“Don’t cry.” I sniffed. “Because I’ll cry, and how will we explain happy tears to Mila?”
“Take each day as it comes.” She shook her finger at me, tapping the tip of my nose. “Rest. Relax. Overeat. Don’t be bashful about asking for whatever you want.”
I looked down as fur wound its way through my legs. “Oh…” I reached down and petted Jazz, kissing the top of his head. He meowed his annoyance and walked over to Snow, curling up next to her. “I know you, Mother—when is everyone getting here?” I looked around. “No Fab? Didier?”
“Everyone will be here for dinner, and no one better be late.” Mother sighed in exasperation. “Fab’s hunting down Cardio. I admonished her to be careful, for all the good that did. Was she listening? Half-heartedly.” Mother shook her head. “I reminded her twice that we need Cardio alive.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Two days later, there hadn’t been a single sighting of Cardio Gates. I was on edge, jumping at any little sound, and called Brad fifty times before he finally asked Creole to take my phone away.
Creole and I set up a temporary office on Mother’s patio. We commandeered her table and worked every connection we had, sending photos. Thank goodness for Fab’s penchant for photographing everything, no matter how trivial. It surprised me that she’d been able to get a couple of shots of the man in that dreary apartment of his—I hadn’t been aware she did it and, judging by the pictures, neither had Cardio.
Fab had left early for the office, promising to call in every favor owed her. “That bastard will not get away with this.”
The only new information GC had uncovered was that Cardio used an alias he’d managed to keep separate from his true identity. Folsom Diggs. That meant there was never a second man in Patty’s life—there was only Cardio.
Creole appeared in the doorway, pocketing his phone, a grim look on his face. “Cardio is dead. There was a shootout in central Miami. Thankfully, he didn’t take any officers or innocent bystanders with him.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.
“Who tipped off the cops?” I asked.
Mother and Spoon came out, and Creole pulled out a chair for her. Spoon distributed drinks, knowing our preferences without having to ask, and sat next to his wife. I only got water until I was off pain meds, my arm out of the sling.
“Toady.” Creole took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He caught sight of Cardio on a motor scooter, of all things, and followed the man, who ditched his ride behind a dumpster and hotwired a car in a grocery parking lot. Tracked him to an abandoned house that he holed up in. Patrol cars rolled up to the house, but before they attempted to make contact, Cardio started shooting.”
“Damn.” I threw my head back against the chair cushion. “That screws Brad. It’s now just my word, and I’m the accused’s sister.”
“Screw me again, did you?” Brad came through the doors, his lips quirked in amusement.
“You need to eavesdrop better,” I said. “Fab could give you some pointers.” I was surprised the neighbors hadn’t called the cops—they must not have seen Brad in his grungy beach attire, cap pulled down over half his face, aviators covering the rest.
“Fab and Didier are on their way,” Brad said. “She called with the news that Cardio’s dead, and I relayed it to my lawyer. Waiting to hear back from Ms. Grace.” He ruffled my hair and sat down next to me. “How’s your arm? You’re not coughing as much.” He stared, giving me the once-over.
I slugged him in the arm—not very hard, since he half-laughed. “Stop blaming yourself for me getting shot. He was as psycho as Patty—now there was a match.” I sighed. “You know what’s scary? He was trying to track you down to kill you, and we had no clue. How do you protect yourself from that, from someone you didn’t even know?” The first night at Mother’s, I’d gotten a few minutes to have a private conversation with Brad. He’d never heard of Cardio Gates.
“That’s why you’ve always got to be aware of your surroundings. All of us do,” Creole said. “Truth is, it’s darn near impossible.”
“I’m just thankful Mila was with Mother and Cardio didn’t get his hands on her.” I shuddered.
“Thank you. For everything you’ve done through all this.” Brad gave me a lopsided hug. “Can’t say that enough. You were there and listened, and that helped immensely.”
Spoon refilled our glasses.
The front door slammed.
“If Fab wakes up Mila, she’s going to hear about it from me,” Mother grumbled. Her eyes reflecting her irritation, she kicked back her chair to go check on her granddaughter. “Not one word until I get back,” she said over her shoulder.
Fab made her entrance, Didier at her side. “I’ve got news.” She dropped her tote on the concrete. “But I’ve been ordered to wait.”
Didier held up a bag from Jake’s. “Cook wouldn’t let me order. He sent over one of everything on the menu.” He pulled containers out of the bag and lined them up down the middle of the table.
Spoon left and came back with dishes and silverware and tossed a roll of paper towels at Creole’s head.
I leaned toward him. “I’ll kiss it and make it better.”
Creole winked.
Mother came back, Mila’s hand in hers. “She was playing with her doll, so she’d been awake for a while.” She eyed the table. “I’m not sure there’s anything here that Mila will enjoy.”
“That’s why I got a grilled cheese.” Didier held out the container.
Brad reached out to Mila, who went straight to him; he lifted her and put her in his lap, then ripped off a long string of paper towels and wrapped it around her shirt. “She can sample whatever she wants—if she spits it out, we know she doesn’t like it.”
I smiled, wondering how big a mess the two of them would make. Fab had her phone out, snapping pics. I’d tell her to forward them to me later.
“Now that we’re all here,” I said to Fab. “What’s your news?”
Fab cast a glance at Mila, who had snubbed the sandwich in favor of a taco and was wholly focused on her meal. “Tossed Cardio’s hellhole and found a detailed, handwritten journal, laying out his relationship with Patty from day one, right up until the day he killed her. Love at first sight.” She wrinkled her nose. “The final straw came when Patty went off on a rant about her love for Brad, and Cardio couldn’t take it anymore. Realizing she’d never be his, he choked the life out of her. Did his ramblings stop? Oh no. He left an exhaustive list of all the things he did to find Brad and his plans for his demise.” She grinned at her find. “I’m no lawyer or judge, but I think it’s enough to clear Brad.”
“Please tell me you left it where you found it?” Creole groaned.
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Fab asked in her snooty tone.
I nudged Creole’s leg to remind him she was family. “Sneaking around behind Didier’s back again? I can’t imagine him sanctioning that visit. You weren’t crazy enough to go by yourself, were you?”
Didier tipped back in his chair, a big grin on his face. “You tell her,” he said to Fab.
“He was my lookout.” Fab flashed him her sexy smile. “After I persuaded him that the best place to do that was from the parking lot and not Cardio’s doorway.”
Spoon clapped him on the back.
Creole shook his head.
“Fab’s dragged you over to the dark side,” Brad said, enjoying the dirty look he got.
“There’s more. I made a copy of his computer files and have them on a drive in my bag.”
“Nice job.” I held out my knuckles, which she ignored.
“How is it that you beat the cops out to his place?” Creole asked.
“He rented it under an assumed name, and since he hadn’t been arrested of late, it wasn’t listed in any records we could find,” Fab said. “When Toady called and asked if I wanted him to search the place, I told him I’d do it and call him when I was done, and that he was to be ready to pass the i
nformation along to one of his friends on the force.”
“That’s why we’re late,” Didier said. “We parked down the street and waited until the cops showed. It didn’t take long, and then we were out of there.”
“Can’t wait for this case to just go away,” Brad said. “I’d like to stop looking over my shoulder, waiting for the cops to beat on my door.” He brushed Mila’s hair with his fingers.
She smiled up at him, her face covered in sauce and bits of food. A true Westin—she enjoyed her tacos and rice.
“I have an announcement of my own,” Brad said. “After everything that’s gone down, I grew a pair and politely ended my relationship with Phil. It was exhausting, pretending an intimacy we didn’t share.” He shook his head and continued, “Had a sit-down with Bordello, and we’re terminating the partnership once the project is finished, which should be within the next month. His informing me he was moving to Chicago made the decision easier.”
“So everything is amicable between the two of you?” I asked.
“The man’s a hard read. He might’ve had a different reaction if he didn’t have one foot out of town. But he needs me… or the ability to split himself in two. He needs someone he can trust to see the project to completion and not screw him. My opinion is: he was as relieved as I that the breakup was drama-free.”
“Now that I’m feeling better, I can get back to meddling in your life.” I smirked at him. “Bring your talents back to the Cove and find a partner here. You could end up owning the top of the Keys. Besides, you’ve got a daughter to raise and family trumps strangers helping you.”
Mila held her arms out to Spoon. He scooped her up and carried her into the house, saying, “Someone needs her face washed.”
“Pretty certain Mila would agree—she has her favorites.” Brad laughed.
“It’s the sweetest thing.” Mother stared after them.
Chapter Forty
Wedding week had arrived. Leave it to Fab to need a whole week. To be fair, the extra time was necessary to include all of Papa Caspian’s plans. He invited the family out to the island for final preparations, which included a night out for the guys and a dinner the night before the nuptials for family only. In a few hours, we’d be arriving to start the festivities.
I felt bad that I’d been barely any help, nursing my arm and not able to shake off the nightmares of Cardio. My arm was now out of the sling, Creole helping with the exercises the physical therapist had given me.
Conjuring up images of the condition of my house wasn’t adding to my mental health. I needed to mourn the loss and move on. A few pictures had been salvaged, which I treasured. But I’d been told there wasn’t much else left. I had a plan. Today was my day to escape everyone’s watchful eye and sneak out of Mother’s to do a drive-by and check out what remained.
I backed into the hallway with one last glance. Mother’s voice talking to Mila could be heard in the kitchen. I turned and yelped. Creole was leaning against the front door, arms across his chest, tapping his foot. He held out his hand. “Ready?”
Chagrinned, I closed the space between us, putting my hand in his. He jerked me hard against his chest, leaning down and searing me with a kiss. I’d lost my touch, but I should’ve known I would never succeed. I hadn’t been able to get by the watchful eyes of my guards even once, not even to go down to the strip of sand this place called a beach by myself.
“Don’t think I wouldn’t have tracked you down. And then.” He sliced a finger across his throat.
A giggle escaped me. “Sorry.” I stuck out my lower lip in a faux pout. “I just wanted… I don’t know… to be the old, take-charge Madison for a few.”
He opened the door and crossed to the elevator. “When you go through a traumatic situation, you have doubts about getting back into fighting shape, but you will. Look at me.” He flexed his muscles.
We stepped into the elevator, and instead of pushing the button, Creole swooped me into his arms, bending me back for a kiss.
“Think of me as your personal driver. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” He kissed me again.
The man knew how to kiss.
The door opened. “Ick,” a kid yelled. “They kissing.” He smacked his lips.
“Behave, David,” said an older woman who’d come around the corner, a young girl by her side.
Creole swept me off my feet and into his arms. Winking at David, who made a face, he carried me to his truck. “Where to?” he asked, sliding me onto the seat.
* * *
As we drove up to my house, the sight of it sucked the air from my lungs. The exterior was a blackened shell. The bottom floor gutted, the second only partially but deemed unstable, the property had been red-tagged. Tears ran down my face, and Creole wrapped his arms around me. More than a few thoughts ran through my head. It could’ve been worse. The cats and I had survived. Possessions could be replaced. I peeked around Creole’s shoulder, thinking about my aunt—she’d want me to rebuild, and I would, but the thought of living here again didn’t appeal at the moment. It wasn’t the first time I’d had my house invaded by intruders, and I wanted to make certain I was never caught off guard again.
The question of where to live loomed. Thus far, I’d split my time between Mother’s and Creole’s. We’d steal away and spend the night at his house, returning before Mila woke up. I wanted to take her with us, but there wasn’t enough room and she’d settled in at Mother’s.
As my tears dwindled, Creole wiped the rest away. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve worked up a plan.”
I groaned, and he laughed.
“We’re eloping and finding a bigger house—I’m thinking one that’s more secure, short of living out in the middle of the water.”
“If you’re waiting for me to disagree, I’m not.” I leaned my head against the seat and looked up at him. “I’m exhausted just being a part of the wedding plans, and I don’t want to turn around and do it again. Besides, we’d need seat fillers. Do you suppose Dickie and Raul could get us wedding guests from the same retirement homes they get the mourners?”
“No freakin’ way,” he growled and tickled me.
“No, nooo,” I squealed. “Mean,” I squeaked out.
“Love your laugh.” He pulled me into his arms. “Do you want to get out and have a look around?”
“How’s the pool area?”
“It’s another gut job.”
I nestled my head against his shoulder. “I’ve seen enough. When does cleanup start?”
“Next week. Didier and I will be overseeing it and will run every decision by you first. Then we can talk about what you want done after that.”
“Such a mess. The neighbors will be happy when they don’t have to look at the eyesore.” I shook my head. “Hamburgers? My treat.”
“Drive-thru or are we going inside?”
“I’m thinking staying in the truck—that way, I can put my feet on the dash.”
Creole burst out laughing. “You’re lucky you’re with me, young lady,” he said sternly. “Your bestie would never allow such behavior.”
“I’m very lucky.”
Chapter Forty-One
It had been arranged for the family to be taken out to the island by boat. Fab and Didier had made the trip two days previous. Everyone—except for Liam, who’d arrive the night before the wedding—was packed up and standing on the dock, awaiting the arrival of “Caspian,” the new yacht purchase, to make the short trip across the water. I’d heard from Fab that, in addition, a pontoon boat had been rented for the big day to shuttle guests back and forth.
Brad normally made himself scarce for these types of events unless nagged at and jerked by the ear by Mother. His incentive this time was Mila—she was the flower girl, and wherever Brad’s daughter was, he wasn’t far away. He’d taken to fatherhood as though they’d never spent a day apart. Mila’s eyes lit up and she ran into his arms every time he came through the door.
I’d found parenting b
ooks on his desk and teased him, covering the fact that the sight of them had me choked up with happy tears.
“After reading a dozen or so, I’m done. I figure if I can’t get it figured out, I’ll call Mother. She raised us after Dad died, and we didn’t turn out half-bad,” he mused. “I never miss a chance to tell Mila I love her.”
I left Mother and Creole at the bar, Spoon serving drinks, and found Brad in the bow of the boat, Mila on his lap. She was dressed in the pink tutu and leotard I bought. Mother and Fab were a bit annoyed that I managed to sneak something so cute by them, and even more so by the pair of flip-flops that came out of the bag too. I’d called the store where I’d seen the outfit in the window and had everything delivered. The ever-vigilant father had purchased a life vest, sunscreen, and also picked out a pair of mermaid sunglasses to match the tote bag she loved.
“How’s your custody case going?” I asked, sitting down next to him.
“Sweet Emerson. When Ruthie got the charges dropped, she didn’t waste a second filing the paperwork. Both of them are excellent lawyers—thank you.” He turned his head and whispered, “I hope Cardio’s churning in h-e-l-l, knowing that in the end, he helped get the charges dropped.”
“Is it going to take long?” I sighed.
“It’s a waiting game. I’m trying to be patient. But looking forward to being a full-time dad.” He kissed my cheek. “Found a therapist. We’ve been to two appointments so far. ‘Baby steps,’ she keeps reminding me. I took Mila to the condo and gave her a tour. Showed her her new bedroom, all in pink. Thank you for that tip.”
“How did that go?”
“She took it all in without much of a reaction. I figured I’d overdone it and told her we just stopped to get ice cream and would be going back to Gammi’s house. Mother’s new title, by the way.”
“Liam told me.” I laughed. “He wanted to make a bet about how long it would be before she changed her mind, and I passed.”
“I sat Mila on the island and got out the ice cream. I fed her, she fed me, and we got it all over our clothes. Reminded me that she needs a change of clothing at my house. When we got back to Mother’s, she gave us the once-over, both of us sticky messes, but didn’t say anything.”
Psycho in Paradise Page 25