Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 06 - Revenge in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  I had all of the smart-ass sucked out of me. I didn’t make eye contact, just walked ahead of him and sat in a chaise, hoping he’d leave me there.

  His eyebrows went up at my choice of furniture but he didn’t say anything.

  “I’m hungry.” My voice was just above a whisper.

  “You get one bottle of water and that’s it. You should’ve thought about food before making Mr. Dunbar mad.”

  “I’ve done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment and you know it. Your mother would be so proud.”

  “Say one more word and I’ll gag you.” He zip tied my good arm, this time not quite as tight, I tested it and found some play. He came back and threw a bottle of water onto my lap. I didn’t say a word, and stared straight ahead.

  “This is your last chance,” he said quietly. A few moments later, I heard his footsteps retreating across the marble floor.

  I turned on my side and curled into a ball, closing my eyes.

  Chapter 20

  “What the hell? I’m worried about you and you’re asleep.”

  My eyes flew open to find Fab crouched down by the side of the chaise, the last rays of daylight slipping away.

  She ran her hand over my bandaged wrist. “What’s going on?”

  “Ow. Keep your voice down.” Whatever Gunner had poured on it had taken forever to stop burning. “Get out of here before you get caught, and go get help.”

  She slid a pocketknife from her jeans and cut the tie. “We’ve got three minutes before the security cameras go back on. I recognized the system and got a little help. Follow directly behind me, nose to my back, and they’ll never know how you got out of here.”

  My lip quivered as she helped me up. “Did I tell you I’m very happy to see you?”

  “Hurry up, we’re running out of time. I’m going to remind you of your gratitude later.”

  At the far end of the property, a second gate stood open about a few inches. We barely cleared the opening, when the motor on the fence whirred and the backyard floodlights came on all at once. The exterior of the house was awash in lights, including along the street.

  “No car?” I looked at the empty street. “Run! Leave me behind and get help.” I was headed for a panic attack at the thought of getting caught.

  Fab grabbed my hand. “Move your ass.” We jumped into the ivy, a four-foot wide strip that ran along the front of the house. From behind a tree, she pushed a baby blue Vespa to the street and hopped on.

  “Don’t just stand there,” she said.

  I slid on behind her. “Where did you get this?”

  “I… uh…borrowed it.”

  “You stole it?” I hissed.

  She stomped on the gas, and for something I thought was a bicycle with a motor, it shot down the road.

  I wrapped my arms around her middle. “I’m in awe,” I whispered in her ear. I hid my face in her back, afraid to look. She gained speed as we rolled along the oceanfront in the pitch dark. I said a silent prayer, knowing we were about to die, run over by a large auto that didn’t give a damn––or worse, Gunner had tracked us. Since talking was impossible, I held on for dear life. Taking a quick peek back, the wind slapping my face, something thumped the top of my head and I hid my face again.

  Fab surprised me when she put on her signal and pulled into a convenience store and whipped out her phone. “I’ve got to send a text and then we’re off. We don’t want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

  “We missed our flight.”

  “Did you hit your head? We still have a hotel room.” She smacked my butt. “Let’s go.” She merged back onto the highway and pushed the scooter to sixty. Who knew?

  I shook with relief at the sight of the hotel. Fab blew past the driveway—what was she up to now? Special parking for scooters? She circled around to the far corner and followed a path that ran down to the beach. I raised my eyebrows when she pushed it around the back of a Tiki Shack, parking it next to its cousin scooters.

  “I had to return it. I don’t want to face charges of grand theft scooter.”

  “That would blow your bad-ass image.” I wanted to hug her, but more than that, I wanted to be safe inside the hotel room.

  “Does Dickhead Client know which hotel you’re staying at?” Fab grabbed my arm.

  “I didn’t tell anyone, only gave Mother the information. I’m happy that I left you the info, ignoring Brick’s demand that you not know the location. Screw him.”

  True to form, Fab knew how to get around the building without using the front door and traipsing through the lobby.

  “This time, I was the one with the bad feeling,” Fab said, leading me around the pool area, through some ground cover and into a service elevator. When the doors opened on our floor, she looked out and scanned the hallway.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when she slammed the room door shut and threw the bolts.

  She turned and faced me. “Why do you have a bruise on your cheek?”

  “Dunbar hit me. Didn’t like my attitude,” I said as Fab helped me with the hooks on my jacket. I shrugged it off and tossed it onto a chair. “Order me a pitcher of margaritas and an enchilada. I’m in desperate need of a shower.” I headed to the bathroom, only stopping to step out of my skirt and kick it out of the way.

  The water gushed over me in a waterfall effect. I stood underneath and released all my pent up emotions in gulping sobs. I lathered the Plumeria-scented shower gel, courtesy of the hotel, all over me, making a mental note to boost some off the maid cart. I wrapped myself in one of the white cotton robes that hung on a hook, cinching the belt tight. Looking in the mirror, I ignored the slight bruising and pulled my hair up into a ponytail.

  “I want you to know I’m never trading you in for a shinier model. You know, less miles.” I smiled at her, refusing to get teary since she hated it.

  “That’s good timing,” Fab said at the knock on the door.

  “Take your gun just in case.” I looked for my purse and realized Dunbar had everything, my purse, my phone, and too much personal information.

  A hunky, barely-legal beach boy pushed a cart into the room. Blond hair, blue eyes, big dimples. He knew he was cute. He ran his eyes leisurely over Fab, enjoying himself. She flashed him a sexy wink, tipped him generously, and then with one hand on his chest, shoved him out the door and closed it behind him.

  “You remembered the salt and the wedge of lime.” I filled my glass to the top with the delightful green beverage and savored the first sip, took a slight breath, and then downed half. “Girl hug?”

  Fab rolled her eyes and pointed to the king-sized bed. “Have a seat.” She handed me the delicious-looking enchiladas, settling on the bed across from me. “What in the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know.” I related the details from the moment I stepped out of the rental car. When finished I said, “Thank goodness I had nothing to do with renting the car I drove. The last thing I want is an arrest for grand theft. Not to mention my Glock was a gift from Brad that I want back. I don’t care about Brick’s overpriced car, that’s his problem.

  “I’m impressed with the way you disarmed the security system,” I added.

  “About that”—she paused—“I had to call Zach, then Slice, since Zach wouldn’t answer my calls.” She held up her hand. “I knew in an hour something went wrong. I waited an extra hour just to be sure. Then I burned up the phone lines, no one answering their phones, and believe me, I tried them all.”

  “Creole’s going to hit the roof. I didn’t tell him about this trip because I thought it would be like the last job––no problems.”

  Fab refilled my drink. “Creole’s calls went to voicemail. To show you how desperate I was, I called Harder and he’d gone to an all-day conference.”

  “Where the hell is Brick?” I held out my hand. “Can I use your phone?” Voicemail annoyed me, especially when I was mad.

  “Call me, now,” I growled. Then I texted him: 911.

  “Withou
t my ID, I can’t get on a plane and I’m not staying here.”

  Fab’s phone rang immediately. I looked at the screen before tossing it back, shaking my head.

  “She’s asleep. This wasn’t overreaction on my part. Dunbar––you know, another one of your sleazy clients––had her tied to a chair. And she’s sporting a black eye thanks to him. Apparently, business must not be very good for you if you’re taking on clients like him. He needs an upgrade to his security system.” She held the phone away from her ear while Zach yelled something unintelligible, and then she hung up on him.

  “Turns out Dunbar’s a client of AZL’s,” Fab told me. AZL Securities is Zach’s company that he’d built into one of the biggest in the state.

  Zach could be a little more gracious, since I nursed him back to health a time or two in our relationship. I knew him well enough to know he was just worried; he thought I took too many risks, which was another reason for our breakup. I’d give him a sincere thank you and a free meal at Jake’s.

  “Zach thought I was using him on a personal job, he didn’t believe you were involved. Once I convinced Slice, he passed the news on. I stayed on the line while the tech guy engineer arranged interruption in service and walked me through what to do.”

  Her phone rang again. “Brick,” she said after looking at the screen, and handed me the phone.

  My voice fluctuated between calm and angry. I detailed my day. He exploded in a string of colorful language. When he found out I didn’t have his car or money in my possession, he sputtered a few words in English, so I pretty much knew his line of thought, and he ended in a flourish of explosive Spanish.

  “You need to get my purse, phone, and gun, and have them delivered to the hotel before morning. Leave them at the front desk; I’m not giving out the room number. Our flight leaves at 8:00 a.m. and I need my identification. You might mention that if Dunbar doesn’t return them, that I’m not without friends. I’ll press kidnap and assault charges and I have the bruises to prove my claim. You and I both know I could get the cops to knock on his door tonight.”

  It surprised me when he said he was sorry, admonished me not to overreact, and assured me my belongings would be there by morning.

  “Any idea why Dunbar screwed Brick?” Fab asked.

  “Dunbar was definitely paranoid over not getting what he paid for, but tying me to a chair?” I thought about the phone call. “I got the impression Brick wasn’t expecting any problems. He seemed surprised and he’s smarmy enough to mumble some pitiful excuse. Would you call Didier and tell him that if Creole calls, I’ll be home tomorrow?”

  “I called him while you were in the shower, had to promise we’d be low key until we got back home.”

  “I’m so happy that we’re this weird, happy family.”

  * * *

  Fab called down to the front desk and found out a package had been delivered. She ordered me to stay put and ran down to retrieve it.

  She returned and sat cross-legged on the bed, slicing open the box with her pocketknife.

  “Doesn’t that package have my name on it?” I asked.

  “I’m only speeding up the process. You’re not good at these things.” She upended the box Brick had delivered. Everything was returned, including an envelope of cash, his way of saying he felt bad.

  Wait until he receives the expense report.

  Even my fun red slides that I dropped—and they’d disappeared one at a time in the bushes—had been returned; but they didn’t suffer the abuse well. First priority: Go shoe shopping.

  Fab threw her bathing suit in the suitcase, snapping it closed. “Brick arranged for a car to take us to the airport and the man is downstairs waiting. Let’s leave early, we can shop at the airport, surely that’s a business expense. I’ll feel better when we’re out of here.”

  “Let’s stop at Lincoln Road when we land in Ft. Lauderdale, there’s at least two shoe stores I’d like to run through.”

  “You have enough shoes.” Fab let out a long-suffering sigh.

  “Now’s not the time to go all meany on me. It won’t take long, you know I shop fast.”

  Chapter 21

  We hadn’t been home long when I got a frantic call from Mother saying she needed a ride home from the sheriff’s office.

  “It was all a misunderstanding,” Mother stammered.

  “Do I need to bring bail money?” I laughed.

  “Madison Elizabeth Westin, get over here right now,” she snapped. “Hurry up.”

  Oops, she used my full name. I was in trouble now. Growing up, my brother got his full name yelled out a lot more than I did, mostly because I covered my tracks better.

  Fab arched her brows at me. “What?” was on her lips. She and Didier were laughing in the kitchen, making some sort of culinary mess.

  “Didier,” I called. “I need a favor.”

  He looked around the corner and I batted my eyelashes, not wanting to move off the couch and disturb Jazz from his nap.

  “The answer’s no. I don’t do jail runs,” he said, and laughed.

  “But it’s Mother.” I can’t believe that Westins were turning out to be jailbirds.

  “Sorry, Cherie, you’re on your own.”

  “I’m busy, too,” Fab yelled.

  “Sorry, Jazz, you’ll have to move. No one wants to be nice to a girl who’s had a bad week,” I whined loudly, and slipped into my flops. “I’m going to tell Creole you were both mean to me.” Didier glared, I thought he would come after me and wring my neck. I closed the door and hurried over to my SUV. No competition to drive today.

  * * *

  As soon as I slammed the door of my SUV shut, my phone rang. I looked at the screen before answering. “It’s about time,” I mumbled.

  “Do you know who you’re speaking to? You must have drawn the short straw.”

  “Yes, Chief, sir, I do.” I ignored his reference to Fab not being the one to call. “Did you get the report?” I had suggested she call, in a gesture of showing that she’d had an attitude change, but she made a face and walked away. Even when I threatened to tell Didier, she only laughed.

  “Yes. I have another job for you,” Harder said, clearly not amused. “By the way, where’s the invoice?”

  Rather than blurting out, “No,” I’d wait until he made his pitch and then turn him down. My intuitive sense kicked in, and his “job offer” didn’t surprise me.

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “We took a vote and unanimously decided to give you what’s known as a freebie. In appreciation for everything you’ve done for Fab and I.”

  He snorted. “I want you to call Lizzie, take her to lunch, whatever, and tell her what a piece Dane Thorson is,” he blurted.

  Men were such cowards when it came to emotional issues.

  “No! I don’t know Lizzie, and believe me, you don’t want Fab to do it.” I almost laughed at the thought. “Trust me. It’s better coming from someone who loves her.”

  “Double pay?”

  “This is what you’re going to do: Invite her over, just the two of you, and sit with her while she reads the report. If she bursts into tears, wrap your arms around her and hold her close, you don’t have to say a word. Pat her head a couple of times. Do not complain that she’s getting your shirt wet or admonish her not to use it as a Kleenex.” I smiled at the thought of him being the comforter; I had faith he’d do a good job.

  I broke the silence. “It will give you a special bond.”

  He blew out a long breath. “I suppose you’re right,” he said.

  “We’re available anytime.”

  “Did you check with your cohort before making that offer?” he said, and laughed. “You two did a good job.”

  “Rip off the Band-Aid and call her.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Thanks again.” We ended the call.

  Lizzie wouldn’t think so at first, but she was better off without Dane Thorson and she’d move on to find a nice guy, not a fraud.

 
; * * *

  Mother had given me an address I didn’t recognize until I pulled up in front of the Fish and Wildlife building. It had been a long time since I’d been here; Fab had a friend who used to work here but he’d gotten promoted and moved to another office. Mother fidgeted, pacing just outside the fence, scowling. Her hair was a knotted mess, not her usual impeccable self, but rather more like a cat toy after it had been drug all over.

  She flung the door open. “This is not my fault,” she yelled loudly enough that a couple of officers turned around and stared.

  I leaned over to kiss her cheek and she drew back. “Bail money, indeed. I am not a criminal.”

  “What is it you used to say to me? ‘Why don’t you start at the beginning and don’t leave out one damned detail.’” I scowled back at her.

  Mother’s cheeks turned the same shade as a tomato. “Can I use your phone? I need to call Spoonie.”

  I groaned. “Jimmy Spoon is a grown-ass man. One who no one in their right mind would challenge…one who slays lesser men with his growl, sending them into a run for their lives––and you give him a baby name?”

  “He’s such a teddy bear.” She grabbed my phone off the dashboard. “Straight to voice mail. I know he didn’t get arrested—I asked. If that wet-behind-the-ears officer had paid attention, we’d still be out on the water, enjoying the day.”

  “The beginning, Mother,” I sighed.

  “Before you take me back to your house, swing by the docks where Spoon parks his boat. If he’s there, you can drop me off.”

  “I’m not dropping you anywhere, until you tell me what the heck happened.”

  “Spoon’s boat got pulled over on the water for a safety check. Two officers boarded, they had a list to check for life preservers, that sort of thing. The one hinted that the licensing might not be up to date, which I knew was ridiculous and told them so. Then the other officer leaned down to look in the lockers. I wasn’t paying attention, and the tip of my cigar caught his pants on fire.”