Hurricane in Paradise (Florida Keys Mystery Series Book 10)

by Deborah Brown

  “If you barf, it better not be in my hair,” Fab grouched.

  “Your sympathy overwhelms me. Don’t let go of the damn ladder.” I backed down the rungs, testing each one before putting my full weight on the old wood.

  Trying to negotiate the missing rung, I lost my balance and hit the ground with a hard thump. Fab kept the ladder from toppling over on top of me.

  It could have been worse. At least I didn’t land on my head. I rested my head on my knees. Eventually, I got up slowly, and the only real pain came from where I’d landed on my backside.

  “You’re lucky.” Fab checked me over, putting her hand on my forehead.

  I pushed her hand away. “I don’t have a headache; my butt hurts.”

  “When you update Creole, just remember the part where I said this was a bad idea and then saved your life.”

  “I don’t remember those exact words. Ms. Gill won’t be in court today—she’s dead. Trust me—unfortunately, once you smell death, you never forget.” I rubbed my backside.

  “That’s so un-ladylike.” Fab enunciated her words slowly.

  “I’m going to tell Mother you were mean to me,” I whined.

  “Did you see a dead body? What if it isn’t Ms. Gill?”

  “I can ID the dead cockroaches.” I sighed with relief that I hadn’t put my hand on one. “If you’re suggesting breaking in, I don’t want to hear it.” I covered my ears. “I don’t want any part of it.” Jumping to my feet, I dragged the ladder back to the shed, putting it back in its place. Picking up a branch, I snapped off the end and shoved it in the jam to keep the door closed, since the lock seemed to have disappeared.

  I limped over and picked up the broken rungs. “I’m out of this case,” I informed Fab. “Whatever you decide to do, do it after you take me back to the boat.”

  “Brick’s not going to like this.” Her eyes narrowed.

  “Too damn bad. Ms. Gill is either dead or not home, and either way, she won’t be making her court hearing today. Your best bet is to call local law enforcement for a welfare check. And that bit of advice pays back the last freebie you gave me. So that makes us even.” I left her glaring at me and started back to the SUV.

  I got into the passenger seat and sat down with a groan. Fab was busy talking on her phone; it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that it was with Brick. That cop brother of his could get someone down here to bash the door in and have a look around.

  Fab slid into the driver’s seat. “Brick hung up on me. Told me he didn’t want to hear excuses; just find out what the hell is going on. Wants me to go in.”

  “No,” I yelled.

  Any additional conversation was cut off by the arrival of a turquoise 1960 Cadillac that frankly looked its age. The windows rolled down, a jowly, grey-haired man sat behind the wheel. He laid on the horn and parked on the SUV’s back bumper.

  “Since I’m the calm one—” I poked Fab’s shoulder. “—I’ll do the talking. You shoot him if he gets any weird ideas. I’ll visit you in lockup as often as they let me.”

  Fab snorted and slid out, slamming the door.

  The man stuck out his stubby hand. “Carter Gill,” he introduced himself, checking Fab over and clicking his teeth. “Get the door open?” He looked me up and down too. “You’re not bad. Brick sure knows how to put out.” He whistled, and two pit bulls jumped out the driver’s side window and came running, sitting by his side. “Don’t worry about them; they’re good boys.”

  “Friend of Brick’s?” I struggled not to roll my eyes. “How can we help you?”

  “I’m so worried about my sister, Letty. I’d have checked on her myself but I couldn’t get in the house.” He didn’t bother to sound sincere. He wanted something.

  “Why didn’t you call the police?” I asked.

  “Brick assured me you two could handle this. Door unlocked?” He started around the back of the house, the dogs following him.

  Fab shook her head before I could answer. When he was a few feet away, she said, “Let him find out for himself.”

  “I thought this was billed as a family friend; I do remember freebie being mentioned. Does that bastard ever tell the truth?”

  Fab shrugged.

  “Unfortunately, with my low-life experience, I can tell that man is up to something. Wonder how disappointed he’ll be when he finds out Letty’s dead?” I asked.

  “It could be someone else, and Letty is on the run.” Fab grinned.

  All I wanted was a shower and a margarita. Seemed liked a good idea until my stomach twinged as a reminder that two drunken evenings in a row was two too many. All this drama was turning me into a drunk. I took my phone out of my pocket and called Creole. I flashed her my phone screen so she’d know why I wasn’t putting the call on speaker phone.

  “Hey, babe,” he answered in that commanding voice that sent tingles through me.

  “Just wanted to tell you I love you.”

  Fab made a gagging noise.

  “Were you hurt?” he demanded.

  “I’m fine. Didn’t want you to forget, that’s all. Remember the old woman Fab and I are taking to court today? Well…” I relayed the events of the morning, omitting the whole ladder episode. And Brick’s reaction and brother dearest.

  “Hey, bitches,” Gill bellowed. “The door’s not unlocked, and I can’t see any sign you even tried. You’re not scamming me; I won’t pay.” His face reddened to the color of a ripe tomato. The dogs hung back, no longer at his side. “Is she at least dead? I’ll need her will and other documents.”

  “Whoever that is better not be talking to you two,” Creole bristled. “Get the hell out of there,” he said as Gill approached, yelling obscenities.

  I signaled to Fab, and we jumped back in the SUV. Fab gunned the engine as Gill reached the front of the SUV, thinking to block us from leaving.

  “Don’t hit the dogs,” I said.

  Fab drew her gun and pointed it between Gill’s eyes. He covered his face and slowly stepped out of the way. Fab left a pair of tire marks in her wake, jumped the curb, and took off down the street.

  “Fab was her usual impressive self,” I told Creole. “In another minute, we’ll be halfway home.”

  “Text me the address. I’ll take care of this. You two go back to the boat, and hopefully, by the time you get there, I’ll have answers for you.” He hung up.

  “It’s handled.” I put my phone on the console. “Ignore Brick until Creole calls back. We both know this isn’t our fault; let’s hope Brick agrees. You might want to mention that if we don’t get extra pay, we’ll sic the boyfriends on him.”

  * * *

  It took a couple of hours for Creole to call back. Fab and I were back on the boat by then, and she was annoying me, wearing a hole in the carpet, pacing back and forth. Brick had called her twice since she sent him a text that we were waiting for a call from the sheriff’s department. He didn’t want law enforcement involved, but he backed off when she informed him that Creole had called while Gill was ranting at us, hearing every crazy word out of the man’s mouth.

  Creole finally called back. “Sad news. Your Ms. Gill is dead. Called in a favor because I’m nowhere near the area, and she was found in her bed, television on, no signs of foul play. Pretty good way to go. Oh yeah.” He half-laughed. “The brother thought he was going to loot the house in front of the cops, and they threw him off the property and told him not to come back without court authority or risk arrest.” He sent a kiss through the phone.

  I relayed the news to Fab.

  Fab called Brick, who had already heard from Carter Gill. He yelled from the start of the call. Fab held her phone away from her ear, shaking her head. Finally, she turned off the phone and threw it on the table.

  Chapter Eight

  “Isn’t it just a little weird that Carbine didn’t show up for court
today?” Fab asked as we took the stairs down three floors to the exit of the Miami-Dade courthouse, bypassing the elevator, not wanting to ride with a hoard of people.

  “I’m just happy he lost and I get my house back.”

  Fab and I had arrived early, cooling our heels outside the assigned courtroom. We watched every time the elevators doors opened, expecting Carbine to appear. When he didn’t show up on time, the judge moved the case to last on the docket. Neither Fab nor I had any patience for sitting; we paced the hallway and waited for our lawyer to call us inside. To say Ms. Hayley wasn’t happy about the delay was an understatement. “Damn Campion, he owes me big for this.”

  The judge called Ms. Hayley to the bench and fired questions at her, which she answered competently. His clerk handed him a file that he flipped through before dismissing the case.

  I had to hand it to Ms. Hayley and her investigator; they’d unearthed a lot of dirt on Carbine’s business activities, and the man had been involved in a laundry list of illegal schemes. He was a nightmare for landlords, as he had a reputation for being a professional non-paying renter. According to court documents, he frequently pushed evictions to a court date, like today, then pulled a no-show and disappeared before the sheriff showed up with the eviction notice.

  “Case dismissed,” the judge said, followed by the bang of his gavel. I released a huge sigh of relief. Even Fab appeared less tense.

  Fab waited in the hall while I thanked the lawyer. In the parking lot, Fab and I argued about where the SUV was parked until she hit the car alarm, and it turned out that we were closer than we’d thought.

  “I wish Carbine was headed to jail.” I kicked off my heels as Fab used a back exit to get to the street.

  Since the whole area was crawling with law enforcement, Fab backed off the gas and drove within the speed limit. I didn’t mention that her driving no longer made sick. Why spur her to new dramatics?

  Why Carbine had picked my house, I’d never know. The man had certainly moved in with his ducks all in a row. He’d thought, with his phony paperwork, that he’d be able to stay for several months; he wasn’t counting on someone with legal connections. I’d like to have seen his face when the process server arrived with the Order to Appear notice in hand.

  “I heard the lawyer tell you that Carbine and his crew had a day or two before the sheriff would post the notice and we’d be rid of them.” Fab rolled down her window and gave two of Miami’s finest a thumbs up. “Let’s go by the house and check it out.”

  The girl had all the luck; she didn’t hit a single red light all the way to the Interstate.

  “Billy called earlier.” I gave her the update: “This morning while we were in court, the lot of them packed up their cars and hit the road. He kept an eagle eye out, making sure that there weren’t any attempts to carry off anything that didn’t belong to them.”

  “I drove by early yesterday morning to see if Billy was slacking.” Fab smirked.

  Just great. I shook my head.

  “I took him coffee.” She looked proud of her ruse. “I needed to find out how he planned to contain four men by himself. I met his friend, who wasn’t impressive. On my way out, Billy whispered, ‘Looks can be deceiving; I’m a good example of that.’”

  “Fabiana.” I sighed. “You’ve been here long enough to know that the so-called normal ones are the ones you need to keep your eye on, far more than those you know are nuts.”

  “Billy told me that when he first got there, he wasted no time in sitting them all down, introducing himself, and making it clear he had no tolerance for thieves, which he emphasized by pulling his gun. Thanked them for their time and went into the kitchen for a beer, lingering to judge the reaction. Not five minutes later, two of them left and never came back.”

  “I’ll be happy to go home and find them all gone.” I crossed my fingers.

  “That same night, he scared off another squatter, who’d failed to attend the meeting. When he ran into him on the side path while doing his nightly rounds, he shoved his gun in the man’s face, demanding, ‘Where’s the redhead? She owes me money.’ The man stuttered something about not knowing any redheads. Billy’s final threat was, ‘If I find out you’re lying, I’ll be back.’ The man turned around and ran to the street, and Billy heard the engine of his car start.” Fab looked disappointed that she’d missed the action.

  “Billy told me that, after Kevin threatened to have any cars hanging out into the street towed, all of them disappeared except one,” I said. “An old Ford Falcon he thought belonged to Carbine, but which was registered to an old man in the panhandle.”

  “The boat’s nice, but I’m ready to go back home.”

  * * *

  We parked in one of the beach parking lots, two blocks from the house. “We’ll start by casually walking by the front of the house, then double back around and cut through the path into the pool area.” Turning the corner, Fab poked me. “Those are police cars parked in your driveway.”

  “Does it take two deputies to post a notice?” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Billy. The call went to voicemail. Putting my hands on Fab’s shoulders, I turned her around. “We don’t need to get caught lurking around. “

  Fab grabbed my hand and steered me onto a shortcut to the sand. We blended into a crowd that had gathered there. A coroner’s van had pulled into the parking lot, and the attendants were in the process of unloading a gurney. I knew without asking that Fab would follow them. I grabbed the back of her shirt and twisted it into a knot, holding tight. “Oh no you don’t. Someone is dead, and we don’t need to get in the middle of the drama. We get in enough trouble without following it.”

  For once, Fab didn’t disagree, and we raced back to the SUV.

  As soon as the doors closed, my phone rang. “It’s Mother.” I answered, putting the call on speaker.

  “Where are you?” Mother asked, sounding a bit frantic, before I could utter a greeting. “Are you in Tarpon?”

  “We’re close by. You okay?”

  “Come straight to the boat,” she ordered. “Do not stop anywhere. I know you can hear me, Fab; no speeding.”

  Fab and I exchanged “what’s up?” looks.

  “We were going to stop and get some food. Do you want anything?”

  “I’ll take care of the food.” Mother hung up.

  Fab pulled out onto the highway, cutting across the median to the lanes going to the other side of the Cove.

  “Madeline must be in trouble.” Fab knew every shortcut in town and took the one down to the docks. “Maybe she’s being held at gunpoint for something we did. But we’ve been angels lately.”

  I laughed and stared out the window. Angels, indeed!

  Minutes later, Fab flew into the parking lot at the marina. “We need to get our guns out of the back,” she reminded me.

  Courthouses take a dim view of people who try to get through security with firearms. Creole had put a locked box in the back of the SUV that held our guns for those special occasions. It fit inside the spare tire compartment.

  “Do we run down the dock, guns raised, ready to shoot at the slightest movement?” I scoped out the parking lot. Another quiet day, not a lot of cars. We’d parked in the front row, a couple of spaces from the walkway.

  Fab handed me my holstered gun, and I attached it to my waistband, positioning it in the small of my back. We both changed our shoes.

  “I’m going to carry mine behind my purse.”

  Mother almost ran up the dock, meeting up with us just inside the gate. “Hurry up, before someone sees you.”

  “Are we going to need our guns?”

  “You thought I was in trouble; that’s sweet.” Mother smiled.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked.

  “Madison Elizabeth.” Mother turned, hands on her hips.

  If I weren’t
a grown adult, I’d be worried I was about to be grounded.

  “You’re in for a lecture now,” Fab whispered.

  “It’s Fab’s fault.” I pointed a finger at my friend. “She’s a bad influence.”

  “You could give me a warning when the bus is coming so I can jump out of the way.” Fab yanked on the end of my hair.

  “There would be zero fun in that.”

  Spoon stood at the bottom of the steps up to his boat, holding his hand out to Mother. He nodded to Fab and I and grinned.

  “You must be in on whatever is going on, Big Guy. If we worried for nothing, I’ll ask my friend here to shoot you. Lucky you; she rarely does anything I ask,” I said.

  “I haven’t shot anyone in a while; I wouldn’t want to get rusty.”

  “You two are not funny.” He scowled.

  Fab and I laughed at him as we climbed aboard.

  “Where’s the food?” I looked at the table for some familiar packaging.

  “Creole’s on his way, and he’s picking it up,” Mother said.

  “Stinkin’ hamburgers,” Fab yelled. “That’s all he ever gets.”

  Mother pinned Fab with a glare. “I’m sure that by the time he gets here, you’ll have calmed down.”

  I put my arm around Fab and led her to the back bench. “Cheer up. You know Didier probably left something slimy and green in the refrigerator.” I looked over her shoulder. “I see something that’s going to make you happy,” I said and pointed behind her.

  Creole and Didier were walking up the deck, Roscoe’s bags in their hands. “The best burgers in the Keys.” Fab’s prophecy had come true; it would be burgers and fries for our late lunch.

  Fab jumped up from the bench and awaited Didier at the top of the stairs.

  Creole passed out individual bags while Mother distributed drinks and glared once again at Fab, setting an iced tea on the table in front of her.

  I had a bad feeling when no one uttered a word about why Fab and I had been summoned and the guys had showed up.