We were on the Overseas just north of Little Blackwater Sound, a beautiful stretch of the highway with glimpses of water on both sides, when Fab shrieked, “You’re not going to believe this,” one eye on the rearview mirror.
“What?” I flipped down the visor, not sure what I was supposed to be looking for. “Hint, please.”
“Coming up beside us…that sedan trying to shake somebody off the hood.”
A car swerving back and forth in its lane caught my attention. Sure enough, there was someone stretched across the hood, hanging onto… I’d guess the groove where the windshield wipers fit. Fab braked suddenly and swerved to get out of the way, two cars from behind us driving erratically around us with horns blasting.
The driver of the sedan edged closer to our driver’s side door and jerked hard on the wheel. The partially clad man went airborne and rolled across the hood of the Escalade, then across the road. I powered down the window and hung my head out as he plummeted down a short embankment and out of sight.
“You need to pull over,” I said.
“But I didn’t…” Fab said, as freaked out as I’d ever seen her.
“I know, but you need to anyway. We don’t want anyone pointing fingers, saying anything different,” I reasoned.
It was several miles to the next turn lane before we could double back, then double back again. The only way we were able to identify the exact location was because two other cars had stopped and three people had climbed down the embankment and were scanning the water. A chain-link fence with a small section missing ran along the water. Fab parked behind the rest of the cars and stayed in the car.
“If that guy wasn’t dead when he hit the water, he probably drowned.” I hung my head out the window.
“I want to go home,” Fab whined.
“You might be the only witness. You can at least give the cops a description of the other car.” The woman knew makes and models at a glance.
To my surprise, Fab wanted no part of getting out and snapping pictures. We waited in silence until the cops showed up, eyes pasted to the spot, hoping the man would come crawling out of the water.
Fab answered the officer’s questions directly and gave them a description of the car and the missing man. Her description of the driver was sketchy, but other than that, the only thing she wasn’t able to supply was the license plate number.
My only contribution was, “I saw a body fly across the hood, land in the road, then disappear out of sight.”
The cops took our contact information. Soon we’d be in the notepad of every cop in South Florida.
As soon as we were back on the road, my phone rang. I answered but didn’t say anything.
“That’s not funny,” Creole grouched.
“Hi honey.”
“You’re not home, and do you know how I know that?”
“Hmm…you’re there and I’m not.”
“Exactly. I’m afraid to ask why not.”
“We were involved in a traffic… hmm… incident.” I hemmed and hawed, still finding it hard to believe what we’d witnessed.
“You okay?”
We’re fine.” I looked at Fab, who seemed less freaked out now. “Can’t say as much for the other guy.” I gave him a bare-bones version of events.
“I’ll see what I can find out.” He let out a long sigh.
“Fab and I are placing an order for a pitcher of margaritas, one of martinis, and tacos. We originally decided the location should be the beach at Fab’s, but I’m thinking we should loll about on her new living room furniture, which would be more comfortable and less hot, thanks to the air conditioning.”
“How long do I have to make this happen?” Creole asked, not the least bit annoyed by the specific request.
“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, depending. Assuming the rest of the ride is uneventful.”
Chapter Seventeen
I opened my eyes to light coming through the window, signaling morning. It was a grey and overcast day, with rain predicted, but that didn’t mean we’d get any. As it turned out, neither Fab nor I had been in the mood to drink very much the previous night. After we ate very little and related the events of the day once again, I asked Creole to take me home. I reached out and patted the empty space next to me, disappointed to find I was by myself in the big bed. Rolling over, I spotted Creole sitting at the island and his eyes locked on mine.
He held up his mug. “Coming right up.” He brought over two mugs and crawled onto the bed beside me.
I lifted my mug and toasted him. The scent floating in the air had me wishing I could gulp it down.
“Got an update for you,” Creole said. “The fellow from yesterday was found, deceased, caught in a fishing net. They also arrested the driver of the car. Apparently, after tipping a few back at a local bar, the two men got into a fight that spilled out into the parking lot. Instead of walking away, the one guy thought it would be a great idea to jump on the hood and was apparently unwilling to let go. It didn’t occur to the driver to pull over or, better yet, not leave the parking lot.”
I sighed, having already figured that the situation wouldn’t end with both men being able to walk away. “I’m going to have to call the body shop guy and tell him the loaner has a dent. I’m turning out to be good for business.”
“I’m relieved that it didn’t end with that guy coming through your windshield.”
“Freaked Fab out, but there was nothing she could’ve done differently. She was having a difficult time yesterday; I hope she’s feeling better.”
“Fab, Didier, and Brad left for Card Sound earlier to oversee the installation of the security system. Knowing you wouldn’t want to go, I bailed for both of us, and Brad stepped up and volunteered to ride along.”
“I can’t say I’m sorry that I’m missing out on that trip.”
He lifted my arm and lightly fingered the bruise. “How’s it feeling?”
“I rubbed some pain lotion on it before going to bed, and it looks worse than it feels.”
“I had a talk with Liam.”
“Now he’s never going to call again.”
“I told him to warn Glacier that the guy had a hair trigger and suggested that if he was planning to date her, he should get to know her better as a friend first so he has a good idea of the type of person he’s getting involved with. That way, she’ll know as well. I ended it by saying that if a similar situation should arise, he could call anytime.”
“Thank you for that.” I leaned my head against Creole’s chest.
“I’ve made plans for the two of us for the rest of the day. You eager to hear what they are?”
He tickled me until I screeched, “Yes.”
“We’re going to do absolutely nothing. Together.”
* * *
Creole careened around the corner to The Cottages. Our do-nothing day had been interrupted by a phone call. Creole had grabbed the phone out of my hand and held it out of my reach until it stopped ringing. He was about to relinquish it when it beeped with an incoming message. He groaned and thrust it at me.
I waved it off, knowing if a text came in that fast, it would need my immediate attention. “I insist that you read the good news.”
He stared down at the screen. “Get changed.”
“Do I get a hint about what kind of wardrobe choice I should be making?” I looked down at my t-shirt dress, which had rapidly become a favorite for its comfort.
“Dead body at The Cottages.”
“Which tenant?” I screeched, flying into the closet and coming out in a jean skirt, t-shirt, and tennis shoes—my uniform for when I didn’t know what to expect.
“Doesn’t say.” He pulled on a shirt and also shoved his feet into tennis shoes. Holding the door open, he said as I scooted through, “Mac’s not answering.”
Creole helped me into his oversized truck and sped down the highway, traffic cooperating. We arrived, only to have a cop wave us off from turning down the street. Creole drove ar
ound the block and parked at the opposite end, and we ran down the sidewalk.
“Where’s your damn phone?” I yelled to Mac, who stood in the middle of the driveway, waving her fist at… I wasn’t sure.
Mac patted the sides of her skirt. “Left it on the desk again.” She took off at a run.
Waiting for Mac’s breasts to fly up out of the towel thing she had wrapped around her neck and hit her in the face made me forget why we were there.
Mac skidded to a stop at the office door, yelling over her shoulder, “They’re out by the trash.”
Kevin came around the corner from that direction, laughing his head off.
“What’s going on?” Creole demanded.
Kevin caught his breath and said, “I was told to mind my own business. Besides, it’s my day off.” He squinted down at his cargo shorts and tropical shirt—his day-off clothing, which replaced his usual deputy’s uniform. He started laughing again and walked in the direction of the office.
“You wait right here.” Creole kissed my cheek.
“I’m coming. It won’t be my first dead body. Besides, I’m going to need pictures for Fab.”
“You look so normal.”
“I warned you before the I do’s,” I said with a lifted brow. “Too late now.”
“Don’t be expecting me to change my mind—not happening.” Creole grabbed my hand and tugged me away from the pool area, back out to the front and around the side of the property to where we’d have a good view of the dumpster and not get in the middle of any investigation. Two patrol cars had pulled up and were parked, blocking off the area from the street.
Creole pulled me to a stop at the sight of the body that had been dumped outside the fenced trash area. It had been wrapped in a garbage bag and secured with duct tape. “You can take pictures from here.” He walked over to the officer in charge.
Mac ran up behind me. “Anything happen?”
“Nothing good. So far.”
Mac lowered her voice, turning to one side. “Kevin says it’s a joke. He doesn’t know what was put in the trash bags to fill them out, but it’s not a body. He tried to tell the new officer, the one on the right, but he didn’t want to hear it.”
“It’s not funny,” I hissed. “If it turns out that this was the bright idea of one of the tenants, they’re evicted.”
“I don’t think so. Kevin says there’s a gift tag on the outside of the bag with Crum’s name written on it. Probably from one of his disgruntled girlfriends.” Mac looked around and continued, “Kevin’s going to double-check to make sure he’s not running any scams.”
“Creole,” I called out. He turned and frowned. I turned to Mac, “You get any close-ups?”
“Of course, I did.” Mac snorted, hands on hips, chest thrust out.
I stepped back, not wanting to get hit in the face, and crooked my finger at Creole, who walked over. “You’re going to want to hear this. That is not a dead body. At least, according to Kevin. No clue how he knows, but he seems certain.”
Creole looked over his shoulder at the crime scene.
“A prank of some sort directed at Crum, it would appear,” I said.
Creole grumbled, “Dumbass,” under his breath, to which I half-laughed. He frowned and stalked back over to the two officers. The one on his phone hung up, and Creole had a short conversation with the two. The three men stared at the supposed body.
One officer walked over and nudged the bagged form. The other got out a knife, which he used to slit the bottom half open. Trash fell out.
“Did Kevin say how he knew?” I asked Mac, who hadn’t moved from her vantage point, her phone out as she clicked away.
“This exact same thing happened up in Homestead. Kevin says the ‘body’ resembles a picture that someone posted online. I’d never have called the cops and wasted their time if I’d known it was a prank.”
“How were you supposed to know? You did the right thing. I’m not happy, but it beats the real thing,” I said. “I wish Crum would get a steady girlfriend and stop all this prowling around. Not sure what he does to inspire revenge in his women, but it’s happened more than a few times. He’s lucky one of them hasn’t totally flipped and offed him.”
“I’m going to try scaring him with that scenario. But he’s one of those people that doesn’t listen to good advice, so I’m not holding out hope for this time.”
Creole joined us. “The new guy, Piner—” He pointed to the first officer. “—thinks Kevin pranked him.”
I shook my head. “That’s not Kevin’s style. Besides, according to Kevin, somewhere on the bag is a tag with Crum’s name on it. My guess is that it’s someone trying to scare the man or send a warning.”
“I agree,” said Mac. “I’ll get Crum to clean up the trash; it’s the least he can do. And if he balks, I’ll tell him I’m sending him the bill for cleanup. That will get his butt moving.” Mac cut through the palm trees and back to the other side of the property.
Creole grabbed my hand. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Let me check on the inmates first.” I tugged on Creole’s hand, pausing at the end of the driveway. “Since we’re here, it would be good to make sure there won’t be any more frantic calls. Today anyway. You ready to be sidekick?”
Creole pulled me into a hug. “Seriously?” I nodded. “I’ll be wanting a dozen IOUs.”
“You don’t need them. You ask, I do.”
“I’m going to remind you of that later.”
Kevin dribbled a basketball in our direction, stopping a foot away. “Just wanted to report that someone stole the hoop.” He motioned toward the barbecue area where the hoop had been moved to from its original spot in the middle of the driveway. There was plenty of room in the seldom-used space and no chance of getting hit by a car pulling in too fast.
“That’s not possible,” I snapped. “It had to weigh a ton.”
“This is one of the few times that we’re in agreement.” Kevin shrugged.
Creole glared at him but bit back what he’d been about to say.
“What are you going to do about it?” I asked.
“Did you file a report?”
“Since this is the first I’m hearing about it…”
“I’ll keep an eye out. But unless you painted your name on it, bye-bye hoop.” Kevin waved and dribbled a few steps away, then stopped and turned. “Almost forgot. I drew the short straw last night and got the disturbance call for Jake’s.”
“No wonder you’re in a good mood. How many of my customers did you haul off to the pokey?”
Creole chuckled.
“That would be jail, and no one. Noise complaint, and it must have been a disgruntled customer. When I arrived, I couldn’t hear a thing in the parking lot, and only music when the door opened. Inside, everyone was dancing, beer in hand, slinging it everywhere. The dance contest was a big hit, and not a single fight over who was going to win the free beer. Didn’t stick around for the winner.” He made a sad face and grinned. “For once, no one ran out the back, and I got my soda to-go.”
Creole gave me a questioning look.
“Fab and Kelpie put their heads together and came up with a plan to have live bands and dancing contests,” I told him. “It wasn’t the Clogger band, was it?” Judging by Kevin’s who? look, I took the answer to be no.
“Now that we’re married, I suppose I should keep up on the latest happenings at Jake’s,” Creole said.
“Trust me, it’ll give you a headache.” Kevin turned at the sound of voices. “I’m surprised Crum’s not getting questioned about the dead-body gift. It’s my day off, so I’ll get the replay from Mac later.” He dribbled back to his cottage.
Crum rounded the corner, shirtless, but with pants on for once. A disheveled man stumbled along next to him in shorts and a dress shirt, looking as though he’d woken up from a night of drinking and was still drunk, judging by the sway to his walk.
“New tenant?” Creole asked.
“Better not be.”
Crum made eye contact with me, then grabbed the man’s arm and attempted to get him to turn back in the direction of his cottage.
“Hold on,” I bellowed before they reached it.
Creole sped up, and we closed the distance quickly, not giving Crum time to get his door shut and force me to resort to threats to get him to open it.
“Hi, we haven’t met.” I eyed the stranger, who was clearly hungover and not quite focused. I didn’t get a response from either man. Crum had a deer-in-the-headlights look. “Who is this?” I asked both men in hopes of getting a coherent answer.
“Brother,” the drunk said at the same time Crum said, “Cousin.”
Creole snorted. “I’d think you’d be keeping a low profile with a murderer on the loose and you a target of interest,” he directed at Crum.
“Told Mac I’d get right out there and clean up the mess.” He didn’t make eye contact, fidgeting from one foot to the other. “I don’t know why I have to be held responsible for what some crazy woman does.”
“You could start by being honest with these women you hook up with,” I said. “Let them know you’re only good for a one-night stand and that’s it. Or get yourself a pay-by-the-hour girlfriend.”
Creole laughed.
Crum straightened to his full height and glared at Creole, who laughed harder.
Crum’s brother/cousin clutched his mid-section and groaned. Crum slung an arm around his shoulder and led him away from the door. “You can’t barf in my house. Do it out here where it can be washed away.”
“Whatever the two of you are up to, he can’t stay here,” I called after the two men. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Joseph waving frantically from the pool area. “Crum… I’m holding you one-hundred-percent responsible.” I grabbed Creole’s hand and led him to the pool gate, entering the code to go put water on whatever fire Joseph had burning. At least, the pool water was right there.
“If you’re tired of this already, you can grab a cold drink in the office,” I said to Creole.
“No way. I’m going to stay within hearing distance. That way, you don’t have to repeat anything and I don’t have to wonder if you’re telling the truth. There are times when the events that play out here are hard to believe.”
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