’s here, and I’m the innocent party.”
He snorted. “Where are you?”
“Putting you on speaker phone.”
“Don’t you dare,” Creole roared.
“Too late,” I said over the shouts of hello.
The server came over to find out what else we wanted. I asked for a to-go container. He scanned the table. “There’s nothing to pack up, except that little bit of shrimp in front of you. Refills, anyone?”
“No,” Creole shouted over the phone. “What’s the name of your restaurant?”
We let out a chorus of “Sshs,” fingers across our lips.
“Do you ladies have a ride home?” Creole asked.
“Mother, call Spoonly and tell him we need a flatbed with room for three autos.”
“It’s Spoonie, but you know that’s his bedroom name,” Fab whispered hoarsely.
“They’re making fun of me,” Mother said into her phone. “They think we’re old people that don’t know how to…” She cupped her hand around the phone, said something no one could hear, and giggled. Then said, starting louder and ending in a whisper again, “When people tell me I should find someone my own age, I answer: look at him.”
“You women are too much,” Phil said.
“Says the woman who’s banging the Chief of Police. Oops.” I looked down at the phone. “Damn, still connected.” I tossed the phone to Fab.
“We’re friends who enjoy a good dinner and sex. Both of us are busy, with no time for anything serious, at least right now,” Phil said.
Fab handed the phone back. “Creole hung up.”
“Liar,” I said when my phone rang again. I downed the last of my margarita and answered. “Mother just said Spoonerly is picking us up and transporting the cars.”
We all dissolved into a fit of giggles.
“Wait until I get my hands on you. You’re in big trouble—drunk as a skunk.”
Creole’s growls didn’t have the effect on me that he wanted them to when behaving was the last thing I wanted to do.
“I don’t smell like one,” I said cheerfully. “Later, will you sling me over your shoulder and carry me off, caveman style?”
* * *
Mother squealed at the top of her lungs, launching herself out of her chair into the arms of Spoon, who caught her easily.
Creole and Didier loomed over the table, arms crossed, the muscles in their jaws tensed, their eyes nothing but pissed as they made contact with each of us.
“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be setting a good example?” Spoon looked down at Mother. “We could hear you carousing the second we stepped in the door.”
“I called you, didn’t I?” Mother cooed and rubbed against him like a cat.
That brought giggles from the rest of us. Creole and Didier shook their heads.
“Come on, ladies,” Creole said. “Your rides are here.” He pulled my chair back.
Didier stood behind Fab, hands on her shoulders; she leaned back and smiled up
at him.
“We haven’t paid the bill,” Mother said.
“Spoon took care of it on the way in,” Creole told us.
We chorused, “So sweet. Thank you.”
The big man’s cheeks took on a little color.
“Wait.” Phil pushed her chair back. “I don’t have an escort.” She made a sad face.
Didier held out his hand to Phil. “If you allow Creole and me to, we’ll see you home.”
Phil took his hand and beamed at him. “I’d like that.”
Fab stuck her finger in her mouth.
Creole caught Fab’s antics, arched his brow, and wagged his finger at her.
I stood and pressed my face to Creole’s chest. “Happy you showed up. Riding with you is way better than in the cab of a flatbed.”
His laugh sent shivers down my spine.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Didier put a glass of some green concoction down in front of me. “You’ll feel better,” he said.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes, I had a bit of a headache, but I’d done nothing to deserve this. I opened one eye. The Frenchman glared down at me, arms crossed. I ignored him, got a water out of the refrigerator, and slid onto a stool.
Creole came down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“I want him arrested—” I jabbed my finger at Didier. “—for attempted murder.”
Creole’s eyes landed on the glass; he took a sip, downed it, and licked his lips. “You owe me, buddy; I just drank the evidence.”
“Fab drank hers,” Didier said.
“Sure she did,” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster. “Did you actually see her? Or did you leave the room, and when you came back, there sat the empty glass?”
Didier scowled at Fab as she glided into the kitchen. You’d never know the woman had tossed back a couple of martinis the night before, encouraging Mother to be her most outrageous. As she slid onto a stool, her phone vibrated, dancing on the island countertop. She eyed the screen and ignored it. I grabbed it out from under her hand.
“Oh look, her other boyfriend: Toady.” I held the phone next to my cheek and stroked the side. “Bon juree, ma petito,” I said into the phone, hitting the speaker button.
Hurricane in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 10) Page 21