“Was that so hard?” He jerked me around and kissed me hard.
“If one of her jobs goes awry, you can’t expect me to tell on her.”
“Something did happen. Something she wasn’t expecting.”
He thought he had me caged, but I had a trick up my sleeve and changed the subject.
“What time do you have to leave?”
“Got the day off.”
I unbuttoned his jeans and slowly unzipped them. I pushed them down his thighs. I tapped his leg and he stepped out one foot, then the other. I took his hand to drag him over to the bed, stopping short when he jerked me back against his chest.
“Here’s fine,” he whispered against my cheek as we slid to the floor.
* * *
Both of our phones started ringing at the same time. While Creole fished his phone out of his pocket, I went out to the deck to find out why Fab not only called, but texted 9-1-1. Since she was not given to theatrics, I had a bad feeling waiting for her to answer my return call.
“There’s another dead body,” Fab whispered.
“Where are you? Anyone else hurt?” I couldn’t bring myself to say dead. “Tell me someone didn’t dump another head.”
“Everyone’s fine,” she reassured. “Take a breath. Calm down. Just get home and drag lover boy’s ass along with you.”
“I’ll be right back,” Creole yelled from inside the house.
“Got to go,” I told her.
Creole was halfway out the door.
“You stop right there. I’m coming with you!” I screeched.
“You are staying here,” he ordered. “It’s not safe. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”
I raced into the kitchen and picked up his t-shirt, sliding it over my head. “If you leave this house without me, I’ll walk to the main highway and hitchhike.” I grabbed my purse off the counter and tried to push past him.
“Just please stay here.”
“You listen to me. I’m going. It’s my house, my family. How dare you make decisions for me!” I seethed in hot anger. “I can’t believe that if my phone hadn’t been turned on, you would have left me out here. By myself, with no transportation, in ignorance, while you figured out what to do.”
He threw open the gate and opened the passenger door. “Get in.”
Neither of us said a word the whole way back to my house.
He squealed around the corner of my street and parked across from the house. None of the neighbors were milling around, and there was no sign of a law enforcement vehicle.
The gate stood open, the body of a jean-clad male lying in the middle of the driveway. Creole reached for me and I sidestepped him.
“I might know him,” I said.
At least this one had his head.
I paused when I heard my name being called. I turned and saw Fab run around the side of the house, Didier two steps behind her.
“Anyone we know?” I asked her.
“Never seen him before.” Her eyes were huge; she looked unnerved. “Didier and I were going out for breakfast, and that’s when we found him.”
Creole was off to the side, his phone to his ear. The conversation was short. He stashed the phone in his pocket and motioned Didier over.
The guy confab irked me. I hoped Creole would share information.
“Did you get pictures?” I asked Fab.
When she nodded that she had, I said, “Let’s go in the house.” I looked over my shoulder and saw the guys still talking.
“Brace yourself; Creole’s not going to want us to stay here. He made noises about us relocating when the head showed up. Maybe we should think about going to The Cottages.”
“Don’t take this personally, but there’s no room service and way too many weird people,” she said with a frown.
We avoided the front door, although the body was only a couple of feet away, and cut through the side path instead. Once inside, I headed straight for the kitchen window, where we had an unobstructed view of the driveway. Unfortunately, the body was in plain view, too.
“Creole and I are fighting,” I declared to Fab. “He just tried to leave me behind with no intention of filling me in. He’s not happy I made threats to get a ride, and the feeling’s mutual.”
Fab hugged me. “You’ll make up. He’s just trying to protect you. ”
“I could use some alcohol but, since it’s not even noon, I guess I’ll have water.” I opened the refrigerator door. “Want to join me?”
“After the shock, Didier went ballistic. He’s already agreed with Creole that we should stay somewhere else. He mentioned Miami Beach. When the two of them figure out they are on the same page, the pressure will ramp up.”
“What in the hell is going on?” I whimpered, as I leaned over the sink, my head in my hands. Creole and Didier had moved to the end of the driveway. “Why has my house suddenly become a dumping ground for bodies? Bodies of men we don’t know. I haven’t made anyone mad lately. Have you?”
“It’s a message to one of us or someone connected to us. It normally means stop whatever you’re doing, or you’ll end up in the same condition. We need to figure out the whatever.”
Thankfully none of my family had stayed overnight after yesterday’s get-together. Even though we were the only two in the house, I leaned into her ear and whispered, “Jax.”
“Why are you whispering?” She peeked out the window. “They’re still out there, haven’t moved.”
“Do you think this man is the other partner that Jax mentioned the other day?” I wrinkled my nose at her. “I’ve got Phil looking for him again so we can finish the conversation we started. She’s good, better than any of the locals we’ve used in the past.” I'd given Phil instructions to find him ASAP and to dig around for any information she deemed pertinent.
“I like that the ballsy blonde can back up her big talk with results.” Fab continued to stare out the window. “Let’s go to Miami.”
“Too far for me. I’d be totally out of touch with the Cove, and that’s not a good idea. I’d rather hide in plain sight. You go and enjoy sitting on the powdery white sand, drinking your nauseating vodka drinks.” I held out my pinky finger. “Swear you won’t divulge our ultimate hideout. If we get separated, we meet up there.”
Chapter 30
Kevin squealed his squad car up to the house with no lights on and triple-parked so that he was blocking one side of the street. He waved, catching me gawking out the window. At least it was a nice change from stomping over and threatening to arrest me on the off chance that I might have been the one to kill the guy.
It surprised me that the next car to block the street belonged to my brother. It also sucked. Ever since my brother and Kevin had become pals, all sheriff calls involving me got reported before I had a chance to make the call myself. On the upside, this meant that I could tell Brad that he’d be the one to call Mother with the grisly details.
“That makes me nauseous.” Fab pointed to the four men standing off to the side. “When did they get so friendly?”
“Since they started hanging out together, challenging each other. Running, biking, always a competition to see whose is bigger.” I smiled at her, knowing what she was thinking.
“Didier’s.”
I burst out laughing. “You’re so juvenile.”
“We have more company,” she said, nodding to the driveway.
Two more sheriff cars drove up and, behind them, the coroner’s van approached.
“I’m going out and sitting by the pool. If anyone asks, tell them I went to Key West,” I said.
“Since your SUV is blocked in, that’s not going to sell. Besides, you might want to hold off. The guys are headed our way.”
The front door opened and Creole stomped in, Didier and Brad behind him. Whatever the bad news was, Creole had drawn the short straw.
“Pack lightly,” he ordered, his lips in a hard line. “Leave your phones on the counter. I’ll find someone to take care of Jazz.”<
br />
I ground my teeth together and then pinched myself as a reminder to break that bad habit. “Where are we going?”
Didier moved to Fab’s side and put his arm around her while she stared daggers up at him. Brad leaned against the kitchen door frame, a smirk on his face, knowing that ordering me around wasn’t going to be well-received.
Arms across his chest, his best perp scowl on his face, Creole said, “I’m moving the two of you to a safe house until we figure out what’s going on and get this case solved.”
“I think asking would have been a better tactic. I’m not a criminal deserving of one of your tight-ass edicts. Fab and I can go to Mother’s and take Jazz with us. No one’s going to show up there.”
Creole’s hand slammed down on the island between us.
“You don’t know that,” he growled. “Don’t you care if someone you know ends up dead?”
“We’ve proven we can take care of ourselves and be useful to law enforcement all at the same time!” Fab blasted him.
“I don’t think Mother’s house is a good idea,” Brad spoke up. “What about black cat hair on her white furniture?”
She’d flip! I thought.
“Jazz does not get foisted off on someone just because it’s convenient to you.” I struggled to remain calm. “I approve wherever he goes, and that list is extremely short.”
Jazz must have heard his name and sauntered into the kitchen. With all these people standing so close to the refrigerator, he probably thought he might get lucky. I picked him up and nuzzled his neck. Fab reached into the refrigerator, pulling out a butcher paper-wrapped treat. He meowed at the top of his lungs.
Didier hugged Fab. “You two need to listen. It is not acceptable if either of you ends up hurt or dead. This way, you’ll both remain safe.”
“We could call Mother and see how she votes,” Brad said. “I can tell you, she hasn’t wanted you to stay here since the head incident.”
Fab walked into the living room, and threw herself on the couch.
“Don’t you think you could have consulted us and not just ordered us around?” I asked.
“Sorry I forgot my party manners, but your life is on the line!” Creole yelled.
Didier said something in French, and Creole calmed somewhat.
I set Jazz on the floor and flopped on the daybed.
“They do this all the time,” I told Brad. “They’re rude and never translate.”
Brad kicked my foot and sat down next to me, leaving Creole to sit in a chair.
Didier said something to Fab in French. She erupted, and they started yelling at one another. Creole smirked, so I knew Didier was winning that argument.
Creole and Didier spoke three languages, Fab two, and I knew a handful of bad words in various languages.
“How many languages do you speak?” I asked Brad.
He smacked my leg.
“Five or six,” he chuckled. “All dirty words, courtesy of the professor.
Fab took her phone over to the patio door. “Mac will take care of Jazz. I gave her instructions and told her if anything happened to him, I really will kill her. She’s to spoil him and never ignore his meows.”
My eyes teared up. Jazz would love lying in Mac’s big lap while she devoured one of her romance novels. “She’s okay with cats?”
“Mac said not to worry, animals like her. She was honored to be asked. I told her she was our first choice.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” I whined. “You go to Miami. I’ll stay here and barricade myself in and shoot trespassers.”
“There is a second option,” Brad said. “I’m getting ready to pull out on a fishing trip.”
The thought of being out on the open ocean, water churning around... or worse, getting caught in a storm, the sides of the boat battered from every direction, made me queasy.
I felt ganged up on. Fab’s complacency and silence on the subject annoyed me. It was hard for me to believe she wanted to be locked up somewhere, being told what she could and couldn’t do.
“Let’s pack.” I swept past her, picked up Jazz and kissed him until he meowed with annoyance.
“No electronics,” Creole yelled after me.
I pulled out a black leather overnight backpack, a gift from Fab. The special part was that it had a false bottom. My aunt had installed a wall safe that I discovered when I removed a painting one day to hang one of my own. Luckily, she had used the same code on everything. The safe originally held a couple pieces of jewelry, which I gave to Mother, and some cash which I'd split with my brother. I refilled the safe with a stack of cash in different denominations, two guns, gifts from Brad, and several throwaway phones with minute cards.
I lifted the cover in the bottom of the bag, then took everything out of the safe and stashed it in the bag, along with a box of ammunition. No one knew I liked to hoard cash, but I had made a game of it since high school. Before replacing the lid, I put my notepad on top. I didn’t worry about Fab because I knew she kept her bag pre-packed with pretty much the same things.
I threw in a couple of jean skirts with plenty of pockets, several t-shirts, underwear and a pair of tennis shoes in addition to another pair of flip-flops. It overwhelmed me looking in the bag, knowing I only had a change of clothing for a few days. And then what? How long would we be hidden away? I hated unanswered questions.
Looking down at my flirty skirt, I decided a change of wardrobe was in order. I peeled off the skirt and tossed it on the bed in exchange for my favorite comfort outfit, my crop sweats. I wasn’t sure what to wear while hiding out, but these seemed like an easy choice, and I slipped into them with glee.
Creole opened the bedroom door as I was about to toss my bathing suit into my bag.
“You won’t need that,” he said. “You two won’t be staying at the beach.”
“Of course not,” I mumbled. Why should it be anywhere fun?
I threw my toiletries in a separate bag, holding my breath as I glanced over my shoulder and saw Creole look in the bag. He didn’t dig around inside, but he did check the side pockets.
I zipped the bag. “Where are we going?”
He didn’t answer me.
I followed him downstairs and wondered if our relationship would survive. I checked the furniture. “Where’s Jazz?”
“Didier is taking him to Mac.”
Brad had also snuck out the door. No hug, no kiss, only a pat on the head when he sat next to me.
Men!
I hated all of the decision-making on my behalf. It would have been nice to know Jazz was leaving, since he’d been with me longer than anyone in the house. Creole glared at me in cop mode, and I had zero appreciation for his high-handed techniques.
I knew this was for my safety and Fab’s. I just wanted to be consulted. Zapping away my decisions stung, and he looked too damn comfortable in this new role. This was my first taste of protective custody, where the agent in charge told you what to do and you just did it. I struggled to control my temper and drop the surliness.
Fab’s continued lack of opinion astounded me. It must be that Didier or Fab had another plan. As long as I’d known Fab, she didn’t take direction at all.
“Before you ask,” Creole said. “Didier took the Hummer. When he’s done, he’s dropping it off at Spoon’s auto body shop, where it will be stored until you get back. It’s not like its some old Buick; it sticks out and is well-known around town.”
“Does Fab know we’re taking the Mercedes?” I asked.
Fab stood at top of the stairs listening to the conversation, bag in hand. She had a pinched look on her face, as though struggling to control her irritation. So she wasn’t just going along with the plan, not as much as I had thought.
Creole stood in the middle of the living room, his eyes shifting between the two of us. “I’ll be driving you.”
“Let me get this straight!” Fab yelled. “You’re going to take us to some undisclosed location and leave us with no ride, no
phones, and no electronics? For how damn long?” She stomped down the stairs, ending up in front of Creole, glaring.
At long last, there was the explosion. The angry words were sweetness to my ears, as I agreed with every one of them.
Creole pasted a patient look on his face, prepared for her tirade, probably wondering what took so long. He picked up two phones off the coffee table and handed one to me and the other to Fab, which she jerked out of his hand.
“My number is programmed in,” he said.
“So if something goes wrong, we have to hope you answer your phone and that the call doesn’t go to voicemail. Oh, and the big one, that you show up in time,” Fab protested.
Fab stepped away from him and caught my raised eyebrow. She marched out of the house ahead of me and climbed into the back seat, which she never did, and I silently questioned her. She shrugged, saving her energy for a confrontation she could win.
“My house? My plants?” I asked.
“I’ve got it handled," Creole said. As he climbed behind the steering wheel, he handed me his phone. I looked at the screen, and it showed a picture of Mother.
“I guess you know,” I said to her.
“I’m not happy either, but I love you and want you to be safe. Brad called and told me. We both want you safe.” Mother made a kissy noise. “Don’t be so hard on Creole; he’s doing what he’s trained to do.”
“I love you back.”
“You’re a lot like me,” she said with a laugh. “So try and behave for as long as you can. Hopefully it will be over soon. Pass the phone to Fab.”
I handed it over the seat.
She covered the phone and kept her voice down. I never heard the exotic Fabiana make a kissy noise before, and yet she did to Mother. It pleased me as much as I knew it would Mother. Fab handed the phone back. I looked at the screen and the call had been disconnected.
“No goodbye?” I looked at Fab.
“I’ll tell you later what she said.”
I wanted to put my head back against the seat and close my eyes, but I needed to pay attention so I knew exactly where we were going. I decided that for the moment I would change my attitude. I wanted to live, so I’d cooperate.
Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise Page 15