I covered my face and laughed. “How did you leave it?”
“Told her to get a paternity test when the baby’s born; that way, there wouldn’t be any doubt. Then assured her that if Gunz was the father, he’d take care of his kid. Any problems, call, hence the business card.” Fab picked up her phone. “I’m going to tell Gunz…” She called the man in question. “Toady’s following Tracy home, and he’ll be by your office to pick up the other ride. You and Tracy need to work this out, and my advice to you is to get a paternity test, so you know for sure whether you’re the father or not.”
Since Fab never put him on speaker, no telling what he was selling.
“Don’t ever involve me in this type of situation again. There are too many ‘what ifs’ about what could’ve gone wrong with a baby in the back of the car. Had I known all the facts, I’d have handled this completely differently.” Fab ended the call abruptly.
“What would you have done differently?” I asked.
“Dumped it in your lap.”
My phone dinged with a message from Xander: Couldn’t find anything on a reporter named Michael Ashton.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Creole and Didier flipped when they learned a strange man crashed our lunch and went ballistic when they found out that Xander couldn’t dig up any information on the man. They ordered us to keep a low profile and no more slacking off on checking in. Fab stomped off in a snit. I didn’t miss the wink that Didier shot Creole before he took off in hot pursuit. In the days since, I hadn’t gotten any emergency phone calls from Fab to come save her from boredom and assumed Didier had been keeping her quite busy.
Creole and I split our time between working and hanging out on the beach. I looked for sneaky ways to cheat at water bike racing, but he was pretty much onto me and wouldn’t let me get close enough to knock him off course.
Eventually, Fab and Didier came out of seclusion. Didier and Creole got together to cook up a surprise, and I’d been sent to Fab’s and admonished that neither of us better come sneaking around.
Didier arrived via the front door as I went out the back to hike down the beach. I was tempted to sit on the sand and watch the water lap the shore, but I knew Fab was waiting and would be impatient, wanting to brainstorm about what the husbands were up to.
I cut across her patio, slowing to dip my toe in the pool—warm and ready for a swim. We hadn’t done that in a while. “Knock, knock,” I yelled, not even slowing as I slipped through the open sliders and joined Fab at the kitchen island.
“Come in, make yourself at home.” Fab pointed to a stool. She poured a glass of iced tea and set it in front of me, then lifted her glass. “Cheers. I think we’ve convinced the husbands we can behave. Not sure how, but starting tomorrow, we’re on our own, since they have a meeting with the Zoning Department.”
I clinked my glass against hers. “I’ve enjoyed being under Creole’s watchful eye. I’m going to suggest that we do it more often.”
“I told Didier that they were being overly worried and we have to get back to our life and not live in fear, just keep a watchful eye out. Then reminded him of our collective skills by shooting up the room. He wasn’t amused. But I have my ways of changing the subject.”
I groaned, “No details, please,” and formed an X in front of my face. “I’m hoping our surprise includes food.”
“I know it does. I spied on Didier, and he filled a tote bag with food from the refrigerator and left it by the front door. He wasn’t happy that he had to hunt me down—I didn’t make it easy for him to find me, knowing he wouldn’t leave without kissing me.”
“What you were really doing is covering up that you were spying. If one time he just left, you wouldn’t do that again.”
“He’d never.” Fab made a shocked face.
I laughed.
Fab stared over my shoulder. Her eyes went wide, first with anger, then fear. She reached for her phone, pulling it closer.
I was afraid to turn around.
“Hello ladies.”
I had my hand over my phone. Hearing the man’s gruff voice, I pushed a button and pushed it again.
“Now, now. Too late to call anyone. Push it away, or I’ll shoot it out of your hand.”
I swiveled on my stool, unobtrusively pulling my phone closer, certain the man was talking to Fab but not wanting to take the chance of being wrong. I found myself staring down the barrel of Michael Ashton’s gun, which he had aimed in our direction as he dripped water on the floor, his clothes completely soaked and sticking to his skin.
“That includes you,” he barked, waving his gun in my direction.
Despite Xander’s ongoing efforts, he’d found nothing on the man. One thing he’d been able to verify: he wasn’t a reporter. Nothing in all of Florida carried his byline. Xander had located several Michael Ashtons, but none fit the description we’d given him.
“Listen up, girlies. Don’t either of you move, or you’ll be dead sooner rather than later.” Ashton pointed his gun at my face. “You first.”
“Who are you really?” Fab asked.
“Ted Roberts.” He stuck out his hand and waved it up and down. The man barely resembled his booking photo.
“What do you want?” Fab asked.
She sounded calmer than I was feeling. If I’d had my gun, I would have shot him, hopefully before he could get a shot off.
“Let’s see…” Roberts licked his lips as he leered at Fab. “You. I want you. And I’m going to enjoy every minute. You’ll stay alive as long as you do everything you’re told. Get my drift?” He was practically drooling. “As for her…” He trained his gun on me, making clicking noises. “She’s a dead chick. Being the nice guy I am, you can have a minute to say your goodbyes.”
“Not so fast.” Fab shifted forward on her stool. “You want me compliant, biddable to your every command and servicing your every need, you need to rethink your plan. Kill her and I’ll go to my death making sure I take you with me and you don’t enjoy a single second of the rest of your life.”
I side-eyed her in admiration, as her words matched the ferocity of his.
Roberts grinned, staring at Fab, and after a minute, he laughed.
“Can you at least tell us why?” I asked, hoping my attempt to keep him talking didn’t set him off. “Neither of us remember ever meeting you before the restaurant. Why would you want me dead? Either of us?”
Roberts gave up his post at the sliding doors, stalking through the living room and stopping at the edge of the kitchen. “Imagine my surprise when I found out there were witnesses to my dumping the bodies. Those two learned the hard way that no one puts one over on me. Greedy shits.” He practically spit his disgust. “It wasn’t bad enough that they testified against me and walked, but they stole a hundred thousand dollars. Probably figured why not, I was in jail, but they should’ve known that if there was a way to get out, I would. And here I am, and they’re not. No way were they getting away without feeling my retribution. Once I knew my release was coming, they were at the top of my kill list. I might have changed my mind—I doubt it, but maybe—but the theft of the money sealed the deal. You know what it’s like to get released from prison with five bucks in your pocket, then finding out there’s no more?”
“You’ve done well for yourself,” Fab said. “Boat. Nice car.”
“I felt bad having to kill my old friend Hank. Unfortunately, he was the only one I knew that had cash on hand and lots of it. I also knew that he would never part with a cent.” Roberts chuckled to himself and mumbled something under his breath. “Hank never gave his safety a thought, living out in the wilds of central Florida under the delusion he’d insulated himself from the crazies.” He shrugged. “Never had a clue. After I drugged the dogs, it was easy to sneak up on him. I killed him fast. I knew if I didn’t, I’d be at his mercy and there wouldn’t be any from him. No way was I going to be the dead one after all I’d been through.”
“You murdered your friend for his
money and walked off?” Fab looked aghast.
“Gave him a nice send-off. It was hard work digging the hole for him. Lucky for me, I discovered some lime in the barn. That came in handy.”
I shuddered, wishing Hank had gotten the better of this man.
“I haven’t seen a news report about his body being found. So good work, I’d say,” Roberts boasted.
“The men in the duplex?” Fab asked.
“A message for Paul and Bowe that I was coming for them. Ingenious, don’t you think? I knew they’d be sweating every day—creeping around, looking over their shoulders. Oh, I made sure they knew what happened to their friends. But I wasn’t about to hold off on taking my revenge until after someone stumbled over the bodies. Your discovering the bodies was just icing on the cake.”
Roberts’ eyes glittered with a glee that made him seem more deranged, if that was even possible. “I suppose you’re going to ask about Pierce next. Stupid ass. Who signs onto a job while drinking at Custer’s? After I snapped a couple of his fingers, he confessed to how ineptly he handled a simple request. Paid big time to get his body pitched over the wall; not happy where he landed.” He sighed. “I told the man ‘front doorstep,’ but he whined about not being able to get in. I was short on time, so… What are you gonna do? Incompetent help. But a businessman can’t do everything for himself.”
Businessman? That was a stretch. I glanced over at Fab, who winked at me. I didn’t know how to explain it, but one look at her face, no matter how impassive, and I knew she believed that she had the situation under control. I wasn’t so sure. But I forced myself to do what she wanted—stay in the moment and not get freaked out and do something stupid.
“Why would you go to the trouble of tracking us down?” Fab asked. “Aren’t you running the risk of being caught, and for what?”
“When you discovered each of my men dead? You showed up at one crime scene after another. You were a loose end that needed to be tied up.” He winked. “You play your cards right… you never know.”
I grimaced. Roberts was delusional.
“You say you want me willing, snap your fingers and I perform; does that cover it?” Fab stared at Roberts intently as he nodded. “I’ll come with you and you’ll get all those things, as long as she remains here and alive.” She cast a side glance at me.
“How stupid do you think I am? I leave her here, and eventually, it will bring the cops hot on my trail.”
It would be sooner than he thought.
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Fab said, though she wasn’t. “But you’re already on the cops’ radar, and last I heard, they’d issued an APB. Your best bet is to get away while you can. I’ll help you with that.”
True or not—which I suspected it wasn’t, since there’d been no word about the cops having a suspect—the last thing Fab should do was go anywhere with the man.
The house was eerily quiet in between the manic confessions of the man holding us at gunpoint. He was proud of his accomplishments, and his eyes glimmered as he bragged.
I gauged the distance between Roberts and myself, waiting for him to be momentarily distracted as he lusted after Fab. My plan was to hurl myself at him and hope to not get my head blown off.
“How do you plan to get me out of here without the neighbors noticing and either stopping you or calling the cops?” Fab asked.
Slim chance. But he didn’t seem to know that, which told us he hadn’t been able to access the compound before now for a look around.
“You’re full of questions.”
“The one I’m most interested in hearing the answer to is, do we have a deal?” Fab managed to stay calm and didn’t show any sign of backing down from any of his stare-downs. He’d been the one to look away every time. “You and I hit the road for some adventure and leave her behind.”
“Much as I want to make you happy.” Roberts flashed her a smarmy smile. “I only brought one piece of rope.” He pulled a length from his back pocket. “This here is to truss you up. Can’t have my prize getting away.”
“Lock her in the hall closet and barricade the door.” Fab nodded toward the hallway.
Roberts shook his head. “Fetch me a frying pan. A few good whacks, and then we’ll make our getaway.”
I flinched. He was a decent-sized fellow and “whacks” could easily leave me dead. Except he’d have to get a heck of a lot closer to me than he was now to beat my brains in, and game on. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I sucked in a breath and adopted Fab’s calm-and-cool act.
“Let me see what I’ve got.” Fab opened a cupboard and dug around, banging items together. “I don’t do the cooking,” she said over her shoulder. “Not sure what’s in here.” She raised a pan over her head as several others tumbled to the floor. “Here you go.” She stepped forward, the frying pan at her side.
“Not so fast.” Roberts laughed and turned his gun on her. “You do the honors. Knock her unconscious. If you attempt a double-cross and force me to kill you before we have a leisurely tango, you’ll watch while I slice her up a piece at a time.” He ratcheted his already creepy laugh up a notch.
Chapter Thirty-Six
I caught of glimpse of movement from behind Roberts and saw Creole and Didier slink silently across the patio, guns in hand. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from uttering a sound and kept my full attention on Roberts.
The men slid quietly through the sliders and into the living room, coming within a foot of Roberts, whose attention was focused on Fab.
Not sure who coughed, but it startled Roberts. He turned.
Shots rang out.
I hurled myself to the floor.
A thud on the floor. Another body down.
I lifted my head. Roberts was slumped on the floor, his lifeless eyes staring at me. He looked angry and surprised as a dark puddle spread beneath his head, which lay at an angle.
Fab had done the same as me and dropped to the floor.
Didier holstered his weapon and ran straight to his wife, pulling her into his arms.
Creole stepped forward and nudged Roberts with his foot, rolling him onto his side, then another nudge, leaving him face down. He turned and closed the space between us, scooping me into his arms, setting me on my feet, and wrapping me in a hard hug.
“Are you okay?” both men asked in unison.
I nodded into Creole’s chest.
Didier roared in French.
“Our friend wants to know what the heck happened,” Creole translated. “As do I.” He tightened his hold and led me out to the patio. He sank down onto one of the chairs and pulled me on his lap, faced away from Roberts. He ran his hand over my arms and legs, then cupped my chin. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Promise.” I leaned forward and brushed his lips with mine.
Didier had picked Fab up, carried her outside, and sat down opposite us. The two murmured to one another.
Creole pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Before he could make a call, I pushed his hand down. “Can’t we just throw him in the water and let the fish eat him? Use that rope he was going to use on Fab and drag him out of here?”
“That great idea has my vote,” Fab said emphatically.
“Ladies, it makes the fish sick. Not positive about that, but I heard it somewhere,” Creole told us.
“If only we had a few hungry sharks,” Didier said. “But I haven’t spotted any in the water, and no coverage on the news.”
I wrapped my arms around Creole and hugged him hard, then pushed back. “Not to be snarky, but what took you so long?”
“We both left our phones on the outside bar while we were finishing up inside.” Creole grimaced. “Good thing the alert Xander installed keeps ringing until answered.”
“At the same time I heard the phone ring, I caught sight of a boat anchored down the beach,” Didier said. “Was about to go check it out when Creole barked that he’d get us both guns.”
“We raced down the beach
and across the patio.” Creole nodded to his friend and called 911. “No ambulance needed. Send the coroner.” He opened an app that opened the front gate and locked it in place.
“The dead guy was…? And why our house?” Didier asked. “Tell me it wasn’t a disgruntled client.”
“Ted Roberts.” I nodded to Fab and laid my head on Creole’s shoulder. She was calm and collected. I felt like I was going to lose my lunch.
Fab launched into the story and didn’t skimp on the details. It shocked the guys to learn of the man’s murderous rampage, and they were both ready to explode when they heard what he’d had planned for the two of us.
“Good riddance.” Didier tightened his hold on Fab.
“Six murders? And two more, if he’d had his way. No way he would’ve kept the two of you alive long.” Creole shook his head. “If anything had happened to either of you, when I tracked him down, he wouldn’t have been sent to hell as fast as he was today.”
“Thankfully, you two arrived in time.” I smiled at him.
“You okay?” Fab asked me.
“You’re the best—staring down a gun and trying to talk him out of killing me. You slowed him from what I think was his original plan—to dispatch me as soon as he walked through the door.”
“Trust me, I had a plan for that frying pan, and it wasn’t beating you over the head. Too bad he’s dead.”
“I wanted to take aim from the patio,” Didier said, “but Creole called for caution, not wanting a bullet to hit either of you. We agreed to get closer and then shoot him. I didn’t breathe until I knew that the two of you had hit the floor of your own volition.”
Fab laid a loud kiss on Didier. “We need to get Roberts out of the house before he begins to smell.”
Bodies in Paradise Page 23