Bodies in Paradise

by Deborah Brown

  Casio grunted. “That would the last job I’d sign up for.”

  “If it were me and the mother reappeared tomorrow, I’d have a hard time handing the boy back over, wondering when she’d take off again,” Fab said.

  “I don’t get it myself,” I said. “I just want a happy ending all around.”

  “Good luck to that one.” Casio snorted.

  Chapter Nineteen

  For two days, Fab and I worked from home—her house, since she had the larger island space and we could spread out. We used the time to catch up, read all the reports we’d requested, and sift through the latest information Xander had emailed over.

  Fab’s phone rang constantly with calls from Gunz, demanding to know the latest on his nephew’s case. During the last call, he told her he’d be handling it himself.

  It was the first time I’d ever heard her yell at him. “You need to stop this and let me do my job. Your beating the hell out of the man you think responsible won’t prove that Jimmy didn’t embezzle the money.”

  That calmed the man down, and the two spoke civilly after that. She hung up with a frustrated sigh. “Jimmy was on the call too, although he barely got in another word after hello. The looming threat of prison is turning Gunz into the crazy one, and it’s not his big butt on the line. I was happy when Jimmy made the point that if the missing money wasn’t located, this would always hang over his head.”

  “Once the CEO is informed, I assume he’ll call the cops, though he probably won’t want it to make the news,” I said.

  “Xander has more information for me.” Fab pointed to her laptop screen. “I’m sending you a link to join our meeting, so don’t dawdle.”

  “I’ll try.” I made a face, and she laughed. I opened a new window on my computer and, after a couple of clicks, waved wildly at Xander, who waved back.

  Fab opened a file and scanned the screen while Xander began his report.

  “Milton Track, Jimmy’s boss, was terrible at covering his tracks. The man didn’t know what he was doing and left a clear path back to himself.” Xander snorted.

  “This attempt to extort Jimmy into repaying money that he didn’t steal is clumsy. Even if he had the money, which he doesn’t, why would he pony up… a million, is it?” I asked.

  Fab nodded. “You did a great job, Xander. You got proof that Milton had his sticky fingers, and only his, all over the account he set up in Jimmy’s name.”

  “I don’t know how this works,” Xander said. “Won’t the District Attorney want to know how you procured the information before dropping any charges?”

  “Tank is Jimmy’s lawyer, and he knows that you’ve been attempting to track the money, so he’ll know how to present it to the court. Since you’ve done other jobs for him, he doesn’t have to worry that the information is bogus,” Fab said.

  “Wait until Gunz’s best friend, Cruz Campion, finds out he’s been replaced by a lawyer that doesn’t have billboards all over South Florida boasting of his courtroom prowess.” I shot a smirk at Xander, who winked. I’d questioned the BF status in the past, but one thing I didn’t have the nerve to ask was, “How the heck did you two become besties?”

  “Cruz took the family to Greece for a month, apparently without Gunz’s permission.” Fab laughed. “He was beyond irked to find out he was not only not in the office but not even in the country.”

  “You’re sending the file to Tank and case over?” I asked.

  “Maybe… or not. I’ll let you know,” Fab said.

  Swell. “Speaking of Tank, what’s happening with your friend Lena?” I asked Xander.

  “She spoke to him, and her only option if she can’t work it out with her mother would be to sue her. She said that would start a war and her mother would immediately set fire to her belongings.”

  Yikes. “Surely Tank had some good advice.”

  “He offered to mediate a sit-down between the two, which Lena turned down, fearing the same result.” Xander half-laughed, not amused. “He was in favor of Lena continuing to stash away personal items that she wanted to keep. I’ve been helping with that. We’ve been replacing the items with junk, and her mother hasn’t noticed.”

  “If I were in Lena’s shoes, I’d be doing the same thing,” I said. “But you could be arrested, and who knows what charges her mother could level against you in her anger over being bested.”

  “Tank told her to remove her own belongings and not involve anyone else, as that wasn’t a crime,” Xander said. “I’ve rounded up items from the thrift store and several times gave her a ride to her friend’s house, where she has everything stored. Lena’s gotten almost everything she wants boxed up and out of there. She’s just hanging onto everyday items that she needs until her eviction on her birthday.”

  “The two still have time to fix the relationship…”

  “Slim chance of that,” Xander huffed.

  “Lena has another month of school after her birthday—where’s she going to live?” Fab asked.

  “There’s one thing that worked out great. She’s been invited to stay with the same friend who’s storing her stuff until college starts in the fall.”

  “Happy to hear,” I said.

  Fab ended the conference call, assuring Xander that we’d be in the office in the morning.

  * * *

  Fab demanded that I be ready to leave early the next day, as she planned to wrap up the Jimmy Jones case and needed the element of surprise—annoying people before they had time for coffee was her plan. When she informed me that she needed to stop by the office to pick up a file, I told her I’d be riding in with Creole, since the guys had an early meeting.

  “I got the barest of details about today’s job,” Creole griped as he cut across the highway to the office. “This is where I remind you again that you’re not to go traipsing off without a heads up, and before, not after.”

  “Fab’s winding up a case, and I’m the ride-along. Not planning on messing up my do.” I tugged on strands of my hair and hoped it hadn’t frizzed between the house and the car. It could easily be one of those days, with humidity threatening to zoom through the roof.

  Creole snorted. “Uh-huh.”

  “On the off chance I have to get out of the car, I know it will give you peace of mind to know I’m gunned up.” I pulled my skirt up all the way. Creole laughed. “This new tidbit should make you happy: I’ve been led to believe that we’ll be hanging out at the office more, which I’m totally in favor of.”

  “Sounds good in theory, but Fab can’t solve her client’s problems sitting behind her desk.”

  “I’ve got a solution: get rid of Lark and hire Fab to run the office. She’d be great with the clients.”

  Creole groaned overly loudly. “We took a vote, and we like Lark, eccentricities and all. We’d also miss Arlo; he’s good for a game of fetch when we take a break and go out to the patio.”

  “What you’re saying is that I did a good job in hiring her?”

  “Maybe.” He laughed.

  We arrived at the office and barely got parked before Fab squealed up beside us, parked, and laid on the horn. Didier must have told her a time or two to slow down or she’d have beaten us here. Fab and Didier headed into the office, parting ways at the elevator.

  “Fab’s got something that needs her attention upstairs, and while she’s doing that, it will give me time to update Brad,” I said.

  “Hoping that no one gets hurt with the Logan situation.” Creole got out and walked around his truck, helping me out.

  “Hopefully we can reunite him with family that he knows and loves,” I said. “The alternative of letting the situation play out is fraught with potholes.”

  We walked around and went through the side entrance. Creole opened the door, and I waved to Brad, who was drinking coffee at the conference table. I walked over and put my arms around his neck, kissing his cheek.

  “Xander is investigating Layne’s background, and once I pull together all the informatio
n, I’ll go over it with you and we’ll decide what to do next.”

  “Appreciate all you’re doing.” Brad patted my hand.

  Creole and Didier grabbed coffee and sat down at the table.

  “Can anyone listen in?” Creole asked.

  Brad laughed. “Anyone has a secret, it doesn’t stay that way long.” He turned to me. “Thanks for the tip on using Cook to expedite getting Logan into school. He didn’t hesitate, and the next thing, his daughter was calling. Mila was excited to be walking Logan into school this morning. It was just sweet.”

  “Cook is one of those people that never says he can’t do something,” Creole said.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Madeline looked a little put out that she was under orders not to question you the other night at dinner.” Didier half-laughed. “I’m assuming she caught up with you.”

  “You know Mother. The next night, she showed up with food, played with the kids until bedtime, and got them tucked in without a single whine.” Brad’s smile disappeared. “She was really disappointed when I told her Logan wasn’t my bio child. She showed up ready for him to call her Gram.”

  “I love that about Mother—always room for one more.”

  Fab blew through the door and came running into the room. “You ready for the shootout?” She only had one hand to gun up the room; the other was filled with files.

  I stood and imitated her.

  Not one of the guys appreciated the humor.

  “We’re Miami-bound, and by the time we get there, Madison will have a plan worked up.” Fab winked at me.

  Creole and Didier rolled their eyes.

  “Now, now, none of that.” I shook my finger at them.

  The guys stood and walked us out to the Hummer, both of us getting kisses.

  Chapter Twenty

  “First stop, Milton Track’s house. I want to verify that this is a good address before handing it to his boss.” Fab turned onto a palm tree-lined street in South Beach, several blocks from the water and adjacent to a heavily trafficked road. She cruised slowly past a rundown mustard-yellow house with banana trees growing rampant around the entry. She circled the block and turned down the alley. Coming back to the front, she parked in the only available space, ignoring the sign that clearly stated, “Permit parking only.”

  “It’s unfortunate that the house has been neglected,” I said.

  “It’s a three-plex.”

  I scooted up and looked again. “It’s hard to believe that there’s million-dollar real estate a few blocks over.”

  “Xander was able to forward me great pictures. Inside the arch are three doors. Milton lives in number three, which backs up to the parking lot of the apartment building next door.” She pointed to the left.

  “I’ve got a pretty good idea what you’re doing, but since you weren’t forthcoming with details, I’ve got nothing for you.” I eyed her with raised eyebrows. “You’re here for more than address verification. Scaring the pee-dawdle out of him isn’t illegal. Just remember to stop before crossing that line—the one where you get arrested.”

  “That’s why, Ms. Bail Money, you’re going to stay in the car, and should I need it, you’ll snap your fingers and have me out of the joint pronto.”

  “Don’t think so.” I reached behind the seat and grabbed a tote I hadn’t dug around in in a while but knew would produce a trick or two. I pulled out a handful of pamphlets and waved them at her. “If your plan is to squeeze a confession out of Milty… here’s a freebie to get him to open the door. Although I doubt he’d confess unless you were pointing firepower at him, and I wouldn’t recommend that course of action. As for me, I’ll be in the background, ready to dispense a commiserating smile if you get hauled off.”

  “You’ve lost your mind.”

  “This is another of those Pot situations. Before you start an argument that won’t result in a winner, you might want to hustle your bum to the door before Milt heads out to work.” I tapped my wrist. We both got out, and I followed her up the cracked concrete pathway. “I’m going to try one more time—forget about Milton and hand over what you’ve collected to boss dude. He can check Milton’s personnel record should he need an address. That brings the case to a close. On your part anyway.”

  Fab ignored me as she hustled to the door and knocked politely. I hung back in the archway.

  The door cracked open, and Milton (I presumed) stuck his head out. Apparently liking what he saw, he opened the door wide, and the smell of weed wafted out. “Come on in, babe.” The skinny shirtless fifty-something was wearing a matted brown toupee that he was attempting to get to stick on the top of his head. He gave up and let it hang lopsided. It was hard to determine whether he’d slept in his suit pants or they were always a wrinkled mess.

  “You and I are going to have a talk.” Her tone held a hint of malice that I only heard on rare occasions.

  Fear flooded the man’s face. “What the hell?” He attempted to shut the door in Fab’s face, but she stopped that with a hard shove. “What do you want?” He jumped back a step.

  “You won’t get away with setting up Jimmy Jones. He’s not going to take the fall for a crime you committed.” Fab leaned forward, almost nose to nose.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling the cops.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’ll wait right here.” Fab snickered. “I’m certain that they’d like to hear why I’m camped on your doorstep.”

  Milton shoved his phone back in his pocket and lunged forward, his hands out.

  Fab twisted to one side and managed to grab the back of his pants in a wild yank.

  I stepped off the porch and into the dirt with the overgrown plants.

  The two stumbled through the arch. Then Milton jerked free and raced out to the sidewalk, tripping over a gaping crack. He righted himself and took off in a mad dash down the street.

  Fab and I moved out to the sidewalk to watch his flight. He turned into another parking lot two apartment buildings south. To my surprise, Fab motioned to me, and we got back in the car.

  “Milton went that way.” I pointed. “I’m surprised you didn’t run him down and kick his butt to the ground.”

  “Except that would get me arrested for assault.” Fab collapsed back against the seat. “This will surprise you, but I was hoping he would call the cops and I could tell them about the case I was hired to investigate since Gunz forbid me to call them myself.”

  “Wouldn’t they say that’s a judge’s decision to make?”

  “Several things need to happen before it gets in front of a judge. I’m guessing, since Milty’s on foot, that he’s hiding, waiting on our next move, and when we leave, he’ll go back to his apartment. Not that I had any doubt, but his running shows his guilt.” Fab pulled away from the curb and drove slowly, checking out where we’d seen Milton turn in. Surprisingly, she kept going.

  “Jimmy would probably like to face him in court and see the man get his due.”

  “I asked him, and he told me that he just wanted it over.” Fab pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to me. “One more stop.”

  I keyed it into the GPS, and when it came up Star Island, I knew she could find it without help. “The security guard won’t bother to stop you, if he’s even in his little house; I think he’s more for decoration. Once you’re on the island, what’s your plan for Mr. Bigwig’s house?”

  “Wing it, same as before, since that worked out so swell.” Fab grimaced.

  It was always a beautiful ride over the Causeway, and the brilliant blues of the water that surrounded it on both sides glistened today.

  Fab took the turn for Star Island and cruised past the guardhouse, where the man inside was drinking his morning brew from a local coffeehouse. She waved, turned to the right, and was just pulling up at a security gate at the far end when it rolled back and the pool people came driving out. I counted three men crammed into th
e front seat of the truck. The house wasn’t visible from the street.

  “I should mention to Mr. Allen that he might want to have the ‘don’t let anyone else in the gate’ talk with his contractors.” Fab cruised down the brick driveway and pulled up in front of a two-story Mediterranean villa with a garage on either side that could easily park ten cars.

  “If this mansion were for sale, would it be one of the cheaper ones on the island?”

  “At eighteen thousand square feet, it’s at the top end, with a value of forty million, minus a buck or two.”

  “Happy I don’t have to clean it.” I made a face.

  “You’d have staff,” Fab said in her snooty tone and pointed to the door. “You’re going with me, no arguments.”

  I got out and smoothed down my dress, happy that I hadn’t gone for obstinate and shown up in sweats. I knew full well she’d have driven me home to change.

  A foot from the door, I tugged on her arm. “Go all sexy and charm the pants off the man. Not completely off, but you get what I mean.”

  “Can you behave yourself?”

  “No worries. I’ll take a deep breath and trotted out the party manners.”

  Fab laughed, which surprised me. She rang the bell, which couldn’t be heard from outside, so we’d have to wait patiently to know if anyone heard it. Didn’t take long before a harried housekeeper threw open the door.

  “Mr. Allen is expecting us. I thought I was going to be late, and look, a couple of minutes to spare.” Fab oozed magnetism as she muscled her way in, sticking out her hand and introducing herself without a word about me. She continued to charm the woman right into a seat in the living room and sent her happily scurrying away to announce Fab to her boss.

  “Wow,” I said in a low tone. “Quite the performance. I’m impressed.”

  “Few people are nice to the help, and that’s plain stupid.”

  Mr. Allen stormed into the room. The grey-haired, sixty-ish man had an aggravated look on his face and exhaled anger after checking the two of us out and realizing he’d never met either of us before. No sign of the housekeeper. I hoped she wouldn’t be fired.