I licked my lips. “Be on standby in case we need a refill.”
Kelpie grinned. “Gotcha, Bossaroo.” She closed the door behind her.
I tipped my glass at Fab. “To being alive.” Over the rim, I winked at Help. “What brings you out of your hut? Murder? Another felony?”
“I’m socializing with my two friends here.” Help squinted back.
“Good one.” I downed my drink, doing my best not to lick my lips again, and reached for the pitcher. One step ahead of me, Creole already had it in hand and refilled my glass.
Fab downed hers and held her glass out to Didier, who filled it and added a spear of olives.
“My patience is running thin here,” Creole announced. “I’d like to hear how it was that when I left this morning, you were on the couch with your feet up, and here you are, hours later, looking like you went one-on-one with a wild animal and it was a draw. Same outfit, although it was cleaner then.”
“Can I have a two-minute reprieve? And I’ll need to use your phone.”
He fished his phone out of his pocket, putting it in my open hand.
“Let me make this call regarding my SUV. The window of opportunity for getting it back is closing, if it hasn’t slammed shut already.” I scrolled through his phone, found the number I was looking for, and hit connect. “This is your favorite step-daughter,” I said when Spoon answered.
“You okay?” I heard him say away from the phone, “It’s Madison.” Mother must be standing nearby. She’d married her boy toy—Jimmy Spoon, younger by ten years—and was living happily ever after.
“I got carjacked.”
“You and Fab okay?” Said with a note of tenderness that one didn’t often hear out of the big man unless it was directed at Mother.
“We’re good.” I flashed Fab a small smile. “It’s a real possibility that my SUV is in the felonious hands of a cretin by the name of Deuce.” I saw a flash of recognition on Help’s face. So he knew the man, or of him anyway. “I want it back, and I’m willing to pay the ransom.”
Spoon whistled. “I’ll get on it. You’ll be needing an interim ride, so stop by the shop in the morning and I’ll hook you up.”
“Keep in mind that it has to be large enough for me to haul my posse around.” That got a laugh. “Mostly Fab, since I highly doubt she’ll relinquish her role as driver.”
We hung up. I gulped a breath of air and exhaled slowly to steady my nerves. “You and Deuce old friends?” I asked Help.
“Never heard of him.” He shrugged.
“I’d like to hear what the hell happened.” Didier said, out of patience. “And now.”
“I second that,” Creole fired back.
“You want to flip to see who goes first?” I asked Fab.
“You go ahead while I continue to dream about being up to my neck in a bubble bath.”
“We took a wrong turn and stopped to ask for directions.” That should’ve been a red flag, but not one of the men said anything. “That’s when a woman stepped in front of my SUV, aimed her shotgun, and pulled the trigger. Blew out the windshield of the Hummer.”
The men shared shocked expressions.
“Fab grabbed my arm and dragged me into the brush. Thank goodness for best friends.” I locked eyes with Fab. “We crawled along.” I held up scratched hands. “Slogged through filthy water. A sweet old man gave us a boat ride. I’m repaying the favor, big time.” My voice choked.
Creole pulled me into his arms and kissed me hard.
Didier smooshed Fab’s hands to his lips, whispering in her ear, and pulled her to his side.
The door opened on a knock, and Kelpie stuck her head out. “Refills?”
Help pointed his finger around the table. “Three beers.”
Kelpie turned and waved in sign language across the bar.
“Please tell the kitchen that I’ll need a sampler times two. To go.” I raised an eyebrow at Fab, and she nodded. “What about you?” I asked Help.
“He’s staying the night at our house,” Didier said.
That shocked Fab.
“Not in my bedroom,” I said. When the couple took occupancy of the house, Fab had given me and Creole a room, all ready for us to take them up on their offer to move in.
“We got a guest bedroom ready. Just in time,” Didier said.
The new guy handed Kelpie a tray and disappeared, and she served the guys. “I’ll get the order taken care of and make sure there’s plenty of food.”
A customer pushed past her and stormed out onto the deck. “Why can’t we sit out here? There’s plenty of room. You people can’t hog it all to yourselves.”
“I’m the owner and can do what I want,” I snapped back crabbily.
“Oh hey.” She flashed a two-handed dance wave. “So cool about the shootout the other night. Sorry I missed it.”
Kelpie pointed at Fab, wide-eyed. I wanted to ask Fab if she could feel the tire marks from the bus that just rolled over her.
Didier grinned and tugged her harder to his side.
“That’s too bad.” I smiled weakly, noting my sarcasm was lost on the woman. “Maybe next time.”
Kelpie grabbed the woman by the arm and hauled her out the door. “This is a business meeting,” she explained, and with a glance back over her shoulder as she followed the woman, she said, “No one died,” and closed the door.
“I can explain,” Fab said.
“No doubt. It will be another topic on the agenda of the meeting you’re required to attend.”
“I’d like to be there.” Didier continued to grin.
“What did you do today?” Fab asked. “You three hang out together all day?”
“Actually, Creole and Didier were doing me a favor,” Help answered. “I bought some property, and they came out to inspect it and give me their opinion on the options I’d have for development.”
“Where is it located?” I asked.
“North of town,” Help said vaguely.
“Card Sound?” If I hadn’t been staring at him, I’d have missed the flicker of surprise.
“We agreed not to discuss the details until Help decides how he wants to proceed,” Creole said.
“You never did say how you two ended up at Jake’s,” Help said, effectively changing the subject.
“We walked, then availed ourselves of the opportunity to boost a couple of bicycles and rode the rest of the way.” At his look of surprise, I added, “They’re cheap, so it’s only a misdemeanor. The children left them lying in the street. Good lesson to pick up your stuff.” In truth, they were a find on trash day or a markdown from a garage sale, something last-minute that hadn’t sold that day.
“So no one got hurt?” Creole asked with a shake of his head.
“Most people would think that was a true story,” Didier admonished.
“We don’t care about most people,” I said to Fab with a flick of my mop of red hair, which was bushed out from the humidity and full of enough sweat that it was pasted to my neck. I pulled out a strand and sniffed, making a face.
Fab mimicked me and stared at her long brown hair in disgust.
“I realize that we’ve been interrupted a few times, but we have yet to get all the details about what happened today,” Creole snapped. “We’ll save it for when we get home.” He pulled me to my feet.
“On our way through the kitchen, we should grab garbage bags to spread across the seats,” I said.
“Let’s cut back through the poker room.” Fab nodded at the doors. “Lessens the chance that we’ll be tomorrow’s hot gossip.”
Creole and I stopped in the kitchen while the rest went out to the parking lot. He helped pack the orders after I asked him to make sure that they were bagged separately. I found the spare bags and pulled off several, then went outside, handing some to Didier.
I tugged Fab out of earshot of the two men. “We’re not coming over. After a long, disinfecting shower, I’m going to give Creole the details, and I’ll be putting the bla
me on him and Didier for sneaking around. I won’t even have to fake a few tears because I’m ready for a good cry.”
“Good one.” Fab hugged me. “Thanks for that. I knew I wouldn’t get away with trying to put off that conversation until morning.”
Chapter Five
I’d meant to fill Creole in on the details of our adventurous day but didn’t factor in tequila on an empty stomach and the added effect of the longest shower under the jets I’d ever taken, washing my hair twice in case any critters made it past my searching fingers. I’d gotten out and pulled one of Creole’s t-shirts over my head because it smelled like him and comforted me, then laid down on the bed with the intention of only closing my eyes for a second.
When I opened them again, the sun was streaming through the windows. I looked around, disoriented at first, then breathed a sigh of relief at being home in my own bed.
“Good morning,” Creole whispered in my ear. “I’ll be right back with coffee.”
“You’re the best husband.”
He rumbled out a chuckle.
I watched as he disappeared into the kitchen, our two spoiled housecats, Jazz and Snow, jumping down from the bed and filing out behind him. It was long past their breakfast time, as they like to be served at dawn and were kept waiting for a more decent hour most mornings.
Creole had remodeled the house into one wide-open space, and the only thing separating the bedroom from the living space was a screen. I got up and went into the bathroom, splashing water on my face, then looking in the mirror and wincing at my sunburned face. I took out a special lotion that I kept on hand and dabbed it on. Getting back in bed, I arranged the pillows and leaned back against the headboard, ready to drink down a whole pot of coffee.
Creole came back, handed me my mug, and crawled in beside me.
I savored the first sip and smiled at him over the rim. “I know you’ve been waiting; probably somewhat impatiently.”
He flipped over one of my hands, running his fingertip lightly over the scratches. “I want to know who to beat the hell out of besides this Deuce character.”
“He’s just some guy making a buck off his illegal trade. But I’m happy I didn’t have to go face to face with him.”
“I’d like to hear what the heck happened and prefer that you not skimp on the details. I made some calls, and imagine my surprise when I found out no police reports were filed.”
“Yesterday, I got a frantic phone call from my best friend, who was worried by her husband’s unusual, evasive behavior and said she was waiting out front with the engine running…” I grimaced. “I should have told her emphatically no and to deal with her own problems. There is a point in this drama where I’d choose to change tack and possibly alter events…maybe for the worse. One never knows.” I proceeded to relay the events of the previous morning up to where we got out of the SUV to talk to the old woman. “If I had a do-over, hindsight and all, I would’ve insisted that Fab take her phone—surely we wouldn’t have both lost them. And I’d have moved my Glock to my front waistband, for whatever good that would’ve done. Had we had time to draw our weapons, I have no doubt the woman would’ve enjoyed a shootout.”
“I’d prefer that you avoid all possible shoot-out situations. Granted there was no way to anticipate her reaction, but in the future, when you need directions or help of any kind, choose a more public venue.” Creole took my mug out of my hands, set it on the bedside table, and wrapped his arms around me, kissing my head. “Smells better than last night.”
I giggled. “There’s more.” I continued with the rest of the details, including meeting Cootie, without whom we’d still be stuck in the weeds, or worse.
“‘Cootie’…sounds like someone you’d befriend.”
“It does, doesn’t it? I’ve never had a moonshine connection before.”
“Heard it’s worse than rotgut tequila, and years back, I barfed for days on a bottle of that swill. I ate the worm,” he boasted.
I flinched. “There’s a tradition I’m happy to say I passed on.”
“Cootie doesn’t know it yet, but he’s made some good friends. Didier and I may be able to upgrade his off-grid living standards. He helped you; we’ll return the favor.”
“I’m going to get Spoon to send someone out there to get his truck running. It’s crazy to live out there without transportation, and his boat doesn’t fit the bill.”
“Do you remember the name of the bartender at that hole?”
“You are not going to go break his face.” I kissed his knuckles. “But it’s hot that you’d think of doing it.” I resumed my storytelling, and when I got to the part about the bicycles belonging to Crum, he burst out laughing.
“He didn’t steal them off some unsuspecting kid, did he?”
“Nooo… He’s not a thief in the criminal sense. He digs in the trash, frequents garage sales at closing, offers next to nothing on things he thinks he can flip for a few bucks, and charges outrageous prices. It’s a big game to him, and he does pretty well.”
“You and Fab are amazing, not that I didn’t already know that.” Creole hugged me. “Let’s face it, you two, in some pretty adverse conditions, kept moving until you got back to civilization.”
“It’s only because I focused on putting one foot in front of the other, not in some croc’s mouth, and not letting Fab out of my sight.”
Creole leaned his head back and was quiet for a long moment. “Wife, swear that what I’m about to tell you stays between us.” He held out his pinkie. “No one, and that includes Fab. You’re going to have to keep this secret from her. Didier might have told her already, but we haven’t talked, so I don’t know that for a fact.”
I linked my finger with his and leaned in to seal my secrecy with a kiss.
“Help will have to understand,” Creole said. “I’m not going to lie to you by omission.”
“If this has to do with an ongoing police investigation, I understand you not being able to tell me.”
“Of sorts, but not in the way you think. Help bought a parcel of land years back for when he retired. That day is approaching, and so, to jumpstart his new life, he packed his old Winnebago and parked it out in Card Sound to begin an amenity-free life.”
I scrunched up my nose.
“In his pursuit of the lazy good life, he discovered three bodies. He called it in to his boss, who sent out an investigation team. Everything was done by the book, no shortcuts, and they came to the conclusion that the individuals, all men, were murdered somewhere else and dumped on his land.”
“There’s a multiple-murderer running free amongst us?” I blew out a breath. “You’re not on the force anymore, so why get you involved? Can’t your involvement get you in trouble? And Didier?”
“Didier’s involvement was a fluke. When Help called, wanting to talk, he made it sound benign and not about multiple felonies, so when Didier offered to ride along, I took him up on the offer.”
“Why not just tell Fab?”
“You’ll have to ask him. He should have known that Fab would do whatever it took to solve the mystery, even if there was none. Yesterday could’ve ended up much worse, and all because of some sort of game-playing between the two of them.” Creole shook his head in disgust. “There’s more.”
I grimaced.
“The Feds are now involved, and they’ve set their sights on Help as one of their prime suspects. Hence him calling me and the reason he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone. He wants help proving that he’s not a murderer.”
“I don’t suppose he has a suspect list?” I asked. “Let me guess: he didn’t know any of the victims?”
“Nope.”
“If you want backgrounds run, you can use Xander,” I offered.
“I don’t want you involved,” Creole said adamantly.
“Same goes for you.” I shook my finger at him, and he bit the tip. “I suggest Help keep a diary, or some way of keeping a record of where he is at any given moment, in case
another body turns up and he needs an alibi.”
“He’s afraid if that happens, he’ll get locked up just to see if the carnage stops.”
“That’s a dumb idea. If whoever is doing it gets wind, which is a certainty since such salacious news will make headlines, they’ll find another dumping ground.” I winced at the thought of yesterday’s outing and how many more ways the day could’ve gone wrong. “We must’ve been close to Help’s property yesterday. You need to give him a heads up about his neighbor, Addy, and that he needs to steer clear. He’s got enough trouble.”
“You also need to be careful. Be aware of your surroundings until the murderer is behind bars.”
“No need to worry about me going back out to Card Sound anytime ever. In fact, I plan to send Toady to make contact with Cootie to make sure he’s okay.”
“I’d like to think that you’re going to kick back and stay home today, regardless of whatever emergency your friend comes up with. You’re going to be feeling your aches and pains.”
“My plan for the day is to go to Spoon’s and pick up a car, stop at the phone store, then take your advice—come home, and kick my feet up.” I smiled at him. “I may curl up under the umbrella on the patio and catch up on paperwork.”
“In the meantime, I’ve got some time before I have to leave.” He pulled me on top of him and kissed me.
Chapter Six
Before Creole left the house, I called Fab on Didier’s phone. I’d have sent a text, but didn’t want her saying she didn’t see it.
“Come over and get me. I need a ride to Spoon’s,” I said in a whiney tone, really laying it on. “If not… I’ll have to hike to the highway and walk because I’ve imposed a rule for myself—no more hitchhiking. It’s hot, and I’ll get sweaty.”
“Are you finished?” Fab asked in exasperation. “You sound like a six-year-old.”
Creole stood across from me at the island, grinning at my antics.
“Is that a yes?”
“One hour.”
* * *
As usual, the woman was early, and I was ready for her. I grabbed my bag and raced out of the house to knock on the driver’s side window of her Porsche. Fab cracked it open. “Can I drive?”
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