Psycho in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 15)

by Deborah Brown

  “Hold on a second.” Fab wiggled away from Didier’s arm. “It’s a great idea. Madison and I can live at opposite ends of the street, hike down the beach for morning coffee.”

  “Or meet in the middle.” Even I had to admit it was a good idea, but I still wasn’t fond of the changes that would be happening.

  “Since it’s your father’s surprise, he should be the one to decide,” Didier said.

  Fab scowled at him, making it clear she didn’t like his idea.

  “I’ve not been invited to Creole’s house,” Mother huffed. “So I have no clue where you’re talking about.”

  “I’ve got a general idea; I’ll drive you by it,” Spoon offered. “If a wild redhead comes running out brandishing a Glock, we’ll know we’re in the right place.”

  “It appears, Mother, that we’re the last two to know,” Brad said with a smirk.

  “Three.” Liam raised his hand. “I want in on the drive-by.”

  Rodney spoke up, irritated at being labeled the bad guy. “I thought you owned the property.”

  “Warning still stands.” He didn’t need to know whose name was on the deed, and I knew he couldn’t garner the information from a records check, as it was held in trust.

  “Once you get Rod dealt with, it’s my house again.” Creole nipped my ear.

  “Are the other neighbors interested in selling?” Spoon asked Caspian.

  He inclined his head toward the realtor.

  “The owners of the house Fabiana is interested in are eager to sell, especially when they heard the word ‘cash.’” Rodney rubbed his fingers together. “The other two are vacation homes, and I managed to track them down. There’s interest.”

  “Tell Caspian your plan, the one you shared with us,” I said to Fab.

  She hesitated until Didier nudged her. “I got to thinking that it was the perfect spot for a family compound.” She detailed her plan.

  Brad’s laugh conveyed not interested without having to say the words.

  Caspian tapped Rodney’s shoulder. He leaned over and said something, and Rodney stood. “Good night. Nice meeting all of you.” His tone didn’t hold an ounce of sincerity. He didn’t run, but close, and took the outside stairs down to the bottom.

  Another uniformed man appeared and whispered in Caspian’s ear. He stood, saying, “Dinner’s ready. Shall we go inside?” and led the way back into the house.

  * * *

  After dinner, we were ushered back to the patio. The fire pit had been lit, lanterns lined the perimeter, and more lights crisscrossed the sky overhead.

  Caspian signaled for our drinks to be refilled. “I’d like to learn more about you and get to know all of you better.”

  Everyone shared an abbreviated bio. Caspian’s interest perked up when he found out Spoon owned JS Auto Body, and he spent the majority of the time engaged in conversation with Spoon, peppering him with questions about cars, mostly vintage, moving on to boats and aircraft, and inquiring about his experience.

  The only person to not share a bio was the man himself.

  I was certain everyone noticed, but no one spoke up and said, Hey dude, what about you?

  Eventually, Creole held out his hand, I stood, and he found us a spot overlooking the water that wasn’t bathed in light. He brushed his lips over my cheek.

  “We can’t smooch like teenagers.” I laughed at his frown.

  “I wanna go home,” Creole whined. “The problem with being helicoptered out here is we can’t just get up and leave.”

  “Another reason we’re perfect for one another—I’m ready to go home too.”

  “Good news: Just got the thumbs up from Didier, and Fab’s talking to Caspian, so I’m thinking we’re close to being out of here.” He clasped my hand, and we joined the others.

  Caspian took out his phone, ordered the helicopter to be made ready, then turned back to Fab. “What kind of morning appointment?” His voice was laced with suspicion.

  It was fun watching the two of them together. Heaven help both of them if they decided to get into a stare-down.

  “Three drug dealers rented sports cars and failed to return them.” She held up her hand. “No, I’m not going to chase them down. I’ve got a guy who enjoys that kind of work. He only complains when he gets shot at.” She smiled, not quite “crazy girl” but a definite taste, and Caspian wasn’t amused.

  His head snapped around to Didier. “I hope you’re keeping a close eye on my daughter.”

  Didier half-laughed, his irritation on the rise. “That’s a job for three men. If you think it’s easy, I dare you to try.”

  Creole and Brad had their heads down, shoulders shaking. Everyone within hearing distance knew what a sneaky handful the woman could be.

  “Oh, calm down.” Fab stamped her foot. “I’m doing much better.”

  Liam rolled his eyes. Mother chuckled.

  “Our helicopter awaits us.” Taking charge, Fab waved her arm and led the way.

  The ride back seemed shorter.

  Once back in the limo, Fab said to Mother, “Girl lunch. You decide the day.”

  “Wait until my police scanner arrives,” I said. “Then, after lunch, we’ll see if we can locate a crime going down and speed over. Won’t that be fun?”

  “Like hell,” Spoon growled.

  “Pranked you.” I laughed at him.

  “That’s not funny.”

  Mother whispered something that tinged the man’s cheeks pink.

  Brad crossed his fingers in front of his face.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  The security gates opened, and after a car count, I determined that Fab and Toady were the only two there.

  Early on, GC had sent over another report detailing Patty’s history, including details about her family, which I’d failed to follow up on. Instead, I’d shoved the file to the bottom of the growing stack. Once we learned about Mila, I knew I had to do something about it immediately. If there were more family members like Patty, I didn’t want them showing up on my doorstep to make a claim on Mila.

  Feeling guilty for dragging my feet, I’d caught Toady with a few days’ downtime and asked him to make the trip to Charleston to check them out. He’d just gotten back and summoned me to Fab’s office.

  I parked and hiked up the stairs. Annoyed when I turned the knob and found it locked, I kicked the bottom of the door with my heel. “Open up,” I yelled.

  Toady threw the door open, grinning. “Come in, sweet Madison.” He flourished his arm in a wide sweep.

  “You’re obviously not going to break the door, so I can’t get a new one out of you,” Fab said. “You get dirt on it, you pay to have it repainted.”

  “I’ll ask Didier nicely, and maybe he’ll take one of his guys off the job site to come over and take care of it for you.” I bet I’d never hear another word on the subject.

  I grabbed a chair and started to drag it across the concrete floor, pausing to make sure I hadn’t left skid marks. Toady ran over, picking it up and setting it down next to Fab’s desk.

  “In the future, it would be nice if my chair didn’t get moved all around,” I told Fab in a lecturing tone.

  Fab shook her head. “You’re annoying today.”

  “Can’t get out of practice.”

  Toady cleared his throat. “Just finished emailing you a copy of my report. Would’ve done it sooner, but I just got the address from Frenchie. These reports aren’t my strong suit, so don’t expect no thesis. Anyway… good enough excuse to come over and be close to my one true love.” He flashed Fab a one-tooth grin. “You got any questions?”

  Fab’s face was a mask, not showing what she thought of being the object of Toady’s affection.

  “You’re in one piece, so that’s a good sign,” I said.

  “The Thorsons are nice people,” Toady said. “Patty, the youngest of their brood, was a normal, healthy, happy child growing up. In her first year of college, she had a break with reality, the doctors called it—went c
razy, I say—and never really recovered. The family did everything they could to help her, but she resisted at every turn. They were relieved when she packed up and left one day.”

  “I imagine they felt guilty,” I said. “Not knowing how to help her and running out of patience.”

  “Since Patty didn’t stay in touch, they knew nothing about what she’d been doing. Then they got the notification of her death and hired someone to investigate.” Toady sneezed into the crook of his arm, taking a deep breath. “When they learned everything that Patty had put Brad through, they figured he couldn’t take it anymore, snapped, and killed her. They felt sorry for him, understanding how he could be pushed to the brink.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve got a smoking gun in your pocket?” I asked. “Anyone mentioned other than Brad?”

  Toady shook his head. “I was upfront and told them I was there to investigate any other potential suspects. They had nothing but did wish me luck on my way out the door. They don’t want the wrong person behind bars.”

  “Think they were truthful?” Fab asked.

  “They weren’t hiding anything; I’d have ferreted it out. They were a nice middle-class couple, good neighborhood. They had pictures all around—saw a few of Patty, cute kid, and even more of their grandchildren. It was clear they doted on them kids. I left, happy for Patty’s parents that she wasn’t an only child.”

  “It’s sad that Patty didn’t want help,” I said. “Her life might’ve taken a different turn.”

  “Frenchie told me about your visit to Cardio. I’ll go interview him—I’ve got a way of getting info out of people.” Toady cracked his knuckles. “And that woman friend of Patty’s you located. Women are attracted to the Toads; they’re putty in my hands.”

  I did my best not to squirm at the sight of his fur-splotched hands, sizing him up in his usual beater shirt and, for a change, shorts and hiking boots. “There’s one more guy that befriended Patty that we’ve yet to locate. Folsom Diggs. They lived together before she met Brad.”

  “I say unleash Toady on all of them.” Fab’s lips tilted up at the corners in a hint of a smirk.

  “You need to be careful,” I told Toady. “Cardio is odd, to say the least. As for the waitress, she wanted money, and I’m not adverse to another pay-off for good information. You’ll be reimbursed.” I liked the idea and hoped that it might yield something we hadn’t been able to get.

  “Okay, ladies.” Toady stood and bowed.

  “You’re forgetting your other update.” Fab motioned for him to sit again.

  “Oh yeah, the dead guy.” Toady threw himself back down, almost toppling the chair over. “The good news is that he’s still dead.”

  “Dow Gibbons?” I shook my head at Fab. “I thought we were investigating that case.”

  “We were… until the only address GC could come up with was some backwoods weed patch north of here. Tell her the rest.”

  “Dow’s got a brother, Dex—not identical, but you can tell they share DNA. He was in prison when his brother died and shortly after got released and assumed his identity, living off the largess his bro left behind.”

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “Leave him alone,” Toady said in exasperation. “He’s not hurting nothing, fishing every day. You tattle to the gravediggers, the cops will get involved, and Dex’ll go back to prison, when he shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

  “Do I dare ask why he was incarcerated?”

  “Double murder,” Fab said, a note of glee in her voice at being the one to share.

  “He was exonerated,” Toady hissed. “DNA got him off.”

  “As far as I’m concerned…” I brushed my hands together. “I didn’t hear any of this and however you close out your case is up to you.” I proceeded to glare at Fab, whose smirk vanished.

  “You upset Frenchie,” Toady growled.

  I growled back.

  Toady jerked upright. A smile curving his lips, he gave me the once-over, as though we hadn’t met before.

  Eww.

  “Don’t you worry none; I’ll take care of this.” He attempted to pat Fab’s hand and instead made contact with the desk. “I’ll head over to the hot dog stand and tell the diggers that Dow is dead, which is the truth, and that he did have a nearly identical bro who disappeared after he got sprung. I’ll leave my card in case of another sighting. How’s that?”

  Fab clapped. “Call me if things don’t go as planned.”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty head.” Toady motioned to Fab as though asking if he was good to go. She nodded. “I’m getting right on this, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about those other two. You think about my offer.” He gave Fab a lecherous wink.

  I squirmed. To her credit, Fab remained emotionless. Another trick I needed to hone.

  Once the door had closed and his boots clunked down the stairs, Fab lowered her head to her desk, covering it with her arms. After a minute, she turned her head to the side. “I think Toady knows this Dex character. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s already relocated to a new patch of weeds.”

  I stuck my fingers in my ears. “I’m more interested in the offer he’s talking about. Don’t tell me nothing.”

  Fab sat back up. “Toady wants to work for me exclusively.”

  “Do you have enough work?” It wasn’t a bad idea—the man had proven to be an asset and never balked at danger.

  “I would if I took Brick’s lowlife cases. Apparently, he can’t keep a reliable team. Imagine that.”

  I groaned at the mention of Brick’s name.

  Fab ignored me. “The recent case, the cars—three in total weren’t returned on their due date and the client’s phones were disconnected. I suspect burners.” She leaned back in her chair. “Toady rounded the cars up in a day and a half. Brick was so impressed that, for once, he stopped hounding me to come back to work.”

  “That was fast. No problems?”

  “Well…”

  Oh, I don’t want to hear this.

  “There was an exchange of bullets, nicked Toady in the thigh. Shooter wasn’t a very good shot.”

  “Since Toady was just here, and I didn’t see bandages, I’m assuming no long-term recovery was prescribed.”

  “Just a flesh wound. He carries a first aid kit and ‘don’t need no trip to any hospital.’” She used air quotes.

  “The others… I’m assuming they’re the drug dealers you mentioned to Caspian?”

  “They’re not the smartest criminals. Cops got called and found drugs in the trunk of one of the cars. Hauled them all off to jail with added charges for guns and such. One actually resisted arrest, which won’t go well for him in court.”

  “And the Toads?”

  “He had legit paperwork, and once again, cop friends of his showed up—he must know the whole force. Anyway, it made the process go smoother. Here’s an interesting tidbit—when Brick’s name got mentioned, the cop acquaintance told Toady to watch his back. His parting shot was, ‘Screw Brick at your own peril.’” Fab knew that firsthand, which was one of the reasons she’d finally distanced herself from the man.

  “That’s a heartwarming story, but what does it have to do with you having enough work for a full-time employee?” I asked.

  “Toady would still be independent, but I’d be his only client. He’s got other income that pays his bills.”

  I tapped my finger on her desk. No way was I asking what. I didn’t have to know everything.

  “Brick wants to snag him from me, which is not happening. But in order to keep that from happening, I’d have to take over all the problems with bail jumpers, rental cars and, I suppose, anything that goes wrong at one of his pawn shops.”

  Brick loved businesses that screamed cash.

  “Don’t forget the occasional stripper hightailing it out of that club of his.”

  “You know there’s almost always a wretched boyfriend in the mix. So far, Brick hasn’t been directly involved except to ri
de to their rescue. Modern day Galahad.” Fab rolled her eyes.

  “He gets credit for paying whoever he hires to do the ‘saving,’ since he never gets his hands dirty.” We’d tracked down a couple of his girls, who were neck-deep in trouble that included illegal activities. Brick had them relocated. “Your plan is turn Brick jobs over to Toady. Keeps you in good with Brick and, at the same time, out of trouble with Didier. Do I have that right?”

  “I’m thinking about making my company a boutique agency.”

  “That means… what exactly? Catering to rich clients who don’t have the… nerve to go commit their own felonies? You know how that goes—you get caught and they’ve never heard of you.”

  “Putting it like that makes it sound so common.”

  I leaned back in my chair and laughed. The annoyance on her face made me laugh again.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  A grey sedan pulled into the driveway and parked. Mrs. Kennedy opened the back door and reached inside, lifting Mila out and setting her on the ground. She grasped one of Mila’s hands and, with the other, grabbed a small suitcase.

  I’d visited Mila as often as her foster mom, Holly, would let me. It wasn’t long before I resorted to bribery, offering to include all the children in story time. As it turned out, they chose to run around in circles, yelling—no quiet voices outside.

  During all the time I’d spent with Mila, she still hadn’t spoken. She eagerly sat on my lap and let me hug her, and the last visit, I got to kiss her cheek. I always left with promises to be back. Holly confided that I’d made more headway with Mila than she had in the six months the little girl lived in her house. She’d mentioned the two other homes that Mila’d been placed in before hers but hadn’t offered any information as to why they didn’t work out, and I’d been hesitant to ask.

  Mila clearly enjoyed our one-on-one time, and I planned to make sure she had more of that. Every member of the family was eager to meet her, and she’d soon find herself showered in attention.

  It took business acquaintances and favors to expedite the paperwork, all of it accomplished by Brad’s attorney. Creole, Didier, and Brad had installed all the required safety features, plus a few that Fab suggested, and the house passed inspection on the first visit.