“Anything else? Your ‘sister’ has been gone a while, and it makes my skin itch. I need to check on her.” Spoon stood up.
“I’ll text her.”
“Forget that. I’m sneaking up on her.”
“I’d better stay behind and not ruin your plan. Later, you can tell me who won at that game.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Fab backed out of the auto body shop, honking and waving to Spoon, who’d walked us out to the SUV and waited for us to drive away.
“I take you to Spoon’s, and you can’t play nice for a millisecond, pulling your gun…” I half-snorted.
“It’s not like I pulled the trigger,” Fab defended herself. She twisted through the side streets and back to the main highway, braking for a signal.
I powered down the window and stuck my head out. “Pull over,” I said over my shoulder. “That’s Miss January. I need to find out what’s going on.”
“Who let her out?” Fab pulled to the curb, the car behind us honking.
“She’s a drunk, not a ten year old.” I opened the door and jumped out.
Miss January was sharing the trolley bench with a woman I’d never seen before. Ignoring her, I zeroed in on Miss January, going to stand next to her.
“Hi, honey.” Miss January exhaled shakily, her rummy eyes focusing with difficulty.
“I stopped to give you a ride.” I put out my hand, catching hers up in mine and tugging gently.
Miss January stood shakily, then sat back down with a bounce. “Come on, Alverta.” She signaled to the other woman.
I turned my attention to the buxom woman, who was staring at me, an unlit stogie hanging from her lips. She wore a gaudy lime dress that hung like a tent over her ample form, still showing too much cleavage for a woman her age. With more gusto than necessary, she hawked spit on the concrete between her feet.
“Jany, you forget we have errands?” Alverta turned to me. “I’ll get her home okay.”
“My hair.” Miss January clutched the side of her head, and at least a quarter of her hair fell off. “Damn glue, didn’t work. Makes my scalp burn and itch.”
Fab walked up. “What’s taking so long? Where’s her hair?”
I pointed to Miss January’s lap. Her head had a few bald spots, her hair cut jaggedly, a little longer than beard stubble. A thin layer of something was stuck on the top of it, and with the flick of my nail, I confirmed that it was hard, wisps of longer hair sticking to it.
“What happened?” I asked, struggling to keep the anger out of my voice.
“Got in a fight at Custer’s last night.” Miss January ran her hand across her head, wincing. “Duked it out in the alley. Mello pushed me face down, then dragged me by the hair. When I first realized it was missing, I thought she pulled it out, but then I saw the knife in her hand; maybe it was that.” She swiped at a tear on her cheek. “Custer broke us up, came out yelling we were old hags and he’d called the sheriff. Alverta, bless her heart, got me out of there.” She stood and stumbled, clutching the pole. “Waiting on the trolley. Need to get the glue off before going home. Don’t have anything there.”
“You didn’t go home last night?” I glared at Alverta. “Where—”
“Who are you anyway?” Alverta demanded, standing up belligerently. “You’re a nosy broad.” She bumped my hip, sending me stumbling back, and looped her arm through Miss January’s. “Trolley’s coming.”
Fab delivered a quick chop to the woman’s arm, and she released her hold on Miss January.
“Miss January’s coming with us.” Fab put her arm across the woman’s shoulders and turned to Alverta. “You hit my friend again, and I’ll kick your behind up to your tonsils.”
I chuckled.
“What? I heard Crum say it.” Fab led the way back to the car.
I opened the back door, helped Miss January inside, slid in next to her, and fished my phone out of my pocket. “Do you know what kind of glue was used?”
“Superglue,” she sing-songed.
I turned away, rolling my eyes, and called Shirl; she’d know if a doctor visit was required.
When she answered, I informed her of the problem. After Shirl got a good laugh out of it, she told me it was her day off and she’d be waiting when we got to the property.
After I hung up, I asked Miss January, “Where did you sleep last night?”
“Went to a nearby park, slept on one of the benches. Someone was nice and left their newspaper behind. Alverta and I split it up and used it to stay warm. We each got our own bench.” Miss January’s head lolled to the side.
Thank goodness last night was another mild night in Florida.
“Listen carefully,” I admonished. “I’m going to make you repeat it. You need a ride, call me or Mac anytime. There will be no more sleeping under the stars. Now repeat it.”
Miss January patted my cheek. “You’re such a nice girl.” She repeated most of what I told her.
Fab zipped into the driveway and honked at Mac and Shirl, who held her doctor’s bag. When they stepped out of the way, she passed them up and came to a stop in front of Miss January’s cottage. Fab got out, opening the back door and helping Miss January out. “She’s all yours.” She handed her off to Shirl.
“Is it going to hurt?” I wrinkled my nose.
Shirl shook her head. “Alcohol and lotion should take care of it.” She whispered to Miss January and led her up the stairs to her cottage, settling her in her favorite chair outside on the landing.
“Pool or office?” Mac threw her arm out in a flourish, first in one direction, then the other, setting the bells sewn on her t-shirt jingling. Her dingy brown full skirt almost matched her ankle-top slippers with yellow floppy ears.
“Pool,” Fab answered for me. “You have refreshments ready?”
“The refrigerator by the pool is stocked,” Mac said.
“Pool? Drinks? It must be all bad news.” I led the way across the driveway.
Fab entered the gate code, and we trooped in, gathering around the shallow end and putting our feet in the water.
“Before you start,” I said to Mac. “I know you’re not Miss January’s caretaker, but she’s so easy to talk out of her foolish notions. She slept on a bench last night.”
“Miss January and that new friend of hers snuck off the property last night. I didn’t see them leave,” Mac defended herself. “I had no idea where to look, or I’d have jerked her butt back here.”
“The rest of your news, blurt it out,” Fab ordered.
“Joseph’s new lady friend had a heart attack, and he’s been on a drunk ever since.”
“My RSVP for the funeral – NO!” Fab said. Noting my incredulous expression, she added, “In case you were going to ask.”
“She’s not dead, and they weren’t doing it when it happened.” Mac scissored her fingers. “He’s only drunk because he’s overwhelmed by getting back on the woman hunt again. Confided that if she died in his bed, his wanker might not recover.”
“Can’t wait to whisper ‘wanker’ to Didier in a romantic moment, just to see his expression.” Fab laughed.
“You better not tell your boyfriend that it was my idea.” I glared at Fab, then switched to Mac. “You’ve got ‘more news’ written on your brow, which is arched awfully high.”
“She drew them on,” Fab volunteered.
I looked down, afraid to meet Mac’s eyes for fear I’d burst out laughing.
Mac thrust her chest out, and her hand shot to the water. I grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare get me wet.”
Fab inched away.
“Crum’s started a walking service.” Mac sighed. “I don’t expect it to last long.” She had a “why me?” look on her face.
“Dog walking?” I asked, confused. “Didn’t know he had any animal rapport. Although his cat seems happy.”
“That’s a little too normal for him,” Fab said. “What’s the catch?”
“He’s walking old ladies.”
&
nbsp; Fab and I looked at one another and burst out laughing. When we recovered, I said “That’s a good one.”
“Truth.” Mac held up her right hand. “Two takers so far. First one approached him, and for a crisp twenty, he paraded her around the neighborhood. All went well until Crum found out the woman in question had taken some side bets as to her ability to pull it off and made quite a bit of money. Crum had smoke coming out his ears, complaining that had he known, he would’ve demanded a cut.”
Fab laughed again.
“Just walking?” I asked.
“Never saw the woman around here before their outing; now I’ve seen her twice, leaving with her wig rumpled. She’s bragging about town that they’re in a relationship. I suspect it’s strictly sex.”
“You said there were two,” Fab reminded her.
“The second woman was a copycat scammer. Problem was Crum hit her up for a cut of the jackpot. She exploded and stomped off, but not before swinging her purse and trying to clock him in the head. He managed to jump back but fell on his backside.”
“It’s not illegal,” Fab said.
“That’s all you have to say?” I said. “You need to remind Crum that The Cottages has an air of respectability to maintain.”
They both laughed at me.
The gate rattled. Doodad stood on the other side, a good six foot five, with the widest damn shoulders, and clean-shaven; last time I saw him, he’d had a full beard.
“This a good time?” he asked.
I called out the code. He stepped back and held it open for Shirl, who’d walked up behind him.
“Step into my office.” I waved to Doodad to have a seat by the pool. I introduced everyone. “Beat it, girls.”
“You are the rudest,” Fab huffed.
“I know,” I said and winked at Doodad.
Fab organized a silent mutiny and waved for Mac and Shirl to sit with her on the other half of the steps.
Charles Wingate III, aka Doodad, was a retired sea captain and another person useful in coordinating information in exchange for money, and keeping the lowlifes away from Fab and I. I’d used my influence to get him a job with Brad and Didier.
“I left a message for my brother that I wanted to poach an employee and haven’t heard back,” I started. “It would have to be okay with him.”
“Brad’s good. I talked to him before coming over. Since the project’s almost complete, they’re downsizing the crew, first come, first go, and that would be me. Works out good.”
“Phil highly recommended you. Any experience?” I wouldn’t hold a lack against him; I knew nothing about dive bars when I bought out one of my aunt’s old friend’s. In my plus column, Jake’s was still standing and busier than ever.
“Last weekend, I hung around, watching Phil. The majority of your customers order beer; that’s easy. I got a drink book, and I’m studying up on the popular drinks, such as margaritas and martinis.” He flashed a smile.
“Good suck up. I know you own a rifle; can you use it?” Judging by the glare, the answer was yes. “There’s a Mossberg under the bar, and I’d like to think you’d adopt a ‘scare rather than shoot’ stance. If you’re a sissy and can’t handle an occasional bar fight, this isn’t the job for you.”
He crossed his arms across his chest and stared me down. I returned his stare. “I’ll have to keep my eye on you. I’ve been in a few fights, so I suppose I can break them up without getting my pretty face rearranged.”
“Just so you know, I don’t expect you to risk getting hurt in any way,” I said. “Phil’s got a few tips for restoring order. If you blow a hole in the roof, let me know so I can send out the roofer.”
“I’m pretty good with people,” Doodad said. “Heard no breasts could be an issue, but I can shake my bar towel and charm your female drinkers.”
“You have to provide your own uniform. Tropical shorts and shirt. Clean is a must. No ugly shoes that will bother my friend over there.” I pointed to Fab. “You’re also not allowed to shoot her, annoying as she can be.”
“Phil gave me the rundown on all the players and your weirdo friends.” He chuckled.
“You’ve got some nerve, calling someone weird. You used to parade about town masquerading as a Civil War general.”
“Good money on the weekends. Just so you know, I wasn’t spouting crap. History is my thing.” Doodad looked proud of himself. “And my picture has been used in a class project or two.”
I couldn’t help myself; I laughed. When I recovered, I said, “You have the perfect amount of eccentricity to fit right in. You’re hired.”
“That’s a pretty word for weirdo.”
“I’ll have to get back to you on when you start.”
“Next shift. Phil’s eager to get out to the lighthouse. Surprised me it was real; I’d have bet on a kit,” Doodad said. “Phil’s going to stick around for my first shift, make sure I don’t screw up too bad.”
“Careful,” I whispered. “It belongs to…” I shook my head in Fab’s direction. “But it’s on my property, which makes it mine.”
“Get a girl knock-down going, and I could make some good money on the side.”
“Yes, you’re going to fit in just fine,” I said.
“Does jingle bell girl over there always stare?” Doodad whispered.
“That’s code for she’s hot for you. I’m not against employee fraternization, as long as you act like adults. If it’s just a screw, be upfront and don’t call it love.”
“Thanks for the advice, Mom.”
“Wait until you meet Mother Westin; you’ll know where I get it from. She runs the gambling interest at Jake’s and the back room like her own private domain, which it basically is, because even though it was designed for fun, no one else has ever been interested. FYI: her husband is Jimmy Spoon.”
Doodad raised his eyebrows. “Good to know.” He stood and shook out his legs. “Nice to meet you.” He acknowledged the group.
Mac wiggled out from between Fab and Shirl and walked him to the gate, saying something about him needing her business card.
“If I didn’t have my Stephan, I’d go for that morsel.” Shirl licked her lips.
Fab rolled her eyes and lifted her feet out of the water.
Stephan and Shirl had been together for a while, and whatever Shirl didn’t know when they first got together, I suspected she knew everything now. Truth time probably came shortly after Help caught her ransacking his briefcase.
“Can we go now?” Fab whined.
“There is one thing.” Shirl looked around. “Ran into Joseph at the gas station, about to get arrested for using the air hose on Svetlana. The owner came out and yelled, ‘Free air is for tires, not perverts.’ Anyway, I think she has a hole and needs to be repaired.”
“Probably from the stress of him cheating on her,” I said.
“If you don’t get her fixed, he’ll end up getting arrested.”
“This isn’t Svet’s first medical emergency. Mac knows what to do,” I said. “Were you able to get the glue off Miss January’s scalp?”
“Most of it. I’ll work on it again tomorrow.” Shirl smiled sadly. “She’ll have an ugly hairstyle for a long time.”
Fab shook the gate.
“You break it, you buy a new, better one.” I stood, stepping out of the pool.
Chapter Forty
On the way home, we stopped at Bruno’s, a shotgun-style pizzeria. They served up individual pizzas for those who couldn’t agree on toppings. We took our food out to the deck and took the stairs to the seawall, sitting on a pile of rocks with a bird’s-eye view of the waves crashing below our feet.
Fab held up her plastic-stemmed glass—we’d ordered the house wine. “To… something,” she toasted.
I laughed. “That’s a crappy toast.”
I devoured my grilled shrimp pizza, and Fab did the same with her assorted fancy cheese concoction.
“We’ve got to go,” Fab said, after her phone rang. She stood and
took the trash from my hands, dumping it in a nearby bin.
She fished her phone out of the pocket of her jeans when it rang again, a tone that I didn’t recognize, and motioned for me to get a move on. I ran to catch up to her as she headed to the SUV.
“That was the security company; the alarm has gone off at the house.” Fab got behind the wheel, hitting the door locks. “The police were called. I forgot to tell them to call me first with any emergencies. Maybe we can get there ahead of the cops.”
“My name better be on the damn contact list,” I huffed. “While we’re at it, why is it that I don’t know anything about this new system, such as how it works and who’s doing the monitoring? Please reassure me that it’s a reputable company and not one of your skeevy business associates.”
She patted my shoulder. I shrugged her hand off.
“I got a little ahead of myself,” Fab said. “The inside wiring will be finished today. It’s the fence alarm that went off. If we get there fast enough, maybe we can keep the intruder out of the house.”
We didn’t have far to go. Fab drove with intensity but stuck to the speed limit.
“I planned to call a meeting,” Fab said as she drove. “I oversaw the details, kept everything simple so we wouldn’t be setting the alarm off all the time. I want to impress Didier, show him what I can do.”
“Kevin,” I groaned, pointing to the squad car that had just turned the corner from the opposite direction.
“No lights or sirens. Guess we’re not a priority.” Fab pulled into the driveway across the street, leaving room for Kevin to park wherever he wanted.
“I think those are saved for a chase or something lifesaving.”
Fab hopped out of the car and headed in Kevin’s direction before I even put my feet on the ground. Looking at the house, all seemed as we left it. No broken windows, about which I was happy.
I heard Fab tell Kevin, “I can take it from here,” before he set foot on my property. I turned, big smile on my face. Motion from the corner of my eye had me turning, and I saw Casio lumbering up the street. I refrained from yelling, “Hurry, everyone inside.”
Lottery in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 11) Page 22