“That’s good to hear.” Holly waved and rushed inside, as the kids had begun to scream at the top of their lungs.
After triple checking to make sure the gate was secured behind me, I drove to the end of the block and picked up Fab. This time, I slid out and was about to round the front of the car when Fab pulled me into a hug. “Don’t be sad. You’ll have another visit soon.” She tugged my hair. “I’m stopping for coffee.”
“Did you get everything—pictures, audio, video?” I asked.
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” she asked in faux annoyance. “Mila’s adorable. I got great shots—Brad’s going to be happy.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
On the way home, I called Brad and reported every detail about the visit. Fab snapped her fingers, wanting to speak to him. She assured him she’d have everything ready for him in the morning and told him he was invited for breakfast and needed to stop on the way and pick it up. I growled, which she rewarded with an eyeroll before ignoring me, finishing her conversation with Brad, and hanging up without asking if I wanted to talk to him again.
“Why did you pass the turn to the house?” I asked.
“Because we need to make a stop at the funeral home,” Fab said, as though it were a no-brainer.
“You make it sound like a trip to the grocery store for bread.”
Fab took her phone from the cup holder, handing it to me. “Call Raul, tell him to put Dickie on the other line, and you can tell them both they can go to… That we’re not interested in helping them anymore, even after all they’ve done for us. For good measure, toss in, ‘You’re both weird.’”
I threw her phone on the floor and stomped on it.
Fab shrieked, pulled to the side of the road, and jumped out, running around and reaching for the door. I clicked the locks.
“Open the damn door.” When I didn’t respond, she drew her leg back, and I powered down the window about an inch, yelling through the crack, “You kick my car, and I’ll sledgehammer your Porsche.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
Probably, but I was certainly enjoying myself.
Fab went back around to the driver’s side. She hadn’t closed the door all the way and reached in to pull the keys from ignition, then went back around. When she was just about to insert the key in the lock, I unlocked the doors. Steam blowing out of both her ears, she jerked the door open, almost pulling it off the hinges, and snatched her phone off the floor.
I watched out the windshield as she paused in front of the car, running her finger over the screen. She shot me her “mean girl” glare times two and stomped back to the driver’s side, sliding behind the wheel. “How old are you?” she snapped.
“Twelve. Maybe ten.” I turned my head towards the side window and smiled at my reflection.
“Thank you for not ruining my phone.” She hit the gas, sending the SUV jerking forward, and raced to the signal, and to my surprise, not ignoring the red light.
“Do you know what the funeral boys want?”
“A guy they just buried has somehow climbed out of his box and is wandering around again.”
“Before or after he was buried? Probably before. He’d have a tough time digging his way to the top… unless he’s a rodent of some sort.”
Fab hit the steering wheel and, to her obvious disgust, laughed. “You’re the planner—you’ve got time to come up with something.”
“Sooo, you want me to put on my ‘looking for a dead guy that’s not really dead’ hat? If it were cremation, that would make a bit more challenging.” I let out a few spurts of laughter. “I don’t want coffee. I’ll take something sugary.”
“I know just the place.” She hooked a u-turn into the drive-through of our favorite coffee house and ordered a latte and lemonade. We didn’t have to wait long since they weren’t busy.
I sucked down most of mine before we got to Tropical Slumber Funeral Home, an old hot dog stand that had morphed into a business dedicated to meeting all your final needs, including a crematorium and pet cemetery.
Fab rolled up to the red carpet that ran from the parking lot to the front door and parked. “A classy touch, don’t you think?” Didier had mumbled when he first saw it. I couldn’t recall my response, so there probably wasn’t one and I’d instead opted to paste on an almost-sincere smile.
I got out, waving to Raul, who stood in the doorway. I stuck my head back in the car and said, “You better have come up with something because I sure as heck haven’t.” I shut the door without waiting for a response, betting that she didn’t have a plan either.
Astro and Necco barreled out the door, skidding to a stop at my feet. “Hey guys.” I scratched the necks of the two Dobermans. “The three of us—” I circled my finger around me and the two dogs. “—are hoping that there’s some funeral eats in the lobby.”
“You’re in luck,” Raul said. “We had a service this morning, and Dickie packed up the food and left it on a platter for you. You’re spoiling the dogs.”
“I’ll only give them one. Or, since they’re probably tea sandwiches, maybe two.”
“No wonder the dogs adore you. You’re synonymous with treats and head scratches.” Raul smiled fondly.
“Won’t kill them,” Dickie grumped, motioning us inside.
I passed Dickie with a hello. “There’s napkins on the table.” He motioned to the large circular table that sat in the middle of the entry. I headed straight for the platter of sandwiches, the two dogs plastered to my leg, and snuck two off the plate, holding them down by my side… and when no one was looking, fed them two more. I ended up passing on the sandwiches and instead helped myself to a couple of cookies, then claimed my favorite plastic slip-covered chair next to the door. The dogs laid on my feet and went to sleep.
Fab circled the room, looking for intruders—dead people walking? Who knew with her. She stuck her head into the viewing rooms. I suspected they were empty, as she didn’t linger.
I wanted to go home, and to that end, instead of whining, I said, “Fab gave me the short version. What is it you want us to do?”
Dickie, who’d been pacing, hands fidgeting, spoke up. “Raul and I were out for dinner. When we were standing under the restaurant portico, we caught sight of Dow Gibbons, whom we buried three weeks ago, meandering across the parking lot. Surprise! Shock! By the time the valet delivered our car, he’d disappeared.”
“Was he buried locally?” Fab asked.
“Transported him to Homestead,” Raul said. “Since we figured you’d ask… and, well, we wanted to know, as well, we drove to the cemetery and checked out the burial site. It hasn’t been disturbed.”
“Maybe a twin?” I suggested.
“Dow made arrangements for his own service ahead of time—there was no mention of any family members. And we would’ve noticed if someone showed up at the funeral looking like the deceased,” Didier said.
“Could be a doppelganger thing,” Fab said, pleased with her idea.
“Any friends show up at the funeral?” I asked. “Anyone inquire about Dow after the service?”
Dickie shook his head to both questions. “This could ignite a storm of bad publicity and ruin our business.” He ran his hand through his shorn hair. “We don’t want to get into any trouble, legal or otherwise. If word gets out that we buried the wrong person, it’s bad for business, and we could get closed down pending an investigation.”
“I’ve never had a request to find a dead person before,” Fab said and turned to me.
I shrugged. Don’t look at me. “We can run a couple of checks and see if anything comes back. This might be a case of letting sleeping ghosts lie.”
“You need to work on your funeral humor.” Raul’s lips twitched.
I’ll be sure and do that. I smiled weakly, since this was another time I had no clue how to respond.
“We’ll do our best, but I don’t want to give you false hope that we’ll be able to come up with anything.” Fab counseled Raul: “In the mean
time, don’t worry so much. The man you buried was dead?” Raul nodded. “I’m certain you followed all the rules, and that’s all that can be expected.”
Both Dickie and Raul nodded.
“On the upside, it hasn’t made headlines.” Heads turned in my direction. Apparently that wasn’t helpful.
Raul handed Fab a piece of paper containing all the information they had for Dow Gibbons. My guess was that if Raul and Dickie had managed to track the man they’d seen down, up close, they’d see similarities but would know it wasn’t Dow.
Raul and Fab hugged.
Dickie and I waved.
Back in the car, I powered down the window. Fab leaned across me and waved before shooting out of the parking lot.
“Those two need to chill,” I said before Fab could ask. “If no one’s asking questions, they should let the dog sleep.”
“We’ll have GC run a report—hopefully that will make them happy.”
“Be sure you tell GC he’s tracking a dead guy. That will move your request to the top of the pile.” Fab better not be thinking that I was going to call and ask. “The boys are planning a party at Jake’s—hopefully they’ll get caught up in the details and forget about dead-or-alive Dow.” I told her about them renting out Jake’s for a funeral-givers get-together.
“I’d prefer one of those arranged fights of Kelpie’s.”
“Kelpie has to be threatened not to arrange one of those every other night. She marches to whatever music’s going on in her head.” When Fab half-laughed, I said, “I thought it sounded better than demons. The regulars love her. She’s good for the bottom line, and no one’s ended up dead.”
“If shootings are good for revenue, imagine how much a few dead people would bring in.”
“Can you believe that people flock in at the mere mention of dead people, and blood spots attract even more of them? They take pictures to commemorate the special moment that they’d had no part of and would be disappointed to know that, most times, was highly exaggerated.”
Traffic was light on the way back to the house. When we hit the corner, Fab complained that Didier wasn’t home. I needed to check in with Creole, as his truck was nowhere in sight either.
Inserting the key in the lock, I asked, “When will the Mila footage be ready?”
“I’m going upstairs now to put it together. Don’t worry, Brad’s going to be happy.”
“I’d like a peek, but I’m not asking, because Brad should be the first to see everything.” I kicked my shoes into the boot tray.
“You’re a good sister.”
“He’s damn lucky that he has both of us willing to turn over whatever rocks we come across. Thank goodness he got over himself and gave the thumbs up for our help. Probably because he knew I’d just do it anyway.” I sat on the daybed, rearranged the cats, which garnered a meow, and propped a pillow behind my head. “While you’re working, I’m going to text the guys and figure out dinner.”
Fab made a face.
“It’s not like I’m asking you to cook.”
Fab laughed on her way up the stairs.
Chapter Thirty
Brad unlocked the door and walked in, loaded down with shopping bags from the Bakery Café, everyone’s favorite for breakfast. He’d inherited the Westin gene for buying too much food and put everything on the countertop next to where Creole was making coffee.
“You think of this on your own?” Didier asked, sticking his nose in one of the bags.
“Heck, no. Your girlfriend said if I didn’t bring food, no pictures.”
Didier turned and growled, “What?” Fab sat at the island, an innocent look on her face, ignoring Didier and at the same time swaying out of his reach.
Brad grinned over Didier’s shoulder.
“Did you leave anything for the Café’s other customers?” I peered into a bag, then looped them over my arm and gave Brad a shove towards the patio.
“Warning: I’m taking home the leftovers,” Brad said.
“That’s fair.” I set them on the outside counter. I’d set the table earlier so we could enjoy the sunny morning poolside.
Creole carried out a large pot of coffee, and Didier brought a tray with orange juice, flavored water, and a bowl of fresh fruit.
Brad lined up the boxes down the middle of the table and flipped up the lids, buffet-style. “I think I know what you like but ordered extra just in case.”
I spotted the box with the soufflés that Fab and I liked and snapped my fingers, pointing it out to her.
There wasn’t a lot of talking as we sat around the table eating.
“It’s fun having you for breakfast.” I side-hugged Brad.
“When you called yesterday, I wanted more details about your visit but was in an intense meeting with Bordello. Thought it would never end, and when it did, it was late.”
“Partnership getting any better?” Didier asked.
“You know the old saying about it being a bad idea to mix business and pleasure? Sums up the situation. Since my relationship with Phil has deteriorated, so has the one with Bordello, and the criminal charges made it worse.” Brad poured the last of the coffee in his cup and held the pot out to Fab.
Creole laughed and grabbed it. “Not a word until I grab the backup pot.” He unplugged it from the counter and brought it back to the table.
“Bordello hasn’t actually said he thinks I’m guilty, but if I read into what he doesn’t say, then he definitely thinks I murdered Patty. He certainly passed judgment on my choice of women.” A deep rumbling sigh came from his chest. “What really annoyed me was that yesterday, he asked a couple of questions about the case that he clearly already knew the answers to. That can only be because he has someone checking up on me.”
“I’d like to shoot him for you, but it’s illegal, and so is feeding him to an alligator.” Fab sighed.
The guys laughed.
“Since you’ve never asked for advice, I’m offering it for free now.” Which garnered more laughs. Fab stuck her nose in the air. “Be the get-along guy until your problems are behind you. Then you can make decisions with a clear head. In no way do you ass-kiss.”
“What do you know? Good advice.” Creole winked at her.
“I’m certain I haven’t said thank you enough for everything you’ve done since I got arrested.” Brad reached over and patted Fab’s hand. “I appreciate every single thing. Nothing has escaped my notice. One thing about being suspected of murder—it’s made me more attentive than ever to the people in my life. Threw out the tinted glasses when it comes to assessing people and looked more at what they don’t say.”
Creole clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re all here for you. Don’t hesitate to call, day or night. We’re used to middle-of-the-night calls, aren’t we?” He smirked at me.
“I learned the hard way, and I’m not taking anything at face value. Friendship like this—” Brad circled his finger. “—is rare. I don’t have to worry about what any of you is going to do behind my back.”
Fab lightened the mood by telling the guys about me pranking her by stomping on her phone and locking her out of the car. When she was done, the guys were laughing and giving me thumbs ups.
I smiled at her, wanting to hug her.
Eventually, Creole and I cleaned off the table and I repacked the food, of which there wasn’t much left.
Fab disappeared upstairs and came back down with her laptop, setting it down in front of Brad. She slid into the chair next to him.
“Here are the pictures I promised from Madison’s visit with Mila.” She put a USB drive in his hand. “This is a surprise, which I didn’t tell you about because I wasn’t sure how the finished product would turn out.”
Brad adjusted the screen so everyone could see and motioned for us to sit. “We can all watch this together.” He patted the seat next to him for me.
“Even though I was there, I’d like to get a copy, if that’s okay,” I said to Fab and Brad.
“I’l
l need one of these for Mother.” Brad pointed to his shirt pocket, where he’d put the drive. “Been dragging my feet long enough and finally called. Her suspicious nature went into overdrive when I suggested a mother/son lunch.”
“What did you tell her?” I asked.
“What?” He threw up his hands. “I don’t need an excuse to take my mother to lunch.”
“Except in this case.” I laughed. “If that’s what you said, no wonder she went into alert mode.”
“I sweetened the outing by telling her we could go looking for trouble, maybe find a police sting going down. At which she laughed and said she’d be carrying. What she doesn’t know is that I’m taking her gun away before we get out of the car.”
“When’s your date?” I asked.
“She and Spoon are out on the boat and will be back late this afternoon, so we’re on for tomorrow. Can you deliver before then?” he asked Fab.
“I can do better.” Fab pulled another drive out of her pocket and handed it to him.
Brad clicked on the video. Not taking his eyes off the screen, he watched as Mila jumped down the steps at the back of the house where she lived. After a minute, he turned it off. “I’ll watch the rest of this later. If that’s okay.” His voice was choked with emotion.
I stood and threw my arms around his neck from behind. “Of course it is. Think about making a few selfie videos—something fun you can share with Mila. Show her how cool you can be. She’ll adore it, especially as she gets older and wants to look back at how her dad acted when she was younger.”
“I can’t believe I had a part in creating such a cute little thing.” Brad absently touched the laptop screen. “Thank you for finding her.”
“You’re going to be so good at this dad thing.” I blinked back tears.
“Mila’s the lucky one,” Fab said. “She’s going to have a large family that dotes on her.”
Didier clapped Brad on the back. “How about a run?”
“I just want some alone time.” Brad scooped Fab up in a bear hug, twirled her around and set her back on her feet. “Thank you for all your sneakiness. With the help of you and Madison, one day, I’ll be able to take Mila home.”
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