Psycho in Paradise

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Psycho in Paradise Page 17

by Deborah Brown


  I beamed at her. “Speaking of children, you haven’t mentioned your father of late.”

  “Caspian’s in DC on business. I got him to agree to a dinner with my Florida family when he gets back, helicoptering everyone to the island.”

  “Finding out your father had moved to the Keys only after he almost ran you off the road wasn’t the way I imagined meeting him. Now that I have, I’m eager to get to know him and watch how the two of you interact.” I wanted to genuinely like the man.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t done a background check.”

  I felt my cheeks heat up. Oh, I wanted to.

  Fab smirked, as though reading my mind. “It would tell you that he’s a respected businessman and philanthropist, with no criminal record and a yacht full of money.”

  “And if his daughter were writing the report, what would it say?”

  “There’s no mistaking that we’re father and daughter. We share similar features, and basically, I’m his mini-me in guts, tenacity, and never backing down from a tough situation.” Fab smiled throughout her description. “He’d like to have more influence in my life—it grates on him when my life goes awry—but instead of harping on my mistakes, he discusses with me how it could’ve been handled better. He’s supportive, even when what he wants to do is strangle me.” She half-laughed. “Caspian had the nerve to tell me that I don’t listen. Can you imagine?”

  “Does he know about your penchant for eavesdropping?”

  “I’m certain that he knows everything about me—good and bad.” Fab blushed. “He’s never expressed disappointment or implied in any way that I don’t measure up.”

  “I’m predicting now that the dinner will be the hottest invite in the family. Also, I’m already RSVPing for me and Creole.”

  “Here comes Brad.” Fab pointed over the steering wheel. “He looks a lot more relaxed than when we got here.”

  Brad got in the back. “How about ordering takeout? We’ll eat dinner by the pool. I’ll pay—I figure you don’t invite yourself unless you’re the one with the food.”

  “I almost forgot,” Fab said. “Dinner by the pool all right, but Didier’s got that covered. First on the agenda is getting your lazy butt out for a run.”

  “As of today, I’m picking myself up out of the doldrums,” Brad said. “Mila will give me something positive to think about.”

  “That calls for a toast,” I said. “We’ll do it when you guys get back.” I turned, looking over the seat. “Did I sense a little sizzle between you and your lawyer?”

  “What’s not to like? I’d have to be dense not to notice she’s smart, funny, and oh yeah, hot. But I’m no catch. Apparently you’ve forgotten I already have a so-called girlfriend, who rarely speaks to me anymore. Forget messages, she doesn’t answer most of them.”

  “Is she the one you want to spend the rest of your life with? Make Mila’s stepmother?” I shuddered at that thought.

  No answer. Instead, he stared out the side window.

  “Don’t stress about it,” I said. “I know that the thought of a drama-filled breakup gives you hives. Let it play out; let her end it.”

  “I just might take your advice.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It had been a couple of days since the meeting at Emerson’s office, and more often than not, I caught myself staring at my phone, willing it to ring. I’d just finished my second coffee to quell my annoyance over my inability to snap my fingers and speed the process along, and the four of us were sitting outside on the patio, talking about our plans for the day. At least, they were—I’d zoned out. I was brought back to the conversation when Creole asked what I had planned.

  “Going by Jake’s to check out the biker meeting.” I turned to Fab. “Coming?”

  Creole and Didier hid their smirks behind their coffee cups but weren’t quick enough—I still saw them.

  “I’m sure I have something better to do.” In response to Didier’s frown, Fab stomped her foot.

  Most mornings, her antics would amuse me, especially if they annoyed Didier. Not today.

  I leaned over and kissed Creole’s cheek. “Later. Your house.” Without saying good-bye, I crossed the entry, grabbing my car keys, and went out the door, banging it behind me. I squealed out of the driveway in true Fab style but slowed as I turned the corner. Unleashing my frustration had relieved some of my stress, but not much.

  When I’d first heard about closing Jake’s for a private party, I hadn’t wanted to admit to having a bad feeling about the idea. But I had and still did, and it intensified when I pulled into the driveway and spotted the ambulance parked at the front door. I shook my head. Only one ambulance this time. Where were the cop cars?

  I zipped around to the back, jumped out of the SUV, and flew through the kitchen into the bar area. A woman lay on a stretcher, oxygen mask on her face, paramedics working on her.

  “What in the hell?” I snapped at Doodad, who was leaning over the bar top, resting on his elbows.

  He held his hands up. “Granted, it looks bad, but it’s not what you think. Medical emergency.”

  Kelpie sidled up next to me. “No fights. No guns.” She sounded disappointed. “Doesn’t matter. Gossip will fly, the death count will be in the hundreds, and people will flock in to get the scoop. My plan is to be vague.” The woman’s smile let me know she was proud of her idea.

  “Your sympathy overwhelms me.”

  Kelpie gave me a cross-eyed stare.

  If Fab were here, she’d be impressed.

  Doodad set a drink down in front of me. “What’s this?” I picked it up and sniffed—not tequila on the rocks.

  Kelpie snatched it out of my hand and loaded it with cherries and an orange slice, frowning at Doodad as she set it back down. “This is the way Boss Lady likes her soda.”

  I toasted Kelpie, who grinned in response. “Is the woman going to be okay?” My attention turned to the door, where the paramedics were in the process of rolling the woman outside, a couple dressed like a bride and groom by her side. I was astounded I hadn’t noticed them before. The bride had opted for a short version of a wedding dress, accessorizing with a long train that dragged on the floor. “You two need close supervision. What the heck have you cooked up now?” I demanded.

  “Refill?” Doodad held up the soda gun. I held my glass out. “The only two that knew a wedding was happening here today were the bride and groom. Surprise!” He waved his hands. “They thought it was a great idea to spring the nuptials on their biker group. Even showed with the preacher, along with the bride’s mother. I need a beer.” He grunted and poured himself a soda. “Dearly beloved…”

  I rolled my eyes at him. What would it take to get a complete explanation of what went down? “Hurry it along.”

  “Anyway. Where was I?” Doodad scratched his chin.

  “The attack,” Kelpie whispered hoarsely.

  “Oh yeah. The preacher didn’t make it past the first line before the mother had an asthma attack and lurched into the bathroom. The father of her future grandchildren got her inhaler out of her purse, and she half-assed got her breathing under control. Not enough for me. I called 911. Sadly, the preacher had another wedding—”

  “Funeral,” Kelpie interrupted.

  “Not wasting a minute, the couple asked that the service be performed in the bathroom. The club members were in unanimous support and lined the walls. So moving.” He wiped away a non-existent tear.

  “I liked when the bikers cheered—all the happiness shook the beams.” Kelpie scanned the ceiling.

  I looked up, holding my breath in anticipation of what I’d find. “Are we going to have to close for repairs?”

  From the way Kelpie stared at me, I’d have to check later to see if I’d grown an extra head. “Where’s your sense of romance?”

  I let out a snort-laugh that made me cough. “Bathroom weddings. Let’s put that in our marketing brochure.” Not that we had one, but maybe we should.

  Kelpi
e raised her hand. “It’s got my vote. We advertise weddings and let the couple choose their own special spot—bathroom, of course, kitchen, deck.”

  “Parking lot,” Doodad managed to say straight-faced.

  I frowned at my soda, wishing it had alcohol in it, or better yet, was my favorite straight up.

  Wolf, the president of the group, ambled over. “This wasn’t what we had planned, but everyone’s had a great time. We’ll be booking the bar again.”

  The look on his face didn’t match his words, so I didn’t expect to see him again. “The woman?”

  “The paramedics are transporting Mrs. Frost to the hospital at her daughter’s insistence. They seemed to think she’d be fine.”

  “Happy to hear that.”

  But Wolf’s attention had been diverted to the other side of the room. He turned and made his way over to where a group of members were waiting.

  Raul and Dickie peeked their heads inside the front door, looking surprised that we had a full house so early. Doodad whistled and flagged them over. Raul, the approachable one, had a huge smile on his face, acknowledging all of us. Dickie looked his usual self—uncomfortable in his own body.

  “We’re here for our appointment. Is this a bad time?” Raul asked. “Excellent turnout for this event, whatever it is. Not that I had any doubt that this will be the perfect venue for our party.”

  “Let’s move this into the private room. It’s the only place that isn’t standing room only.” Kelpie picked up the tray of drinks that Doodad had poured.

  It surprised me that he knew what the funeral duo enjoyed drinking. Maybe they were regulars.

  “I’ll have another of these.” I pushed my glass across the bar.

  “Two drink limit unless you have a ride home.” Kelpie let loose a guttural laugh.

  Not about to miss a minute of this meeting, I led the way down the hall. Once inside the room, I opened the doors that led out to the deck, letting fresh salty air whip through, and flipped on the ceiling fans.

  “You two doing okay?” I asked.

  “Left a message for Fab that we need a meeting,” Raul said.

  “A situation we need to discuss,” Dickie said, moving the salt and pepper shakers around in a dance.

  “We’ll handle that in private,” Raul said. “Did Doodad tell you that we’re here to rent Jake’s for a party—a get-together for our fellow directors?”

  I was about to reply when Kelpie started serving the drinks, bending down and shaking her assets nearly under the noses of Raul and Dickie. I had seen her do that before but didn’t think it part of her everyday routine. Raul took full advantage of the view while Dickie’s cheeks burned, the most color I’d ever seen in his pale face. Kelpie tucked her tray under her arm and hustled back to the bar.

  Doodad entered the room, slapping a notepad on the table. “How many people?”

  “We’ve had twenty-five responses plus their significant others, so fifty,” Raul answered. “We’re thinking dinner, drinks, and dancing.”

  I stayed silent, not wanting to point out the obvious—that Jake’s was a dive bar and what they were planning sounded fancy.

  “Band?” Doodad asked.

  “Jukebox.”

  “One question before I leave.” I pushed up my sleeve, checking my watch, giving the impression that I had somewhere to be—no one needed to know I never set the time. “Are there going to be any dead bodies in attendance?”

  Raul shook his head, squinting, clearly giving the idea thought. He looked at Dickie, who shrugged. “Some would get a good laugh out of that, but probably not all. That’s something we’d have to do at Tropical Slumber—there’d be permits to pull if we wanted to do that here, and you know how the county can be. Not to mention the families would need to give permission to use their loved ones.”

  That sounded like “no” to me, but just in case… “I hate to be a theme-killer, but I’d prefer not.”

  “I’ll make note of the idea for the next party, with a few changes, such as mannequins. We’ll have an even bigger turnout,” Raul said.

  I planned to beg off sick if any party invitation arrived from them. “It’s good to see you both. I’ll remind Fab to call.” I went back to the bar, setting my glass down. “Do you shake your assets in all our customers’ faces?”

  “Only those that tip extra.”

  “I’m afraid to ask, but what do you have up your sleeve that I haven’t seen?”

  “Nothing yet. I’ll think of something.” Kelpie winked.

  “That scares me.”

  Kelpie laughed and turned her outgoing personality on the burly man at the end of the bar, who’d just shouted, “Bartender.”

  On the way out, I paused to text Fab. “I’m taking the funeral job and billing them this time.” That would get Raul and Dickie a response before I got to the car.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  On the drive home, I got a text from GC that a girlfriend of Patty’s had been located. He included her home and business addresses. Kelly worked at a Waffle House, and her shift would be ending in a couple of hours.

  My plan once I hit the house was to shove Fab into the car, no matter how much she protested. I wasn’t going by myself to meet anyone connected with Patty. But it didn’t quite work out the way I planned. When I entered the house, the sound of splashing could be heard through the patio doors. I bent down to scratch the cats, who were sacked out in one of their prime places, which afforded them a view of the pool. It amazed me that they had little interest in exploring the backyard, about which I was happy. Occasionally, they ventured to a chaise and took a nap in the sun, but that was the extent of it.

  Didier and Fab were on floaters, playing tag, splashing water everywhere, and I didn’t want to intrude on their fun. There had been no sign of Creole’s truck when I pulled into the driveway, and I didn’t want to take the time to track him down. Instead of making my presence known, I ran upstairs to change. I’d left the house earlier in a skirt and low heels. The only change I planned to make was kicking off my less-than-comfortable shoes and replacing them with flip-flops.

  On the way to the car, I pulled my phone out and called Liam on the off chance that he had some free time. “I’ve got a job opportunity. It involves waffles and cash,” I said when he answered, then went on to explain about GC’s message.

  “This is so cool,” he said. “You shouldn’t go by yourself, since unstable people usually attract like-minded friends. And just so you know, the waffles were the seller.” Liam’s enthusiasm came through the line, making me felt less guilty, knowing he wasn’t doing it just for me.

  “I’ll text you the address. If you get there ahead of me, grab us a table and scope out the place.”

  * * *

  Traffic was light all the way to Miami, and I made it in record time, but still arrived at the restaurant after Liam. I parked next to his truck and headed in. Walking by the windows, I spotted him at a corner table and waved.

  “This is one of Kelly’s tables,” Liam said as I sat down. “You timed this right—just finished my classes for the day.”

  “Thank you for meeting me.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m always up for a little excitement.” He passed me a menu. “No hurry. I told Kelly that I’d flag her down when we were ready to order. Charmed the heck out of her and laid the groundwork for a private chat when she gets off work. Told her that I was interning in the district attorney’s office for college credit, and when my supervisor got here, we’d have a few questions.”

  I groaned. “DA? I’m a horrible influence.”

  “Not entirely sure she bought my story—she asked how much cash was involved.”

  “Informants always want money, which is why I don’t meet these people without cash in my pocket.” I put the menu back behind the napkin holder. “How’s your other job?”

  “Giving eulogies isn’t a job I admit to having.” He laughed. “Can’t beat the pay for a college kid. For anyone really. T
he kids at school think I’m getting an allowance.”

  “Mother says she attended a couple of the funerals and that you do a really good job.”

  “The last one, she brought her friend Jean. They ran into a couple of women Jean knew and ended up going out to lunch.”

  “Wonder what story she came up with for Spoon.” I laughed.

  “Her modus operandi is to weasel around her husband with some made-up story, which he always sees through. When she’s done and looking quite pleased with herself, he crosses his arms, glares, and says, ‘Now how about the truth?’ She pouts a little and then spills all.” Liam waved over the waitress. “Kelly, this is my supervisor, Madeline.” I almost laughed when he introduced me using Mother’s name. “We’re ready to order now, and we’ll wait right here for you to get off.”

  Kelly took our order, flirting with Liam the whole time.

  When she left the table, Liam said defensively, “Madeline was a good name choice. Kelly’s chances of meeting her are zero, and if she did, Grandmother would play along. Give Kelly your business card, the one that doesn’t have your name on it. I’m surprised those cards haven’t raised an eyebrow and more questions than you want to answer. Let’s face it, they’re shifty.”

  “I’m thinking that you, Mr. Charmer, should lead the conversation. Kelly’s eyes never left your face; she barely gave me a glance.”

  “This is going to be fun.” Liam grinned. “Waiting for you to get here, I made a few notes.” He pushed a napkin that he’d scribbled on across the table. “We want the deets on her friendship with Patty—the good stuff, if she wants any cash. Other friends of Patty’s? Men in particular.”

  “Great questions for your first time.” I grimaced. “Mother and Brad won’t be happy when they find out I involved you.”

  “We don’t volunteer any information. We wait for them to ask and then, of course, tell a tamed-down version of the truth. Besides…” He waved his arm. “We’re in a restaurant, what could happen?”

  “Don’t ask that.” I shuddered and pulled out my wallet. “Did you agree on a price?”

 

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