While I relished the sunshine and water, Fab walked around the house, peering into windows. Soon she was back at the door, this time knocking—some would say banging—which got no response.
Standing back and shading my eyes with my hand, I momentarily forgot to be helpful and instead checked out the high-end finishes on the exterior. I didn’t like the idea of pulling a peeping Tom act, especially if there was any chance I’d get caught staring in the windows. Moving closer, I pushed my sunglasses up, peering into the living room. Out of the corner of my eye, a movement from the dining room area caught my attention.
A person occupied one of the chairs, slumped sideways. Napping? From this angle, I couldn’t make out whether it was a man or woman. My neck hair stood up in warning. If it was the man we’d come to check on, it couldn’t be good news. Out of patience, Fab cop-knocked.
“Fab…”
“You’re trespassing,” a man decked out in “tropical cowboy” shouted as he came around the corner from the side of the house with the volleyball court. Shirtless, in board shorts and cowboy boots, he captured my attention, as did the holster strapped around his waist holding a pair of six-shooters, his hand on one of the butts in a draw stance.
“Globe?” Fab asked, pairing it with the smile she reserved for old men. “Your father wanted me to stop by and ask you to call. He was worried when he wasn’t able to get ahold of you.”
Certain that Globe hadn’t seen me, as he’d passed me without a second look, I removed my Glock from my waistband, thankful that I’d chosen to wear a skirt and could tuck it into a fold unseen. Another movement from inside caught my attention. The person in the chair—a blond woman—had lifted her head, and there was no mistaking the gag wrapped around her mouth.
What the heck had we stepped into?
“Thanks for stopping by,” Globe said amiably. “I’ll give Dad a call.”
I crept up behind Globe, sticking the muzzle of my gun in his back. “Get your hand off the damn gun. Unholster that thing and drop it to the ground.”
The moment his hands flew up in the air, Fab drew her Walther. “What the heck?” she hissed.
“One wrong move, and I’ll blow your arm off,” I threatened, my tone letting the man know I wasn’t bluffing. “I’m not going to tell you again to drop the holster.” I turned to Fab. “There’s a woman inside, and since she’s gagged, I’m certain she’s not here of her own free will.”
Globe made a move for his gun, and Fab shot him through the forearm.
“Bitch,” he hissed. He fumbled with the buckle of the holster, grunting. When he finally got it undone, it fell to the concrete.
“No name-calling.” I shook my finger at him. “You’ve got bigger problems. If a neighbor heard the shot, the cops are on their way.” I turned to Fab. “You need to call a paramedic.”
“I’ll deal with this.” Fab closed the distance between her and Globe, kicking the holster away. She picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. Glancing in my direction, she said. “You go check on what’s going on inside.” She pulled out her phone, punching in a number.
Entering the house, I crossed the wood floor to where the woman was tied to a chair, and untied the red bandana used for a gag. “You okay?”
She worked her jaw and nodded.
Examining the knots on her wrists, I knew that I didn’t stand a chance of untying them. Globe had secured them tightly with no wiggle room. I’d need a knife, which had me wincing and rethinking the idea.
“Do you have a name?” I asked.
“Carly,” she coughed. “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?”
The last thing I wanted to hear was an excuse for Globe’s behavior. “Fab,” I yelled. “Your expertise is needed in here pronto.”
“You don’t understand. We have a special relationship. We play games, and this is one of those times.” Carly’s cheeks were turning pink.
It took a minute to click. “What’s your safe word?” Mother wasn’t the only one to sneak a peek at one of Fab’s naughty books.
Carly didn’t know what I was talking about and didn’t bother to hide it.
“I’m not going to lecture you on your choices, but there are some things you should study up on before indulging in.”
Carly didn’t bother to make eye contact as she said, “I love Globe, and I know he feels the same. I don’t want any police called.” She added, “I have warrants and don’t want to go to jail.”
Well, swell!
Fab led a docile Globe through the French doors by his good arm. The other arm had paper towels wrapped around it, a find from the outdoor kitchen. His whole demeanor change had me suspicious.
“I have no skill untying knots.” I pointed to Carly.
“Got Mr. Newton on the phone, filled him in, and he’s on his way.” Fab pushed Globe forward, since he’d dug in his feet suddenly.
After a slight hesitation, he broke into a run, straight to Carly, and threw himself at her feet. “Carly, don’t leave me.”
Fab whipped out a miniature switchblade. When she released the blade, Globe looked up and yelled, “Noo.” He threw his arms around Carly.
“Calm down,” Fab yelled. “I’m only going to cut the knots.”
“I’ll do it.” Globe held out his hand.
“Get back,” Fab ordered. “Carly gets so much as a scratch, and it will be due to your histrionics.” She moved behind the woman’s chair, waiting for him to back up, which he did, sort of, his good hand clenching the material of her pants.
Fab sliced through the knots, throwing the remnants of the rope on the floor.
Carly gathered Globe’s head in her lap, stroking his hair.
Fab pulled me aside while the lovebirds spoke in quiet tones. “Globe lost his wife last year and flipped out. He was doing well with his recovery before he met Carly, who’s a dead ringer for the deceased.”
“During any part of this little adventure, did you or Mr. Newton wonder whether Carly’s safety was in jeopardy?”
“Mr. Newton assured me that Globe’s harmless.”
The roar of a helicopter could be heard overhead. Fab and I watched out the window as the chopper landed on the volleyball court. The door opened, stairs came down, and an older gentleman got off first, followed by two other men, one with a small medical bag.
I sank into a chair that backed up to the wall next to a credenza, a prime spot to watch what would unfold next in the reunion of father and son while staying out of the way. Fab and her client met at the door and conferred in a tone that wasn’t meant to be overheard.
The two men planted themselves on either side of Globe. One reached down and tried to pull him up off the floor, which turned difficult, as the man decided not to cooperate. “I’m not going anywhere without Carly,” he whined, his arms wrapped around her legs.
It was clear the man had had enough of Globe’s resistance. He leaned over and whispered in the other man’s ear. Globe registered shock, then stood and claimed a chair next to Carly, who patted his hand. The man I assumed to be the doctor unwrapped the paper towel and checked the wound.
I overheard him say, “Clean exit.”
He cleaned and bandaged Globe’s arm, and while Globe was occupied in conversation with Carly, the doctor whipped out a hypodermic needle and injected him. Globe yipped and struggled, held fast by the other man. After a minute, he calmed. Each man grabbed an elbow and led him out to the waiting helicopter.
Another man strode around the back of the house. Judging by the uniform, he was a chauffeur… or resembled one anyway. It wasn’t his first visit, as he helped himself to a soda and leaned against the patio table, downing half the can.
It surprised me when the helicopter took off with Globe and the two men, but without Carly or Mr. Newton. Carly sobbed, apparently caught off guard at being left behind.
Mr. Newton stepped away from Fab to take a call that lasted seconds, then crossed the room to talk to Carly.
I beelined to Fab�
�s side. “Carly?”
“She’s going to be fine. Mr. Newton promised to help her with her problems. He’s taking care of everything—getting her a lawyer, and the doctor that just left recommend she see a psychiatrist.”
“Not that I don’t trust your client…” Which I didn’t. “But I’m going to speak to Carly. I want to know that she’s agreeing to whatever Newton has planned of her own volition and isn’t being coerced.”
As I walked away, I heard Mr. Newton ask Fab, “Can you trust her?”
“You okay?” I asked Carly, sitting next to her.
“I’m fine.” She twisted a lock of blond hair around her finger and tugged. “Mr. Newton says he can keep me out of jail, and all I have to do is not tell anyone about knowing his son or what happened here today. I’m good with that. I didn’t want to agree not to contact Globe again, but I’d rather have my freedom.”
Mr. Newton appeared in front of us and held his hand out to Carly. “Come, my dear, the limo is here.” She stood, and he hooked his arm around her shoulders and led her outside and around the side of the house.
His paternal tone caught me off guard, and I wondered if he was sincere. If he wasn’t, he’d perfected it to a tee. I might as well have not been standing there for all he acknowledged me—not so much as the slightest glance.
“I’ve finished locking up, so we’re free to go,” Fab said. On the way down the brick path, she paused. “I don’t think this needs to be said, but your appearance caught Mr. Newton off guard and he wanted me to stress that the confidentiality agreement I signed extends to you also.”
“The only exception would be if Carly’s name shows up in the news followed by a story about how she met with an unfortunate accident. You’re lucky I can’t swing you around by your hair for all the details you left out on this job.”
Fab tossed her hair in my direction, laughed, and scooted out of my reach, running to the car.
Chapter Eight
“Not talking to me?” Fab sniffed as she headed back toward the Cove.
“Hard time shaking off how sad that case of yours was.”
Someone laid on the horn and had me craning my neck around the headrest to see out the driver’s side window. The limo next to us looked close enough to take out the entire side of the SUV.
“Is that driver drunk?” I asked in disgust.
Fab signaled and pulled onto the shoulder. “I’ll be right back.” She slid from behind the wheel. The limo had already pulled in front of us, the driver getting out and walking around to the passenger side to open the door. His jacket was open, holster visible. Fab stuck her head in the limo.
Another client? I groaned. Who holds a business meeting alongside a busy highway?
The conversation was short, and when Fab came back to the SUV, the limo driver continued to stand by the open door. Fab opened the driver’s side door, reached behind the seat, and slid out her purse. She grabbed her phone from the console and tossed it in. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch up with you at home.”
Fab slammed the door as I screamed, “Get back here.” I reached over, and blasted the horn, which neither Fab nor the driver acknowledged as she climbed into the limo.
Having learned from the best, I retrieved my phone and captured a pic of the license plate as the limo driver slid back behind the wheel. Unhooking the seatbelt, I crawled over into the driver’s seat.
“When I get my hands on her…” I merged into traffic and sped after the limo. It had a head start that I planned to remedy.
Who she was driving down the road with… I had no clue. I knew full well that if the shoes were reversed, she wouldn’t let me disappear into the Keys. By now, she would’ve nudged the bumper of the limo a few times, each time with more pressure applied to the gas pedal. Speeding up behind the limo, I hit the brakes, planning to tailgate and hopefully not cause an accident.
The driver signaled, getting off on a side road, making a loop around, and heading back in the direction we came. Several miles later, he turned off again, this time winding through a residential airport community and pulling onto the landing strip a few feet from a helicopter. The security arm went up, and I followed close behind, parked next to the limo and jumped out.
Fab climbed gracefully out of the back, one long leg after the other. “I told you…” she said in a huff.
“If you think you’re going anywhere with whomever is in that car, think again.” I held up my phone. “The license number has been forwarded to Creole. And guess what? He’s on the phone right now.” I’d hit speed dial before I got out of the car and knew he could hear me. “He has instructions to call the cops if he hears me scream.”
A dark-haired man climbed out of the limo, towering over Fab by a foot. His blues eyes intently checked me over from head to toe.
“I warned you she wouldn’t go away,” Fab told the man.
Checking him out in the same bold way he did me, I realized the face looked familiar. A longtime client? Sixties… maybe… being in tip-top shape made it hard to tell. If Didier were here, he’d admire the tailor-made suit.
The man barked at Fab in French, and she laughed. Hooking her arm in his, she nudged him forward.
“Madison Westin.” Fab’s smile was bigger than before. “I’d like you to meet my father, Caspian Dumont.” She kissed his cheek. “He knows all about you.”
That makes one of us.
“Is it true that you’ve been instrumental in helping reign in my daughter’s wild side?” There was no hiding the smug amusement in his voice.
“It’s a full-time job and a thankless one.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
“Excuse us.” I grabbed Fab’s hand, jerking her out of hearing distance. “Is this man really your father, or is this some weird client story you’re concocting?” I already knew the answer, as father and daughter shared many of the same striking features. It would’ve been hard not to notice all the ways Fab resembled her father. “Dumont? Merceau?”
“It’s a long story, and one I should’ve shared a long time ago.” Fab sighed. “Caspian’s in town for a few hours, and I’d like to spend them with him before he leaves.”
“You’re not setting foot in any direction until you tell me where you’re going.”
“Caspian purchased an island about ten miles off shore to be near his only daughter. We’re helicoptering over.”
“What do I tell Didier? If he calls, and I’m sure he will, I’m not lying to him.” I grimaced, realizing I’d forgotten that Creole was still on the phone. I lifted it to my ear. “Babe, I’ll call you back when I get in the car.”
“Don’t you dare disconnect.” Creole unleashed a low, rumbling growl. “Just let Fab think you did.”
I blew a kiss through the phone, and Fab rolled her eyes.
“Didier knows about Caspian. In fact, they’ve met several times and get along quite well. I called Didier in the limo, and he’s on his way. He’ll be here in about an hour, and the helicopter will be waiting.”
Mr. Dumont had run out of patience, judging by his body language and tapping foot.
Fab grabbed my hand and pulled me back over to her father.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madison Westin.” Mr. Dumont leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
“And you, Mr. Dumont.”
“Please call me Caspian.”
“You’ll be home when?” I asked Fab.
“Didier and I are spending the night. We’ll be home after we have breakfast with Caspian.”
“You know I prefer Papa,” he grumped.
“If you’re not home by noon and I haven’t received a call, I’m calling the police.”
Caspian appeared amused at my bold warning, threat, however he wanted to take it. It was a promise.
“Really, Madison.” Fab mimicked her father’s disgruntled tone.
Ignoring her, I turned to Caspian. “You’re lucky that our roles aren’t reversed. Fab would’ve shot you by now and asked qu
estions while you lay on the ground, blood coating the gravel.”
Caspian laughed heartily. “That’s my girl.” He pulled Fab to his side, kissing her on the cheek. “When we meet again, Madison Westin, you can introduce me to the fine cuisine of Jake’s and a round of poker.” His eyes twinkled in amusement.
“Once my mother finds out, she’ll be organizing a big dinner to introduce you to Fab’s American family.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Caspian said. He draped his arm across Fab’s shoulders, leading her to the steps of the helicopter.
I watched as the duo climbed inside and the blades started whirling. The limo pulled out and headed to the exit. I got behind the wheel of my SUV, putting the phone to my ear. “You hang up?”
“Of course not,” Creole said. “I’m thinking there’s material for my next book in this.”
“They’re taking off.” I grabbed a couple of pictures of the number on the tail. “You hear all that?”
“All the time we’ve known Fab and Didier, and not one mention of their families. Didier’s got a lot of nerve calling Fab secretive. You think this story of hers is on the up and up?”
“Fab would be annoyed to be asked that question, but that comes from being creative with the truth.”
Creole laughed. “Creative, huh?”
The helicopter could still be seen in the distance, cruising over the water. I started the engine and headed back to the highway.
“Side by side, it’s impossible to miss the resemblance. The open adoration when she smiled at him. I believe that he’s her father and not some pervy client. Watching them together, I felt a pang, missing my own father, and I was in junior high when he died.”
“Not having had a great dad, I always envied other kids for having a good relationship with theirs. I haven’t thought about him much since his death. All my good memories are thanks to my mom.” After a pause, he asked, “You headed this way?”
“I’ll pick up food. You make the drinks, and I’m thinking hot tub,” I said in a husky whisper.
“Done. Drive safe.”
Chapter Nine
“I love you.”
Psycho in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 15) Page 5