Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise Page 3

  “That one is a tall, cool drink of water,” Mac purred.

  Creole, lean and lethal, had skin color the same as my caramel latte and kept his dark hair pulled into a ponytail. I knew he carried a gun; I noticed the familiar bulge in the waistband of his well-fitting jeans. Too bad he didn’t stay around long enough to exchange a word of conversation. “Yes, I noticed. Have you learned anything about him?”

  “As far as I can tell, no one knows anything about him. He’s the ideal tenant. He’s not around much. Pays on time and never any trouble,” Mac said. “All’s quiet with the regulars. We’re booked on the overnight cottages, starting this weekend and going out a couple of weeks. Word is getting out, and we’re getting good feedback.”

  “Happy to hear that. Seems quiet around here today. How’s Miss January?” Miss January was one of my aunt’s first tenants.

  “She looks like walking death, but I’m beginning to think she’ll outlive us all.”

  Miss January was a bony, frail-looking woman in her forties that looked twice her age. Two years ago, her doctors had told her that her life was over, and she’d be dead any day. She’d given them the figurative finger and lived her days inside of a vodka bottle, taking an occasional break to smoke a cigarette.

  “I’ve had about enough of that cat of hers,” Mac said. “I told her yesterday Kitty was dead and needed to be buried.”

  “No, you didn’t,” I gasped. I wasn’t sure how long Kitty had been dead, but it was long before I took over.

  “Oh my lord, girl, she started howling. The most pitiful noise I’ve ever heard. I couldn’t have felt worse. I told her she misunderstood me and the cat was fine just so she’d stop with the noise.”

  “I don’t like that she has a dead cat for a pet, either, but we’re going to have to ignore it. I thought about getting her another cat, and then decided I didn’t think she could take care of one that was alive. At least Kitty doesn’t smell.” I looked over at Miss January’s cottage; she must have still been asleep because her door was closed. “I don’t know who did the stuffing, but they sure as heck didn’t do a good job because Kitty’s lumpy.”

  Mac stared at me. “To look at you, you’d never guess the weird people you attract. Anyone else would give them the boot but, oh no, not you.”

  I stood up. “Don’t tell Joseph I want to talk to him. I’d like to surprise him.”

  “Uh oh, what did he do now?”

  I shook my head. “You know I keep my peeps’ secrets.”

  “That’s not right. How am I supposed to stay on top of everything?”

  “Talk to you later.” I waved and started toward my SUV.

  “Liam!” I called when I saw him sitting in the barbecue area. I walked over and sat down next to him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

  “My mom has a new boyfriend. He’s in the I want to impress you stage.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “I liked him better when he was married to my aunt,” he said, looking down.

  “Are you okay?” I brushed his blond hair out of his face. Married to his aunt?

  “Just downloaded a new game on my phone.”

  “Who’s that?” I nodded toward the sharp-featured wiry man with a pencil-thin mustache, shuffling across the driveway. I’d have been afraid if I ran into him at night.

  “Uncle Daddy.”

  I laughed. “Who?”

  “My mom’s new boyfriend. That’s what he wants me to call him.”

  “What’d you say?”

  “I asked him if he was drunk.”

  “Bet he didn’t like that.”

  “My mom doesn’t make good choices when it comes to men. She’s too nice. Her sister kicked him to the curb. I thought when he was coming around, we should be nice to him because he was getting a divorce. I knew it was serious when he and my mom showed up together at my grandmother’s house. He’s got to go and soon. I’m working on a plan.”

  “If you need help with that plan, I know someone who can drop-kick his butt into the next state.”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “Do you have my number in that fancy phone of yours? Nice, by the way.” I fumbled in my purse and pulled out my cell phone. “Here, use my phone to call yourself, and then we’ll have each other’s numbers.”

  “You have a cool phone, too.” He checked out my programs before handing it back.

  “What about Kevin?” Kevin Cory was his uncle and a local sheriff. He could be overprotective, but it was because he loved his sister and nephew.

  “I can’t do that to my mom. Kev would come over and blow everything out of proportion, and I’d have to go stay with him until my mom got rid of Uncle Daddy. I hate going there for more than a day. Kevin treats me like a baby. The first he thing he’d do is take away my phone.”

  “Why?”

  “He thinks twelve is too young for a phone. I think it’s because I have a better phone than he does. Besides, my mom needs me; I watch her back. Kev is by the book. All he thinks about is his job and catching criminals.”

  “If you ever need anything, you can call me anytime, twenty-four hours. This guy I know is big and scary, and no one messes with him.”

  “Thanks. You’re cool.”

  “You’re not bad yourself. Just remember, you’ve got my number.”

  “Thanks.”

  I couldn’t resist asking, “So, have you called him Uncle Daddy?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding?”

  “How do you get around it?”

  “He’s a dumbass. I don’t talk to him, but if I have to say something, I look his way and start talking.”

  I laughed again. I loved that kid.

  CHAPTER 5

  I dropped my keys and purse on the bench in the entryway, kicked the front door shut, and walked into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I was happy to see there was still some iced tea. I poured myself a glass, added ice, and started for the living room.

  I screamed when I saw a man sitting on my couch. “What in the hell are you doing here?” Jackson Devereaux lounged against the couch cushions, Jazz in his lap and the remote in his hand.

  “Honey girl, is that any way to talk to your husband?” he drawled.

  “Ex-husband. How did you get in here?” I had to admit he looked good. He had on white shorts, showing his long tan legs and bare feet. His usual brown hair was much lighter, evidence he’d been spending a lot of time in the sun. Apparently, he brought his own beer. Anyone walking in would think he lived here.

  “I walked in.” He smiled, looking me up and down.

  I picked up his shoes and threw them at him. “You’re a long way from home.” He was born and raised in South Carolina with a family that went back several generations. I was sad that his family had become a casualty of the divorce.

  He threw his shoes back on the floor. “Maybe not.” He picked up his beer and finished it off.

  “Are you drunk? You’re not making any sense.” He looked healthy. Gone was the twitchy, street-junkie look and, along with it, the gray pallor and sunken eyes. He looked more like the man I’d married.

  “I’m sober. I’ve been drug and cigarette-free for a year now. I’m here to check out a business opportunity.”

  He had a self-assured look on his face that worried me. “Care to elaborate?”

  “Real estate deal, like the old days.”

  “I liked those days,” I said. “The first few years were fun ones. We were a successful team then. The market has changed a lot.”

  Someone pounded on the front door, and it sounded a lot like a cop knock. “Hi, Kevin,” I said, opening the door. In or out of his uniform, there was no doubt Kevin Cory was a cop, filling the doorway, official looking. “What’s up?”

  “We got a report there was a prowler in the neighborhood. I thought I’d stop by, check on you.” Kevin walked in and immediately saw Jax. His eyes flashed with annoyance. “Your name, sir?”

 
“Jackson Devereaux. My friends call me Jax.” He used his friendly, good-old-boy smile.

  “Kevin, what’s going on?” I asked.

  Kevin turned and looked at me. “He fits the description of the prowler. I’d like to see some identification,” he said to Jax.

  “This is my ex-husband. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a prowler.” Someone in the neighborhood must have seen him, probably my neighbor Mr. Wicker.

  Jax picked up the briefcase sitting next to him on the floor, pulled out his driver’s license, and handed it to Kevin.

  Kevin looked at the license. “I didn’t realize that the two of you had gotten back together,” he said to me.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  Kevin handed me the license.

  “This isn’t possible,” I said. The address read 3 Cove Road. “This is a fake.”

  “I looked it over carefully, Madison, and it doesn’t appear to be fake,” Kevin informed me.

  “It’s a crime to give a fraudulent address to get your license. I can arrest you here and now,” Kevin told Jax with authority.

  “This is my house,” Jax said. “I have no intention of going anywhere.”

  “Jax, what are you up to?” I asked. Kevin had been to my house before, but never on official business. He knew Jax was lying.

  “Do you have any proof to back up your claim?” Kevin demanded.

  “As a matter of fact, I do.” Jax winked at me.

  “That’s not possible,” I mumbled.

  I could see Jax’s response surprised Kevin as much as it did me. “I want to see the proof now, and if you’re wasting my time, I’m arresting you.”

  Jax handed Kevin a file folder. He looked through the papers and passed them to me. There was legal correspondence from a law firm, his car registration, and voter card, all of it addressed to Jax at my address.

  Kevin turned to me. “Madison, if you want him out, there’s nothing I can do to help you. He went to a lot of work to get all of the right paperwork to establish that he lives here, and now it’s a matter for a judge. You’ll have to take him to court and go through a formal eviction.”

  “I can handle this,” I said.

  “Watch yourself,” Kevin said to Jax. “You so much as jaywalk in this town, and I’ll arrest you and lose the paperwork.” Kevin motioned toward me. “I want to talk to you in the kitchen.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jax smile and give Kevin the finger.

  “Thanks for not arresting him. I don’t know what’s going on, but I can work it out with him.”

  “The bottom line is you can’t throw him out. It’s now a civil case, and a judge has to decide. How long it takes depends on what he wants and how hard he wants to fight. He’s a slick bastard, I’ll give him that.”

  “Thanks for the info.”

  “One more thing, if this doesn’t turn out to be as easy as you think, it wouldn’t be good for you if he got the shit kicked out of him, or worse, disappeared altogether. You make it clear to your friend Spoon and any of your other questionable friends that he’s off limits.”

  Spoon ran a local auto body repair shop, among other things. Those other things never got discussed. He’d scared me when I first met him, but I soon found out there were two sides to him: the hardened one from his years in prison and the charming one, the one that flirted with my mother. She assured me they only shared an occasional cigar. I knew without a doubt that if I asked Spoon, Jax would disappear, no trace.

  “Thanks, Kev. It’s not going to come to anything rash. I’m glad you drew the short straw on the prowler call.”

  “I volunteered when the call came over the radio.” He laughed. “Never a dull moment in this neighborhood. Case closed. It looks like our prowler is only going to be a pain in your behind.”

  “I’ve been forgetting to ask you, have you heard of a Luc Baptiste? My aunt left an envelope for him, and no one seems to have known him, and I need a forward.”

  He paused for a beat before answering. “I can ask around, and if I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

  I was anxious when Kevin walked out with Jax still sitting on my couch. What was he up to? How much trouble could he be in? I already knew from past experience: a lot.

  “What the hell have you done now?”

  “You’ve been a naughty girl.” He smirked.

  “Just give me a straight answer and tell me what you’re up to.”

  “I wondered where the slot machine went.” He pointed to where it sat in the corner, shaking his finger at me.

  “All was fine when you thought your worthless cousin stole and pawned the damn thing. You’re evading my questions. I want to make something clear right now. This is a new day. What’s mine is not yours.”

  Jax stood and went to the kitchen to get another bottle of beer. “You need to sit down and keep an open mind until I finish.”

  I put my hands over my face and moaned. “I can’t promise.”

  “It’s going to seem worse than it really is,” Jax started.

  I sighed. “Just blurt it out.”

  “I got into some trouble in South Carolina, and I needed a lawyer to straighten everything out.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “I was on probation for a DUI and violated it by not being at home when my probation officer came by for bed check.”

  “Okay. How did you manage to involve me?”

  “A lawyer contacted me and told me he would represent me for free, and all I had to do was sue you for half of this house.”

  “You bastard!”

  “I know it sounds bad.”

  “Really? You think it sounds bad that you’re going to help someone take my house. On what grounds?”

  “Calm down. I had this idea of how I could get the good lawyer and you keep your house. I promise I’m not going to sue you.”

  “This sounds like bad news to me,” I said.

  “Oh, stop. I still love you. I’m not the one who wanted the divorce. You left me.” He reached out to touch me.

  I pulled away. “Why would a lawyer in South Carolina want half my house? What do you do with that?” I shook my head. “That’s if you can jump the hurdle of not ever being on the title.”

  “Lloyd Samuels, a well-known criminal attorney, offered to make all my problems go away. He assured me he could get my case settled without jail time. I’d like to be able to go home and visit my family without fear of arrest.”

  “I don’t even know Lloyd Samuels. Did he say why he wanted my property?”

  “He told me flat out I couldn’t ask any questions. It was a take-it-or-leave-it deal.”

  “Did he at least tell you why he thinks he has a case?”

  “According to Samuels, half of this is mine.” Jax threw out his arm, encompassing the room. “He says it’s because you didn’t disclose this house in the divorce.”

  “How could I disclose this house in the divorce when I didn’t own it?”

  “You were on the title long before Elizabeth died and while we were still married.”

  That caught me by surprise. “Cut to the chase and tell me how you plan to screw your lawyer, who, by your own admission, is a good one, and somehow not end up screwing me.”

  “I told him I wasn’t signing anything until I had proof that my case was closed and I could breathe when I walked by a cop and not expect to get arrested.”

  I stared at him. “Was this your real estate deal?”

  “I was working my way around to giving you the details.”

  “This is nothing like the old days. We were honest and aboveboard. We got screwed a couple of times, but we didn’t do it back.” I wanted to help him, and I wanted him gone all in the same emotion.

  “Honey girl, I love you. I know you remember how great we were together. We had good times. We could be happy again if you’d give us another chance. Come over here. I’ll show you.” He held out his arms.

  “Don’t even suggest
that we sleep together. Not going to happen. Mr. Samuels took your word that you’d file suit against me?”

  “Once he’s negotiated a plea in my case, I’ll have to ink his deal before my own.”

  “Do I get a vote?” I asked.

  “This deal is going to work. He can’t do anything without me, and I’m not signing a lawsuit.”

  His reassurance did nothing to calm the foot that had gotten inside my stomach and begun kicking me.

  “Come on, Madison. Let’s start over.”

  “No, and don’t suggest it again. Do you have keys to my house?”

  “You left the French doors unlocked. I need to stay a few days to make it look like I’m doing my part because I know Samuels is keeping tabs on me.”

  “I want to help you, but it feels like this is going to cost me.” I picked up Jazz and started up the stairs. “I’m calling my lawyer in the morning.”

  “If you change your mind, I put my suitcase in the other bedroom,” Jax called.

  I stopped on the stairs. “This is not permanent. Don’t get too comfortable. I’d hate to have to shoot you, so don’t come near my bedroom.”

  He laughed. “Sweet dreams, honey.”

  CHAPTER 6

  I lay staring at the ceiling, Jazz snoring next to me, when I heard the doorknob jiggle.

  I couldn’t believe Jax was trying to get into my bedroom. Scaring him was going to be fun. I slid open the drawer of my nightstand and pulled out a 9-millimeter baby Glock. A birthday gift from Brad.

  When I heard a pick inserted into the lock, I knew it wasn’t Jax. Besides not knowing how to pick a lock, Jax was too lazy, especially when he could put his foot to the door. The door opened and closed quietly. I snapped on the light and aimed my Glock at the intruder.

  “That’s not the greeting I was expecting,” he said, taking a step forward.

  “Stop right there.”

  “Okay, don’t get excited.” He watched me intently. “Is the safety on?”

  “No. Take off your clothes.”

  “I don’t like this kind of foreplay.” He took off his shirt and tossed it on the chair.