Bodies in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  “I don’t know what kind of scam you’re running, but you need to leave now. I’ll be turning your license plate number over to the cops, and they’ll deal with you,” he snapped, spitting flames. Not quite, but close.

  Fab stood and wiggled over to the man, her choice of a black dress that molded to her hips a good one. “One minute of your time, Mr. Allen.” She held up a finger. “I promise that you won’t be sorry. Then, on the off chance that you’re unhappy, you can have the pleasure of tossing me out.”

  “You’re a confident young woman.” He scanned her from head to toe. “You’ve got one minute.” He tapped his watch and continued to stand, arms across his chest.

  I stayed seated out of embarrassment, not knowing what to do. If Mr. Allen tossed Fab, he wouldn’t have to ask me twice.

  “Milton Track embezzled one million dollars from your company and set up Jimmy Jones to take the fall, and I have the proof.”

  “Have a seat and tell me what you’re talking about from the beginning.” He held out his hand and ushered her back into the living room, where he shot me a quick glance but didn’t say anything.

  Fab introduced herself as a private investigator and handed him her card, which he pocketed with barely a glance. “Jimmy was referred to me after Mr. Track confronted him about repayment and claimed that criminal charges were forthcoming. I put my team on it. It was easy to track the money and who did what, and it was all Mr. Track. He did an amateur job of setting up my client.”

  “Milton has been a loyal employee for over fifteen years.”

  “When you put your people on it, it won’t take them long to come up with the same information that I did.” Fab handed over a manila envelope that she’d slipped under her arm. “Milton knows that I’m onto him and have proof. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’s leaving town as we speak.”

  “Where did Track stash the money?” Allen opened the folder and pulled out the report, thumbing through it.

  “An account in Jimmy’s name was set up in a local bank, and there’s still fifty thousand in that account. The rest was moved to another account, and on that one, Milton used his mother’s maiden name. If there’s any attempt to move it, my man will know, and that information can be forwarded to you.”

  Mr. Allen leaned back and studied Fab. She met his stare without blinking. “You vouch for this information and that you’re not wasting my time?” He gritted his teeth, jaw rigid, as he scanned the report. He looked back to Fab, black thunder filling his expression, and shot a few questions at her.

  Fab dropped a couple of high-profile names, which had him scrutinizing her once again. He relaxed somewhat, and the two schmoozed over people they knew and places they’d hung out.

  “I want to hire you to stop Track from leaving town.” Allen stood and crossed to a side table, opening a drawer and handing Fab a business card. “My legal team will be on this today and will also speak to the DA, who’s a friend.” The two shook hands. “We’ll talk. If this turns out to be true, anything I can do for you, I owe you one.”

  Since they were both ignoring me, I made my way over to the front door. I wanted to slip out but figured that wouldn’t go unnoticed and instead waited quietly.

  Allen opened the door and turned to Fab. I slipped out and kept going. Fab and he stood on the front step and chatted. Thankfully, she’d left the car doors unlocked, and I got in. I was tempted to honk and had to laugh at the mental image of her pure shock at that.

  Finally, she came back and slid behind the wheel, backed out, and waved to Mr. Allen.

  “How do you plan to keep Milton in town? I can already tell you that your husband—remember him?—is not going to like this new job one bit.”

  “I shouldn’t have confronted Milton, but can’t undo that one. I’ll hand the job off to Xander, who can track him through his cell phone and credit cards.” Fab scooped up her phone, called Xander, and told him to immediately put an alert on Milton’s accounts.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next morning before leaving the house, I went through the meager information I’d collected on the Taco Bar fire, as though it would feed me a clue, I hadn’t ferreted out the numerous other times I’d read it over.

  Knowing that Fab planned to stay home and get her files updated, I drove to her house and laid on the horn. Satisfied that I’d made enough noise, I got out and went around to the passenger side. The front door flew open.

  “What?” she yelled, arms crossed over her chest.

  I powered down the window and got in, sticking my head out. “Hustle it up. You can’t take all day; we’ve got places to go. Chop, chop.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I laid on the horn again and didn’t let up until she poked her head back out the door.

  “Don’t make me call Mother and have her lay on the guilt.” I interpreted the door slam as meaning she’d be right out.

  I entertained myself on my phone until she stormed out and slid behind the wheel. “This better be good.”

  “If it looks like it’s going to be a snore bore, I’ll hop right in and sauce up your experience. First stop: Taco Bar. Before you get all snitty, I can’t promise there won’t be more stops, because if I do, my phone will explode with emergencies.”

  “This is where I remind you: no tacos. It’s a vacant strip of land that will take us two minutes, if that, to foot cruise.” Fab hauled out of the gate and over to the highway. “Has Doodad been able to buy any good info?”

  “It’s all quiet on the streets. If anyone had information, they’d sell it in a hot second. A few came sniffing around in an attempt to scam a few bucks, but Doodad ran them off.” He had excellent radar for BS and put up with a lot until that line was crossed, which I suspected depended more on how he felt that day than reaching his threshold for being fed up. “I can answer your next question—the background check on Travis West came back squeaky clean. Turns out he’s a lawyer; his office is in Miami.”

  Thanks to light traffic, it didn’t take long before we were cruising the neighborhood, and true to form, Fab drove slowly, checking out every property twice before parking. “There’s a woman puttering in her garden across the street. It would help if I knew what information you’re looking for.”

  “I’m thinking we wing it and let our outgoing personalities do all the work.”

  Fab laughed.

  We both got out and paused at the bumper, checking out the street. I tried to stay behind her—she could be the bossy one today—but she wasn’t having any part of it. Fab hooked her arm in mine as we headed across the street and dropped it as the woman caught our approach, giving me a slight shove in front of her. I pasted on what I thought was a friendly smile, and the woman laughed.

  I’d gotten a few words out when I realized I was sounding like a used car salesman and took a breath to change course.

  The woman sat back on her heels, an amused smile on her face. “Spit out whatever it is you want. I have a short attention span, so…” She rolled her hand.

  I officially liked her and plopped down in the dirt next to her. Fab stood off to the side, and I was surprised she hadn’t decided to check out the property. “I’ve got a few questions about the Taco Bar.”

  “You a cop or something?” I didn’t answer. “I’m surprised no one showed up sooner. Except there’s not much to tell. Boom and the trailer exploded in flames. By the time I hustled outside, the fire was sending out plumes of black smoke. Quite the show, if it weren’t so dangerous. One by one, the residents came out of their houses and congregated over there…” She pointed down the street.

  “Anyone around here have an issue with it being parked in the neighborhood? You know, thought it was an eyesore and should be hauled away?” I asked.

  The woman laughed. “There was only one neighbor that had that opinion. He went so far as to circulate a petition—said that when he presented it, it would motivate the city to evict them.”

  On what grounds? It would take m
ore than a petition, but I didn’t say anything.

  “Only a couple of people signed; the rest of us not only liked the Vickers, but ate at the Taco Bar quite often. Word spread, and I kept an eye out and didn’t answer the door. Not that I do that anyway. But it took three attempts before he got the message.”

  “Did he get enough signatures for the city to take notice?”

  She shook her head. “And he wasn’t happy.”

  “Would that be Travis West?” Fab asked.

  “He’s a dick neighbor.” The woman nodded and laughed. “He got into a dispute with the owner of the lot that borders the other side of his property over a new fence they planned to put in and demanded a survey. They already had one, but he said it was old. He didn’t want to be told that property lines don’t change.”

  “Were they able to work out the dispute?” I asked.

  “When he threatened legal action, they got the survey. I tend to mind my own business and not get caught up in any drama on this block. West, in particular, has shown himself to be unrelenting. Everyone’s got a smile for him, but no one has a nice thing to say behind his back.”

  I decided to put my cards on the table and see where that got me. “I’m asking questions on behalf of the Vickers and have no intention of telling anyone we talked.”

  “Free advice?” The woman gave me a sweeping once-over. “I’d be careful before you go door-knocking, asking questions. First, you’ll be wasting your time, as most won’t want to get involved. And there’s a couple of neighbors that can be guaranteed to hop on over to West’s doorstep and tell all before you’ve even cleared the block.” She put her tools back in a canvas gardening bag.

  I stood. “Thank you for speaking to us; you can be assured I won’t say anything.”

  She extended her hand for help up, which I provided. I grabbed the bag and handed it to her, then pulled a business card out of my pocket and put it in her hand. “If West bothers you again, give me a call. I’ll send a friend or two, both built like brick outhouses, to have a chat. Can promise you he won’t look your way after that.”

  She laughed. “If you go head-on with West, watch your back.”

  “Nice to meet you, and should we meet again and you don’t want anyone to know that we’ve met, we’re good at pretend.” Fab nodded in agreement. “We’ll follow your lead.” I waved as she rounded the side of her house, and the two of us walked back to the car.

  “So we’ve learned that West likes to get his own way and isn’t terribly friendly about it,” Fab said as she once again circled the block.

  I was disappointed that nothing we’d learned could be used as leverage against him.

  “Before I ask what’s next, I’m going to need coffee,” Fab said.

  “That sounds good.” It didn’t take her long to cut across the highway and through the drive-thru, after which, she pulled up under a tree.

  “What did you hope to accomplish?” Fab asked.

  “I wanted to figure out how to get the best price for the Vickers. It appears that regular blackmail isn’t going to work. Also ixnayed rent-a-thug, as I’m certain he’d go to the cops.”

  “Agree there.”

  “I’d like to help the Vickers not have to reduce the price and avoid having Crum and his friends involved, but I haven’t come up with any way to do both, so I’m left to pull every juvenile trick I can come up with.”

  “Meaning what?” Fab demanded.

  “I think pretending to be his new neighbor and being as annoying as possible is my best bet.” I smiled as she laughed.

  “That plan needs work.” Fab drank her coffee in record time and snapped the lid back on. “Now that I’ve had an infusion of caffeine, where to?”

  “The Cottages.”

  Fab turned out of the driveway and cut through a residential neighborhood.

  “You get an update on the Jimmy Jones case?” I asked.

  “Eerily quiet. I do know that Jimmy’s not in jail, which is a good thing.” Fab braked for a mama duck and her six babies crossing the street single file. “Jimmy was put on immediate paid leave. There’s a meeting next week, and he’s been ordered to attend.”

  “They’ve probably got their security guys checking everything out. They’ll find out that everything you handed to Mr. Allen is true,” I said.

  “I’d do the same. Let’s face it, they don’t know me.” Fab waited for the last duckling and continued. “Since I know you’re going to ask about Gunz, he’s called a couple of times and I had to talk him down from confronting anyone. Told him he couldn’t expect a quick response and to take it as a good sign that Jimmy wasn’t in jail.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Fab pulled into the driveway of The Cottages and parked in front of the office. She nodded toward the rearview mirror. “Something must be going on, since Mac and Rude rarely hang out in the barbeque area.” It was the best place to watch any action going down on the property, as long as it wasn’t in the pool area.

  I scanned the driveway, checking out the porches of every cottage, and breathed a sigh of relief that all appeared to be quiet. That could change in a hot second. “If someone jumps out of the bushes… you can handle it.”

  “Bad idea.” Fab laughed, sounding maniacal.

  We got out and crossed the driveway.

  Mac unleashed a shrill whistle. “What brings you two here? Checking up on us?”

  My attention was focused on the pink plastic pool that the two women had their feet in, filled with enough water to cover their legs to mid-calf. “What is that?” I pointed, knowing the answer but not the why.

  “Got it at a yard sale around the corner,” Rude said, proud of her find. “Had to haul it back by myself, and it smacked me in the head a couple of times. Good thing it’s not heavy.” She brushed at her grey doo, which had a mind of its own today.

  Fab poked me in the back, her way of letting me know she was laughing. The two of us sat on one of the concrete benches across from the women.

  “We have a much nicer pool around the corner.” I pointed, not that they didn’t already know.

  “It’s a busy place these days; can’t hardly catch a quiet minute unless you get up at the crack, and who does that?” Not her, Mac made it clear.

  “How was the funeral?” Fab asked Rude. “My condolences.”

  “It was quite the sendoff. We were invited on this amazing boat, which cruised out into the Gulf, the water blue and calm. Once we were away from the shore, they handed out biodegradable balls filled with old Felix’s ashes, and we got to pitch them into the water.” Rude demonstrated. “I was a bit surprised, since I’d originally heard that they’d sprinkle the ashes directly into our hands for us to disperse.” She didn’t appear happy with the change of plans. “Cootie was relieved, since he worried that he wouldn’t be able to get the ashes off his hands unless he leaned over the side of the boat and washed them off. He was afraid that, after tipping a few, he’d fall in. He can swim but doesn’t like to.”

  “You should call the funeral guys. They’re always looking for new ideas; maybe they’ll name this new option after you,” Fab said.

  I turned and gave her a Why are you being so nice? look.

  She answered with a smirky smile.

  Rude clapped her hands. “That’s a great idea. I’ll do that.”

  “Any more wildlife issues?” I asked as I gave the driveway another quick scan for anything four-legged I might have missed.

  “Got them all bunked down the road,” Mac said, her tone conveying relief. “Nix has already had a first visit with her offspring. Before you ask how it went, I wasn’t about to go there for fear she’d tell me and the conversation would never end.”

  “I asked, and she shared pictures with me,” Rude said excitedly. “The animals have fit right in and even made friends.”

  Swell. “Any more issues before I get to why I’m here?”

  Both women shook their heads, suspecting I was about to kill the joy for the
day.

  “Last count…” Mac waved her finger around. “Most of the guests are out by the pool. The regulars are sleeping off their drunk-on, which I prefer since they’re easier to keep track of.”

  “Where’s Crum?” I craned my head towards his cottage, knowing that I didn’t have a clear view. “I need to talk to the man. I’ve got a job for him.”

  “You know he’ll take it.” Rude nodded. “Unless he’s got to be fully clothed. If so, better be a short gig. He gets testy if he has to be covered for too long. Claims it makes him itchy.”

  “No worries there. He’s going to love the uniform I have in mind,” I said.

  “Fair warning…” Mac held up her hand. “I’m hoping you don’t shut down the fun when you get an eyeful of the pool action. Makes my job more difficult. Before you start complaining about my lack of rodeoing up the guests, the new offerings have been well-received, and it shows, since we’re booked until oblivion.”

  “I can see you’re overworked.”

  My sarcasm didn’t slow her down. “Free tip: pull your sunglasses down off your head—wouldn’t want you to burn your eyes.” She made a sizzling sound. “Now that you’ve been warned, you should be able to fake your enthusiasm.”

  “I’m in the process of making a cutesy calendar for guest activities,” Rude said, clearly loving her idea. “I’ll email you a copy so you can keep track. You could stop by once in a while; the guests are always asking about you and would love to hang out.”

  “That sounds like fun.” Fab smacked me in the back and traded smirks with Mac.

  Rude didn’t appear to notice that Fab answered for me.

  “Since we’re talking about social activities, there’s one coming up that I may have failed to mention,” Mac said, a sneaky smile on her face.

  “No,” I said emphatically. “You can blame everything on me since, knowing you as I do, you’ve already spread the news of this idea of yours and gotten everyone excited. I’ll be the meanie. Won’t be the first time.”