Overdose in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  “I’ve got a couple of connections that can get us information if we need to use them, but they both have criminal tendencies.” Fab backed into Mac’s driveway.

  “I’m happy that all our checking out Nicolette is over,” I said. “Next case, can we round up lost cats?”

  Fab cuffed my head. “If you recall, even a few of those involved felons.”

  “It was your idea to come here, so you’re running the show.” I scooted out of the SUV before she could commit more bodily harm. “I’ll follow you like a stalker.”

  “If you leave my side, I’ll track you down,” Fab threatened. “I need you to translate drunk talk.”

  “If you can catch a couple of words, you can usually fill in the blanks.”

  Mac barreled out of the office, some sort of cape dress flying out behind her. “I’m here to serve.” She swept us a bow.

  I held my breath until Mac straightened, certain she’d tip over on her head any second.

  “Do you happen to have Mr. Butthead’s address?” Fab asked.

  “As a matter of fact…” Mac whipped out her phone and texted Fab the information. “If you’re planning an in-person visit, be careful. He’s a sneaky devil and would relish putting another person in the hospital.”

  “Is he home?” Fab pointed to Joseph’s cottage.

  “He and Crum are brainstorming ways to raise money to pay his lawyer bills,” Mac said with a grin.

  “You’re going to be held one hundred percent responsible if whatever they’re up to turns into another trip to jail,” I snapped, wiping the grin off her face.

  She jumped around in some kind of ninja stance, leaning forward. “You’re no freakin’ fun.”

  “Who’s the boss here?”

  I wasn’t sure how she’d perfected crossing her eyes, but it looked ouchie.

  Mac ignored me as though the answer to my question just wasn’t coming to her. She tried to hook her arm through Fab’s, but the woman was too fast and stepped away. “You’re going to need someone to decipher drunk talk.”

  “I’ll catch up,” I yelled to their backs as I shuffled along behind them. I was in a quandary. I didn’t want to suck it up and act like the owner of the property. Instead, I wanted to excuse myself and go sit in the car. On the other hand, whatever those two codgers were up to, I wanted to hear it from the men in question.

  The cottage door stood open, Fab filling the doorway. “Quiet,” she barked.

  I almost turned to see if anyone walking by in the street could hear.

  I peeked inside as Fab moved to the center of the room, her militant stance letting everyone know she was in charge. Mac plunked down on the couch and put her feet up, ready for the show. On the opposite end sat Svetlana, her calm, cool demeanor never wavering. One of the benefits of being full of air.

  Poor Joseph had been run over by a bus, then brought inside and tossed in his favorite chair. His hair stuck up on end, an unlit cigarette wobbling between his lips. Judging by the pile of beer cans that had missed the trash, he was tanked or close to it.

  “I don’t want to go to jail,” he whined, rheumy eyes clouded over.

  “You think Madison and I are going to let that happen?” Fab kicked his foot. “And you…” She glared at Crum, the retired professor still in a ’tude over being ordered to be quiet.

  Hands on the arms of his chair, Crum stood up, ramrod stiff and naked. Almost. The too-small tighty-whities were indecent.

  “You better not have left your cottage undressed like that.” I kept my eyes pinned to his face.

  Crum snatched a piece of fabric off the floor. “If you weren’t such a puritan, I wouldn’t have to tuck this pillow case in the elastic.” Which he proceeded to demonstrate.

  “Sit back down,” Fab ordered. “Whatever is going on here, you’re the ringleader, and therefore, you can explain.”

  “How dare you, missy?” Crum thundered.

  “I dare plenty. Now sit, or it’s going to get ugly.” Fab stared him down. “Start talking.”

  “Even you should be able to get it through your simplistic mind,” Crum peered down his nose, “that Joseph needs cash to keep him out of trouble. But most of the ideas we came up with were questionable. Then…” He preened. “I came up with the idea of selling Svetlana by the hour. It’s not like she’s going to complain, and I figure we work her around the clock, and in no time, Joseph will have the money he needs.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Fab snapped.

  “I second that, and if I hear that Svet’s been pimped out even once, you’ll both be on the street, your belongings in a trash bag.” I dusted my hands together.

  “I need to speak to Joseph in private.” Fab stared pointedly at Crum.

  “You’re dismissing me?” Crum’s white brows disappeared under the scraggly hair hanging over his forehead.

  “If it makes you feel better, I’m leaving with you.” I’d already heard the rehash of the so-called fight once.

  “It doesn’t.” He rose and stomped to the door, only prevented from slamming it because I was hot on his heels.

  “You’re really something,” I hissed. “You need to use that high IQ you brag about in less ridiculous ways. Pimping is a felony, and I’m not sure that the fact that the woman in question is a rubber work of art matters.”

  Crum sputtered, his face crimson. “This will teach me to mind my own business and forget lending a helping hand to a friend.” He stormed over to his door and disappeared inside, a faint click signaling that it’d closed.

  I scoped out the property as I headed back to the SUV, and all was quiet, which should be a red flag, but it did happen on occasion. I didn’t have the key, so I leaned against the hood.

  I didn’t have long to wait. Soon, Fab strode down the driveway, Mac hustling behind her carrying Svetlana.

  “Mac is keeping Svet in the office until I deal with Butthead,” Fab decreed. “I don’t trust Joseph not to go ahead with this dicey idea. I also threatened that if I ever got wind that he’d resurrected this scheme, I’d find Svet another soul mate and he’d never see her again.”

  Once Fab and I were in the car, I asked, “We headed to Butthead’s?”

  “He’s working the closing shift, so we’ll have to do it tomorrow.”

  I groaned. “What’s your plan, anyway?”

  “A chat about how it would be in his best interest to drop the charges. I may offer up some cash if he’s contrite enough.”

  “Will your Walther be involved?”

  “I’ll wear it on the outside of my clothes and brag about what a good shot I am. But I promise it won’t leave the holster. Just in case he calls the cops after I leave—I don’t want him saying I threatened him at gunpoint.”

  I sagged against the seat, certain we were headed for jail on one charge or another.

  “I’ve got this handled,” Fab reassured me. “Don’t worry about going. I’ll turn this over to Toady.”

  Judging by the excitement in her eyes as she’d unveiled her plan, I didn’t believe her. She was looking forward to scaring the man herself. “You had better not go by yourself, which I can see that you’re contemplating. Try and leave me behind—see what happens.”

  “It’s going to be fun. You’ll see.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Creole dragged me out of bed, eager to hustle me out the door. “I’m taking you out to breakfast. It’s something we never do.”

  Since he was so excited, I didn’t grumble that I wanted to stay home, just the two of us.

  He took me to one of my favorite restaurants, The Bakery Café. I claimed our usual table on the sidewalk while he went inside and placed an order.

  Only then did I catch sight of GC and Lucas sitting at the opposite end of the walk. Lucas, slightly turned away, hadn’t seen Creole and me arrive, but judging by the scowl on GC’s face, he had, and his anger with me hadn’t abated.

  Creole snuck up on me, setting my coffee in front of me
. “You look lost in thought.”

  I flipped off the lid and smelled my coffee. “My favorite.” I smiled up at him. “I was worried for a minute that you’d get me decaf.”

  Instead of laughing, he frowned at me, dragging his chair closer. “You know you can tell my anything.”

  “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?” I ignored his groan. “It seems like there’s drama coming from all sides, and I’m certain I’ve missed a detail or two.” I sucked down half my coffee. So much for a ladylike sip. “It’s nice to have a lazy day with fiancé extraordinaire.”

  “Is there something you haven’t told me?” he demanded, somewhat playfully.

  “You just need to learn to take a compliment.” I brushed his lips with mine.

  “Do you see this foot?”

  “The one you’re holding up?” I tossed a glance at the next table. “I’m not the only one wondering what you’re doing.”

  “I’m putting it down.” His foot hit the sidewalk. “We’ve had this conversation once, and we’re having it again. This case of yours that’s not really a case—give it up. You’ve done your part.”

  I puffed out a laugh.

  “The dead chick was a felonious hot mess, involved in the get-you-killed kind of activity.” He took my cup from my hand, setting it down and clasping my hands in his. “You’ve gotten the doc jail perks, a first-class lawyer, and arranged bail. He can deal with his own problems from now on.”

  “Like you said, I’ve done all I can.” Lucas Mark would have his work cut out for him trying to prove Dr. A didn’t supply the drugs.

  “If he needs a sympathetic ear, have him call me,” Creole grouched.

  I pressed my hands to his cheeks, kissing him. “Are you extending the same offer to my tenants at The Cottages?”

  “Hell no!”

  I laughed. “There’s more on Dr. A’s case that I need to share to catch you up. I’d like to do it when Fab and Didier are both present, so can it wait until we’re all together?”

  “As long as you’re not in any danger.”

  I acknowledged the waiter with a smile as he set down the food, not having to ask whose was whose. Every time I ate there, I ordered the same thing.

  “I have a new business idea,” I said, changing the subject. “I’d like to invite Fab and Didier to dinner and pitch it to them. I say we flip to see who cooks,” I teased.

  Ever since she acquired the building, Fab had wanted me to share office space with her and Didier, and now I was ready to take them up on the idea. I was certain that Fab already had her own ideas as to how we’d accomplish that, but then, so did I.

  “I’ll volunteer. We haven’t fired up the barbeque in a while. When you call Fab, tell her that I’ll be grilling hamburgers and hot dogs.”

  “You’re so bad.” I always loved an opportunity to prank her. “I’d have to tell her after she agreed to come, and even then, Didier would have to drag her.”

  I caught sight of Lucas and GC standing to leave and hoped they’d cut out to the street and we’d go unnoticed. No such luck.

  “Incoming.” I nudged Creole’s leg.

  “I almost didn’t see you sitting over here.” Lucas held out his hand to Creole and introduced himself. “Lucas Mark.”

  “The lawyer.” Creole shook his hand.

  “The man behind him is Brad’s neighbor, Alex,” I said.

  Still annoyed, GC didn’t make eye contact.

  Lucas turned to me and asked, “Do you mind answering a couple of questions? I’ll be quick.” He appeared slightly embarrassed by his own pushiness.

  “If you don’t mind us eating while you talk.” Creole’s tone relayed that he did mind.

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” Lucas said to his brother, taking a seat.

  “Before you leave…” I waved my hand in Alex’s direction. He stopped being GC when he turned off the phone. “Lucas, would you tell your brother exactly how it was that you came to be Dr. A’s attorney and disabuse him of the notion that I harangued you into taking the case?” I shot GC a dirty look. “Neighbor relations and all.”

  “Yeah, I called Madison and offered her friend my services.” Lucas laughed it off.

  “Good to know.” GC nodded, then turned and clapped Lucas on the shoulder. “Later.”

  As much as I wanted to watch his retreat down the sidewalk to see where the man disappeared to, as he’d done on previous occasions, I instead smiled lamely at Lucas.

  “Dr. A is on the court calendar for another bail hearing,” Lucas said. “I’m working to get him out, probably on a monitor. I wanted to thank you for the bail referral. They didn’t balk at what could be a high amount. Funny thing, I couldn’t find a listing for them anywhere.”

  “That’s interesting.” I gave him the innocent face I worked on in the mirror from time to time. The only one it didn’t fool was Creole.

  “Another thank you for the report and video you delivered,” Lucas praised. “It surprised me to find it leaning against the door. So much for security.”

  “I made the first delivery and Fab the second. I followed another owner into the building; probably the same for her.” I put my empty cup to my lips to keep from laughing at Creole’s smirk.

  “The report you delivered was first class. Do you mind giving me the name of the person you used?”

  “That guy disconnected his number. They’re such an unreliable lot.”

  Creole leaned forward. “Madison has done enough on this case. If you need further recommendations, call the bail bondsman. If it’s who I think it is…” He arched a brow at me and I nodded. “He’s got all kinds of connections. He’ll fix you up…for a price.”

  The two men sized each other up.

  “Got it.” Lucas stood. “Thanks again for all your help.” He crossed the sidewalk and climbed into a Mercedes.

  “Not that I’m planning on needing a good criminal lawyer, but if I did, I’m not sure he’d take my call now.”

  “Sure he will.” Creole snorted. “If not, I’ll beat the hell out of him.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rather than call Fab and get six hundred questions, I called Didier and invited the couple to dinner, getting an instantaneous yes. Creole and I stopped at the market, where I teased him about how domesticated we looked. He chose a piece of fish to grill, and I loaded up with vegetables and chose an apple tart from their bakery.

  “Your idea to have them over for dinner is a good one,” Creole said as we walked into the house. We’d stopped at the liquor store, where he’d checked out their newest beer arrivals. “We’ve all been so busy that we haven’t had a lot of time to just hang out.”

  I still missed all of us living together. “How is the work on my house going? I need to put on my hardhat and go check out the progress.” I’d mostly dealt with the loss of my house and wiped away the memory of flames licking through the rooms.

  “You name the time and we’ll go together.”

  “I should do it myself, so I can prove to my inner self that I’m stronger than I feel sometimes. It could’ve been worse.” I shuddered. “I confess that I love the added security of living behind gates and no one but family knowing where we live.” I’d also taken the advice to get a mail drop. Fab had gone with me, and we signed up at the same time.

  “Thanks to Caspian, we have our own private street. If Fab can’t talk your family into moving, I wonder what she’ll do with the two empty houses.”

  “Don’t underestimate Fab’s persuasiveness. I expect to see a For Sale sign at Mother’s one of these days. Brad will have to be dragged kicking and screaming.” But if the right kind of pressure were applied to my brother, he wouldn’t be able to hold out forever.

  “I’m happy we already live here and won’t be subject to all the drama.” He opened the refrigerator, then turned back. “A little wager? The loser signs a personal IOU. Do our neighbors arrive by beach or car?”

  “Beach,” I called.


  “We’re here,” Fab called from the patio door.

  “You saw them coming,” Creole growled, his lips turning up. “I’ll get my revenge later.” He gave me a smacking kiss. “Come in.” He waved. “Just getting out the vodka.”

  “Sore loser.” I wagged my finger at him, then squeezed past him to greet Fab and Didier. “We all need to slow down, as Creole reminded me, and do this more often.”

  Didier joined Creole in the kitchen, and Creole handed Fab and me our drinks while the guys discussed which beer to drink.

  Jazz and Snow woke up, stretching on the large round pillow Creole had found and placed at the foot of the bed. Then they headed straight for Didier and wound through his legs, rubbing their faces on his pants. He opened the refrigerator, pulled out a can, and spooned it onto their plates.

  Fab looped her arm through mine and steered me out to the patio. “I assume we’re sitting out here?” She nodded at the table I’d set earlier.

  We sat in the dark-brown rattan double chaises that Creole had surprised me with after I’d moved in. He had even picked out pillows.

  “I got a call today from the insurance company processing Mr. Mott’s claim. They want me to come to their office and speak with them about my role in the day’s events,” Fab said. “I suggested that they ask their questions over the phone, and they said it had to be done in person.”

  “You can’t go by yourself. You need to take a lawyer. Not that you did anything wrong, but we don’t want them getting that idea.”

  “They asked for a number for you, and I gave them GC’s disconnected phone number. They didn’t call back.”

  “Neither of us did anything remotely illegal, and we have video proof.” I tipped my glass against hers. “You’ve got two choices—Lucas Mark or Emerson. I’m thinking ask the latter for a referral.”

  “Why am I hearing that man’s name again today?” Creole grouched from the door, platter in hand as he headed to the barbeque.

  “Is this about Fab taking a lawyer to her appointment?” Didier asked, stepping around Creole. “Surprisingly, for once, I’m not the last to know.” He updated Creole about the latest in the Mott case. After Fab’s visit to Mott’s office, the guys had wanted to follow up with a visit of their own, but Fab calmed them down.