“Do you think we can pull this off without involving the law or getting into any trouble?” Fab looked hopeful.
“With you involved?” I arched my brow.
The front door flew open. “Fabiana Merceau!” Didier bellowed. My stomach sank; the man didn’t sound happy. I’d never heard him yell like that.
Didier marched into the living room, Creole right behind him, both of them in bicycle attire, covered in sweat. Fab looked at him in surprise.
“Why isn’t the GPS working—again?” Didier bit off, glaring down at her.
I narrowed my eyes at Creole and gave him a dirty look, knowing damn well this must be the “surprise” he mentioned a while back.
Fab made a few sounds in French.
Didier cut her off. “English! I’m sure your best friend would like to hear the answer.”
I already knew but didn’t think it prudent to mention it. If I were closer, I’d whisper, “Tell the truth,” in her ear.
Fab stood. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“No!” he thundered. “Sit back down and answer the question.”
“I didn’t…” she started. “I don’t….” She stared at her angry boyfriend.
I looked down and squeezed my eyes shut. Fab was going to lie. She had to know that Didier already knew the truth and she needed to cough it up, no matter how uncomfortable.
After a long pause, she blurted, “I disconnected it.”
“Why? I know you don’t give a damn about your safety since you think you’re invincible, but what about Madison?” He was still angry but not yelling.
She reverted to French, as she always did when she spoke to Didier. He cut her off with a curt gesture.
“How many units have you dismantled? Driven over?” Didier demanded. “You still haven’t offered a good reason for it.”
Creole turned and went into the kitchen, pulling up a stool.
“Would anyone…” I started and saw Creole shake his head. The hell with him; he started this mess. “How about a cold drink?” I offered, hoping to lighten up the awkward silence.
Didier smiled for the first time. “No, thank you.”
Creole wiggled his finger at me, but I ignored him. If he wanted something, he was sitting in the kitchen; he could get it himself.
“I don’t like that your ass… your friend over there is keeping tabs.” Fab’s words were tinged with bitterness. “As hard as this might be for you to believe, just today I thought about not doing it again.”
Didier put one finger under her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes. “I love you. I just want you to be safe.”
Fab whispered back a response.
Didier held out his hand, helping Fab to her feet. “You—” he pointed at me, “should also be mindful of your safety. I’m sure Creole will have plenty to say.” He glanced over his shoulder at his friend.
“That will be difficult, since I’m not speaking to him,” I said.
Fab smiled, and I winked back.
Chapter 29
A rustling noise from the top of the stairs made me crack open an eye to see if it was Fab or Didier who had the insomnia. Creole had gotten a phone call before we could discuss the drama that had unfolded in the living room. After he exchanged a few terse sentences with someone, he gave me a toe-curling kiss and whispered against my lips, “I’ll make this up to you. All of it.”
After he left, I lay on the daybed with Jazz’s head on my chest, too tired to walk upstairs to my bedroom, and read until my eyes closed.
The nightlight illuminated a long, hairless leg as it came into view. I shook my head, thinking the woman couldn’t stay out of trouble for five minutes. “Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?”
Fab squealed, peering over the banister. “You scared the hell out of me.”
I inwardly groaned. The blue jeans thrown over one arm and tennis shoes in her hand meant an unsanctioned night job. “Pretty underwear.”
“Bought it special for Didier.” She twirled around, showing off the small piece of black lace and string.
“I bet you have the cleanest butt in town, since you floss every day.”
“You’re disgusting.” She scowled, tossing her shoes on the floor and skinnying into her jeans.
“If I were standing, I’d curtsy. Does Didier know you’re slinking out into the night? You think it’s a good idea to go out by yourself after the safety talk?” I rolled onto my side, facing Fab exasperated with her and tired of wringing the details of her escapades out of her when she snuck back in.
“I’d like to know where you’re going!” Didier barked from the top of the stairs, shirtless, his hair tousled.
“You two sleep like dead people and you’re both awake?” Fab took a step towards Didier.
It shocked her when he held up his hand. “You want to sneak around, go ahead.” He started back up the stairs.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Come back and let me explain.”
“If this is about your insomnia, I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that story.” He leaned against the banister, not taking a step in either direction.
I relocated Jazz and stood up. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”
“Sit back down.” She motioned to me. “You might as well hear this. I have chronic insomnia, and that was never a lie,” she insisted. “Once I wake up, I rarely go back to sleep. I lay in the dark and think about my cases and sometimes come up with a plan of action that I hadn’t given thought to or one that is better executed during non-business hours.”
“Which client?” Didier demanded.
“Will you please come down and sit?” She held out her hand.
The two engaged in a stare-down, then he moved slowly down the stairs and threw himself in a chair opposite the couch.
“It’s not a client,” she said in a soft voice. “It has to do with the man I love, and he needs my help whether he wants it or not.”
Feeling like a third wheel, I was happy to see Didier’s face relax as he exhaled his frustration. “So what’s your plan?” I asked, having a good idea what it was and hoping Didier wouldn’t flip.
“I’ve put off searching Balcazar’s offices long enough. At some point, Lauren’s office will get cleaned out, and I’ll kick myself for the missed opportunity.”
“Fabiana.” Didier ran his hands through his hair.
“I swear to you,” she held up her hand, “in and out, and I’ll come straight home. Ask Madison, these jobs are uneventful.”
Didn’t you just walk in on a man in his bed in a supposedly vacant residence? I kept silent.
“The ass you referred to earlier mentioned he’d like a go at those offices. At the time, I figured Creole mentioned the idea so I wouldn’t be surprised when you decided to sneak around and do it yourself,” Didier said.
I sucked in my breath and glared at Fab. “I’m sure you didn’t mean Creole. I never call your boyfriend names.”
Didier snapped out a laugh. “Thank you, chérie,” he said to me.
“I’ll go as backup,” I offered. “What the hell; I’m awake anyway.”
Didier shot me a glare. Right after he moved in, he’d given Mother and me a shaking finger every time we uttered a “coarse” word.
“Hell’s not so bad; it could’ve been worse,” I teased.
“I’m going. Give me five minutes to change,” Didier said. “Don’t waste time arguing. You,” he pointed at me, “need to change. I plan to learn from you how to be backup.”
“The sweat shorts are fine. Don’t forget a shirt and tennis shoes, in case you need to make a run for it,” I said over my shoulder on my way upstairs.
Chapter 30
We parked down the street from Balcazar’s beachfront headquarters. The building was dark, except for a few stray office lights that burned overhead. The bars had closed, and in addition to there being no cars on the road, there wasn’t a single person wandering the
sidewalk.
Fab drove with Didier by her side, and I rode in the backseat, stretched out, reading on my phone. The only sounds were the mumbling of the two in the front, who couldn’t be bothered to speak louder so I could eavesdrop. I was quite certain that sticking my head between the seats would earn me glares from both of them.
“You know what to do.” Fab looked at me over the headrest. “Text me if anyone shows up. I’ll message you when I’m out, and you can pick me up around the corner.” She leaned across, kissing Didier. “If you need to shoot someone, let her do it. She’s a damn good shot.”
“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this? It’s not too late,” Didier muttered.
“We can leave if you want, but I’ll just come back when you’re out of town.”
It took a minute for him to reply. “Fine.”
“Don’t worry.” Fab opened the door. “You two behave.” She put on dark sunglasses that covered most of her face and pulled her baseball cap down.
Normally, I’d crawl over the seat, but with Didier in the front, I got out and slid back in behind the wheel. “First, hard as it is, try not to worry. Keep alert for anything unusual.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “What’s really first is to text Creole our location.”
“I wanted to go with her, but she politely pointed out that I didn’t have the required skills to commit a felony and stay out of jail. What kind of man lets his girlfriend put herself at risk?” Didier stared out the windshield.
“I failed to mention that you look hot in your work clothes.” I ran my eyes down his long legs to his designer tennis shoes. His finely sculpted arms showed from under his short-sleeved shirt. “To heck with those designer suits.”
“Is that how you change the subject with Fabiana? Feed her ego with sweet comments?” he laughed.
“Usually I give her a double dose of sarcasm, and that snaps her right out of her funk.” I kept my eyes peeled over the steering wheel at 100 Ocean Boulevard. “If you see any lights go on or off, let me know. That would mean Fab has company.”
My phone rang, and I looked down and grimaced at the screen before answering. “What’s up?”
“What in the hell?” Creole’s voice boomed through the phone.
I wished I’d remembered to hold it away from my ear. I pulled it away and glared at it as though that would help. Didier took it from my fingers and spoke in French.
“Oh no you don’t!” I jerked it out of his hand. “On my phone, you speak English. What?” I barked at Creole.
“Hold on a minute,” Creole said. I guessed from the lack of sound coming through the receiver that he was getting his anger under control. “Let me guess…Fab broke into Balcazar’s offices, and you and Didier are lookouts?” Creole asked with fake calm.
“Yes, dear.”
Didier tugged on my hair and shook his head.
“Don’t think I won’t pay you back for my near-heart attack,” he grouched.
“If you forget, I’ll remind you.”
Creole cleared his throat. “How long has Fab been upstairs? Text her to take pictures. And you, text me as soon as she gets back in the car.”
I sent the text to Fab and hunched over the wheel, staring up. No lone figure scaling down the side of the building – that was a good sign.
I felt like I’d forgotten something. There wasn’t a checklist for this job, and I still needed to work on being patient while waiting. Surely Fab would’ve been back by now if there had been any cars in the underground parking lot. I scanned the building, but nothing had changed. The lobby was still well-lit and empty. Headlights caught my attention, and in the side mirror, I saw what looked suspiciously like a cop car roll up behind the SUV.
“Hang up,” I whispered, jerking my top over my head and leaning into Didier.
He quickly did so, then turned and looked out the back window. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to put on a show of smoochy face without actually doing it.”
Didier put his arm around me, grabbing the back of my head. “Good thing you’re wearing a bra, or this would be more awkward than it is.”
I’d enjoyed my braless days, until someone sent a group photo and my girls were the only ones that looked droopy. The next day, I went to Mother’s favorite lingerie store and got measured for one that fit correctly. To my satisfaction, they now sat in the right place.
A light flashed into the driver’s side window, followed by knocking. A man’s voice called, “Roll down the window.”
I made a show of being startled, turned, and lowered the window. “Hi….” I did a double take. “Officer Watters. Nice to see you again.” What were the chances of running into the same cop twice?
He shone his light in my face until I blinked, and then ran the beam down to my cleavage, where he lingered, and finally over to Didier.
“Miss Madison, aren’t you two a little old to be making out on the street?” Not waiting for an answer, he directed, “License and insurance. Of course you know that.”
“Nothing’s changed since last time.” I smiled sweetly as I handed him the documents.
“Don’t go anywhere. I’d hate to have to shoot you,” he chuckled.
His laugh unnerved me. While he returned to his car, several more police cars pulled up in front of Balcazar’s building. The officers filed out and went in separate directions, surrounding the area.
“Police,” I texted Fab, and lifted the top to the console glove box and hid it under a false bottom.
“I’m impressed,” Didier whispered. “How do you know him?”
I filled him in on the unfortunate traffic stop.
“He looks familiar, as though I’ve met him and can’t remember where…” Didier looked thoughtful.
“The last thing we want is for him to demand your identification. How would we explain being across from Balcazar’s office?”
Officer Watters came back, handing me back my identification. “Do you believe in coincidence? I don’t. And yet here we are once again.” The shuttered look on his face was unsettling. It was hard to tell if he believed the make-out story.
“Is there a problem?” I inclined my head toward the opposite side of the street, where the cops still milled around.
He ignored my question. “Have you seen anyone lurking around? Cars? Anything?”
“It’s been quiet, but then, we were mostly… um… engaged.” I hoped I didn’t sound as stupid as I felt.
“I’m going to be a nice guy and let you off with a warning. I could write you a ticket for parking in a time-restricted zone. You need to get over your bad habit of ignoring traffic signs. One fewer piece of clothing, and I could haul you in on a sex charge that would force you to register as a sex offender. Next time, get a hotel room. If you can afford a Hummer, a room shouldn’t be a problem.” He flashed his light one last time in Didier’s face.
A chill ran up my spine. He seemed to be enjoying himself. “Thank you,” I mumbled.
Once the window closed and the ignition caught, Didier said, “You need to careful of that man. He dislikes you with an intensity that surprises me, given you’ve only met him twice.”
“Maybe Creole talked to him.” I pulled out onto the deserted street. Well, deserted if you didn’t count the police cars.
“We can’t leave Fabiana here,” Didier said angrily, hauling himself around to look at the building.
“We don’t have any choice,” I hissed at him. “Officer Watters is following us. We’re going to the backup plan.”
“Do you even have one?” he snorted.
“Have a little faith. Fab wouldn’t want you to swoop in and do something chivalrous and get arrested. The last thing you need is for some cop to identify you and ask questions.” I cut him off before he could speak. “Give me a minute. I excel at what-to-do-next plans.”
With Watters on my bumper, I headed to the Z Hotel. I’d let him think I’d taken his suggestion. I’d never stayed at the five-star establishme
nt, but I’d had lunch there a couple of times. I glanced quickly at Didier. “Call Creole and ask if it’s a good idea to double back to the building on foot.”
Watters made a U-turn right after I signaled that I was turning into the hotel parking lot. Not having the nerve to park, I bypassed the lot and pulled over on a side street.
I fished out my phone and texted Fab, “You okay?” I turned on the GPS, asking it to find the closest grocery store, and smiled when one popped up within a few blocks. We could park there, and no one would ask questions.
“He’s not answering.” Didier threw his phone on the dashboard. The back popped off and the battery fell out.
My phone beeped, and I handed it to Didier.
“It says, ‘Tell Didier not to do anything stupid. This might take a while but don’t worry—well hidden.’” Didier wrapped his fingers around it, holding tight. “What now?”
“We need to hang out where we won’t be noticed and wait for Fab’s call. A fast food joint would be ideal, but most aren’t twenty-four hours anymore, so I located a market.”
“How do you know this stuff?” he asked, seeming impressed.
“Your girlfriend taught me. Fab will call and tell us where to pick her up.” I turned onto the main boulevard and headed toward the big illuminated Food Barn sign.
My phone rang between Didier’s fingers—Creole’s ringtone. “You might as well answer it. Creole can calm your nerves.”
One thing about grocery shopping: whatever time you chose to do it, day or night, there were always other people pushing a cart. I slid backwards into a space from which it would easy to keep an eye on the entire lot. Out of good manners, and stressed over the creepy Officer Watters, I climbed over the seat while Didier and Creole conversed in English and French. I lay on my side and closed my eyes, willing Fab to call.
* * *
The ringing of my phone woke me from an uncomfortable snooze in a fetal position. The screen lit up, and Fab’s face beamed back at me. I sat up and glanced outside, and was surprised to see the beginnings of daylight streaming in the SUV windows. “How much is the bail?” I asked.
Swindled in Paradise Page 17