“I’m calling.” Liam held up his phone.
Brad scooped me up off the ground, depositing me carefully onto a bench. “You better be okay.” He kissed my head, arm around me.
“Edsel’s brother, Ford.” My voice came out as a croak, and I told him everything he said. “I think the bag belongs to him,” I said, and pointed to the table.
He peered inside and nodded. “Probably, unless you know another crack addict. It’s one way to carry around a pipe and other paraphernalia.” He shook his head.
“I asked around the docks about Edsel, not a single person had a good word. Mostly they had warnings about his temper and how he got off on beating a woman.” Brad grimaced.
A local sheriff’s car blew in the driveway. Kevin got out, kicked the door shut, and stomped over.
“Why in the hell is my nephew involved in one of your messes?” he bellowed.
“Back off,” Brad jumped up and yelled back. “This is Edsel’s drug-addicted brother, Ford, looking for money. How is that Madison’s fault?”
I ran my hand down his arm and shook my head, a gentle reminder that he dated the man’s sister. This might be the final straw; Kevin hated that Julie and Liam lived here and constantly demanded they move to someplace sane. Julie resisted thus far, but I noticed she’d started to run out of patience for all the drama. The thought made me sad.
Kevin eyed Ford who was all curled up in a fetal position. “What did you do to him?” He kicked Ford’s shoe, who responded with a groan.
“Fab kicked him in the nuts when he lunged at Madison. He came here hoping to break in and steal, and when he couldn’t squeeze his ass in the window, he attacked my sister. Why is this piece of shit and his dead brother allowed on the streets?” Brad had somewhat reined in his temper.
Cottage ten had seen its fair share of drama. It had burned down when drug cooking went awry, and was used as a dumping ground for the dead body of a person no one in the neighborhood had ever seen before. And it had also been home to a nice assortment of felons.
Kevin dragged Ford to his feet and shoved him in the backseat of his patrol car. To Brad he said, “I’ll be back after shift change and, if Julie’s not home, I’ll take Liam with me.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Liam told him, standing next to Brad.
Whether Kevin liked it or not, Brad spent more time with Liam than he did, and the two had formed a strong bond.
Miss January and her boyfriend wandered up looking bedraggled, sand stuck to their legs and dirt on their clothes.
She waved and said, “Hi,” in a drunken slur.
He belched.
Kevin rolled his eyes and marched around to the driver’s side of his patrol car.
Chapter 15
I groaned and opened my eyes when I realized the irritating noise was coming from my phone. Middle of the night calls signaled someone was either in the hospital or needed bail money. I wagered the latter since it had been a while since I’d gotten that sort of phone call.
“Can you pick me up? I just got released from jail,” Joseph whined. “I’m at Homestead this time.”
“I don’t know why you can’t get arrested locally. I’ll be there as soon as I find the place.”
I jumped out of bed and pulled on my favorite crop sweats and a sweatshirt. Good thing Creole hadn’t spent the night; I don’t know what he would have thought of the early morning jail run. I also wondered why the jails couldn’t release people at civilized hours, but I suppose their guests didn’t care as long as they were out, even if they had no transportation and no place to go.
I input the address in my GPS and breathed a sigh when it didn’t beep that it was in Creole’s no-man’s land. I planned to keep quiet about this little pick-up, wait and see if he brought it up, then I’d know whether he was tracking me in general. Fab suspected as much and had threatened to have it taken out, smashed with a sledgehammer, and thrown in the back of his truck on his next visit. The only thing stopping her, I guessed, would be Didier’s extreme disapproval.
Once I left the Keys, it looked and felt like another world. Gone were the blue-green waters of the Gulf of Mexico and lush greenery dotting the horizon. I was now surrounded by concrete on an efficient highway.
In the past, Joseph chose a bus bench a short walk away from the jail. They were a good meeting point since buses didn’t generally start running again until daylight. This time he made it to the corner and sat there with another man, who had his head between his legs. I made a U-turn and pulled up in front of the duo.
Joseph opened the door. “Can my friend get a ride––we got released at the same time,” he said and looked over his shoulder. “He’s not sick, he’s sore from stealing something and hiding it in his butt thinking the cops wouldn’t find it.” The man’s face was black and blue, one eye puffed shut.
“What in the hell happened to you?” I looked him over, wishing I’d turned off my phone.
“I fell,” he mumbled, his gaze sliding to the ground.
“Why is he still in a jail uniform?” I asked.
The streets were deserted but sitting at a vacant bus stop only invited trouble.
“I guess he came in naked.” Joseph seemed surprised by the question.
The man poked his head in the door behind Joseph. “Please,” he begged.
No good deed goes unpunished, some cynics say––and weren’t they right.
“Get in,” I motioned. “Where does he live?”
“Drop us off at The Cottages, Bungee lives a couple of streets over.” Joseph got in the front while his friend stretched out on his stomach on the back seat.
I headed back to the Keys, just over the speed limit, keeping an eye out for speed traps.
“I’ll get right to the point: What did you do this time?” I asked.
“I got into a disagreement, guy says I cheated him on a car part. I didn’t guarantee it would work, stupid ass should read the fine print.”
“Stolen car parts?”
“I buy really cheap,” he sniffed, “and sell cheaper than anyone else. Gives me extra money on the side.” He looked over the seat at his friend who had started to snore. “I threw the first punch, missed, and fell face first onto the concrete. When I came to, I was already handcuffed. Guy says I beat him up, but he doesn’t have a scratch. Cops charged me with assault and various drunken charges.”
“You make me tired. You’re on death’s door and you’re out carousing, picking fights. Couldn’t you just run out the back door of whatever dumpy bar you were in?”
I didn’t feel like telling Joseph that trick worked for me once in grade school, only thing was I had to be careful what part of the playground I played in for the rest of the year. The best part: I met Cheryl, who was a lot bigger than my toothpick self, and she became my bodyguard of sorts. Our friendship lasted for years until we were separated by going to different colleges.
“And what happened to the man you attacked?” I shook my head.
“Even though I told the cops I planned to press charges, they let him go.” Joseph sneered.
“I don’t know why you can’t get in trouble in the Cove. I better not see him,”—I pointed to the back seat—“hanging around The Cottages. Why didn’t you need bail, when you have serious charges pending and a rap sheet of misdemeanors a mile long?”
“Yeah, about that, don’t get mad...” He wouldn’t make eye contact. “I heard someone talking to Famosa about bail and got on the phone before the time ran out and used your name.”
Like visits, jail phone calls had a time limit and it was a good thing because they cost about three dollars a minute, charged to the receiver’s bill.
It was all I could do to not pull to the side of the road and push them both out the door. “How much?”
He hesitated. “Twenty-five thousand.”
I ground my teeth together. The dentist told me to stop doing that unless I preferred my teeth to be swimming in a jar at night. “Where did you get
the ten percent and what assets did you pledge for the rest?”
“I told him you’d cover it.”
“You’re a dick,” I yelled. “I don’t care that you’re a sick old man, tomorrow you’re going to call Brick and tell him you screwed him good.”
“But,” he sputtered, “what will I say?”
“Try the truth. In case I don’t see you again after tomorrow, it was nice having you as a tenant––sometimes.”
Chapter 16
“Didier and I are taking a drive down the Keys today,” Fab informed me when I walked into the kitchen, her innocent face in place, peering at me over her cup of early-morning sludge.
“No-you-are-not.” I banged my can of coffee mix on the island. “Don’t think about leaving or I’ll drag your ass back here and cuff you to the furniture.”
Didier walked up behind me, putting his arms around me and kissing my cheek. “Bon jour,” he whispered against my ear.
Fab shook her head, wanting me to keep quiet.
I changed tactic and said sweetly, a hard glint in my eye, “Go, have a good time. When Mother or anyone asks where you are I’ll tell them you don’t really like any of them and that you’re out banging your boyfriend on the beach.”
Didier’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, clearly not amused. “Banging is a vulgar term,” he said, and glared at me.
“The author of a book I just finished used ‘swive,’ but then I’d have to explain the meaning to most people. Banging needs no explanation.”
Didier turned to Fab, rattling something off in French.
I beat my fist on the counter. “Stop with the French. Now that’s rude.”
Fab stuck her nose up at me and answered him back.
Didier smiled at me. “Of course we’ll be here.”
He winced and I knew Fab had kicked him.
“Don’t worry about bringing anything,” I said to Fab. “I went to the Farmer’s Market and got all these amazing vegetables for a salad. You can help me cut them up, since I know how adept you are in the kitchen.”
Didier moved away from Fab and laughed. “I’ll help,” he said. She had on her new black bikini and sexy low-slung black and white skirt cover-up. Didier had on black trunks and a T-shirt that made you want to stare at his chest. I wanted to comment about their matching outfits, but it would suck to have both of them mad at me.
“You two act like I don’t know how to put lettuce in a bowl,” Fab fumed.
She looked hot, even in the middle of a temper tantrum.
Creole stuck his face against the garden window, waving. The door being locked didn’t deter him; it opened less than a minute later. He tossed his bag onto the floor and closed the space between us, sweeping me in for a kiss. He took care to make sure his college football jersey didn’t ride up my butt cheeks.
“Just the man I need a favor from,” I said as I ran my fingers across his lips.
“Favor? What’s in it for me?” He put his arm around me and walked me back to the kitchen island where he pulled me onto his lap.
I leaned in and whispered in his ear.
He laughed. “Done.”
“I’ll do you a favor,” Didier said, and leered at Fab.
“Are you here to thank me for saving her life again?” Fab asked Creole.
I picked up a handful of vegetables and threw them at her.
“What was his name? Oh yeah, Ford. Brother to the pervy Dead Ed. Tried to choke her to death. See the bruise on the side of her face?”
“Fabiana,” Didier chastised, and shook his finger at her.
“What the hell?” Creole turned me around to face him, gently running his fingers down my neck. “Why didn’t you call?”
It made me happy to see Didier frown at Fab.
“I’m fine. Ford, Edsel’s brother, let go when Fab kicked him in the nuts.” I laid my cheek on his, and continued. “That’s my favor. Seems Ford’s a drug addict. I’d like to question him about his newly-deceased brother. Ford doesn’t seem to think Jami killed him and I’d like to know who any other suspects might be. I can’t go for a jail visit because I’m part of the pending case.”
“I checked on your gardener and things don’t look good for her,” Creole told me. “I’m more than happy to have a chat with this Ford character.”
“I don’t want you to end up in jail,” I said.
“Do you own a suit and appropriate accessories––you know shoes, tie…?” Fab asked Creole.
Didier’s hand slid around to her backside and she twitched.
Creole narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
“Hold on a second,” I cut in. “You’re a troublemaker today. I said we’d do a couple’s dinner. I explicitly said no to suits, stilettos, and those snotty restaurants the two of you favor. I agreed to a restaurant in the Keys, dress-up tropical style, no dive bar.”
“Double date?” Creole half-laughed. “We get the back seat.”
“You might want to rethink that if Fab is driving.” I crossed myself and smiled at her.
“You need to talk to your girlfriend about speed limit signs and what they mean,” Creole said to Didier. “Red lights, too, while you’re at it.”
“I do all the driving and Didier’s never complained once.” Fab gave Creole a withering look.
Didier drew her to his side, kissing her cheek.
“Come on.” I grabbed Creole’s hand. “I’ll wash your back.” Out of earshot of the kitchen, I whispered, “And that finely-sculpted butt of yours.”
“What will I be doing?”
“Your hands will be over your head, against the shower wall, not interfering while I make sure every inch of you gets clean.”
* * *
I rolled quietly out of bed, not wanting to wake Creole. I picked his clothes up off the floor in case Mother came into my bedroom. They needed to be washed, but I’d ask first. In his line of work, as an undercover drug agent for the Miami Police Department, clean clothes were probably frowned upon. A little quiet time by the pool before everyone arrived would be good. My favorite royal blue tankini hung on the doorknob and a flowered wrap skirt lay on the chair. I slid into them and, on the way out, grabbed my latest read.
Before I got all the way down the stairs, Mother came through the front door, her arms full of bags. Spoon was right behind her with his arms full as well.
“Nice purse.” I winked at him. “Matches your outfit.”
His laughter boomed throughout the kitchen. “Come give Daddy a hug.” He held out his arms.
“Run that line by Brad,” I joked. My brother liked Spoon, but their relationship would improve if he dated someone else’s mother.
We both laughed. The smile softened the hard lines in his face.
I liked Spoon. I’d met him first and was the one to introduce him to Mother––but I drew the line at “Daddy,” and Brad would flip. I’d love to be a fly in a far-off corner if Spoon tried it with him.
Liam raced into the kitchen, two trademark boxes in hand from The Bakery Café. A person had to love sweets to get into this family.
He hugged me. “You okay?” he whispered.
I nodded. “Want to help me get out pool toys?” We slipped out the French doors to the patio. “Why are you whispering?”
“Mom’s not very happy about that creepy guy showing up. Kevin wants us to move. Says it’s a cesspool. Said you should evict everyone and run it as vacation rentals.”
I hugged him. “I don’t want you to move. Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you and cry. You’re welcome here in my house anytime––you need anything, call. You know where I hide the key.”
“I want to remind you next weekend is my first cross-country meet.”
“Fab and I will both be there and we’ll make a big scene when you run by. When people ask who the crazy women are, pretend you don’t know us.”
Liam laughed.
Mother met us at the door. “Where’s Creole?”
“He’s right behind you,” he spoke
up, wrapping his arms around her.
Creole had a special relationship with Mother and visited her at least once a week at her house in Coral Gables. I knew they never discussed his relationship with her daughter, because she was so worried that we’d breakup and he’d pull away from the family. Fab convinced me that if we didn’t work out we could both take the high road and act like adults.
The doorbell rang and Brad went to answer. Hardly anyone rings the doorbell; if the door is locked, they go around the back.
I heard Brad’s irritated voice but not his words.
“Now what?” I asked. Good thing I wasn’t expecting an answer, no one was listening to me, all eyes focused on the front entry.
Kevin Cory barged in and looked straight at me. “Madison Westin, you’re under arrest.”
“What’s the charge?” I felt Fab’s hand on my back.
“Aiding and abetting an escaped felon. Hands in the air.” He twirled his cuffs on his index finger.
“You can’t do that.” Liam rushed forward. “She’s not a criminal.”
“Tell Cruz to call back pronto,” Fab growled from behind my back. It made me half-smile. Fab called the lawyer for me, and I knew how much she hated those calls.
This had to be some kind of joke, but I could see Kevin was totally serious. “Do you have a particular felon in mind?”
“Benjamin Hall. You deny picking him up at Homestead jail and helping him to escape?”
“I picked up Joseph and his friend, both having just been released and needing a ride.”
“That’s not what Homestead cops think. I’m here to take you into custody in response to their request. You’ll be held until they send someone down to pick you up.”
Creole ran in from the pool. “That’s enough. Do not answer any more questions without a lawyer.”
Fab’s phone rang. “Sheriff’s here to arrest her on a warrant.” She held out her phone to Kevin and said, “Cruz would like to talk to you.”
Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 06 - Revenge in Paradise Page 10
