“What’s Cara doing down here?” I asked. “Better yet, who’s the man?” At a quick glance, he appeared to be in his fifties and short on fashion sense, in a ratty Hawaiian shirt, his safari fedora pulled down low.
“We’re about to find out.” Fab grabbed her phone and snapped pictures. “In case he’s a runner.”
It was my turn to grab her arm. “If this turns out to be some kind of weird hook-up, you will not shoot him, as much as that would be your first choice. We’re calling the police.”
“As long as he hasn’t touched her.” Fab removed her Walther from the back of her waistband and moved it to the front. The door slammed, and she was standing in front of the table in a blink.
I hustled to catch up and came up behind Fab in time to hear her say, “Hi Cara, want to introduce us?”
Deer in the headlights was a good description as Cara turned and made eye contact with Fab. Seeing me, she gave a short wave.
“This is, uh… He’s a friend,” Cara mumbled.
My guess was she was trying to come up with a name other than the man’s real one. She got extra points, from me anyway, for not being good at being sneaky.
Close up, the man wasn’t in his fifties—actually his thirties somewhere—and probably prided himself on his disguise from the thrift store. The shirt was frayed around the edges and would fit a man twice his size. Between the hat and the reflector sunglasses, he’d done a good job of covering his face.
“Does your friend have a name?” Fab casually tucked her shirt in behind the butt of her gun.
“He’s too old to be a friend.” I pulled out a chair and sat down next to Cara. “If you don’t come up with something better than that, then I’m calling the police.” I held up my phone. “I’m telling you now, if you’re a perv, I may rethink calling the cops and instead call the coroner for a body bag.”
The man nodded slightly to Cara.
Her blue eyes were imploring. “This is Alex, and he’s a family friend. My grandparents know I’m here. He takes me out every couple of weeks to do something fun and catch up with what I’m doing, make sure I’m staying out of trouble. Like an uncle.” She grimaced. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“Didn’t say you were,” I said. “You know Fab and I care about you a lot. We’re just looking out for your safety.”
Fab bumped the man’s shoulder and, at the same time, snatched the hat off his head. “You have anything to say?”
He swayed slightly in his chair and, in a quick move, retrieved his hat from Fab’s hand and jammed it back on his head, growling, low and gruff, “Get lost.”
I leaned back, arms crossed, a huge smirk on my face, and stared at the man in question. I’d know that growl anywhere.
“Please, I don’t want any trouble,” Cara said, her anxiety on the rise. “Call my grandparents—they can straighten everything out.”
“That won’t be necessary.” I reached over and squeezed Cara’s shoulder. “I’ll vouch for the man.”
“You’ll what?” Fab screeched. People from the tables around us turned to stare.
“My ears.” I rubbed them. “Sit down. You’re making a scene.”
Cara giggled.
“Where do you know this old perv from?” Fab dragged a chair from another table without asking, earning a glare from the two girls sitting there.
“You wouldn’t want to miss out on a free cup of coffee,” I said. “I’m sure he’s buying.”
“You’d be wrong,” he growled.
“You could be a little nicer. If Fab had shown up by herself, you’d be missing your nuts already,” I said with a grin.
“This is my fault.” Cara covered her head with her hands.
“It’s all good,” I reassured the pre-teen, then motioned to the waiter, ordering for Fab and me. “Refill?” I asked Cara, who shook her head. “Shall we wait for our drinks to toast finally meeting the elusive GC?”
“No!” Fab squealed and leaned forward, almost nose to nose with the man. GC held up his hands to ward her off. “A few wardrobe tips, and you just might be… acceptable.”
“Now there’s a compliment,” I said.
“I’ve seen him all cleaned up, and he’s hot,” Cara vouched.
The server showed up, dropping off our drinks. I took a long sip of my iced latte and sighed.
“Your number will be disconnected tonight,” GC barked.
“Oh, get over yourself,” I said. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. Saves Fab and I from setting a trap.”
“Your secret is safe,” Fab told him. “Which is what exactly? You have a first name?”
Fab and Cara laughed.
“Great, I’m being ganged up on now. You two can go.”
Fab leaped out of her chair and snapped a close-up of GC. Ready for him, she jumped back as his hand shot out to grab the phone.
“What the hell?” GC roared, kicking back his chair. “Delete it, now!”
“You two are making a scene. Half the outside diners are staring.” I jumped up and pulled Cara with me. “If you take another step, I’ll nick you in the butt.”
“You’d get life,” GC snapped.
Fab pocketed her camera and headed for the car, ignoring GC’s shouted, “Get back here.”
I stepped in front of GC, giving Fab plenty of time to get the doors locked, and turned to Cara. “You’ve got Fab and I on speed dial. Don’t hesitate—ever—to call one of us.” I turned GC. “Talk to you soon.”
“I wouldn’t count on that.”
“Ignore me and I’ll hunt you down.” That was a threat I wasn’t sure I could follow through on, but it garnered me a creepy smile. “As for your secret…” I locked my lips with an imaginary key.
Cara and I did a convoluted handshake that she had to slow down so I could keep up. I got to the car the same time as the waiter, who handed Fab one of their signature pink boxes through the window. I suspected cookies for the guys.
Fab deposited the box in the back, then turned to stare over the steering wheel. “Where did those two disappear to?” She craned her neck as she pulled out, scanning the sidewalk, and drove slowly, surveying the parking spaces. No one was coming or going or hanging out in their car.
I knelt on the seat, peering out the back window. “Now that’s impressive.”
Fab humphed. “I planned to get his license tag and a description of the car.”
“GC’s good—he’s got a few tricks up his sleeve. Had you figured out and pulled his disappearing act at the first opportunity.”
“How are we going to find him now?”
“Whatever we decide, we won’t be breaking the trust we have with Cara to do it.”
Fab turned at the corner and headed back to the restaurant, grabbing the same parking spot. She snatched cash out of the ashtray. “Be right back.” She jumped out and flagged down the server that usually waited on us when we sat outside.
Their chat lasted less than a minute. Then she handed him money, and he waved as she walked back and slid behind the wheel. “GC’s a regular. Usually to-go.”
“My guess is he won’t be back anytime soon.”
Chapter Six
Fab turned north on the Overseas, so we weren’t going home. I should’ve known, when Fab lured me out with the offer of coffee, that she had something else on her agenda.
“I’m not sure where you’re going,” I said, having the sinking feeling she was dragging me to a job and would surprise me when we got there. “You need to turn around and take me home. You didn’t book my time, and I’m busy with my own business.”
Sheer exasperation poured through her fists clenching the steering wheel. Instead of slowing, she hit the gas, speeding up the open highway. “It can’t be an emergency or you’d have mentioned it by now. Besides, it’s too late now.”
“Pull over. I can get back from here.”
“Now you’re being totally annoying, probably on purpose.”
I turned and smiled out the wi
ndow, happy she hadn’t called my bluff. It would have been difficult to find a ride that didn’t involve my thumb. “What’s the job?” I asked over my shoulder.
“It’s an easy one.”
I bit back a snort, not bothering to remind her that there was no such thing as an easy case.
“You’re riding along because you wouldn’t want me going by myself, which I’m certain I don’t have to remind you I promised Didier I wouldn’t do.”
Ignoring her, I pressed my face against the glass, which was another of her pet peeves and a surefire way to make her get to the good stuff.
Fab blew out a sigh loud enough to be heard across traffic. “We’re on the way to Miami Beach, one of your favorites.” She smiled when I turned my attention back to her. “Mr. Worth is due back tomorrow and expects a full report on what I’ve found out about his thieving girlfriend. I’m paying Reva Lee a visit; maybe I can broker a compromise.”
“Not to be a downer but good luck. She’s got her mitts on three million dollars—my guess is she’s not letting go except under extreme duress. I thought you were dumping this case in Toady’s lap.”
“I can’t send Toady to an upscale condo building; he’d stick out and garner unwanted attention. And even if he managed a meeting with Reva, he doesn’t have the authority to negotiate.”
Fab merged onto the Turnpike, staying out of the fast lane for once and avoiding a high-speed game of bumper tag between two sports cars.
“Your scenario sounds above board, but that’s assuming Reva answers the door and is open to your plan. I’m certain I already know the answer to my next question, but humor me—if she’s not home?”
“I’ll use my key.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a lockpick referred to as a key.”
“Having thought this through…” Fab hesitated.
I rolled my eyes. Knowing her as well as I did, I knew she was currently coming up with an additional contingency plan or two. “What’s my role?” Creole hated criminal activity, and I shuddered to think what his reaction would be. Not good. I’d have to tell him, as that was the kind of relationship we had and I wasn’t about to mess it up with sneakiness.
“Stay in the car. The cops show up, message me and don’t come to my rescue. I might surprise both of us and not use that key of mine.” Fab glared at the car that cut her off. If the Hummer had steel bars on the front, the driver would be flying through the air down the off-ramp.
I stared as the white sandy beach rolled by. “If I were into condo living, this would be perfect—lots of shops and restaurants and a short walk to the beach.”
Fab pulled into the parking lot of a giant high-rise, finding a spot in the visitor section.
“I’m surprised this joint isn’t gated,” I said, looking around.
“There’s not a lot of crime down here. Occasional car theft. They do have security—it rolls by in a golf cart.”
“One last thing. While you’re riding up in the elevator, think about marriage and happy ever after. Make your decisions with Didier in mind.”
“Ten minutes.” Fab slid out, grabbing my new sun hat, which she hadn’t asked to use. She adjusted the brim to cover her face, checked her reflection in the glass, and dashed off with a thumbs up.
I watched as she used her “universal” security card to get into the building and thought back to lying in bed and telling Creole about the case. Even he was surprised by the amount of gold that Worth had on hand and his stupidity in revealing the combo. “Must have been some wild sex.” Not knowing whether Worth kept his gold in bars or coin, we’d looked up the general specifications for each. No matter which one, or both, it had taken some work to haul it off.
Waiting was a practiced art that I hadn’t perfected yet. I played with my phone but mostly ticked off the minutes staring at the dash clock. Late! And no sign of Fab. My phone buzzed. The message read, “Five more.”
Reva Lee must be at home, and they were in negotiations. For what? Reva gives the gold back, and Mr. Worth doesn’t call the cops? Or worse, she doesn’t and she disappears without a trace. He must have crossed the cops off his list or Fab wouldn’t be here. And if he wanted Reva to disappear, he’d have yet another person on that list. A killer Fab wasn’t, and she wouldn’t send someone else to do it. And I knew Toady well enough to know he’d only shoot in self-defense.
Fab came through the glass doors with one minute to spare. Turning, she waved and crossed the sidewalk to the SUV. I unlocked the doors, and she slid behind the wheel.
Fab pulled out onto Ocean Boulevard, and I gave the glistening blue water one last look, wanting to go for a walk. I knew I had no chance of getting Fab to pull over.
“Reva’s door stood open. What a mess.” Fab shuddered. “Not tossed either. A flat-out pig.”
I snapped my fingers.
“You’re so impatient.” She tossed her long brown mane in annoyance. “Back to my story.” She tapped her chin as though she’d forgotten. “Stuck my head in the door and sniffed for telltale dead body signs before calling out.”
Hideous stink. I scrunched up my nose.
“The maintenance guy came out of the bedroom, a middle-aged man full of information. Reva skipped,” Fab said in a ta-da voice. “She up and left, and based on the date she vacated, she hit the road the day before Mr. Worth discovered his missing stash.”
“Mr. Helpful have any clue where Reva went?”
Fab shook her head. “Judging by the way the woman left the place, she didn’t leave a forwarding. I was allowed to take pictures of every room.” She beamed. “Reva wasn’t attached to her possessions, tossing quite a lot on the floor.”
“When you steal millions, you can afford to buy new.”
“Reva was renting the place and had a six-month lease that was about to expire. Quiet, kept to herself, and Mr. Helpful didn’t recall seeing her at the pool or in the exercise room.”
“How much did that info cost Mr. Worth?” I asked.
“Made an interesting deal.”
“I bet,” I murmured.
“It is,” she insisted. “He got two hundred for the info and allowing me free access to the unit and an additional hundred to promise that, if he remembers anything, he’ll call.”
“Don’t make deals like that with my money.”
Fab ignored my sarcasm and picked up her phone. After punching in a number, she said, “I’ve got a job for you. Come to my office in the morning.”
“Mr. Worth isn’t going to be happy with a ‘Reva skipped’ report.”
“That’s why I’m siccing Toady on her tail. Here’s where I’m drawing the line—when he locates her, he’ll surveil her until Mr. Worth shows up to take care of his own problem.”
Chapter Seven
Fab sped through town, bypassing the turn to our street without even a sideways glance. “I’ve got one more case, and I’m hoping you’ll go with me.”
“It would have been nice if you’d asked me before you blew by the Cove city limits.”
“I knew you’d say yes.” Her smile was so shifty, most people would do a double take.
“Your manipulation is going to come back to haunt you.”
“We’re doing a welfare check,” Fab said.
“We? Now?”
“My client, Charles Newton, has a son that he’s worried about. Name’s Globe.”
“Globe? Your client a stoner? Surprised the kid wasn’t named Fig.”
“Are you finished?”
I flourished my hand in a way that she took as a yes.
“He hasn’t been able to reach Globe; his phone is turned off. Easy job—drive by, knock, and leave.”
“You need to stop using the word easy,” I grouched. “How old is this person, twelve? Can’t be because a kid would notice their phone’s off within seconds and turn it back on.”
“He’s a grown man, but his father worries when he doesn’t stay in touch. He’s a concerned parent.”
“So he hire
s an investigator because…” I squinted at her, waiting for her to fill in the blank.
“He’s rich and doesn’t want to do it himself, I guess. Besides, Globe is a recluse. I’m to tell him to stay in touch if he doesn’t enjoy these impromptu visits.”
It was a beautiful sunny day, and instead of picking up shells on the beach, I’d spent the better part of the day on the highway between Miami and Plantation Key, where Fab had just veered off, handing me a piece of notepaper with an address scribbled on it.
“At least it’s not in the middle of the weeds for a change,” she said.
It was a few blocks down to the water. She turned on the last side street, easily finding the address. The houses all had long driveways, their front sides facing the beach and nothing to block the water view. The short wooden fence that ran across the driveway stood open, and she turned in, checking out the large property, and drove past the volleyball court on the right. An Olympic-size pool could be seen around the front.
Fab parked and motioned for me to follow, pausing to peer through the glass of the back door, which opened into a small entry that curved out of sight to a set of steps off to one side. Instead of knocking, she made her way over to the brick pathway that ran along the side of the house and around to the front of the cream-color two-story house. It had been designed so that every window had a spectacular view of the open water. Fab rang the bell at the ornate front door, which was flanked by a series of glass French doors that could be pushed open to bring the outside in.
To the right, the doors opened into a gym with enough equipment to satisfy the pickiest workout enthusiast. On the opposite side of the door, an open space revealed a massive living room, dining room, and a glimpse of the kitchen off to the side.
If I had my way, I’d pull up a chair, sit down with an iced tea and a book in front of the pool, and enjoy the view. The patio was protected by a portico that ran the length of the house, and the backyard had a square of well-maintained green grass that was set up for a game of croquet.
Psycho in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 15) Page 4