Bodies in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  “Just hear Mac out,” Fab cooed sympathetically.

  Mac and Rude both smiled at her. Leaning slightly forward, I flashed her the stink eye.

  “I wouldn’t want your hair to permanently frizz, but it’s a done deal,” Rude said, then attempted to flatten hers down; it still wasn’t cooperating.

  “I’m certain that you’re mistaken, because Mac and I have an agreement not to jump the gun without running it past the owner first.” I turned a fierce stare on Mac.

  Thoroughly amused, Fab had a big grin on her face.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, arms across my chest. “I’ve been known to be open-minded.”

  I don’t know who snorted. Maybe all three. My eyes shot open.

  “We’ve planned a weekend welcome event.” Mac wiggled her finger between herself and Rude, then cut me off with a hand wave. “A boatload of Cruz Campion’s relatives are all landing on the same day. You remember him—the criminal lawyer you call when your butt is in the clink or about to be dragged off in cuffs?”

  I groaned.

  “Anyway, being an accommodating manager and always willing to give a hundred percent…” Mac preened.

  “You’re giving me a headache.” I rubbed my forehead, which gained me no sympathy.

  “The Campion relations—those that speak to one another—have planned a family reunion. All of them have stayed here in the past and, of course, loved it.”

  I was expecting a fist pump, but it didn’t happen.

  “Cruz actually made the call himself. He requested that I personally see to the details, knowing that I can bring the fun. You know I like to accommodate.”

  I caught Fab’s garbled noise and looked down.

  “Cruz’s not asking for a freebie. No ma’am, and I didn’t even have to strongarm him, which I wouldn’t.” Mac’s cheeks pinkened at the idea. “The fun kicks off with the relations being picked up at the airport in the short bus, which will be tricked out into a party bus.”

  “I don’t know how many are on the guest list, but is the bus big enough to accommodate them all?” I asked.

  “Don’t be a pooper.” Mac reached down, cupped water in her hands, and splashed it across her face. “It seats twenty with some creative arrangement. They’re not all arriving at the same time, but I’m sure I could shove them all in if they were. I also lined up a trailer to haul the luggage. If anyone’s real drunk, I’ll bring an air mattress, and they can lie out in the fresh air on the trailer, sober up some.”

  “That’s illegal.”

  I was ignored as Rude added excitedly, “I wish we could turn it into a double-decker. Imagine the fun!”

  “I think that’s done at the factory, not after the fact.” Imagining the guests falling off the second level into traffic had me wincing.

  “And for the all-day tour of the Keys, we’re renting a full-size bus,” Rude continued, still ignoring me. “That way, we don’t have to turn anyone from the neighborhood down.”

  That would be a shame. “How long is the Campion brood staying for?” I asked.

  “A month,” Mac said.

  “Cruz ordered you to plan events for all thirty days?” Fab asked.

  “He didn’t specify, just told me to make sure they have fun. We’ve got plenty planned, and those that don’t want field trips can stay here and sit out by the pool. Crum, who’s a favorite, has been recruited to lifeguard—in addition to his classes, which he’s ramping up—and hired a friend of his from Custer’s to share the hours.”

  “This man, whoever he is, knows that he can’t drink on the job, right?” I asked and was ignored again. “Make that very clear,” I said, loud enough to finally catch everyone’s attention.

  “Both of you are invited, and bring the husbands,” Mac said. “They’ll be added eye candy.”

  “Why don’t you call and extend the invitation?” Fab said, smirk in her tone. “While you have them on the phone, enlighten them as to all the sneaking around you’ve been doing. You know how they love that.”

  “Let’s see if we can stay on track, since I’m now asking the question for the third or fifth time.” Maybe not that many times, but all eyes were finally on me. “What is this event going to consist of?”

  “Month-long fun and games, maybe not every day but close. I’ve got activities planned on and off the beach and here on the property.” Mac smiled and nodded as she relayed her plans. “The weekend they arrive will be a special extravaganza. The driveway will be cordoned off, a guard will be stationed out at the entrance, and neighbors and any lookie folks will be told to scram, that this is a private event. Besides firing up the barbeque, there will be an open bar.”

  “What could go wrong in two days of partying?” Fab’s shook her head.

  Drunks crowded around the pool, encouraging each other to do what the heck ever. Just great.

  “If you’re going to be inviting guests, send me the names,” Mac said to Fab and me. “I’m outfitting the guard with a clipboard so he’ll look professional. I thought about a uniform, but wouldn’t want him to sweat to death.”

  “What—”

  Mac cut me off. “Before you tell me you’re busy or whatever excuse you’ll use, you’re expected to put in an appearance so I don’t have to come up with something sincere-sounding as to why you’re so unfriendly.”

  “I thought you were talking about me, but you really meant Fab.” I grinned at her.

  “I’m expecting both of you to show up,” Mac said.

  “We’re instituting a dress code for the month—bathing suits all day and night.” Rude grinned. “If they’re going on one of the road trips, all they’ll need to bring is a cover-up or a shirt. That way, there’s no problem getting into a restaurant or bar. Another option for fun is to hit the liquor store and drink on the beach out of a bag.”

  “Let’s hope you’ve got a bondsman on speed dial.” That earned me a couple of testy looks. “Also, remind the men not to forget their pants or they’ll be sitting on the curb.” Rude nodded, so one in my corner.

  “Don’t forget why you came,” Fab reminded me.

  I jumped up and adjusted my sunglasses. “Sorry to break this up, but I’m headed to the pool to talk to Crum.”

  “Do we get a heads up first?” Mac asked. “Run whatever scheme you’ve concocted by us for a vote?”

  “Nope.” I side-bumped Fab as she stood. “Let’s make this quick. I could use something cold and tasty to drink.” I waved as we cut across the driveway and rounded the corner to the pool.

  Rock music wafted over to us. The oldsters were lined up, swinging and swaying, all wearing scraps of material covering just enough to keep them from getting arrested.

  I skidded to a stop and stared, and after a minute, a slow smile formed on my lips. A tweak or two, and my plan instantly came together. I elbowed Fab. “Since my whistles are lackluster, can you unleash one and wave the professor over?”

  Fab released one that was shrill and loud. Someone shut off the music, the pool area went quiet, and all heads turned our way. She jabbed her finger at Crum and motioned him over.

  His feet slapped the concrete as he trotted over to the gate to meet us, a squinty look on his face. He stopped to adjust his bright-green sling bathing suit and, at the last second, pulled a t-shirt out of his backside and tugged it over his head. It would’ve spoiled any goodwill if I’d had to snap cover yourself up.

  “Yes, ladies?”

  “Would you mind joining us out here?” I asked. Fab unlocked the gate and held it open. “I have a proposition for you.” My motive for moving the conversation away from the guests was not wanting anyone to eavesdrop.

  “Back in a few,” Crum yelled to his groupies in and around the pool.

  They watched him walk out, and once the gate slammed shut, the music went back on and they went back to yelling over one another.

  “I have a job for you, not related to The Cottages. While I was planning it, your name came to mind as someone who could pull
it off.” I pitched my plan, wiping the suspicious look off his face and replacing it with a calculating grin.

  “What’s in it for me?” Crum asked.

  “Name it, as long as you don’t try to hold me up. If you do, that would put you on my s-list and I’d seek revenge,” I said.

  “To keep things a lot simpler, I’d just shoot you,” Fab informed him.

  The guests in the pool started yelling his name. “I’m in, and we can negotiate terms later.” He turned and hustled back to his fans.

  “You’ve lost your mind,” Fab said as we turned to leave.

  “If you have any better tricks to trot out, now would be the time to speak up.”

  We walked back to the SUV and waved to Mac and Rude, who were still hanging out by their pool and barely glanced our way, too busy kicking water all over one another.

  “Aren’t you going to…” Fab pointed to the women.

  “Nope. The only thing either woman will hear is blah, blah, blah, and they’ll be back to splashing one another before we get out of the driveway.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Fab’s phone dinged with an incoming text. I snatched it out of the cupholder, not feeling the least bit bad about being nosey. “It’s your gardener. Says there’s a problem and wants you to come home. Waiting on your input. Urgent.”

  “Text him back: ‘On the way.’” Fab made a U-turn.

  “I wonder what’s up.” I sent the text.

  “He’s never done that before, so it must be important.” Fab pulled up to the security gate, where a sedan neither of us recognized was pulled off to the side, a woman behind the wheel. We both kept an eye on her.

  The gate opened. Fab pulled in and came to a stop, giving the gate just enough room to close. Long ago, we’d made a rule that anyone coming in would wait until the gate closed to discourage intruders. The sedan roared up behind us and honked. When Fab didn’t move, the woman continued to lay on the horn.

  When the gate was more than halfway closed, the woman jumped out of her car and made a run for it. Too late.

  “Wonder what that was about?” Fab mused. “No time to find out now.”

  “I’m sending you a text to remind you to call Tank, since he’s your friend.” I smile shiftily. “Find out if we can shoot intruders.”

  “He’s your friend too. Name one time he’s refused to take your call.” Fab sniffed. “As for wannabe uninvited guests, the standard is that we have to be in fear for our lives, not brushing up on our shooting skills.”

  “I’m thinking we should have a sign.” I tapped my cheek. “‘Trespassers will be blown to bits.’ Or we could get a dog and not feed it; let it hunt for its own chow.”

  “When Casio approached me about getting a dog, I waffled. Now I think it should be allowed to prowl around and go anywhere it wants.”

  “Thanks for sharing when the dog subject first came up,” I said in a faux snit. “I guess my input wasn’t needed.”

  “What is it Mac says? Calm down before your hair frizzes.”

  I patted my hair and laughed despite not wanting to.

  Fab pulled up to her house and parked. The head gardener dude and his guys—all brothers, cousins, or some such… family members anyway—were leaning against the side of a truck with a trailer attached that was chock-full of work equipment. They were loaded up and ready to go, except they’d never finished this early before—ever. It took his crew most of the day to keep the compound looking green and weed-free.

  I was wracking my brain trying to remember his name; I didn’t ask Fab, as chances were fifty-fifty or better that, even if she did remember, she’d prank me with the wrong name. We got out, and I pasted on a friendly smile, one that had worked for me in the past.

  “What’s going on?” Fab asked and looked around.

  He motioned her to follow him to the street side of the truck. He stopped suddenly and pointed across the compound to the wall nearest Fab’s house. “The reason I called you first…” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want to be involved with the cops and hope you won’t involve me.” He gave her a squint that told her he expected that favor.

  I followed his finger and couldn’t figure out what he wanted us to see at first, then gasped. A man was nestled face down between the fronds of one of the small palm trees, bending the branches down. He wasn’t moving. Bad sign. I suspected the news wouldn’t be good.

  “I don’t want to be involved either,” Fab snapped and took out her phone. Pictures from this distance wouldn’t be the best.

  The two engaged in a stare-down, communicating some shifty speak that I didn’t understand. Finally, he asked, “We’re good?” He didn’t wait for an answer but beat it behind the wheel of his truck. The rest of his bros didn’t need to be told and vaulted over the sides of the trailer. One got in the passenger seat.

  I stepped up to the open window before he could roar off, and judging by the way he revved the engine, he was planning on doing just that. “There’s some chick at the gate. Don’t let her or anyone else in. Ever.”

  Both men nodded, and they took off.

  “Hey, sweetums,” I said to Fab, almost laughing at her raised brows. “Yes, you. I’m telling you now that we’re not getting involved either.” I edged my way toward my house. I’d fetch the SUV later.

  She pointed at me. “Don’t you dare…”

  That trick got me to pause, at least, but wouldn’t work for long.

  “As soon as you report dead dude to 911, we’re in it,” Fab snapped.

  “Nice try. I’m not the owner of this swanky piece of property, which just dropped in value thanks to whoever that is.” I waved in his general direction, not wanting to take a second look, and took another step backward. “Do you want to hear my idea for foisting or not?”

  “Oh, for Pete’s—”

  I cut her off. “Now, now. That sounds mean.”

  “What’s your well-thought-out plan?” She sounded halfway amiable, except for the fierce glare, stuck-out chest, and hands clenched at her sides.

  “When we came in, I noticed Casio’s truck parked in his driveway. I volunteer to go roust him out and delegate.” I didn’t wait for an answer, and instead turned and ran down the road. Fab’s screech was clearly audible as I veered into his driveway, bounded up the steps, and pounded on the door. Just in case he hadn’t heard my first attempt, I kicked the bottom of the door. I was about to play on the doorbell when the door flew open.

  Casio’s enormous frame filled the doorway, smoke coming out his ears. If he had hair, it would be standing on end. “Whatever it is, I don’t want to know. If you don’t mind…” He had the door half-closed.

  I stuck my leg inside and screamed out of frustration, not pain. “Your son just walked in the gate, and I was worried something was wrong, knowing it’s a school day.” I’d apologize and feel bad later. It would be easier to pawn the dead-body situation off on him once he was out of the house.

  “What the…” He threw the door open—surprisingly it didn’t hit the wall. He didn’t bother with shoes, cleared the three steps in a leap, and ran down the driveway. He skidded to a stop and scanned the street, then hopped from one foot to the other as the cement started to burn the bottoms of his feet. “Where?” he bellowed.

  I pointed in the opposite direction, quite certain he wouldn’t see the body without closer scrutiny. “Sorry, I wasn’t completely upfront.” Okay, not at all. “The reality is that you’re better equipped to handle a dead body than either Fab or myself.”

  Casio continued to scan the corner of the property, and once he spotted the body, he moved forward a couple steps, stopped, and turned tail, running back to his house. He reappeared wearing a pair of rundown tennis shoes half on his feet, phone in hand. He came up beside me and snorted. “How long has it been there?”

  The better question was, how did it get there? Fab had moved closer and snapped more pictures.

  “No clue.” I shook my head. “Fab would be the one to ask
; she could give her expert opinion.”

  I waved like a lunatic at Fab, who tromped through the grass back towards us. I hung back but could still hear their conversation.

  “Another palm tree bites the dust,” Fab said, and he responded with a silent, So? “Not quite sure how his body landed in that position. The gunshot wound makes it certain he didn’t fall off the wall.”

  “You need to stand back; no more messing around in a crime scene,” Casio admonished her with a grin.

  “I’m thinking, since you’re the hotshot here, you can make the 911 call,” Fab shot back.

  He nodded and skirted around the area, getting a closer look before approaching the body and getting on his phone.

  “I’m going to go hide in my house,” I whispered to Fab and turned away. She grabbed my shirt and wrenched me to a stop.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” she growled. “The cops and the dead-people unit are going to converge, and I’m not handling it by myself.”

  “That would be the coroner.”

  I ignored her eyeroll, and she ignored my you should know that tone.

  “Our story is exactly what I told Casio. If you didn’t get it all—”

  I waved her off. “I got it. I’m thinking we don’t have any reason to hedge on any facts. Unless that’s your handiwork and you dumped him earlier in the hopes that the gardener would take care of it.”

  Casio’s approach cut off her response. “What’s on the other side of the wall?”

  “It’s an empty lot covered in trees and weeds. Not sure who owns it, as I never checked,” Fab told him.

  Fab’s phone alerted us that the cops had arrived, and she opened the gate. Two cars drove in. Casio waved them down, and they parked in front of my house.

  I moved out of the street, standing at the end of Fab’s driveway. She joined me, and I nudged her and tossed my head back towards the front gate. The woman who’d been waiting outside in the sedan had followed the cops inside. She parked away from the houses, farther down the road, got out, camera in hand, and started frantically snapping pictures. Before I could stop Fab, she took off at a run and came to an abrupt stop in front of the woman. They attempted to shriek over one another, Fab pointing to the gate. I hotfooted it after Fab before fists started to fly. The woman didn’t stand a chance.