The grimace on Didier’s face made me smile. “Crime scene cleaner dude hasn’t heard from us in a while,” I said. “By the time he’s done, that spot will sparkle and there will be no sign of… anything.”
“You make that call,” Fab said.
I nodded.
The banging on the front door stopped all conversation. Creole stood, set me off his lap, and went to open the door, Didier at his side.
“Check the peephole first,” I said to their backs.
Creole turned and grinned.
Fab crossed over and sat down next to me. “You really okay?”
“I did my best to suck up some of the calming energy you sent my way and not do anything that would provoke Roberts to shoot.”
Fab put her arm around me and gave me a side hug. “His eyes were a vacant, icy wasteland. Not sure how I held out for so long in his game of stare-down.”
“He’s dead now, and I’m happy. It means he won’t be terrorizing anyone again.”
“Xander gets a bonus for coming up with the code alert,” Fab said. “And forcing the caller to shut it off was a great idea.”
“You should be the one to tell him. Also that you were the one to suggest the bonus.”
Fab flicked her gaze over my shoulder and groaned. “Guess who’s leading the cop parade?”
“Kevin’s calm in intense situations. It’s when he thinks we’re gaming him that he gets all grouchy.” I grabbed Fab’s hand. “Don’t leave me until we’re separated.”
“Creole intercepted Kev and has the situation under control. Didier’s picked up a few tips for dealing with cops and can hold his own.” Fab half-laughed. “I’m lucky he doesn’t trade me in for someone not so high-maintenance.”
“Boring.”
“I asked him if he wished he’d chosen a more housewifey type, and he laughed. Then said, ‘Hell no,’ for which I rewarded him.”
“You two doing okay?” Kevin asked as he walked up and sat down on one of the ottomans.
“Roberts was a psycho freak,” I said.
Kevin questioned me, then Fab.
“You should tell Kevin what we knew about the man before today.” I nudged Fab.
She gave him the rundown on Roberts and didn’t skimp on details, telling him everything we’d learned about the man.
Kevin shook his head. “No need to worry about him getting out of prison this time.” He stood. “Don’t go anywhere, in case I have a few more questions.”
We pushed our chairs closer to the edge of the patio and stared out at the water.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
When the police told us we were free to wander off—not in those words—Fab and I hotfooted it over to my house with no hesitation. Fab and Didier were our house guests for three days, and I barely made a dent in showing them the same hospitality they’d shown Creole and me when we stayed with them.
The husbands issued the edict that all talk of crime and criminals was banned and took over, orchestrating fun and cooking all the meals.
I put in a call to the crime scene cleaner dude, who said he’d sprint right over. He arrived with his crew, and they disinfected Fab’s house in short order. One of the workmen remarked to Didier that, “This was an easy clean-up compared to some. You know, blood splattered everywhere.” Didier told us, “I was happy when one of the other men whistled for his attention.” Neither Fab nor Didier were creeped out about returning, and as soon as their house was spotless, they went back.
It had been fun to have them as guests, and they promised, when they were on their way out the door, that we’d do it more often.
Another week went by, and Fab and I kept a low profile, which pleased the husbands. It didn’t escape our notice that they were keeping an eagle eye on us, making sure we didn’t sneak off… at least not without one of them.
Finally, the day of the welcome party for Cruz’s relatives arrived.
I’d decided I needed something new to wear and found the perfect dress in one of my favorite stores. I twirled in front of the mirror in a loose-fitting, knee-length, hot-pink, spaghetti-strap sundress. The crisscross opening in the back made the sell. I slid into a pair of pink wedge flip-flops and decided on several bamboo bracelets, then pulled my hair into a high ponytail.
My plan was to arrive at The Cottages early and leave early, putting in a brief appearance with a smile pasted on my face to make the guests happy. To say that life had been hectic would be an understatement. I hadn’t stayed up on the party plans and hoped that it turned out to be a low-key day. If that was possible.
Creole had gotten up with the birds and disappeared; I suspected he didn’t want me making him feel guilty for not being my date. I’d teased that I’d guard his body from the eager women, which didn’t elicit a laugh; instead, he’d kissed me before changing the subject.
I grabbed my purse and headed to the kitchen to grab a cup of personality in a mug, maybe some whipped cream. It surprised me to see my favorite threesome sitting around the island. My neck hairs warned me that something was up, but before I could voice my concerns, Creole’s and Didier’s matching smirks distracted me. Fab slid off the stool and stepped back, showing off an oversized terry bathrobe. Who knew she owned something so un-sexy and would wear it out of the house? She probably wasn’t sweltering, despite being all wrapped up like that, since the air was on.
“Not to be rude—” I eyed Fab up and down. “—but I didn’t know you wore any intimate apparel that wasn’t silky and sexy.” I sidled up next to Creole and brushed his cheek with my lips. He looped an arm around me.
“I wore this special for you.” Fab curtsied.
I laughed. “So sweet of you.”
Didier worked some magic with the latte machine, added ingredients I couldn’t see, then turned and set a steaming brew in front of me, which the mind reader topped off with a generous serving of whipped cream.
I licked my lips. “Hopefully this tastes as good as it looks… but know that if there’s the slightest bit of ick going on, I’m pouring it out.”
“Bonjour.” Didier winked. “I promise—” He crossed his heart. “—not one healthy ingredient.”
I took a drink and sighed. “Caramel latte, my favorite. You’re the bestest.”
“These two are slugs.” Fab motioned between Creole and Didier. “But me, I’m the best friend ever.”
“Ever?” I laughed.
“Yes.” She shook her finger at me, then stepped back, untied her bathrobe, and shucked it off, letting it fall to the floor and revealing a flared black v-neck, a-line swing dress. “Surprise. I’m going to be your date for today’s festivities.”
I rushed around the island, fighting the urge to get emotional, and wrapped her in a hug. Then I took a step back, lifted the hem of my dress, and flashed my Glock, strapped to my thigh.
“Me too,” Fab squealed and flashed me.
Creole and Didier stood back, both sporting amused looks.
“You really are the best.” I smiled.
“I got to thinking, and what if… I missed something really fun? You know how much that would bug me?” Fab slung her arm around me. “Don’t worry about us, boys; we’ll be back when we get here.” She herded me toward the door.
I turned and said, “Don’t you worry your pretty heads about what could go wrong.” I winked at the two men.
Fab and I laughed and let the door close on their answer.
I gave her a shove toward the passenger side, then ran around and slid behind the wheel quick, in case she tried to stop me, which she didn’t. That surprised me. “I want to show off a little.” I backed out of the driveway and hit the gas, squealing toward the gate.
“Whatever you’re up to, stop now. If I’m the one to barf, I won’t be rolling down the window.” Fab imitated the sound.
“The hot, sexy French woman barfing in the car.” I laughed. “You can bet I’ll get pictures. Try living that down. For now, hang onto the sissy bar and let me demonstrate what I�
�ve learned from you. You can decide for yourself if I’ve paid close enough attention.”
“You’re going to impress me with your driving skills?” She turned her head both ways as I cut across the highway.
I patted her arm. “I’ll get us there in one piece.”
“So you know, our husbands are up to something.”
“Hopefully that means something fun for us.” I curved into a residential area, turned into a driveway and, figuring out quickly it was the wrong one, had to U-turn. Backtracking, I found the shortcut, not missing Fab’s smirk.
She slapped the dash. “I know what you’re up to now. When you get lost, I get to drive.”
“This shortcut business that you pull off so flawlessly isn’t as easy as you make it seem.” I made several more unnecessary turns, Fab laughing, but I got us to The Cottages in one piece.
I backed into Mac’s driveway and parked. We’d had permission since she moved in, and it had never been rescinded.
Fab clapped. “I had my doubts, but you got us here.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Fab and I leaned forward and stared out the windshield. There were so many things to look at, it was hard to know where to turn our attention. Police tape blocked the entrance to the driveway. Tied from the palm tree to a pole on the other side, a string of inflatable mannequins flapped in the wind. A man I vaguely recognized had parked his butt in a chair, wearing a multi-colored umbrella hat that shaded his shoulders and holding a clipboard in his lap, a small ice chest at his feet. He opened the lid, removed a beer, twisted off the cap, and sucked it half down before shoving it between his legs.
“What the heck is going on?” Fab asked, a bit of awe in her tone. “So much for me thinking this was a ‘free beer around the pool’ get-together.”
“I don’t know why you didn’t remind me to ask more questions.” I tried to make out what was happening underneath the hundred balloons that floated overhead, hovering along the line of tables and umbrellas that ran the length of the driveway, where several women had claimed chairs. “I wonder if Cruz’s relations have checked in?” I turned my attention to the barbecue area, where the two benches were crowded with more women. That was a first. One of them jumped up, waved, and ran over to the tables. She was directed down the row, where she took a seat.
Fab said, “For a big-time lawyer, it surprises me that Cruz lets his relations jerk him around. Is Granny included in this celebration?”
“If Ms. Bag of Trouble is in attendance, I’m going to make it your responsibility to keep her in line.” I ignored her scrunched up nose. At one hundred, slight exaggeration, Cruz’s Granny had the libido of a spring breaker. “You’ve got the inside track, since she likes you and finds me lacking in all areas.”
Fab shook her head, clearly not in agreement.
The short bus pulled up wrapped in streamers, balloons hanging out of every window. Oversized gloved hands were attached along the side, waving wildly.
Fab laughed.
Mac came running out of the office dressed in a bright-red maid’s outfit that barely covered her cheeks, her girls pushed up to her chin. She grabbed a whistle from her cleavage, stuck it in her mouth, and blew a blast loud enough to wake the dead. The bus doors opened, and people trooped down the steps. Casio’s brood, Mila, and Logan, came running around the corner from the pool, Larry trailing behind, not letting them out of his sight.
“Kids?” Fab said, aghast.
“If I’d known they invited a dog, I’d have brought my cats.”
Fab snorted, then laughed.
After instruction from Mac, the kids—except for Logan, who hung onto her hand—each darted to one of the guests, singing a welcoming ‘Hello.’ Alex raced to the office and was back quickly, wheeling an oversized wagon. He opened the back door of the bus and unloaded the suitcases, piling them haphazardly in the wagon. Crum hustled through the trees in a pair of baggy shorts six sizes too large, a rope tied around his waist, a pair of coconuts strapped to his chest, and a lei around his neck that even from a distance we could see sported fake flowers, a number of them in sad shape. He was wearing a straw hat, the ends sticking up in all directions. Bungee cords in his hand, he secured the luggage to the wagon.
The hearse pulled up, capturing everyone’s attention, and all the talking over one another stopped. The guard kicked the beer box he had his feet resting on, and it landed in some nearby flowers. He jumped to his feet and removed one side of the tape to allow the car to enter. The driver slowed, and the two talked. Then the hearse continued down to the end and parked, clearly on display, not pulling all the way into the space. The tape was replaced.
“Joseph died, and no one told me.” I covered my face with my hands.
“Don’t think so.” Fab knocked my shoulder. “Look.” She nudged me again. “What the heck are they doing?”
I opened my eyes and saw that Dickie and Raul had opened the back door. I expected a stretcher—coffin?—but they unloaded two rolling makeup cases, each man grabbing one and rolling them toward the tables. Female squeals greeted their arrival.
“We might as well check this out.” Fab got out.
I grabbed her arm. “I heard there’d be an open bar; I’d rather make that our first stop.”
“No.” She sounded too much like Mother. “You need to save saucing it up for later.”
It turned out that the barbeque area was the waiting area to have your makeup and hair done. The handful of women, who I assumed were guests, were all excited.
A flashy blonde, half of her hair purple, pointed at one of the women and motioned her to follow. She and another woman with a neon do were styling hair.
“Those women have drinks. I want one,” I whined, pointing to the women waiting to avail themselves of Dickie’s makeup skills, which he usually used on dead people. This must be a nice change for him.
Fab turned me away from several sets of eyes that were closely scrutinizing the two of us. “You behave.” She gave me a slight shake. “I’m going to talk to our digger friends.”
“Are you getting your makeup done?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m thinking yes.”
“You go find Mac and get an update; then we’ll compare notes.” Fab headed over to the line of tables, every chair filled, the laughter a good sign everyone was having a good time.
Mac was easy to find. She’d finished getting everyone checked into their cottages and stood in the middle of the driveway, surveying all she’d done. I crooked my finger, and she came stomping over in white platform shoes with red crosses on the tops.
“Before you start—”
“This is a lot,” I interrupted.
“Oh no you don’t, not in that tone.” Mac crossed her arms, pushing her boobs up further. “I told you all about this special day. Now don’t toot on it.”
“I wasn’t… uh… complaining or anything.”
“Oh yes, you were. Now just suck in a breath and have a good time. Get liquored up.” Mac pointed me toward the pool, as though I didn’t know where the tiki bar was located.
Fab joined us. “It was very special of you to arrange for the ladies to be made over. They’re enjoying every minute.” Out of view of Mac, she smirked.
“They bury people,” I said, as though they didn’t know. “I’m sure the two of them have… uhm… talents…” Dickie for sure.
“If you hustled your backside over there, I’m sure you could cut in line, get your makeover, and be able to calm your reservations.” Mac smiled like she’d just had the best idea ever.
“I do not need a makeover,” I grumbled. “Besides…” I twirled in my new dress. “I look good.”
Fab nodded.
“I should’ve been more specific,” Mac said. “The theme is Festival, and a costumey outfit would be more appropriate.”
“I wouldn’t want to spoil your festival.” I’d wanted to leave early, and now Fab and I could go to lunch.
�
�Don’t you dare even think about sneaking out of here.” Mac shot me the stink eye. “Walk around, introduce yourself; that will make the guests happy. I’ve got to run and check on everyone, reiterate that there’s fun to be had.” She skipped off in her platforms.
“I had a couple of questions for her, and she thought I was going to go all ’tudey. I’m so misunderstood.”
Fab laughed at me. “I’m thinking you were right when you suggested that we have a drink. Because it’s kind of early, we’ll sip slow.” She grabbed my arm, and we headed to the pool. “Don’t ask Crum about Nix,” she said conspiratorially. “She met someone with the same IQ, and the two skipped down to Key West. Left the return date open.”
“If he brings it up, I’ll pretend it’s the first I’m hearing about it.”
We rounded the corner and halted at the gate to the pool, which stood open. Crum, clearly in charge, had the women up and dancing, not a one in a costume, all in bathing suits. Under the thatched umbrella, a group of men were playing cards. Brad and Casio supervised the kids, who were now done with their heavy labor and jumping around in the pool, Logan in a sailboat floatie, hat on his head.
Fab ordered two drinks from Joseph, who had Svetlana strapped to his back.
“Good to see you both.” I waved to the man as we slipped onto bar stools. “Svet comfortable up there?”
“Got to keep an eye on her, since she’s a man magnet. Don’t want anyone pawing her.”
I nodded, unsure what to say.
Fab nudged me and nodded toward the gate. I turned as Creole and Didier walked into the pool area, both men in shorts, their shirts unbuttoned, giving any woman who wanted to look an eyeful of abs. And they were all staring in appreciation.
The men walked up and greeted Joseph and Svet.
I pulled Creole down to face level. “You need to button up.”
He laughed, as did Didier, who’d heard me.
“I thought you wanted man candy. Here we are.” He hooked an arm around Didier’s shoulders, and both men stuck their chests out.
Bodies in Paradise Page 24
