“What’s new?” I asked Zach.
“Winding it up early. How about dinner?”
“No, thanks. I’m tired; going to bed early.”
Fab moved her chair next to mine, so she could listen.
“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Zach said. “The one time I’m not waking you up in the middle of the night and you’re tired.”
“I’m tired of you running to my mother with your stupidness. You need to be reminded that Elizabeth, your friend, loved Creole and he’s now a family member and not going anywhere. You have a problem with Creole, talk to him. Would that be so hard?”
“My problem is with him involving you in anything illegal.”
Fab hung on every word.
His high and mighty attitude drove me crazy. “Do you ever do what I tell you to do?” I yelled. “No! Do you even listen? No! Talk to Creole. You two are worse than high school girls.”
“You’re sticking up for him?” Zach yelled back. “Who’s your boyfriend?”
“You still are. I’m not kicking you to the curb for a shinier model. But you do make my ass tired.”
Fab covered her face and laughed.
Zach paused. “You just make that up?”
“That was my grandmother’s way of saying you’re about to get your butt kicked if you don’t settle down.”
“You can kick my butt anytime you’d like.”
“Laugh now. It won’t be all that pleasant.” I hung up the phone.
“I love listening to the two of you fight.” Fab laughed.
“Happy to be a source of amusement.”
“Creole is nice enough, but I don’t trust him. The biggest red light? He doesn’t check out and you’re ignoring that fact. Zach might be right about this one.”
“I’m going swimming. Want to come?”
“I know your looks too. What do you know about Creole that I don’t?” Fab yelled as I disappeared into the house.
CHAPTER 29
“You need to stay in the car.” Fab screeched into a vacant space in front of the Bakery Café. People sitting on the sidewalk turned to stare.
“You’re buying my next set of tires. Don’t come back without my usual,” I reminded her as she leaped out of the SUV.
Fab disappeared inside. I counted to five and followed her in. There was zero chance she’d ever ‘stay’ in the car if I asked her to. I spotted her in the corner at the back of the café with Gunz, both of them facing the door. Gunz shoved a manila envelope across the table and at the same time, I slid into a chair in front of them.
“Not one word of argument. I should’ve known it was too good to be true that you’d do as I asked,” Fab said.
“You must be the ID expert.” I smiled at Gunz. “That’s useful to know. I might need your services one day.”
“Why would I help you?” He looked only slightly amused, his eyes steely.
“Because I’m a useful person to know. And I know how to keep my mouth shut, Theodore.”
“We’re leaving.” Fab nodded to Gunz.
“Bald looks better than the painted on hair,” I told him.
“You sure?” He ran his hands over his head. “What do you think?” Gunz asked Fab.
“Have you lost your mind? I need a double espresso.” Fab pulled my arm.
* * *
Fab and I pulled into a parking space at the far end of the convenience store, and she left the engine running. “What if Rachel doesn’t show?”
“According to Brick, Sabrosa’s threats to kill her have escalated along with the violence. Rachel doesn’t want to leave her son unprotected when he makes good on his threats. All she needs to do is follow Brick’s instructions and Sabrosa will never find her. Like witness protection, only better.”
“Why Chunkster’s?”
“No cameras. The ones that line the streets are decoration only, like the Christmas lights that never get taken down.” Fab pointed. “There she is.”
“What’s with the crappy Taurus?” It was an old grey eyesore, dented and rusted. “Isn’t her husband an executive at Cove Bank?”
“It’s all about control.” Fab pulled up alongside of her, and we both jumped out.
“We both snuck out two suitcases each,” Rachel said. “They’re in the back.”
“I’ll get them, Mom,” Michael offered, grabbing a suitcase.
“Crap.” Fab pointed to Julie who was coming across the parking lot towards us. “You make sure she doesn’t tell anyone,”
I cut Julie off before she got a good look at Rachel and Michael. “I need to ask a big favor.”
“Anything. Are you in trouble?” Julie looked confused.
“Just promise me, you won’t tell anyone you saw the four of us together. I don’t want to be rude but turn around and walk away.”
“I won’t say a word.” Julie turned and left.
It took a minute to pile the suitcases in the back. Rachel winced in pain when she grabbed her purse; her wrist hung at an odd angle. “What the hell happened?” I whispered. “Michael you ride in the front and remind Fab to slow down once in a while.”
I got in the back with Rachel. “You need a doctor.”
Fear filled her eyes. “Don’t say anything, we can’t stop now. Sabrosa will find out and there will be no second chance. If I see a doctor, he’ll find me for sure.”
I pulled my trusty aspirin bottle out of my purse. “Here. These will take the edge off. I’ll call Brick. He’ll make arrangements for you to see a doctor in San Diego.”
“Mr. Famosa’s done too much already,” Rachel said.
“One more thing won’t kill him.” A scarf hung out of her purse. I pulled it out, untied it and wrapped it around her wrist for support. Hardly adequate but maybe better than the constant pain from the slightest motion.
Rachel looked like a woman on the edge. Her large sad eyes, and long dark hair, reminded me of an art print that had once been popular. Hopefully, one day soon she could smile for real.
Who knew Fab would be great at entertaining Michael? She kept him laughing, pointing out stupid drivers in traffic. To my surprise, she didn’t constantly change lanes or make the non-existent stop at the stop signs.
“I admire your strength, protecting your son in such a bold way,” I whispered to Rachel.
“Why do I feel like a coward?”
“Because you wanted things to go differently. You have to accept there are some things you can’t control. You’re making the best decision for you and Michael. Your son would not be better off with a dead mother.”
“You know the right things to say,” Rachel said.
“It took me a long time to learn that my determination alone wasn’t enough when it comes to a relationship between two people.” I learned this in my life with Jax.
“I called the police once,” Rachel whispered. “They could’ve cared less. When they left, that’s when he told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone or tried to get away. I didn’t think I’d survive the beating that followed.” She turned away, wiping her eyes.
“You’re safe now. You do what Brick tells you and Sabrosa will never find you.” And if he does, Brick would surely have him killed, if it isn’t too late.
Rachel rested her head against the seat, closing her eyes. I listened to Fab and Michael joke around. A Volvo cut Fab off, causing her to pull suddenly into the next lane. To her credit she didn’t chase after the driver and run him off the road.
Fab pulled up to a private gate at the edge of the airstrip. She inserted an access card, the gates opened and she drove the short distance to the hangar.
Looking at the clock on the dashboard, we were right on time. The pilot stood talking to a mechanic. I grabbed Rachel’s purse and helped her out, hanging it over her shoulder. The pilot and Michael grabbed the suitcases, carrying them to the plane.
“Enjoy your new life.” I smiled at Rachel. “It’s going to take a while for you to stop looking over your shoulder. Be patient
with yourself. If you ever need anything, you can call Fab or myself.” I handed her one of our business cards. “There’s only a phone number on this card. Call and leave a message. If anyone ever finds it, it won’t do them any good and the number can’t be traced.”
“Thank you, both,” Rachel said, with tears in her eyes that darted around nervously. She hugged Fab.
Fab, to her credit, didn’t squirm away. “Just remember to follow instructions and you’ll be fine.”
We watched Rachel and Michael board the plane, and waited for the doors to close. Fab and I waved to Michael who had his face pasted to the window as they taxied away.
“You need to call Brick and arrange for her to see a doctor. That bastard broke her wrist.”
“Brick should’ve made him disappear, instead of them,” Fab said.
“I agree.”
* * *
Fab cut across the safety zone on I-95 making her usual last minute swerve to exit the freeway.
“Why are we getting off here? I want to go home.” I needed to make a note of this area; the shopping looked good. It was a trendy area with boutique stores, outdoor dining and a neighborhood book store.
“Stop whining. We’re repossessing a Mercedes for Brick,” Fab informed me.
“Two jobs in one day? And that last one was emotionally draining. How about asking?”
“It’s a surprise.” Fab gave me a creepy smile. “Like one of yours.”
“The last time we jacked a car, it was all fun and games until the guns came out. What’s the deal with this one?”
“One Mr. Marcos rented a Mercedes six months ago, returned it and then it got stolen, within a few minutes. Brick thinks he’s the thief and has been chasing it ever since.”
“Why not file grand theft auto charges? That’s what normal people do.” I shook my head. “Why does Brick think he still has the car?”
“Something shady about this deal. Brick’s clientele tend towards the criminal element.”
“Really?” I said, sarcastically. “Do you suppose he meets them at one of his upstanding businesses such as the naked bar or, I know, the bail bond business?” A good question would be, “Is Brick on the legal up and up?”
“Calm down. He did pay you big for that other fiasco.”
“You know how everyone has their price of what they’ll risk going to jail for? Mine is nothing.”
The look on Fab’s face told me she didn’t believe me. “Video surveillance corroborates Marcos’ story that he parked the Mercedes on the lot, and dropped the keys in the box. He drove off. Two seconds later, two men walked up, used a key, and drove away. They were savvy enough to avoid getting their faces on camera.”
“So we’re chasing a couple of car thieves? Sounds dangerous.”
“There are two of us. What could go wrong? I’ve already checked out two other addresses; no Mercedes. Casio spotted the Mercedes two days ago, Marcos behind the wheel, cruising around Miami. By the time Casio got turned around, Marcos vanished. Brick just got this new address from some thug who owes him money, and asked me to stop and look around.”
“This guy, Marcos, he thought Brick would just give up? That’s a man who doesn’t know Brick Famosa very well.” How long did it take to check out a property? Maybe five minutes and we’d back on the freeway.
We turned onto brick paved streets. They looked good but made for a bumpy ride. The several block area was charming, filled with one hundred-year-old, historic homes. Fab slowed in front of a renovated green Craftsman, white trim with the signature wide porch that swept across the front. A wrought iron fence ran along the property lines and across the top of the driveway; a double-car garage behind the fence, which was wrapped with a chain. In the driveway, a pick-up and a Volvo were parked outside of the fence, one behind the other.
“What’s the plan?” I asked Fab. “Neither of those cars is a Mercedes.”
“Brick seemed so sure. Let’s get out, walk up the driveway and get a look in the back.”
“Not very friendly people, are they? There’s no gate bell or any way to get the attention of anyone in the house.” I scanned the front of the property. “No mailbox either. I bet the post office loves that. Are we talking drug dealer here?”
“I’m not liking this either. I’ll go around the cars for a quick look in the backyard and we’re out of here,” Fab said.
“What are you going to do, climb over the hoods?” I asked Fab as she maneuvered around the pickup and was already halfway up the drive.
On the other side of the fence, a Doberman suddenly stood up, snarling and barking. An older woman pulled back the curtains of a large picture window that overlooked the front yard and driveway, and stared at Fab.
Fab managed to squeeze her way up to the fence. “The Mercedes is here. It’s parked on the far side of the garage,” she called to me.
I stood behind the truck a couple of feet away, when another Doberman, twin to the one behind the fence, stood up. It didn’t move or bark but stared me down. That unnerved me more than the one that wanted to tear us both to bits. Stepping back slowly, I stammered, “Uh, Fab… time to go. There’s a second Doberman, this one on our side of the fence. The woman standing in the window doesn’t appear to be coming to our rescue.”
“Where’s the damn dog?” Fab yelled.
Twin Doberman had lost interest in me as soon as I began to retrace my steps. “Coming your way, around the front of the Volvo.” I pulled out my gun. “Back up slowly. I’ll shoot him if I have to.”
The back door flew open, and the woman stepped onto the back porch, racking her shotgun. “You shoot my dog and you’re a dead bitch!” she screamed at me. The dog guarding the Mercedes had gone into a non-stop barking frenzy, jumping at the fence, and showing no signs of calming down.
The dog probably got his evil stare from the woman. “We’re leaving!” I yelled. “Call your dog off. I’ll only shoot if he goes after my friend.”
“Porn Queen, stay,” she called. Then turning to us, she hollered, “Either one of you comes back again, and I’ll shoot your ass before you get up the driveway.”
Fab reached my side. “Let’s get the hell out of here.” The dog on our side lay back down.
“Hey, bitches, we’re keeping the car,” she cackled before going in and slamming the back door.
“You bill that bastard Brick triple!” I yelled at Fab.
To her credit, she didn’t squeal down the street. “Brick doesn’t pay for incomplete jobs.”
“I don’t give a damn.” I tried not to yell. “New policy starting now: he pays, incomplete or not. If dogs or guns are involved, the bill goes up. Time for a meeting and I’ll happily explain the new terms to him.”
“That squinty-eyed look you get when you’re mad scares even me,” Fab said.
“Jail and now this. What I really want to do is shoot Brick Famosa. We could’ve come here and checked this out, knowing in advance what to expect.”
“Before you shoot him, keep in mind he pays in cash,” Fab said.
“How do we spend it, if we’re dead or worse?”
CHAPTER 30
Fab swung into Famosa Motors, damn near side swiping one of Brick’s over-priced sports cars. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m amazed at your connections,” I said as I grabbed a recently acquired duffle bag off the backseat.
“Brick’s in his office. I see him standing at the window, talking on his phone.” Fab pointed.
“No need to call him,” I told Bitsy the receptionist as we passed by her desk. “He knows we’re here.” Her cloying perfume followed us to the stairs.
“Is she new?” Fab whispered. “If I had those boobs, my back would hurt.”
“Bitsy and her two friends are good for business. Nothing fazes her as far as I can tell. Always smiling. How exhausting is that?”
We walked up the spiral stairs. Brick’s office boasted a sweeping view of the entire car lot. I wished he had office doors ju
st so I could have the juvenile satisfaction of kicking them open. We entered uninvited. I set my bag down on the floor, unzipped it, and then sat in one of the crappy, uncomfortable chairs in front of his desk.
“The Mercedes is at the address you gave me,” Fab told him. “Did you know about the chained fence and the Dobermans?”
“Look, girls, some of these jobs aren’t easy.” Brick looked at me. “You need to man up if you want to be a tough girl.”
I leaned down and took a Mossberg 500, pump action shotgun out of the bag. On the way to Brick’s, Fab made a quick stop, in and out with the gun in less than three minutes. I stood and racked it, the sound reverberating off the walls. “A man would shoot your ass!” I said evenly. “Enjoying this? Fab and I sure as hell didn’t when the old lady pointed her rifle, shouting threats.”
“Nobody pulls a gun or rifle on me,” Brick yelled and pushed his chair back.
“Sit down. This is the second job we’ve done where one of us could’ve ended up dead. And let’s not forget your little delivery job that ended up with me getting arrested.”
“That’s not…,” he interrupted.
“Shut up. New rules. You pay whether or not the job gets done. In the case of extenuating circumstances like tonight, such as Porn Queen the Doberman and-or when guns come out, there’s an up charge. Cash, no credit, no checks.” I tightened my grip when my hand started to shake. It finally occurred to me I’d lost my mind.
“Is that thing loaded?” Brick yelled.
“You betcha.” I pointed the rifle downward. “The fee is triple; pay us now and we’ll leave. You reach for a checkbook and I’ll shoot you.”
He flipped the locks on his briefcase and tossed Fab a plain white envelope. He opened his side drawer and threw her another identical envelope.
“Madison,” Fab whispered.
Fab’s voice brought me back to reality. I had checked rational thought at his office door. Consumed with anger, it was time to leave before I blew his guts all over his leather chair. I packed the rifle back in the bag.
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