Mac locked the office door after everyone shuffled out. “They used my bathroom, I’m listening in,” she whispered.
I pushed opened the pool gate. “Have a seat.” I motioned to the chairs around a table, pulling up another one.
Apple fidgeted. “I told Angie not to worry that your job offer probably had nothing to do with sex. I was right, wasn’t I?”
Both Mac and Fab stared at me and laughed. It annoyed me that they both were enjoying my annoyance.
“Here’s the deal, girls. I’m part owner of Clean Bubbles a block down from Jake’s. It’s currently self-serve. I want to offer full service. In the beginning, half will stay coin operated. I want to hire the two of you to wash cars and keep the place clean and stocked.”
Angie came to life. “We get paid? Do we have to wear a uniform?”
“You get paid hourly and keep your tips. You wear what you want. A pair of shorts and T-shirt would be perfect. Shoes are a must for safety. No smoking in front of the customers, no showing up to work drunk, or getting drunk on the job.” Only time would tell if this came back to be a butt-biter.
“Grand re-opening is next week. A new sign is going up, lots of balloons, free soda or water for anyone who gets a car wash. One more thing, you do one illegal act on the property, and you’re fired.”
“Let’s talk, Apple.” Angie stood and walked to the other side of the pool. Apple followed.
“Good idea.” Mac nodded her head. “Every perv in town will stop to get their truck or bicycle washed.”
“I’m impressed,” Fab said. “I couldn’t get anyone to put hard cash that you’d make a profit and you might actually now.”
“I don’t see them doing anything illegal except maybe a blow job or two,” Mac said. “As long as they’re smart enough not to quote a price and accept donations they’ll be fine.”
What a terrible way to supplement one’s income.
“Ick.” Fab made a choking noise. “Blow jobs by donation. Men will be lined up with their pocket change.”
Apple and Angie came back to the table. “Are there set hours?” Apple asked. “Can Angie work by herself when I go to my other job?”
“I’m totally flexible. I’m sure you’ll want to tailor your hours to when you’d make the most tips, such as afternoons and weekends,” I said.
“We’re in. It’s going to be fun to roll in bubbles all day,” Apple said. “You should get us T-shirts that say ‘Clean Bubbles.’ Get a smaller size; we both can squeeze into a large.”
I had to admit Apple had a good idea. They were both well-endowed and didn’t seem too embarrassed to use them as a selling tool. “Keep in touch with Mac. She’ll have the details,” I said.
Apple wiped her hand on her pants and held it out. “Sorry, I forgot,” she said, and jerked it back. “Thanks for all your help. I really am sorry that I slept with your husband.”
I winced. “Let’s not bring that up again.” I reached into my pocket and handed her money. “Go have lunch or something.”
They both waved and shuffled out the gate.
“You two are suspiciously quiet.” I wasn’t feeling the love. “You were my first choice for the car wash job, but I know how busy you are,” I said to Fab.
CHAPTER 35
Fab kicked the front door open like a breaking and entering criminal.
“Who’s there?” Zach yelled.
I didn’t expect to see my living room turned into an office. Zach had papers strewn all over the coffee table and he lay back on the couch with his laptop. “What’s going on?”
Zach’s phone rang; he put a finger to his lips and answered. From his side of the conversation, I could tell there were problems at the office.
I joined Fab in the kitchen, staring out the window. “There’s a Mercedes sedan sitting out front. I’ve seen it before, as I recall it had no tags. Any reason someone would be surveilling us?”
Fab shook her head ‘no.’ “Nice ride,” she said.
No one got in or out of the Mercedes, and it suddenly pulled away from the curb and disappeared from sight.
“Don’t say a word to Zach,” I whispered.
“Do you remember when you last saw the car?”
“A couple of days ago, I noticed it parked in the same place. I pulled in the driveway and when I got out it left.” I took water from the refrigerator and handed one to Fab. “I noticed because it was brand new and I know it doesn’t belong to anyone in the neighborhood.”
“Once, maybe. Twice in the same place, and we need to be on guard,” Fab said.
“What are you two whispering about?” Zach said.
“Does he ask what you’re doing in the bathroom when the door’s closed?” Fab gave him a disgusted look. “Be ready to be questioned like a perp.”
Creole walked through the French doors. “Hey, ladies...and you,” he said to Zach.
“How often do you stop by?” Zach demanded.
“Whenever I feel like it.” Creole flipped him off. “I’m here to see Fab.”
Fab swept past me. “Let’s talk outside.”
Zach grabbed my arm. “Don’t get involved with whatever is going on there.”
“Your phone is ringing,” I told him, trying to hide my irritation. I hurried out to the patio and sat next to Fab.
Creole had the keys in his hand that Fab found while ransacking the condo. “My guy made copies.” He handed her a small key. “He says this one is for a standard lock that storage unit places sell to new customers. Any idea which one?”
Fab turned the key over, and looked at it like it might speak to her. “No idea.”
“If you do figure it out, I’ll be your first call, right?” Creole lifted her chin to look at him.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, of course.” Fab smirked. “The other key?”
Creole gave the other one back. “Not sure yet. But I’ll give you the same courtesy you’re extending to me. I’ll call and let you know.”
Zach leaned against the door jam. “What’s going on?”
“Can you give us a couple more minutes?” Creole asked, sounding more like get the hell out of here.
Fab nudged me under the table. I didn’t look up.
“Madison, can I talk you?” Zach motioned me to come inside.
“I’ll be in, in a minute.” I realized my jaw was clenched tight; I needed to stop doing that or my teeth would fall out.
Both Fab and Creole looked at me as though they felt sorry for me.
“Answer a couple of questions, and try telling the truth,” Creole said to Fab.
“I was accused once of being incapable of telling the truth. Sure you want to give it a go?” Fab pulled her hair up, twisting it off her neck.
“I’m going to repeat myself here, in case you weren’t listening the other times I told you. You can trust me. You give me something, I’ll use it to develop my case, and I’ll give you the same anonymity that I’d give any other informant.” Creole searched her face. “Did you find anything else at the condo?”
“Asked and answered I believe,” Fab said.
“Yeah, but I got this feeling. We went over the condo top to bottom and you found the keys.” Creole’s eyes never left her face. “How about a straight up answer; did you or not?”
I held my breath, not sure what Fab would say next. I was happy Creole wasn’t staring at me; my face might give him his answers. Since the kiss, I felt off-balance around him.
Fab took a breath. “I found his briefcase,” she said, blushing.
Creole hit his hand on the table. “I knew it. Damn, you’re good. Where was it?”
“Right there in plain sight in the office. Not sure how you hotshots missed it. I’ll go get it.” Fab stood up and disappeared before Creole could say anything.
I knew that wasn’t true. “This is a big leap of faith for Fab, you’d better not abuse her trust.” I stared down his smirk.
Zach came through the doors and stared at Creole. “Why are you involving Ma
dison in a murder case? You know she’d do anything for Fab, and if she ends up getting hurt, it will be your fault, pal.”
“Oh, stop. Fab is cooperating with the police investigation,” I told him.
Zach laughed. “Sure she is. Be careful,” he said to Creole. “She’ll get bored and shoot you.”
Fab breezed through the French doors, briefcase in hand, and sat down next to Creole, flipping the locks up.
“Do you mind?” Creole said to Zach.
I stood up and looped my arm in Zach’s. “Let’s go inside.”
Zach scanned my face with suspicion. “You know what’s in the briefcase don’t you?” he accused.
“Contrary to what you think, Fab keeps a lot to herself. It looked like boring paperwork to me.” It bothered me to be constantly evasive.
My phone ringing brought a welcome interruption. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. I sent Brick to voicemail, not wanting to fight with Zach.
“Who’s that?” Zach demanded.
“I never ask you who’s calling when you get a phone call. It’s business if you must know.” I’d return the call much later.
My phone rang again. Looks like later just arrived.
“You might as well answer. Must be important, they called back,” Zach said.
“What’s up?” I asked Brick
“Did you send me to voicemail?” Brick barked.
“And you didn’t take the hint?”
“Oh, gotcha. You can’t talk. Come to my office first thing, got a job for you.” He hung up before I could come up with a creative excuse for being busy. If he called me first, Fab would never accept the job.
“Brick wants to see me in his office first thing in the morning.” I tried and failed with the full-disclosure policy, but made the instantaneous decision to try again right now. I hated weighing every word, wondering if it would upset Zach.
“When are we going to have time together? Let’s go back to my place?” Zach asked.
“Name one time I’ve not been available or said no to you, except when you’ve asked me to go to your place, which holds bad memories. Your job demands more of you than mine does. I’m home every night, you’re not.”
I didn’t get my phone back in my pocket before it started ringing again.
Zach leaned against the back of the couch. “Your phone rings more than mine,” he grumbled.
I answered, knowing that Zach planned to listen to every word.
“There’s something you ought to know,” Brad said.
“Hello to you too, and yes, I’m fine.”
Brad laughed. “When I got to The Cottages this morning to pick up Julie and Liam, Liam informed me there were squatters out by the pool.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Two guys asleep by the pool; one in a chaise lounge, the other face down on the concrete. The upright guy, snoring loud enough to be heard down the block. The other one I thought maybe was dead, until I kicked him and he rolled over. I yelled good and loud for them to hit the road. Told them the only reason they weren’t getting arrested was I had plans for the day.”
“Impersonating a cop?” I chuckled.
Zach frowned.
“You and Liam,” he whispered. “I wanted to point out that technically I didn’t say that, not my concern what they believed. But decided that would make a sucky role model.”
“Now your phone is ringing,” I said to Zach.
“Not your usual direct self. The boyfriend listening?” Brad asked. “He sure knows how to milk a headache. The squatters won’t be back. They were friends of Joseph’s, but he didn’t want them puking in his house.”
I turned my back and told Brad, “The upside is you called me and not the sheriff. Thanks for the heads up.” I used Zach’s distraction to go back outside.
“Where did Creole go?” I asked Fab, and sat in the chaise next to her.
“This will be your fault if this sharing goes south.” Fab fingered the key Creole gave back to her. “Where do you suppose he’d rent a storage unit?”
“Is there one located near the condo? Even if one were around the corner, you’d get caught if you go there and try to unlock every unit. Security cameras. What about at the condo unit itself? Even rich people have to store their Christmas decorations somewhere.”
“Do you two want something to drink?” Zach stood just inside the patio doors.
Fab turned in her seat. “Go away,” she told him.
The tension made me twitchy. “That’s awkward,” I said, and nudged her.
“Don’t get comfortable with him underfoot.”
CHAPTER 36
I tried to be as quiet as I could, consciously stopping myself from tossing and turning, not wanting to wake Zach. I stared at the ceiling, checking the clock for the hundredth time, then minutes later, checking it again.
I didn’t think boyfriends were supposed to beg off hot sex with the “my head aches” excuse. It hurt my feelings when he turned away and, damn him, fell asleep. Slipping quietly out of bed, I pulled on a pair of crop sweats and a T-shirt I left on the chair used exclusively for clothing I was too lazy to hang up.
If I’d been alone in bed, I would’ve pulled out a book or turned on the shopping channel until I fell asleep. Instead, I sat at the kitchen island, chin on my hands.
Fab slipped quietly into the kitchen. “Why are you walking around in the middle of the night?”
I raised my eyebrows and stared at her.
“You know I’m a light sleeper, I hear every noise,” Fab reminded.
“Insomnia,” I sighed. “I got tired of the clock taunting me, the hours ticking by and no sleep. If I had a dog I’d go for a walk on the beach.”
“I could drive you around until you fall asleep or cruise the only place open, the twenty-four hour donut hangout, for stoners who need their sugar fix.”
“I haven’t had a donut since they took them out of the gas station. I’m fine.” I smiled at her. “Go back to sleep.”
Fab grabbed my arm, pulling me off the stool. “Buckle on your flip-flops. I’m not a dog, but we can still walk on the beach.”
We went out the French doors and squeezed through the space in the fence. Since I started using the path, I had all the weeds and overgrowth cleaned out and paver stones put down. We cut between the two houses, and the path ended at a set of steps that take you out to the water. The lapping of the waves on the sand was a soothing sound.
“You know how some of our ideas blow? This might be one, hitting the beach in the middle of the night,” I said.
“Sit.” Fab pulled me down on the steps. “Tell me why you’re not banging Zach until you’re exhausted. Makes me sleep like a log.”
“He has a headache.”
When I didn’t say anything else she said, “Change of subject. Do you think Creole is banging the widow?”
“I never asked. That day on the island, they looked like lovers; that look of new intimacy. The happy glow, before you have your first fight and you get a glimpse of the real person.”
Fab’s phone rang. Good thing one of us was prepared, I left mine plugged in by the bedside.
“I bet that’s not good news,” I said. Could this night get any better?
Fab looked at the screen. “Hi, honey.”
Didier couldn’t have said more than a couple of sentences. “We’re sitting on the beach steps behind the house, girl talking. Be back in a little while. Thanks for the heads up.” Fab hung up. “Didier wanted us to know that Zach is awake wandering around the house.”
I sighed. “I hoped to sneak in and out without waking him up. Our irritation with the other is at an all-time high.”
“Reality check, he’s getting an eye-full of life at Casa Madison and he’s not liking it. Before you have a big fight and break up over whether the toilet seat is up or down, you two need to come to an agreement on expectations of the other.”
“I feel like I’ve missed curfew and my dad’s goi
ng to be waiting at the door.”
“Did you sneak out of the house as a teenager?” Fab asked.
I could see the thought intrigued Fab. “Not to be with boys, but to go joy riding without permission, spy on our latest infatuation, and toilet paper their houses. That meant you were crushing hard.”
“I missed out on that rite of passage. You didn’t disobey my father. Embarrassing the family would’ve gotten me shipped to a convent.” Fab’s face showed no emotion. “You ever get caught?”
“One morning Mother announced at breakfast that I was to hurry up and eat, and get my butt over to Todd Peters’ house to help him clean up the yard. His mother and mine were friends and she called, humiliated by all the toilet paper.”
“Mother said, ‘Don’t give me that innocent look.’ Then I squealed back something like, ‘Todd will know. I like him.’ Then Mother looked at me and said, ‘You’re not to confess one word. If Janet Peters finds out, you’re grounded. She’ll spread it all over town. Get a good story together before you arrive.’ Then she pushed me out the door.
“I stopped on the way over, got my best friend, and we pretended to be walking by and offered our help. Todd acknowledged us at school after that with a hello and a wave, but that’s it. Janet Peters looked down her nose at everyone, but she figured out I had a part in her humiliation and turned downright frigid. I never understood how Mother could have been friends with her. The last time I saw her I gave her the same condescending look she gave me, and was quite proud of myself.”
“No boys were allowed, except for a special occasion like a school dance. And my parents wondered why I ran off with the first guy offering fun and adventure,” Fab mused. “Did I mention my future husband had been pre-selected? You know, someone with impeccable lineage. Henri Ricard is a philosophy professor and head of the department at Université Pierre. He outgrew his pimples and, still nerdy, he married, had six children and a beautiful, intelligent well-bred wife who suffers through the endless parties, her small talk flawless. I bet Henri’s family is relieved he never married me.”
“It’s funny how a single choice can change the direction of your life. Any regrets?” I nudged her shoulder.
Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series) Page 21