Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 06 - Revenge in Paradise (26 page)

“I didn’t figure that story would have a happy ending, but I’m sad to hear he died.” I’d read that story in the local throw paper, not connecting the two. He’d been hit by several cars and no one stopped.

“What has Crum done now?” Brad dragged over a picnic bench for the two of us.

“How come Mac thinks I hired you as a gardener?” I asked Crum.

He looked uncomfortable, which surprised me. “I’m doing a damned good job,” he snorted. “Jami is a friend and I thought I’d save her accounts, but most dumped her when gossip blew through town about the murder and everyone started saying that she would never get out of jail.”

It sounded like something I would do and get Fab to help, until she put her foot down and hired someone else.

“Mac has the final word, you work for her. Let me be clear on this point: no stolen plants. Leave a list and next time you show up, plants will be delivered.”

Crum pinched his nose together. “I don’t steal; those plants were relocated. They had been improperly planted.”

I put my fingers in my ears. “You’re too smart for such a stupid explanation. If you don’t have a receipt from the Garden Center, we’re not paying. Ask that snotty Mark who works there for assistance, you two should get along quite well.”

Brad shook his head. “Have you seen a copy of Crum’s lifetime lease?” he asked.

“It arrived along with a bunch of other paperwork when the estate got settled. A rather crudely drawn-up document. But I recognize Gus’s handwriting.”

“There’s always a loophole, I’m sure we can toss him to the curb anyway.” Brad glared at Crum.

The professor drew himself to his full height, looking down his nose. “You pernicious little bastard,” he said, his fists clenched.

“Stop!” I stepped between them, noticing my brother’s smirk. He fully enjoyed setting Crum off. “We will honor his lease because it’s what Gus would’ve done, but this has nothing to do with your sparkly personality.” I winked at Crum and said, “One more thing, you are now under the two-sheriff rule: They show up twice and you’re out.”

Liam stood wide-eyed, looking a bit disappointed that a brawl hadn’t broken out.

The two men stood face to face. Brad said, “As long as we agree, you keep the riffraff out during construction, so that means entertain your friends somewhere else. Keep helping Liam with his math. If his mom finds out you’re teaching him swear words in three different languages, you’re on your own, I didn’t know anything about it. So far, my favorite has been ass face.”

“What about him trotting around in his underwear?” I asked.

“I’m thinking we might be able to use that to our advantage in marketing. Just stay covered in your private areas.” Brad pointed and made a crude gesture.

“Just so we’re clear, I would have sued you,” Crum said.

“If I want you out of here, there will be no court hearings. You’ll find yourself relocated before there’s time to say good-bye.” Brad brushed his hands together.

I fist-bumped his shoulder. “I didn’t know you had those kinds of connections.”

“I believe we’ve come to an agreement,” Crum said. “I’ll honor my word, you do the same.”

Fab flew into the kitchen, long hair flying. “Get your ass up and let’s go.”

I looked at her and devoured the last two bites of my turkey-avocado sandwich, and downed the last couple sips of a fruit smoothie.

“That could easily be construed as snotty,” I said, “and I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” she shrieked.

I rubbed the side of my head. “That hurt my ears.” I hoped I could draw out this little drama for a while so that I could enjoy every moment.

She handed me my phone. “Rearrange your schedule. Tell your crazy friends you’ll see them tomorrow.”

“See those,” I said, and pointed to the counter next to the sink where two seashell pails were stacked. “If you can wait until after I fill those, I’m free.” I bit down on my lip so as not to laugh and spoil the beautiful moment of total frustration.

Fab did a double take. “I’m going to drag your skinny ass off that stool.”

I jumped up and looked over my shoulder sticking my butt out. “Do you think it’s skinny? You never say anything nice.” I pouted.

She sucked in her breath for a long moment. “You have bigger boobs than me. Are you happy now?”

“Somewhat, but that doesn’t solve my shell dilemma. How about tomorrow?”

“I’ll go to the Shell Shack and buy you enough shells to fill those things and cover the counter.” Fab leaped forward and tried to grab my arm, but I wiggled free.

“Now let’s go,” she demanded.

“There’s a slight problem.” I frowned. “You’ve made that same offer before and not one shell has shown up. You never did say why you’re demanding my presence.”

She grabbed my shirt, maintaining her grip until she had a good hold on my arm. “Get in the Hummer and I’ll give you all the details.”

“Oh, I can’t drive?” I made a sad face.

Fab glared at me. “You’re driving me crazy on purpose. Having fun?”

I jerked free. “As a matter of fact I am.” I laughed and grabbed my bag off the bench and scooted out the door, one step ahead of her.

Fab looked at her watch and checked it with the clock on the dash. “I have a small window to retrieve this car and you’ve already wasted enough time,” she grouched.

“Refresh my memory. Didn’t we get arrested or kidnapped at the last job I did with you? I know we weren’t shot at, that hasn’t happened in a while.”

“Hey, we’re not dead. You know I need a driver and that person is you.” Fab shot down the street and was forced to scream to a stop when a man ran the stop sign.

“Where are we going, exactly? Give me the address so I can put it in the GPS.”

“I programmed it into my phone and I’m getting the directions in my ear.” She patted her earpiece. “You need to get the GPS checked. It hasn’t worked very well since Creole fooled around with it.”

“What did you do?” I knew she did something because she looked away. “You know how Creole is about our safety.”

“Don’t worry; I’ve got your back. We’ll be fine.”

I turned my head and stared out the window lost in thought as the traffic blew by. My stomach took a dip at her words. I had a bad feeling, and this time it had nothing to do with the job but the showdown between her and Creole that would surely come. Not to mention the tiresome lecture I’d have to listen to. This time, if I’d have to listen, so would she—and I’d tell her to invite Didier. That confrontation had me smiling.

The SUV slowed considerably. I opened my eyes, unaware that I had dozed off. Fab veered onto the off ramp. I missed the road sign, so I had no idea what exit she took or where we were. When she got to the signal at the bottom of the ramp, and I looked east to west in each direction, I wanted to scream.

“Now would be a good time for you to hook a U-turn and let’s go back to the Cove.” We were in a terrible part of town to put it mildly, no wonder she refused to use the GPS.

“It’s a little run down but we won’t be here long. I have the keys to the Porsche Spyder. I hop in and drive away. You don’t even have to get out.”

Fab always made it sound so easy.

“You might want to listen to me, which I know you hate to do, but I have experience with these kinds of neighborhoods and it’s always best to show up at the crack of dawn when no one is awake. Wandering around here in the middle of the afternoon is asking for trouble.”

Fab completely ignored me and cruised through a commercial district, past dumpy buildings. Most of the storefronts were boarded up and empty, and there were only a few people out walking. Several turns later, we were in a residential tract. What was once a middle-class neighborhood of modest homes now needed some TLC.

“There’s the car,” Fab said, and pointed to the Spyder.

“I guess now would be the time to tell you I left my Glock at home.” I looked out the windshield and grimaced.

“When in the hell are you going to stop doing that?” Fab barked.

“A walk on the beach doesn’t require a gun,” I huffed. “Listen to me, turn around now. Before we get carjacked by the group of men who just stepped into the street.”

Fab had no intention of stopping and the main guy came to the same conclusion and drew a large-caliber gun, pointing it straight at her. One shot from that and she’d be dead. By my count, all six of them drew guns.

“Stop, please.” A shudder ran through my body. “I don’t want to die in a shootout. Maybe we can negotiate something in exchange for leaving here alive. They can even have the Hummer.” We weren’t in the Cove, so I couldn’t throw out Spoon’s name and expect them to go away.

Fab rolled to a stop in front of the leader. His cohorts fanned out surrounding the SUV. He moved to the driver’s side and banged on the window, magnum cocked and ready to blow us away.

She rolled it down slightly. “We turned the wrong way. We don’t want any trouble.”

“All the way,” he roared. His dark eyes surveyed first the two of us and then the interior of the car. He’d be a lot cuter if he put his gun down.

Fab kept her hands on the steering wheel. “You can have what you want—take it and go. At least let her go, this is my fault,” she said, and nodded at me.

I moaned and bent over, putting my head between my legs. I felt like I could easily projectile but probably wouldn’t get that lucky. It wouldn’t hurt to let him think that; no one wanted someone getting sick on them. Or maybe he’d just shoot me and that would take care of the matter.

“What’s up with her?” he asked.

“She’s pregnant and struggles with morning sickness,” Fab said.

That’s a good one
.

“What have you got to trade for your life—and I hope it’s not this eyesore which sucks on gas?” He chuckled.

I couldn’t believe he was dissing my SUV, but I kept my head down. Maybe he’d let us drive away.

“I’ve got a Walther and some cash,” Fab bargained.

He jerked open the driver door, drug her from behind the wheel, and took the keys from the ignition.

The door locks clicked and my door flew open. “Get out,” a man yelled at me, and hauled me out. “Start walking.”

“Where?” I looked around. The men who’d surrounded the car were now seated on the front porch of a two-story bungalow. Now two against two––it would have been a fair fight if I had my Glock. The rest of the street was quiet. It was one of those neighborhoods where everyone minded their own business.

“What the hell are you doing here, anyway?” my captor asked.

There was nothing friendly about this man. He was short, round, bald and held a .44 Magnum that probably did a lot of the talking for him. I shot one once in a handgun safety class and blew a plastic chair to pieces, missing the intended target.

“I told her to use the GPS and she never listens to me.” My heart pounded, I told myself to stay calm.

“Feeling lucky? Let’s play a little game. See if you can make it to the corner without dying and I’m generously offering you a head start.”

I looked at Fab. “My friend?”

“Think about your own ass. Consider yourself lucky that boss man has a soft spot for women. I’d just as soon kill the both of you.” He grinned at me.

“Please…she’s my best friend.”

Fab gave me a shove. “Don’t call
anyone
,” she stressed. “I can negotiate a deal.” She turned and walked across the street with the other man.

The Hummer’s engine revved, a dark-haired man sitting behind the wheel. He stared at me, large sunglasses covering his face, and then he took off down the street.

“Ungrateful bitch. Get moving, now.”

Fab looked at me and back at her captor. He nodded his head and she ran over to me. “Don’t do anything stupid. Patience. One hour around the corner, wait out of sight.” She turned to walk away and then yelled back to me, “Tell Didier, ‘je t’aime.’
I love you!
”

“Fabiana...” I squeezed my eyes closed. “I don’t want to leave you.”

She held up her index finger and joined the leader.

My guard grabbed me by the hair, bringing me to a halt. His face contorted in anger, his voice dark and foreboding. “I’ll count to five and then I’m coming after you. You turn the corner out of sight before I get to you, you live; if not, I promise you, not one single piece of you will ever show up. One more thing––the cops show up and your friend gets delivered back to you one piece at a time,” he gave me a shove.

He held up a finger, “One…”

I sprinted for the corner feeling like the worst friend ever, saving my own ass and leaving Fab behind. She sounded optimistic, but the message for Didier let me know she didn’t seem sure. Men loved Fab. They didn’t usually want to hurt her, even the skanky dirtballs, but the tables turned when guns got involved. Surely, they wouldn’t let me leave and not release her. I felt hopeful. Weren’t they running the risk I’d call the police?

I slowed down to catch my breath, sweat rolling down my back. I took a quick look over my shoulder and saw that my guard had disappeared. Fab and the ringleader stood talking under a leafy elm in plain sight. From my vantage point, they looked like old friends.

The corner house had a hedge that ran along the side. I scanned the street and there was not one single person outside in their yard or on the sidewalk. Plenty of cars in driveways, but no traffic in or out of the neighborhood and no place to stay out of sight without looking like a felony waiting for the right moment. I surveyed the gap in the bushes and sighed. I glanced over my shoulder and dropped to all fours, crawling through, praying I didn’t smoosh my hand in animal poop. As long as I could make eye contact with Fab, I’d wait it out. I recalled a gas station a few blocks back; they probably wouldn’t let me use the phone, but I’m sure they’d call the police. I briefly tossed away the idea of knocking on a random door, asking to call for help. Frankly, if it were me, I wouldn’t open the door to a stranger. What if they were like the welcoming committee down the street? Too many questions, and all of them made my stomach ache.

My thigh started to throb, a pinched muscle signaling how much my body hated being twisted into a pretzel. I shifted around in the dirt finding no comfort, reaching out to snap off a couple of branches that had struck me in the face for the last time.