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Crazy in Paradise

Page 12

by Brown, Deborah


  She never forgot anything. “I didn’t break his heart. He’s being dramatic.”

  “Okay ladies, your car is ready,” Spoon said when he walked back in. “Any problems, call me, I’ll fix you up.”

  “Thank you, Spoon. I appreciate your looking after my mother.”

  “Anytime, Madison,” he said.

  Mother and I returned to our cars. “Do you like him?” she asked.

  “Yes, I do. Now stop, there’s nothing going on. How about I take you to dinner?”

  “I can’t. Poker night’s at my house tonight. I need to pick up the food before the deli closes. Why don’t you come over?”

  “Next time.” If these women were anything like the last bunch, they’d be ruthless. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Mother flew out of the driveway and down the street. She drove like a crazy woman.

  I sat in front of Spoon’s trying to decide what I should pick up for dinner. My only other choice was to go home and cook. Who was I kidding? Cooking for me these days consisted of me buying something that I could easily heat in the microwave.

  A black Escalade with dark tinted windows and a big antenna on top blew by. Had to be Zach; no one else in town had an SUV like his. What was he doing down here? I hesitated, then rolled out of the driveway and followed him.

  In the distance, he slowed, made a right turn, and I followed. Before the electric gates closed, I caught a glimpse of the Thunderbird.

  What the heck was this place? From the exterior it appeared to be a pair of run-down warehouse buildings. I looked for a sign, but I already knew the businesses down here weren’t much for advertising. I made a U-turn in time to spy Zach walking up the stairs. He opened the door at the top and disappeared inside. The security gates were the only way in, with no buzzer, no intercom. On each corner of the top of the buildings were security cameras.

  I wanted to make another U-turn, but I didn’t want to get caught on one of the cameras, so I drove home. His offices? Who was this guy? It wasn’t fair he knew a lot about me, and felt free to walk in and out of my house at all hours. Where did he live? I have a pretend boyfriend who has no time for a pretend girlfriend, let alone a real one. One evening out, one sexual romp – what was that, anyway? One thing for sure, it had begun to feel like a one night stand.

  In my driveway, I remembered I had forgotten all about dinner. Thank goodness for frozen waffles.

  Chapter 20

  I floated around in the warm water on a Styrofoam noodle. Nothing is more satisfying than a swim on a warm summer night.

  “Watching you float naked is better than watching you bent over a fan.”

  I looked up to see Zach smiling down at me. “I need to stop thinking I live here by myself and can swim naked.” I slid off the noodle and into the water. “You come in and out so much you don’t even scare me anymore.”

  “When did I scare you?” he looked amused.

  “Turn around, so I can get out.”

  “I’ve seen you naked.”

  “This is different. Toss me my towel.”

  “No, I’ll hold it for you. Maybe I’ll even close my eyes.”

  He held the towel out and, as I stepped out of the pool, he wrapped it around me. All the while, he had a grin on his face.

  It took a lot of courage to come out of the pool like some kind of sea nymph. I hadn’t reached that level of comfort with him. “What’s up?” I tried to sound casual.

  Zach straddled the lounger and pulled me down in front of him. “I came to tell you the case is finished.”

  “And Dario?”

  “Dario stepped so far over the line this time I almost couldn’t save him. Then I had to lie for him. When I told him that I was finished coming to his rescue, he laughed in my face. I wanted to beat the hell out of him,” Zach’s voice was filled with anger, his eyes turning black.

  “One of my biggest accounts is security operations for a state-wide chain of home improvement stores. They brought me in to put a stop to the staggering amount of missing inventory.”

  “The first thing we had to do was distinguish between employee and customer theft. I knew immediately that it had to be an inside job. Next, we needed to know how widespread the theft was, and how many people were involved. The easiest part turned out to be figuring out how the inventory left the building. Which left the final question: where were they taking the goods?”

  “My first surprise came when I found out Dario was a relatively new employee. He’d talked himself into the job of state-wide sales manager, complete with phony resume and references. When I asked him how he had the brass to submit such an application, he said, ‘the top is better than the bottom, bro.’“ Zach unscrewed the top of my bottle of water, taking a drink.

  “Then I found out Dario was a member of a local gang of malcontents. Thieves, basically. Five of them were working in several of the South Florida stores, so it was easy for them to coordinate the thefts from the inside. Dario’s excuse was that he joined the gang to pay off enormous gambling debts. He planned to rip off the store a few times, pay the debt, and be gone. But he claims that when anyone tried to turn in their gang membership card, there were threats followed by violence.”

  I hugged him. I couldn’t imagine the betrayal he felt.

  “My guess is that, once they were organized, and business was booming for the little thieves, none of them were going anywhere. Each person in the group had their own ‘specialty’, so to speak, and any defections would have created a setback to their plans. By this time, greed had overcome common sense, and they weren’t about to let anything stop them.”

  “One of the guys in the group had worked for an alarm company. He’s the one who short circuited the system. Next they’d remove the inventory, then re-engage the system, and that way the break-in would never show up on security tapes. When the merchandise left the building, they trucked it to a warehouse in South Miami and loaded it on waiting trucks for delivery to their customers. They took orders from small retailers, and would steal in order to fill them.”

  “Remember the night you found me here, shot?”

  I nodded and touched his scar.

  “That night we had the main location staked out. At that point, we pretty much knew all the parties involved. We watched them finish loading their inventory, and were planning to follow them. We coordinated so that all locations would be raided simultaneously. I was standing in the shadows, watching, when I heard the gunshot. It took a few moments to realize I was the one shot. Initially we assumed that I had made a careless move, uncharacteristic by the way,” he smiled. “But later I learned they’d been tipped off to my exact location. My money is on Dario, though he says no.”

  I gasped, “Dario would set up his own brother to be killed?”

  Zach shook his head. “I found out later that, when the police didn’t show up and I didn’t check into a hospital, they became bolder than ever. We decided to put a crimp in their operation by having Dario arrested for outstanding traffic warrants. We brought Dario to your house so his crew would think he was in jail. Finally, when it was time to wrap everything up, what does Dario do? While he’s staying at your house, he sneaks out, gallivants around town, running his mouth and compromising the whole operation. Damn near succeeding too.”

  “I’m so sorry, Zach.”

  “Once we figured out who all the players were, from employees to outside help, and where the warehouses were located, we were ready to go. We worked with Miami police to set up the final sting. On the last night, once inventory was loaded, the first arrests were made. Our guy drove the truck to the warehouse, and more arrests. Anyone who had the night off was arrested at their house.”

  “What about Dario’s involvement?”

  “For the most part, I covered for him. I downplayed his involvement and told the client Dario’s information was instrumental in breaking the case wide open. I never divulged we were related. Dario claims that, when he finally decided to leave the group, they
threatened the family. I told myself the reason I protected him was because I thought that was what was expected of me. I didn’t want to admit to myself that Dario had hindered our progress every step of the way. I never believed his story about the threats.” He picked up my bottle and finished off the water.

  “I had lunch with my father to bring him up to speed, and made it clear my days of saving Dario’s butt were over. He agreed that Dario needs to grow up, and he backed me up when I told him I wouldn’t bail him out in the future. I can’t allow him to trash my reputation, one I worked hard for.”

  “My father also needed to know about the real possibility that Dario could bring violence into his home. He always said that a stupid person associates himself with people who have nothing to lose. They’ll manage to bring you down to their level; any hint of an association weakens your own credibility.”

  His fingers traced the skin at the top of my towel. He pulled me to him, kissing me. “All of us who worked on this case are getting together for dinner tomorrow night. Job well done sort of thing. Would you be my date?”

  “Your date?” I smiled. “Yes.”

  “We’ll be driving down to Kane’s.”

  “I haven’t been, but Elizabeth raved about the place.” A real date. I’d get to meet some more of the people Zach worked with.

  “The plan is to sit up on the deck for drinks, and move inside for dinner. I’ll pick you up at four o’clock.”

  “Will you be knocking on my door?”

  “Probably not,” he chuckled. “I’d like to stay and unwrap you out of your towel, but….” He pulled me closer, nibbling on my cleavage, moving up my neck and onto my mouth. “Tomorrow we’ll have dinner, and then….”

  “Then what?”

  “We’ll see where the night takes us.” He wrapped his fingers in my hair, pulling me to him, and I savored every moment of the consuming kiss. He’s good. Really, really good.

  Then he left.

  Chapter 21

  We walked upstairs to the third level deck, and into the bar area. Big tables, comfortable seating, each table had a tropical umbrella complete with its own fan. No matter where you sat in the restaurant, Kane’s had a breathtaking view of the Gulf.

  Axe stood by the door. “Madison, this is my girlfriend, April,” he introduced. April was a curvy blonde, in a low-cut bright pink dress that emphasized her enormous breasts. One would have to concentrate hard not to stare at her cleavage, and she was surely half Axe’s age.

  Another woman approached and Zach made the introduction. “Meet Topaz, Slice’s wife.” The exact opposite of her husband in appearance; petite and delicate, with long black hair and creamy smooth skin.

  “Hello,” she greeted me. Her accent sounded French. She shared one quality with her husband, intensity. She checked me over carefully.

  “Hi,” I said, feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

  We all moved to a large outdoor table. This was clearly a close group of people, talking about the personal details of their lives. I was the newcomer, the outsider as it were, and of course, everyone would be cautious. When was Fab going to get here? I could use a familiar face.

  Another couple approached the table, and Zach made the introductions. “This is our client, Buckshot Jones, and his wife Cynthia.” Buckshot was in his sixties, in terrific shape, tanned and looking as though he just walked off his boat. Cynthia, like Axe’s April, was much younger than her husband. She looked like a Barbie doll in her yellow silk strapless dress, big diamonds in her ears and a huge rock on her finger. The ultimate trophy wife.

  “Hello,” Cynthia said, glaring at me.

  Buckshot and Zach shook hands. When Zach kissed Cynthia on the cheek, she pressed her body to his. At our table in the dining area, I ended up sitting with Zach on one side of me and Cynthia on the other.

  “This is fun being seated next to one another,” Cynthia purred. “So Madison, how long have you known Zach?”

  “Long enough to be my girlfriend,” Zach answered for me.

  “Girlfriend?” Cynthia said with surprise, and unhappily.

  “Congratulations!” Buckshot boomed from the other side of the table. “Will you be announcing a marriage anytime soon?”

  I’m glad I didn’t have food in my mouth, I’d have choked. “My mother would like that,” I turned, smiling at Zach.

  He winked at me. “You never know.” He put his arm around my neck, pulled me to him, and kissed my cheek. Zach was certainly full of surprises. Axe and Slice, though, didn’t seem surprised in the least.

  April and Topaz quietly sized me up. Usually I had an easy time meeting new people, but tonight I was off my game, unsure of what to say.

  “Where’s Fab?” I whispered to Zach.

  “She’s waiting on Marco. His schedule is erratic at best.”

  “We never wait for Fab and Marco,” Axe interjected. “Those two show up when they can. Or not.”

  If I had a choice of who to sit next to, it wouldn’t have been Cynthia. I judged her to be a woman with an agenda.

  “I hope you weren’t upset when you found out about Zach and me,” Cynthia whispered.

  “What you are talking about?” I asked her, confused as to where the conversation was going. Granted, Zach and I had only known each other a few weeks, but he surely wouldn’t fool around with a client’s wife.

  She pushed her chair closer to mine. “Zach and I have been involved for a while now,” she confessed. “He’s pushing for me to get a divorce, but I don’t want to hurt Buckshot. I’m waiting for the right time.”

  “I guess he got tired of waiting,” I said.

  “I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but you’re just a cover so we can be together,” she said.

  “Excuse me,” I said quietly, slipping away from the table, and headed to the ladies’ room.

  The bathroom door opened, and Cynthia entered. “I hope I didn’t upset you. I thought it was only fair you know the truth.”

  “The truth?” I backed away slightly, feeling cornered.

  “How well do you know Zach?”

  “Well enough.”

  “That’s hard to believe. Has he told you about me, the woman he loves?”

  “Why are you telling me all of this? You need to talk to Zach.”

  “You seem like a nice person,” she smiled coldly. “I wouldn’t want you to get your feelings hurt.”

  I’ll bet. “Thanks for the info.” Was Cynthia crazy or could she be telling the truth? One thing was certain, I didn’t know as much about Zach as I wanted. That would change, or I needed to move on. I didn’t intend to be his or anyone else’s so-called cover. The rest of the evening was a daze, accompanied by a smile pasted on my face.

  “Fab called,” Zach leaned over and whispered. “They’re not going to be able to make it. Some last minute call for Marco.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said, disappointed. “I hope I meet Marco soon.”

  “He’s a lot like Fabiana; dark, intense, crazy. Their intensity keeps them solid; they shield one another from the craziness of their lives. Marco is good for her.”

  Zach’s phone rang. “We’re on our way.” He hung up and spoke quietly with Slice, then answered, “We’re going to have to cut this short. Slice and I need to run a check for a client.”

  “We’ll take Madison home,” Buckshot offered.

  I reached around and pinched Zach’s butt hard. To his credit, his muscles contracted, but he didn’t jump or show any emotion.

  “I’ll take Madison home,” Zach told him. “Slice will go ahead of me and I’ll catch up with him.”

  “You need me, buddy?” Axe asked.

  “You’re off the hook. Be at the meeting tomorrow morning.”

  We said goodbyes all around. Cynthia smiled at me like the cat that ate the entire mouse. When Zach leaned in to kiss her, she rubbed against him. They lingered longer than I thought necessary.

  Out in the parking lot, Zach said, “The pinch hurt, in case yo
u care Was that your way of telling me you didn’t want to ride with Buckshot and Cynthia?”

  “Thank you,” I said, getting into the Escalade. “Cynthia talked all through dinner and was giving me a headache.”

  “Did you enjoy yourself?”

  “Sure,” I said, staring out at the lights dancing on the water.

  “What are you thinking about?” Zach asked, turning to me.

  “Buckshot seems like a nice guy. Is Buckshot a nickname? Are you friends or is it all business?”

  “Buckshot’s a nickname. He never tells anyone what his given name is. I know, but I’m sworn to secrecy,” he chuckled. “Buckshot and I are friends as well as colleagues.”

  “Everyone seemed…,” I paused, “very nice.”

  “It’s a good mix. All of us guys are ex-Seals. We’re a tight group after sharing the same experiences, and the wives and girlfriends all get along.” We passed the rest of the time with small talk or companionable silence.

  “Not so fast,” he said as I got out of his Escalade in front of my house. He got out and ran around to my side of the car, and followed me to my door.

  “Are you coming in the front door?” I laughed. “That would a first.”

  “Second time,” Zach corrected. “I knocked on our first date.”

  Our eyes locked into a sexually charged moment, he opened the door, pulled me inside, pushed me up against the wall and kissed me hard.

  “Unfortunately, I have to leave,” he said, and left after a final nibbling on my ear lobes.

  I could take a cold shower. Or, clean the garage. Black fur wound through my legs. “Meow.” I reached down, picked up Jazz, and nuzzled his neck.

  * * *

  I spent a sleepless night trying to talk myself out of my plan to go and check the address where I’d seen Zach at the warehouses. The idea could backfire, but I was determined.

  The gates were opening when I arrived, and a delivery truck of some sort came driving out. As the truck drove away, I walked in before the gates closed, and realized too late that I was locked in, and the only way out was through the gate I just entered. The bottom part of the building appeared to be empty. A black BMW convertible was parked in a space; probably another car belonging to Zach, since his Escalade was nowhere in sight. What is it with black cars?

 

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