It had surprised me when I got a call from the man himself, offering me a job; although light on details, he’d piqued my interest. He made it clear he wanted me and not necessarily my “friend/partner” unless I needed her, and that was my call to make.
I parked the SUV in the only visitor parking space in front of the door. Getting out, I smoothed my hands down the front of my skirt, patted my handgun at the small of my back, reminding myself I wanted more target practice with my new favorite firearm, and shoved my phone in my pocket. I traded my flip-flops for low slides, wanting a more professional look. Finally, I grabbed a small leather portfolio off the seat.
Spoon held the door open, whistling when I stepped inside. “How’s my favorite daughter?”
I kissed his cheek. “You’ve been hanging around Mother too much. Brad and I used the favorite daughter/son thing to drum up sympathy or guilt to get whatever we wanted.”
“Have a seat.” He gestured to the two black leather chairs in front of his desk. It looked nothing like the waiting area at your local mechanic’s. His office was spotless, with no grease odor. A large couch flanked one wall, comfortable seating across from the sixty-inch flat screen; there was a pool table in the center of the room, an old vending machine that held cold drinks, and a small bar tucked in the corner. This was the room where I introduced Mother and Spoon; who could have known, on that fateful day, that when he fulfilled her request for a Jack Daniels on the rocks, it would be the start of a great romance.
“You were my first choice for this job, as you possess the needed skills.” He paused to take a folder out of his top desk drawer. “I have a friend, Ruth Monroe, who’s getting on years. Her daughter wants to relocate her to Naples to be closer to the family and see her grandchildren more often, but she refuses to go until she can find homes for her animals.”
The smile disappeared from my face. I didn’t hear his next few words. An animal case, is that all people think I’m qualified for?
“…she’s eccentric and requires special handling, which is why I thought of you. I’m not asking for a family freebie; I pay good.”
Hands in my lap, fingers entwined, I squeezed hard. “Does my mother know?”
He nodded. “We agreed that you were the perfect choice. This is one job that won’t require a gun.”
“How many animals?” I asked, trying to show an interest. “I don’t know anyone looking for a pet at this time. I do have a connection with the local animal shelter—it’s no-kill, and I can get their assistance.”
“Last time I was there, she had a half-dozen cats and a dog.” Spoon passed me a sheet of paper. “Here’s all the information, and I drew a rough map of how to get to her house.” He flipped the page over to show me. “She lives on a dirt road several miles south, off the Overseas. It’s best to drive out there in daylight. Ruth is a friendly woman; she’ll be happy for the company. I included her phone number, but she never answers.”
I perused the map unenthusiastically. I planned to use it as my excuse to leave immediately, telling him that I’d check the situation out today. Studying it, I knew generally where the area was located: a remote section of the Keys. I stood up. “I think I’ll go now, introduce myself, and get a pet count,” I said, my voice distant. Ignoring his quizzical look, I headed for the door.
“You have any problems, let me know. Call when the job is done, and I’ll get a check to you.”
“I’m doing this as a favor because I love animals,” I said and held up my hand before he could say anything. “In return, you will not tell anyone that you offered me the job.” I flashed a lame smile and closed the door.
Check? I thought, settling myself behind the wheel. I’d forgotten, after working for Brick and his crisp hundred-dollar bills, that that was how most people got paid. I would have found the whole thing amusing if my pride weren’t stinging.
It was another beautiful day as I drove down the Overseas Highway, taking the turn on the outskirts of Islamorada. There was a small Key in here, but I couldn’t remember the name and there was no sign. I continued past a run-down trailer park; there were a lot of cars beside each one, but not a person in sight, only a lone dog snoozing in the middle of the entrance. The paved road turned to dirt and gravel, and if I hadn’t been paying attention, I’d have missed the “Keep Out” sign. Weeds grew up knee-high along the side of the road, and tree branches hung down, giving it an eerie feeling.
Spoon was right about coming out here in the daytime; I wouldn’t want to be on this road at night. It made a slight curve and came to an abrupt end. Parking in front of a faded purple doublewide, I stared, taking it all in: the weed-filled gravel yard, an old broken-down golf cart parked haphazardly in front of the deck that ran across the front, and at quick glance, two dozen cats lounging about, barely sparing me a glance.
Cats are hard to place, more so than dogs, and I hoped there weren’t any more lurking around. I’d barely finished that thought when four dogs of undetermined origin and various sizes rounded the corner, running at me full-tilt, tails wagging. I bent down, holding out my hands to ward off the onslaught, and they barked and licked and jumped for attention.
“Sit,” I commanded. They ignored me and continued to dance; then one bit another, and the chase was on across the field behind the house. It was then I noticed the partially fenced-in area that was home to three horses.
An older, grey-haired woman strode out on the deck. Ruth, I assumed. Her bright-yellow sundress would have been cute if it weren’t several sizes too big and swallowing up her frame. I did like her Wellies; having a pair myself, I knew them to be genuine.
“Hey, dearie.” She waved with a smile. “I don’t believe I recognize you. Lost?”
“Name’s Madison. I’m a friend of Jimmy Spoon’s. I’ve come to help with your animals.”
She tilted her head to the side, checking me over. “You need a cat or a dog, I’ve got one you can take, or both. Come on in.” She gestured for me to follow.
Wishing I had my tennis shoes, I traded my heels for flip-flops and walked carefully, so as not to step on a feline. Of course, not a single one of them moved out of the way. Having a cat, I wasn’t offended by their lack of manners.
The smell raced up my nose as I stepped inside the enclosed patio. Another door on the opposite wall stood open to the main part of the house. Controlling my gag reflex took concentration and small breaths. I was extremely sensitive to smell and knew I wouldn’t be able to stay inside for long. An almost ceiling-high birdcage filled up most of the living room. Half of it was home to several parrots, and the other side housed smaller birds. Not knowing diddly about birds, I nevertheless knew that the cage had to be custom built; it didn’t appear to come from the pet store.
“I’ve got sweet tea,” she called from the strip kitchen.
“I’m good.” The counters and table were clear, but the kitchen hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time; it had the same dirty, gritty feel as the rest of the place. Every piece of faded and worn furniture had an animal lying on it—dogs on the upholstered furniture, cats on the tables.
“Let’s go outside and talk,” I suggested, unable to take the stench a minute longer. The only chair outside was an aluminum one leaning against the siding next to the door, the ashtray by the leg filled to the brim with cigarette butts. A minute after settling on the top step, I had two cats vying for space on my lap. I just hoped a fight didn’t break out.
Ruth snapped out her chair and slunk down, a cigarette poised between her fingers that she didn’t bother to light. “Why are you here again?”
“I’m here to help find homes for the animals. Get you ready for your move to Naples.”
“I haven’t been there in years.” She started singing off-key, a tune I didn’t recognize.
Spoon has a lot to answer for.
“What year is it?” I smiled at her in encouragement. When she didn’t answer, I asked, “The president?” I remembered that those were commonly asked ques
tions to determine competency.
Ruth cocked her head to the side, wiggling her nose. “You can take a horse, if you like; I don’t ride anymore.” She was sober, no sign of drug use, fabulous skin tone; women paid big money to get something in a jar to effect that look. Her cigarette still wobbled, unlit, between her lips. My guess was she had no intention of smoking since she had nothing to light it with. I wanted to close my eyes and open them again to find I’d been dreaming. This wasn’t a case of “Free Cats.” In my limited opinion, she shouldn’t be out here by herself. What was I going to do with cats, dogs, birds, horses, and who knew what else?
I should have one of each delivered to Spoon—that idea made me feel better. I turned at the crunching of tires on the dirt road. Two sheriff’s cars blew up in a cloud of the dust, parking alongside my SUV. When Kevin stepped out, I knew that whatever was going on had just gotten more complicated.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
“I’m fine, and you?” I turned to Ruth. “Go inside,” I whispered. “I’ll handle this.”
She leaned forward and patted my cheek. “You’re a sweet one.” It took her two tries to stand up. She went inside, banging the door
“Where’s she going? I’m here to talk to her,” Kevin growled.
I blocked the steps. “I can help you.”
“I’m here to investigate a complaint of animal abuse.”
“You’ll be happy to know that the reason I’m here is to relocate all of the animals. There’s a plan in place, and they should be gone in a week or two.” He didn’t need to know that I didn’t have a clue how I would relocate all the animals. I would have pushed for extra time if it wouldn’t have tipped him off to that fact.
“Get out of my way,” Kevin ordered.
The other deputy, who had climbed partway up the fence, jumped down. “The horses are doing fine—munching on weeds. That’s about it.”
“You need permission to go in, or a warrant, and you don’t have the former, so I’d like to see the latter.” I held out my hand.
“Can’t you for once not be a smart-ass?” Kevin sneered.
I had irritated him faster than usual today. “I’m trying to do the right thing. Give me some time; save the county some money. What are you going to do—round up the animals and have them murdered?”
He appeared to be struggling to be civil. “One week.” He held up a finger. “Don’t make me regret this and don’t make me get a warrant. At that point, I’ll have someone with me from Adult Protective Services and take Miss Ruth into custody.” He turned and stomped back to his car.
“Thank you,” I called.
I waited until they’d disappeared from sight, the dust had settled, and the car engines could no longer be heard. Then I knocked and went inside, leaving the door open. It was time to assess how bad the situation was.
Ruth was curled on her side on the couch, asleep, three cats lined up along the back. A very pregnant cat with big blue eyes meowed up at me from the chair next to where I stood. I reached out to pet her; she reminded me of Jazz, except her long hair was solid white. I had no clue how old she was but somehow knew this wasn’t her first time popping out kittens.
I started with the kitchen, opening the cupboards and finding them mostly bare. A medium-size aluminum garbage can under the sink held cat food and was almost empty. Another one had dog food in it and was a little fuller, but not by much. There was another enclosed patio room that ran along the back of the house; peering through the window, I counted six hairy, ankle-biter dogs. The next room, which had once been a bedroom, was now empty except for a dozen cat boxes that hadn’t been cleaned; there was no cat sand anywhere to be found. Ruth’s bedroom, judging by the tray of jewelry and a few other personal items, had several layers of dirt on the floor, like the rest of the house, but the bed had been made and not a single piece of clothing was lying about. Not even a pair of shoes.
I walked outside, phone in hand. When Spoon answered, I demanded, “When in the hell was the last time you paid your good friend a visit or even talked to her?”
“I admit it’s been a while. Ruth’s not dead, is she?”
“You need to get her daughter down here to take custody of her; if she doesn’t, in one week, Ruth will become a ward of the state.” I told him about Kevin’s visit. “Got a pen?”
I took his grunt for a yes and listed off the supplies that were needed. Today. “You need to send someone over to spend the night in the driveway and keep an eye on her. If they have a strong stomach, they could go inside; she probably wouldn’t mind the company. I can find someone starting tomorrow. One more thing: this job is no longer free. I see large donations to shelters in your near future; that is, if you want this taken care of without law enforcement involvement.”
“I’ll send someone over right away. Will you be there when Billy gets there? Someone else will deliver the horse feed—not sure who yet. I have no clue what they eat, but I guess I’m going to find out.”
“Tell Billy to check the Hummer when he gets here. With any luck, I can close my eyes and pretend I’m at the beach.” Anything to take my mind off the overwhelming situation.
* * *
Billy Keith lumbered up in a camper that was in good condition. It could sleep two comfortably, but it wouldn’t take long before you got on each other’s nerves. He looked around, brushing his sun-bleached hair out of his face, before making his way over to me. His demeanor was shy and unassuming, but with this man, it would be a mistake not to look below the surface; he didn’t have a mean-as-stink reputation for nothing. “Boss Dude says you need help here. I’m applying.” He flashed a crooked smile.
“Don’t you already work full-time?” I wasn’t exactly sure what he did for Spoon and had never asked. I knew from past experience that he wouldn’t answer anyway. He didn’t actually say “none of your business,” but his attitude spoke for him. All I knew was that Spoon trusted him, and when there was trouble, Spoon sent him. Billy had been assigned to all trouble starting with Madison and Fab a while back, and he showed up and delivered every time we needed help.
“I’m the only one at the shop with the necessary qualifications. I have an old crazy grandma, love animals, and have no sense of smell; six dead people could be inside for all I care. Did I mention extra pay?” His laugh reminded me of a growling dog..
“Whatever money you agreed on, I’ll tell Boss Dude he has to pay you three times the amount.”
“You’ve always been my favorite.” He grinned.
Since Spoon had obviously been light on the details, I filled Billy in on what I’d learned and the work that would need to be done. I was surrounded by people who thought “the less you know the better,” but I didn’t happen to subscribe to that mode of operation. “I’m mostly certain that I have horse connections, and hopefully, they can be trucked out of here tomorrow—I’ll stress the urgency. I’m feeling very confident about a home for the birds. Before leaving, I need an animal count, and breeds for the dogs would be good.”
Billy nodded. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this done in a week. If the daughter wants to sell, I may know a buyer.”
“Spoon knows the daughter, and if a deal can be worked out for the property, it would be less in closing costs and more money in her pocket. Come inside.”
Ruth was awake and watching television, the sound muted. When I made the introductions, she smiled at Billy and pointed to a chair.
Billy apparently hadn’t exaggerated about having no sense of smell; he hadn’t turned up his nose once. He picked up a dog and settled both himself and the dog back in the chair.
“Do you mind if I take one of the cats?” I asked.
“There’s not many left now,” Ruth said absently. “I’m sure you’ll give it a good home.”
“I’ll see you both tomorrow. If you need anything, call me,” I told Billy.
On my way to the door, I stopped and picked up the pregnant cat, who meowed and licked my hand. Earlie
r, I had got a beach towel out of the back of the Hummer and made a bed in the passenger seat. “You’re going to a good home, and we’ll find good homes for your babies,” I whispered to the white ball of fluff as I put her in the bed.
Chapter 20
Fab hung over the kitchen sink, watching as I passed the garden window the next day. “What is that?” She pointed at the box I was carrying as I kicked the front door closed with a bang.
“What?” I looked down. “Oh this.” I held up the cat carrier, dropping the new cat bed on the floor. I’d made a quick stop at the pet store after the vet. “This is Snow, the newest member of our family. Mother will be ecstatic—she’s pregnant.” I bent down and opened the carrier door.
I’d thought more about naming the feline than who I’d call to find a permanent home for the rest of the animals.
“What about the king here?” Fab had Jazz on the counter, which was forbidden, and was combing his fur with her fingers.
“He welcomed the dog we had for a short time. I think as long as we continue to spoil him, he’ll be fine. Not so sure about Snow, but she has babies to get ready for.”
“What’s up with you? Don’t you dare say ‘nothing.’ You barely said anything to Didier before blowing out the door this morning. Your behavior earned you the raised eyebrow, and in case you didn’t know, he’s not happy when you get the look.” She put extra emphasis on that last, her hands on her hips. “Before you give me some made-up story, I overheard you talking about horses and birds. I would’ve confronted you then, about the phone call and that––Snow, but you ran out of the house.” She watched as the feline waddled across the room and lay down in front of the patio doors. She had slept by the patio door the night before, so I took her new bed to that spot and put her blanket in it.
“You and I both know that if you were worried, you would have stalked me out to the driveway. But then how would you explain to Didier that you were eavesdropping? Especially after the big ‘behave yourself’ talk.” I made air quotes.
Executed in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 9) Page 14