Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 06 - Revenge in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  Fab pulled on my arm. “Come on, we’ll go get lunch.”

  “We have to get her out,” I said, and laid my head on her shoulder.

  Chapter 29

  I peeked in the window of the courtroom to see who had arrived, before slipping unnoticed into the back row. I had shown up to Miss January’s court hearing early, and to my dismay, her case had been assigned to Ana Sigga, chief prosecutor and damn good at her job. Her reputation as a hard-ass was well deserved, and she didn’t offer up sweet plea deals.

  Miss January and several other defendants were handcuffed and paraded in and led to seats in the jury box. An armed bailiff stood guard in case one of them was stupid enough to attempt an escape. She looked pale and disoriented, unsure of what the heck was going on around her. Her prison orange hung off of her like a sack, and she looked more like a coat hanger for the uniform.

  A dark-haired man stood, identifying himself as her public defender, fresh faced, dark circles under his eyes. I’d guess he was newly graduated from law school. He’d need every skill he learned in college to go up against Ms. Sigga. I suspected she’d chew him to bits and spit him out as a snack.

  It further depressed me to find out that Chief Harder had decided to take a vacation. Not that he owed me any favors, but that wouldn’t stop me from asking.

  Ms. Sigga stood up and walked to the defense table. As she tossed a file down, my eyes went straight to her shoes. Another pair of red-soled Louboutin spike heels, different from the last ones. The lady liked her expensive, designer shoes.

  Miss January stood silently in the jury box, her attorney by her side, where he answered all the questions on her behalf. She entered a plea of not guilty and the bailiff escorted her to the holding area for her ride back to the jail.

  I wanted to talk to her, but it was forbidden for anyone to talk to the prisoners. I had no in with her lawyer but now that I knew who he was, I could go badger him at his office. Someone I knew must know him, so they could speak on my behalf. As I snuck out, mulling options as to how to help Miss January, my thoughts turned to Carly and how to get the truth out of her.

  * * *

  I called Mac and Phil to see if they could come up with any information about the night of the arrest and who the drugs were purchased from. My head ached worrying about Miss January. I made sure to leave enough time to take a nap before dressing for a family dinner at the Crab Shack.

  Mother wanted to celebrate her poker room being a huge success. It was making money and there had been no raids. I didn’t expect any since the group was private, by invitation-only. The regulars didn’t miss a game. We’d had a couple of inquiries from the general public about booking it for parties, and so far Mother had ignored those requests.

  A horn blasted behind me. Fab blew past and into a parking space. The Crab Shack sat off the main highway that looked out over the blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean; it was everyone in the family’s favorite restaurant.

  I kissed Didier’s cheek. “I know I have you to thank for her showing up.”

  Fab looked like her usual hot self, with a black slip dress and ridiculously high heels. I wanted to hide my low-heeled linen wedges from view, but my dress wasn’t long enough.

  At least I won’t fall down.

  Fab rolled her eyes. “Do me a favor and get drunk again. I need a good laugh.”

  “Ow!” Fab jumped, glaring at Didier.

  “Pinch your butt cheek, did he?” I smirked. “Creole does that all the time.”

  Didier put his arms around the both of us. “Both of you behave,” he admonished. “Where is the boyfriend?”

  “I texted him but haven’t heard back.” I checked my phone again, just in case. “Still working, I suppose––and not getting into trouble, I hope.”

  Spoon spotted us, stood, and waved. Mother didn’t choose a restaurant without a water view and tonight was no exception.

  Mother hugged us. “Where’s Creole? You two aren’t fighting are you?”

  I sighed. “We don’t fight.” We were a pretty compatible couple and that surprised me as I stood there thinking about him. Another thing I loved was that he got mad and got over it, no grudge holding. We were alike in that way.

  We ordered our drinks and I decided it was time to reacquaint myself with my old friend—Tequila. I chose a margarita with the intentions of sipping it, not downing it in a gulp or two. I managed to sit in the best seat at the table. With my back to the wall, I could scan the room and enjoy the water view. The restaurant had a low-key atmosphere, decorated with fake palm trees and fish mounted on the walls, rope lights strung around the ceiling.

  “Did you invite Brad?” I asked.

  Mother looked around. “He’s at Liam’s track meet, and he didn’t know when it would end. Wouldn’t it be nice if—”

  “Let me guess,” I said, cutting her off, “he got married. You need to let it be their decision to trot down the aisle.”

  Mother blushed. “Really, Madison. I wasn’t intending to meddle.”

  Everyone laughed, knowing that Mother liked to manage her kids’ personal lives in the spirit of wanting grandchildren.

  “Look who’s cuddling in the corner.” Fab made a gagging noise.

  Mother looked relieved that Fab changed the subject and she didn’t have to answer. Surprised me that Fab didn’t get “the look” for inappropriate noise-making at the table.

  I turned and, sure enough, Ana Sigga and Slice were kissing. “She must be stalking me. I saw her earlier in court, didn’t get a chance to say hello. I think I’ll do it now.”

  “Court?” Mother hissed. “Are you in trouble?”

  “Not a Westin this time,” I said, patting her hand. “Miss January is in trouble.”

  I pushed back my chair and Fab asked, “Have you forgotten that she doesn’t like you?”

  “She likes you less than she does me.” I raised my eyebrows.

  I wasn’t about to announce in front of everyone that Fab had unknowingly slept with Ana’s then-husband.

  “Excuse me,” I said, and stood. “I’ll have grilled shrimp and rice. Be back in a moment.”

  I smoothed my black dress down, a favorite of Creole’s with cap sleeves, a cowl neck, and a deep slit in the side. Ana looked flawless every time I’d seen her in one of her power suits and, of course, her shoes. I wouldn’t mind a peek around in her closet, if only to look; I couldn’t imagine her letting me borrow anything.

  Slice and Ana made a great-looking couple. Both were fiercely attractive in their own way. He was a solid wall of muscle and had that scar that made him look menacing. She looked different from her court persona, her dark hair not severely pulled back and in a French roll. Tonight she wore it long. She had very classical features, dark eyes, and a chiseled nose. Slice looked up and flashed a toothy smile while Ana turned and glared when her eyes met mine.

  I seated myself opposite them, without waiting for an invitation. “I hope you don’t mind. I only need a few minutes of your time.”

  “You are the rudest bitch.” Ana’s eyes were ice cold and angry. “I have no desire to speak to you about anything. Call my office and leave your number with my assistant and if I change my mind, you’ll be contacted.”

  “I want to talk to you about Miss January Higgins.”

  She blew out an exasperated sigh. “Of course you’d champion a drug-dealing grandma.”

  “I know she’s not guilty. She doesn’t do drugs, not even prescription. What do you want to make a deal that wouldn’t include jail time?”

  “Are you bribing me?” she asked indignantly. “You’re my witness,” she said, and threw her eyes in Slice’s direction.

  “Your boyfriend here knows Miss January. Ask him about her. I’m offering an information exchange. You need the name of the dealer? Names of anyone who even smokes pot within a ten-mile radius? What?”

  “We have her red-handed,” she snickered. “No deals. Now leave.”

  I persisted even though she’d made
up her mind, hoping she’d rethink prosecution. “The person who orchestrated this is the driver, Carly Manning, who has an impressive arrest record. Miss January is a harmless drunk with no arrest record.”

  She pulled her cell phone out. “Do I need to call the sheriff and have you arrested?”

  “You should leave,” Slice said, sitting back the whole time, listening but showing no emotion.

  I wanted to yank her around by the hair, but instead, stood and leaned into her face. “She’s dying, she’s got cancer, and she didn’t do this.” I felt a pair of hands rest on my shoulders, thumbs pressing into the muscles on both sides of my spine. The familiar, masculine touch was just the support I needed.

  “Is there a problem here?” Creole asked with an edge to his tone.

  Creole and Slice stared one another down, the tension palpable. Ana looked at Creole and seemed shocked that we were a couple.

  “You could do better,” Slice said to me as he motioned with his head.

  “And so could you.” I gave them both a dirty look. “At least my boyfriend has enough integrity that he wouldn’t stand by while I sent an innocent woman to prison. Don’t ever criticize my choice again.”

  Creole looped his arm around me when I turned away. “You called me boyfriend,” he said. He gave me a goofy smile and nipped my neck.

  I wanted to whisper, “Harder,” but the middle of the restaurant didn’t seem appropriate for foreplay. “It’s official, we’re a couple,” I giggled.

  “I bet that didn’t go well,” Fab said.

  “What does Slice see in her? I’ve never even done anything to her.”

  “You stuck up for me, went toe to toe, and, let’s face it, you got what you wanted and she didn’t.” Fab smiled.

  Mother and Creole hugged. “I ordered you a beer when I saw you walk in.”

  Fab explained to everyone the events of the other night and the predicament Miss January now found herself in.

  Creole put his arm around me. “I don’t think you should worry so much. From the look on Slice’s face, he’ll probably investigate on his own. Just because he doesn’t like me, doesn’t mean he’s not a decent guy. Then I would expect a change of heart on Miss Sigga’s part.”

  Since my dinner came before Creole’s, I pushed my plate over, selected a shrimp, and rolled it around in the butter sauce offering him the first bite from my fork. I pushed it against his lips.

  “Eat.”

  His eyes smoldered with more than the want of food. He ran his tongue slowly across his lips and took a bite, savoring the taste.

  Brows raised, he whispered, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  He had a little spice stuck to the corner of his mouth. I restrained myself from licking it off and used my napkin.

  Fab nudged me under the table and gave me the evil eye, letting me know that Mother was watching.

  “I hope you ordered something good, since you’ll have to share.” I gave him another bite.

  “You seem to be in one piece,” Mother said to Creole. “You ever think about getting a nine-to-five job?”

  “That’s never going to happen.”

  I let my mind wander to how to change Ana Sigga’s mind about Miss January. Any plan would probably have zero chance of success since she disliked me so much. Somehow, I had to get Carly’s confession. That, too, seemed unlikely to succeed, as she was a smart one and streetwise. She only did what was in her best interest and that would include not pleading guilty to a felony.

  “Are you paying any attention at all?” Creole whispered.

  I shook my head, no.

  “We’ll get Miss January out of jail. You’re not without influential friends. I’ll find the dealer and help get the evidence you need.”

  I leaned over and brushed his lips. “Let’s leave, now.”

  “We can’t eat and run. Not much longer, though.”

  “Are you sure?” I ran my fingers up his inner thigh.

  “Behave yourself,” he growled. “Spoon’s watching, and he knows what you’re doing.”

  “I want to go home,”—I pouted—“take off all your clothes, and push you down on my soft sheets.” I blew him a kiss.

  “Does anyone want dessert?” Mother asked.

  “I’ll have key lime pie, to go,” I spoke up.

  Chapter 30

  I left Fab at home cuddled up and laughing with Didier out by the pool and drove to the Trailer Court, an acre of concrete set off the road to see what Brad wanted. It surprised me to see the place leveled, debris hauled away with six trailers still left behind. Jake’s was on the opposite corner and it didn’t look very busy as I drove past.

  An Airstream, getting ready to be moved for repairs, sat on a flatbed. I’d prefer to clear the whole property, but then what? The last thing I wanted was another place full of eccentrics. That word always made me laugh; everyone knows that’s a nice word for weirdos.

  Liam sat laughing next to the professor, who now tutored him regularly in math. Liam told me Crum made it more understandable.

  Brad opened the driver’s side door and extended his hand. “The place now has potential.”

  I refrained from rolling my eyes.

  “You’ve only got a couple of options: Let it sit here empty—except for Crum over there—sell it to someone who will want to build high-rise condos, or we go with my plan. I choose option three.”

  “I’m in as your silent partner. You can do whatever you want with the property. Jake’s stays where it’s at.” The whole project sounded fun to me, but I wasn’t signing up to be full-time management. I wondered if Mac could clone herself.

  “I’m going to need your expertise in junk when it comes to decorating the place. No one can see potential in a piece of crap more than you do.”

  “That building stays,” I said, and pointed to the old deserted gas station. “I really like the building. We could turn it into an antique store or maybe we can turn it into an office for Fab.”

  “Hmm…I thought about tearing that down.” Brad shook his head. “We could put Fab’s office where the car wash used to be—”

  “Have you met the Twinkie girls yet?” I interrupted Brad, who was busy scribbling notes. “We could give the roach wagon a fresh coat of lime-colored paint. This block has cute potential.”

  “I met the ex-wrestler one. Big as me and could kick my ass. She has perfected the art of answering questions with something that doesn’t make sense. Any problems with those two, you can handle it. You have a gift for communicating with unusual people.”

  I laughed. “Anything criminal in nature comes up, we’ll make that Fab’s department.”

  “You’ve read my proposal and you’re good with my ideas? If so, then work can start next week.”

  “Does this mean you’ll be fishing less?” I asked.

  “Julie and I are talking about buying that old turquoise monstrosity on the water and rehabbing it. If we can survive an extensive remodel that would be a good sign.” Brad looked happy.

  “I’ve got great connects for different trades. A friend of Elizabeth’s works in county code enforcement and then there’s Spoonie. I’ve always been happy with his recommendations; they’re not creepy, show up, do a good job, clean up, and leave.”

  We walked over to Liam and Crum who were still laughing. I never found anything amusing about math once I got to algebra. Crum had drug out a pair of chairs I hadn’t seen before, both faded yellow plastic, and furnished his patio from roadside finds that were left waiting to be picked up by the trash man.

  “What are you two up to?” I asked. “We need to have a discussion you and I.” I scowled at Crum.

  “He’s teaching me to say ‘ass-face’ in different languages,” Liam said.

  “That’s helpful.” I glared at Crum.

  “This from the woman who lets him spit out the car window,” Crum scoffed.

  “I can’t believe you told.” I brushed back Liam’s hair.

  Brad started la
ughing, making spitting noises. “We used to do that as kids. She could always hurl her spit farther than me.”

  “A girl’s got to have a talent.” I blushed.

  “You remember how mad Mother got when she figured out what we were doing?” Brad smiled.

  “I remember I didn’t get grounded because I blamed it all on you. And you didn’t tell. I believe I’ve told you a hundred times since that you’re the best brother ever.”

  “I wish I had a brother or sister to blame stuff on,” Liam said.

  The professor cleared his throat. “The sheriff was able to identify the owner of the foot. It belonged to a gentleman who was out riding his bike in the dark and got hit by a car.”

  “I didn’t figure that story would have a happy ending, but I’m sad to hear he died.” I’d read that story in the local throw paper, not connecting the two. He’d been hit by several cars and no one stopped.

  “What has Crum done now?” Brad dragged over a picnic bench for the two of us.

  “How come Mac thinks I hired you as a gardener?” I asked Crum.

  He looked uncomfortable, which surprised me. “I’m doing a damned good job,” he snorted. “Jami is a friend and I thought I’d save her accounts, but most dumped her when gossip blew through town about the murder and everyone started saying that she would never get out of jail.”

  It sounded like something I would do and get Fab to help, until she put her foot down and hired someone else.

  “Mac has the final word, you work for her. Let me be clear on this point: no stolen plants. Leave a list and next time you show up, plants will be delivered.”

  Crum pinched his nose together. “I don’t steal; those plants were relocated. They had been improperly planted.”

  I put my fingers in my ears. “You’re too smart for such a stupid explanation. If you don’t have a receipt from the Garden Center, we’re not paying. Ask that snotty Mark who works there for assistance, you two should get along quite well.”