“Come on, helper,” Fab said, shoving her phone in her pocket and getting out. “Before the guys wonder what’s taking us so long.”
“We have a new code—I tap my foot three times, you get us out of here. Pronto.”
We cut over to the red carpet, which had been replaced, and danced to the front door, laughing.
Raul, who already had the door open and was leaning against the frame, clapped at our performance. Dickie stuck his head out over Raul’s shoulder. The dogs bolted around the two men and romped over to the grass to chase one another.
“Come see our new addition.” Raul directed us over to one side. “I thought we’d sit out here under the new pergola. We recently had our first wedding out here, and we have hopes that it will become a favorite venue choice.” We rounded the corner and saw that they’d also added a complete outdoor kitchen, bar, and seating area.
“How did that go?” I asked.
“The whole day went off without a hitch. The bride was beautiful.” Raul smiled at Dickie. “We had a worry or two about how Crum would work out, but he came through with a great performance. The couple was very happy.”
“I did the bride’s makeup.” Dickie appeared flushed. “It’s a different technique than on a dead person, but I thought it came out good and not overdone.”
I smiled lamely and let Fab do the talking.
We slid onto bar stools while Raul went behind the bar and served cold drinks—our usual waters and soda for the two of them.
“We knew you were interested in the bodies found in Card Sound,” Dickie started. “So when we went to dinner with our coroner friend, we asked a couple of questions. Raul did. I would never.” He looked flustered at the thought.
“The latest remains are that of a woman, but she’s yet to be identified,” Raul said. “Another body was found a few days ago, floating under the bridge. It will be interesting to see what the cause of death is determined to be in both cases.”
“Murder in at least one case,” I said. “Since you can’t dispose of your own remains.”
“Lot of crime going on out there, according to our friend,” Dickie said.
“They’ve got one suspect in jail,” Raul said. “No way he didn’t have help.”
“Any local gossip?” I asked. “I know you make friends in interesting places.”
“It hasn’t been a big story,” Raul said. “Not a lot of details coming out of our law enforcement friends. It also hasn’t been covered by the media in any kind of eye-catching way. A casual mention here and there and no follow-up.”
“Probably a good thing.” Dickie fidgeted. “It might affect tourist business to our area, since we’re only a few miles away, but I don’t suppose it’s a destination spot for anyone.”
“That’s because there’s nothing out there except a restaurant,” Fab pointed out. “I will say that every time we’ve driven by the parking lot, it’s been full. Nothing against the place, but I don’t recommend you go sample the food. At least, not until this case gets solved.”
“I’ve heard that the majority of folks that live out there are off the grid,” Raul said. “The few that do live there know everything that goes on but keep their mouths shut. They’d probably also like the case solved, but if they have information, they’re too afraid to come forward for fear it would get back to the wrong ears.”
“The last tidbit our friend shared,” Dickie said, “is that a team of officers are being brought in to clean out the area. Everything’s on the hush-hush. Be interesting to see what they uncover, if anything. It was his guess they’d find nothing more than poachers.”
Fab, who’d been scoping out the property and staring across the driveway, asked, “When’s the museum going to be finished?”
I looked down, in case I couldn’t control my eyeroll.
“We’re trying to hire a decorator, but we haven’t come across anyone that’s interested in the job yet,” Raul said, not happy.
“Look no further,” I said enthusiastically. “The answer to your decorating dilemma sits right here in front of you.” I pointed at Fab. “Her house, her office…she’s done an amazing job.” If looks could kill, I’d be an incinerated mess. “I’m certain her husband would want to lend his talents as well. He’s also got a great eye for what works.”
Two pairs of expectant eyes turned on Fab. Her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment at the sudden attention…or anger; it was a difficult call. I smiled at her.
“I’ve got a full calendar of clients,” Fab said, then noticed the smiles disappearing off their faces. “But I’m certain I can find someone more qualified than myself. I’m thinking someone with a theatrical background to give it the right flair.”
I wanted to clap. Nice save. And no, my friend, this isn’t a job you’ll be foisting off on me.
“You’d do that for us?” Dickie sat forward with a look of expectancy that was foreign on his pale features.
“You leave it to us.” Fab wagged her finger between me and her.
“I knew she’d be the perfect choice,” I cooed, upping my excitement level and getting an I hate you glare from Fab in return.
Raul patted Fab’s hand. “Who knew we’d become such good friends?”
Who knew indeed?
Fab checked her phone. “I’ve got another appointment. I picked up a lawyer client, and he’s got his first job for me, which he wants taken care of right away.”
We stood, and Fab and Raul hugged. I waved stupidly at Dickie, who grinned ever so slightly and waved back, then patted Fab on the shoulder.
“We hear anything else, we’ll let you know,” Raul assured Fab.
The dog’s heads snapped up from where they lay taking a nap, and they jumped up and stood by the two men as we made our way back to the Hummer.
“Catch,” I called to Fab and tossed her the keys. “You can take me home.”
Once the doors were closed, she snapped, “You’re lucky I don’t make you walk,” and flew out of the driveway.
“Do you really have an appointment, or was that a ruse to get us out of there?” I asked.
“I must’ve forgotten to tell you.” She sighed dramatically. “Tank called this morning and has divorce papers he wants served.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Fab took one of her many shortcuts to her office, pulling up alongside the black Mercedes sedan that was parked in front. Fab and the other driver rolled down their windows. Tank handed her a manila envelope, which she stuffed between the seat and console.
I couldn’t hear the conversation because Fab had hung her head out the window, and it was frustrating. I clipped her in the back. “Any problems we should know about?”
Fab ignored me, and before I could scream across the car, she waved at Tank, rolled up the window, and sped off.
“What’s the gist of this job? Because if I’m going, you’d better give some details. Or I’ll get out here, walk to Brad’s, and get a ride home from him.” I hit the unlock button.
“What’s gotten into you?” Fab asked, mimicking Mother’s don’t make me tone, which was usually followed by a threat. “Couple getting a divorce, and legally, the papers need to be served so the unhappy twosome can go their separate ways. Satisfied?” She hit the locks.
“Is it local? Because I’m feeling too fragile to leave town today.”
Fab snorted.
“So unladylike. You’ll get extended nostrils from doing that,” I admonished in a patronizing tone.
Fab laughed. “That’s such drivel. But I’m going to write it down, along with a few of your mother’s other doom and gloom references, to use on my kids for behavior modification.”
“You sound like a shrink. You should hope that when you have kids, the only thing you have to worry about is bodily function noises.”
Fab flicked her hair and trotted out snooty girl. “Back to business. We’re headed to Marathon.”
“If Tank is going to have you serving papers, you might want to c
heck to see if it requires a special license, since I’m almost certain that it does. Lest you get hauled into court and a judge asks you, ‘What the heck, young lady?’”
“If that’s necessary, then you get the license.”
“You see a pig flying by?” At her confused glare, I said, “Because that’s how soon I’ll be doing that.”
“As my partner—”
I let out a loud sob. Her head jerked around. “It’s so sad…” I continued to make fake sounds. “…when your helper, sidekick, and whatever other titles I’ve been assigned, goes off the rails and cops an attitude.”
“Stop with the noise.”
I took a deep breath and shook my head. “Okay, I’m back to normal. I saw you roll your eyes. What’s the plan for today’s next round of fun in the sun?”
“Tank represents the husband, who assured him that his wife would be at home. We knock, hand off the papers, and leave.”
“I’ll wait in the car.”
“No, you will not. If you’re good, I’ll buy you a lemonade afterwards.”
“Yum.” I licked my lips.
Traffic was really moving. Fab chose a lane and stuck to it, driving down the Overseas. It didn’t take long to get to the address, a newly constructed two-story waterfront mansion. The gates stood open. She rolled through and turned around to park facing back towards the street.
Together, we walked up a short flight of steps to the front door. About to ring the bell, Fab paused, turned, and doubled back to the SUV. Retrieving the envelope, she came back and rang the doorbell, which could be heard all the way out on the porch. I hung back, looking for the fast getaway out of habit. The only one was back out the front gates. I didn’t like our chances of climbing over if they closed for some reason.
A middle-aged man with his hair slicked back and coke-bottle glasses stuck his head out the door, gave Fab a once-over, and licked his lips. “You from Mr. Cannon’s office?”
“Is Lorna Hill at home?” Fab asked.
The man pushed the door open wide. “Come in.”
I grabbed the back of Fab’s top as she stepped forward. “That’s swell of you. But it’s against the law for us to come inside.” Unless he was familiar with the law, he wouldn’t know I’d just made that up, and we’d be long gone by the time he bothered to check.
Fab shot me a sideways glance but stayed put.
The man appeared unsure of what to say and finally sputtered, “I’ll get her.” He closed the door.
Fab and I stood there in silence as the minutes ticked by. Frustrated, Fab started tapping her foot.
“I’m nervy enough to ring the bell again,” I said, having had enough of staring at the paver design of the driveway.
Fab cupped her hands against the side window and peered inside just as the door opened.
“I hope you’re not getting fingerprints on the glass,” the blond-haired woman said stridently. She looked like she’d stepped from a 50s ad with her bouffant, full skirt, and cashmere sweater. I wanted to ask her if she itched when it was hot outside.
“Lorna Hill?” Fab asked. When she nodded, Fab thrust the envelope at her.
“What’s this?” She jerked her hand back, and it fell to the ground.
“You’ve been served,” I said solemnly, trying to imitate what I’d once seen on television.
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Hill shrieked. She kicked the envelope with her pointy high heel, and it clipped Fab in the shin. “What do you know about this, Myles?”
Mr. Hill—he had to be the husband, not the butler like I’d assumed–stuttered in the face of her anger. I couldn’t imagine why he was stupid enough to be there when the divorce papers were served…unless he wanted to see her reaction.
Since this wasn’t one of those situations where we needed to say our good-byes and express what fun we’d had, I tugged on Fab’s arm and nodded in the direction of the SUV.
“Don’t take one more step,” Mrs. Hill ordered. “You’re taking those with you.” She kicked out her expensively clad foot.
“You’re apparently unaware of how this works. Once contact has been made, you’ve been served and the case will proceed,” I said. It was clear that Mrs. Hill hadn’t known that fact, and it ratcheted up her anger.
“You need to work this out with your husband,” Fab said, and turned away.
The woman launched herself across the porch and toppled Fab to the ground, trying to wrestle her around. Fab elbowed her in the gut, which elicited a grunt, and the woman started to pummel her.
Mr. Hill slammed the door shut.
I jumped forward, unsure what to do since my fighting skills were non-existent, and fisted my hand in Mrs. Hill’s hair in an attempt to yank her back. What I got was a handful of wig. The woman shrieked again, running her hand over the short dark strands of her real hair, her red-painted lips forming an O. Capitalizing on the element of surprise, I jerked her sideways, and Fab scrambled to her feet.
The door opened again, followed by a gunshot that sent several pieces of concrete flying. Mr. Hill appeared proud of himself, but was clearly not in control of his firearm—it shook in his hand.
“I could shoot you, and it would be self-defense,” he bellowed at his wife.
Fab whirled around, kicking one leg out, and sent the gun flying into the bushes.
“You stupid ass,” the wife yelled at him. She bent down, picked up the envelope, and slapped it at Fab. “Take these and get off my property.”
Fab shrugged it off. “Both of you sit,” she ordered. The woman sputtered in outrage. She was in a half-kneel when Fab gave her a shove, and she landed on her butt.
“That means you too,” I said to the husband, but he shrugged away and ran into the house. He reappeared a minute later, rolling his suitcase down the steps and across the driveway. The door of the garage had gone up, and he popped the trunk on a Lexus and threw the suitcase in. He jerked open the door and turned. “See you in divorce court,” he yelled, then cut around the Hummer and squealed the tires out of the driveway.
“Stop him,” Mrs. Hill screamed.
“He’s on the main highway by this time.” I was tempted to jump down the steps, but opted to walk down instead of running the risk of falling.
“This is you bitches’ fault,” Mrs. Hill screamed.
I half-expected her to lose her voice.
Fab leaned down in her face. “You better hope your husband doesn’t need a witness to go before a judge and testify to what went on here today. Because as much as I’m loathe to make a court appearance, I’ll show up and make today’s events sound like Armageddon.” She lifted her top, showing her weapon. “You should damn well thank me for not shooting you. And I will if you move from this spot before we get off the property.”
Fab bolted down the steps and grabbed my arm. We jumped into the car, and she sped off in much the same fashion as the husband.
“I’m thinking Mrs. Hill didn’t know her husband wanted a divorce…or did know but didn’t think he had the balls to file,” I said.
“Language, Madison.” Fab burst out laughing. When she recovered, she said, “It’s time to sign up for self-defense classes; we both could use a refresher.”
“There’s something we agree on.”
Fab handed me her phone. “Call Tank and report the job completed.”
I scrolled through the contacts, found the number, and was annoyed when I got voicemail. “Mr. Tank, this is Madison, and the job is complete. Another thing: if I find out you knew in advance that the Hill couple had lunatic tendencies, I’ll personally kick your big butt.” I put the phone in the cup holder.
“I bet when he hears your message, his three-hundred-pound frame will be shaking in his sandals.”
“I’ll have tequila in my lemonade.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The next day, Fab wanted to do some serious shopping and dragged me along, informing me that it was my job to make sure she didn’t buy out the stores. When it came t
o spending money, the woman never listened to me, but I didn’t point that out, knowing she wouldn’t listen now. It turned out to be one of those days where whatever she found wasn’t just right. After lunch at our favorite taco truck, which I got to choose, I had her stop at the grocery store. That morning, I’d threatened to cook dinner, and Creole had laughed, knowing that I used to be the cook extraordinaire in the family, but moving to South Florida had quelled that interest. Both Fab and I had lucked out, in that we had husbands who loved to cook, and tonight, I was making the choices.
Didier would be proud of me—I stuck to the outer aisles and bought all fresh foods, which included vegetables and a piece of fresh fish that, if I had my way, would be grilled. I turned around at the register to go back to the bakery and choose a fruit tart. Fab also added a few items to the basket after calling Didier.
We left the store and unloaded the cart into the back of the Hummer. Then Fab turned the cart around and rode it back to the cart stand with one foot resting on the bar, the other pushing. I laughed at the grown woman having fun, laughing as she went.
“Well, if it isn’t the pretty little redhead.” A woman appeared from between the cars, a floppy, wide-brimmed hat hiding her face from full view. “I’ve thought about you a lot. Did you miss me?” The voice, which seemed familiar, sent shivers up my spine.
“Not really.” I stepped back, subtly attempting to move my arm behind my back.
“None of that,” the woman spat. Her arm shot up, and her hat landed on the ground.
Addy was the last person I’d expected to come face-to-face with, and she caught me off guard, smashing something against the side of my head.
I stumbled backward. My head felt wet, and when I touched it, my fingers came away red. I blinked and shook my head to regain my wits.
Addy managed to keep me upright, hooking her arm around my torso and attempting to get me to move forward.
I screamed. It sounded pitiful to my ears. The last thing I heard was a shout as I slipped to the ground and everything went black.
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