Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series)

by Deborah Brown

  “Why didn’t you tell Kevin?” If Kevin found out, he’d be back yelling about Liam and Julie moving again.

  “He didn’t ask. Besides, Mom and I have an agreement. I don’t tell anyone squat until I run it by her first. She always knows the right thing to do.”

  “That’s something we have in common,” I said as I brushed his hair with my fingers. “I never tackled big troubles without my mother, and I still don’t. Like your mom, she always knows the right thing. Did you see who parked it there?”

  “Two seconds before Kev pulled in, I rode my bike by the space and saw the car. Word had already spread by then that cops were on the way. Joseph shook his head at me, which I took to mean I should keep my mouth shut.”

  “Don’t do anything Joseph tells you unless you’re sure he’s one hundred percent on the up. In fact, don’t follow anyone into trouble. ” That would be the end of Joseph; I’d show him the curb.

  “Kevin treated me like a little kid. Instead of asking, he sent me back to my cottage and ordered me to not to leave the porch.”

  I get that Kevin’s overprotective; he wants to protect his sister and nephew. But the smarter choice would be to ask the person who knows everything that goes on in the neighborhood and is much more reliable than Joseph. Liam doesn’t sugar-coat the truth. Kevin probably didn’t want to acknowledge how streetwise Liam had become.

  “Where’s Joseph now?”

  Liam pointed to the yellow house. “He’s across the street, where they smoke pot on the porch, and when they run out, they boil the stems and seeds and drink it. Have you met his new girlfriend?”

  “Please, tell me she’s nothing like the last one.” To say that I was happy to see her go would be an understatement.

  “Totally different. I’m not telling you anything until you get introduced.” Liam laughed. “There’s my mom.” He waved. “Brad docked earlier today, cleaned his boat and we’re going to dinner. I chose hotdogs on the pier.”

  “Have a great time. Tell Brad to call his sister once in a while.” I waved to Julie and cut across the drive to the office. Now that Brad had met someone he liked, he no longer scheduled back-to-back fishing trips. Once he sold off his catch, he stayed docked for a few days.

  I barely got the door closed and looked out the window just in time to see the black Mustang at the corner. The giveaway—the bashed in passenger side, which apparently didn’t impair the ability for a quick getaway.

  “Did you see that?” I pointed.

  “Who was driving?” Mac jumped as the car rounded the corner.

  “I change my mind. I didn’t see anything,” I said. “I don’t need any black Mustang drama. I know nothing and I’m very happy it’s not on the property anymore.”

  “I’m only resting my eyes, I’m not asleep.” Fab lay stretched out on the couch. “I need a ride to the airport to pick up a car for Brick.”

  “Oh good, I can practice my hot-wiring skills.” Mother and I had nagged Fab until she taught us in a group class. As usual, Mother was a much better student. What surprised me, Julie ranked up there with Mother, and I got a C.

  “We don’t have all night,” Fab sighed.

  CHAPTER 9

  “Why didn’t Fab shoot you?” I shoved another pillow under my head. Fab enjoyed pointing her gun at Zach when he snuck in like a burglar in the middle of the night.

  Zach stood at the foot of the bed and stripped off his shirt, unbuckled his belt and let his jeans slide to the floor, as efficiently as he did other things. I never tired of looking at him naked, his darkly tanned skin and well-defined muscles. “Every time I ask you when she’s moving out, you give me some vague answer that gives me hope it will happen tomorrow.”

  “Do you really want to fight before sex?”

  “No, and not after either.” He climbed onto the bed like a feral cat, leaning on one elbow, caressing my cheek and teasing my lips in a soft kiss that quickly turned hot. Zach pulled me on top of him, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

  He brushed my hair out of my face. His breath played across my cheek as his lips found the side of my neck, teeth and tongue grazing my skin, pulling me to him, kissing me hard on the mouth. His hands slid down my body, pulling my T-shirt over my head. I groaned, my pulse quickening with the rush of familiar sensations flooding my body, chasing all thoughts from my mind, fully aware without needing to be told how much Zach wanted me. It’s a mutual level of desire we feel for each other.

  * * *

  “You still here?” Fab asked Zach when we walked into the kitchen.

  Zach ignored her as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

  I motioned to Fab to take her coffee and go eavesdrop where Zach couldn’t see her. “I should’ve been upfront the first time, and all the other times you asked about Fab moving out, but I don’t like to argue. I don’t want to throw her out.” I took a quick breath to calm my racing pulse. “Besides, how can I trust you when I find out you snuck behind my back and told Mother I was working for Brick?”

  “I worry about you.” Zach gave me a lame smile. “I can’t believe your mother told on me.”

  Mother would never rat him out, since she sees an opportunity for info in the future. It only took me a second to realize it couldn’t have been anyone else. “How would you like it if I ran to your mother and told her stories to scare her and manipulate you? Oh, that’s right, I’ve never met your family. Ashamed of me?”

  “You’re making something out of nothing,” Zach’s blue eyes turned stony.

  “Why haven’t I met a single Lazarro?”

  “If I take you to a family dinner, my mother will think we’re serious. I don’t take a woman I date home to meet my parents. Or introduce you as my girlfriend, Madison. ‘We sleep together, she uses me for sex, never listens to a single word I say, and doesn’t want to commit to anything more.’”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “The hell you are. If you really were, you’d start by listening. You’re so busy minding other people’s business you’re going to end up dead. I’m leaving before we say things we can’t take back.” He threw his coffee in the sink and banged out the front door.

  Fab rushed in from the living room. “I’ll move out tomorrow.”

  Tears slid down my cheeks. “I guess I won’t be meeting his parents anytime soon. Sounds like he’s embarrassed by me.”

  “Zach Lazarro is a man who’s always in control. He tells people what to do and they jump. Let’s face it; he doesn’t have a fifty percent success rate with using that tactic on you.”

  “Don’t move out. What if one of our ex-husbands come back?” I turned the kitchen faucet on, splashing my face with water.

  “Can you imagine if they both showed up at the same time?” Fab shook her head, making a face. “Your phone’s ringing,” she said, pointing.

  “You answer and pretend you’re me.”

  “What the hell do you want?” Fab answered. “It’s for you.” She handed me the phone.

  I didn’t want to, but I took the phone and looked at the screen. “Sorry, the moral here is that you shouldn’t let Fab near your phone.”

  Creole laughed. “Good news, your Tahoe was found and towed to the police impound. I’ll text you the address for your insurance company.”

  “No more excuses. I’ll have to give back the Hummer,” I said. I missed the Tahoe but the Hummer’s a fantasy ride and when I got to drive it, I liked it a lot. “Brick will be happy.”

  “More good news—well, maybe, sorta.”

  “Fab will shoot you if you make me cry again.” I sniffed for effect.

  Fab stood next to me, listening. No one else I knew had that kind of nerve.

  “You’re going to need a new car. The Tahoe was found stripped to the frame, looks naked.”

  “Thanks for the update, seems like Fab and I both owe you.” I liked the smell of a new car and that there wouldn’t be a bunch of empty water bottles rolling around. First I’d have to submit to severe haggling
over sticker price with a salesman.

  “You’d call me if you were in trouble, wouldn’t you?” Creole asked. “I almost forgot I actually have real good news. Koozie recanted his story.”

  Fab gave me the thumbs up.

  “Aren’t you turning into a Fairy Godfather?” Thank goodness the meth lab drama had come to an end without my having to incur big lawyer bills. “How did you accomplish that?”

  “Not me, Harder. He grilled Koozie, who after declaring you a Queen Pin, didn’t know the color of your hair, and in fact, he got you mixed up with Miss January. Koozie lives at home with his mother and apparently she’s not easy to live with. He wanted to move to Mexico, grow pot, and live on the beach. Harder offered him drug rehab—a get out of town card—in exchange for some worthwhile names.”

  “Koozie’s stupid. He’ll never be able to move back into his old bedroom. Screwing drug dealers tends to shorten your life expectancy.”

  “He gave us names, dates, and other useful information on a couple of dealers we’ve had on our radar, which I’ll be using to my advantage soon,” Creole said.

  “Be careful. Don’t forget if you need a place to hide out, Casa Madison is always open.”

  “I know Fab’s listening, so ’bye to both of you.” Creole hung up.

  CHAPTER 10

  “What are you doing?” Fab asked.

  “Now that my phone’s been replaced, Brick told me to get rid of his loaner.” I grabbed a pair of scissors from a stainless steel utensil holder on the stove. I removed the back of the phone and took out the SIM card, cut it into pieces, and threw everything in the trash.

  Fab slid the Hummer keys off the counter and was half way out the door. “Let’s go check out the Tahoe. I can tell you if your insurance will pay off or fix.”

  “Then take me by Brick’s so I can negotiate keeping my ride.” I jumped in the passenger side.

  Fab revved the engine. “Buckle up.” She squealed out of the driveway. “About Brick, did you report back yet on the messy love triangle?”

  “First I dealt with Ramsey Sinclair. I called early this morning and reintroduced myself and told him showing up at his house had been a ruse.

  “I asked him, ‘Have you seen your lawyer about divorcing Mrs. Sinclair?’ ‘Mind your own damn business,’ he said to me in a snotty upper crust tone. So I said, ‘Look, don’t hang up. If you want to continue to breathe you’d better listen very carefully.’ Then I gave him a colorful description of Katy’s father and uncle. After a long drawn out silence, he told me he’d call Katy today. I told him exactly what to say. Then told him, ‘If you don’t want your wife to find out, or for you to end up in the hospital, don’t be lame and deviate from the script.’”

  I looked at Fab. “He actually said thank you and sounded like he meant it. I got off easy with Brick, his phone went to voice mail. Lies are always easier on the phone.”

  Some days a seat belt wasn’t enough; I had to hang on tight to the sissy-bar. Digging through my purse, I pulled out my ringing phone and put it on speaker. I didn’t want Fab to wreck trying to listen.

  “I thought you’d want to know,” Mac said, sounding muffled. “She’s not dead.”

  “Miss January? Is it the cancer again?” Miss January had been diagnosed with cancer several years ago and told to go home and die. Instead, she told them to go to hell, went to doctor’s appointments sporadically, and self-medicated with vodka and cigarettes.

  “It’s not her cancer and she’s fine. Miss J hit her head and has already been released from the hospital and is on her way back to The Cottages,” Mac said. “I can give you the deets when I see you.”

  Fab rolled her eyes. “Found drunk in the bushes again?”

  Fab cut diagonal across two lanes. I looked in the side view mirror and was relieved to see the nearest car didn’t have to slam on their brakes. Fab hooked a turn down a gravel road, dust flying. Swamp lined one side of the road and the other side full of commercial lots, with an auto repair business and junk yard. At the far end, the tow yard took up half the street and had eighteen-foot fencing, barbed wire, and surveillance cameras.

  “Have to go, be by later,” I told Mac and threw my phone on the console.

  “Did Mac sound weird or what?” Fab pulled into the driveway, missing the rather large pothole. In Florida, you might not realize it was a sinkhole until it swallowed up your car. I didn’t want to be immortalized in the driveway of a tow yard.

  I got out and looked at the No Trespassing, Dogs, and Shoot to Kill signs. “I’ve learned not to overthink Mac Lane.” Thanks to Fab, I came with all the right paperwork and shoved it under the bars at the window.

  The big burly woman inside the window looked around. “Where’s your tow truck? You’re not driving this thing out of here; lack of tires is the least of your problems. And I’ll need the nineteen hundred and fifty, cash only.”

  “My insurance company will make those arrangements,” I told her. “I’m here to pay my respects, and to see if it’s time to start shopping for its replacement.”

  She took the cigarette that wobbled between her lips and put it behind her ear. “Note here, your insurance company called, will be here this week.” She dragged the microphone across the desk. “Lude, get up here,” she yelled. “Wait here, you’ll be escorted. You have three minutes.”

  The fence opened and a broom handle with hair stood there, tobacco spit flying over his shoulder. He leered. “Why is it the women always want to be the ones to say a teary good-bye, it’s not a dead relate? Men are at the car lot already.” He motioned with his greasy stained hand to follow.

  “Girly stays here with me!” the woman in the office yelled, pointing to Fab.

  There were several hundred cars parked inside the fence in various states of disrepair, from cars that looked like they needed a long overdue carwash to burned-out shells. The hike to my Tahoe took longer than the three minute allotted time. I thought Creole exaggerated in his description; turns out, in addition to being stripped, it had been set on fire. Definitely time for a new ride. I snapped a couple of pictures with my phone and turned in time to see Lude take his finger out of his nose and wipe it on his shirt.

  “Thank you, Mr. Lude.” I forced myself not to run back to the gate.

  “Wait up, you have to be escorted. Company rules. The boss don’t want you stopping and jacking a part off another car.” Lude caught up and walked beside me. “You got a boyfriend?”

  “Yes and we’re very happy.” Well, some of the time we’re happy. Even if I didn’t have one, the answer would be the same.

  He pulled out his wallet, took off the rubber band. “Your girlfriend got somebody?”

  “We both have boyfriends.” Lude didn’t know how lucky he was that Fab stood on the other side of the fence. She’d pistol-whip his butt.

  He handed me two business cards. “One for you and one for your friend. Call if either of you get single.” He unlocked the gate, wiped his hand on his pants, and extended it.

  Freaked out, I damn-near jumped. “I just got over the flu, wouldn’t want to shake your hand and make you sick,” I said, racing through the gate. “Thanks for your help.” I nodded and waved his business cards.

  “Time to go car shopping.” I handed Lude’s business card to Fab after we got inside the Hummer.

  “What’s this for?” Fab read the card.

  “Lude wanted you to have his contact information.”

  “Who?” Fab looked around the tow lot while backing up.

  “You know, that nice man who escorted me to my Tahoe.” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. “He thinks you’re hot and wants you to call him, go out on a date.”

  Her eyes shot icicles. “You’re lying.”

  “Once he found out I had a boyfriend, he asked about you. Wanted me to tell you to give him a call if you dump the boyfriend.” I couldn’t hold it anymore and burst out laughing. Pranking Fab never got old.

  Fab rolled the window down and threw the car
d out. “Were you dropped on your head as a child?”

  “Take me to The Cottages.”

  * * *

  “What is Mac doing?” Fab asked, pulling into the only available parking space at The Cottages. “Who knew a woman her age could Hula-Hoop?”

  “She’s better at it than I am.” I shook my hips in my seat. “The best I can do is three twirls before it drops to the ground.”

  Mac walked over to the car, pulling her skirt out of the top of her yoga pants. “I’m sorry for my part in this.”

  What now?

  “Am I going to need a latte?” I asked.

  “Miss J’s home and resting. I’m the one who encouraged her to join The Cove Walkers, a group of older people who get together and walk around town once a week.”

  “That sounds like a great idea.” I had seen the group many times around town.

  Mac unwrapped a piece of gum and rolled it between her fingers. “Miss J hooked up with two other women. They formed their own group and got on the trolley to Custer’s. During a game of drink or dare, Miss J agreed to a keg stand.”

  Custer’s is a rat-hole bar and favorite hangout for the local drunks who enjoy cheap drinks and tourists who want their picture taken in front of the adobe-like hovel and the pink Cadillac. They were mandated by the Alcohol Board to serve only canned beer and screw-top wine.

  “You’re telling me two people suspended Miss J by her ankles over a keg, and she guzzled cheap beer?” I asked.

  Fab clapped, the Hula-Hoop dropping to the ground. She’d been showing off her hooping skills.

  “The best part was that under those ugly housedresses of hers, she had on a red G-string, no granny drawers for her,” Mac snorted.

  I stuck my fingers in my ears. “Stop. That’s a horrible image to have burned in my mind.”