Trouble in Paradise

by Brown, Deborah

  “Where did you find those sunglasses?” I asked her. They were huge, purple with crystals around the frames, covering three-quarters of her face. Mac’s outfit was color coordinated to match her sunglasses. Her enormous boobs looked like they’d gasp for breath if they could, as they were stuffed inside a children’s top.

  “I got them at Heaven’s.” Mac turned her head side to side. “Dingo has fun stuff. Besides, incognito looks good on me.”

  “Dingo sells drug paraphernalia and gift items for stoners,” I reminded her. All of Dingo’s customers wore large sunglasses and caps pulled down while inside his store. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s quiet today. Liam’s lying out by the pool, playing games on his phone.”

  Liam is my favorite tenant; fourteen going on thirty, full of himself in a fun way, never in any trouble and didn’t call for rides home from the jail.

  Mac picked up her book and sighed.

  I thought Mac was acting weirder than usual; nervous, and not making eye contact.

  I wandered over to the recently renovated pool area, with its new chairs and loungers, the cushions permanently attached this time so they don’t disappear down the street. Months back I replaced the ugly old cedar fence with a wrought iron one that gives an unobstructed view of the Gulf. A tiki bar wrapped with white Christmas lights fills the far corner. I refuse to replace the bar stools since, short of anchoring them with concrete bolts, they’d disappear like their friends the cushions.

  “What are you up to?” I opened the gate, sitting down next to Liam. I swear he was taller than a few days ago. He’d taken up cross-country, and his thin frame had filled out with muscle.

  “I’m looking at pictures on this dating website.” He held up his cell phone.

  “How are you going to explain that you’re a teenager when your date shows up?”

  “It’s not for me.” Liam laughed. “I’m looking for my mom.”

  “If you don’t believe anything else I tell you, this would be the time to listen: Julie’s not going to like this.” His mom, Julie Cory, another favorite tenant, is a voice actress who regularly entertains me with different characters she constantly makes up. She recently booked a morning cartoon show. “I thought Julie was dating someone.”

  “He creeped Mom out. When he walked through the door, he had ‘one date’ written on his forehead. Kevin fixed her up with a guy that ran his own crime scene cleanup business. They weren’t all murder victims though, some of them suicides, but all dead.”

  “She’s a good catch, she’ll find someone soon.”

  “It would be nice if the guy wasn’t a bag of trouble.” Liam shook his head. “Thanks for your help in getting rid of the last one. Mom never said anything but I know she was relieved that he left one day and never came back. I asked Slice to make sure he didn’t steal anything on his way out.”

  “Thank goodness for friends like Slice.” Slice recently partnered with Zach at AZL with the title ‘Chief Muscle,’ in charge of keeping corporate clients safe. His sheer size is intimidating enough; a solid wall of brute force. Even more menacing, though, is the scar that runs down the side of his face to the top of his collarbone.

  “What are you looking for in a potential boyfriend?” I brushed his blond hair out of his eyes.

  “You know… doctor, lawyer, Indian Chief.”

  “Indian Chief?” I nudged his shoulder. “Where are you going to find one of those?”

  “Last weekend, Mom took me to the Everglades for a swamp buggy ride. Turns out it’s on tribal land. Chief Chester filled in for his two brothers who were home puking. He took us for an extra-long ride, told the best stories, and he and Mom got along good. Afterward he sprung for hot dogs at the Swamp Coach.”

  “Don’t tell me you contacted him.” I groaned.

  “Just an email. Told him my mom was available, and sent her picture in case he forgot what she looked like.”

  “Does Julie know?” Hopefully, she’d never find out. “You’ve got to stop now.”

  “He just emailed back, he’s married. He should wear a ring. We had such a great time, and I thought he acted interested. Don’t tell Kevin.” Kevin is his sheriff uncle; a straight arrow.

  “Did you like the Glades?” I moved to the edge of the pool and stuck my feet in the water.

  “Way cool. We’re going back for the airboat ride. We stopped at the alligator farms on the way back.” The airboats had a distinctive ear splitting sound, powered by automobile engines that propel the boats through the murky waters of alligator alley.

  I’d been to that farm and wasn’t enamored with alligators; I never understood the, ‘don’t pet the alligator’ signs. ‘Stay away from them’ was my motto. I didn’t like them in person, food, or shoes. The Glades creeped me out; the tall grasses, super-sized bugs, most of them with cousins that fly, and reptiles that feed on humans. Not to mention a person could scream back in there and no one would hear. No thank you.

  “How about my brother, Brad? He doesn’t fit into any of your categories but he’s a nice guy and available. He lacks the cachet of being a Native American but he’s pretty cool and he lives in the Glades.”

  “Why’s he available?”

  I splashed him with water. “There’s nothing wrong with him. But like your mom, he needs help finding a girlfriend.”

  “I need to interview him.”

  “You can’t take my word that he’s a catch?” I said, slightly offended. “We’ll never get these two out on a date if they find out they’re in for a fix up. If you need an interview, I suggest you call your potential grandmother and enlist her help; she loves to ambush her children with potential mates. My brother’s pretty normal. The wild card in the family is my mother, Madeline. She’s the one you want to interview before green lighting this dinner.”

  “I’d like a grandmother. I only have a grandfather and he lives out in California, so I only see him during summer vacation.”

  “Talk to Mother. You’ll like her. She might teach you how to smoke one of her Cubans.” I stood, shaking my skirt that got wet from kicking my feet in the water. “I’m going to stop at Joseph’s.”

  “How freaking cool is that?” Liam pretended to smoke an invisible cigar. “He’s out with his girlfriend. Did you know he hooked up with his first grade teacher?”

  “Girlfriend? She must be old.” Joseph was one of my aunt’s first tenants. A Viet Nam war veteran with health problems, he had a ‘screw you’ attitude when doctors told him he was on borrowed time.

  Liam laughed. “She’s a hundred years old, bossy and tells him what to do. Joseph was way more fun before her. She got mad when she caught him teaching me how to blow spit.”

  “That spit blowing thing is a useful skill.” Okay, so I never blew spit but I could blow my gum across a busy highway.

  “I’m going to preapprove Brad, just because I’ll get an aunt out of this.”

  “Wait until my mother meets you. She’ll be planning a shotgun wedding.” I held my hand out, palm up, and wriggled my fingers. Liam handed me his phone and I dialed the number without even looking. “Mother, I found you a grandchild. I’m going to put Liam Cory on, and you two can scheme how to get Brad and his mother, Julie, together.”

  “Is she nice?” Mother asked.

  “You remember the hot blonde at Elizabeth’s funeral?” I didn’t wait for an answer, handed Liam the phone, and waved good-bye.

  No doubt in my mind, Mother would like Liam and they’d be scheming together in half a minute. Grover sat by the back door of the SUV, patiently waiting to go for another ride.

  Mac came around the side of the building, letting out a loud whistle. “This is for you!” she yelled, holding up an envelope, catching up with me.

  “What’s this for?” I did a double take; the envelope was stuffed with one-hundred dollar bills.

  “Creole came by and paid his rent a year in advance. I told him to get a money order and he laughed in my face.” Mac tossed her brow
n hair and the girls followed. “Refused to take the money back and told me to take it up with Boss Lady which, I’m sure, is you. He a drug dealer?”

  “Mark his unit paid and I’ll deposit this into the cottage account. Tell him if the police come around one time asking for him, he moves, no whining and no refund.” That would make him laugh since, as an undercover officer, they might haul him away but he’d never see booking. My aunt had rented him a cottage with the knowledge that it would be used as an undercover pad. Her friends were my friends and I honored her IOUs.

  “Why are the ones that drip sex a big bag of trouble?” asked Mac.

  “Here’s my tip: Don’t date anyone better looking than you, and then you don’t have to fight over the mirror.”

  Mac squinted at me and laughed. “There’s one more thing.”

  I held out my hand. “Another envelope of cash?”

  “They’re crazy.” Mac downed her energy drink and crushed the can flat in one stomp.

  The last group of guests had all been snowbirds from Canada and they left. They came for the sunshine while back at their homes the ground was frozen solid. Our newest ones had only checked in a day or two ago. That left the regulars and crazy meant I could draw straws. “Could you be more specific? Start at the beginning.”

  “The Shiners.”

  I groaned. “What now?” Kibble and Barbie Shiner, a redneck blond Barbie doll and her whale-sized husband, were a slick couple who’d overstayed their welcome.

  “Barbie started a bar fight last night at Custer’s and then slipped out the back. It didn’t take long before the bar scum showed up here and a fight erupted in the driveway. The sheriffs had to break it up.”

  Custer’s is a rat hole bar, in a prime location on Gulf Boulevard that only sold screw top beer and wine. Higher powers worked against Custer getting a full liquor license, and then the county stepped in and banned him from serving food several years back. He could never get the necessary permits to gut the kitchen.

  “Did we get lucky and the sheriffs arrest both her and Kibble?” I asked.

  “They disappeared thirty seconds before the law arrived. Barbie snuck around Cottage Eight and out of sight with her girlfriend Angie in tow. Kibble hid out behind the tiki bar in the pool area.”

  “At least the Shiners will be out of here this weekend.” They were a good example of why we needed to be more discerning to whom we rented weekly.

  “Not exactly. I gave them the wrong agreement, and had them sign the long-term one by mistake. Since they’ve been here for a month and are current on payments, we have to give them a thirty-day notice.” Mac’s words came out in a rush.

  “How long have you known this gem?”

  “For a while. I begged every higher power not to have to tell you. My plan was that I’d get really lucky and they’d move.”

  “Post the notice.” It annoyed me that Mac’s sixth sense of ferreting out lowlifes had failed her on these two. “I’ll go talk to them.”

  Mac sighed. “Kibble and I had a chat. He informed me if we tried to evict him he’d tear the place apart. Those two are crafty and we should do this by the book. They have a baby,” she blurted.

  “As in child? Where did they get it?”

  “They didn’t think it important to tell me Barbie popped out Kibble Jr. six months ago. He’s a good baby. I only found out the other day when Angie had him outside putting him in his stroller. She’s got a big mouth, babbling about stuff that no one wants to hear.”

  Grover was done chasing bugs, so he came up and laid his head on my foot.

  “When are you going to find Grover a home?” Mac asked.

  “Look at him. Does he look like he wants to go anywhere, except for another ride around town?” I rubbed his back. “The Shiners are moving. I’ll have one of Spoon’s felons serve the notice.”

  Jimmy Spoon and Mother were friendly. I couldn’t bring myself to use the word ‘dating.’ Spoon spent time in prison and when he got out with the help of a mentor, he turned his life around. Now he returned the favor by staffing his appointment-only auto body shop with recently paroled felons. I wasn’t sure his business was one hundred percent legit and never asked. Ignorance had its perks. All his employees looked the same: big, mean looking and of few words. None, if any, had visible signs of a sense of humor. Not even Kibble was stupid enough to mess with any of them.

  “Other than the Shiners, it’s all quiet around here.” Mac looked nervous. “At least Joseph hasn’t been arrested lately.”

  “I would be the first person to know that, since I’m Joseph’s free call for a ride home from the jail.” All his arrests were drunk related and confirmed his inability to stay out of trouble long enough to get off probation. On occasion, I took him to probation appointments and court hearings. Joseph had the best connections for information on Cove residents.

  “This morning I helped Miss January into her cottage after I found her laying on her porch passed out drunk.”

  “You’re going soft.” Miss January was another inherited tenant; a good-hearted harmless drunk who lived inside a vodka bottle, coming out only to smoke cheap cigarettes. The doctor’s informed her that her permanent checkout date had passed two years ago and yet she continued to stumble through life.

  “Here comes more trouble.” Mac pointed to the two sheriff’s cars that zipped into the driveway. “They travel in packs now. Wait until you meet Kevin’s new partner. He’s a real dickass.”

  Kevin motioned me with his finger. “Hi, Kev. I hope this isn’t an official call.” I stood face to face with the new guy.

  “Officer Johnson,” he introduced himself. He didn’t extend his hand, which suited my no hand shaking policy. “This is a courtesy call to make sure there aren’t any more problems after last night’s disturbance.”

  “All is quiet.” Terrible first impression, I disliked him already, a tight-ass, stick up the butt look.

  “This isn’t a social call. You need to get your tenants under control. Nuisance calls are a waste of taxpayer’s money. If you can’t, thanks to the voters, we have the option of taking you to court and force a sale.” Johnson poked his finger at me twice.

  “If you’re going to threaten me, I’ll need my lawyer present.” I contemplated the satisfaction of jerking his finger in a twist but the thought of jail provided the sanity I needed.

  “No need for a lawyer,” Kevin intervened. “We have a new captain and money’s scarce. He’s tightening the budget, and cutting wasteful spending, such as chronic nuisance calls.”

  “You’re here all the time, Kevin, visiting Julie. You know the Shiners are a new problem. Mac and I are in the process of kicking them down the drive. Believe me I want them gone as much as you do.”

  “We’d like to look around,” Officer Johnson informed me.

  “Let me call my lawyer,” I said. “I like to do things all legal like.”

  “Come on, let’s go,” Kevin said to his partner. “Everything’s quiet. Doesn’t look like anyone’s home around here.”

  Officer Johnson glared at me and walked back to his patrol car.

  “Can’t you play nice with the new guy?” Kevin whispered when Johnson was out of earshot.

  “He sucks at first impressions.”

  Kevin sniffed. “I drew the short straw when it came to Johnson as my new partner. He doesn’t give a crap about getting along. He’s all about the rules, has them memorized. There’s no controlling him. You’re already on his bad side so expect another visit.”

  “What did I do?”

  Kevin shook his head. “You’re nice to every weirdo in town and this one you can’t schmooze for five minutes.”

  “I’ll just tell Spoon.”

  “No you won’t,” Kevin warned.

  “Oh calm down. Where’s your sense of humor?”

  “Johnson gets on my nerves too; everyone’s avoiding me. No free donuts at Kick’s gas station, thanks to him. Gotta go. Guess he’s going to sit in the driveway u
ntil I leave. Say hi to my sis for me.”

  “Thanks, Kevin.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Before meeting up with Fab, I dropped Grover off at home. He leaped to the ground from the SUV and ran around the back of the house. Even he knew about the secret entrance. The drive from my house to The Bakery Café was a short one. I pulled into a parking space in the front, where Fab had snagged our favorite people-watching table on the sidewalk. Waiting for me was a caramel latte and pecan roll. They had an incredible selection of baked goods and pastries that were hard to ignore.

  “Look at this.” Fab handed me a flyer with Grover’s picture. “Says here he’s been missing from Pigeon Key for the last three months. Long way from home.”

  A tall, rail-thin older man approached our table. “Why did you tear my flyer down?”

  He definitely wasn’t one of the guys in the truck that day; both of them had been considerably younger. “How did you lose your dog?” I asked.

  He brushed his gray hair out of his face. “That’s a long story. Have you seen him? I’d appreciate any help; I’ve about given up hope.”

  Fab and I exchanged looks as if to say ‘what now?’ “Have a seat and tell us your long story,” I said.

  He extended his hand. “Tolbert Rich.”

  Fab fist bumped him. “I’m Fab and this is Madison. Was he tagged?”

  “His tag only had his name, ‘Grover.’ I’d been meaning to attach his new tag with the contact info and I didn’t. It’s still sitting on my desk.”

  “There’s a couple of dogs around here that look like the one in the pic.” I stared at the photo. “Both of them have good homes. You’d have to prove yours is better or I’m not helping.”

  “I’m not sure what exactly happened to Grover, he would never leave the property on his own. He just disappeared one day. I suspect my neighbors are somehow involved. We’ve been having a dispute.”

  “Why would your neighbors take the dog?” I asked.