“Don’t worry. We don’t have to go far for more,” Didier said.
“Good thing.” Creole nodded in Fab’s and my direction. “There’s two of them, and we both know that’s a dangerous combination.”
I cut the crust off my pizza and cut it into smaller pieces.
Fab wrinkled up her nose. “Pick up the slice with your fingers, eat until you get to the crust, then toss it aside.” She put on a show and tell.
I leaned in her direction and whispered hoarsely, “I missed you.”
Creole finished off his beer and looked at Fab. “I probably shouldn’t have interfered in your business with Brick-ass, but Madison was worried, and I knew she’d end up going with you, and that wasn’t going to happen. I’d like to say I’d never do it again, but that would be a lie.” He held up his hand. “Before you rip my head off, let me give you a little update.”
Fab stayed silent, which surprised me.
“Whatever it is will be news to me too,” I said to her. “I didn’t get a preview, although I did try.”
Creole cleared his throat. “Did you know the fugitive you were to bring in had his bond revoked because he killed a man, a witness to his other crimes, while out on bail? Another so-called friend is in the hospital. Did your friend Brick happen to mention any of this to you?” he asked in disgust.
Fab shook her head.
Didier banged his fist on the table and said in an almost-yell, “You made it sound a whole lot different than what Creole just described.”
“Brick is almost always vague on the details,” I said in Fab’s defense.
“What did you suspect that Fab didn’t? Why get Creole involved?” Didier rattled off the questions and, not waiting for a response, glared at Fab. “Do you just not give a damn about your safety?”
I covered Fab’s hand with mine and squeezed. “From time to time, I get an uneasy feeling that makes the hair on the back on my neck stand on end. This was one of those occasions.”
Creole flicked Didier’s shoulder, motioning for him to hand over another beer. “It gets better.” He popped the top, taking a swig. “Before asking you to do the job, Brick hired a well-known bounty hunter in the area. He got shot for his efforts. He’s still in the hospital, but at least he’s not going to die—too big and mean.”
I turned to Fab in shock. “That could have been you.”
“Is the guy in custody?” Didier asked.
“Bail jumper is at the coroner’s office. The cops got a tip that he was hiding out at a friend’s house; when they arrived on scene, he took a shot at the cops and thankfully didn’t hit anyone. They returned fire,” Creole said.
Silence descended over the table.
“I’ll never forgive you if you get yourself killed,” Didier said to Fab in an even tone.
Fab hung her head, and I heard a sniff. I wasn’t the only one.
“Not to defend the man…” I winced, knowing I was doing just that. “But I really believe that Brick thinks Fab is invincible. And he only thinks about himself.”
“If the reason you work for that odious man is that you get a free car,” Didier said. “I’ll buy you any model you want. It’s not like you drive yours anyway. Your name will be on the title, and no one will be able to take it from you.”
“It’s about friendship. He’s had my back since I first came to town.” Fab jumped up, almost upending her chair, ran around the table to Didier, and jumped in his lap. “I promise you that he didn’t disclose the background of the perp.” She whispered something in French. Didier and Creole both nodded.
“Just great.” I threw up my hands. “Even you know what she said. I feel left out.” I sulked.
“She told him she didn’t need the car.” Creole laughed. “I do need to disclose something that all of you should know. I ran into Brick after finding out all of this, and the meeting didn’t go well.”
I lowered my gaze to his gauze-wrapped hand. “Did you get pictures?”
Didier banged his spoon on the table. “Is it agreed that we’re all made up?”
Everyone nodded.
Creole stood and collected the plates, silverware, and trash, placing them on the cart. “Does anyone want anything before we start the second part of the meeting?”
Fab stood and mouthed “water.” I nodded.
Creole opened the door. Standing in the hall, he yelled, “Hey,” and held up two fingers, then motioned with his arm. He took the cart to the kitchen, and when he came back, waited at the door until Phil appeared with a tray of beer and bottled water. Creole swept out his hand, ushering her inside and closing the door behind her.
He sat down next to me, laying his arm across my shoulder, ending the “boys on one side, girls on the other” thing. “Next part of this meeting: Phil is going to update us on dead John Doe number two.”
“New client?” I winked at Phil.
“Once Creole assured me it wouldn’t be freebie work, I agreed to a trial run.”
“This is our information girl,” Creole introduced Phil for Didier’s benefit. “Her identity must remain a secret. She’s a law school student who bartends, no other explanation needed. If anyone takes an abnormal interest in her, I want to know.” He bowed slightly and waved Phil toward the table. “The floor is yours.”
Phil sat at the head of the table. “Law enforcement is keeping the details on a need-to-know basis. At first, all I could get was that the only common denominator between these unlucky fellows was that they were found dead, with no apparent reason for anyone to kill them. They were also both shot in the back multiple times. In both cases, the first bullet most likely killed them; the rest were gratuitous. Neither was killed in the location where they were found. The second body was that of sixty-three-year-old Rodney Wheeler. Rodney was just getting ready to retire from the post office. Owned a small house in Marathon. He had no identification on him, but a missing-person report made it easy to identify him. When the deputies went to his house, they found it had been ransacked. The burned-out shell of his car was found before he turned up.”
“Did he have family?” I asked.
“Two grown children. Your funeral friends took good care of him,” Phil assured me. “Dickie and Raul came in the other night; I seated them at the reserved table, which I told them was for family and friends, and comped their check over their objections. They got a little tipsy and loud playing pool; it was fun to watch.”
“And Dead Doe number one?” Creole asked.
“Denton Newlin, a fifty-year-old fisherman, last seen about a week before his body was found, when he left his house to go on a trip for which he didn’t show up. Denton was a loner, lived in a run-down efficiency in the seedier part of the docks. He didn’t own a car or much in the way of personal belongings.”
“Any link between the two men?” Creole asked.
“Nothing that my investigation has turned up. The cops are playing it off as two separate incidents, but they’re fairly certain it’s the same shooter. You know they never disclose their full hand to anybody, holding back a choice tidbit or two; well, this one is a doozy. Both men’s genitalia were mutilated post mortem.” She smiled.
Both Creole and Didier flinched.
“Yikes,” I hissed and exchanged a “what the hell” look with Fab. “Least they were dead.”
“When I take my final dance, I want this body in pristine shape.” Creole ran his hands over his t-shirt.
Everyone laughed. I watched in amusement as he flexed his muscles for me.
“The press hasn’t reported this one yet,” Phil added, “but another body was found in Alligator Alley inside another torched car. I only got sketchy details.
“Will you follow up?” Creole asked.
Phil looked at me. “I’ll consider this a freebie if you get me an introduction to the funeral boys as more than a bartender and put in a good word.”
I pointed at Fab. “She’s the one they like the most. And she’d be happy to make that happen. Wouldn�
��t you?”
“What’s in it for me?” Fab squinted at me.
“Really?” I squealed back.
Creole and Didier threw their heads back and laughed.
“Choose a time, and the three of us will go to the funeral home,” Fab offered. “I’d be surprised if they didn’t have more info, since Dickie primped one of the bodies. They complain that they don’t have any friends, but somehow they manage to know everything that goes on in town.”
“Fab can give you a tour; she knows where all the bodies are stashed,” I said.
“We took a tour of the coroner’s office for one of my classes; I thought it was interesting,” Phil said. “A couple of my fellow students lost their lunch. Didn’t bother me.”
I shook my head, happy that I’d missed that tour. “I have a question before we adjourn. The bodies were dumped on my properties—did you find a connection to me? I swear I’ve never seen them before and their names aren’t familiar.”
“I showed their pictures to the other bartenders, and no one remembers seeing either of them in here. The only property left is your house, so I’d keep an eye out.”
“Yikes.” I whooshed out a breath. Damn, hopefully that would not happen. “I, for one, am hoping for a quick arrest. In the meantime, I suggest that neither Fab nor I stay at the house alone.”
“I agree with that.” Didier glared at Fab.
Chapter 16
Fab and I had made up, our friendship no longer in danger of exploding in pieces, never to be resurrected. She hadn’t decided about her working relationship with Brick but told me she was mulling over her options.
“Are you going to stare out the window the whole ride?” Fab grumped. “Don’t tell me you’re mad because you wanted to spend more time at the beach?”
I turned from staring out the window at traffic. “Didn’t I graciously say yes to my best friend when she asked for my help?”
She honked at another driver as both of them merged onto the Turnpike, trading finger sign language.
It surprised me when she pulled into the less-congested, “slow” lane, but that didn’t last long. She jammed on the gas and took off, leaving the other car in the dust.
“You were light on the details,” I said. “Why don’t you spill them now? I’ll let you know if you need to drop me for an iced coffee and come back when you’re done.”
“You sound like your damn boyfriend,” she huffed.
“The same ‘damn’ one that possibly saved your life?” I returned angrily. “Do you really dislike Creole that much, or is it just easy to make fun of him?”
“I said thank you. I know I don’t sound grateful, but I am. It has me seriously thinking I need to be choosier about the jobs I take in the future. Didier and I are happy that the two of you are back together. Why ruin a good thing when our foursome works?”
It bugged me that she hadn't answered the Creole question, but I decided to tackle that subject after we got home. “Is this a Brick job?” I asked.
“No, this one is from an old client I haven’t worked for in years. He moved to D.C. for a while, but now he’s back in Florida.”
“He called out of the blue? ‘Hey how are you? Got a job for you.’? That’s odd.”
Fab ignored my comment. “Edward Lewis is someone high-powered people hire to clean up messy situations they want to have go away rather than make headlines. His client cheated on his wife, and now the girlfriend is refusing to take cash to keep her mouth shut and go away. Instead, she plans to release some ‘up close and personal’ photos, under the delusion that it will make the man want to leave his wife and set up house with her.”
“So her plan for a happy life is blackmail?” I shook my head. “Let me guess, your client wants the pictures. How are we going to find them?”
“I’ve already searched every inch of her condo—twice. Last time, I planted a bug and a couple of cameras and hired an IT tech through Phil to monitor the devices. Her connections are far more reliable than mine. I didn’t want to get screwed and have someone I hired compound the blackmail situation. Thanks to my bugs, I now know where the drive is. Clever girl, she used your trick and put the USB drive inside a safe built into a piece of furniture. Damned if I didn’t miss it.”
After I moved into my house, I’d bought a safe and had a box made that fit over the top and disguised it as a side table. Only Fab and I knew about the hiding place.
“Stating the obvious…” I looked over at her. “It’s the middle of the day, and it’s highly likely we will be seen by someone.”
“In-and-out job. Kimber won’t be home; she has a standing appointment at Oasis to get her hair and nails done.”
I rolled my eyes. “What am I doing, guarding the parking lot while you pick the lock, run in, and snatch and grab?”
“You are going to take the flower box in the back seat and stand in the hallway, out of sight of the door. She shows up, you ring the bell. Here’s the problem: the only way out is through the door you’ll be guarding. And no good hiding places inside.”
“You want me to distract her so you can pole vault out the window?”
“Twentieth floor.” Fab made a face. “I need to get in better shape. I found this new gym in Marathon run by ex-military men. They teach survival skills and have an awesome climbing wall.”
Better shape. I made a gagging noise. Someone needed to smack her.
“This plan of yours stinks.” I wrinkled my nose. “If I stand in the hallway and Kimber shows, you can’t get out. It would be better if I knew what she looked like and the kind of car she drives; then I can station myself between the lobby door and underground parking and call you if she shows.”
Fab handed me her phone. “Check out the pictures.”
“Or Plan B: Stake out the hallway. She shows, I force her inside the condo, we tie her up, and run like hell. Then wait for the cops to show up and drag our butts to jail. Kidnapping gets you twenty years, doesn’t it? And co-conspirators go to different prisons.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Fab grumbled.
“If you get arrested, will your cleaner client step up and make the charges go away? If he doesn’t, I’ll blab everything I know.”
“That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Before getting out of the car, I texted the address to Creole. He was going to be furious. I hoped I’d get off with just a lecture. Sometimes, when he was really mad, he didn’t show up for a couple of days.
I swept my hair up in a ponytail and stuffed most of it under a baseball cap, donning dark-tinted sunglasses that covered half my face. The florist box was a stupid idea, and I left it on the back seat. I got into position, pacing the area between the lobby and the security gate to the garage. I had several opportunities to sneak into the underground parking lot for a peak around, but past experience reminded me that getting out might not be as easy as getting in.
My phone dinged, alerting me to a message, and my stomach dropped. “She’s back. Under the bed.” The air sucked itself out of my lungs. How had she gotten past me?
What the hell do I do now?
I ran back to the SUV and grabbed the flowers. I rejected texting Creole. He’d tell me to leave, his rationale being that both of us didn’t need to get booked and fingerprinted. Getting into the lobby was a piece of cake with my lockpick. I kept my head down in case the security cameras picked up the unusual activity. Riding up in the elevator, I improvised a gutsy plan.
Taking a deep breath, I shoved my sunglasses into my bra before knocking on the door. The picture on Fab’s phone didn’t do the petite blonde who answered justice; early twenties, she reminded me of a college cheerleader.
“Flowers for Kimber Reed.” I thrust the box forward.
“Ohhh.” She flashed a megawatt smile. “Wait here, and I’ll get you a tip.”
Kimber crossed into the living room and retrieved her purse off a chair. She turned back around, cash in hand, and yelped.
I had stepped inside, c
losing the door softly behind me. The condo was small, furnished in blue and cream with put-it-together-yourself furniture, but lots of light shone through the windows.
“Don’t scream.” I held eye contact, trying for a reassuring smile. “This isn’t what it looks like. Just want to talk. I promise, I have no intention of hurting you.”
Kimber began hyperventilating. Unable to catch her breath, she gasped, “Inhaler,” and gestured to her purse.
I forced her down on the couch and grabbed her bag, upending the contents on the floor, grabbing up the medication, and putting it in her hands. Unsure what to do, I sat down next to her, rubbing circles in her back. If she died under these circumstances, it would be murder for sure.
“Anything else I can get you?” From the corner of my eye, I saw Fab standing in the bedroom door; I motioned for her to leave.
Kimber shook her head and started to breathe more normally.
“I’m Susan; this is Mary.” I gestured to Fab, since she’d ignored my directions and moved over behind me. “We just want to talk about your blackmail scheme. Come up with a resolution that is acceptable to all parties.”
“Did Marco send you?” Kimber hugged herself and started to cry.
“Kleenex,” I mouthed to Fab. Assuming he was the married husband, I said, “Yes.”
Fab came back with a roll of toilet paper. Kimber blew her nose, sounding like a foghorn. “I just want to be with Marco,” she cried. “I love him.”
“I don’t want to be unkind, but once you chose to blackmail your lover, the relationship was over,” I said.
“Not to mention you’ll ruin his career,” Fab pointed out.
I looked at Fab quizzically; clearly she’d left out a few details.
“Marco was just re-elected to a four-year term,” Kimber said. “By the time elections come around again, people will have forgotten.” She blew her nose again. “You don’t understand. Even the kids like me better than Isabel. I demanded five million, and when he pays, we won’t need her money and can be together.”
Executed in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 9) Page 11