Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise (14 page)

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Authors: Deborah Brown

Tags: #Misc. Cozy Mysteries

BOOK: Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise
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“Did Jax show up?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t know who he was, I asked around and was told he wasn’t there. A good thing, in my opinion. It would’ve been ugly between him and Mr. Byce. Mr. Westin needs to watch his back.”

“Brad?” I asked.

“Jax,” Fab said.

“Oh!” I almost laughed. Jax hated it when people called him by my last name. “Did you just come by to tell me about the funeral?” I asked Dickie.

“I came to say thank you for all your help.” He fiddled with the button on his shirt. It popped off and rolled across the floor, landing at Fab’s feet. “Mr. Campion got my charges reduced. I had to pay a fine and do community service, but in one year, it’s erased from my record.”

Fab handed him his button. “What about thanking me?”

He looked totally confused.

“For what?” I asked.

“I got Brick to agree to let him turn himself in.” Fab smiled. She loved that she made Dickie uncomfortable. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

“Thank you,” Dickie said, unable to make eye contact with Fab.

“How are you and Raul doing?” I asked.

“We’re doing good. I took your advice and came clean about everything. Raul agreed to give me another chance if I agreed to couples counseling. He won’t be sorry.”

“I’m happy for the two of you,” I said with sincerity. I found Dickie to be unpretentious and genuinely nice, and I’d never heard him say a bad word about anyone. In spite of that, most people joked about him behind his back, and he had to know.

“Anything I can ever do for you, I will,” he told me.

“And me, too,” Fab added.

“I have to go. Raul and I are going to dinner.” He ran for the door.

I whirled around. “You should be ashamed of yourself, Fabiana Merceau, for intimidating that poor man. I heard his car squeal out of the driveway.”

“Why do you get all the credit? I was nice to him, too.”

“You sound as whiny as Dickie.”

“That’s uncalled for,” she said huffily.

“Did you forget you beat him up? Which I had to hear from him.”

“He exaggerates, slapping him is not the same as beating him up.”

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

 

I came back from a walk on the beach, my buckets filled to the brim with seashells. Leaning against my front door was a large manila envelope. Anoui had finally sent over the reports. Her business card stapled to the front said she was an Information Specialist.

I started with the report on Pavel. It didn’t contain anything I didn’t already know, never in trouble with the law, no known enemies, a regular guy who went to work every day on the docks, never without a girlfriend. In his off time, he stayed drunk and hung out at the beach. Nothing in the report answered the question of why he had ended up with a bullet in his head. She included the photo from his driver’s license, which was dark and could be half a dozen other people.

The report on Jackson Devereaux, aka Jax, aka Dickhead, started with his previous DUI conviction, relating how he had jumped South Carolina jurisdiction and had a warrant out for his arrest. All old news. There was no mention of what he’d been doing from the time of the divorce until his arrest. Anoui did note that once he’d left South Carolina, he’d gone off the grid and managed to lie low until the night of the boat accident. That surprised me. An anonymous lifestyle required cash, and he didn’t have any.

Anoui also included a copy of the sheriff’s initial accident report, which showed me what a lying bastard my ex still was. He knew two of the people on the boat that night. Hell, I knew them, too. His cousin Robert Devereaux had been there, along with Apple Manning, the same girl I’d caught him rolling around on the floor with in a drunken romp at the end of our marriage. That scene was forever burned in my mind.

If those two were in town, and I’d bet Jax’s right nut they were, the three of them had moved into The Cottages. That was why I hadn’t heard from Jax. I was always the boring one; I never wanted to party with him and his friends. He was always the leader of his band of lowlifes, and somehow that fulfilled him.

My favorite part of the report was when Apple told the Coast Guard she’d been at the Jumpin’ Croc all afternoon with Pavel and Kym. The three of them chased their beers with rum shooters, and Pavel and Kym had fought all day. Apple called Jax and told him that her friends needed a break from fighting and to pick them up at the restaurant dock. There was no Mary on the boat. The whole time it had been train-wreck Apple. His evasiveness made sense. The report said she and Kym had sat on the bench at the back of the boat, facing one another and talking. Kym turned to tell Pavel a joke, noticed he was gone, and screamed. No mention of any makeout session between the women. Jax turned the boat around, and the four of them searched the water. There was nothing about them hitting a buoy or anything else. Kym’s version was basically the same. Robert and Jax had nothing to contribute as they had been in the front of the boat with their backs turned.

I was underwhelmed by the content of the reports put together by Anoui and happy the package hadn’t included an invoice. With the exception of the accident report, the other reports said nothing. Anoui had been overhyped. I flung the reports across the room, mad at Jax for not being truthful about all the details. I picked up my keys, deciding to take a trip to The Cottages and find out what was going on for myself.

 

* * *

 

I saw Mac sitting in the office. “What’s going on?” I asked, opening the door.

“I picked up the phone to call you several times today and set it back down every time.”

She looked nervous, which put me on alert. “Sounds like great news. What didn’t you want to tell me?”

“Two sheriff’s cars pulled in a little while ago. The cops walked up front and came back with Jax in handcuffs.”

“At least I know where to find him. Wait. Up front? Was he out on the beach?”

Mac looked down at her paperwork. “When your mother brought him here, I put him in unit ten. By the next morning, he’d moved his things into a waterfront unit.”

I tried not to yell. “You should’ve called me right away.”

“My daughter Candy filled in for me and she didn’t know there was a possible problem. She gave him the key after he told her he lost his. I’m really sorry about this.”

Mac had once told me she and her husband gave their kids names with special meanings. They had joked about Coors, and a coin toss later, they named her Candy. I was happy for her daughter. Candy Lane was a stripper name, but not as bad as Coors Lane, which sounded like a street name.

“It’s not your fault or your daughter’s.” I knew if Jax hadn’t been able to get a key, he would’ve broken in, and then changed the locks. “Who else is staying there with him?”

“Two people, Robert and Apple.” Mac sighed.

“Where are they now?”

“Apple’s still in the cottage. She sleeps all day and comes out late in the afternoons. I saw Robert walking down the street when the cops pulled in. He stopped at the yellow house across the street and sat on the patio, feet up like he lived there, until after they left. Then he walked up the drive just before you got here.”

“I’d like to kick those two over the state line while Jax is in jail.” I simmered with pent-up anger.

“They know a free ride when they see one,” Mac said. “Asking won’t get rid of them. Death threats would work with Apple. I’m not sure about Robert.”

“This is ridiculous.” I stood up. “This is not a redo of the past.”

“Sit down.” Mac motioned to my chair. “There’s more. The sheriff was summoned for noise complaints and a fight. They threw a huge party; add liquor and drugs and you get irate neighbors blowing up the phones to the sheriff.”

“I’m going to go have a talk with them.” I held out my hand. “Give me a key in case they don’t open the door.”

I walked outside and called Fab. I got her answering machine, so I left a message. “Can you find out why Jax was arrested and how long he’ll be in jail and get back to me?”

I turned the doorknob of the cottage, and to my surprise, it opened. Robert and Apple sat on the couch, watching television.

“Hello, you two,” I said. “Just like old times.”

“Hello, cuz. You’re looking good.” Robert winked. His mama would describe him as a good-sized boy, tipping the scales at close to three hundred pounds. His passion was clothes, and he’d adapted to Florida beach style in his shorts and T-shirt.

“Why was Jax arrested?”

“Don’t know. I wasn’t here,” Robert said.

“You were here.” I pointed at Apple. “What did they say?”

Apple slumped back against the cushions, a deer in the headlights look on her face, bloodshot eyes, and long dirty hair hanging in her face. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. She got up and ran into the bathroom in her stained T-shirt worn over a g-string.

“She’s weirder than ever,” I said. “Did she tell you why Jax got arrested?”

“I don’t talk to her.”

“Here’s the deal. Apple leaves today, and if she doesn’t, then all three of you are out. I’m going to wait to find out what’s happening with Jax before kicking your ass out of here. In the meantime, don’t withhold information, or I’ll have you tossed into the street by someone bigger than your ass.”

He looked at me and laughed. “You’re looking good, Red.” He acted like a man without a care. He expected life to take care of him without any effort on his part. For the most part, he had a knack for finding people to sponge off of.

“As of now, the parties and the loud noise stop. If the sheriff comes to this unit again for any reason, your free ride gets terminated on the spot. Understand me?”

“I hear you.” He looked me over in a way that made me want to slap him.

“What are you doing here in Florida?”

“You know Jax and I are inseparable. He asked me, I’m here, simple as that.”

Jax and Robert were like conjoined twins. They had grown up together and formed a bond. They were known to sleep with each other’s women, beat each other up, and do other things sane people would have turned their backs on. They would go their separate ways only to find they couldn’t live without each other.

“Don’t get used to this.” I closed the door behind me. He had a way about him that some women found charming, but it only irritated me.

I walked by Joseph’s, and his door was closed. I had almost made a clean getaway when I saw Miss January sitting half-in and half-out of the hedge across the street.

“Ignore this,” a little voice told me.

“Go away, I’d never do that,” I responded mentally. “Hi, Miss January, do you need some help?”

She poked her head out the hedge. “I need help getting Kitty out of here.”

Of course, it would be about her dead cat. “Let me help you up, and I’ll see what I can do.”

I hooked my arms around her chest and pulled gently. She was bony and frail, and I didn’t want to hurt her. It took a few minutes, but I was finally successful. “Are you okay?”

“Kitty,” she cried, pointing at the bushes.

“Don’t get upset.” I looked in the hedge, and sure enough, there it lay, still as dead as the last time I had seen it. “How did it get in here?”

“I was out pushing her in the doll carriage Angie gave me. Kitty loves to ride. I saw that dreadful Kyle boy coming down the block. He tried to take Kitty once before, but I started screaming and he ran off. I knew I couldn’t get away, so I hid her in the bushes.”

“Why did Kyle want Kitty?”

“He said for target practice. He told me I was crazy. I’m not!” Her eyes filled with tears.

“I promise you Kyle won’t ever bother you or Kitty again. You stay here, and I’ll go get something to wrap Kitty in to get her out of the bushes.”

“Oh, honey, you don’t have to worry about that. Kitty likes to be held.”

There was no way I was picking up that animal with my bare hands. “I really need to get something. I don’t want to hurt Kitty pulling her out.”

“Here, use my sweater,” she said, pulling it off and handing it to me.

I crawled part of the way through the same hole Miss January had used. I tossed the sweater over Kitty and was able to drag her out. I wrapped her in the sweater and handed her to Miss January.

“You don’t mind carrying her back for me do you?” She handed Kitty back to me. “I don’t want to put her in the carriage. You’re nice, just like your Aunt Elizabeth.”

I didn’t think about what I was doing; I just did it. I carried Kitty under one arm and guided Miss January and the carriage with the other. I wanted to run back to her cottage, but I was afraid she’d fall.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we made it to her porch. “Here we are.” Miss January settled into her chair, and I handed Kitty to her. She pulled a cigarette from behind her ear and lit up, taking a long drag.

“If you need anything, you call me. Don’t worry about Kyle.” I practically ran to my SUV. I needed to get home and shower.

For a woman who might die any day, according to the doctors, she appeared to be doing better. I wasn’t sure what kept her alive. I thought it would be funny if it turned out to be the vodka.

 

 

CHAPTER 20

 

 

Fab squealed around the corner and screeched to a stop in front of me. “Get in. I need backup.” She had turned in her months-old Thunderbird for a black Corvette.

“For what?” I jumped in, pulling my seatbelt tight.

“This is a quick job for Brick.”

“That explains the new car.” The black leather seats were comfortable, and the dashboard had every gadget new to the market.

“I’m going to plant a tracking device on a woman’s car before she leaves work. A friend of Brick’s wants a clean and easy divorce,” Fab said. “The soon to be ex-husband wants his wife to agree that they each take their own toys and go their separate ways. He says it’s been the worst two years of his life. Nice guy marries high maintenance.”

“Are we following her?” I asked.

“Brick is handling this one.”

“He doesn’t strike me as a hands-on guy.”

“This is a favor for a friend,” Fab said. “Besides, he got his PI license when he opened the bail bonds business. He used to track his own skips back in the beginning.”

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