Lottery in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 11)

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Lottery in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 11) Page 26

by Deborah Brown


  “This is all about Scotch’s lottery winnings,” Fab sneered. “You’re so smart, tell us: how do you get your hands on the money now?”

  Barry spoke up. “How you gonna pay us if you don’t got the money?”

  The two men were now burning a hole through her, which she chose to ignore. Larry straightened, his attention turning to his boss, giving a reprieve to Fab and me… momentarily anyway. Barry was also distracted, gun swaying in his hand.

  Larry was the first to catch on to Ruby’s plans to scapegoat him and his friend. His face flushed with anger. Barry mumbled something to Fab, who twisted her head away; he hadn’t caught on yet that he wouldn’t live long enough to spend the money, which he wasn’t going to get anyway.

  Then he turned his attention to Ruby. “We don’t murder for free,” he reminded her.

  “Risk our asses ending up in line for the needle for nothing? I don’t think so,” Larry ranted. “You said you two was married and you’d be getting the funds real soon.”

  “Married?” Fab snorted. “You better ask for proof.”

  Ruby turned to Fab, hands on her hips, a smug smile in place. “My lawyer has the license and the rest of my paperwork. I assure you, it’s all legit.”

  “Don’t think you have any paperwork. I’m beginning to think nothing you told us was truth.” Larry crossed his arms, continuing to glare. “That’s why the dead guy broke up with you; didn’t like you trying to trick him into leashing himself to you while drunk. Guess you didn’t feed him enough alcohol.”

  “The preacher refused to marry you when Scotch said, ‘Hell no.’” Barry mimicked, slurring the words. “But then Scotch sobered up and married you anyway. Or so you said.”

  “It was an accident. I never planned to kill him,” Ruby said softly.

  “Please, share,” I said. “It’s not like dead people can talk.”

  While all eyes were on Ruby, Fab fidgeted, struggling to get her hands loose, but to no avail.

  “When you first contacted our boss, he checked you out and got wind you didn’t have a damn dime. Boy, was he pissed,” Larry said. “You convinced us your finances had changed, that you got it all figured out. Were you lyin’ to us?”

  Another question Ruby ignored. Her gun hand swung from side to side, depending on the direction she was looking. “Scotch not only wouldn’t marry me; he could barely stand to look at me.” She turned to Barry, the muzzle of her gun aimed between his eyes.

  He flinched and covered his head with his hands, as if that would help.

  “The night he died, I tried to get my name on his bank account—even brought the paperwork with me to make it easy for him. He called me greedy, and we got into a fight. He told me he never wanted to see me again, that I was lucky he didn’t call the cops. I lost it. I knew where he kept his gun; ran out to the garage, retrieved it out of the tool cabinet, hustled around to the front, rang the bell, and when he answered, I plugged him.” Her voice was soft, as though she might have felt a twinge of regret.

  My question was: was her remorse for shooting him or losing all that cash? I suspected the latter.

  “The gun was never recovered,” Fab stated.

  “Thanks to a television show I saw once, I knew I had to get rid of it and leave no trace back to me. That’s where you two came in, or the pretty one anyway.” She turned to Fab, gun now pointed in her face. “I concocted a story about Scotch banging you. The cops didn’t seem to buy it, but it got rid of the bill collectors. And why not? I didn’t know you.”

  “How did your television show end?” I asked.

  “That woman ended up in prison. But not me. I got this planned, and I’m much smarter.”

  I clenched my fists, trying not to react to her gun waving back and forth, her finger on the trigger.

  “If you’d only minded your own business,” Ruby said. “I wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be about to die. I wasn’t sure how much you knew, so I decided you were a loose end that needed tied up.” She laughed. “Tied up, get it?”

  “Put your gun down,” Larry barked. “You’re scaring the crap out of me with your wild movements; you have me thinking I need to defend myself.” His voice was heated.

  The three stopped paying attention to Fab and me as their angry disagreement heated up.

  “Good thing I had a plan to clean up loose ends myself.” Ruby had grown impatient, her gun twitching. “I’ll get rid of the damn witnesses myself and know it got done right.”

  I realized that ever since the woman announced herself, her facial expressions had periodically changed, but the tone of her voice had remained flat, as though disconnected from what was unfolding. I’d given up on a rescue; there had been plenty of time for someone to show up. I just erased that option and shoved aside my panic, trying to think of a way for Fab and me to get out in one piece.

  Fab peered around Barry’s leg, which was momentarily blocking her view, and flashed me a sad smile. “Love you,” she mouthed.

  “Me too.”

  My only option was to maneuver close to Larry and take a shot at trying to immobilize him, mimicking one of Fab’s moves: a kick to the groin. If I could disable him for even a few moments, I could run out, but that would leave Fab at their mercy, and Barry would kill her. Or if not him, then Ruby. I could go for Larry’s gun, but I didn’t like my chances of surviving that maneuver either.

  Be patient.

  A blur passed by the garden window.

  “What was that?” Barry pointed.

  The other two turned to look. Ruby turned and ran, disappearing out the French doors.

  The front door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang, and Creole roared though and flew across the kitchen, putting his body between me and Larry, grasping the hand that held the gun and taking him down to the floor.

  I watched in horror as the two men flew through the air and landed with a thud. I swore I heard the crack of Creole’s skull as it connected with the tile. The gun went off, and they both lay still.

  In a split second, Barry wrenched Fab onto her feet, using her as a shield, the barrel of his pistol to her head.

  Casio stood in the entryway, his Glock aimed at Barry. “Drop it,” he boomed.

  “One wrong move from anybody, and she’s dead, brains splattered all over this room. And you all are next,” Barry screeched hysterically.

  They were all too close, and Fab was being used as a human shield. Casio was damn fast with a gun, but not so fast that a psycho with a twitchy trigger finger couldn’t kill Fab before he could get a shot off.

  “Get out,” Barry demanded in a high-pitched voice.

  “Calm down, pal.” Without another moment’s hesitation, Casio shot Barry between the eyes. He fell backward, crumbling to the floor.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  The police, led by Kevin, burst through the door, spilling into the living room and kitchen, weapons drawn. Didier came in through the patio and whispered something to Kevin, who whistled for one of his deputies to follow as he turned and ran out the back.

  I crawled across the floor until I reached Creole, pushing Larry off him, checking for a bullet hole. Expelling a loud sigh when I didn’t find any blood, I cradled his head in my lap. Creole saved my life. Oh my god, he could have been killed saving my life!

  “Love you,” Creole said, his voice weak and muddled. “Am I going to die?” He closed his eyes.

  “You’re not dying,” I said, sternly. “I forbid it, and to make sure, I’m not going anywhere.”

  The EMTs hauled in a stretcher, and I moved out of the way to make room for them to shift Creole onto it and strap him in.

  “His vitals are stable,” the female EMT informed me. “We’re going to load him up now. Do you want to ride with him to the hospital?”

  “Yes,” I said, nervously watching as his eyes blinked open. He smiled faintly.

  Casio held out a hand, helping me off the floor. “Don’t worry about him; he’s got a hard head.”

&nbs
p; “Fab?” I asked.

  “No worries about her either; she’s got her boyfriend hanging on every moan.” He grabbed his stomach, fake-retching.

  The EMTs loaded Creole in the back of the ambulance, and Casio helped me inside, where I sat across from Creole.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll handle everything here,” Casio told me.

  “There’s plenty of food,” I said.

  He gave me a big smile. “That’s why you’re my favorite.”

  The doors slammed shut.

  * * *

  “Your tests came back fine,” I announced to Creole. He’d been checked over and moved to a private room. “But Dr. A hasn’t decided whether he’ll be keeping you overnight.”

  “Where’s that damn doctor?” Creole demanded. “I’m going home if I have to sign myself out.”

  “I’ll restrain you.” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Don’t come on to me while I’m lying in a hospital bed,” he said in an amused tone.

  I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “I’m not leaving your side.”

  “Did that f… bastard hurt you?” Creole shifted on the pillow. “My head hurts.”

  “I’m fine, thanks to you.” I smiled slightly, running my finger across his lips. “You cracked your head on the tile; I’m only surprised you didn’t chip the tile.”

  “It’s hard to keep a Baptiste down; we’re from strong stock.” He grinned. “Some have said we’re just plain stupid and wouldn’t know if we were hurt, that we don’t even know that we’re not normal. But never to our faces.”

  “I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again.” I took a deep breath to hold back my emotions, keep the tears at bay. “I love you.” I twisted my fingers in his hair, lightly touching his face.

  “I heard your voice on the phone and knew you were in trouble. It took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Thank goodness I was with Stephen; he made the phone calls rallying the troops, the cops, anyone and everyone he thought would be helpful. He drove while I continued to listen until I lost the connection. I barked directions the rest of the way; Stephen was about ready to kick my ass out of the truck. Told me to shut up.” He frowned.

  I laughed, my eyes filling with tears. “It was the only thing I knew to do. If you hadn’t shown up, we’d be dead.”

  “What the hell happened?” Creole ran his thumbs across the corners of my eyes.

  I filled him in on the details—everything that happened and what I’d observed.

  “All for money,” he snapped in disgust. “That she was never going to get her greedy hands on anyway. In too many cases, it doesn’t pay to win the lottery; the winner ends up dead at the hands of greedy relatives or acquaintances.”

  My stomach roiled at the thought of what could’ve happened.

  I saw the anxious look on his face and knew he was worried about me. I took a calming breath, holding my emotions at bay until Creole was home; then I’d unleash them.

  “Climb in.” He flipped back the sheet, scooting over to make room for me in the small bed.

  “I like your gown.” I winked and lay down by his side. “You behave yourself,” I said as he wrapped his arms around my middle.

  He tightened his hold. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I shook my head. “Just hold me.”

  The door opened after an unobtrusive knock. Didier and Fab poked their heads into the darkened room, one light in the corner illuminating the small space. Creole waved them forward.

  I sat up and climbed off the bed, going to Fab, my arms outstretched. She met me, and we hugged. “You okay?” I said against her ear.

  She nodded on my shoulder. “That was a close one.”

  Didier moved around us and went to Creole’s bedside.

  He held up one finger. “How many?”

  “Seven,” Creole deadpanned.

  “Good to see you’re back to one hundred percent.” He leaned down and gave him a one-armed hug. “Thanks for everything. Seems pitifully little, but today could’ve been a lot worse.” He paused, choking up on his last words.

  Fab and I grabbed chairs; Didier took them and manhandled them to the bedside.

  “I don’t know how you managed not to show fear,” Fab said to me.

  “I focused on staying calm and not doing anything to set the trio off,” I said.

  “How did they get the drop on you?”

  Didier put his arm across her shoulders, tightening his hold.

  “My fault. I didn’t have my Walther in reach, thinking… well, maybe I didn’t need to, not in my own backyard. Should have remembered we’ve had unwanted guests recently.” Fab leaned her head against Didier.

  “What happened to the security system?” I asked.

  “One of them cut the power.” Didier said. “The company sent a guard when they got a warning signal, but they arrived just after law enforcement.”

  “I was reading and dozed off,” Fab continued. “When I woke up, Barry was leering over the fence at me from the top of a ladder, and his friend had a Smith and Wesson trained on me. Barry jumped to the ground, produced a gun of his own, circled the chaise, and hit me on the head. I didn’t pass out cold, but damn, it hurt like the devil.” She gently rubbed the side of her head. “It took me a few to shake off the dizziness, and by then, I was tied up. Made the mistake of cursing his family, and he shoved a rag in my mouth.” She made a disgusted face.

  “Fab filled me in on what happened after you arrived,” Didier said.

  “My only thought was to keep them talking, fighting, anything until help showed up.” I looked at Fab—we both had tears in our eyes. We hugged again.

  “I don’t know how much time passed between when I called Creole and when everyone burst through the door—seemed like a year. I’d about given up.” I brushed Fab’s hair over her shoulder. “Two hugs in one day. Don’t think I’ll let you forget that.” I smiled at her, happy to be joking. “Did you see any of that coming?” I asked her.

  “Didn’t like Ruby but had no clue.”

  “Where is Ruby?” I asked. “Last I saw her, her backside was headed out the door.”

  “First thing Fab did was tip me off that Ruby was involved. I, in turn, told Kevin,” Didier informed us. “He had her in cuffs before she got inside her front door, arresting her on an attempted kidnapping charge. Once the district attorney gets the whole story, a slew of other charges will follow, including murder. She’ll never get out of jail. Kevin’s funny; his only comment was, ‘I never liked her.’”

  “Kevin’s growing on me,” I said. “Don’t you dare tell him.”

  “We should get going.” Didier stood, pushing the chairs back under the window. “Let you get some rest.”

  “I’m leaving as soon as that idiot doctor gets back here and signs the paperwork,” Creole insisted.

  Fab and Didier waved and slipped out of the room.

  “Dr. A hears that, I’m sure he’ll hustle to get you released.” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded.

  Leaning over, making certain I didn’t touch anything except his lips, I fit my mouth to his and took advantage. Sighing softly, I lay back down beside him.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Creole was discharged the following morning. Fab dropped off my SUV, and I drove us to the beach house. I’d forewarned Fab and asked her to field any calls, letting people know we’d surface in a day or two.

  “Do not move,” I ordered after parking in his driveway. I cut the engine and ran around to the passenger side. Through the windshield, I saw his lips moving and laughed, not understanding a word. He stuck out his tongue.

  Creole opened the door and stepped out before I could get there.

  “I wanted to help you.” I pouted.

  “I’m fine. I’m not an invalid, just like I told the damn doctor.”

  “That same doctor told you to take it easy.” I put my arm around his middle. “Lean on me. Maybe not too hard, or we’ll both fall
over.”

  He unlocked the door, and we passed through the kitchen and into the living room. I pointed to the couch, wiggled out of his reach, and walked to the sliding doors, pushing them completely open to let the warm beach air inside.

  I retrieved two bottled waters and walked back into his open arms. He pulled me down into his lap and held me with a firm, gentle hand and a quick kiss. I kicked off my sandals, sending them flying.

  Creole kissed me again, a whisper really. “You want to share how you’re feeling?

  I buried my face in his chest, shaking my head. I just wanted to forget.

  “I don’t want to ever let you out my sight again. I can’t rid myself of the image of you standing in the kitchen, two lunatics waving guns around. I think you’re the bravest woman, keeping them distracted until help arrived.” He put a finger under my chin, forcing my eyes back to his. “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world to be holding you in my arms right now.”

  “I was so scared,” I whispered. “Afraid for Fab, for me, that I’d never get to see you again. Distraction seemed the right course of action. Ruby bought me time, letting it slip she planned to kill those two stupes.” Tears filled my eyes. “I’m glad you shot him. Happy they’re both dead, and that they can’t come back and try a third time.” I turned into his chest, tears coursing down my cheeks. “So afraid.”

  Creole’s arms tightened around my shuddering body, holding me until my tears ceased. “I’m so happy he didn’t hurt you.” Or worse were words that hung in the air.

  “You’re my hero.”

  “You alive was all I wanted. I’m glad those two are dead. I refuse to think about life without you.” He continued to hold me, rubbing calming strokes over my back. “We’re going to stay here until I’m reassured that you’re going to be okay.”

  “What about your job?”

  “I’m milking my sick leave. To come back, I’ve got to have a doctor’s note. I worked it out with the doc that when I’m ready, he’ll swing by the house and write me a medical excuse.”

 

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