Executed in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 9)

by Deborah Brown

  Both of us jumped at the sound of the front door slamming and ducked out of sight. Starletta raced across the grass to the trunk of her car, retrieved two red gas cans, and disappeared back inside. She kicked at the door, but it didn’t close completely, and her incoherent screaming could be heard moving around the house.

  “I’m going around the back.” Fab twisted the back of my shirt. “Keep watch on the front.” She moved quietly around the side of the house.

  I snuck up the front steps, thinking I could be more useful checking out the front, thereby eliminating any more delays. Gun in my hand, I crept across the porch, and squinted through the six-inch opening. Starletta crisscrossed the hallway, splashing gas on the baseboards and walls. I could swear I hadn’t made any noise, but she jumped around, frozen and wide-eyed, her mouth going slack at the sight of my gun trained on her. Extending the can out in front of her, she pulled her gun from her waistband.

  “Go ahead, shoot me,” she screamed, “and we all burn together.”

  My gun was trained on her chest, but the gas can was in the way. If I shot that, it would cause an explosion; if I shot her elsewhere, the pain might cause her to squeeze the trigger reflexively. We were in a standoff. She let loose with a high-pitched, hysterical laugh, her eyes darting toward the door.

  I held out one hand. “Let’s discuss this like rational women. Join forces. We can help one another. No one has to die today,” I said, trying to sound casual. I knew Starletta was dangerous, but hopefully she wasn’t completely unhinged. If I could stall her, keep her talking, Fab could get in through the back and get the drop on her. It was a half-assed plan, but it would have to do.

  “You’re such a Pollyanna, makes me want to erp,” she said and punctuated it with a gagging sound. “Now get in here before I burn your fat friend to a crisp.”

  It surprised me that she didn’t ask for my gun. I shifted it behind my thigh.

  “Don’t be getting rid of that,” she said, waving her gun in the direction of my leg. “Once I determine whether you’ve brought anything of interest to this tête-à-tête of ours, we’ll play shootout, old-west style. You know, count the paces, turn, and one blows the other to hell.” She was dressed for her little scenario, wearing a knee-length, ruffled full skirt, a matching bandana on her head, and cowboy boots.

  If I didn’t know Fab was right outside, I’d take my chances with her shootout scenario right now.

  I looked around, spotting Mac in the corner. She was tethered to a chair, disheveled and on the verge of shock, one side of her face and eye puffed and swelling. Her eyes brimmed with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Noises could be heard from behind her gag, which was nothing more than a bunched-up rag that Mac worked her jaw to dislodge without much success.

  “Set your damn gun on the floor. I’m not ready to play yet.” Starletta produced a lighter from inside her boot and flicked it open.

  If I had any doubts that she was delusional and crazy, they were gone now. I ignored her request, weighing my options. Putting my gun down wasn’t one of them, and I decided to chat in hopes of distracting her. “You’re not going to like burning to death. You might want to give that some thought before igniting a flame that you can’t control. Besides, it seems to me your track record so far has been to only kill men; why switch now? You know you’re going to be infamous. I’m not the only one who would like to hear why you killed all those men. You’ll exceed your fifteen minutes of fame with all the headlines and news coverage.” I willed myself to maintain eye contact. If I could figure out Starletta’s next move, maybe I could keep anyone else from dying.

  “You’ve got this all wrong. She’s the killer.” Starletta pointed to Mac. “I know because I spied on her.”

  Mac wiggled ferociously in her chair, making gurgling sounds, her head swinging side to side.

  “If that’s the truth, then why become her executioner? Why not let the court do its job?” I shot Mac a reassuring look, then turned back to Starletta. “Come on, tell the truth, it was you that murdered those men. Why?”

  Starletta’s eyes widened. She started nodding to herself, as though contemplating her next words. “You know how it is. When a relationship is over, who wants to see the man again, be forced to speak to the bastard knowing you wish they were in their grave? You know they’re going to end up there anyway; why not a little earlier than planned?” Her eyes weren’t quite focused, a dreamy smile on her face, and her hands shook.

  “A civilized ‘I never want to see you again’ and then avoiding the man would have worked better than all the bloodshed,” I said. “The added bonus is then you’re not looking over your shoulder, waiting for the police to show up and arrest you.”

  Starletta didn’t seem to notice that I had spoken. She made a crowing sound. “Homer was my first one, and he’s never been discovered. I figured why the hell not? I loved him, and how did he repay me? He beat me and did other vile things. I broke into his house that day and hid until he got off work, then shot him as he came through the door, before I lost my nerve. It’s true what they say: you always have a soft spot for your first. After that, it became a game and just plain fun.”

  I tried not to shudder at the way she related the story with a complete lack of feeling.

  “Poor Homer’s probably been eaten by animals by this time. Left him face down in the woods off the Turnpike in Central Florida. Great dumping ground out there. Did you know you can unload your clip in the forest and no one comes a-lookin’? Good thing.” She gave another high-pitched laugh.

  “I’m in awe of your talents,” I managed to say without stumbling on my words. I backed up a step. “The man that you left in The Cottage dumpster, how did you manage to get him into it?” I hoped to keep her talking about her exploits; she seemed to revel in her murderous rampage, enjoying the retelling as if they were fond memories.

  “I paid Skippy Newman to haul out the trash. Got to find me a new hauler, though. He caught a conscience and is no longer with us.” She wiped a non-existent tear and giggled.

  Poor Skippy.

  Where the hell is Fab? Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement from the doorway leading to the hallway.

  “Why Mac?” I asked.

  Starletta leaned in Mac’s direction. “Bitch,” she hissed in her face. Mac flinched. “It was bad enough that she wouldn’t rent to me, but then Crum and I got into an argument and he took her side. That’s when I decided to set her up, make those stupid cops think they had their killer, and disappear up north. Reading my news articles, I realized I have to get creative and not kill them all the same way. Then they’ll be chasing a dozen people instead of little ol’ me.”

  Sooner or later, they’d catch up to her. I hadn’t met anyone stupid in law enforcement, and that included Kevin, who I didn’t like.

  “Soon as I get done here, I’m going to stop by The Cottages and do a little house—or should I say cottage?—cleaning.” Starletta laughed hysterically and turned, tossing the gas can at Mac, hitting her in the side of the head, gasoline sloshing down her clothes. Mac hung her head, shaking it back and forth. Starletta retrieved the second can from nearby, swinging her arm back...

  The hallway door hit the wall and splintered. Fab stormed into the room.

  I took advantage of Starletta’s distraction and aimed my gun at her, but before I could shoot, she dropped the can.

  “Put your guns down, or I’ll set us all on fire.” She flicked open her lighter.

  I had already determined that, with all the gasoline puddled on the floor, one flick and the house would quickly roar into flames. The wooden structure would burn to the ground with the four of us trying to get out.

  I was damned if we were going to die.

  “Okay, we’ll put our guns down. Won’t we, Fab?” She nodded without looking at me. “We can come to a win-win agreement.” I held my weapon out, capturing Starletta’s attention.

  There was a deafening explosion and a shriek. Starletta stared open-
mouthed, an expression of surprise and confusion on her bony face, as Fab rushed over and kicked her to the ground. She had her divested of her gun and lighter before she had a chance to move. Blood gushing from a hole in her shoulder, Starletta grasped her shirt and shrieked again, trying to sit up. She fell back and her head hit the floor. She’d be lucky if she ever had use of the arm again.

  “You’re going to jail,” Starletta squealed, “when I tell the cops you’re trying to frame me to help out your friend.” She gasped and struggled, until finally she fainted and her body went slack.

  Fab pointed her gun in Starletta’s face and gave her a stiff kick. A faint “umpf” could be heard. At least she wasn’t dead.

  “What happened to your shoot-to-kill edict?”

  “Too much paperwork.”

  Mac stared, wide-eyed, as I ran over to snatch the gag from her mouth. “What took you two so long?” she choked.

  “You didn’t leave one damn clue,” Fab yelled. She snapped a knife out of her back pocket and made short work of the tape around Mac’s ankles and wrists.

  “I’m calling 911,” I said.

  Mac pointed to the window, where sirens could be heard in the distance. “Too late, someone beat you to it.” She stood and enveloped Fab in a bear hug.

  “Get off me before I shoot you too,” Fab barked. “You really owe me. I got a video recording of the crazy woman’s ramblings.” She held up her cell phone. “The picture part isn’t so great,” she grouched.

  Mac burst into racking sobs.

  I patted her on the back. “I know Fab’s mean. You can hug me.”

  “It’s not that.” Mac hiccupped, tears pouring down her face. “I thought I was going to die. Worse yet, I kept hoping smoke inhalation would knock me out before I burned to death.” She made gulping sounds. “Starletta murdered those men and…” She shrieked, “Crum.”

  “It takes more than that skinny bitch to kill Crum.” Fab found a roll of paper towels and handed her one. “He’ll be back on his feet and prancing around in his underwear in no time.”

  The sirens were now on the next block over. “We need to take this party outside and set our guns on the porch.” I put my arm around Mac. “When the deputies arrive, it’s best to have our hands in the air.”

  “What about…” Mac pointed at Starletta.

  I leaned down, pressing two fingers to her neck, just to be sure. “She’s not dead. I suppose EMS will transport her to the hospital. She needs to go directly to the prison ward.”

  “Before Starletta comes around…” Fab rooted through the drawers, pulling out a scarf, and descended on the woman. She nudged her over on her stomach and tied her hands behind her back.

  “Bitch better not die,” Mac said with venom. “The families of those dead men should have the opportunity to face her and unload on her ass.”

  “You have bloody scratches on your face and some bruising. Don’t touch them.” I batted her hand away and tugged her out the front door. “They might provide DNA evidence. With any luck, we can talk the paramedics into looking at you first.”

  Fab followed us out onto the porch and suggested Mac sit on the step. I stood behind her.

  Two police cars squealed up in front, and Kevin got out of the first car. It wasn’t a friendly face, but at least it was a familiar one.

  Chapter 37

  The next few hours were a flurry of activity. Once Mac and Starletta had been taken away to Tarpon Cove Hospital in separate ambulances, Kevin stalked in Fab’s and my direction. We’d been separated for questioning, and I was quite sure Fab had ignored an order to stay put where we’d been sitting, several feet apart, when she showed up next to me. I was just happy that we got to stay outside; I never wanted to see the inside of that house again.

  I slumped over on the grass.

  Fab dropped to her knees at my side. “You faker.”

  I opened one eye and smiled.

  Fab called to Kevin, “No need for a paramedic; she’s coming around.” She hit me on the back.

  “Ouch. Dammit.”

  “Get up. You’re not leaving me to answer all the questions alone.” She tugged on my arm.

  “Ohhh,” I moaned. “Can you help me sit up so I can catch my breath?”

  “You’re so good at this phony stuff. I’m demanding my IOU back from your mother; the instructions I got didn’t cover this nonsense. I was gypped.”

  I watched as the tips of shiny black shoes approached me. I moaned again and leaned into Fab’s chest. “Send that video to Cruz and Creole and get the lawyer on the phone, or we’ll be sitting here or at the station forever.”

  Fab stood and mumbled something about the bathroom. Kevin nodded, and she went in the direction of the house.

  “You okay?” Kevin asked.

  He actually sounded sincere. I squinted up at him. “I don’t envy you your job.”

  “Some days require more coffee than others.” He gestured toward the vacant chairs on the front porch and started walking that way, expecting me to follow. “Starletta’s been yacking her head off, saying Mac’s the serial killer. The best part is she claimed you and your cohort helped with the logistics and body disposal.”

  Would it be believable if I “fainted” again? Instead, I stood and followed.

  “This will surprise you,” he went on, “but I didn’t believe a word from her lying lips and almost laughed at the mental picture of the two of you dumping bodies. ‘Trouble’ over there,” he said, pointing over his shoulder at Fab, “wouldn’t get her designer jeans dirty. And although Mac is… quirky… I know she’s straight up. Besides, killers don’t generally report finding bodies on their property when they’re the ones who put them there. They tend to dig a hole and kick the deceased in, or they come up with something too gruesome to be believed.”

  “Well… I agree with you. Is this the start of a friendship?” I asked.

  “Let’s not get carried away.” He chuckled. “Are we waiting for your lawyer?”

  I shook my head. Then I began at the beginning—the beginning of the end, at least—and told him about finding Crum and the paramedics taking him to Tarpon Cove Hospital. I skipped the part about checking out Starletta’s apartment, and instead told him that we’d decided on the way home to stop by Mac’s as a last resort, hoping to find a clue to her whereabouts, and that we’d walked in on Starletta preparing to torch Mac’s house with Mac in it.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t offer to rent a cottage to the charming Starletta.”

  The twinkle in Kevin’s eye told me he thought he was amusing. “Oh, she tried, but Mac has ‘crazy’ radar and told her we didn’t have any vacancies. Which was true. It was the part about ‘and we never will’ that probably set Starletta off and started the feud between the two.”

  One of the deputies tried to interrupt Fab’s phone call, and she could be heard informing the man that she was talking to her lawyer. Then she handed him the phone. A couple of minutes later, the phone exchanged hands again and she appeared at Kevin’s side, handing it over. “Cruz told me to give this to you. It’s evidence. He also told me to tell you that we are available at your convenience. A little notice would be nice.” She sniffed.

  Kevin arched his brow. “What’s on here?” He looked down at the phone.

  Fab told him about how she had gotten a partial confession on tape, saying the audio was clear and grumbling that the video wasn’t what she’d hoped for. “Cruz wanted me to tell you that he represents Mac and the two of us.” She wagged her finger and turned on me. “And he told me to tell you not to refer the defendant to him—he’s not interested.”

  “Can I have your phone?” Kevin asked me, thrusting out his hand.

  “Is it possible to call Creole first?” I asked.

  “I took care of that.” Fab winked at me.

  “You two stay here,” Kevin ordered. “No sneaking off. I know where you live.” He left with a big grin on his face, leaving us to stare at his back.

  “H
e’s awfully nice today.” Fab sniffed in suspicion. “I forwarded the videos and texted Didier and Creole. I told Creole you were fine after collapsing. You can tell him it was a hoax and your idea.”

  “Be smug now, but I predict that hell hath no fury like Creole worried about his girlfriend—” I poked myself in the chest, “—especially for no reason.”

  “How long are we going to have to sit here?” Fab was always out of patience when law enforcement was involved; she preferred to say as little as possible and leave.

  “As long as it takes. Instead of making barn animal noises, go to your calm place, sit cross-legged, and breathe.”

  Fab crossed her arms and scowled. “I’ve never been in a barn.”

  I looked away and laughed.

  Chapter 38

  When our interview with the deputies was over, Fab and I all but ran to the SUV. We left them trying to do crowd control, all the neighbors suddenly out for a walk and wanting to trample the crime scene.

  When Fab pulled into my driveway, it didn’t escape our notice that both our boyfriends’ vehicles were parked across the street.

  Before Fab could do a disappearing act into the house, I grabbed the back of her shirt. “You try and get away, and I’ll bust a cap in your butt. Knowing you, it will make you look sexier to have a bullet hole back there.”

  Fab leveled her intimidating stare at me. “With what? Have you forgotten we got our guns taken away? Again.”

  “You listen to me—if I’m going to get the safety lecture, then you’re going to sit through every excruciating word. No skipping upstairs for fun and games.”

  “You think I don’t get my share of lectures?” She let loose an unladylike snort. “Well, I do. Once Didier figured out I tuned him out like that odious elevator music, the sneaky devil started making sure I paid attention to every word.”

  “Probably has something to do with that S-word.”