Bodies in Paradise Read online

  “Do you have a contact number for them?” I asked.

  “They’re still reeling from the fire; the grandson is the one you want to talk to. Cook said to put the two of you together. He lives close by and can be here in five minutes, if he’s got clothes on.” Bouff grinned.

  “I believe this place has corrupted you,” I said with a shake of my head. “Call him. Might as well take care of this now. No nudity.”

  “Gotcha.” Bouff took out his phone and backed up.

  I poured a soda and went out to the deck, barely getting seated before Kevin came tromping out and pulled up a chair.

  “It’s a ‘she said, she said,’ so…” Kevin said.

  “Excuse me, officer,” I said. He looked faintly amused for a change. “We have security footage that will back up one story or the other. I left it up to Doodad to decide whether to show it to you.”

  “That will make my job easy.” Kevin stood and headed back inside.

  “He might be in the office,” I called to his receding back.

  As it turned out, he was standing in the middle of the bar, talking to the other officer. Kevin joined the two, and after a brief conversation, followed Doodad into the office. It took a while before the men came back out. Doodad slid behind the bar as Kevin put cuffs on the woman and walked her out.

  Kelpie slipped back behind the bar and began entertaining her audience, who showed their appreciation by clapping and hooting.

  I had one eye on the front door when it opened and a new face walked in—easy 6’ 5”, broad-shouldered frame. His intense grey eyes swept the interior of the bar. In the corner, two tipsy women engaged in a game of drunk darts leered as the man walked to the end of the bar to join Bouff, who’d beckoned him over and handed him a drink. After a few words, the two men came out to the deck.

  “Mark Vickers,” Bouff introduced him to Fab and I, then pointed to a seat.

  “How do you two know each other?” I asked Mark.

  “Bouff and I served together, then discovered that we lived down the road from each other.”

  I smiled at him. “Ass-kickers get the free-drink discount.” Mark laughed. “Just know if word gets out, I suspect a few will get sauced to get their nerve up and pick a fight.”

  “Bouff has told me a couple of good stories about this place. Thought they needed work to be believable, but I guess I’ll have to rethink that and give him credit for not being totally full of it.” Both men laughed.

  “As you probably know, Cook asked the two of us to investigate the fire,” I said, indicating Fab with a wave. “Thus far, I’ve been able to accomplish a couple of things. I put out word that I’m willing to pay for credible information on who set the fire and ordered a background check on Travis West. Not sure what it will turn up, but you never know.”

  “I’m impressed. I didn’t expect to hear that any progress had been made. Figured this would take months.”

  “Even if we’re able to get the arsonist locked up, I’m not certain that solves your problem of re-opening, at least not in that location,” I said.

  “The last thing I want to do is disappoint my grandparents.” Mark smiled at the thought of them. “I don’t want to take over the family business but hadn’t had that discussion with them. The fire has caused me to fess up, and like always, they were amazing.”

  “What is it you’d like to see happen?” Fab asked.

  “I’d like restitution for the business and to sell the land so my grandparents can enjoy their retirement. It would give them extra money to go places they hadn’t thought about.” Mark sighed.

  Fab stuck her head in the door and signaled Kelpie, flashing her fingers at the woman in a way that only they understood. It was minutes later when a busboy came out and served drinks, and not a one got sent back.

  “I’ve been thinking we might need a backup plan,” I said.

  Fab rolled her eyes, and the three of us saw her. The guys laughed. I faux-glared. “One thing about Madison—she always comes up with a plan. Do they always work? No… but those are the ones that turn out to be the most fun.”

  It was hard not to laugh along with the guys.

  “I need to run my idea by you because I’ll want your okay and will need you to play along. Been thinking about the strip of land, and about the only use I can come up with for it—aside from a food truck location—is putting one of those tiny houses on it, which makes it a hard sell to Joe Shmo.”

  “Who?” Fab’s look clearly conveyed that I’d lost my mind.

  “He’s not one of your Frenchy friends, so you probably haven’t met.” I ended with a phony smile.

  Mark looked down. Bouff grinned, but he was used to the two of us.

  “Where was I?” I gobbled down a cherry. “I’m thinking about approaching West and introducing myself as his neighbor-to-be, which I’m hoping will motivate him to up his original offer.”

  “I hate to suck the wind out of your idea, but West wants a fire sale price. Had the nerve to laugh when he said it,” Mark said.

  “That’s because he thinks he’s got the upper hand, having decided that no one will come along and offer on the property. Besides, you know what they say about never saying never?”

  “What’s your plan to get West to listen and avoid getting tossed off his doorstep, if you make it that far?” Mark asked.

  “First off, I’m going to make him come to me. When he does, I’ll let him know that I’ve already submitted an offer and there’s a slight hiccup due to a pending criminal investigation, but as soon as the file is closed, I’ll be closing the deal. In the meantime, the rest of my assorted crew will show him firsthand how we can liven up the neighborhood.”

  Bouff laughed.

  Mark looked confused, having no clue what kind of folks I could turn out.

  “What I’m going to need from you is, when the police call—and I’m sure they will—to assure them I’m not trespassing. I promise that we won’t be engaging in any kind of illegal activities, just offering a taste of damn annoying, so West knows that if my offer’s accepted, the circus will never end.”

  “When Bouff mentioned you, he shared a few stories. I thought he was blowing smoke out his… Not sure how you challenging West will work out. If you pull off your plan, I’ll be very appreciative.”

  “Ding, ding.” Fab waved her hand. “Favors.” She went on to explain that when a favor’s called in, skip the excuses and put out. “Nothing illegal,” she added at Mark’s raised eyebrows.

  “If I need to come up with another way to seal West’s disgust, I could follow through on my margarita wagon idea and show up with one, complete with drunk friends.”

  “He’s going to grind down his molars,” Mark said with a smile. “After my one conversation with the man, I couldn’t get away fast enough or I’d have rearranged all his teeth.”

  “You know what the property is worth,” I said. “West comes to you with an offer, double or triple it. No bargains for the man.”

  Fab handed Mark her card. “Or refer him to me, and I’ll handle the negotiations.” She trotted out creepy-girl smile.

  Both men did a double take. Bouff laughed.

  “It will take me a few days to get the guest list together for my little gathering. Then I’ll call you and let you know when party day is happening.”

  “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “No, thanks necessary. I’m just hoping to wangle a big check out of West.”

  Fab tapped her watch.

  “I’ll be in touch.” We all went back inside and split up.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fab headed straight to the office. We both needed to avail ourselves of Xander’s talent for uncovering information. Lately, it seemed as though we were deluging him with requests.

  “I originally wanted to figure out a way to force West to admit that he was behind the arson, but realized that had a minute chance of success. Now I’m thinking my new plan has a better likelihood of getting the Vickers
what they want.”

  “I never doubted that you’d come up with something.” Fab laughed. “Since you were light on details, you might as well run them by me, and I’ll tell you if you’ve completely lost your mind.

  “We know West thought the Taco Barr was an eyesore and not up to his standards. How about I bring in a different kind of drama and irk West’s last nerve?”

  “You declaring war?”

  “In a friendly way.” I ignored her groan. “I’m going to throw a property party and line up partygoers with never-ending antics. Entice locals with food and drink. I’m certain that word will spread and bring traffic. As long as everyone is parked legally—and as many in front of his house as will fit—shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Kevin will get the call, and he won’t be happy.”

  “That’s why everything needs to be legal. To that end, I’ll hire a couple of Spoon’s prizefighters for crowd control and make sure nothing gets out of hand. One look at their muscles, and people might behave. I’m thinking drunks, a few people showing up with wild animals, and as long as no one’s doing it—or anything else—in the street, I might not get hauled off to jail.”

  “You know West will be hot on the phone to the cops, and if the first call doesn’t get action, such as the guests getting dispersed, he’ll call again and again.”

  “Party rules: Keep your clothes on and no illegal goings-on. I’ll make the partiers sign an agreement so they can’t claim ignorance. Remind me to double-check if there is a daytime noise ordinance.”

  “How are you going to get anything else done while you’re planning this?”

  “Translated: you want to make sure I’m available at your beck and call.” I rubbed the middle of my forehead, which I knew irritated Fab. “Another idea coming on. I’m going to hire an antics coordinator. Who do we know that will do just about anything for a buck?” I tapped my chin. “Hint: he sure as heck doesn’t need the money and has zero standards for turning down a gig.”

  “Make sure Crum’s decked out in his tighty-whities and, if you’re not around, introduces himself as your significant other. Blabber on about how excited the two of you are to be moving into your tiny house, which will show up in a matter of days.” Fab could barely finish without laughing.

  She turned into the warehouse and parked around the back. We’d barely gotten out when Arlo romped over and took a sniff, sitting for a head rub before taking off and going airborne in a flying leap, landing on the grass and rolling over and over.

  We walked under the roll-up door and waved to Lark, who was on the phone.

  Fab went over to Didier’s desk and sat on the corner.

  I was surprised to see Brad’s desk looking neat as a pin, which meant he must be gone for the day. I walked over to Creole’s desk and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Where’s my bro?”

  “Brad called and said he had a personal issue to deal with and is taking a couple of days off.” Creole pulled me into his lap. “Before you get all agitated, he said it wasn’t anything serious. He knows we’ve got his back should he need it.”

  I turned so Didier could hear, and I knew Lark was listening. “I’ve got an announcement.” Fab sent me a questioning look. I smirked in response. “I want all of you to hear it from me first. I may take on another husband—that’s if he goes for it. I’ll make it clear that the only benefit will be cash.”

  Creole laughed, clearly not believing a word of it and wondering what I was really up to. “A good place to start would be the beginning. Before you do, know that whatever you’re up to, there will be no second husband. Period.”

  “Wait until who you hear who it is.” Fab laughed and whispered in Didier’s ear, and he also laughed.

  I told the guys about the morning, starting with the bar fight, and moved onto my hot idea.

  “How are you going to keep all those lunatics in line without ending up in jail?” Creole asked.

  “Is this your nice way of saying you don’t like my idea?”

  “That question is in the same category as ‘Does my butt look fat?’”

  All of us laughed.

  My phone rang, and I slid off Creole’s lap to pull it out of my pocket, then sat back down. Brad’s face popped up. I flashed the screen at Creole, and his brows went up. “Hey bro, you better be swell and all that or I’m going to come right over and kick your butt for not calling sooner.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Sitting on Creole’s lap at the office, and you?”

  “How about coming over? By yourself.”

  “You need me to bring chicken soup?”

  Brad laughed. “One thing about the Westins, we can always be counted on for food. Now that I have a kid who loves to grocery shop, my fridge is full—can barely get the door closed.”

  “I’m on my way.” I hung up and looped my arms around Creole’s neck. “Brad wants to talk.” I turned to Fab. “Do you mind hiking home? Or maybe…” I eyed Didier.

  “I’ll make sure Fab gets home.” Didier winked at her.

  After another quick kiss, I slid off Creole’s lap and grabbed my briefcase.

  “I’ll walk you out.” Creole hooked his arm around me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The drive to Brad’s was short, and I tried not to obsess all the way over about what he wanted. I ruled out sickness, since he didn’t so much as sniffle during the call. Using my security code, I pulled into the underground garage and parked next to his SUV. I rode the elevator to the top floor, which consisted of two units, both of which he owned. He lived in one, and the other one, he rented to Allegra Kent.

  Brad answered my knock, barefoot, in shorts and a t-shirt, and crossed his lips with his finger.

  “Mila home from school?” I enveloped him in a hug.

  “She’s playing in her bedroom. I need a few minutes to talk.” Brad led me into the kitchen, pulled out a stool at the island, and handed me a bottle of cold water. “Raise your right hand.”

  We’d been doing this since I could remember, and it was a given that you couldn’t come back with any crossed-fingers nonsense.

  “Whatever it is, I super swear.” I stuck both hands in the air. “It would be appreciated if you could hurry it along with whatever you’re about to confide, so the sick feeling in my stomach will go away.” I did not want to hear bad news.

  “Hmm… except, where to start?”

  I reached across and took his hands in mine. “You’re not sick, are you?”

  “No. Sorry for letting you believe that for a second. I have a personal issue.” He smiled weakly. “Frankly, I couldn’t imagine telling anyone else. I’ll need you to whip one of those plans out of wherever you hide them.”

  “You’re in luck, bro-ski; I’ve been practicing lately, so I’m getting faster.” I winked at him, which lightened the grim look that had taken over his features.

  “So you know my neighbor, Allegra? Well, she…” He half-laughed and patted my hand at my annoyed reaction.

  There was something about that woman. Chalk it up to overprotective sister… maybe.

  “Don’t go all lethal on me. I wasn’t lying when I said we’re just neighbors. Mostly, we just say hello in passing. But she has a friend, Layne, who came to stay with her for a few days, which turned into weeks. Anyway, Layne and I got very friendly.”

  “Is she in the next room?” I angled my head toward the hallway, where I could hear more than one voice.

  “Layne’s not here. What you’re hearing is her three-year-old son, Logan. Mila adores him, and they get along great. Even though she’s four years older, she never runs out of patience. She inspires me.” Brad smiled.

  A hundred questions ran rampant through my thoughts. And what? She’s crazy? You’re getting married? I stared wide-eyed, waiting. “It’s nice of you to kid-sit.”

  “Layne and I hit it off, and we started spending time together. The four of us had fun times. In retrospect, I’m not sure what I should’ve done differen
tly.” Brad sighed. “Layne and Allegra got into a disagreement one day, and Layne moved in here temporarily while she looked for a place of her own.”

  “You’ve been living with a woman and her kid for how long?” I tried and failed to keep my hurt tone at bay.

  Brad averted his eyes. “Just a couple of weeks.”

  I bit back my groan. “How is it that I was the one labeled the sneakiest?”

  “Because that was in our younger days, and an apt description.” His lips quirked. “It started out as a day or two, then time flew by… you know how that is.” Give me a break on his face.

  “Let me guess—you want me to plan a wedding when no one’s met the woman?” He choked on his water. “Meet-and-greet, perhaps?”

  “It’s neither of those things and far more complicated.” Brad stood and crossed to the dining room table. Opening his briefcase, he took out an envelope and came back, handing it to me.

  I opened it and withdrew a legal document titled Power of Attorney. I scanned the paperwork, which gave authority to make health and other decisions for Logan Winters to Brad Westin. Signed by Layne Winters and notarized. “This is… I don’t understand why Layne would have this drawn up.”

  “She packed up and left. No goodbye. She left a brief note that I’d make a heck of a lot better parent for Logan, and she was off to get her life together. Couldn’t guarantee that she’d be back.” Brad heaved a huge sigh.

  I heard a girl’s voice that I recognized as Mila’s scream. “I’m going to get you,” followed by laughter.

  “Noooo,” a babyish voice squealed as it grew closer. A little boy barreled around the corner and into the kitchen, throwing himself at Brad, who caught him and kissed his cheek.

  Hot on his heels, Mila saw me sitting there and launched herself at me. I wrapped my arms around her and tried not to squeeze the breath out of her. Then I held her away. “Happy to see you,” I said and covered her cheeks in kisses.

  “You two behaving yourselves?” Brad asked in a teasing tone as he opened the refrigerator and grabbed juice packets.