Psycho in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 15)

by Deborah Brown

  “Great idea. Don’t forget to reimburse yourself with interest and bill Crum. Due immediately. If he balks, call me.”

  Kevin eyed the table. “This is nasty. I need gloves.”

  “Oh, brother.” Mac stomped over.

  I put my hand in the center of her chest, and she came to a halt. “Kevin can be chivalrous, even if it’s forced on him.”

  Fab pulled a pair of latex gloves from her back pocket and handed them to Kevin. “You owe me.”

  “You plan ahead in case something illegal comes your way last minute?” Kevin snarked.

  “In exchange for one of the many favors you owe me, one day I’d like to inventory your pockets,” Mac said to Fab. “The most interesting stuff comes out of them.”

  “Don’t go taking after Fab; you’ll end up in jail.” Kevin snapped the gloves on. “Before I go and do yet another good deed, pour yourself a cup of coffee.”

  Picking up the pitcher, wishing I had a pair of gloves, I stared down into it—it looked like coffee. Took a sniff—it smelled like coffee.

  “Let me be a gentleman.” He took the pitcher from my hand and picked up a cup, filling it halfway. He glanced down, a devilish smile on his face. “Here you go.”

  I reached for the coffee and, at the same time, noticed something floating on top. It looked all too familiar—a cockroach, the flying kind. I yelped, and the cup flew in the air, landing in the bushes. “What the…” Okay, I knew they were the baby variety, but still.

  “It gets better.” Kevin slowly poured the contents of the pitcher into the bushes. When it was almost empty, he tipped it toward me, and I saw there were six more of the cockroach’s siblings or friends. “Miss January shared with me that one morning, she made coffee for Nedly… must be a family name.”

  “The rest of the story.” Fab snapped her fingers.

  “When they finished the last drop, that’s when they noticed the dead roaches languishing in the bottom. Both of those nitwits thought it tasted better than plain.”

  “I’ll get the bug dude out here tomorrow,” Mac said.

  “Happened after old Nedly moved in—his idea of a housewarming gift?” Kevin dropped the pitcher.

  “I was here when he moved in; he didn’t have any personal belongings,” I said.

  “You need to stay informed.” Kevin smirked. “Nedly found himself a cubby hole in an abandoned gas station restroom and figured it would make good closet space. How do I know? Caught the twosome lurking around one night and offered them a ride home. Told them, in exchange for not taking them to jail, they’d have to give me the straight scoop.”

  “That wasn’t a crime,” I said. “But I’m surprised you didn’t haul them off to jail anyway.”

  “I have my moments of being a nice guy.”

  “I thought Nedly owned a boat,” I said.

  “That dry-rotted shell had about half sunk when it got pulled out of the water and hauled to impound. At some point, it will end up at the dump. Even if Nedly had the money, why would he bail it out? It’ll never be seaworthy.”

  “You need to get moving,” Fab directed. “We’ve got another appointment.”

  Kevin folded up the table, piled the chairs on top, and carried them to Mac’s truck.

  I picked up the pitcher, flung out the rest of the bugs floating in the bottom, and handed it to Mac as she followed Kevin. “Make sure this never turns up again. This wasn’t fit for use when the previous owner tossed it.”

  “Not sure how helpful you were, but thank you anyway,” I said to Fab.

  “Cockroaches.” Fab shuddered. “Let’s go to the beach and get tacos, my treat.”

  “I should probably check on everything before I leave.”

  “That’s a bad idea.” Fab pushed me in the direction of the SUV and shouted to Mac, “Call if you can’t handle it yourself.”

  Mac stuck out her tongue and waved.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  When Fab and I got back to the house, we found Brad sitting by the pool, soaking up the sun, beer bottle by his foot, clicking away on his phone.

  He stood and hugged me. “It’s not often, like never, that I get to break into your house.”

  “It’s not illegal, since you have a key. I’m loving this impromptu visit.” I returned his hard hug. “You should drop by more often. I liked seeing your car parked out front.”

  Fab waved from the doorway and disappeared back inside.

  “Depending on what this says, you might get your wish.” He handed me an envelope as we sat in the chairs under the umbrella.

  The return address was that of the lab where he went to get the DNA test. “That was fast.”

  “I paid for expedited—seventy-two hours—or I’d have to wait for who knows how long. The waiting was getting to me as it was, and I couldn’t think about anything other than ‘is she or isn’t she my daughter?’ I think I’ll be a bit disappointed if I’m not the father.”

  “I’ll be disappointed too.” I handed him back the envelope.

  “I didn’t want to open it by myself.” He fingered the envelope. Flipping it over, he ripped it open and removed the paper. “I’m a father,” he said, a shimmer of tears in his eyes.

  “Congrats, Dad,” I said, teary-eyed.

  “A little girl.” He fingered the report. “I perused parenting books online and made a list—guess I’ll be ordering as soon as I get home.”

  “You were a great big brother, and our parents were excellent role models.” Happy memories brought a smile to my face. “If Mila is like either of us, you’re going to have your hands full.”

  “The report your guy sent over about Mila being quiet and introverted made me sad. I’m hoping, with our outgoing family, that we’ll have her yelling and running around in no time.” Brad squeezed my hand. “I’m holding you to your promise to become her guardian until my legal mess is settled… and beyond, if necessary.”

  “I’ll call the lawyer you chose right away. Emerson Grace, huh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Interesting that your criminal lawyer’s daughter followed in Mom’s footsteps, except in family law.”

  “Met her at Ruthie’s office. I think Emerson only gave me her business card to annoy her mother.”

  “Or maybe she’d like to get to know you better. Duh!”

  “Probably not.” Brad laughed. “I’m thinking your sex appeal dims when you’ve been charged with murder.”

  “There are women out there that marry inmates.”

  “I wish you didn’t know this stuff.”

  “Just be happy that it’s not firsthand experience and I’m not married to Bubba the knitter,” I teased. “Back to business. I’m going to tell Emerson that I don’t want any delays in getting the process going to get Mila out of foster care. To that end, I’ll be available whenever my presence is needed.”

  “Pretty sure Emerson was surprised to hear from me, but she took the time to answer all my questions. She also thought your chances of getting custody were good, especially if I stay out of it.” His smile was tinged with sadness. “You’re going to like her—she has a great sense of humor. I also want to be a part of every meeting with Emerson.”

  “I’ll keep you in the loop every step of the way, so expect lots of email. No ignoring my calls.” I held up my right hand in an “I swear” gesture. “I’ve been doing some research, and the sooner the first home visit happens, the better. It’s my hope that if I take advantage of every visiting opportunity offered, not only will we get to know one another quicker, but the transition of moving here will be easier. I have to calm my own enthusiasm and take a breath, knowing I can’t make the process happen any faster.”

  “Whirlwind Madison.” Brad laughed.

  “If it’s allowed, I’ll get a load of pictures. If not, maybe Fab can sneak a pic or a dozen.”

  “When do I tell Mother?”

  “Anytime, now that you know for sure. Social Services might want to interview her, though it might not be as intensive for her, since
she’s not applying to have Mila live with her. I’m only guessing. Either way, I don’t have any doubt that we Westins will pass muster.” Mother wouldn’t like that Brad had waited to tell her but would understand his not wanting to get her hopes up. “Make it a special mother-son moment. Once the shock wears off, she’s going to be ecstatic.”

  “What about Patty being the mother?” Brad frowned.

  “It wouldn’t be Mother’s first choice, but that won’t be an issue. It’s rude to say, but the process will be a lot easier now that Patty can’t interfere; she’d have blocked it any way she could. What surprises me is that no one from Patty’s family was interested in taking Mila.”

  “Do they even know? Patty probably kept it a secret from them, like she did me. It’s hard to believe that she wouldn’t make the well-being of her daughter a priority; there wasn’t a single reason for Mila to end up in foster care,” Brad seethed. “I’m going to get this father thing down and make up for her first three years.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It’s not like you knew.” I side-hugged him. “Just know that you and Mila will have family at your beck and call.”

  “We’ll have to introduce Mila to the family slowly, so we don’t overwhelm her. Ixnay on a family party where a fight breaks out.”

  We laughed.

  “In fact, no more fights of any kind at family affairs,” he said sternly. “We’re going to have to discuss our problems like other people. Use our quiet voices.”

  “I love you in Dad mode.” I smiled. “One thing’s for certain: Mother will throw a party.”

  We sat in amiable silence for a few minutes.

  “Any idea how long the process takes?” Brad asked.

  “Depends on a lot of factors, the biggest being the case worker assigned to the file and how many other files she has sitting on her desk. We have several factors in our favor, one being biological ties. Plus, they’ve yet to find a permanent home for Mila—the current family is only interested in a temporary placement.”

  “I’ll personally remind everyone to be on their best behavior when talking to the social worker.” Brad checked his watch. “Let’s take this inside. I’ll call Emerson and see if she’s still in her office so we can get the ball rolling.”

  “Great idea, and perfect time for a conference call.”

  It surprised me to see Fab sitting at the island. I was also surprised that she hadn’t joined us out on the patio. She’d made a pitcher of iced tea and another of flavored water and set out glasses.

  Brad and I each claimed a stool. Brad pointed to the water, and I held up two fingers. Fab filled the glasses.

  “I can leave,” Fab said.

  “Pull up a seat.” Brad motioned to one, phone in hand. He scrolled through it, finding the number he was looking for, and waited while it rang. “Brad Westin for Ms. Grace.”

  It was the first time I’d heard Brad’s business voice, and it made me smile.

  “Good news.” He smiled at the phone and, after a pause, said, “I’m a dad.”

  Whatever her response was, it had him laughing. It was nice to see the stress drain from my brother’s face.

  “I was listening when you underscored patience, but the sooner we get things moving, the better, and my sister is on board and excited about getting started.” Another pause. Then he asked me, “Do you have time now to run over to Ms. Grace’s office?”

  “Absolutely.” I nodded and motioned for Fab to follow me into the living room so Brad could finish his call in private. “I didn’t ask what you thought, taking it for granted that it would be okay to add one more to the family. We’ll be aunties.”

  “Space is an issue, but I drew up a couple of living arrangement designs for how we could make it work. I have the file upstairs.”

  “I don’t suppose there’s a second set of plans for Creole’s?”

  “Got it covered. And on the nights that you and Creole want alone time, just wait until Mila is asleep and be back before she wakes up. Didier and I will take our little-girl-sitting responsibilities seriously.”

  “You’re amazing.” I smiled. “Mila’s going to be spoiled by all the people who’ll love her.”

  “There is one thing. I get first dibs on taking Mila shopping. Every little girl needs a cute dress and shoes.”

  “No stilettos.” I shook my finger at her.

  “I’m thinking she’ll have to wait for those until high school.”

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into bringing Mila into our lives.”

  “You’re crying,” Fab said in exasperation and slugged me in the arm.

  “Ouch,” I said pitifully. “What are you going to do when Mila cries?”

  “Scoop her into my arms, find out what the heck is going on, and if it’s because of someone else, that person is toast.”

  Fab’s fierceness made me laugh. “You can’t scare little kids.”

  “No, but I can pay a visit to their fathers and discuss the situation rationally.”

  “Does your idea of rational include nicking him with a bullet?”

  “Maybe.”

  Brad crossed over to the two of us, putting his arms around us. “You might as well come along. You can drive,” he said to Fab, then looked at me. “I assume you’ve filled her in on everything.”

  She beamed at him. “You’re the best faux-bro ever.”

  “The faux siblings.” I tried for a group hug and instead got the crazy look from both of them as we headed for the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Emerson Grace’s office was located on the opposite end of the same building as her mother’s, “Family Law” painted on the picture window. Made sense, since per the property tax office, Ruthie Grace owned the whole building.

  “I’m staying here,” Fab said. “I’ll check out who comes and goes. Maybe pay a visit to Counselor Grace, give her another business card.” She smiled secretively.

  The attorney was tough, demanding, and used to getting her way, but she’d met her match in Fab. I expected the phone to ring one of these days with a case. Hopefully, she wouldn’t expect anything that brought up grey-line issues… or as Creole called them, illegal ones.

  The yellow-and-white reception area had a cheerful ambience, with comfortable seating and a play area in the corner filled with toys. At the sound of the bell, Emerson came out of her office in a flattering red business suit, her brown hair pulled into a bun. She welcomed Brad and me, pointing us to chairs in front of her desk.

  Emerson removed her jacket and settled behind her desk. “I’m happy for you; I can see your excitement.” She smiled at Brad. “Once Mother clears you of the pending charges, we’ll go to court, get you full custody of Mila, and you can take your little girl home. In the meantime, your sister is the next best thing.”

  “When do we get started?” I asked, noting her framed credentials and awards. She’d had a first-class education.

  “I’m filing the paperwork tomorrow.” Emerson patted a file on her desk. “The first thing is to get visits for you and Mila. They’ll start out supervised, and if those go well, then you’ll get to meet with Mila alone. I have no doubt her case worker will move the process along to reunite Mila with her family. You can expect some home visits. The first will be scheduled, but just know that Social Services can drop in at any time. I’ve got a couple of contacts in the department and will call on them. Hopefully, they can speed things along.”

  “I wish I could contribute more to the process,” Brad said.

  Emerson noted the look of concern on his face. “That’s why you hired me.” She pushed a notepad in my direction. “Phone number. You’ll need to stop by first thing in the morning and sign documents.”

  “This is top priority for me, and with a little notice, I’m available anytime and will rearrange my schedule for anything you need,” I assured her. “When you set up the visit with Mila, I’ll take whatever time is convenient.”

  “I know it can seem like a nerve-wrac
king experience, but it can go smoothly, as long as you stick to the rules.” Emerson smiled reassuringly at Brad. “You both should read up on the visiting process and know what’s allowed and what isn’t.” She opened her drawer, removing two files and handing them across her desk.

  “Since I’m a newbie at this and children, I’m thinking about taking a picture book for the first visit.” I waited nervously for her response, half-expecting an eyeroll. “Beats staring at one another.”

  “That’s perfect.” Emerson clapped. “If you have any questions, anything at all that comes up that you’re unsure of, call me.”

  Brad murmured his agreement.

  I took that as “meeting over” and stood, but Brad didn’t move.

  “Meet you at the car,” he said to me.

  “Nice meeting you.” I smiled at Emerson. “See you tomorrow.” I showed myself out and was a bit surprised to see Fab sitting behind the wheel. I slid into the passenger seat.

  “We’re missing one,” Fab said.

  “Brad wanted to speak to his attorney alone. Like you, I’d like to eavesdrop, but sometimes I have to know when not to, and this was one of those times. I’m happy that Brad got over his anxiety about my helping.” I went on to summarize the meeting.

  “Your brother is protective, not stupid.” Fab made a face. “I told him he’d be a fool to turn down our help. I reassured him that I was your official hand-holder, if you did that sort of thing.”

  “We could hug.” I held out my arms, which she ignored. “Did you manage to barge into Counselor Grace’s office?”

  “Nooo.” Fab blew out an exasperated breath. “Got no response, even after kicking the door. You’ll be proud of me—I didn’t pick the lock to see if she was just being obstinate.”

  “Thank goodness. Now is not a good time for you to go to jail.”

  “I was thinking that ‘best behavior’ doesn’t apply to me until Mila comes to live with us.”

  “You’re going to need to set a good example, be someone Mila aspires to be.”