Lottery in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 11)

by Deborah Brown

  “I’ll get pictures; that should mollify Brick.”

  I snorted. “Highly doubt that.”

  Fab slowed and eyed the mega mansions behind locked gates, security cameras prominent. The houses were set back from the street and shielded by palm trees along the front of the property line. Fab pulled over a few blocks up, in front of an empty lot with a “For Sale” sign posted, leaving the engine running. She released her seatbelt and climbed into the back. “You drive. Drop me off at Kasey’s, park at the private club up a few blocks on the right, and wait for my phone call.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s broad daylight, which increases the risk of being seen doing something illegal. Even if you aren’t, it’s not like you’d go unnoticed.”

  “I’m not here to steal anything or do anything that would necessitate a police call. Look at me, do I look like a thief? Maybe the shoes; I’m borrowing a pair of your flip-flops.” Fab emptied out her purse on the back seat. “I knew these would come in handy.” She fastened a diamond bracelet around her wrist and shoved a matching ring that could poke an eye out on her left hand. “Nice, huh? Best bargain ever. Five bucks each. Best paste I’ve seen in a long time.”

  “When you get bored with them, I call dibs on the bracelet, but only if the gold hasn’t worn off.” I crawled into the driver’s seat.

  “That’s the drawback of cheap stuff.”

  “In case you get caught loitering on private property, do you have a picture of Snow on your phone? Work it—you know, worried, weepy if you can pull that off, ‘she just had babies’ in a slightly hysterical tone. That might also be hard for you. Do your best.” Fab professed to not be an animal lover, but the cats loved her, and she never turned them away, always bribing them with deli treats that she picked out herself.

  Fab shot me a dirty look, shoving a couple of large bills in her pocket. “Let me out at the end of the property line. Wait until I get over the fence.”

  I dropped her off and watched as she checked out the front and cut through the bushes and around the side. A minute later, she came through the trees and waved. It was hard to be inconspicuous cruising the million-dollar neighborhood in a high-profile SUV, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I pulled into the parking lot of the private club. Thankfully, it had no security guard, and I headed to the back, pulling in between two Mercedes.

  I attempted to stay calm, tapping my foot against the accelerator. Getting out and walking in circles around the SUV would attract attention. Fingers crossed, if Fab got caught trespassing, that it would be by Mr. Kasey. She could charm any man, the older the better.

  I checked my watch for the fifth time with a disgusted snort. It usually didn’t bother me that my watches never told the time, since I never set them. I picked up my phone – ten minutes. This waiting business gave me a stomachache, which had begun as soon as we turned off the highway into Naples.

  Five more minutes went by, and I made a new hard-and-fast rule – no more jobs without a Plan B. It was taking too long. I powered down the window, listening for an approaching siren. I wasn’t sure the cops did that when responding to a burglary call.

  Finally, my phone rang, Fab’s picture popping up. She disconnected before I could answer. I zipped out of the space, bypassing the circle drive, and shot out the exit. Happy to see Fab walking towards me, I drove past her, hung a wide u-turn, and pulled up next to her. She jumped into the passenger seat.

  “You’re only driving until we get back to the Interstate.” Fab kicked off the flops, throwing them over the seat. She knelt on the seat and grabbed her heels off the back seat.

  “What took you so damn long? I was ready to do something possibly stupid.”

  “No pricey sports car, thank you for asking.”

  “I’m just happy that you’re not handcuffed and headed to the local jail.”

  “Ran into the groundskeeper, sitting under a banana tree smoking a joint. I ditched my elaborate lie for a little blackmail and cash. Suggested his boss might take it poorly if he found out an employee was a pot smoker. Then tried to sound sympathetic and told him it would be hard to phony up a drug test unless he had time to go to the weed store and get the concoction to drink and even more time to drink ten gallons of water. I figured I’d scored when he paled under his leathery cheeks.”

  “This is where you mentioned the money? How much? Brick’s reimbursing,” I said.

  “This is why I need you; you keep track of the pesky details. I pulled out a hundred and said, ‘I need some info, and then we’ll forget we ever met.’ He looked so relieved, I felt a bit sorry for him.”

  “You get anything?” I asked.

  “He gave me a tour of the garage, forewarned me he hadn’t seen the car I was trying to locate. Didn’t bat a lash when I snapped photos. I held up another hundred and asked, ‘Do you have any useful information?’ planning to give it to him anyway.”

  “Good idea.”

  “Turns out, Kelsey owns an airport hangar where he parks his car collection. Thought maybe it was local, but he didn’t know for sure. Did tell me Kasey never talked to the ‘help’—sent the butler out to relay messages. It’s a condition of employment not to ‘chat it up’ with any of the other employees. He thanked me for not turning him in, told me the job paid good for a man who liked to indulge; he cited nerves.”

  “That’s where rich people make their mistake. A few hellos and his groundskeeper would have taken the money to keep his secret and offered up nothing else.” I shook my head at the stupidity of most people, not knowing how far being a little nice went in inspiring loyalty.

  I spotted a coffee drive-thru sign up ahead, stopped at the entrance to the order lane, and crawled across the seat while Fab went around. She rolled down the window, and I hollered across the car, “Strawberry Lemonade.”

  “It’s got sugar in it.” Fab screwed up her nose.

  “Lots of it.” I licked my lips. “There’s money in the console.” I flipped up the lid. While we waited, I retrieved my phone from my pocket and made a call. “Hello,” I said overly sweetly and pushed the speaker button. “I got a job for you. No penny pinching; you get to bill full rate.”

  “What are you two up to now?” Phil asked.

  “You’re suspicious?” I clasped my chest.

  Fab shook her head.

  I relayed the details of the Kasey case and asked if she could locate a private airport hangar.

  “I can find most anything,” she said smugly.

  “Need this yesterday. It’s for one of Fab’s big clients.”

  “When you have time, I’ve got a business proposition for you,” Phil said.

  Fab and I exchanged raised eyebrows. My stomachache came roaring back; this might be the “I’m leaving Jake’s” talk. Knowing it was coming and hearing the words were two very different things.

  “Do I get a hint?” I asked.

  Phil laughed. “No, I think I’ll spring it on you in person.”

  I groaned. “I’ll stop by Jake’s tomorrow. It’ll take us a while to get back, even with traffic on our side.” I clicked off.

  “Time to find another bartender,” Fab taunted.

  I ignored her. “You better call Brick before he starts burning up your phone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I planned to sneak out of the house and head over to Jake’s first thing in the morning, knowing that Phil opened early. Oftentimes, she used the outside deck as office space. As I was reaching for the door handle, Fab came rocketing down the stairs.

  “Oh no you don’t. I’m going,” she said, grabbing her bag off the nearby bench.

  “I can repeat the conversation word for word when I get back. You can spend the morning with Didier.”

  “You always leave something out in the retelling. Besides, Didier’s left already.”

  Fab jerked the keys out of my hand and was behind the wheel of the SUV before I got the front door locked. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she put an energ
y shot in her espresso. She backed out of the driveway, tires squealing.

  “Have you forgotten that the corner is a favorite speed trap location?” I hung onto the sissy bar.

  Fab ignored me, hunched over the wheel, and pulled out on the highway, flying down the road.

  I need a helmet.

  I didn’t time it but felt certain we made it to Jake’s in record time. Since a food delivery truck blocked her usual space in front of the kitchen door, Fab whirled around and parked in front.

  Even though we both had keys, Fab flipped out her lockpick and had the door open in record time.

  Phil waved from behind the bar.

  “No caffeine for her.” I pointed to Fab.

  “It’s natural energy.” Fab pirouetted on her toes.

  “The meeting is being held out on the deck.” Phil set a plate on the tray that held the drinks and headed outside. The private table reserved for special clientele had place settings for three. “You’re in a good mode.” She eyed Fab with suspicion.

  “You can thank Didier,” I teased. “I guess you knew I wouldn’t be able to shake her and come by myself.” I licked my lips at the sight of the pecan roll balls.

  “You have to be kidding.” Fab picked one up and sneered at it.

  I snatched it out of her fingers, taking a bite. “More for me.”

  Phil banged her spoon on the table. “Calling this meeting to order.” There was a note of solemnity in her voice. “Nothing new on Richards. Did a good job burying his past. I’d be careful until you find out more about him,” she reported.

  “Forget about checking into Richards any further. Told my brother, and he wasn’t happy that I had his client checked out without a forewarning. What about Pamela?”

  Phil glanced over at her laptop, sitting on one side of the table. “No arrest record. Her neighbors had nothing to say; they didn’t even make the effort to make up something pleasant. ‘Don’t want to get involved’ attitude, appeared uncomfortable, and shut the door in my guy’s face. He used the excuse of checking the woman out for a high-profile job.”

  Phil paused, continuing to stare at her screen. “There was one small thing—the last boyfriend dumped her and moved out of state. He married soon after and his wife is pregnant, so I didn’t bother him.”

  “How did you get that info?” Fab asked.

  “My guy can talk a good game—schmoozed up one of her friends, ‘accidently’ ran into her and convinced her to go on a date with a stranger. He got her liquored up, and she spilled her guts, although she knew little, saying Pamela didn’t share her personal business.”

  “That’s low,” I said in disgust.

  “You won’t think so with this last tidbit. Two boyfriends ago, his house burned down. Listed as arson. The cops took her in for questioning, didn’t hold her, but showed up at her house a couple of times with more questions. I tracked down and interviewed the detective on the case, who’d retired and moved to the boonies. He said that she’s the only one still on his list of suspects. He has a couple of cases that went unsolved that he goes through every once in a while, wondering what he missed.”

  “You took advantage of an old man?” Fab looked impressed.

  Phil let loose a snort. “Hardly. He stared and smiled, saying ‘I know what you’re up to, young lady, and I’m enjoying it.’ I ditched my well-rehearsed lie about why I wanted to pick his brain and ponied up the real story. His advice for Brad…” And here Phil read off the screen: “‘She’s the kind of woman with whom, after a hot night of sex, you wake up missing your boys.’ I promised to stay in touch, keep him updated, and gave him my lawyer and Jake’s business cards.”

  “There’s no proof.” I gulped a couple of times. “Wonder if it’s enough to get my brother to listen. He already knows I don’t like her.” I should’ve known. Brad’s dating record stood at one on the normal side, the rest whack jobs.

  “He needs to be careful,” Fab said. “Break-ups happen, but arson…”

  Phil’s phone dinged. She picked it up and read the screen. “My guy has an update on Pamela – says it’s good. He’ll call when he gets some privacy.”

  “Next call is to me, please,” I told her, and she nodded. “You mentioned your business card… I’m offended I didn’t get your first lawyer card, after your parents, of course. I want a handful. I’ll pass them around to people who owe me favors and can pay your fees.”

  “I’m willing to take a few pay-by-the-week clients to get started.”

  Fab grunted, shaking her head. “That means free. Hand me some of those cards. Just know there’s a high likelihood anyone I refer is guilty. But they can pay.”

  Phil picked up a black leather briefcase off the floor, snapping the locks up. Reaching in, she handed us each a stack of cards.

  Fab’s smile turned to a glare, first at the card and then at Phil herself.

  “So this is where you tell me the best bartender ever is leaving my employ?” I asked, puzzled by Fab’s reaction.

  “It’s not finalized, but I hope it will be in the next few minutes.” Phil crossed her fingers. “Using the deck as my office isn’t professional, and I won’t be taken seriously. I’m partnering with Old Man Dale. He’s hasn’t taken on new clients in a long time—he’s mostly retired—but has agreed to mentor me. He’ll do his usual: smoking cigars, reading the local weekly, and keeping an eye out that I don’t step in it in any big way. I turned down a big-name firm, figured it wouldn’t take me long to hate it. Tarpon needs a good lawyer; one that isn’t crooked.”

  “Your new offices?” Fab tapped the card on the table.

  “I’d like to rent the lighthouse. I realize you own the building,” Phil said to Fab, “but Madison owns the land. So I’m asking both of you.”

  I thought it was a great idea and told Phil so. I was surprised when Fab didn’t join in.

  Phil ignored her silence. “If I were your lawyer, I’d suggest that you clean up the ownership issue. The court might question where it came from and how it got here.”

  It was the one thing we did fifty/fifty – sort of, anyway. Fab allowed me to have it power washed, give it a coat of whitewash, and surround it with potted tropical flowers, though she drew the line at lights. The mishmash of plant containers came from Junker’s on the other side of the driveway. “You know you’d have to tolerate people stopping for pictures. It’s been quite popular,” I reminded Phil.

  “I factored that in as good advertising.”

  “You might want to look at her business card; she’s already got the lighthouse’s address on it.”

  “You’re confident,” I said.

  “If the answer is no, I’ll get new ones today.”

  I winced. “Oww. Don’t kick me,” I said to Fab. “I don’t know if that means yes or no.”

  Phil took her case to Fab. “I’d be close by for your investigative work; you won’t have to tear around town looking for me.”

  “It’s not the worst idea I’ve heard,” Fab conceded.

  “So it’s settled.” I raised my eyebrow at Fab, who scowled at me before nodding. I smiled and changed the subject. “I need to interview a day bartender. All the others are going to school and need night shifts.”

  “Got that taken care of. I asked Doodad, and he’s interested. He said to tell you ‘no pressure.’ He pointed out that he didn’t have my C-cup assets and wouldn’t want it to affect business.”

  “We could buy him a pair of those, but it wouldn’t be the same. Not sure he’s a fit,” I said.

  “In his defense, he’s a people magnet,” Phil said. “Simpatico with the weirdos, since he’s one of them. Get him out of the mom jeans, trade them in for a pair of shorts and a tropical shirt, and the women get some eye candy. He’s also a guy’s guy, when he doesn’t go off on an ‘I’m smarter than you’ rant. Wicked smart, military background, can shoot someone between the eyes if necessary.”

  I flinched.

  Fab flashed a toothy grin.

 
; “I should check with Brad before poaching one of his employees.” I had gotten Doodad a job on the condo project when his house blew away in a hurricane, leaving him only a shed to call home.

  “Your brother…” Phil smiled. “His new look is f-ing hot.”

  Speechless, I stared at her.

  “What about the chief?” Fab asked. “I thought you were banging him.”

  I blushed, certain I must be beet red, and swore my cheeks kept getting hotter.

  “We mutually decided to be friends.” Phil refilled our glasses. “We’re geographically undesirable. Once I made the decision to stay in the Cove and not light out for Miami, it was inevitable. I can give him a recommendation in the sex department—a real gentleman. We were incompatible, though; he likes to party and have a good time all the time. I don’t mean drinking, but boating, hanging with friends, cookouts on the beach, always something. I enjoy cuddling, walks on the beach, watching a movie once in a while. I introduced him to a friend who knows anyone worth knowing in South Beach and told her to take care of him and not introduce him to any nutjobs.”

  “You… uh… like Brad…” I broke off, not sure what to say.

  “Has he shown any interest?” Fab asked.

  “He’s ogled my girls a few times but has always been excessively nice, which I know is code for not,” Phil said.

  “Take old Brad for a test drive—you know, a date,” Fab suggested. “Madeline loves to interfere in people’s love lives; she’ll do it.”

  I was careful to put my forehead on the table gently; last time I banged it, it hurt for a day. “You sure?” I raised my head.

  Phil nodded.

  “I can get the two of you together, but you have to mix the chemistry yourselves.” I rubbed my hands together. “I’ll rip a page from Mother’s ambush playbook. With her help, this will be fun. Don’t worry, it won’t be strange; my brother won’t let it be. He’s a good guy that way.”