Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise (7 page)

“Let’s get out of here,” Fab said. “What did the rental guard want?”

“Just weeding out the riff-raff.” I closed the car door. “Did you get it?”

She unzipped her jacket and pulled out a black velvet necklace box. “She had it sitting out on her dresser, lid open.” Fab snapped open her phone and punched in a number. “Gracee, I got it.” Fab was smiling at the phone. “I’m with my friend Madison. We should be there in about an hour, depending on traffic.” She snapped her phone closed. “I should’ve asked you before committing to going to Gracee’s.”

“I bill by the hour,” I said.

“Gracee started crying when I told her. She had money and time invested in this piece, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get it back.”

“I’m excited to meet her. I’ve made a few pieces of jewelry myself. I haven’t had any time since I moved here, but I still have my tools and boxes of supplies. I found a great table at the flea market last weekend that I’m planning to refinish and put in my office. I’ll use it for future projects.”

“You never cease to amaze me. You’re going to have to show me something you’ve done.”

* * *

We pulled up to a small 1920s bungalow house, painted white, window boxes filled with red, white, and pink annuals. A vintage pink glider rocker sat on the porch, along with two mismatched white metal chairs.

Gracee opened the front door as we walked up the steps. She threw her arms around Fab. “You’re so fab-ulous.” Gracee was small and delicate, with her thick brown curly hair tied back in a ponytail. She was barefoot and had the arms and legs of her oversized sweats rolled up.

Fab held out the necklace box and snapped open the lid; it was a show-stopping piece. The focal stone was a large blue diamond with three strands of blue and white diamonds up each side, the intricate gold clasp, a detailed, one-of-a-kind creation.

“I want you to meet Madison. She was my lookout.”

“Come in,” Gracee said, pulling Fab inside. “Thank you both. Zoe never intended to return the necklace. She said as much the last time I talked to her. I told her I would never again loan any of my pieces to a shoot or anything else she was a part of.”

“What did she say?” Fab asked.

“She laughed at me.”

“Bitch. I’m glad I could help out,” Fab said

“Hi, there,” I said to a four-foot-tall white dog who walked up beside me. The dog would easily tip the scales at one hundred pounds. “Is he a Great Dane?” He nudged my hand when I stopped petting him.

“That’s Beck. He’s a Pit Bull-Great Dane mix and the sweetest dog ever. I rescued him as a puppy from a guy down the street. One day, I watched Beck’s owner put a cigarette out on his back, and I decided he’d never spend another night with that bastard. That night, I coaxed Beck out of the yard, and he had burn marks all over him, underfed, and dehydrated. I kept him inside and nursed his wounds. His old owner never seemed to notice. Then about a month later, the guy moved, one step ahead of the police who showed up looking for him.”

I walked over to a sideboard that held several of Gracee’s pieces on pedestals. She was truly an artist, and I could see why her jewelry was in high demand. I had to force myself not to touch anything. I really wanted to try on the blue-green pearl necklace with the abalone focal piece so I could brag I’d once worn a Gracee design.

“Those pieces were just delivered back to me from the Palm Beach magazine shoot,” Gracee said.

“They’re beautiful.” A beach collection, each piece used shells, pearls, and mother-of-pearl.

“I have an early morning pickup at the airport.” Fab hugged Gracee. “I’m body-guarding Israel, the newest Latin singing sensation, for the next couple of days.”

“Thank you both again. If there’s anything I can do for either of you, just let me know.” Gracee hugged me.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Fab said. “You owe me.”

We laughed.

“Nice to meet you,” I told Gracee.

We left and got into the Thunderbird, where I pulled my seatbelt tight. Most of the way home, Fab drove as if she were in the final NASCAR race of the season at Homestead. I was an avid fan and loved watching fast cars turn left, but I wanted nothing to do with riding in them.

“What are you going to do about Jax?” Fab asked.

“I want to help him, but not at my expense. I’m not losing my house for him or anyone else. I don’t like his chances of coming out on the winning end of screwing a lawyer.”

“What happened between you two? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Alcohol and drugs. The breakup still feels like one of my biggest failures. I didn’t see it happening, maybe because I had no experience and never knew what to look for.”

“He traded down, in my opinion,” Fab said.

“Eventually, he drank more than he worked. He brought home equally drunken friends, who soothed his tortured soul and helped stave off his self-doubt. I had much less lofty opinions of them than he did. Frankly, most of them scared me. The fun and the romance became non-existent. Our lifestyle turned downright seedy.”

Fab finally stopped tailgating the car in front of us and pulled around. “What was the final straw?”

“One day I came home and caught him in a drunken sex frenzy with an unwashed, alcoholic woman he kept around to boost his flagging self-confidence. She was a more
sympathetic muse
, he insisted.”

“Oh, brother.”

“But of course, he was adamant that he was the wronged party. If I’d been more supportive, not so demanding, not so critical… you get the drift. It was a relief when I made the decision to pack my things and run as far away as I could get. Whenever I think back on those days, I can’t place myself in that situation. It’s so alien to my life now; it seems a terrible nightmare that someone else dreamed.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Fab reached over and patted my shoulder.

“Thank you for listening to all of that. You’re the first person I’ve confided in about the disintegration of my marriage. I didn’t know anything about addiction or my part in it all.”

“If I can be of any help, just ask.”

“Back atcha. You being someone I trust is the best gift of all. We’ve come a long way since you told me you didn’t have girlfriends and didn’t want any.”

“It’s worked out better than I thought it would,” Fab laughed.

“I know it was all about my knock-off shoe connection.”

“I love that store. There’s nothing a new pair of shoes can’t cure.”

The house was dark when we pulled up. I hadn’t seen Jax since he walked out saying he’d be right back. “Thanks, Fab.” I got out of the car. “Let’s do this again. Come by when you finish up with Israel.”

“I’ll go in with you.”

“Not necessary.” I waved at her and walked inside the house.

CHAPTER 9

The phone rang in the middle of the night, which was never good news. That sickening sensation hit me before I even knew who was on the other end. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was local.

“Hello,” I said my voice thick with sleep.

Jazz meowed in my face, telling me, “It’s not time to get up. It’s still dark outside.”

“Madison Westin? This is Captain Burton from the Coast Guard. I’m calling to inform you that your boat was in an accident tonight.”

“My boat? Is my brother okay?”

“He said he was your husband, Jackson Devereaux.”

“Is he okay?” How had Jax gotten the keys to our boat? A better question, how had he find out I had one?

“No, ma’am. We have a man overboard, Pavel Klaus, and we’re searching the water now. Your husband’s on his way to the county jail to be booked for suspicion of BUI.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“This is a notification call. We’ll release your boat once the investigation is finished. Call my office, and we’ll let you know when you can pick it up.”

I hung up the phone, taking small breaths to calm the tight knot in my stomach. Jax hadn’t been around in a few days; I figured he’d found new friends to bother. A missing man? If Jax was drunk, what would that mean?

“What am I going to do, Jazz? Jax just dropped a bomb into the middle of my life.” I held Jazz until he meowed to let me know he’d had enough.

I called the jail. After a long wait, a woman answered in booking. She politely informed me that Jax was in custody until a bond could be posted. Shell-shocked, I wondered what to do next. I realized I’d drifted off when my phone rang again.

“You’re receiving a collect call from an inmate at the county jail. Will you accept the charges?” an anonymous voice asked. I accepted the call at three dollars a minute.

“Madison, please help me,” Jax said. “I’ll be out of jail in about an hour. Can you come pick me up? I don’t have anyone but you.”

“What in the hell happened?”

“I can explain it all to you when I see you.” His desperation came through loud and clear.

“I go along with some hair-brained scheme, and now this!” I yelled. Jax had been to jail before and, as much as he hated it, he was back to doing the same thing he went to jail for the last time.

“Please, you know I don’t have anyone else to call.”

I sighed. “All right.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

My previous trips to the jail had consisted of me making pickups in the front. It was my first time behind the twelve-foot chain link fence. I found it intimidating to park and walk inside the barbed-wire fenced compound. There were several tall cement buildings with postage-sized windows at regular intervals. After the guard searched me for weapons, he pointed to the left. When I walked into the lobby, I was surprised at how many people filled the chairs at a time when even the bars had closed.

The receptionist barely looked at me as she directed me to a plastic chair.

“How long until he’s released?” I asked.

“When you see him walk out of that door over there.” She pointed. “You’ll know.”

I sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, trying to stay calm and disengaged from my surroundings. The minutes slowly ticked into two hours. I sat staring at the door opening and closing, men and women walking out, free at last, for the moment anyway. I noticed a long delay between releases, which had me wondering if one person worked the busy night shift. Finally, the door opened, and Jax walked out. He looked hung-over, his clothes dirty as if he’d been wearing them for days.

He threw his arms around me and hugged me. “Thank you, Madison.” He started to cry.

“Oh, shut up. I want to hear what happened.” I’d decided a long time ago that his crying was pure manipulation.

“I’ll tell you everything after we get out of here.”

He held my hand tightly as we walked in silence back to my SUV. The morning was chilly, the first rays of light beginning to show in the sky. I breathed easier as we passed the guard shack and the end of the barbed-wire fence, saying a silent thank you that I wasn’t forced to stay. I wanted to go home and shower off the effects of that dreary place.

“Start talking,” I demanded when I pulled out of the parking lot.

“We were out on the water having a great time when one of the girls screamed that Pavel was no longer on the boat. I immediately turned the boat around, and we got out the spotlight and searched the water. I radioed the Coast Guard and continued to search.”

“Who’s Pavel?”

“I don’t know. I met him for the first time a few hours ago. He was a friend of a friend.”

“How did you find out I had a boat? What gave you the right to take the boat in the first place? Start from the beginning, with how you found the keys and then the boat.”

“I found the keys hanging on the key rack in the kitchen.”

“Why is it that you think if you find something, it’s yours?”

“I don’t want to fight. I’m worried about Pavel.”

“Back to the keys.”

“I saw the plastic buoy key ring; I knew they were boat keys. I know you keep notes in your phone book, so I found the number for the storage place and called them to let them know I would be taking out the boat.”

“We had it in dry storage. They just gave it to you?”

“Well, they gave it to Brad.”

“You used Brad’s name? You’d better be long gone when he finds out.” Jax and Brad had been friends during the good years of our marriage. When things started to crumble, it created distance between my family and me. Being a supportive brother, Brad blamed everything on Jax. Being married to someone my family didn’t like was difficult, and Jax gave them good reason to feel that way.

“I had the boat out on the water all day, drinking beer and getting some sun. I cruised through the channels and took it out into open water, then went over to one of the islands and did some swimming.”

“The Coast Guard guy said you were drunk.”

“I had a few beers,” Jax said. “Besides what does he know? I didn’t blow.”

“Who was with you?”

“A couple of friends.”

“You have friends here?” How long had he been lurking around, managing to stay out of sight?

“You know how I am. I’ve been hanging at the Jumpin’ Croc. The beer’s cheap; the locals drink there. I made some friends at Causeway Beach. People like me. Everyone wants to hang with the Jax Man.”

I knew the kind of people he liked to hang out with. He could go anywhere and ferret out the bottom feeders; stranger and best friend were synonymous with him.

“Who exactly was on the boat?” I demanded.

He hesitated. “Pavel and his girlfriend and another couple.”

“Who in the hell are these people?”

“Do you want to know what happened?”

I shook my head. “Go ahead.”

“I was getting ready to put the boat away for the day, and one of the girls who’d been on it earlier called me.”

“Does she have a name?”

“Mary or something like that.”

“Let’s call her Something,” I said with disgust. He never forgot names. What was he hiding?

Anger flashed across his face, a familiar look. “
Mary
had a couple of friends, Pavel and Kym, that she thought could use a boat ride. I swung by the dock and picked up the three of them and Mary’s boyfriend.”