Lottery in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 11)

by Deborah Brown

  “I’ve got some ideas for this dinner for the newest lovebirds.” Mother flashed me a conspiratorial smile. “Family dinner at a restaurant; Phil and Brad arrive separately, and I seat them next to one another. That way, if Brad figures out what I’m up to, he won’t make a scene. The two of them will know after one dinner if there’s a spark that they want to follow up on.”

  “If you get any resistance, tell him we’re all confirmed to attend. As soon as you get the date, let me know; I’ll need to tell Creole.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  There was a loud bang from the front of the house. “Hell-ooo,” Fab called out, announcing her return from lunch with Didier.

  I peeked around the corner of the chaise and saw her standing in the patio doorway. I raised my hand over the top of the cushion and waved.

  “Be back,” she said, and her voice faded out.

  I snapped my book closed and lay back against the pillows. I’d been for a long midday swim and now sat under the umbrella, drip-drying.

  Fab flew back outside in record time, and I heard the tinkling of ice hitting the inside of a glass. Earlier, I had brought out a tray—a large pitcher of flavored water, ice cubes, and a chilled bowl of sliced oranges. She grabbed up my glass, refilled it, and stretched out on the chaise next to me.

  “Where did you go for lunch?” I asked.

  “We stayed at the office. Didier planned a picnic, and we spread out on a blanket and ate on the floor.”

  “I’m surprised you’d sit on the floor.”

  “It was so romantic. He even placed a rose on my plate.”

  “Happy to hear all is well in lovey-land.” I clinked my glass against hers. “I hate to burst the romantic bubble, but I’m about to tell you something I contemplated not telling you.”

  “You’re keeping secrets?” Fab accused.

  “Not for long.” I patted her hand, which she jerked away. “You’re not to go off half-cocked without warning me ahead of time so I can talk you out of it.” I thrust out my little finger. “Pinkie swear.”

  “How about instead I beat the hell out of you?”

  “Don’t think I won’t land a few punches. And what would you tell Didier?”

  Her finger encircled mine and squeezed until I winced. “What already?”

  “Casio told me the chick next door, is telling people who are in search of her that she lives at this house.” I ran down the details of our short conversation.

  “I’ll go talk to her.”

  “Calm down.” I tugged on her arm to keep her seated. “I say we both confront her. Why direct people over here? Why not say she moved, or better yet, not answer the door? I’m guessing, like Casio, she knows more about her boyfriend’s murder than she’s told the police. Maybe she knows who murdered him. But if she’s involved somehow, why not leave town?”

  “I’ve wondered why she’s still living there. One thing I have noticed is that Scotch’s family hasn’t been around that I’ve seen – only Ruby. If I were a family member, I’d have tossed her to the curb.” Fab refilled her glass and topped mine off.

  “Drawing on my extensive experience with poachers and deadbeats, she probably won’t go easy; it’ll take the threat of court action.” I frowned, knowing how complicated evictions could get when the courts got involved. “Maybe I should contact Scotch’s family—I could get the number from Dickie—and find out what they know about her. And if she is causing problems, give them a few tips on how to get rid of her.”

  “I saw a car over there when I came home.” Fab looked down at her four-pieces-of-string bathing suit. “We should change.”

  “Calling on the neighbor in a bathing suit is so Floridian. Friendly. No place for a gun, but if necessary, you can trot out those butt-kicking skills you’re always bragging about.”

  “You got a plan worked up?” Fab eyed me suspiciously.

  “I’m working on the intro. You’ll need to pay attention, and when I pause, you take over the questioning. In the end, we make it clear that sending people over here would not be good for her health. Toss in a smile. A friendly threat. Don’t kick her butt unless she starts it. If it looks like I won’t get hurt, I’ll break it up.”

  Fab crossed her arms and scowled at me.

  “Or you can sit here, and I’ll take care of it myself.” I almost laughed, knowing that she’d not only come with me but lead the way.

  Fab stood and tied a cover-up around her waist, slipped into her sandals, and headed to the side path. I pulled a sheer floral top over my head, covering myself to just above the knees, and slid into flip-flops.

  We walked out to the street, looking around cautiously as we headed to the driveway next door. No one suspicious about; in fact, there was no one around at all. Fab motioned for me to stay back while she checked out the house and the one car parked in front of the garage. After a minute, she waved for me to follow her to the door.

  She raised her fist to pound, and I knocked it away. “Don’t scare her before she opens the door. Do you need me to do it?”

  Fab knocked.

  “What do you want?” came a voice from behind the door.

  “We’re your neighbors.” I waved erratically at the peephole. “I dragged my roomie over to make introductions.”

  It took a minute, but the woman finally opened the door. It was hard to guess her age, and her hardened glare made me want to step back. This was no pushover. She checked us over in one sweep, and whatever her conclusions, they didn’t show on her face.

  “Hi, we’re your neighbors. I’m Gertrude, and this is Fiona.” I pointed to Fab, who clearly didn’t approve of my name selection for her. Apparently, she’d forgotten we’d used those names in the past. “We’re here to welcome you to the neighborhood. Sorry about the… boyfriend, wasn’t it? Murder’s unsettling, don’t you think? Any suspects?”

  “I’m rather busy right now.”

  Fab pushed past her into the entry and stopped in the living room.

  “Fiona,” I called. “She likes you already.” It didn’t escape me that the woman didn’t offer up her name.

  I took advantage of her indecision—her attention fixed on Fab’s retreating back, she opened the door wider, and I scooted in. Some might consider that an invitation.

  “Stop,” she yelled.

  I turned and pasted on a friendly smile. “I didn’t catch your name.”

  “Ruby,” she sputtered.

  Her idea of busy was watching a soap opera, which she had on pause on the widescreen television, a bowl of popcorn on a table next to a recliner. The living room was dark and dingy, with threadbare drapes covering the windows and back door. The place reeked of mildew.

  “Smells in here.” Fab wrinkled her nose.

  “Doesn’t bother me,” Ruby snipped. “Now, if you don’t mind…”

  “Oh, but I do.” Fab turned her full attention on the woman. “I’d like to know why you’re babbling all over town that you don’t actually live here but next door at our house. Did you happen to mention which one of us was you? Well… to state the obvious… neither of us looks like you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Cut it,” Fab growled and stepped forward. “Several people were only too willing to sell the juicy tidbits to the police. You calling all of them liars?”

  Ruby stepped back and angled herself behind a chair.

  “I’m asking nicely.” Fab’s lips pulled into a hard line. “I could—” She cracked her knuckles. “—beat the hell out of you and then ask again.”

  “It was only one time,” Ruby whined. “A bruiser of a guy showed up looking for Scotch’s girlfriend. Like you, he pushed his way in. I didn’t get a good vibe. Thankfully, I had a couple of boxes sitting against that wall.” She pointed back to the entry. “I made up on the spot that I was new to the neighborhood and that the previous tenant had moved next door. I figured there’d be no harm, as your driveway is always full of cars and the sheriff is always the
re. Figured you were up to something illegal and the man would be scared off.”

  “This bruiser fellow accepted your explanation?” I asked.

  “I sold it,” she said.

  I wanted to smack the smirk off her face.

  “What did this man look like?” Fab demanded.

  “Tall, muscly… brown hair, not that cute.”

  That description could fit a number of men.

  “What did this man want with you and your boyfriend?” Fab asked.

  “He insinuated Scotch owed him money. He was here to collect from Scotch or me. I don’t have any money.”

  “Did he say how much was owed?” I asked, knowing the answer would be vague since she wasn’t much of a liar or a quick thinker.

  Ruby shook her head, eyes downcast. “He didn’t say exactly.”

  “Listen up, Ruby.” Fab mimicked Creole’s growly dog tone, which he saved for when he was really annoyed. “Keep your mouth shut about me and my friend here. Not a peep. Is that plain enough for you?”

  Ruby nodded again.

  “I want to hear you say that it’s perfectly clear.”

  She repeated the words, unable to hide her anger.

  “One more thing. If I have to come back here, it will be your last stupid mistake,” Fab threatened. “Anything you don’t understand?”

  “No,” Ruby mumbled.

  Fab stepped to my side and paused, her signature “let’s get out of here” look firmly in place, then continued to the door.

  “Nice to meet you, Ruby,” I said, and with one last glance around, ran down the driveway to catch up to Fab.

  “I don’t believe a word she said,” Fab sneered.

  “That makes two of us.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Mother had chosen the Crab Shack, a local restaurant and family favorite, for the family dinner. She’d tried to coordinate all of us going together in the same car, but Fab politely declined; she wanted time to break the news of the scheme to Didier. She hinted that she might blame everything on Mother, and even that she’d been sworn to secrecy, knowing that Didier would never say a word to Mother, no matter what he thought. For once, she could honestly say that, besides knowledge of it, she had nothing to do with the plan.

  Creole pulled into a parking space next to Spoon’s Mercedes. He went around, opening the passenger door and pulling me into his arms. He fisted his fingers in my hair, bringing his lips to mine. “Here are your rules for tonight. Promise you’ll follow them.”

  “Rules? What are they?” I scrunched my nose, curious about what was coming next.

  He held up one finger and then a second one. “No getting drunk. No food fights.”

  I sniffed. “We don’t throw food in public.”

  Creole laughed. “I love this family.” He pulled me to the end of the seat, wrapping my legs around his middle. Lifting me out, he kicked the door shut and set me on my feet.

  The Crab Shack sat off the main highway, looking out over the blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The restaurant had a low-key atmosphere, decorated with fake palm trees and fish mounted on walls that were strung with ropes of lights. As we walked through the doors into the lobby, Spoon waved from across the room.

  True to form, Mother had requested a window table and would’ve arrived early to make sure it happened. It was on the other side of the tiki bar area. With the beginnings of dusk, lights flickered on the water visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  There was only one person missing from the table of nine – the guest of honor. I raised my eyebrow at Mother and she nodded, letting me know she had everything under control.

  Creole and I sat at the opposite end of the table from Mother and Spoon. The server appeared at our side and took our drink order.

  Brad hurried up to the table and kissed Mother on the cheek. “Sorry I’m late.” He scanned the table and took the only empty seat, which was next to Phil.

  Once the server returned with our drinks, Spoon made a toast. “To family.”

  “You look beautiful tonight,” Mother said to Phil. “Doesn’t she?” She made eye contact with Brad, who appeared embarrassed.

  I shook my head at Mother, tempted to drag her to the lady’s room and insist she let nature take its course.

  “Did you order appetizers?” Fab asked, cutting off whatever Mother was about to say. She elbowed Didier and whispered something; he signaled for menus.

  “Bradley,” a curly haired blonde with bright-red lips cooed, appearing at the table and sticking her head over Didier’s shoulder. “Hon, I’ve missed you.”

  All eyes turned to Brad; no one said a word. He looked uncomfortable and at a loss for words.

  The woman slunk around the table in a pair of skinny jeans and red patent leather stilettos. She stopped behind his chair, leaned down, and rubbed her cheek against his. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  “Yes, Bradley, that would be nice, since no one at this table has met her before.” I sent an apologetic look at Phil.

  The blonde laughed. She was the only one at the table without a deer-in-the-headlights look. The woman exuded coolness, and my admiration at her being able to pull that off went up a notch.

  “I’m sure the help can squeeze another chair in so I can sit next to you. Or on your lap,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. She raised her arm to signal a waiter, and Brad pushed it back down.

  He shoved his chair back, gripping her elbow. “Excuse us,” he said and pushed her into the bar, stopping briefly to say something to the woman, and headed to the exit.

  “Is Brad leaving?” Mother asked, shocked. “I’m sorry,” she said to Phil. “We should scrap the original plans and… I don’t know. So sorry.”

  “Madeline…” Phil smiled. “I always have a great time when you include me. We should let this night play out on its own.”

  “Pff,” Mother said and downed the rest of her drink, staring towards the front of the restaurant.

  “Who was that woman?” Fab demanded.

  “Anyone?” I asked.

  “Her name is Reality,” Phil said. “She’s come into Jake’s a couple of times. Not sure if Reality is her birth name or one she adopted.”

  “Reality’s a handful,” Liam said. All eyes turned to him. “According to Bradley,” he added. “They went out a couple of times; never got off the ground.”

  “I suggest that when Brad gets back to the table, we pretend that scene never took place. He will appreciate it,” Spoon suggested.

  No one said a word, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the table.

  “Here he comes,” Creole said quietly. “Alone.”

  Everyone started talking at once.

  Brad slid back into his chair, saying something to Phil that had her smiling.

  Spoon signaled for the server to come take our order.

  “Are you sure I can’t get drunk?” I asked Creole.

  “I have plans for you later, and I don’t want you falling asleep.”

  “Maybe we could leave now and no one would notice…” I ran my finger along his leg.

  “Behave yourself. Don’t make me—” Creole dragged his finger down my cheek. “—drag you under the table.” He smiled, a sexy one, a calculating gleam in his eyes.

  “I’ll try.”

  At the end of the table, Spoon smiled at Mother with a lopsided grin that she returned with a quick kiss.

  * * *

  Mother clinked her glass with her fork. “Hope you left room for dessert – it’s a family tradition.”

  I sighed at my empty plate – no leftovers.

  Looking at the dessert menu, I suggested, “We should order extra for breakfast,” and winked at Didier.

  Didier frowned at me, humor in his eyes. “And miss out on my green concoction? That you aptly named.”

  I made a gagging noise.

  All eyes turned to me. “It’s not like I tried to poison him,” I said, trying not to laugh.

&nbs
p; Mother turned away, but not before I saw her lips curl up; she’d been subjected to a taste of that nauseating drink, having insisted on trying the recipe.

  In the middle of dessert, Brad asked Phil in a voice that everyone could hear, “You my date?”

  Once again, you could hear a pin drop, despite the fact that the restaurant was noisy and filled with the voices of people having a good time.

  “Kind of.” Phil smiled up at him.

  “Did you know about this in advance, or are you as surprised as me?” Brad asked, looking around the table.

  “I knew,” she confessed. “I let it slip that I thought you were cute, and that took on a life of its own. If this works out between us, I’d like to wait to have children,” she said, a teasing tone in her voice.

  Brad scowled at Mother.

  I raised my hand. “Blame me.”

  “That’s a shock,” Brad said, not showing emotion one way or the other. He leaned over and whispered in Phil’s ear.

  Fab and I exchanged a grimace, both of us knowing how tight-lipped she could be. Chances were we wouldn’t be able to shake the details out of her.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  “Is Brad speaking to you?” Fab asked grumpily, climbing behind the wheel of the SUV.

  “He called this morning and laughed off the setup.” I turned away, looking out the window.

  I didn’t tell her that he’d brought up the Pamela debacle, thanking me for interfering but saying it was to be a one-time-only event and extracting a promise from me to stop snooping. In the future, he’d decide whether he wanted a background check run on a potential girlfriend or business associate.

  “I met her at the coffee shop and suggested we take a break since she has a lot going on and needs to focus on her case with the Feds and hopefully stay out of prison. She changed into a different woman in a second, instantly full of rage. In that moment, I believed the other things you said about her; she scared the hell out of me. All I could think about was getting away from her.”

  “Watch your back for a while.”

  “Thank you for looking out for me.”