Trouble in Paradise (17 page)

“You be careful of him,” Fab warned. “I did a little
checking. The phone number on his business card vouches for him but the address
is an empty lot.”

I unhooked my bra, threw it over the banister, and then
pulled my dress back into place. “The Elizabeth connection is all I need. And
it’s been verified with diary entries that were kept in her special box, and pictures
of them together at various times over their lives, a lot of them taken here
around the pool.” I sat in an oversized chair across from Fab. I chose each
piece of furniture for its comfort; this chair belonged to my aunt and I’d had
it reupholstered.

“Who knows if that’s all true? Anything can be forged. A
little hard to ask Elizabeth herself.”

“We could do a séance,” I suggested.

“No, no and no to the séance and I mean it.” Fab pounded her
fist on the coffee table. “Tell me about your night.”

“Zach showed up in a tux, looking yummy, not happy to see me
there with a date. I love it when Mother arranges these outings and they turn
extremely awkward.”

“I feel bad for my part in this; it sounded fun when your
Mother first recruited me.”

“Oh, I almost forgot, remember Zach’s client Buckshot? He
was there with the wife.” I rolled my eyes. “Cynthia drools at the mention of
Zach’s name, doesn’t her husband notice?”

“If you’d just shot her in the bathroom that first time,
Bucky could’ve moved on to another blond trophy.”

“Can you imagine, our first real date and I shoot the
client’s wife.” We both laughed.

“And the rest of the evening?” Fab asked.

“I lacked the appropriate appreciation for some of the art.
It was hard to make small talk when I didn’t understand it or get it or
whatever one is supposed to think looking at modern art.” I sighed. “My
favorite part was dressing up in this fabulous dress, the ginormous boobs, and
Mother’s jewelry. Do you think I get to keep this piece?” I fingered the
diamond heart necklace.

“Borrowing is one thing, keeping is another.”

“I felt princessy and not a single worry about turning into
a pumpkin.”

Fab shook her head. “You can’t get your clichés or your
fairy tales right.”

The morning sun streamed through the bedroom window. The
baby blue sky and white fluffy clouds were a prelude to a perfect day. If one
listened, you could hear the sounds of nature in the still of the morning. I
loved waking up next to Zach. He showed up when it was pitch black outside. The
mattress bounced underneath me, announcing his arrival. I rolled into his arms
and we fell asleep.

“What are you doing?” Zach asked.

“Checking out to see how tan I am.” I extended my leg
straight into the air.

“Wrap it around my waist and we’ll compare tan lines.”

I rolled on my side, resting my foot on his butt. “This is a
good way to start the day.”

“Have you noticed I haven’t complained about your new PI
career lately?” Zach whispered against my cheek.

“That’s because I get all the weasel jobs from Brick.” I
sighed. “FYI: I stopped taking his calls since the arrest.”

“Don’t you think I should be rewarded?” He nibbled on my
shoulder. “I really want you to stay away from Creole. He’s big trouble and I
don’t want you ending up in jail again. You might not be able to get out so
easily if he’s involved.”

“Talk to him, resolve your issues… please.” I kissed him
lightly.

“Too late for that. I want a closer inspection of all that
cleavage.”

“The girls were pretty spectacular but it came with a price
of pain. What’s the latest on Cosmo? Arrest imminent?”

“As you know, my office has several connections inside the
Miami police department. It’s still an open case file, only crackpot leads,
nothing credible. I’d know if there was anything new. They’re feeling
frustrated but definitely not giving up.”

“That sucks for Pastor Rich.” The not knowing must be
gnawing at him.

“Slice is the one who keeps up on the case more than I do.
He knows the Pastor and likes him.” Zach checked the clock. “I’ve got to leave.
I can’t believe you talked through what could’ve been morning sex.”

“There’s still the shower. We’ve been known to be adept at
doing two things at once.” I jumped off the bed. The rule had already been
established: first one in the shower got their back washed first.

The smell of coffee brewing drifted up the stairs as I made
my way downstairs. “You even have a cup waiting for me,” I said to Fab. She sat
at the island and had clearly fed Jazz, since he lay asleep in the middle of
floor requiring one to step over him.

“Sorry, get your own.” Fab poured coffee into two mugs.

“Bon jour.” Fab’s friend Didier made his shirtless
appearance in the kitchen. He smiled, spoke in French to Fab, and kissed her.

“Who the hell are you?” Zach demanded, making his
appearance.

The four of us sharing coffee wasn’t how I wanted to
introduce Didier. In fact, I wanted to avoid this moment all together.

Before he had a chance to respond, I said, “Fab’s friend,
Didier.” I poured Zach’s coffee into an adult sippy cup and handed it to him.
The two men nodded their heads in acknowledgment. Fab pulled Didier by the arm
into the living room.

“You’re staring at him. What am I?” Zach asked.

“Honey you know I’m the number one fan of your…” I ran my
finger down his torso. He caught my hand in his when I got to his pants. He
jerked me to him, smiling.

“You want me to throw them both out?” Zach whispered in my
ear.

“Have a nice day at the office, honey.” I kissed him. He
grunted at Fab and Didier and disappeared through the French doors.

“I have to leave also,” Didier said in that wonderful
accent. He pulled a tight t-shirt over his torso and left by the front door.

Fab got a much better kiss from Didier than I did from Zach.

“You stared the whole time,” Fab said.

“I’ll bet that never happens, like all the time.”

I took a green plastic platter out of the cupboard and
reached for the pink bakery box.

“What are you doing?” Fab asked. 

“Channeling my mother! I’m putting these chocolate chip
cookies on this platter and passing them off as homemade. A trick I learned
from the master at an early age.”

Fab grabbed two out of the box. “Who’s the lucky recipient?”

“I’m going to Tolbert’s, dropping off the cookies and then
going to The Cottages.”

“You’re going to pass off store bought as homemade to a
preacher?” Fab didn’t wait for an answer. “Now that’s some karma.”

Fab threw the front door open like a tornado blowing in,
slamming it behind her. “I need muscle this afternoon.” She flexed her arm.
“We’re moving a few boxes. I already have the moving truck.” Then adding, “For
charity.”

“I don’t believe one word you’re saying,” I said. “I’m
busy.”

“Who in the hell else am I going to ask?” Fab yelled.

“Rule one for asking a favor: try telling me a truthful
story up front.”

Fab grumbled something under her breath. “I have a new
client. She needs help in getting away from her abusive husband before he kills
her. I need your help in putting my three-step getaway plan into motion.”

“You of all people know I rarely say no to anyone, least of
all you.” I handed Fab my glass to fill with ice since she was closest to the
refrigerator. “Of course, I’ll help.”

“I borrowed a truck from Mercy House. We’re going to my
client’s house this afternoon to pick up boxes and an assortment of old kids
toys that were left on the curb, and then leave.”

“Does Mercy House know you borrowed the truck?”

“Yes,” Fab said in a huff. “Wendy remembered me from when we
were in there looking for Pot’s dead mother. She was very understanding. Turns
out she volunteers at the women’s shelter. I gave her one of our ridiculous
business cards.”

“Good thing I carry a gun as a fashion accessory. I’m going
to need it when you slip and call Kettle ‘Pot’ to her face.” I shook my head.
“What’s in the boxes?” If this was a Brick job, one could count on something
unexpected; gunfire, dogs, none of his jobs were without unpleasant surprises.
“Does the client have a name?”

“The client’s name is Rachel. She’s managed to box a few
personal belongings for her and the kid to start their new lives. I told her to
leave other things out that would be visible to her husband so he wouldn’t get
suspicious.”  

Fab’s phone rang. “Are they ready?” she asked. The call
lasted less than thirty seconds.

“The second part of the plan is where you’re on your own,”
Fab told me. “When the middle school gets out this afternoon you’ll meet Rachel
when she picks up her son and pass on the travel arrangements. You need to look
like any other mother picking up her child. Be quick, pass on the information
and leave.”

“Why not go to her house?” I asked.

“Her husband, Sabrosa, shows up at odd times, and he has the
neighbors watching the house. He caught me coming down the walkway the last
time; screamed at me, pointing at the no trespassing sign. I told him I was
there to tell him how to get heaven, then handed him a religious pamphlet
someone gave me a couple of weeks ago.”

I couldn’t resist. “How do you get to heaven?”

“Don’t ask me. I saved it because I thought it might come in
handy. Doesn’t mean I read it. I made sure to tell him that no one was home.
That’s why I can’t show up at the school. He shows up there a couple times a
week, and if he pops out of the bushes and sees me again he’ll get suspicious.”

“I can make the school scenario look real. I’ll call Julie
and see if it’s okay to pick up Liam.” Jazz rubbed up against my legs, a nice
way of saying he was hungry before he started howling.

“Huh, that’s a good idea.”

“Don’t look so shocked, I have damn good ideas all the time.
Don’t you worry that, in the end, the husband will find her? It’s easy to do
these days.”

“Rachel has a connection to Brick; she’s a college friend of
one of his sisters. He arranged a new life for Rachel and her son Michael. If
she does exactly what Brick tells her, the husband will never find her.”

“Better idea, why doesn’t Brick just kill him?” I asked.

“He’d have to kill all of Sabrosa’s brothers. He comes from
a long line of creepy.”

“Give me a good reason as to why you’re moping out here on
such a beautiful day?” Liam sat poolside in a chair staring into space. “Your
face has the uh-oh I’m in trouble look.”

“You might want to sit down.”

“Just tell me. I’m good with problems.” I kicked off my
newest pair of black wedge flops, and stuck my feet in the water.

“Remember when you said I could borrow the lawnmower? Well
uh… Harv and I wrecked it,” Liam blurted.

The lawnmower had a checkered history for its short life;
pawned, now wrecked and had even been on a local road tour. The new seat I had
to buy was worth the price after Jax’s worthless cousin stood on it, and fell
off, giving him a minor concussion and a couple of big bruises.

I remembered being distracted at the time Liam asked about
the lawnmower and apparently I didn’t ask enough questions.

“Start at the beginning and where’s Harvey?” I sighed.

“It’s Harvard. He’s at my house, but could we leave him out
of this? His father is scary and it wouldn’t be good if he found out.”

“How do you wreck a lawnmower mowing lawns?” I’d never rat
the two of them out to their parents but I’d make them squirm a little.

“We entered The Cove One Hundred Lawnmower races that are in
two weeks. We needed to practice so we used yours, ran through a hedge, and
clipped a tree.”

Poor lawnmower! “How did you get the keys to the mower?”

“Gardener Girl let us into the shed when I told her I had
your permission.” Liam stammered, “I have enough money saved to pay to get it
fixed.”

“What’s Harvard’s role in all this?” As a teenager I could
see myself roping my brother into appropriating the lawnmower and off to the
races we’d go. The pool gate opened and a young boy Liam’s age walked in. “It
was my idea to enter the races.”

“Harvard, I presume?” I asked.

Harvard nodded; a bundle of nerves and looked ready to be
sick at any moment. “I ran all of the details of the lawnmower races by my father,
I didn’t leave anything out, and he gave permission to use our family’s.” He
sat down next to Liam. “When it came time to practice, he told me all he agreed
to was that I could be in the races. He said, ‘Don’t touch my lawnmower.’ I did
it to be friends with Liam, so he’d think I was cool.”

“Are you both okay?” The races sounded fun and if I’d known
all the details I would’ve probably said yes. Lesson to me. They could’ve been
hurt.

They both said yes in unison.

“How bad is the damage?”

“The front corner is caved in. It stopped running, and then
we had to push it back from the practice field,” Harvard said. “I’m the new kid
and tired of having no friends.”      

I remember my father telling me, a smart person learns from
their bad decisions and doesn’t make them again. There were lessons here for
the three of us.

The Cove held lawnmower races every two years; a tourist
attraction of sorts. Having zero interest, my knowledge was limited. The riders
raced modified mowers, blades removed. These races were taken seriously by
rednecks and drunks, most entered for fun.

“You two are lucky I can remember vividly being a kid once.”
I felt grateful it was only a wrecked lawnmower. “I’m giving you Moron’s phone
number. Liam knows him, and he can fix anything. If Moron asks for your help, I
expect you to leap at the chance, no complaining. This is our secret, no one
else needs to know anything.”

“You’re not going to tell my father?” Harvard looked
relieved.