Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise

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Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise Page 12

by Deborah Brown


  “This is Harlot,” he introduced.

  “Let me guess, you named her?” I snorted. “I assume that she’s not grossly overweight, but pregnant?”

  Why me?

  “According to the vet, she’ll be making me a papa in a couple of weeks,” Crum beamed down at her.

  “Are you competent enough to care for an animal?” I heard the truck doors slam twice behind me.

  He sneered. “My IQ is far higher than yours.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re capable of taking care of a cat.” I stroked the fur around Harlot’s head and ears. She purred in contentment. “There are cat rules. I will be back tomorrow with the list in writing. Which you will sign.”

  He straightened his spine more than usual. “Hello, Madame,” he bowed to Carlotta, shoving Harlot in to my arms.

  “Carlotta will be staying for a few days. If any thuggish-looking men show up, hand her over. No one is to get hurt.” I pointed to Crum. “No complaining. Any problems, give me a call.”

  I felt momentarily sorry for Carlotta and then recovered my senses. “This place was completely renovated by my brother. He just got a favorable write-up in a big travel magazine. Whatever nefarious plans you’re cooking up cannot be done from here.”

  “Come with me,” Crum held out his arm. “I’ll give you the grand tour. We have a hot tub,” he winked at her.

  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” she whined.

  “Boss Lady here says no naked swimming. I’ll give you one of my t-shirts.” He smiled at her, eyeing her like a delectable morsel.

  “Here.” I gave Harlot back. “Cats aren’t allowed outside. Nothing good comes from that. One more thing. Harlot gets fixed as soon as the vet says it can be done.”

  “We have to leave.” Creole put his arm around me and steered me back to the truck. “Both of you stay out of trouble,” he called back over his shoulder. “Bet you a dollar they do something horizontal.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed. “If they do, I hope one of them doesn’t have a heart attack.”

  “Do you ever say, ‘no’ to these crazy-ass people?” Creole laughed.

  “Not often enough. I used to be worse but I’m getting better at it. I need a good twelve-step.” I nuzzled my face in his neck. “Let’s go to your house and have noisy sex.”

  Chapter 23

  The front door of Jake’s was locked at this early hour. Though if it were open, I found myself thinking, I bet we’d draw the breakfast drinking crowd. I cut around the back through the kitchen. Creole dropped me off after I spent the night with him at his beach hideaway. Fab would be here any minute to pick me up. The coffee at Jake's wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a caramel latte either.

  I waved to the cook and made my way to the bar where I knew I’d find a bowl of snack mix. It surprised me to see Phil, who was hours early for her shift.

  “Hey Boss, I got a surprise for you,” she flashed a smirky smile.

  I jumped at the banging on the front door.

  “Stop that, Fabiana Merceau!” I yelled.

  “What? You can see through solid doors now?” Phil chuckled.

  I shook my head. “Who else? And she's so early.” I jerked the keys off the top of the bar and unlocked the door.

  “Took you long enough.” Fab pushed her way past me.

  I grabbed the back of her shirt. “Do you mind waiting outside? Phil has a surprise for me.”

  Phil laughed, leaning her elbows on the bar. She found the drama as amusing as I did.

  Fab jerked away and slid onto a bar stool. “What surprise?” she growled. “Is the coffee made?” She slid over the top of the bar, trying to reach a mug.

  Phil held her arms out as far as they would go. “So big, I couldn’t wrap it.”

  “For all the hype, it better be good.” I eyed her skeptically. Surprises had a tendency to be overrated.

  She wiggled her fingers for Fab and I to follow her down the hall, back in the direction of the kitchen. She stopped in front of the little-used office door. It was a small, windowless, cramped space. Phil took a key out of her pocket and unlocked a padlock that the door never had before.

  “Surprise,” she said as she threw the door open.

  I peered around and started to laugh when I saw my ex-husband stretched out on the couch.

  “About time,” he grumbled. “What a stink hole this is. Do you know anyone who’s not crazy?” he asked me.

  “This surprise sucks,” Fab said.

  I raised my eyebrows at Phil.

  “You said you wanted to talk to him––here he is. That’s another service I offer––dickhead locator.” Phil grinned.

  “Where did you find him?” Fab asked.

  “Down on the docks, working on old man Grimes’s boat. I told him he was wasting his time; the old goat didn’t pay,” Phil told us.

  “I’m hungry,” Jax said. “I can cook us up some breakfast.”

  Fab and Phil disappeared back to the bar.

  I held out my hand. “This office is too small for one person. I thought you’d call me,” I said to him. “Have you been okay?”

  He hugged me. “Can we talk after food?”

  “You cook, and I’ll set a table out on the deck,” I said. “The corner one is my office. Phil didn’t hurt you, did she?”

  “I came pretty willingly after she offered a blow job. The next thing I knew, she had me in handcuffs and pushed me into her SUV. Thought she was a cop, asked what’s the crime? I didn’t offer any money. Then she told me her real agenda. I was pissed, but I had no choice except to go along.”

  “Don’t run out the back door, or I’ll send Fab after you.” I raised my eyebrows; he had no idea that that was her area of expertise, manhandling reluctant people to do as they were told.

  I filled up a cart with dishes, orange juice, coffee, and bottled water and wheeled it to the deck. I loved setting a table. If this breakfast had been planned, I’d have come up with table decorations. I switched on the lights that framed the railing and the overhead ceiling fans. The skies had darkened, and thunder could be heard in the distance.

  Phil carried out a platter of fruit. Jax followed behind her with a large frying pan. He’d made my favorite — a frittata, similar to a pancake, baked with vegetables and cheese. He cut it like a pizza and served us before he sat down.

  Jax lost his grumpy attitude and turned on the charm, pouring juice and coffee.

  “Why am I here?” Jax asked as he slid into the chair next to me.

  “You won’t answer your phone or return calls. How else were we supposed to chat?”

  “Don’t smile at me,” Fab growled at Jax.

  He laughed. “You’re hot until you open your mouth.”

  Fab shoved her chair back.

  “You sit down.” I pointed at Fab. “Try not to provoke her into shooting you,” I said to Jax. “Tell me why you really showed up in the Cove.”

  “Seemed innocent enough at the time. I got a one-time gig to drive a moving truck across the country. A longtime friend, Jones Graw, was relocating to Colorado.”

  Fab whipped out her phone. “Dickhead, tell us more about your friend, Jones Graw?” She waited until Jax took a bite of food before showing him the picture of the dead man.

  Jax stared at the picture. It took a minute for him to realize that he was only looking at his dearly departed friend’s head. Jax's face drained of color and he looked away. “Who kills someone like that?”

  “Any clue as to why Jones is missing his head. Or torso, however you want to look at it?” I asked.

  “Turns out there was more than old furniture being transported. Once I got clued in, I upped my price. My sweet little money-making opportunity blew up in my face when Jones disappeared.”

  “I’m going to make a leap and assume you were moving something illegal,” I said.

  “Weed’s legal now.”

  “Not in this state it isn’t,” I huffed in exasperation. “Any other players?” I asked.<
br />
  He fidgeted in his seat, staring out at the water.

  Fab, ready to beat him, stayed seated and glared.

  “Rod Tanner. I haven’t seen him since right after I heard about Jones being dead.” Jax looked rattled. “Graw told me all arrangements were made through Rod.”

  Phil scribbled the man’s name on the back of a napkin.

  “Any idea of the current location for this other guy?” Fab asked.

  “Aren’t you the slightest bit worried that one of your business partners is dead? Is someone looking for you next? If so, hanging around here won’t prolong your life.”

  “I’m not going back to South Carolina until this is over. I don’t want to bring trouble home to my family,” Jax said, lost in thought. “I need a new plan.”

  The questioning came to a halt as a relentless banging on the front door started. It could be heard even over the pouring rain that had just begun to beat on the roof. It wasn’t Fab, as she sat across from me... so this couldn’t be good.

  “Open up!” a man’s voice yelled.

  Phil flew behind the bar, grabbing up the Mossberg shotgun. Fab and I drew our guns.

  “Do you know how to use that?” Jax raised his eyebrows.

  “We’re closed,” Phil called, racking the rifle.

  “We don’t want any trouble. We’re looking for Jax Devereaux,” the man said.

  “No one here by that name,” Phil yelled back.

  I pulled Jax over to the stairs.

  “At the bottom, make a right. It lets out on the beach. Keep in touch. You can send a message through Mac at The Cottages.”

  He kissed my cheek and murmured his thanks.

  Half way down the stairs, he hurled himself over the banister, jumping to the deck before he took off running.

  The banging stopped. Complete silence from the other side of the door. The three of us stared at one another.

  “You two lay low.” Phil picked up the phone and reported an attempted break-in.

  “I’ll sneak around the front, see what’s going on,” Fab said. “We could go out and hide in my office until it’s all clear.”

  “Nice lighthouse,” Phil nodded. “Stolen?”

  “Why do people keep asking that?” Fab huffed. “It’s not like you can stuff it in your pocket.”

  Phil and I laughed.

  Chapter 24

  Fab and I tried to sneak across the parking lot. We had almost made it, when Crum and Carlotta came around the back of the lighthouse, arm in arm.

  I did a double-take. Fab made a retching noise. Watching the two of them walk toward us sent a little shiver through me. They looked normal enough, but anyone who knew them would be scared. Crum had dressed up today in a pair of boxer shorts. Maybe Carlotta would be a good influence. If I had to put money on it, I would have bet heavily that she wouldn’t be seen dead with him if she weren’t desperate. Made me wonder what she was up to.

  “Good morning,” Crum said, looking rather pleased with himself.

  “Do you suppose they’re banging?” Fab whispered.

  I tried to elbow her, but she saw it coming and moved away.

  “How were your accommodations?” I asked Carlotta, knowing she’d never been in a trailer in her life before last night.

  I also doubted that she’d appreciate the hard work my brother had put into making the place into a happening tourist spot. Judging by the out of town license plates in the parking lot, the Trailer Court had been sold out again last night.

  “The professor was positively delightful,” she crooned up at him. “He made me feel quite welcome. He gives the best foot rubs.”

  Rendered speechless, I just stared.

  Fab burst out laughing.

  Crum cleared his throat. “I have two bedrooms, and I thought a woman of her stature shouldn’t be by herself.”

  I wondered how much Carlotta had shared about herself, but I refrained from asking.

  Carlotta giggled at him.

  “Have you figured out your future plans after a good night’s sleep?” I asked.

  The two of them looked at one another and blushed, looking guilty. I sighed and hoped they wouldn’t get caught horizontal by her son. I’d love to see the look on Carmine’s face if Crum said, “You can call me Daddy.”

  “The professor and I are going to discuss my options. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve made my decision,” she said haughtily.

  One thing the two had in common––that same condescending personality.

  At the top of my mental to-do list: call Brick and find out what was going on before this situation blew up in my face.

  “Where’s Harlot?” I asked.

  “I found a… a friend gave me an old couch cushion, and I turned it into a bed for her. She’s asleep in the sun on the enclosed porch.”

  I tried not to laugh at his BS story about his ”friend”. Wait until Carlotta found out that the esteemed professor dug around in the trash for that couch cushion.

  Chapter 25

  “You know how you like surprises?” Fab asked.

  Once I got in the SUV and the door locks clicked down, I knew we were headed somewhere I didn’t want to go.

  “I don’t and you know that.” I never seriously entertained jumping from a moving vehicle, and hoped I wouldn’t regret not taking that foolhardy leap.

  “I’m taking you to lunch––at The Whale.”

  Her toothy smile raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

  I suddenly knew why. “We’re confronting Kelsey James? Do you have your game day plan? Or is this why I'm being railroaded, to come up with something plausible before we get to Fort Lauderdale?”

  “I thought we’d use a good cop/bad cop approach.”

  “You need me to be the nice person.” I smirked.

  I rolled down the window. The salty smell of the Atlantic blew across my face, another reminder of why I never regretted relocating to South Florida. The drive along Ocean Boulevard, although heavily trafficked in certain places, never got old. I craned my neck to watch the crystal blue waters crashing onto the white sand.

  The restaurant was a nondescript building across the street from the ocean. It was a gorgeous day, baby blue skies, a few fluffy clouds, and there wasn’t a vacant chair on the outside patio.

  Fab pulled into a parking space next to a white jeep. She looked in the rearview mirror. Kelsey James was in the parking lot, a lucky blow for us.

  “Right on time,” she said. She jumped out and I followed.

  Fab leaned against the driver’s side door of the woman’s car. “We have a few questions about Horton King.”

  The blonde woman wiggled her way across the driveway in barely-covering-butt-cheek jean shorts and a filmy hot pink top to match the ends of her hair. Kelsey didn’t look happy. According to her driver’s license, she'd just turned thirty.

  I reached back into the Hummer and drew Fab’s “police” badge out of my purse. Hopefully, Fab wouldn’t ask how I came to be in possession of it, so I wouldn’t have to admit to borrowing it and playing a little game with Creole. At first he wasn’t amused, but he came around when he figured out what I had in mind. He did warn me against impersonating law enforcement, but there was no harm in letting people think what they want, even if it is incorrect.

  Kelsey spotted us from a dozen paces away, a scowl lining her features.

  “I don’t know what you want, and I don’t care. Now move.” Kelsey tried to reach around Fab to get in the Jeep.

  “We could go and wait at your trailer, ask Gibbs a few of our questions.” Fab smiled, but it wasn’t friendly.

  “You’re lame,” she laughed. “My husband and I are simpatico. He knows everything there is to know about me. Tell him whatever you want. I’ll call you out as the liar that you are, and he’ll whoop your ass and toss you to the curb.”

  “He knows you’ve had a dozen men arrested on bogus charges?”

  “That many? Men can’t hit women and get away with it.”
She clucked her tongue. “As long as I don’t press charges against him, he couldn’t care less.”

  Kelsey turned to walk away and Fab grabbed her arm.

  “Drop the charges.”

  She shrugged out of Fab’s hold.

  “Aww, is Mr. Good Guy afraid of a little jail time?” Kelsey wiped a non-existent tear from her eye. “A good lawyer will get the charges dismissed when I don’t show up to testify. Out of my way, bitch.”

  “Do it now.” I flashed the badge. “Or I’ll drag every man you ever accused into court, and you’ll be forced under court order to testify. Then you’ll be on the receiving end of being charged with a felony or two and have a re-acquaintance with jail.”

  “You can’t prove Horton didn’t hit me.”

  A dark-haired man in dress pants and a dress shirt called, “Hey Kelsey,” and waved.

  I noticed his name badge, but his clothes were too expensive to be a waiter. The leather loafers cost more than a server would make in a month, so I took a leap.

  “Your boss? Does he know you were fired from your last job for stealing? The job before that, you cleaned out the cash register on the way out the door?”

  “Gibbs has a job, too. How about we show up there to ask a few questions about his wife and other men?” Fab asked.

  “I’ll give the prosecutor a call. Satisfied?” She walked around to the passenger’s side, unlocking the door.

  Fab, right behind her, handed her a business card.

  “This is a lawyer who’s expecting your call. No charge to you. If he doesn’t hear from you in the next two days, we won’t be back; we’ll introduce ourselves to Gibbs instead.”

  Kelsey jerked the card from Fab's fingers and got in the car. After slamming the door and crawling into the driver’s seat, she backed out of the parking lot, giving us the finger.

  Fab and I pulled out behind her and went in the opposite direction.

  “You know what I noticed?” Not waiting for an answer, I continued. “She never said, 'but he beat me, bruised me', whatever. That’s what I would’ve said. I probably would've thrown in some real tears, too. Getting worked over black and blue is a hideous experience.”

 

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