Overdose in Paradise Read online

  Fab set her drink down and flew out of her chair, throwing her arms around his neck and whispering in his ear.

  “Stop, you two. We’re about to eat dinner.” I scrunched up my nose.

  “As my assistant, you decide which lawyer to call and set it up,” Fab said, a sneaky smile on her face.

  I made a show of looking around, as though some other person had miraculously appeared. “That job has yet to be filled, due to your incessant foot-dragging. If you’re asking me, then do it nicely.”

  “Nicely,” she blurted with a huge smile.

  The guys laughed.

  “I’m going to hit up Emerson and see how that goes over.” It was an easy choice, since she was so approachable.

  The timer went off, and Creole served up plates of grilled fish and vegetable skewers, setting them on the table. Didier refilled our drinks.

  “Did you know the girls have an update for us?” Creole asked Didier. “Can you imagine? There’s something they haven’t told us.”

  “Shocking,” Didier said sarcastically.

  “Shall I flip to see who goes first?” I asked Fab.

  “I insist that you be the one.”

  “Once upon a time…” I started with a half-laugh.

  Both men frowned.

  “So…at our last visit with Dr. A, he gave Fab permission to search his house, and we did that.” I started to tell them what we’d found.

  Fab huffed at my lackluster explanation, cut in, and took them on the grand tour. Whatever the guys were expecting, it wasn’t this, and they wore their worry openly. She finished by detailing what we found when the boxes were opened at Spoon’s.

  “Now you know why I don’t want you involved,” Creole said.

  “Case closed. At least on our end.” I nudged Fab, who nodded in agreement.

  “You better keep your promise,” Didier growled at Fab.

  To lighten the mood, I said, “You know how, when Mother is up to something nefarious, she invites everyone to dinner? Then waits until everyone has eaten to spill the goods? I think I should pitch my ulterior motive while we’re all still enjoying the good food.”

  Fab clutched her chest. “You tricked us!”

  “That’s a good one. Something I would do.” I mimicked her.

  “You could’ve warned me.” Didier punched Creole’s shoulder.

  “And ruin the proposition? I think not. Besides, it’s not like you’re dealing with the sneakier of our two women.” Creole pulled me to him and kissed the top of my head.

  “I’m needing office space; we’re out of room here.” I waved my arm around. “Since the two of you have offered in the past, I want you to have the first opportunity to share space with me, as long as we can come to terms.”

  Creole arched a brow. “That’s an interesting way to start negotiations on a deal.”

  Didier smirked over the rim of his beer bottle. “I’m anxious to hear what you’ve got to say next.”

  “I hate to turn you down,” Fab said without a hint of remorse, “but you rejected our request to join us several times, and as you know, we’ve knocked out the walls to what would’ve been your office and incorporated the square footage into our space. So sorry.”

  “Nonsense. You’ve still got plenty of room, and that’s without disturbing your overly large floor plan. I want the oblong space where you replaced the hideous windows with French doors and have yet to decorate. It’s the perfect place for my ten-foot-long desk.” Seeing Fab was about to interrupt, I waved her off. “I happen to know that you’re only mulling over a few ideas for the space and have yet to decide on anything definite. And since there’s no door for privacy, we can talk about a screen for when I have a client. Something modernish. I will forego any suggestion of beachy, except for the large shell that I’ll need on display.”

  “Sold.” Didier slapped his hand on the table.

  “Hold on a second,” Fab hissed. “You’re supposed to negotiate. Deal. We can’t give in on everything.”

  “Sure you can,” Creole said.

  “I second what he said.” Didier pointed at Creole.

  Fab frowned at both men.

  “What do you want out of the deal?” I asked Fab.

  Fab was silent overly long. “No flip-flops.”

  “I won’t embarrass either one of you.” I winked at her. “I’ll keep a couple of changes of clothes and sweats and tennis shoes for when we have a shoot-out to go to.”

  Both men growled at the same time.

  “Just joking.” Fab and I exchanged smirks.

  “Since Creole cooked, I’ve got the dishes.” Didier stood and picked up plates.

  Fab followed him inside, I was certain to supervise his dish-doing skills.

  “That was yum, honey.” I stood up and leaned down to kiss Creole’s cheek, then grabbed the platter and cleaned off the rest of the table.

  “I’m impressed with your negotiating skills.” Creole relieved me of the platter and headed inside.

  Fab came outside a minute later. “I was thrown out.”

  “You’re okay with my deal?”

  “It’s about time. No furniture shopping without me.”

  “I found a couple of things already that I’m certain you’ll like. I’ll email you the links.”

  The guys were done cleaning the kitchen in short order. Creole flipped on the overhead string of lights that I’d talked him into, which illuminated the deck area with soft lighting, and we settled into the double chaises.

  “Now’s a good time to bring up what I want,” Fab said coyly. “I’m opening new negotiations.”

  Even Didier was caught off guard.

  My partner instinct kicked in, and I was certain I knew what she was about to propose. “So there are more terms?” I asked.

  “The office deal is done. This is about you moving in with us. As awesome as this house is, it is small. Besides, we’re a proven commodity when it comes to living together.”

  “Creole and I haven’t really talked about it. It’s been non-stop these last few weeks.”

  “I haven’t shared my idea with anyone but Madison, so I’ll catch you two up,” Creole said. “We agree we could use more square footage, and with that in mind, I pitched building a second story to Madison. Leave this level an open living and dining space, with the upstairs split into two bedrooms with ensuites. I’ve made a couple of sketches that I can show you later,” he said to Didier.

  “I suggested a curving staircase in the far corner,” I said.

  Didier appeared to give the idea some thought. “Do you think you can get the plans approved? Check with Madison’s friend in the Code Department and see if you’ll be able to get permits.”

  “It sounds great but still small,” Fab said.

  I squinted at her.

  “Once we decide, we’ll be sure to let you know first,” Creole said. “If we do decide to remodel, we’ll take you up on your offer and stay with you during construction.”

  “Another thing to think about is doing a complete tear-down—start from scratch,” Didier said. “You can’t forget the bedrooms you’re going to need for the eleven children you’re going to have—your half of the soccer team.”

  Fab rolled her eyes at me.

  “I’m not going to start squeezing out my side until you and your wife have produced at least half of your side,” I said. That wiped the smirk off Didier’s face and got a good laugh.

  “Okay Didier, you must have something to share,” Creole said.

  “As you know, the Boardwalk opening is coming up. I had an idea about that the other day, and Fab laughed so hard, she had to sit down.” Didier glared at her, although he was clearly amused.

  “Good time to share, buddy,” Creole said. “We’ll take a vote.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that this has something to do with me?” I mused. “You, best friend, didn’t tell me.” I pouted at Fab.

  “It’s not that bad. You know how you always say that if you c
an do anything to help…” Didier half-laughed.

  I groaned.

  “On opening day, load up your tenants from The Cottages and bring them over. Your step-daddy has a school bus connection, I believe.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” I came close to shrieking. “If you think they’ll boost the bottom line, you’re mistaken. The only thing they’ll part with their cash for is liquor. Then they’ll get drunk and pass out, and it will be my fault.”

  “Blame it on Mac,” Fab suggested.

  “That’s a great idea.” Creole grinned. “Load up the bus with your crazy tenants and their like-minded friends, and party on.”

  The guys laughed their heads off.

  “You’re in so much trouble,” I told Creole.

  “Looking forward to it.” He winked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Anyone home?” Fab yelled.

  “If you’re standing in the kitchen, you’re lucky that Creole isn’t here,” I yelled back. I’d brought my laptop out to the patio and was sitting under the umbrella. No better backdrop than the waves lapping on the shore.

  “Strawberry lemonade?” Fab stood in the doorway.

  “Yum!” I held my hand out. “How did your meeting go?”

  Fab settled in the chaise next to me.

  It had been a few days since I contacted Emerson for a legal referral. After questioning me about the case, she eagerly told me, “I’ll do it.” I forwarded her the information and the video I’d shot. She contacted the insurance company and informed them that Fab had legal representation.

  “Love Emerson.” Fab sipped her iced coffee. “She told me before we walked into the meeting to keep my answers short, which I already knew, but it was a good reminder. At first, I thought they were looking to make a case against me, and then the questions changed to what I knew about Mr. Mott.”

  “It probably was always about Mott. If you turned out to be the guilty one, you’d do jail time and be on a payment plan after your release—they’d still be on the hook to their client for whatever they didn’t recover.”

  “When the direction of the conversation changed to more personal questions about Mott, Emerson whispered for me to stick to what I knew and avoid any speculation.”

  “That’s a good one to remember.” I slurped up the last of the lemonade.

  Fab shook her head. “I explained what I was hired to do and that I didn’t get much accomplished before security arrived, and Emerson offered up the video as corroboration. I found it interesting that they’d run a check on me and asked why Mott would use a new company and virtual unknown for a security consultation. I was honestly at a loss for an answer; I wasn’t about to disclose that perhaps it was because he was an associate of my dead ex-husband. Instead, I told them I didn’t have the foggiest idea, which I’m not sure they bought.”

  “Let’s hope that’s the last we hear of Mott.”

  “Emerson’s certain that’s the end of it, and a time-waster as far as she was concerned. They knew everything I told them ahead of time from the police report. Emerson also told me to run future cases needing representation by her, and if it’s something she can’t handle, she’ll refer us on. She knew of Lucas Mark and was impressed that you got him to represent Dr. A.”

  “Did you tell her that I’m often seeking legal representation for tenants at The Cottages for bicycling drunk and other such felonies?”

  “I did, and she laughed. Once your brother finds out, he’ll talk her out of taking our calls. When I dropped her off, I promised a girl lunch.”

  “We’ll invite Mother and Mila,” I said.

  Fab laughed. “Mila ensures we’ll be on our best behavior—no getting drunk or looking for trouble.” Her phone rang, and she picked it up off the table, scowling at the screen. Fab answered without saying anything, which didn’t bother the other person, whose masculine voice could be heard coming over the line although the words were indistinguishable. “We’re on our way,” she said before hanging up.

  “Was that Didier?”

  Fab shook her head.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” I grabbed my laptop, putting it back on my lap. “I put every call on speakerphone, and you can’t return the favor? I get second-hand? I don’t think so.”

  “It was Toady.” Fab blew out a frustrated sigh. “You have to go; he’s got a problem on the stolen-cars job for Brick and says he needs to speak to you. He’s at the office, waiting on us.”

  I scowled at her.

  “That’s fine.” She held her phone up. “I’m going to call him back and tell him to come to your house.”

  “I’m calling your bluff. When Creole and Didier find out the Toad was here, you’ll be toast.”

  “You’re going.” Fab stood, gathered up the trash, and flounced into the house.

  I counted to ten, then got up and went inside. “I’m not going in my bathing suit.” I disappeared into the closet, coming out in a jean skirt and t-shirt. I slid into a pair of flat sandals, throwing a pair of tennis shoes in my bag, just in case. “Wonder how I can help on Brick’s case,” I said, following Fab out to the SUV.

  “Toady didn’t say, and since it’s your time he’s wasting, I didn’t bother to ask.” Fab pulled through the security gates. “I needed to go by the office anyway.”

  I stared out the window as she got on the main highway and took the first exit, curving around down to the docks. We passed Spoon’s garage, and as usual, it was hard to tell if they were open for business, but most likely they were, since it was afternoon.

  Fab hit a button, and the security gate for her office property opened. She pulled in and waited until it closed before driving into the warehouse garage. There were two warehouses on the property, and thus far, only one had been utilized for office space. The other stood empty.

  Expecting to see Toady’s beater truck, it surprised me when he climbed out of a classic baby blue Mercedes. The man never failed to amaze. He’d traded in his ratty jeans and beater shirt for bathing suit trunks, a tropical shirt, and cowboy boots.

  “Ladies.” He tipped his black straw cowboy hat. “Thank you for being so impromptu.” He blew Fab an air kiss as she skirted past him and up the stairs.

  The two-story warehouse had storage and parking on the bottom. Once you hopped the thirty-plus steps straight up to the second floor, you came to where Fab and Didier had their offices. The dark and dingy space had been transformed into an open area, Fab’s desk on one side and Didier’s on the other. He utilized more of the space, with the addition of a drawing board and a long conference table. The differentiation between the spaces was that Fab’s was all white, while Didier managed a splash of several colors.

  I peered around the corner into the space I wanted, expecting to see it already furnished with the pieces picked out, which wouldn’t have surprised me. But it was as I last saw it—awaiting furniture delivery. I’d ordered a couple of accessories that I planned to surprise Fab with once I had them in place.

  “Water, drink?” I asked, maneuvering around the island into the strip kitchen.

  “I’ll have me a Coke.” Toady held up his hand.

  Fab nodded, which I deciphered as meaning water.

  I retrieved the drinks and joined the two at Fab’s desk. Toady had pulled up a chair for me and pushed it into the corner where I liked to sit. Like Fab, I had an unobstructed view of the room. I set Toady’s can on a glass coaster with a look that said, ‘Don’t leave a watermark on Fab’s desk.’ I sat back, tempted to put my feet up, since Fab didn’t like it, but refrained. “You’ve got my full attention.” I nodded at Toady.

  “Not sure how much you know about the case I’m working on for Frenchie.” Toady downed his soda, stomping on the can and getting up to toss it in the trash and fetch another.

  “A bunch of classic cars were stolen; that’s about it.”

  “I found them.”

  His declaration surprised Fab. “Where are they?” she asked.

  �
��That’s the problem. Jimmy Spoon’s got them in his possession. For a couple of reasons—one being I don’t want to get on the man’s bad side—I was thinking that, since you’re related, you could facilitate the transfer.”

  “Spoon v Brick—I’d put my money on Spoon being the honest one in this equation. One thing I know for sure, is that Spoon isn’t a thief, so there’s something else going on here.” I certainly hadn’t been expecting this news. “I’ll talk to him, but it will cost your client money—my intervention services aren’t free—and there will be no mention of my name or Spoon’s.” I looked forward to hearing what was going on.

  “Can you do it now?” Toady tapped his watch. “I’ll wait.”

  “That depends.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and called Spoon. When he answered, I said, “If you’re with Mother, I have car trouble…some kind of clicking noise.”

  “If I’m not?” he chuckled.

  “I’d like to chat about the hauler of classic cars that’s in your possession.”

  The silence was deafening. “I’m in my office.”

  “It so happens, I’m at my new office. I’ll be there in under five.” I hung up.

  “No way you’re leaving here without me.” Fab stood. “Make yourself at home…sort of. Don’t make a mess,” she told Toady.

  “I’ll wait in my car. Too clean in here for me. Seriously, this place could use a little dust. It would make normal people feel comfortable.” Toady’s boots clomped across the floor.

  That would never happen. Cook’s wife had a cleaning service, which Fab used. They did an excellent job.

  The three of us raced down the steps, and at the bottom, Fab said, “I left the door unlocked in case you want another soda or it gets too hot.” Once inside the car, she added, “I don’t want him peeing on my property but didn’t have the nerve to say it.” She punched my arm. “Why are you laughing?”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to live at The Cottages. He’d fit right in.”