Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise (21 page)

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Authors: Deborah Brown

Tags: #Misc. Cozy Mysteries

BOOK: Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise
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“Stranger? That’s bull. And besides, did you hear the word promise?”

“I’m going to get the blame for this,” Fab warned.

“After you’re done terrorizing a sick old man, I’ll go to the other places by myself.”

“Oh no, you’re not.”

I turned away and smiled. I knew there was no way she’d be left out.

 

* * *

 

“Back into the parking space by the office,” I directed. “I can hunch down and see what’s going on and no one will see me. Remember, don’t hurt him.”

Fab jumped out and slammed the door. Everything appeared to be quiet, no one milling around. All the units were booked, but only about half of them had on lights. People either were out or had gone to bed early.

Miss January sat on her porch, Kitty in her lap. She suddenly stood, looked around, then bent over the railing and vomited. Afterward, she wiped her mouth, picked up Kitty, and went into her cottage.

I watched as Creole came out of nowhere and walked to his front door. He stood under the porch light, put his key in the lock, then turned around and waved at me. How had he known I was in the car? I was huddled in the dark and positive no one could see me. He disappeared inside his cottage.

“Good news, bad news,” Fab said, getting back into the car. “The guy’s name is Tomas. Here’s his phone number and address.” She handed me a piece of paper.

“Bad news?”

“Right before we got here, a brick went through Joseph’s bedroom window. The note tied to it said, ‘Shut up, old man.’”

“Is Joseph okay?”

“He’s okay. The brick landed on his bed. He told me to tell you to stay away, no more favors. We have a new understanding,” Fab said with confidence.

“Does he think there’s sex in his future?”

“I’m going to take the high road and ignore you.”

“Let’s go see Tomas before he leaves town.”

“Not we. Me,” Fab said. “I’ll go first thing in the morning and catch him by surprise before he’s woken up. You need to lay low and stop snooping.”

“I don’t like this.”

“Too bad. If someone connects you and Joseph, it won’t be good for him or you. He’s really afraid right now.”

I knew Fab was right, but that didn’t mean I was going into time-out without a lot of kicking and screaming.

 

 

CHAPTER 28

 

 

“Turn here,” I directed Fab. “According to what Jax told me, the last time anyone saw Pavel alive was when they were on the boat headed through this part of the channel.”

“There’s nothing much to see at night. If he went over here, I can’t believe a guy that drunk could swim half a mile and then pull himself out of the water.”

“We don’t know that he wasn’t shot in the water,” Fab said. “Although you’d have to be damn lucky to shoot someone in the back of the head in the dark and no lights.”

“He floated up about two miles north, where the expensive waterfront condos begin. How far does a body drift before surfacing?”

“It depends on the tides,” Fab said. “Logic would say he went over farther down the channel. Let’s face it. He could’ve been killed anywhere and dumped along here.”

“I don’t know what I thought we’d get out of seeing this in the dark, but I wanted to see it anyway. I knew the nighttime would give us certain anonymity; we could sneak around without anyone seeing us.” I pointed across the channel. “Isn’t Byce’s warehouse down that inlet?”

“It seems close from here, but you have to drive over the bridge and make the U-turn underneath to get there.” Fab made a turn in the middle of the street. “Why do you want to see Byce’s warehouse?”

“Because Pavel worked there. I went by Pavel’s apartment a couple of times and, day or night, the area is quiet, which I found interesting, considering the people who live back there. It’s a pay-by-the-week area. There’s also a seedy motel that advertises flop for the night if you have cash.”

“That’s what the sign says?” Fab asked.

“Close.”

“I’m acquainted with a couple of low-level dealers who live back there. I talked to them a week ago and got the same story—nice guy, no trouble.” Fab turned down a narrow two-lane street, which ended in a dead end. “Pavel smoked pot, but he had his own connection elsewhere. He didn’t deal or sell anywhere in the area. He never even asked about their product, and they sell the best weed in the Keys.”

Byce’s warehouse occupied one side of the lot, and a large boat storage business was on the other side. We parked at the back of the storage yard, got out of the car, and walked down a slim pathway along the docks, giving us a view of Byce’s place.

“This was a good idea, no chance of being seen from this side of the property,” I said.

“Nothing going on down here, not that I expected anything.” Fab turned on her flashlight. “All the businesses here are only open during the daytime.”

“Fab, listen. There’s a boat approaching. Can you hear the engine in the distance?”

“At this time of night? That’s a surprise, unless they took a wrong turn.”

“Wow, look at that,” I whispered.

“Yeah, and it’s heading our way.”

A sleek white cigarette boat slid alongside the dock in front of Byce’s warehouse. Two men jumped down, grabbed the ropes, and secured the boat to the cleat on the dock. It looked out of place; the boats docked nearby were well-used fishing boats, reeking of fish stench.

“I want to get a closer look at what’s going on,” Fab whispered.

“I’ll follow.”

“You stay here and watch what’s going on up and down the canal. Stay out of sight. If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, call the cops and tell them you heard gunshots. Then, take the car and get the hell out of here. Pick me up at Roscoe’s across the bridge.” She tossed me her car keys.

The rolling door in the warehouse squeaked its way open, and the light illuminated two more men. The two men still on the boat stacked small boxes on the back end, then one disembarked, stacked them on the dock, and the two from the warehouse disappeared inside with them.

The second Fab was out of sight, creepiness settled over the area. I wished I hadn’t had this idea. What was going on wasn’t a good thing. From where I stood, the whole setup reeked of illegal.

Fifteen minutes flew by, and all the boxes disappeared inside the warehouse. Thankfully, I hadn’t heard any screams or gunshots. I walked the opposite way from where we had entered, thinking it would be a shortcut around the building and back to the parking lot. Instead it turned into a weedy, overgrown dead end.

I spotted a skinny path down the other side of the building where the weeds were knee-high and old boat parts were scattered around. Another dead end. Trying not to obsess on how scared I was, I turned and walked along the dock where the stored boats were launched into the water.

I jumped at the sound of a scratching noise. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught an outline of a person holding something large. I screamed, and then felt the impact. Pain raced across my back and shoulder blades. My right shoulder took the next blow sending me airborne into the water.

After several seconds of disorientation the lifesaving classes my mother had insisted on kicked in, and I floated on my back. The pain in my arm was excruciating. Three one-armed strokes later, I clung to the dock pilings with my legs wrapped around the pillar. After a brief rest and another few strokes, I grabbed onto the steps that would take me to the dock above. I ignored the pain and pulled myself around, ending up under the stairs, hanging onto the bottom step, waiting and listening for footsteps or voices.

I heard a boat start in the distance. The boat approached slowly; a high-beam light scanned the water. When it was a half-length away, I took a deep breath and went under.

I held my breath as long as I could, then resurfaced quietly. They’d already passed, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief when they didn’t double back. I waited for what seemed like an eternity, ignoring that the water smelled gross and felt unbelievably slimy. Picking off whatever had stuck to my skin, without looking at it, I tossed it as far as I could. I stayed quiet and continued to listen for sounds on the docks, trying to gauge when it would be safe to get out.

“Madison? Madison?” Fab called in a loud whisper.

I tried to whisper and ended up yelling, “I’m over here!” After several tries, I pulled myself around to the front side of the steps. Pulling myself up with one arm was harder than I thought it would be; I could only manage the first step. “I need help getting the rest of the way up the stairs.”

Fab reached down to help.

“Careful. I think I broke my left arm.”

She helped me the rest of the way up the steps. “What the hell were you doing in the water?”

I exhaled loudly when both my feet hit the dock. “I decided to go for a late-night swim in gasoline and feces-infested water.”

“I meant, what happened?”

“This burly guy hit me from behind. I caught a brief glimpse of him just before he connected, and I think that’s why he missed my head, but he hit me hard enough to knock me into the water.”

“It was probably this.” Fab picked up an oar from the dock. “Let’s get out of here.”

“My arm or shoulder is broken. The pain is bad.”

“I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No! Everyone will find out, and how do we explain this? I’ll call Doc Rivers and see if he can come over.” Doc Rivers was retired and made house calls without asking questions.

“He’ll tell Zach,” Fab said.

“Not if I ask him not to. Besides, we’ll come up with another story.”

“The boys club is a tight one,” Fab reminded me. “If he thinks he’s saving you from yourself, he’ll tell.”

I sucked in my breath. “Then take me to a hospital in Miami.”

“Great idea. I know the head of emergency services at Miami General. He works the night shift, and even if he’s not there, you can get treated and no one will be the wiser.”

“Who’s this mystery doctor?”

“Dr. A, or Stan as I call him. We met while he was in medical school. He was my first. Every woman deserves to have her first time be special. He took me from a naïve virgin to a woman. There are so few of those kinds of lovers, you hold them in a special place in your heart.”

“My first one was like that. He was older and much more experienced. Every time I think about him, even all these years later, I smile. You’re right about there being few special ones.”

 

* * *

 

Thanks to Fab’s friend, we cut to the head of the line and were in and out of the emergency room in two hours. Disheveled and tired-looking, Dr. A had a seductive smile and jet-black hair. He was clearly a lover of women. He smiled at me in a way that made my imperfections seem perfect.

I told him I had fallen into the water after a friend accidently hit me with an oar he’d been unloading from his boat. He X-rayed my shoulder, arm, and back. He came back with the good news that nothing was broken, just severely bruised. He fitted me with a sling, gave me a shot for the pain, and a prescription for pills.

On the way out, Dr. A whispered, “Be more careful in the future. I know Fabiana pretty well, so my guess is that there’s more to this story.” He winked at me as I left.

 

 

CHAPTER 29

 

 

“Where have you been?” I asked Fab when she walked into my kitchen.

“Hey, grumpy. Good morning. Did you make some real coffee?”

“There’s a whole potful in the same place it always is.” I handed her a mug. “I wanted to go, by the way.”

“How’s your shoulder?”

“Hurts like the devil. What’d you find out?”

“Tomas didn’t respond well to waking up and finding me standing there,” Fab said. “Once I assured him I wasn’t there to kill him, he got more cooperative.”

“Where was your gun?”

“In my hand.”

I shook my head. “Fabiana Merceau, you’re lucky he didn’t have a heart attack.”

“Calm down. I left him in one piece, and we worked a deal. He gave me information, and I gave him money. We’re lucky I went this morning because his bags were packed and sitting by the door. He planned on leaving once he got his paycheck this afternoon. He didn’t want anyone to find out he’d left until Monday, and he’d be back home by then.”

I refilled her mug. “So what’s he running from?”

“He’s running from Byce and his drug friends.”

“Why would a successful businessman be involved with trafficking drugs? Which, by the way, carries a life sentence in this state. I read an article the other day about someone who got twenty-five years for far less than what they’re doing.”

“Byce Jr.”

“The son?” I gasped.

Fab nodded. “Alexander Byce III. Only son to the heirship.”

“Start at the beginning with Tomas’s story and how Byce Jr. fits in.”

“Tomas works as an assistant chef at The Wharf. He and Pavel were good friends. One night, they were sitting on the docks, drinking beer and swapping stories, and they watched as a boat came up and unloaded.” She poured herself another cup of coffee. “Tomas’s story matches what we saw last night, including the description of the boat. The two of them watched the guys unload the boxes and carry them into the warehouse. After the boat took off and everyone left the warehouse, Pavel used his key to go in and look around. They looked in the boxes, and they were all full of white powder. Pavel helped himself to some of it, figuring no one would notice. They had to leave in a hurry because Byce Jr. showed up with a half-dozen other men.”

I shook my head. “Screwing drug dealers was a really bad idea.”

“Tomas warned Pavel that, no matter how little he took, they would find out.”

“The Byce family has millions. Why would Junior peddle drugs?”

“Greed is the usual motive,” Fab said. “When Pavel turned up dead, Tomas decided it was time to go back home to Louisiana and work in the family business.”

“I can see where ripping off drug dealers would get you dead. I remember a dealer came by the house once and told me he was going to kill Jax over three hundred dollars. I asked him, ‘You’re really going to kill someone over three hundred dollars?’ He said, ‘Pay up or he’s dead,’ gave me a friendly wave, and left.”

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