“Do you have one breath of appreciation for the fact they are no longer manufactured, making it a collectible?”
Proud of myself that I didn’t roll my eyes, I said, “Yes, I do.” In my opinion, that sounded sincere.
“The damn vehicle is becoming a headache; my sniveling nephew is still whining that he wants the Hummer. You let me know what kind of car you want and I’ll hook you up on a good deal. In the interim, choose a car from the rental side and get the keys from Bitsy.”
“That was too easy. How about a boat ride over to Fisher?”
“Did you see the sign out front —Luxury autos, not a boat on the lot?” Brick stared me down. “I know what the two of you are up to; you’ll get arrested sneaking over there on a boat. I’ll hook you up with a pass; drive on and sneak around, or whatever you two do. Once you get on the island no one will bother you.”
“You’re the best.” I jumped up, momentarily thinking about giving him a hug. “How soon can we get the passes?”
Brick leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. “You remember that the next time I call.” He wagged his finger. “Stop by tomorrow and I’ll have a car ready. It will have an electronic box that will get you past security. Ernesto in service will have the key.”
I fingered the candy bowl on his desk, helping myself to two chocolate bars. “I’ll take a bottle of cold water.”
Brick had a small refrigerator that held soda, water, and his favorite chilled vodka.
“Nothing happens to Bitsy. You get her and your crazy girlfriend to kiss and make up.” Brick’s cell phone rang; he picked it up and waved me off.
The side lot had limited choices. I slid behind the wheel of an Escalade. It looked exactly like Zach’s, only newer. I asked once if I could drive his and he laughed.
CHAPTER 27
Fab had gotten better at sharing the driveway, so parking the Escalade wasn’t a problem. I reached for my Glock when I noticed the kitchen blinds being down. I slowly opened the front door and it was all quiet, not even Jazz came to meow.
“Are you alone?” Fab called from the living room.
I holstered my gun. “You must be doing something illegal.”
“I don’t think so, but some people might not agree.” Fab sat cross-legged on the couch, Jazz asleep next to her.
“I hope those people aren’t the police.” I dumped my purse at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve had enough excitement for today.”
Fab sat, knife in hand, cutting out the bottom of a briefcase. “Look what I found.”
“Gabriel’s?” I narrowed my eyes. “Since it probably didn’t drop out of the sky, you must have gone back to the condo and broke in for the second time. Where was my invitation?”
“Don’t yell, you’ll wake Jazz,” Fab ran her hand down Jazz’s back.
“No need for both of us to go to jail. Besides,” Fab explained, “along with everyone else in town, you’re my first call for bail money and a jail pick up.”
“Where did you find it?” I sat opposite her, excited to see the contents.
“In the guest bedroom closet, behind a shelf unit, tucked inside the wall. My last place to look, I’d been through every room. The duct system had been my first stop. I thought for sure he’d hidden it in there, especially when I saw it had a not easily-seen space between the bedroom and bathroom.”
“Are those bundles of hundreds? Is it real?” I did some mental math. Unsure of the exact number of bundles, I estimated about one hundred thousand. “What else besides the cash?”
“A nice Ruger and Sig Sauer.” Fab pulled the guns out, setting them on the coffee table. “Untraceable, I’m sure.” She pulled out two large manila envelopes and rifled through the contents, yielding three complete sets of identities.
“Lookie: a bank account in the Cayman Islands, and even one in the last of the tax havens, Belize. And my favorite, complete floor plans for the Wright mansion,” Fab said, and she held them up. “Here’s a list of the items to be stolen, their value, and a map where each item was located in the house. He had codes to the outside gate and house.”
I sat there in opened-mouth awe, impressed by the organization. “Having never been a professional thief, are you always this detailed?”
“I’m convinced Gabriel and Maxwell were partners in crime and that they had a third partner who lacked sharing skills and killed them both. What else makes any sense?”
Thoughts of the dead Gabriel sent a shiver up my spine. If he hadn’t died that night, he would never have let Fab out of his control. I’m certain he would have sought retribution for running. “I’m happy you ditched him that night, you might have ended up dead.”
Fab looked fearful. “Gabriel didn’t like the newest version of me; in fact, it angered him. He told me I’d gone soft and he didn’t find it attractive. I read between the lines. I’d outlived my usefulness. After a pain-filled lecture, he dragged me out to that island to take the fall and end up in prison; or he’d shoot me himself and I’d still take the blame in death.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I couldn’t believe it, but that night he used the same hands which had brought me hours of breathless pleasure, to inflict unspeakable pain.” Fab’s face clouded over, lost in the ugly memory.
Fab held up an expensive black leather journal. “He kept track of all of his jobs, like a scrapbook. Kept detailed lists of what he stole, the worth, and what he netted. He left behind an interesting address book. He tracked all the jobs he did, what he stole, and a South Florida to-do list. He had two more high-profile thefts in the planning stage, more floor plans, and a list of what he would be stealing. In the back was a list of several more mansions on his wish list. He had plans for another heist on Fisher Island and their neighbor, Star Island.”
“You never did tell me how you ended up on Fisher Island that night.”
“Gabriel called and wanted to broker a truce. Said I’d be happy, he was going back to France. Americans got on his nerves.”
“Can you imagine if he’d stayed at The Cottages?”
We both laughed.
“I underestimated him. He held out his arms for a hug, then flipped me around and pushed my face into the ground. He cuffed my hands behind my back and pulled them tight, using the cuffs to jerk me off the ground. I thought he’d break my wrists. He slammed his hand over my mouth, but I struggled and bit him,” she said and then choked back tears.
Grabbing her water bottle, she downed it and screwed the cap back on. “He dropped his hands long enough for me to scream, and then slapped me hard across the face, almost giving me whiplash,” she paused to take a breath.
I didn’t say a word, afraid she’d stop talking and I’d never get the whole story. I did put my bottle of water in front of her.
“He dug his fingers in my neck and squeezed,” she said, “telling me if I used my feet other than to walk, he’d break both my legs. He then warned me not to speak without his permission or he’d gag me.”
“You survived, that’s what I care about.” As her best friend, I needed to distract her. “Good news, but in exchange I need a promise.”
Fab arched her brow. “I’ll listen, but the answer is no.”
I channeled Madeline in a quick second, hands on my hips. “You listen to me. I’ve had a crappy day.” I mimicked Mother’s no-nonsense voice. “Mango bashed in the back end of the Hummer, looking for you. You will promise.” I wagged my finger.
“How the hell did Mango find out about us?” Fab huffed, sticking her chest out. “Okay, whatever, what? I went to Catholic school, if I can stare down the nuns, I can out stare you.”
“I got us a ride to the island and some credentials. It all goes down tomorrow. In exchange, no retaliation against Bitsy.”
“Let me guess, Brick’s sleeping with that dumb-ass blonde?”
“Gee, I forgot to ask,” I snapped my fingers. “Your promise, please.”
“Sure.” Fab held up her right hand. “No Hu
mmer, huh? What are you driving now?”
“A big Escalade that’s newer than Zach’s,” I was so pleased, I wanted to drive by his house, honk, and make him ask, “Where did you get that?”
I continued. “You’re making a promise to your best friend who would get out of bed in the middle of the night to bail you out of jail.”
“You’re so whiney you’re making my head hurt.” Fab packed everything back in the briefcase and snapped the locks down.
“What are you going to do with the briefcase? Someone’s going to figure out the condo got tossed. If it’s Creole he might just strangle you. Or if it’s Harder who comes banging on the door he could put you in jail. Make sure no one can find the damn thing. Creole will wait until we’re not here and snoop around on his own. He’s good, girlfriend.”
“Got any ideas?”
“I want deniability,” I motioned for her to get up off her butt and follow me. “Besides, you know this house better than I do.”
* * *
I tossed the Escalade keys to Fab. It irritated me that she got behind the wheel and took off smoothly down the Overseas, unlike me, who had it jerking and jumping until I got used it. If she ever found out I’d never hear the last of the comments.
“What are you getting paid for this job and why do I have to come along?” Fab pouted.
She blew down to Pigeon Key going just over the speed limit. Gazing out at the blue-green water reminded me I needed to get to walking on the beach again every day.
“I don’t trust you not to get in trouble. I’m terrible at the money issue. I’ll deal with the clients, but you need to quote the job and explain terms.”
Fab hit the steering wheel; another driver cut her off and she had to slow down. “A carwash eviction? How are we going to have any credibility when you take these weird jobs? And the place burned down?”
“Only the roof burned off, and a few minor issues like plumbing and electrical, and all the equipment. Surely, Mr. Ivers must have insurance. Even you, hotshot, wouldn’t have known Quirky would double back and torch the place.”
“We need to advertise our eviction services. Our slogan: We’ll evict the crappy tenants no one else will.”
“You post, I’ll be back up. Or I’ll post and you shoot.”
Fab slowed for the exit, and this time when she hit the gravel, we didn’t weave sending dirt and gravel flying. We drove under the arch into the driveway of the Wild Bird Farm. The colorful parrots that crowded the cement overhang had doubled in number since the last visit.
“Tolbert will be happy to see you. You’re clearly his favorite,” I said.
“He reminds me of my grandfather; no judgment, doesn’t harp on wanting me to change into something I don’t want to be.”
Grover stood guard at the top of the steps when we pulled into the driveway. Once we got out, he cleared the steps in a leap, bounding over to give me a lick hello. I missed walking on the beach with him. I remembered the new box of dog treats before I left the house, pulling out two and putting them in my pocket. Grover wolfed down the treats and moved between me and Fab to get petted.
Mr. Ivers and Tolbert sat on the porch. “Today I have iced tea or orange water.” Tolbert motioned to the tray on the table. As usual, he thought of everything. Fab and I chose orange water. Fresh slices of oranges in ice-cold water.
I smiled at Mr. Ivers and grabbed two pillows, throwing them in a chair before sitting. “The Poppins are gone, but you probably know that there was a fire. I have a friend, Jimmy Spoon, and his crew can have the car wash running in a few weeks.”
“Everyone around here knows that Spoon character is a criminal. And I’m tired of his ilk,” Mr. Ivers growled.
I squared my shoulders and glared. “Spoon is reformed. No other local will do the work without screwing you. It’s your choice. Or go with someone your insurance company recommends and see how that works out.”
“Mr. Ivers is it?” Fab stopped pacing the porch and settled into a chair next to Tolbert. “We accept cash.”
Uh-oh, Fab’s narrowed eyes meant trouble. She looked Mr. Ivers over with outright suspicion.
“The deal was to evict those crazy inbreds, not leave me with a burned-out building. Job’s not done. The only people who deal in cash are criminals.”
“Don’t run some crazy old man story, they only work on her.” Fab pointed to me. “The job was for an eviction. Period. You need to pay up.”
Tolbert laughed, winked at Fab, and reached across to refill her water.
I gave Fab the eye. “Of course, we want a happy customer.” In the future, I’d be handling all customer service issues.
“You need to get Clean Bubbles up and running again. I’m an old man and not up to the stress.” Mr. Ivers put his hand on his chest.
“I’ll be happy to handle the contracting responsibilities. We’ll have to negotiate a new contract,” I said.
The job excited me a flashback to the old days. I could do this on time and on budget.
“My insurance is getting back to me today on what they’re paying and that’s your budget. You can hire all the criminals you want; you’ll be responsible.” Mr. Ivers turned steely eyes on Fab. “My deal was with her,” he said, and pointed to me. “Weren’t you in jail when the heavy lifting got done?”
“And after the car wash reopens, then what?” Fab glared back.
“Get the car wash up and running, you two can run it, and it will keep you both out of trouble.”
“You’re senile,” Fab snorted. “Why would you think either of us would agree to that?”
“More tea, anyone?” Tolbert asked, a big smile on his face.
“I’ll sign over half the car wash to you,” Mr. Ivers said to me. “You can hire her, although I wouldn’t. She seems unstable.”
“She’d be my employee, I could tell her what to do and she’d do it?” I bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh.
“You’re senile too.” Fab glared.
“Let’s get this straight. I oversee the repairs and, in exchange, I get half interest in the property and can run it without any interference by you?”
“I’d expect my half of the profits deposited into my account each month.” Mr. Ivers sat back satisfied with his part in the negotiations.
“Put it in writing with a little notary stamp, and repairs will start right away,” I said. “And don’t forget the silent partner clause.”
“You’re better at negotiations than you think,” Fab whispered.
“Why do girls whisper? I can’t hear with my hearing aid turned up.” Mr. Ivers fiddled with his earpiece. “What’d she say?” He looked at Tolbert.
“I told her to dump your ass,” Fab said. “Blow up that stinking carwash and make an example out of non-payers.”
“If I was younger, I’d ask you out on a date.” Mr. Ivers winked at Fab.
“We have another appointment,” Fab lied. “Not one thing gets done until you send a signed contract and the insurance check. Madison isn’t fronting money for you with your poor track record.”
“You’ll hear from me this afternoon,” Gus told me.
Tolbert and Fab walked back to the SUV, Grover and I trailing behind.
I waved through the windshield as Fab backed out onto the road. “I’ll sign half of my half over to you,” I told her.
“I’m not carwash material. That old man scammed you.”
“It would give you a tie to Tarpon Cove. Harder for you to pack and leave town on a whim,” I said.
“I thought about that in jail. Being part of the Westin family means I won’t be running off anytime soon. What’s that noise?” Fab looked at my phone.
“I downloaded a new ‘Hey’ ringtone, lets me know I have a text.” I scrolled down and read. “Our ride and credentials await our trip to the island. Ready?”
“Driving over is a way better idea than my idea or riding over on a boat.”
“Remember when we get to Brick’s, no harassing Bitsy.”
/> CHAPTER 28
Fab and I walked into Famosa Motors; I pinched her arm as a reminder to play nice. Bitsy didn’t look surprised. “Brick’s not here. He left this for you.” She pushed a manila envelope across the counter. “He says to take the Mercedes GL63.” She passed me the keys.
Fab leaned across the desk. “You think it was a good idea to make an enemy out of me? Watch your back.”
“You worked Mango up, you call her off,” I said to Bitsy.
“Fab, catch.” I tossed her the keys. The prospect of driving a new car would dissuade her from administering an ass kicking.
The black Mercedes SUV sat waiting, not a speck of dust and with a full tank of gas; a bit intimidating with three rows and seating for eight.
Fab circled the SUV, kicking the tires. She got on her hands and knees and checked the underside. “Least he’s not tracking us.”
“Notice the sticker. No one will question that we belong out there.” I opened the console box and pulled out the paperwork.
“You’re so nerdy. The owner’s manual?” Fab laughed.
“Says here big engine, lots of horses, and the best part: good, low-end torque.”
Fab pushed all the buttons, checking out the dashboard. “There’s a screen here, I can watch myself back up.”
“When we get to the island, do not do anything to attract attention––and that includes driving fast.” I opened the envelope that Brick left. “According to the notes, the window sticker will get us on the island, no questions. Here’s a gate card and an address where we can park and go snoop around.” I put it in her outstretched hand. “It’s four big mansions away, so we’ll have to walk. Got a plan yet?”
“I want to retrace my steps the night of the shooting, before and after.” Fab was on a roll, hitting every green traffic light. We hit the expressway in record time.
“Don’t you think the widow probably has extra security? Can you do this reenacting from the street? Trespassing on millionaires’ properties is a good way to get arrested, or if the widow has a security guard, we might get shot.”
Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series) Page 16
