Fab and I had become good friends with the local funeral directors, who had hid us on a couple of occasions; when they needed help, we returned the favor.
A commotion at the front door had us all turning our heads.
“Everyone stay seated,” Kevin barked as he crossed the threshold, several deputies behind him.
“What now?” I grumbled.
“Be nice,” Mother whispered. “He might be family one day. Hopefully, he won’t be so tight-assed when that day comes.”
I gave her a toothy grin and blew her a kiss.
“He’s headed this way,” Phil whispered.
“Everyone take a seat out on the deck.” Kevin pointed to the patio door. “We’ll call you back inside one at a time. Try to leave, and you’ll be arrested and taken to jail, where you can answer questions in custody.”
He shuffled over to where the four of us were all still standing at the bar. “You’re no exception: out to the deck.” He laughed. “First The Cottages, now Jake’s. You need to find a better place to dump the bodies if you don’t want to be a suspect.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“We got a call—dead body in the dumpster out back. And look: here you all are.” He snickered.
“You can wipe that smug smile off your face,” Mother said, hands on her hips. “Have you ever arrested my daughter for murder? Or anything else? No, you haven’t. Because you’ve never had cause and never will.”
Kevin glared back at her.
Phil stepped over next to Mother. “They have the legal right not to answer your questions without an attorney present.”
“You graduated law school yet?” he asked.
“I learned about people’s rights in the first semester. You really should inform the people on the deck that it’s their right not to say jack.” Phil glared back at him. “Are you informing them that anything they say can be used against them in a court of law?”
“When I want legal advice, I’ll get it from a real lawyer.”
“Do you have a name or picture of the deceased?” I asked Kevin. “We might know him or her.” I tugged on Fab’s arm. “She’ll be happy to identify whoever it is, if she knows him; she knows everyone we do. The rest of us will stay here.”
Fab was perfect for the viewing, considering her all-around fascination with dead people, including taking their pictures. This way, she wouldn’t have to sneak out to get a picture and risk arrest.
Kevin whistled to a fellow officer, meeting him in the middle of the dance floor that was used mostly when drunks wanted to show off their uncoordinated moves. He snapped his fingers at Fab, waving her over.
“Unleash your charm,” I whispered.
She joined the two deputies without hesitation.
“Last time I’m going to say this—” Kevin pointed to the patio door. “—out.”
“You need to do some more digging,” I said to Phil. “Why has my property become so popular for dumping bodies? Why not drop them off at the funeral home? At least they know what to do with them. I hope one doesn’t turn up at my house.” I shuddered, linking my arm with Mother’s.
“We’ll split up, question the patrons, see who knows what,” Mother said in a low voice.
“No need. They’re all regulars. Phil can grill them next time they come in. Don’t forget to offer them free beer.” I nodded to Phil. We both knew free drinks were a conversation starter. None of those here today would kill someone unless it was an accident, and they were all smart enough to dump the evidence in a swamp.
My private table on the patio had been commandeered. I changed direction and headed to the far end of the deck, thinking Mother was right behind me. It was all I could do to contain my annoyance when I heard one of the deputies tell her, “Stop with the questions or I’ll arrest you.” I settled back, leveled the “behave” stare that she’d used frequently on Brad and me as kids at her, and motioned for her to come and sit in the chair next to me.
Phil ended her conversation with a regular, laughing at something he said and patting him on the back, then joined Mother and me.
Kevin stomped over.
I held up my hand. “I’ll cut to the chase for you—all employees and guests were inside and knew nothing about a dead body or that the sheriff’s office had been called. If you think any of us are murderers, you’re wrong.” I kept as usual to myself.
“Jake’s is closed until further notice,” he snapped. “You’ll be informed when you can reopen.”
Fab burst through the door with a smile on her face that disappeared when Kevin turned in her direction. She casually slid her phone into her back pocket. “Never saw him before,” she blurted. “Hasn’t been dead long. He’s not bloated and doesn’t smell, even though it’s a warm day.”
I made a retching noise.
Mother tugged on my hair.
“Do we need to get a new dumpster?” I asked Kevin. “Are you taking it with you?”
“I’ll be sure to tell your trash company to bring it back once we’re done,” Kevin said with amusement.
“Oh no,” Fab interjected. “We want a new one. I’m certain dead people carry cooties.” Fab and Phil broke out in laughter and knuckle-bumped.
Mother snorted and laid her head on my shoulder; I’d bet she was also laughing.
“Can the regulars finish their drinks?” I asked. “They did pay for them.”
Kevin glared at each of us in turn. “Yours isn’t the only dive bar in town; they can go to one of the other ones.”
“Since the crime scene is outside, any reason we can’t lock up now?” Phil asked Kevin.
“We’re not done processing this place, and it’ll be a while. Don’t look to re-open for another few days.” Another officer called Kevin and he left.
“I’ll stay until they’re done,” Phil offered. “I’m sure the body is hot gossip by now. We’ll have them lined up at the door as soon as we re-open. Nothing like murder to bring in the business. Only thing better would be if it happened inside; then we get big crowds wanting to stand in the exact spot.”
Fab shook her head. “When that guy got shot in here, you painted an X on the floor. How are you going to top that?”
“I made good money off that idea. If we can, we need to keep the current dumpster, but any beat-up one will do; I’ll tell a little lie and say that it was the one. You—” She pointed at Fab. “—forward me pics of the dead guy. Oh, stop with the innocent face; I know you got them.”
Fab retrieved her phone from her back pocket. I glared at her, hoping she wouldn’t pass it around.
“Then what?” Mother asked in total fascination.
“Nothing, Mother. We can do a tasteful memorial plaque or something,” I said.
“Boo,” Fab hissed. “I want to hear Phil’s idea.”
“I’ll take one of the pictures, blow it up to poster size, and tape it up on the outside of the bin. The best part—are you ready?—a one-dollar charge to peek inside,” Phil said, thoroughly proud of her impromptu idea.
“It’s frightening that, one day soon, you’re going to be a lawyer.” I pursed my lips in a frown. “You hang your shingle locally, and you’ll have a head start on understanding your clients, especially if they come from around here.”
“Who votes for the poster?” Fab raised her hand.
Mother and Phil’s hands shot up.
“Don’t get excited. The owner has five votes; motion denied,” I said.
But I knew it wouldn’t matter if I had a hundred votes. The poster would go up, and the bar would be standing room only once again.
Chapter 11
Fab came down the stairs in a pair of form-fitting blue jeans and a silky royal blue camisole. She jumped off the bottom step, a pleased-with-herself look on her face.
“Aren’t you going to change?” I eyed Fab up and down.
“What’s the big deal?” She eyed me with suspicion. “It’s just the four of us for dinner. And why you wouldn’t let
Didier do the cooking, I don’t know. You’ll feel bad if one of us gets sick from your culinary ‘skills.’”
“First off,” I growled, my fists going up in a fighting stance, “just because I don’t cook doesn’t mean I can’t.”
Fab laughed and smacked my hands down, smiling indulgently. “Calm down. I’m sure whatever it is, it will be… delicious.”
I scowled, not buying her pitiful excuse for an apology. “Just so you won’t worry your pretty head about it, dinner is being barbequed by your boyfriend.” Fab skirted around me, and before she could go to the patio, I added, “I have a little surprise for you. Tonight, I’m going to show you how much our relationship means to me and that I do listen to you.”
“Something going on that I don’t know about?” She scrutinized me closely.
“I hope you’ll be pleased. In the spirit of friendship and all.” I smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.
I had left a cellophane-wrapped bouquet of variously colored roses, which I’d picked up from the outdoor market in town, sitting in a pitcher of water. I took five small, square glass vases from the cabinet and dumped a handful of shells in the bottom of each. Then, shortening each stem, I divided the flowers, arranged three blooms in each vase, and put them on a tray, interspersed with starfish, to use as a centerpiece.
Walking through the French doors, I heard Fab tell Didier, “She’s up to something.”
Didier stepped away from the barbeque, wrapping his arm around Fab and pulling her to his side. “When is Creole getting here?”
I turned slightly, taking a breath to calm my nerves. “This is a special night.” The doorbell sounded louder than usual to me. “Ooh, there’s my date.”
Didier’s brows knitted together. “Since when does Creole ring the doorbell?”
“Two kinds of people do that—those that want to shoot us and solicitors. I hope you have your gun,” Fab called out.
“I’m counting on the two of you. Be nice.” I hurried inside and threw open the front door, not sure what to expect; I hoped that Phil had come through with someone believable.
The tall man with messy blond hair grinned down at me, surfer dude written all over him. I admired his tan silk shorts and tropical shirt; they reeked “designer” if I knew my men’s clothing, and I did.
“Madison, I presume.” He took my hand, running his lips across the back of it in a kiss. “Phil texted me a picture so I wouldn’t mess up before I got in the door.”
“Ross Dugan.” I smiled in welcome, holding out my arm and ushering him inside. “Thanks for doing this.” I leaned in and whispered, “The story is that we just met, so we won’t be expected to know each other’s life story.”
His eyes ran over my white, scoop-neck handkerchief dress with gold rope shoulder straps, matching belt, and low-heeled slides that showed off my tanned legs. “I wouldn’t mind going out on a date for real.”
“Rules for tonight: We need to look as though we’re in the first throes of lust, but don’t go overboard. I’m partial to the boyfriend I already have. My hope is that if you play your part, I won’t have to listen to any more snotty comments about the love of my life from my roommate.”
Ross drew my arm through his. “Gotcha. I’m looking forward to this dinner.” He huffed out a low laugh.
I pointed the way, and he led me out to the patio. “Fab, Didier, this is Ross.” I whispered hoarsely to Fab, “You’re always telling me how I can do better than Creole, so I took your advice and decided it was time to look around, interview replacements.”
Didier’s mouth dropped open, and even Fab looked shocked.
“I mean really, who wants to date a Neanderthal?” I directed my question at Fab.
Didier didn’t skip a beat; he extended his hand to shake Ross’s and offered him a drink. But while he was getting the requested beer, he shot me a disgusted glare, the first he’d ever given me.
Ross silently perused every inch of Fab from head to toe. “Madison told me you’re her best friend and that you’re both little crime fighters.”
Damn—I should have set up a video camera.
“Funny, Madison has never mentioned your name,” Fab shot back.
“Ross is great. I know you’re going to love him. Aren’t you happy that I listen to your suggestions?” I asked in a challenging tone.
Ross ignored the awkward silence. Cupping the back of my neck, he swooped down, kissing my cheek. He held up the beer Didier had handed him. “To new beginnings.” He clinked bottles with Didier, but Fab ignored him. “I hear you’re an underwear model.” He gave Didier a once-over. “What’s that like: trotting around in your undies, you know, everything on display?”
Didier shot him a glacial stare. “That’s the way my career started out. I’ve made a name for myself and now work exclusively for high-end designers.
Fab growled.
Ross’s brows arched. “I think your girlie is hungry.” He hugged me to his side. “I can hear her stomach from here. So skinny, she could use seconds.”
I pinched my thigh, concentrating on not laughing. I did feel some sympathy for Didier, who was not amused and looked like he wanted to take a swing at Ross. But he couldn’t learn that this was payback or Fab would find out. Didier excused himself and went inside.
Ross tightened his hold, looking down. “You’re not one of those bird eaters, are you?”
“I love good food. And even more when there’s leftovers.” I beamed at him.
“How did you two meet?” Fab asked, eyeing him with suspicion, her tone ice cold.
“Early one morning, before Jake’s opened, I came up the back steps and there sat Madison, on the deck at what she informed me was her favorite table.” Ross squeezed my shoulder.
“You there to rob the place?” Fab asked.
“Fabiana!” I hissed.
Didier returned from the kitchen, platter in hand, in time to hear Fab. He smirked. “I’m putting the grouper on the grill. Dinner should be ready soon.” He’d apparently decided to hurry the evening along. No chitchat and drinks by the pool.
Brad had delivered several pieces of cleaned fish after he returned from his last run. I stuffed a couple with a crab filling and cleaned and chopped vegetables for grilling. Good thing everyone in the family liked all types of seafood; with my brother being a commercial fisherman, he kept the freezer stocked.
“You little French things are all spit and fire, aren’t you?” Ross looked at Fab in amusement. “I certainly wanted to steal Madison away that morning.” He nodded in Didier’s direction. “He’s pretty and can cook too. Nice. You need some help?” he called.
“I’ll help him,” Fab said in disgust and stalked away.
“She can cook? Now that’s a package.”
I knew Fab had heard by the way her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn around.
I grabbed Ross’s arm and pulled him to the opposite side of the pool, checking to make sure Fab hadn’t doubled back to listen. “Good job.” I muffled my laugh against his chest.
“We can do better.” He pushed me into the corner, covered my body with his, and bent his head to mine. “Can you see around my shoulder without them noticing?”
“They’re both glaring. Do not kiss me—my boyfriend won’t forgive any indiscretions, and frankly, I wouldn’t forgive him either. We don’t share. Even if it is to teach my friend not to trash talk my boyfriend.”
“Does the boyfriend know what you’re up to?”
“Not yet. I decided that telling him after was better.” Ross quirked his brow. “What’s your story?” I asked. “You’re a looker; I imagine the women are lined up.”
He bowed, his eyes twinkling. “Just a friend of Philippa’s, willing to help her boss out. If it sounds like fun, I’m in.”
It felt awkward to ask the usual get-to-know-you questions, but I was saved by Fab’s shrill whistle that dinner was almost ready. I was tempted to whistle back, but hard as I tried, I’d never mastered whistling,
and now wasn’t the time to embarrass myself by showing off my lack of skill.
Ross took my hand. “Do I dine and dash or what?”
“The way those two are acting, I’m thinking that after dinner is going to be even more awkward than it’s been so far. We should see how it goes.”
Ross and I returned to the table, where he sat across from the grim-faced Fab. I joined Didier at the grill, feeling guilty that I hadn’t been more help.
“Thank you,” I said to him, pointing to the risotto he’d cooked on a side burner.
“We have everything?” he asked, not looking at me. “Funny thing, Creole never mentioned your relationship being over.”
“For dessert, I got your favorite: gelato.” My stomach was already a mass of nerves; I’d be lucky if I could eat anything. “I’ll tell Creole later.” I turned and walked back to the table.
Fab stabbed her fork into the grouper. “You know, Madison bought this already prepared from the store. Or begged it off her brother. He fishes.”
My eyes narrowed; she made it sound like my brother took his fishing pole to some creek. I kicked her under the table. “At least I can cook.”
Fab ignored me, instead focused on interrogating Ross. “So you’re auditioning for the new boyfriend position? Who does that?”
He puffed out his chest and said arrogantly, “A man who knows he can blow away any competition.”
“What exactly is it that do you do—you know, for a living?” Fab looked down her finely chiseled nose.
I glanced at Didier; the smug look on his face told me he had no intention of reining in his girlfriend.
“As a member of the idle rich, nothing as exciting as prancing around in my underwear.” Ross matched her condescending stare.
I reached out and covered his hand, squeezing it in a warning that would probably be lost on him. He didn’t know that my volatile friend might well upend the table and leave us both wearing our dinner.
Fab pushed her chair back and glowered at Ross. “Get your foot off me. You’ve got the wrong leg.”
Executed in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 9) Page 8