Bodies in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  The two were doing a dance, the woman attempting to skirt around Fab but being cut off at every turn. Suddenly, the woman yelped and bent down, then came back up, cradling her camera between her hands. It hadn’t survived contact with the asphalt.

  “Bitch,” she hissed.

  Fab got in her face. “You’re trespassing.”

  I gently touched the small of her back as a reminder not to do anything felonious. “She’s right; you need to take a hike before we press criminal trespass charges.” I wasn’t a hundred percent about that charge sticking, but it sounded good.

  “Dense chick didn’t react the first time, or the second, or even the third time I told her. She either wasn’t listening or she’s stupid. I bet on the latter.”

  I stepped closer to Fab. “Get in your car and leave now, or I’m calling the police.”

  The woman backed up and leaned against her car door, arms crossed. “There’s two cops here already. Call one of them. I’m filing assault charges. Before I’m done, besides buying a new camera, you’ll be writing a hefty check for emotional distress.”

  “You really are stupid. You trespass and you’re the victim? Good luck selling that story to the cops.” I turned to Fab. “Who is she?”

  “We skipped introductions. It took great self-control on my part not to shoot her, but I’m out of patience.”

  The woman threw open the driver’s door and hopped behind the wheel, hitting the locks.

  “That’s one way to get rid of her.” I nudged Fab.

  She started the car and hit the gas, leaping across the road, up and over the grass, and beelining it to the crime scene. Casio intercepted the woman as she got out her car. Not one to let a good fight pass her by, Fab ran after the car, and the threesome had a heated discussion.

  I took my phone out and called Creole. “Are you back from one of your phony meetings in nowhere?”

  He chuckled. “Would you believe that I just walked in?”

  “No,” I said, and he chuckled again. “There’s a dead body at the house, and if you want to be in the know, you better hustle your backside in this direction. The cops are here, but the coroner hasn’t made an appearance, so there’s still plenty of action to be had.”

  “What in the hell is going on?” He yelled for Didier.

  “That’s my ear. If I go deaf, don’t whine when I tell you over and over, ‘Can’t hear a word you said.’”

  “Are you done?”

  Creole didn’t sound terribly irked, so that was good. “You know I can keep it up.”

  He sighed. “We’ll be right there.”

  “Whoa. Before you hang up, heads up that we have a trespasser. A squatty blonde with a permanent snotty look affixed to her face. Thank goodness I was able to restrain Fab from beating the smack out of her, or worse.” A little added drama to the retelling never hurt anything. “Don’t be speeding; I’ve got my Glock to help me keep control. That should give you peace of mind.”

  Creole mumbled something, and then he and Didier laughed. I’d need to give him a reminder about telling me before putting me on speaker. “Do not shoot anyone,” he said and hung up.

  I turned and went to find Fab, who’d planted herself in a position to observe everything going on. “The guys are on their way,” I called out and crooked my finger for her to join me, which she ignored.

  Casio escorted blondie to her car, even opening the door. He crossed his arms and glared, conveying, “Beat it.” She lost the flirty look and wrinkled her nose. She U-turned and drove slowly out of the compound, checking out the houses as she left.

  Hopefully, he’d suggested that she not come back without an invite that she wouldn’t get.

  Fab waited for Casio to join her, and the two walked over. “That was a freelance news reporter,” she said.

  “She claimed to know about the dead guy, having gotten a tip,” Casio said. “Carol Sand is her name. Wouldn’t divulge her source. I suspect she was lying about how she got the information. She’s looking for a high-profile story to parlay into a job, since she’s not affiliated with any particular news outlet.”

  “Why didn’t you shake the information out of her?” Fab demanded.

  “I’m an ex-cop, and the current ones would not appreciate me meddling in their case. Carol claimed to be investigating the two bodies that were tossed on the dock. She got a local to do a drive-by from the water for a few bucks. Back on land, she cruised the strip of highway until she caught a break, driving by as the pool guy drove out from between the trees. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have known that the turnaround was actually a road.”

  Fab shook her head in disgust. “How did you leave it?”

  “Told her that it was an ongoing investigation and if local cops got wind of her interference, they’d arrest her. Probably not the first time she’ll get a warning. Also warned her that if she ever came back, or I heard her name again, I’d press charges and had the clout to make them stick.”

  “This is a reminder that we need to be on alert, driving in and out,” Fab warned.

  “You got any info on John Doe over there?” I asked. “How he died? How he ended up in the palm tree?”

  “You need to be patient, since the investigation just got under way,” Casio said. “Once I find out anything, I’ll keep us all updated.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I got up early and spread paperwork across one end of the island, reading the last of the reports that Xander had sent over. After yesterday, I’d be requesting more.

  More cops had converged on the compound, and it took what seemed like forever before they dislodged the body and hauled the man off. Creole and Didier had arrived home and stayed outside until the last officer left. After one of the officers questioned me, Creole told me it would be okay to go in the house. I didn’t hesitate and, on the way through, grabbed a cold drink and my laptop and headed out to the deck. Fab had stayed back with Didier, his arm hooked around her.

  Creole finally came in the house, slamming the door. “Everyone’s left. Didier and I hung out at the gate until the last vehicle went through. A couple more reporters showed up, but couldn’t get past Casio. He made certain that no one else snuck inside and warned them that if they came back without an invitation, he’d rearrange their faces.”

  “If they’re that stupid, they better hope they don’t run into Fab. Dead dude?” I grimaced.

  “Didier and I were the ones to ID him—Rick Pierce, our previous trespasser.”

  I gasped.

  “Feel bad for the man,” Creole said. “I told him when we walked him back to his car that lying to whoever hired him would be bad for his health, and if he had anywhere to go, he might want to head out. But I figured a beat-down, not murder.”

  “I was sure he gave us a phony name, but Xander ran a check on him and it was real. He had a couple of misdemeanor arrests, but they were years ago. I can have him do more checking.”

  “I’m going to do a little digging of my own, starting with that scumhole bar. Hopefully, someone will remember him and talk.”

  “You need backup?” I flexed my biceps.

  Creole’s brows went up. Clearly he wasn’t going for my offer. “The last place I want my wife hanging out is at a bar where trouble breaks out regularly.”

  “Management generally routes it out the rear exit and lets the brawlers finish it up in the alley.”

  He didn’t give me an eyeroll, but close.

  * * *

  Creole came trudging down the hall, dressed for the office. I slid off the stool and poured him a cup of coffee, setting it in front of him and leaning in for a kiss.

  “What’s on your agenda today?” I asked.

  “I’ve got a meeting later. Before that, I’m going to get with Casio and see if his contacts have any updates about Rick Pierce.”

  “Three dead bodies and no connection to any of us. That leaves a big why unanswered.”

  “I won’t stop digging until we get answers to all our questio
ns, and I know Didier and Casio feel the same.” Creole eyed my paperwork. “What are you up to? Can’t be anything I don’t know about, as that would be a violation of terms.”

  I laughed. “That sounds so… official.” He hated non-answers. “I like to think of myself as flexible and able to adjust to the demands of the day.”

  “I can tell that I’m going to need more coffee.” He grunted and crossed to the opposite counter to fill his mug.

  I picked up my phone off the top of the stack of papers, scrolled through my screen, and made a call. “Hey babes.” I tried for a husky sound, and it came out like I had something stuck in my throat. “The husband is getting ready to leave, can you come over?”

  “What are you up to?”

  “Stop by the Bakery Café and bring a box of delicacies to get me in the mood.”

  He groaned. “I know he’s listening, and you’re going to feel bad if we get into mutual body harm.”

  “I’ll be waiting,” I said, back to the husky tone that fell short of sexy.

  “On my way.” He laughed and hung up.

  Creole banged his cup on the countertop and leaned in, nose-to-nose. “You auditioning my replacement?”

  “Hmm…” I scrunched up my nose as though giving the idea some thought. “Wouldn’t be easy.” I slid off the stool, rounded the island, and kissed him. “You have a good day, dear.”

  He took out his phone and made a call. “What’s going on?” After a minute, he ended the call with, “Later.” He hauled a stool around and sat down. “Not going anywhere. I don’t want to accuse you of being up to something, but you are, and I mean to find out what it is.”

  I laughed and made a fresh pot of coffee and didn’t squawk when Creole flicked through my paperwork. “Xander does a good job.” He looked up at me. “You’re lucky I have a flexible morning or I’d be hauling you out of here to keep an eye on you.”

  “I’d enjoy the day more.”

  It wasn’t long before the front door opened and Brad entered with two large pink boxes in his hands and set them down on the island.

  “Just pretend I’m not here,” Creole said. “I hung around for the food.”

  Fab came barreling through the patio door, out of breath. “What am I missing?”

  “What are you doing?” I said back, ignoring her question.

  “I saw Brad’s car come through the gate and figured you forgot to call me,” Fab said in an irked tone, her annoyance escalating.

  There was a knock on the front door. Creole stood and headed that way.

  “Your next guest isn’t going to be happy,” Fab whispered.

  “Who?” I mouthed.

  Brad, who’d been listening, lifted a mug and held it out to Fab. “Coffee?” he asked with a grin. She shook her head. He poured himself a cup.

  “Didier’s here,” Creole announced as he came back into the kitchen, Didier two steps behind him. “Can you believe that Frenchie actually knocked and waited for someone to answer? Didn’t use a lockpick or whatever.” He glared at Brad and then turned it on Fab. “Or come barreling in the back way.”

  “All this drama is making me hungry.” I patted the empty stool next to me. “I know I started it, but I just meant to tease you a little,” I said to Creole. “And here we all are. I have an update for Brad, but we can do it later.”

  Creole grabbed a stack of dishes, silverware, and a roll of paper towels, which he tossed to Brad, who caught it and set it on the island.

  Didier made another pot of coffee.

  Everyone served themselves.

  “No one has secrets in this family,” Brad said. “You can share my personal life while we eat.”

  I winced. “That’s not how I planned for this to go.”

  “Saves me from repeating everything.” Brad sent me a reassuring smile.

  “I don’t have as much information as I’d like on Layne, but I do have a proposition. Before everyone’s hair stands on end, and you know who I mean by that—” I glanced at Creole. “—I’m in the creative stage. I assure you that Fab is coming out to the Everglades with me as backup, as you all know I need someone who knows how to drive.”

  “I’ve never said that you don’t know how; I’m just better,” Fab said with a smirk.

  “Happy we got that cleared up.” I winked at her.

  “Now, back to whatever it is you’ve got cooked up,” Brad said.

  “Layne Winters on paper is kind of a bore. No arrest record, which makes your sister happy.” I made a face at Brad.

  “Guess what? Me too.”

  “She doesn’t have much of a credit report—no long list of credit cards—and I’m thinking it’s because she pays cash. Another plus is that there’s no record of her being committed.”

  Brad locked his eyes on mine. “There must be something.”

  “Nothing exciting. I did get an address for her family. Everglades City. Hence the road trip.”

  “Before handing over Logan, I’d like to meet them,” Brad said. “Although it probably doesn’t matter whether I like them or not. Probably won’t have any other option.”

  “This is where my awesome plan comes in. Fab and I drive out to the Glades and do a meet-and-greet and check the situation out for you. That way, no weirdness. If the family is close, they must be concerned about not hearing from Layne and worried about their grandson.”

  “Or maybe they have heard from her and will be able to tell us how to get in contact,” Fab said.

  “As soon as we’re out there, I’ll call and give you a report. Then you can set up a meeting,” I said.

  “Truthfully, I’m fine with shoving it all in your lap,” Brad said. “I’m not sure what I would say to her family. What if they think I had something to do with her disappearance?”

  “We’ll disabuse them of that notion. Besides, in addition to a note in her own handwriting, you have a notarized power of attorney,” I reminded him. “Anyone else with an opinion, raise your hand.”

  “I want you to check these people out before you visit, and then plan your trip if there are no red flags,” Creole said. “You’re good at friendly and getting people to share most anything.”

  “If anyone in the family has any kind of criminal record, we’ll reconvene and decide on another plan of action,” Didier said.

  “All Xander found out so far is that the family owns a large parcel of land out in Alligator Alley. Surprisingly, like Layne, not a lot more information.”

  “I know Xander’s thorough,” Creole said, “but I’d appreciate if he’d double-check so you two aren’t walking into any surprises. Even the most thorough of background checks can’t apprise you of everything. But the more you know, the better.”

  “That’s my update,” I said, da-da-da in my tone.

  “I’ve got one on Jimmy Jones, my client, who was being set up for a crime he didn’t commit,” Fab explained for anyone who didn’t know. “The CEO turned my report over to his own investigation team, and they verified what I submitted. A couple of days ago, there was a meeting in the CEO’s office after hours. Milton Track, Jimmy’s boss, must have thought I didn’t have the goods on him and that he was in the clear because he showed and, in fact, showed up at the office every day after I’d confronted him, like he’d done nothing wrong.”

  “I’d have thought he would’ve hightailed it out of town,” I said.

  “Track was presented with the evidence and given a chance to explain, and he choked his way through a partial explanation, realized that no one believed a word, and then changed course and threw himself on their mercy.” Fab shook her head. “What he didn’t know was that two of the men seated at the table were detectives, and they hauled him off in handcuffs.”

  “And Jimmy?” I asked.

  “He was offered favorable terms for his resignation—in exchange for a signed non-disclosure agreement, he got a large severance package and a glowing reference.”

  “Why not keep him?” Brad asked.

  �
��The CEO didn’t want anyone associated with a theft on the payroll. Innocent or not, he didn’t want to risk word getting out. Maybe he thought it would encourage others? Not sure. Another interesting tidbit is that two other people in accounting were fired. They weren’t offered a sweet deal, but they also didn’t leave in cuffs.”

  “What’s next for Jimmy?” Creole asked.

  “He’s currently studying to take the CPA exam, which will get him an even better job,” Fab said. “Gunz has great connections and can get him in the door of highly sought-after firms. Jimmy’s smart enough to sell himself and seal the deal.”

  “One thing about Gunz, he does take really good care of his family,” Didier said.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Fab and I put off our trip to Everglades City by a day, taking the time to re-read the latest information that Xander had dug up and make sure there were no red flags that I might have missed. It was a perfect day—baby blue skies with barely a cloud. We got off to an early start. We took Highway One out of town and cut over to another road that cut through the Everglades over to the west coast.

  Eventually, I directed Fab to take the next exit. “Try not to fly down this road. In a mile or so, we need to be on the lookout for a turn-in,” I said. There was one other car on the two-lane highway, going in the opposite direction. Thick rows of green bushes lined each side of the road, giving no clue as to what lay on the other side, if anything.

  “Who lives out here?”

  “People who want to commune with nature and do it with some privacy.” I turned in my seat and craned my neck. “You missed the turn. Maybe. It was definitely a road, and we should check it out before looking for the next one. That’s if there’s one to find.”

  “This kind of privacy makes me wonder how this family is going to take to two strangers showing up on their doorstep. I think we should be careful not to let our guard down.” Fab waited for a car that came out of nowhere and blew around us. She barely braked before making the U-turn and managed to stay off the grassy strip.