“Someone beat Kelsey up two nights ago, and she swore out a complaint against Horton King. You know him?” Fab asked.
“I met him. He came into The Hut all the time, picked up Kelsey sometimes when her shift ended. Seemed like a nice guy, not bad looking, reeked of money. Figured it would end badly. The poor guy was clearly in over his head; he was no match for Kelsey.” Peggy half-laughed. “Did he do it?”
“He says not. There isn’t a mark on him.” Fab scrutinized her as she answered.
“More than likely it was the big gorilla she lives with, Gibbs.”
“Man or an ape?” I asked.
Fab snorted at me.
“This is Florida; she could be shacked up with some hairy animal.”
“Gibbs is her husband––or so they say; no one got invited to the wedding. A back to nature event on the Crystal River,” Peggy said. “No one knows if they did it legally. More than likely he was the one to beat the crap out of her. It wouldn’t be the first time. Probably found out that she was cheating on him––again. Here’s what I do know: If Horton really did beat her up, look for him to turn up dead in a trashcan somewhere.”
“If Gibbs beat her, then why finger Horton?” Fab asked.
“Because she’s a vindictive bitch and has a serious hatred for her ex-husband, who had her jailed regularly for sport. Since she can’t get back at him directly, she vents her anger on every man she’s been with since.”
Peggy reached for my water bottle after downing her drink, unscrewed the top off and downed half, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.
“Her first husband had her arrested several times; they’d get drunk, he’d mark himself up, and call the cops. She finally got a divorce when the judge told her if he ever saw her in his courtroom again she was going to big-girl prison. Now when she’s done with a relationship, she has the man arrested—with the exception of Gibbs. Always trumped up charges. She seems satisfied with their mug shot and a day or two in jail. She never makes herself available to the prosecution, doesn’t return the district attorney’s phone calls. Even so, one man went to trial and got convicted, even though she never showed up and didn’t testify against him.”
“I’m surprised she’s not dead,” I raised my eyebrow at Fab. “How long has she been divorced?”
“Ten years. She’s the gift that keeps giving.” Peggy clearly had no love for Kelsey.
Fab shook her head in disbelief. “She keeps it up for the fun of it? What?”
“It’s a game. It gives her control. Not to mention, under that sweet exterior of hers, she’s mean and vindictive. She hunts for men on the beach, finds her prey, a few drinks later, and they’re off for as much kinky sex as the guy’s wang can handle. She’s sexed-obsessed and not choosy,” Peggy snorted.
She shook the empty water bottle.
“You going to finish yours?” she pointed to Fab’s bottle.
Eww! Who drinks out of someone else’s anything?
Fab pushed it across the table.
Peggy slurped the water.
“Kelsey lives to drive Gibbs crazy. She’s an attention seeker––good or bad. Her and Gibbs will get along for a while, and then she’ll disappear for days at a time. She'd take unscheduled days off work, so that when Gibbs came around, she was nowhere to be found. I know for a fact Gibbs has no idea she hangs out on the beach all day while he’s at work and bangs whoever is available.”
“Has she ever retracted one of her stories?” I asked.
“Nope. Evil bitch.”
“Why don’t you like her?” I asked.
“She slept with my husband.” Peggy's mouth was a hard line. “I wanted to forgive him, but I couldn’t. He was another one of her victims; she accused him of choking her during sex. Claims she blacked out, woke up with bruises around her neck. He didn’t have a mark on him. Don’t you think if you were being choked you would scratch, hit, do something? She had him arrested and wouldn’t cooperate, so the case went nowhere, thank goodness. Except for the big-ass attorney bills.”
We sat in a moment of awkward silence.
“I loved him. She wanted to bang him, another tic mark in her book. You know, she apologized, smirked that at least I knew he was a cheating dog. I really wanted to kick the crap out of her.”
To my surprise, Fab patted her arm.
I felt bad for her, too. I’d been cheated on, but at least it wasn’t with a good friend.
“Do you want my opinion?” Peggy continued on without waiting for an answer. “She pulled one of her infamous disappearing acts on Gibbs, and when she showed back up, he went crazy on her mangy ass.”
“Do you know where she lives?” I asked. Fab had driven by the address Horton gave us, but it turned out to a deserted taco stand. We’d planned to call him later and verify the information he gave us.
Peggy chuckled.
“The address she usually gives out is a private mail box. If anyone shows up looking for her, she’s nowhere to be found. A friend of hers owns the place and anyone who inquires, she sends away, informing them the box has been closed. Her phone number changes every couple of months. She calls it cleaning up her life.” She picked up Fab’s pen, wrote on a napkin, and handed it back. “Kelsey lives here.”
There was an awkward silence. I wanted to ask another question to lighten the mood, but instead kept my mouth shut.
Peggy looked at her watch and stretched the band, letting it snap against her wrist.
“I’ve got to go. Tell Horton to hang in there. In a few months, the charges will probably be dropped.”
Not in the mood to dicker, I felt we got more information than we hoped for and pushed money across the table.
She stood and counted it.
“You’re right, you are a generous tipper. Thanks.” She waved the money and walked to her Jeep.
We watched until she cleared the driveway, honking and hanging out the window, until someone let her cut in.
“Creole said that in some cases, the district attorney doesn’t need a victim to pursue a case, depending on circumstantial evidence,” I said. “I think a prosecution can be successful on pictures alone.”
“What now?” Fab asked.
“Blackmail,” we said in unison and laughed.
“First we need to meet Gibbs, see if he has marks on him,” Fab said.
“’We nothing,” I shook my head. “You get gorilla duty.”
“We’ll stop by on the way home; daytime is always good for checking out an unknown neighborhood. There’s always a nosy neighbor that’s up in everyone’s business. Maybe one of them heard something. And that is your job.”
“Knock… trumped up excuse… and I’ll paste on my friendly smile and schmooze...,” I thought out loud.
“You still have the religious pamphlets in that stupid box you insist we haul around.” Fab looked pleased with her contribution.
“I also have a bogus petition that I printed off the internet and a clipboard, we could ask him/her to sign. Or, I overbought on some candy bars from a school fundraiser. They’re in the box. We could sell those for our kid’s school.”
Fab turned her nose up, “I’d never allow my little Fabiana to sell anything door-to-door. She’s way too cool.”
I laughed until tears gathered in my eyes. “Think pretend. Besides, Fab Jr. isn’t born yet.”
Chapter 18
The sign read Lazy Acres Mobile Home Park.
“This isn’t so bad.” Fab craned her neck out the window. “At least it’s quiet.”
The grounds were kept up, the grass mowed, but the buildings were tired and in need of another poor paint job.
“We both know the true test of a neighborhood is at night. That’s when the fun people like to rock n’ roll until the police show up.”
“What are you doing?” Fab asked.
I crawled over the seat back and fished out the clipboard.
“Looking professional––grabbing a couple of cheap pens and a petition that asks
people to sign to block a several lane extension that runs along the coast.”
“Where?” Fab looked at me like I’d lost my mind.
“Daytona. No one is going to take the time to read every line. And if they do, I’ll say, ‘Oh damn, I grabbed the wrong one.’ Flash the sad face, ‘Not again,’ and get the heck out.”
We drove up and down the rows of mobile homes, the directional signs turning us in circles until we found Gibbs's trailer parked on the last row in the far corner. The trailer was all locked up, with a single driveway under the awning, empty. A scrawny white cat was perched asleep on the patio ledge.
“Now what?” Fab asked, maneuvering a U-turn onto the narrow one lane road and pulling up in front of the trailer.
“I suggest we talk to the two women sitting on a porch across the way, staring at us. Your turn to make up a story.”
She unleashed an exaggerated sigh.
“That’s a terrible idea.”
“Give me your badge,” I told her, holding out my hand.
I hopped out of the SUV and crossed the street. I glanced over my shoulder, unhappy to see Fab still sitting in the SUV. So much for backup.
I smiled at the women, who eyed me curiously. I flashed the badge; their surprised looks vanished, replaced by an attack of nerves.
“I’m here to follow up on a domestic disturbance report. Could you ladies possibly help me out? This is our last stop for the day, and we’d like to fill out the report and go home.”
One stood and ground out her cigarette in an ashtray that held the remnants of at least a pack.
“I’m Yoli,” she introduced.
Both women were gray-haired and smokers, long in the tooth, as my grandfather would say, but I sensed they could hold their own in a brawl.
“It was those two over there.” Yoli pointed. They seemed surprised that someone called the cops. “Last time old man Barnes phoned in a report, Gibbs found out and threatened him, made him scared enough to pee himself.”
“I’m Carnie,” the other one spoke up, polishing off her cheap light beer. She smashed the can under her foot in one stomp.
“You don’t want to mess with Gibbs,” Carnie shivered. “That wife of his isn’t the sharpest tool. She riles him up, he beats the snot out of her, and things stay calm for a while, until she gets it in her head to disappear. The last time it happened, she came walking up, looking like she’d been sleeping on the street. I hid in my trailer and turned up the sound on my afternoon stories.”
“He’s a prick,” Yoli nodded.
“Why doesn’t Kelsey just leave?” I asked.
“Gibbs would kill her,” Carnie said with conviction.
“They’re a weird couple.” Yoli lit up another cigarette, took a long drag, and blew it in my direction.
I side-stepped and glared at her.
“Sorry,” Yoli mumbled. “I’ve seen Gibbs parade her up and down the driveway on a leash. Then they jump in the truck and don’t come back for hours. Nothing he does seems to bother her; she never fights back.”
“It’s easy to ignore Kelsey, since she never speaks to me. Wanted to borrow money once. I told her I didn’t have any; she cussed me out and never even looked at me after that,” Carnie said. “Gibbs knows he’s unpopular around here. Any neighbor who has had a run-in with him fears him. I hightail it back in the house when I see them coming. Occasionally I force a pleasant smile, afraid not to say hello back or ignore him like I’d like to do.”
“Have you seen Kelsey around?” I asked.
“Saw her limping and dragging out the trash can the day after the fight, sporting a couple of black eyes.” Yoli’s words dripped with sarcasm. “Don’t like her. I’m not ashamed to admit I laughed when Gibbs screamed from the porch for her to hustle her ass and get back in the house. She turns up her nose, thinks she’s better than everyone here, parading around half-naked in her skimpy outfits.”
“I want to thank you both for your help.” I smiled at them and rose. “There is nothing I can do unless she files a complaint.”
They both smiled back and waved as I left.
“I want a raise,” I huffed at Fab, crawling into the passenger seat. “You couldn’t move your skinny ass and back me up?”
“You can’t take two old women without using your gun?” Fab taunted.
“Ha! You should’ve looked a little closer. Ass kickers, both of them. The only thing that scares them is Gibbs,” I said. “Can’t wait to meet him. Take me home. I need a swim and some take-out food, which is your treat.”
“Why do I have to ask you what they said?” she sulked.
“That will teach you to sit in the car. Gibbs beat Kelsey that night. Apparently, there's no direct proof that your client didn’t hit her or that Gibbs is the culprit. Kelsey is the only one that can clear your client.”
My phone beeped, letting me know I had a text message. I groaned and read the message from Mac out loud.
“'I have a surprise for you.’ Why does that scare me?”
Chapter 19
“What in the hell?” I squeezed my eyes closed.
Nothing much shocked me, but the sight of two middle-aged women, Mac and Shirl, lying by the pool in bikinis and cowboy boots did just that. Fab made the drive back from Fort Lauderdale in record time. I'd just closed my eyes and shut my mouth as we rocketed down the highway.
“You need to tell them that that look doesn’t work,” Fab whispered.
I scowled at her.
“Hi ladies, what’s up?”
“No, how are you? How’s your day?” Mac said in a highly irritated tone.
“You both appear fine. And you have a job where you can sit out by the pool any time you want. Where’s my surprise? If it explodes on my clothes, you’re fired.” I kicked off my shoes and walked down the steps to stand in the pool.
“Interesting outfit,” Fab said to Shirl.
I looked down before rolling my eyes.
Shirl gave her a toothy smile. “Can I tell her the surprise?”
Mac grunted in affirmation, leaned back in her chaise, and closed her eyes.
“Miss January got a kitten,” Shirl announced.
“Another stuffed one?” I asked.
“Oh no, this one is alive and well. Named her Kitty Two.” Shirl did a little dance move. Surprisingly, boots and boobs went in the same direction.
“Absolutely not!” I opened one eye. “She can’t take care of the dead one she’s already got.”
Although Miss January had her cat stuffed, she didn’t seem to remember that it had been dead for years. She had a tendency to carry it around and then misplace the damn thing, and I usually got the call to find it. Long ago, I got disgusted that the stuffing kept coming out, and had it restuffed. It looked like… well ‘new’ wasn’t the right word. Miss January didn’t seem to notice, nor did it concern her that the cat didn’t eat the kibble and drink the water she left on the floor every day.
“What will poor Kitty One think?” I asked. “Won’t it be jealous?”
“You’ve lost your mind,” Fab laughed.
I was afraid to ask, but forged ahead against my better judgment. “Where is she now?”
Mac snorted. “Drunk, passed out inside her cottage.”
“Find Kitty Two a home, or make it an office cat,” I said. “In case she asks during her non-drunk hour or so, make something up that won’t hurt her feelings.”
Mac burst out laughing. “The look on your face was priceless. I have Kitty Two in the office. I told Miss January I’d cat-sit while she slept off her drunk. Cute little thing. I can find it a home.”
I stood up. “We’re leaving. Try to refrain from hysterical texts unless it’s actually an emergency.”
“Not just yet.” Mac pointed to a chair. “You might want to sit for this.”
Fab started laughing.
“You’re such a sympathetic friend.” I glared at her. “What?” I threw up my hands.
“Joseph is depressed. He�
�s having girlfriend problems.” Mac looked toward his cottage.
“Svet is a life-size rubber doll. How much trouble can she be?” I asked.
One of Joseph’s dead friends had bequeathed the attractive, voluptuous doll to him, complete with wigs and a closet full of impressive looking clothes, mostly lingerie. I liked Svetlana. So far she'd been the perfect tenant. Joseph would never get so lucky with a human woman.
“Poor Svet, she’s all twisted up in the corner with a giant hole in her leg. Joseph thinks one of his drunk friends did it because they were jealous.” Mac continued to laugh.
“Don’t look at me. I use my surgery skills on real people,” Shirl said.
“Call Spoon,” I said. “He’s got an auto repair shop. Surely he could patch her like a tire.”
“You’re awful,” Mac declared. “That would mar that creamy skin of hers.”
“I have a headache,” I whined. “There’s a bonus coming to you if you get Svet fixed and blown up, and I never hear about this again.”
The big smile on Mac’s face told me that she had the problem already taken care of. I hated that all three of them were laughing at me.
“I do have some good news. Got rid of the poacher. I gave the key to Spoon’s guy. Nothing friendly about him. Probably scares his own mother with those pin dot eyes…made the hair on my neck stand on end when he laughed. Few minutes later, Mr. Earl was throwing his stuff in his car.”
I sighed. “Another happy ending.”
Chapter 20
Fab made a face and answered her phone. She looked at me.
“Ellie Compton’s being released in the morning.” Noticing my confused look, she added, “Our prison job.”
“What time?” I’d been on enough Brick jobs to know. The job sounded simple enough, but I wouldn’t leave home without my Glock.
“Brick just informed me that she can get released any time after midnight, and normally the first one gets released in the early morning hours.”
“I’m not going.” I banged my glass on the countertop. “This means we could sit for hours in the parking lot. It’s now a two-day trip.”
Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise Page 9