Bodies in Paradise Page 2

  “Didn’t you have a friend that worked for Fish and Wildlife?” I squinted at Fab. “As I recall, he was an admirer who thought you were hotter than canned Spam.”

  “I really loathe you.” She turned to Didier and rattled off something in French.

  So rude, since she knew I didn’t understand a word. Creole, who also spoke the language, chuckled. My guess: she was explaining Spam, since Didier’s nose wrinkled, and then he laughed and winked at me.

  My phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and saw the face of Macklin Lane, the manager of The Cottages, on my screen. I groaned and turned it around for everyone to see. Gossip about the body couldn’t have traveled that fast, and I was loath to find out what was up.

  “Bonjour,” I said, overly cheerful. The guys laughed. Fab arched her brows.

  “If you could get your behind over here, sooner than not, that would be smoky,” Mac said.

  “Who’s the boss?”

  “Gotta go.” She hung up before I could say anything, but not before an ear-curling sound vibrated through the phone.

  I shook my head to stop my ears from ringing. “I need to put out a fire. I’d give you more details except Mac hung up, and knowing her, if I called back, she wouldn’t answer since it sounds like she hustled off to put out a fire of her own. Not a real one, but you get the gist.” I rolled my finger at Fab. “I need you to come along. If you’re going to wiggle out, then Didier needs to back me up, and we’ll reduce the number of favors he owes me by one.”

  Family and friends traded favors like hot currency. The rule was, when asked to perform, get off your high horse and just do it. No grumbling.

  Didier’s brows shot up, a smirk on his face.

  “My husband doesn’t owe you,” Fab said in a high-and-mighty tone.

  “Maybe not now,” I said sweetly, which irked her more. “But one day he might, and I’ll deduct it then.”

  “All the times Madison’s backed you up and hasn’t let you down, and you’re saying no?” Didier looked down at her, thoroughly amused. Fab remained mute.

  I swore he was about to laugh but held it in.

  The two engaged in a staring match.

  If it wouldn’t have broken the mood, I’d have placed a bet with Creole. Who’d back down first? The answer…

  “Fine,” Fab seethed. “I’d love to come along. Unless you’re driving, and then—let me be very clear—no way.”

  Both guys were looking at their feet, so I knew they were laughing.

  “Have I told you lately how bestie you are?” I asked.

  Creole pulled me into a hug. “If you need more backup, I’m on speed dial.”

  Didier was kissing Fab.

  “Hurry up, you two.” I motioned to Fab and Didier over my shoulder as Creole and I started up the sand.

  Chapter Three

  Speed demon Fab whipped around the corner and came to a squealing stop at the driveway of The Cottages, a u-shaped ten-unit property that I owned, along with the apartment building next door.

  We both leaned forward and stared out the windshield at the pink Cadillac, which I hadn’t owned for very long, that was now wrapped around the palm tree.

  Fab backed into Mac’s driveway, which was located just across the street. Mac liked being close to work, as it allowed her to keep her snoop on. Nothing frustrated the woman more than not knowing something that was unfolding in the neighborhood.

  The neighbors had come out of their residences and were loitering on the sidewalk, some drifting into the street.

  “My tree,” I moaned.

  “What about the love mobile?” Fab pointed.

  “It was a hot gimmick for about a minute, then turned into a money-sucker. When folks found out they couldn’t get their drunk on while getting it on in the back seat, interest waned.” Mac had insisted time and again that people couldn’t go on vacation and entertain themselves; we had to bring the fun and games to enhance their out-of-town experience.

  We got out and crossed the street, standing with one foot on the curb.

  “Maybe you should’ve pointed out to your guests that it’s a convertible and the drawing card is that the top is always down unless the weather’s bad,” Fab said, like I didn’t know all that.

  “You’re under the assumption that people care that their naked butts are on display, but you’d be wrong. Being the center of attention, traffic piling up, the wind blowing up their… are all selling points, but only one person had the nerve to say that to my face. We both know who that was, and despite my admonitions to stop, I’m certain I was ignored.” I unleashed a huge sigh of frustration. “Crum called me out for ruining his business. I pointed out that encouraging criminal activities, such as sex in public, could also result in charges against him. One mention of the slammer, and he came to his senses.” I circled the Caddie and inspected the front end. It took the bashing pretty well but would need repair—to get behind the wheel, you’d have to vault over the door. The palm which now tilted off to one side, was a concern. “Who was driving?” I shouted to those close by, hoping that one of them might answer. Three people had possession of a set of keys. I marked myself off the list, which left Crum and Mac. After sticking my head over the side and checking the interior, front and back, I twirled around and took stock of the several pairs of eyes focused on me, radiating eager anticipation of… I almost didn’t want to know. “Driver?” I yelled again.

  Several people jabbed their fingers toward the corner. I turned and scanned the street, including the bushes.

  Fab sidled up next to me after also inspecting the Caddy and taking pictures. “The good news is I don’t hear any sirens approaching.”

  A shrill whistle had us both turning. Mac barreled around the corner from the pool, in hot pursuit of a dog. Correction: goat… or donkey, or one of its kin.

  “Catch him,” Mac yelled.

  A tall, white-haired, willowy woman, also in hot pursuit, slowed and veered off, entering a cottage on the opposite side of the driveway.

  I stepped out of the animal’s way. Cat rapport was my specialty—the rest of the animal kingdom, not so much.

  Fab had a similar thought and also stepped out of the way, giving the animal a wide berth.

  “If he jumps either of you, don’t shoot him; use your animal-wrangling skills,” Mac called.

  Fab snorted.

  Both of us fell short in the wrangling department but didn’t feel compelled to mention it, since it would soon be evident.

  The squeals and shouts from the street ratcheted up and took on a new fervency. Fab and I pivoted as a tandem bike approached, weaving from side to side, the six riders yelling their heads off. In the front seat was Crum, who barked at the crowd that had gathered in the street. “Get the hell out of the way.”

  The bike barreled toward the driveway, and at the last second, the animal darted out and, startled, bleated, “Baah,” at the top of its lungs. The bike swerved. The animal, unharmed, ratcheted up the ear-splitting noise.

  Crum and another man kept everyone from hitting their heads as it lurched sideways, and the two men lowered it to the asphalt. Crum jumped to his feet and hauled the frame out from under the tangle of arms and legs. The profanity flowed. If you needed a refresher in dirty words, this would’ve been the time to listen up.

  The white-haired woman barreled back out of the cottage she’d dashed into and marched over to Crum. She twisted her fingers in the back of his moth-eaten shirt and hauled him back. “You dumbass.”

  He twisted away, shouting, “Shut it,” then stormed over to the Caddy. “What the hell happened to my baby?” He ran his hand along the side, heading to the front. He leaned down and inspected the impact point with the tree.

  The woman—who I’d yet to identify as a neighbor, guest, or what the heck—was hot on his heels. The two put their foreheads together and engaged in a ferocious exchange of words, judging by body language, but managed to keep their voices down so no one could eavesdrop.


  If this was one of his true loves, she would find out soon enough that he didn’t do relationships; he had sex, and the women usually left in a snit, a few wanting to commit bodily harm.

  Before Fab could move closer to listen in, I grabbed her by the back of her designer sundress. “You’re the licensed PI; you step up and take the lead.”

  “No way,” she hissed back.

  “If you wander off…” I jerked on her arm, realizing at the same moment that I didn’t have a good threat that she wouldn’t laugh at. She dug her feet in but begrudgingly followed me over to check on the pile of people. I breathed a sigh of relief. They were laughing, not a sober one in the lot. One by one, they hauled themselves off the ground and straightened their clothing. One spit on a scrape on her arm. They headed down the driveway in a group. My guess was that they were all guests.

  The animal, which I’d tentatively identified as a donkey, was back. He headed straight over to Fab and I, sticking his nose in between us and sniffing. We both jumped back at the same time.

  Mac barreled up behind the animal, skidded to a stop, and slipped a leash over his head. “You two could’ve been more helpful,” she snapped.

  I looked over my shoulder, wanting to irk her some more, knowing full well who she was talking to. “Excuse me. I’m the owner. Another bone of contention—you hung up on me.” I stared at the animal. “And so we’re clear, I’m not a donkey-wrangler. Are you?” I asked Fab, who responded with an impressive eye-roll.

  “This is a Nigerian dwarf goat,” Mac informed me in a tone that suggested I should have known. The goat had turned his attention to Mac and was rubbing up against her. “You need to be careful because they’ll do it with anything.” At my incredulous stare, she added, “I looked it up on my phone, and they love attention and will mate with anything and everything.”

  I pictured that, much to my disgust, and burst out laughing. I caught Fab’s grin and laughed again. Once I recovered, I faced down Mac’s glare. “What in the heck? You better have a good explanation.”

  “I quit.” Mac attempted to push the leash into my hands, but I threw them up and brushed her off. A militant look on her face, she crossed her arms over her massive chest.

  Fab also put a foot of space between her and the goat.

  “Fab, you got your gun on you?” I asked, knowing the answer. “If Mac makes a run for it, shoot her.” I had mine holstered to the small of my back, but I couldn’t be shooting employees.

  Mac, who totally fan-girled Fab, grinned at her. “Car accident,” she said evasively. “I’d hate to give you bad information, so we should wait until the facts come out.”

  Since when? Speculation over every little thing ran rampant in the neighborhood. “What can you tell us?”

  “Saw a woman skedaddling that way.” Mac pointed to the corner. “I’m fairly certain she’s okay.”

  Translated, she knew the woman.

  “I rushed out of the office when I heard the crash and headed over to check out the Cad. The goat was in the front seat. My first thought was we can’t have him whizzing on the interior, so I let him out. Didn’t occur to me he’d run off. The wretch.”

  I crooked my head and stared at the woman, hoping to intimidate more information out of her. Knowing her as well as I did, she was leaving several details out of her story. “Was there another vehicle involved in the crash and they skated off? Or possibly the goat was a distraction?”

  Mac shuffled her faux bacon-soled flip-flops. “Since I’m the best employee ever, I called you, like you’ve requested ten dozen times.” She continued to fidget. “Because of that, my attention was elsewhere. Goat boy reappeared, and I had to cut the call short.”

  “I’m assuming we’re in agreement that there are three of us that have keys, but you’re telling me that a fourth party comes out of nowhere, loads up a farm animal, and hops behind the wheel for a joyride and you know nothing?” I squinted at her and nodded at Fab, indicating, Your turn.

  “Why haven’t the cops shown up?” Fab asked. “Even though no one was hurt and an ambulance isn’t needed, wouldn’t they still come out? I’m assuming that the driver, climbed out and ran off? If this is an unknown party…” Fab’s brows went up. “That person needs to be charged with theft and property damage. It would help if you could ID said person. While you’re trying to come up with a waffley answer to my questions, how about a coherent story as to what the woman was doing behind the wheel? Grand theft auto gone awry?”

  “That’s a lot of questions.” Mac turned her attention to the goat and clucked. “I think it’s best to know the whole story before calling the cops.” Don’t you think in her tone. “You won’t be needing a police report for insurance, since the policy only covers the other car. Saved bucks that way.”

  “Great idea,” I said, thinking clearly not. “If the driver comes back and claims bodily injury and you haven’t filed a report, are you paying out of your pocket?” I needed to calm down. Maybe later.

  “As someone who always has her nose up everyone’s… in their business, anyway. How is it you know nothing about what went down?” Fab leveled a glare that had Mac squirming again.

  Mac’s I know nothing act was just that—an act. But who was she covering for? Not Crum, since he’d been out pedaling around on that excuse for a bike. “I’ll go find Crum. If he’s as evasive as you, I’m calling the cops as a precaution and reporting it, so nothing comes back on me.”

  “Crum and the white-haired woman split out to the beach.” Fab pointed in the direction of the gate that opened onto the sand.

  “Let me guess.” I glared at Mac. “Those two are doing it and she’s a needy nutcase, since that’s his type.” I scanned the corners of the property in case they’d stuck around. I wouldn’t put it past him to hide behind a tree until I left.

  Mac shook her head, erasing her smirk after noticing that my glare hadn’t lessened. “Nix is a guest who checked in a couple of days ago and booked the cottage for two months.” She pointed to the one I’d seen the white-haired woman disappear inside.

  “I’m not going far,” Fab said as she walked over to the Caddy and stuck her head over the steering wheel. “No keys,” she yelled. She got down and checked under the front end. Standing, she said, “Needs to be towed. But I wouldn’t do that until it’s determined whether the tree is stable, since it’s leaning against the bumper.”

  I turned my attention back to Mac. “I didn’t think I had to explicitly say, ‘No goats allowed.’ You need to find the owner and reunite them.” I turned, walked over to the barbeque area, and took a seat on one of the cement benches. I knew that I hadn’t gotten all the facts and wondered who Mac was covering for. I also didn’t want to know. I scrolled through my phone. “Step-daddy dearest,” I said when Spoon answered. My mother had waited years to remarry after the death of my father, and she’d made a great choice. They were both very happy.

  Spoon groaned. “When you bring up the pervy daddy thing, I know something’s up.”

  “You wouldn’t believe how this day has gone, and it’s not over yet,” I groaned back, then told him about the Caddy.

  “I’m sending a flatbed and a couple of my men.” Spoon owned JS Auto Body, an appointment-only service. “They’ll stabilize the tree and get the Caddy moved. I’ve got a friend who owns a tree service; he can give you his professional opinion about whether it can be saved.” Between family and friends, we knew almost everyone in Tarpon Cove, which was located at the top of the Florida Keys.

  “You’re the best.” I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me. “There’s more…” I almost laughed at his grumble. “You can be the first to share this tidbit with Mother, and she’ll think you’re more amazing than she already does.” To put it bluntly, my family gossiped about one another, and everyone liked to be the first to share any bit of info. I told him about the body dump.

  “What in the heck? Any clue what happened?”

  “None. I’m waiting for the second body to b
e found and both to be IDed. Then I’ll have a check run and find out who they are and if there’s a connection.” It’d be a start. “More husband points for you—let Mother tell Brad.” Though my brother probably already knew, since the guys would be back to the office by this time.

  Spoon laughed. “What’ll happen is that Madeline and I will have the same hot news to share.”

  “If Brad finds out first, I’ll tell him to act surprised when he hears it from Mother.”

  “You want the Caddy repaired?”

  “Junk it. I’m more upset about my palm tree.”

  “It won’t be hard for me to find a buyer to take it as-is,” Spoon said.

  “Huge thank you,” I said, and we hung up. “Just so we’re in agreement,” I said to Mac, who’d sat down on a bench opposite me and boldly listened in on the conversation, “Spoon is sending over a tree dude; my first choice is that he saves the tree. If not…” I sighed. “Then I want it removed, roots and all, and replaced. Once I find out who you’re covering for, if they have two nickels, it will be their responsibility to pay up.”

  Fab had come over and sat down. “My advice, when you find out who was driving, is to use not calling the cops as a bargaining chip.”

  Chapter Four

  It didn’t surprise me when I glanced up and saw Crum come barreling around the corner from the pool area. He edged over to the Caddy and once again ran his hands over the sides and across the front, inspecting the damage. He gave it a gentle pat and changed course, heading straight over with me in his sights. “You two mind hitting the road so I can have a private talk with Madison?” He nodded to Fab and Mac.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Fab returned his fierce stare.

  “You might need a friend, and that would be me.” Mac pointed to herself. “So you know, I kept my promise.”

  Crum threw himself down on one of the benches and manspread as wide as possible. Thankfully, he had on shorts.