I came back downstairs feeling a tiny bit better. “I don’t like leaving you,” Fab said. She put a phone on the counter and a Sig Sauer. “We stay in touch and call each other every day.” I reassured her I would be locking up and leaving right behind her.
I threw my arms around her and hugged her. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Don’t go thinking you were all slouchy in a crisis. You forget, I’ve seen you in action. Don’t get used to being solo for long.”
“We’ll talk later,” I said. “Watch your back.” Fab waved, and once the door closed, I stared at the clock on the stove and waited, counting down the minutes.
I went into the kitchen to savor a cup of my favorite coffee that I hadn’t had in days and enact my hastily put-together plan.
I found my electronics, my laptop and phone, on the granite island where I had left them. Creole didn’t trust us from the beginning, and as it turned out, he had good reason. I scanned the internet, checking for news stories on Bonnet and was disappointed. No dead bodies had shown up anywhere.
I pushed small discs under the legs of a large, solid-wood buffet that housed holiday dishware and was impossible to move anywhere, but with this little invention it made it easier to relocate a heavy piece of furniture and this one was headed in front of the French doors. Anyone trying to enter would find that the door would open only a crack, giving me time to be cocked and ready; my Beretta and Glock were fully loaded. Moving to the front door, I shoved a chair under the knob.
I dashed upstairs and snatched up my favorite pillow and then returned to the main level, double-checked the door locks, and added another chair to the front door. It might not keep someone out, but it would make a ton of noise. I grabbed a cold bottle of water from the refrigerator and my phone and then stretched out on the daybed. It was perfectly placed for a view of the patio and front doors.
Chapter 44
I woke up in the near-dawn hours feeling disoriented, unsure as to why I lay fully dressed on the daybed. The unwanted memories came rushing back. I grabbed the Beretta and listened to the sounds of the night, hearing crickets and cats howling in the distance, letting everyone they woke up know they were having sex. The seashell nightlight from the kitchen illuminated the foyer, letting me see that the chair and chest were still in place.
The last thing I remembered was putting my head on the pillow. I felt guilty for not calling Mother to let her know I was back in town and okay. Instead of dragging her out of her sleep, I’d wait until the sun came up to call her. I reached for a baseball cap that Brad left behind on his last visit, and stuffed my red hair neatly underneath. I guzzled a cup of coffee along with two aspirin. I waited for the pain to ease in my feet before shoving them into a pair of confining tennis shoes, wincing as my swollen toes came into contact with the unforgiving leather. I tweaked my undercover look, pulling my hat down and donning a pair of large, dark sunglasses.
I rolled my bicycle down to the beach. I knew my SUV was at Spoon’s garage behind barbed wire and locked, with electric fencing and no chance of getting it out without Spoon giving the okay. I rode along the hard sand down by the shoreline as far as I could go before pushing it across the beach to the main road. The streets were deserted. I pedaled to Jake’s faster than I thought I could, noticing that even the drunks had gone home to get some sleep before resuming their drinking. I picked the back door lock and parked the bike in the far corner of the kitchen. Phil would see it and come up with a cover story. I headed for the Trailer Court.
Much to my surprise, the Trailer Court had become so popular that the parking lot was full every night, the Vacancy sign off. Tonight was no exception. It drew a quiet crowd that wanted to spend a few days with their feet kicked up before they moved along. No one milled around, all seemed quiet. I heard a crunch on the gravel behind me, so I pulled the Beretta and twirled around.
“Hold on, Sister, don’t shoot.” Crum put his hands in the air. “I’m not armed.”
It was too early in the morning to be staring at the irate professor in his jockey shorts. Instead of his signature rubber boots, he was adorned in flip flops. It made me never want to wear the shoes again. They probably looked better on me, because I always had clothes on. I needed to prank Fab with wandering around the house in my underwear and boots. It would have to be when Didier was out of town.
“Just the man I want to see,” I sighed and reholstered my gun. “I need to borrow one of your crappy trucks. Preferably one that runs. Set a fair rental rate and I’ll pay you when I return.” I wanted to mention he should wear shorts, pants, something, but it would be a waste of breath.
“You insult my vehicles and then want to borrow one. Your negotiation skills suck.”
I should pull my gun again; he’d lose the snooty look.
“How many times have you told me you hate it when people can’t get to the point? Are you or aren’t you? I don’t have time to waste. I want the red one if it runs.”
He disappeared inside his trailer and came back out with a set of keys in his hand. “Are you in trouble?”
I ignored his question. “Has anyone been around looking for me? Any gossip?”
He shook his head in the negative. “I noticed you haven’t been around. Normally I see you every day. I didn’t ask any questions. Your name hasn’t been mentioned once. I assumed you went on vacation.”
“Anyone murdered? Found dead?”
He sucked in his breath. “No, that I would have heard.”
“You’re not to tell anyone you saw me, unless I turn up dead. Understand?”
He reached out and patted my shoulder. “The dead part would be distressing. I’m not sure your brother would let me live here without you around. You tolerate people’s idiosyncrasies more than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“That’s so sweet.” I wasn’t sure what else to say to what I felt sure was a compliment.
“There is one thing. Not sure if this is a good time,” he said, not making eye contact, just staring down and wiggling his toes.
I blurted out, “Carlotta? Where is she?” I’d forgotten about the troublesome felon. I perked at the thought. Carmine owed me big; maybe he was the solution to the Bonnet problem.
“Well… uh… hmm….” He shuffled from one foot to another.
“You promise me right now,” I hissed at him, “that she’s alive and well.”
“She was the last time I saw her. You know the woman’s crazy.”
I rolled my eyes in his face. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
Damn it, I didn’t escape Bonnet to now be on the run from a retired mobster.
“You need to breathe,” he said. “Come over here and sit down so I can explain.”
I threw myself in the rickety webbed chair, defying it to collapse under me. I’d beat Crum over the head with what was left of the aluminum frame. He dragged a bench over and plopped down.
“I had to get rid of her,” he started.
I groaned, wrapping my arms around my middle.
“No wait.” He held up his hand. “Listen to me. I had to call Carmine and have him come fetch her when she had contacted some of her old clients and planned on resuming the flesh trade.”
“Call Carmine?” I thought I’d be sick.
“Did you know she procured women for sex?” he grunted. “Why don’t I jump into the middle of the story, you know the part about how I got rid of her.”
About out of patience, I clenched my fists, restraining myself from a good scream. Brad would be pissed if he had to issue refunds to our overnight guests.
“Carlotta told her son that we were engaged. She had me play along, convincing me it was the only way she could get out from under his control. I did like her.”
“Would you have married her?” I asked.
“I never experienced the feelings like I did with her, but I’m too old to think with my member.”
I ducked from the dramatic pose of his arms, one hand now on his brow. If I didn’
t know better, I would have thought he taught drama instead of engineering at that overpriced college.
“After you left, Carmine showed up in a stretch limo. Carlotta introduced me as his new step-daddy, and that caught him off guard. I thought he’d strangle her on the spot, but instead he handed me his business card and told me I’d need it when I couldn’t stand her bullshit anymore.”
“I sniffed it in the air; she was up to something, sneaking around, all cagey-like. Well, my intuition was spot on, and no one creeps around in the middle of the night better than me. I tailed her. She had no idea I spent nights spying on her. She scoffed at my high IQ.”
“Yes, I know, it’s off the charts.” I closed my eyes for a moment, willing my headache not to come back.
“The other night I eavesdropped on Carlotta’s phone call, procuring girls for a big party on some rich guy’s yacht cruising the Caribbean.” Crum stood and started to pace. “The client requested specific girls, and when informed a couple of them wouldn’t go for the rough stuff, he got mad. After an exchange of threats, she upped her fee and told him it would be up to him to tell the girls what was expected.”
“Sit down. You’re making me queasy. The next you thing you know, I’ll barf.”
His brows knit together; he looked appalled and quickly sat back down.
“She caught me listening, and the murderous glare she tossed my way, I knew she wouldn’t tolerate being crossed. I’m not very good at playing ignorant, so I pretended that what she had just done didn’t revolt me, pretended excitement. I did ask, ‘What if one of them dies?’ and tried to talk her into dumping the client. Or just tell him she’d find women who were willing.”
Poor Crum looked exhausted.
“That morning she demanded to rent her own trailer––long term. Even a stupid person would figure out she wanted it for an office. I lied and told her we were booked, said that I had no control over the reservations. I went to bed early that night. I woke up and she stood over me staring, scared the crap out of me. I swear she had something in her hand, but I didn’t get a good look at whatever it was. She didn’t say a word, just turned and left the room. The look on her face....” Crum shuddered. “I think she planned to kill me. Harlot hated her and hid from her.”
“Is the cat okay?” I had a soft spot for animals and abhorred animal abuse.
He nodded. “I waited until she went for a walk and called Carmine, told him the entire story. He thanked me and hung up, leaving me to wonder if he planned on doing anything. I didn’t have to wait long. Around midnight, voices woke me up. Three men stood over the bed, two in black suits and one with a doctor bag. One put a finger to his lips and motioned me out of bed. I slid out and grabbed my shorts. That’s when Carlotta woke up and she recognized them.
Crum wrung his hands as he continued. “The spitfire came out of the bed swinging; she put up a fight, swearing like a longshoreman. She got in a couple of well-placed kicks before the Doc jammed a needle in her arm, and that was the end of the show. The suited ones each grabbed an end and lugged her out to the limo. No one spoke directly to me, and I returned the favor.”
I leaned back in the chair, which groaned in objection.
“I’m happy she’s gone back home. Let her be Carmine’s problem.” I felt bad that Crum looked sad. “Bad girls are fun and exciting, until the police show up and there’s a possibility that you might go to jail along with them.”
“I’m old enough to know better,” he snorted. “Got no excuse.”
“Trust me, you’d hate jail.” I smiled at him.
He handed me the keys to the truck. “It’s got gas. You need a place to hide, you’re welcome to stay here.”
A couple of lights had come on inside the trailers. I had to get out of here before someone took their morning coffee outside and saw me. I left him standing there and slid behind the wheel. The interior was not as junky as I thought, the seats covered with faded out beach towels. I hung my hand out the window and waved as I shot out of the driveway.
Chapter 45
J S Auto Body showed no signs of life when I drove slowly by. I swung a U-turn and headed down to where he docked his boats. He’d be with Mother, so that meant they’d be on the houseboat or at her house. Walking down the ramp, I found the area completely deserted and both boats parked in their slips, in pristine condition. There was no police tape and no signs that there had been a kidnapping or that it had been reported to any law enforcement agency.
No sign of Jax on the speed boat, either, or that any work was in progress. I hoped he wasn’t dead. I assumed that he would’ve found out we disappeared and hightailed it to safer ground.
Without going aboard, it was hard to tell if anyone inhabited the houseboat. I slipped my Beretta from my back holster and climbed the stairs. The outside clear glass door was locked, so I laid my finger on the bell. I checked out the spot where I’d last seen Billy sprawled, finding no blood or stains; surely that was a good sign. I’d like to think Billy wasn’t dead, but chances were not good with the amazon involved. After annoying even myself with the shrill sound of the bell, I sat back in a deck chair.
Growing bored within minutes and tired of waiting to be invited in, I picked the lock and walked around, prepared to shoot the first face I didn’t recognize. Spoon kept a clean house, not even a glass or utensil in the sink. In fact, it didn’t look like anyone was currently staying in residence. I crept along the hallway, approaching the door to the stateroom I used––open and empty. The bed was made, nothing in the closets or drawers, everything I’d left behind had been cleaned out. Same with the room Fab used. I reassured myself that I was the only one on board and that there would be no unpleasant surprises.
I ransacked the refrigerator and returned to the deck, making sure the door was locked before settling on a long bench. I was out of sight, but from my vantage point could see anyone boarding. It felt weird to not have a plan of action, but I felt safer here than at my house, which I decided on the way over that Bonnet and company would check out first. I know I would. It annoyed me greatly that no one seemed to be looking for me. Maybe when we disappeared again they figured we just went rogue.
Wake up time! I took my phone out of my pocket and called Mother first. I missed her and wanted to launch myself into her arms.
“Madison is that you?” Mother asked.
She sounded worried. I assured her that Fab and I were both healthy and safe. I didn’t say anything more, knowing that any information Spoon gleaned, he would’ve kept her informed.
“Where’s Spoon?” I asked before she could get in any more questions.
I felt ridiculous at being uncomfortable catching them together, since I knew that would be the case, but I tried not to delve too deeply into Mother’s love life.
“You know we thought… but I never did,” she sniffed. “He’s right here.”
“Where the hell are you?” Spoon growled. “Tell me that piece of shit Bonnet didn’t hurt you? We thought you were dead. So where have you been?”
I held the phone from my ear until he finished yelling and hurling questions.
He finally slowed to catch a breath. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you two.”
“Not while Bonnet is lurking around.”
“So you don’t know? Bonnet is dead.”
I paced the cabin and smiled. I relaxed, just knowing I could go outside and sit, without having to worry about random bullets making an appearance. I jerked my attention back to what Spoon was saying.
“His yacht cruised out about twenty miles yesterday and blew sky high. Law enforcement knows there were four men and one woman on board because a small fishing boat passed them on the water. The yacht caught their attention because of the loud partying.”
“That’s sad,” I said with no sincerity. I wanted to dance around, but I’d save it for Fab so she could wrinkle her nose and mumble, ‘ludicrous attempt at dancing.’ “We’ll be back at the house this afternoon.”
That would give Fab time and we’d skip the grilling as to why we split up.
“Where are our cars?”
“I’ll have them delivered to the house. You damn well better be okay,” he grouched.
“Let’s celebrate. I’ll cook dinner.”
“Cooking, as in that loose way that your mother defines it, as in ordering take-out?”
I laughed at him. Most people thought because I didn’t cook, that I didn’t know how. I excelled at dinner for twenty, for two, not so much. Besides, I knew Mother would never tolerate anyone taking over her job.
“I’m telling you up front, I don’t like microwave food.”
I heard Mother laugh in the background and say something.
“Or frozen waffles,” he added.
“See you later,” I said and hung up.
It felt anticlimactic to be informed Bonnet was dead. It seemed too easy. For a second, I thought for a second, Spoon––possibly Creole––had a hand in the timely explosion, especially if they thought we were dead. I had a few questions for Mr. Spoon when I saw him.
Next call––Didier.
“Why are you using your phone?” Fab demanded.
“Get your ass back here, Bonnet’s dead. Blown to bits,” I said. I took a perverse delight in relating the news. “Call Mother and let her know you’re okay. She doesn’t know we’re not together, so fake annoyance that I didn’t let you talk.”
Chapter 46
On the drive to The Cottages, I decided I wanted the fiftyish red Chevrolet pickup. I could horrify the neighbors and park it out front, maybe plant the flatbed with flowers. It made me smile that in a short period of time, I had become as eccentric as the neighbors. My aunt would be proud that I fit in, knew almost everyone in the neighborhood, and had the patience to be friendly to most.
Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise Page 22