Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 06 - Revenge in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  “Mother,” I shrieked. “Is the man okay?”

  “Him? What about me? He jumped in the water.”

  I’d never seen her throw a fit ever––she stressed manners and no public outbursts to me and my brother while growing up. It amused me. Thankfully no one was hurt. Wait until I tell Fab.

  She continued in a state of indignation. “I couldn’t believe that the Coast Guard has the right to board a boat, especially for no reason. It’s called a suspicion-less search. The main guy told me to be quiet and Spoon gave me one of those faces of his that he uses when he’s not pleased with me. I gulped down the rest of my Jack, and the next thing you know there was a fire.”

  I covered my face and laughed, which sounded more like a coughing fit.

  “He kind of did put his butt in my face, doesn’t that make it his fault?”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t get arrested.” I took a long drink of water before I succumbed to more laughing.

  “I apologized and then burst into tears. He believed it was all a mistake.”

  “You cried.” I stared at her.

  “Not real tears, but he didn’t know that. I rubbed my eyes hard so they looked red. ”

  “Did you and Spoon have something to hide and you created a diversion?” As long as I’d known Spoon he’d been a law-abiding citizen. I wanted it to stay that way.

  “How can you ask that?” Mother squinted her eyes.

  “You didn’t answer the question.”

  “No, we did not. We were minding our own business and the other was an unfortunate accident. I peeked when he got out of the water and the fire didn’t go through his underwear.”

  I took the loop down to the docks and pulled into a parking space. “Spoon hasn’t brought the boat back,” I said, and pointed to the empty slip. “Or is he in custody and you haven’t been notified?”

  Mother glared at me. “I told you we didn’t break any laws.” She reached for the door handle. “I’ll wait here.”

  I grabbed her arm. “You get out and I’m calling Brad. You’re not going to stroll the docks waiting for lover boy.” I didn’t waste time. I put the SUV in reverse, flying backward, figuring she wouldn’t get out of a moving automobile.

  “Shouldn’t he have been back by now?” She turned in her seat, staring out the back window. “Take me back.”

  I ignored her. She’d never allow me out of the car by myself. “Spoon can pick you up at my house.”

  She picked up my phone and pushed redial. Frustrated when she got no answer, she left lover-boy a terse message.

  “Spoon will come to my house first. He knows you’d stay with me.” On the verge of yelling, I struggled to stay quiet. I wanted to go home. “Call him back and tell him you’re at my house.”

  I rounded the corner of my street, happy to see my driveway. Although Mother complained all the way, I thought it prudent not to remind her that at least her day didn’t end in cuffs.

  Before she got out she said, “I did get a ticket to appear in court. Can you make an appointment with your lawyer?” She grabbed my arm before saying, “Our little secret.” She zipped her lips.

  I walked in ahead of her and claimed Jazz, then threw myself in a chair with my feet over the arms. Fab and Didier lay on the couch watching something riveting on television with the sound down. Reminded me of college when we’d get drunk and watch muted Shirley Temple reruns.

  I looked at Fab, my lips a tight line, a slight shake to my head. She knew to ask later.

  Mother poured herself a Jack on the rocks and paced the floor relaying her story to Fab and Didier. Fab looked at me and rolled her eyes in a gesture that she wanted confirmation it was all true. I didn’t think Mother would exaggerate this story.

  Didier gave her a hug, whispering something in French, which seemed to calm her frantic pacing. He finally got her to sit down, thank goodness. I’d grown weary watching her flitter about the room. He murmured something else and she stayed put, leaning back and putting her feet on the ottoman. Good thing Brad wasn’t here; he had no such power over her. It always irked him when someone could get her to do something he couldn’t.

  The doorbell rang so Didier answered it and carried the pizza into the kitchen.

  Mother cleared her throat. “Neither of you will say anything to Brad. He’s still on the fence about my relationship with Spoonie,” she said to Fab and Didier.

  Didier assured her neither of them would say a word.

  Fab stuck her finger in her mouth.

  It startled me when Spoon walked in through the French doors without making a sound. It made me wonder if he’d been standing outside listening before making his presence known.

  Mother squealed, jumped up, and ran to him, pushing him back out onto the patio. Fab and I exchanged looks. She started to get up to eavesdrop, but Didier pulled her back down.

  “How are we going to find out what really happened?” I glared at Didier. “Let Fab go listen, she’s good at it.”

  “That is your mother,” he admonished. “You really need to stop doing that,” he said to Fab.

  We both looked at one another and exchanged the same thought: Like that’s going to happen.

  “Wait until I tell Creole that he’s short on the details because of you.” I smirked at Didier.

  He frowned and shook his finger, and from the tone of his voice, I knew I was getting a short lecture in French.

  I said to Fab, “You can translate later.”

  The patio was turning out to be a busy place; Creole’s voice drifted through the door before he entered.

  I jumped up. “How was your day, honey?” I pulled him into the kitchen and pressed my body to his for a much-needed hug.

  “What the heck is going on around here?” Creole kissed me.

  I popped the top on his favorite beer and handed it to him. “It’s a surprise.”

  Mother and Spoon came inside holding hands, and she announced they were leaving.

  “Not so fast, Mother. I’m sure Creole would like to hear about your day,” I said.

  His hand slipped under my skirt and he pinched the bottom of my butt cheek. Thankfully, I only squirmed a little.

  “I do not,” he whispered in my ear.

  I felt his hand moving to the other side and jumped out of his embrace. He jerked me back and held me firmly against his chest.

  “Yes, I’d like to hear her retell the story. I thought later would be better, but now is good. Be sure you don’t leave out a single detail.” Spoon glared at Mother.

  Fab covered her mouth and laughed. We both took perverse delight in watching Mother squirm; this was the same thing she did to us on occasion.

  “Refreshments anyone?” I asked.

  When Mother finished her latest version, we learned she’d been argumentative and disrespectful to the officer in charge and just about got them both arrested.

  Creole laughed until he had tears in his eyes. “That’s a good one. And you,”—he pointed at Mother and continued to laugh—“set his pants on fire. Surprised you’re not in custody.”

  “She burst into tears and sobbed how sorry she was,” Spoon said, and squinted at her.

  “Cried?” Creole looked at her and started to laugh again.

  Even Didier, after recovering from her newest version of how her day went, laughed.

  “All of you stop laughing. This was a serious situation.” She smiled up at her boyfriend. “I’m sorry. I didn’t like the way they talked to you or treated you.” She slipped her hand in his. “Come on, Spoonie, this is an unsupportive bunch. And none of you tells Brad. I will do it in my own time.”

  “Spoonie?” Creole and Didier said in unison, and the laughter started up again.

  Spoon turned and glared at both men, put his arm around Mother, and banged the door closed.

  “I’m afraid to ask about your day,” Creole said, and turned to Fab. “Make sure you get all of the coffee made in the morning.” Then he dipped his body and quickly slung me
over his shoulder.

  Fab gave him a dirty look. Everyone drank something different in the morning, which required two coffee pots and an espresso machine.

  I wiggled my butt against his cheek.

  “Be still.” He smacked my bottom.

  I waved as he carried me up the stairs.

  Chapter 22

  Creole slipped out of bed and left before the sky thought about getting light, but before sneaking out of the house he left me with a thorough kiss. Sleep eluded me so I decided to go grab egg soufflés from The Bakery Café. This early, I’d have my pick of breakfast pastries. My first stop: The Cottages. Just a quick drive by to make sure all was quiet. We had good tenants for a change, but I never knew when I’d get a call about a new felony having been committed.

  I loved that there was no traffic. After rolling down the window, a salty sea breeze whipped through my hair while I continued to drive along the beach. I turned the corner and saw a man come out of Shirl’s cottage and close the door. His eyes darted around, hands stuffed inside his pockets. I recognized the scruffy-looking man before he noticed he was being watched. How in the heck did he hook up with Shirl? This must be her new man; no wonder she kept him hidden. Did she know he was an undercover cop?

  It had been a while since I’d run into “Help,” who was a friend of Creole’s.

  I leaned out the window, letting out a low whistle. “Get your butt over here and don’t think about making a run for it or I’ll drive over you.” I couldn’t make out his reaction because his baseball cap was pulled down. He donned large dark glasses, and his clothes were not as dirty as usual.

  “Creole can piss off before I do him another favor,” he growled through a clenched jaw. He delivered a message for Creole one day, but thinking he was a prowler, Fab and I pointed guns at him. I’d run into him only a couple of times since, always going out of my way to say hello, knowing he wanted me to ignore him.

  “You want a ride?” I smiled.

  He shook his head and flipped his glasses up. His eyes narrowed to slits. “What I want is for you to drive away and forget you ever saw me. And keep your mouth shut.”

  He looked clean, his hair was still wet around the edges.

  “That’s so unfriendly,” I admonished. “Does my tenant know about your disreputable self?” I wanted to laugh at the frustration pouring off him. “You tell me your real first name and I won’t bother you until the next time.”

  “Jim Bob. Now go.” His eyes constantly swept the street on the off chance that, at this hour, someone might appear.

  “Your lack of accent would suggest otherwise.” I wagged my finger at him. “Do not break Shirl’s heart. Or Fab and I will feed you to the alligators.”

  “Are you threatening me?” He’d had enough of me for one day.

  “Just be honest with her. I know that’s hard for your sex, but give it a try,” I said. I didn’t know the man at all, but Creole vouched for his character and that was all I needed to know.

  Knowing Shirl, he could whisper, “Lose the damn skirt,” and she would be naked in half a second. He’d be hard to resist; he fit her type of bad-boy good looks, longish dark hair, and the palest pair of indecent blue eyes which could strip you bare.

  His jaw clenched. “I’d hate to complain to Creole about you.”

  “Stop by sometime and I’ll give you lessons in making up good threats.”

  He stared at me for a long moment, turned without a word, and shuffled down the street a few houses before turning in and disappearing. I sped up to see where he had gone and it surprised me to see a path that cut straight to the beach. I drove slowly down the rest of the block, looking for more secret paths, but found none.

  I need to pay better attention.

  The neighborhood was typical of a small beach town, this street and the surrounding neighborhood full of charming fifty-year-old beach houses and a few multiple units. Limited grass, some favored rocks. Well maintained, more tenant-friendly than owner-occupied.

  My phone rang. “What are you doing cruising the block like you’re looking for criminals?” my brother asked.

  “Did you know that there’s a secret path to the beach a few houses down?” I looked in my rearview mirror to spot where he was loitering.

  “That’s what you get up early and do? You were never this weird before.”

  “When did you become the poster child for normal?” I liked having my brother around and wasn’t looking forward to when all the repairs would be completed on his boat.

  Something tapped the passenger-side window and I screamed. Brad had smooshed his face against the window, gesturing to let him in.

  I clicked the locks.

  “Isn’t this tint illegal?” he asked.

  “Look, I have a scary-girl rep to maintain. Have you seen Joseph?”

  “He’s been hiding out since the night of your near-arrest. I don’t know who he’s more afraid of, you or the police.”

  “He can’t hide forever.”

  He laughed. “What’s for breakfast?”

  “Damn, I forgot. I’ve got to go get it,” I said and stomped on the gas. The highway was still not heavily trafficked and I knew the back roads.

  “Let me out,” he said.

  “To do what? You got in, you’re staying. Besides, we need to talk business.”

  “You’re interrupting my run on the beach.”

  “You can do that with Didier and boy bond, unless you’re intimidated by the fact he’s better looking than you.” I winked.

  He slugged me in the arm. “Julie thinks I’m a looker. I want to learn a few French phrases for my own perverse needs.”

  “If you start talking about your sex life, I’m going into detail about mine.”

  “Being your brother, that’s the last thing I want to hear about. I know you have one but I’d rather pretend that you’ve never been kissed.”

  “One of your friends was the first,” I said, and laughed.

  “Which one? I’ll kill him.”

  I pulled into a parking space in front of The Bakery Café and, judging by the empty spaces, the morning rush hadn’t begun.

  I cut the engine and turned to face him. “Does this mean you and Julie are okay after the whole arrested-in-my-living-room thing?”

  “So far, there are no lasting issues. If I could get Kevin to keep his opinions to himself that would help. I confronted him and he’s fine with me, it’s the rest of the family.”

  “I hope you’re not forced to make a choice. That would mean I’d rarely see you.”

  “I already told Julie not to ask. I’m an as-is guy and that includes my family. It didn’t help when Kevin showed up the other day to pick up Liam and he refused to go. He called his uncle out on the whole arrest––he wisely observed that Kevin enjoyed handcuffing you. That, Liam didn’t like.”

  “Telling Kevin ‘no’ is a big red flag. Did they work it out?”

  “Kevin started to grab him to force the issue and I blocked him.”

  “Maybe suggest a guy outing to Kevin––he and Liam could go somewhere of Liam’s choosing and talk out their problems.”

  “Probably not while he’s grounded. Kevin told on him.”

  I gasped. “That blows. He should have addressed the anger one on one. Remember when we made a pact, no telling on the other?”

  “It pissed me off. Liam and I are going fishing when he gets off of home detention.”

  “You have always been the best big brother.” I blew him a kiss. “Let’s talk about the Trailer Court. I read your prospectus and approve your plans for renovation.” He put together a detailed report, turning the run-down lot into a fifties-themed trailer court—complete with restored Airstream trailers—with the intention of making it a tourist destination.

  “Heard through the gossip grapevine, while restoring that old Airstream on the back of my property, that Spoon had a couple of them rotting away on his auto body lot. I mentioned my plans to him and he indicated he’d like
to be an investor.”

  “You don’t even like him. What happens if he and Mother break up? They’re still in the honeymoon stage of their relationship, although I like the idea of a family venture.”

  “I didn’t comment one way or the other. We need a sit down to go over the plans and costs. As for Mother, she could do a heck of lot worse, and it was you who pointed out how happy she looks. How can I ignore that?”

  “Have you ever met a man who can keep up with her? Even when you fixed her up with Doc, he wanted to make a few changes. Trust me, a woman hates that.”

  “And does Creole want to make changes?” Brad eyed me closely.

  “He never tells me not to do something, just to be careful and not to scratch up or bruise what belongs to him.”

  “Which one of us is going to get pregnant first?” Brad raised his eyebrows.

  “Probably not you; most likely Julie.” We laughed.

  Three cars pulled up to the bakery at once. “I’ll get the food. You run down to Sherman’s Market and grab some orange juice.”

  Chapter 23

  Tropical Slumber Funeral Home had the most interesting history of any business in the Cove. It got its start as a drive-thru hot dog stand. Long-time locals claimed that on a hot day you could still get a whiff of a fully-loaded dog. When the parking lot was empty, as it was then, Fab insisted on parking on the red carpet that ran under the overhang up to the front door.

  “How rude is it to show up to a funeral that we know is over?” I looked around wondering if we were early or late.

  “We didn’t even know the deceased, and what we’ve found out since is that the world is a better place. Besides, I talked to Raul and told him we were stopping by for information.”

  Raul and Dickie purchased the business a few years back. They couldn’t be more different. Raul schmoozed the clients and handled all the business details, while Dickie’s talents lie in making the dead person look their best for their final hurrah. And looks-wise, they couldn’t be more different, either: Raul the body builder, Dickie thin and pale, never looking quite comfortable in his own skin.