Read Swindled in Paradise Online
Authors: Deborah Brown
Now wasn’t the time to tell her that it was one of my favorite purchases from the tourist paraphernalia store she loathed. “First off, tell Hottie that he’s never, ever to mention our names to anyone. Ursula will get even, and it will be ugly. Next, you’ll inform Pres that this whole plan is on hold until he gets his butt back to town. We need him to keep Ursula distracted and away from the condo for the entire day.”
“Who packs her stuff?” Fab demanded. She’d found a different pen, since she destroyed the first one and was scribbling madly. “Just so you know, I’m not doing it.”
“Look, Princess, the fewer people involved, the better. We pack, hire someone to do the heavy lifting, arrange for storage, and give Preston the key. “And,” I cut Fab off, “I suggest your non-paying client change the locks for every key on his ring as well as all his security codes.”
“Sometimes you amaze even me.”
“Unfortunately, I have experience with less-than-stable people.” I stared out the window as the rain came pouring down in buckets. Free plant-watering, but I wished it would stop so we could go back outside.
“I’ll also tell him he needs to notify security at his other residence and business,” Fab said.
“Here’s a thought—it could neutralize Ursula for a few months. He rents her a place to live, prepaid for, say, six months? We arrange to have her boxes and car delivered, and at the end of the day, he drops her at her new digs and hands over the keys.” I paused, thinking about what I already knew about the woman. “I’m thinking Preston should get her out of the car before unveiling his surprise. There’s always a chance she could go crazy on him and possibly involve the police. He could get a restraining order based on her past acts, but you and I know that a person can go off the rails in the meantime and create havoc before they can be stopped.”
“You take care of planning her move, and I’ll coordinate the security issues.”
“That’s why we’re the perfect team; you’re the looker and I have the good ideas.”
“I have good ideas,” Fab growled.
“If we shoot everyone, we won't get any clients. And there will go my fun.”
“It’s all about you, isn’t it?”
I hung my head and laughed. "Yes," I squeaked.
“In the future, I need to remind myself that the best jobs are in and out and collect our money.”
“Hmm…when was the last time we had a job like that? I’m thinking never.” I grabbed the notepad and pen and added to her notes. “Inform Preston we need a list of which rooms, closets, and drawers we’ll find her stuff in. I’ll get moving men from Spoon. His guys aren’t slackers, and they won’t blab any details.”
“Ursula hasn’t been in residence very long, so hopefully, she won’t have much stuff there. Do you think she’ll go away and we’ll get lucky enough to never hear her name again?”
“Ha! Getting even will be foremost in her mind. Look at her track record. She humiliated Ian and left him with nothing except for what was in his suitcase, from a ski trip no less. Then spread scurrilous accusations all over town to anyone who would listen. Bet you she’s left behind gruesome memories for other victims.”
“I’m going to suggest he get a beefy male housesitter for when he’s not in Duck Key, at least for a little while.”
“I’ve got just the man for the job. He’s not beefy, but he’s mean as stink.”
“Really, Madison,” she said in her haughty voice. “Where do you meet these people?”
“When one of your white-collar criminal friends starts housesitting, have them send over a business card. Mine are more reliable and don’t steal. Supply them with beer and greasy food, and they’ll stay as long as you need.”
Fab whooshed out a long breath. “I’ll call Hottie and run down the plan, let him know you’ll be emailing him a detailed checklist so this goes off with no guns being drawn.”
“Amen, sister. You might mention to Mr. Freebie that if he has a legal job that needs to be done, he should us a call. You also might want to mention that this job isn’t exactly legal. If he wants to keep his hands unsullied, inform him that to get Ursula out sooner, he’d have to pony up a huge bribe or get a court order, which could take three to four months, depending on how savvy she is around the legal system. She’s the type to find out how to prolong the eviction process.”
“Do you think we can pull this off without involving the law or getting into any trouble?” Fab looked hopeful.
“With you involved?” I arched my brow.
The front door flew open. “Fabiana Merceau!” Didier bellowed. My stomach sank; the man didn’t sound happy. I’d never heard him yell like that.
Didier marched into the living room, Creole right behind him, both of them in bicycle attire, covered in sweat. Fab looked at him in surprise.
“Why isn’t the GPS working—again?” Didier bit off, glaring down at her.
I narrowed my eyes at Creole and gave him a dirty look, knowing damn well this must be the “surprise” he mentioned a while back.
Fab made a few sounds in French.
Didier cut her off. “English! I’m sure your best friend would like to hear the answer.”
I already knew but didn’t think it prudent to mention it. If I were closer, I’d whisper, “Tell the truth,” in her ear.
Fab stood. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“No!” he thundered. “Sit back down and answer the question.”
“I didn’t…” she started. “I don’t….” She stared at her angry boyfriend.
I looked down and squeezed my eyes shut. Fab was going to lie. She had to know that Didier already knew the truth and she needed to cough it up, no matter how uncomfortable.
After a long pause, she blurted, “I disconnected it.”
“Why? I know you don’t give a damn about your safety since you think you’re invincible, but what about Madison?” He was still angry but not yelling.
She reverted to French, as she always did when she spoke to Didier. He cut her off with a curt gesture.
“How many units have you dismantled? Driven over?” Didier demanded. “You still haven’t offered a good reason for it.”
Creole turned and went into the kitchen, pulling up a stool.
“Would anyone…” I started and saw Creole shake his head. The hell with him; he started this mess. “How about a cold drink?” I offered, hoping to lighten up the awkward silence.
Didier smiled for the first time. “No, thank you.”
Creole wiggled his finger at me, but I ignored him. If he wanted something, he was sitting in the kitchen; he could get it himself.
“I don’t like that your ass… your friend over there is keeping tabs.” Fab’s words were tinged with bitterness. “As hard as this might be for you to believe, just today I thought about not doing it again.”
Didier put one finger under her chin and lifted her head, forcing her to look him directly in the eyes. “I love you. I just want you to be safe.”
Fab whispered back a response.
Didier held out his hand, helping Fab to her feet. “You—” he pointed at me, “should also be mindful of your safety. I’m sure Creole will have plenty to say.” He glanced over his shoulder at his friend.
“That will be difficult, since I’m not speaking to him,” I said.
Fab smiled, and I winked back.
Chapter 29
A rustling noise from the top of the stairs made me crack open an eye to see if it was Fab or Didier who had the insomnia. Creole had gotten a phone call before we could discuss the drama that had unfolded in the living room. After he exchanged a few terse sentences with someone, he gave me a toe-curling kiss and whispered against my lips, “I’ll make this up to you. All of it.”
After he left, I lay on the daybed with Jazz’s head on my chest, too tired to walk upstairs to my bedroom, and read until my eyes closed.
The nightlight illuminated a long, hairless leg as it came into view. I shook my head, thinking the woman couldn’t stay out of trouble for five minutes. “Where do you think you’re sneaking off to?”
Fab squealed, peering over the banister. “You scared the hell out of me.”
I inwardly groaned. The blue jeans thrown over one arm and tennis shoes in her hand meant an unsanctioned night job. “Pretty underwear.”
“Bought it special for Didier.” She twirled around, showing off the small piece of black lace and string.
“I bet you have the cleanest butt in town, since you floss every day.”
“You’re disgusting.” She scowled, tossing her shoes on the floor and skinnying into her jeans.
“If I were standing, I’d curtsy. Does Didier know you’re slinking out into the night? You think it’s a good idea to go out by yourself after the safety talk?” I rolled onto my side, facing Fab exasperated with her and tired of wringing the details of her escapades out of her when she snuck back in.
“I’d like to know where you’re going!” Didier barked from the top of the stairs, shirtless, his hair tousled.
“You two sleep like dead people and you’re both awake?” Fab took a step towards Didier.
It shocked her when he held up his hand. “You want to sneak around, go ahead.” He started back up the stairs.
“Stop!” she yelled. “Come back and let me explain.”
“If this is about your insomnia, I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe I was stupid enough to believe that story.” He leaned against the banister, not taking a step in either direction.
I relocated Jazz and stood up. “I’ll see you two in the morning.”
“Sit back down.” She motioned to me. “You might as well hear this. I have chronic insomnia, and that was never a lie,” she insisted. “Once I wake up, I rarely go back to sleep. I lay in the dark and think about my cases and sometimes come up with a plan of action that I hadn’t given thought to or one that is better executed during non-business hours.”
“Which client?” Didier demanded.
“Will you please come down and sit?” She held out her hand.
The two engaged in a stare-down, then he moved slowly down the stairs and threw himself in a chair opposite the couch.
“It’s not a client,” she said in a soft voice. “It has to do with the man I love, and he needs my help whether he wants it or not.”
Feeling like a third wheel, I was happy to see Didier’s face relax as he exhaled his frustration. “So what’s your plan?” I asked, having a good idea what it was and hoping Didier wouldn’t flip.
“I’ve put off searching Balcazar’s offices long enough. At some point, Lauren’s office will get cleaned out, and I’ll kick myself for the missed opportunity.”
“Fabiana.” Didier ran his hands through his hair.
“I swear to you,” she held up her hand, “in and out, and I’ll come straight home. Ask Madison, these jobs are uneventful.”
Didn’t you just walk in on a man in his bed in a supposedly vacant residence?
I kept silent.
“The ass you referred to earlier mentioned he’d like a go at those offices. At the time, I figured Creole mentioned the idea so I wouldn’t be surprised when you decided to sneak around and do it yourself,” Didier said.
I sucked in my breath and glared at Fab. “I’m sure you didn’t mean Creole. I never call your boyfriend names.”
Didier snapped out a laugh. “Thank you,
chérie
,” he said to me.
“I’ll go as backup,” I offered. “What the hell; I’m awake anyway.”
Didier shot me a glare. Right after he moved in, he’d given Mother and me a shaking finger every time we uttered a “coarse” word.
“Hell’s not so bad; it could’ve been worse,” I teased.
“I’m going. Give me five minutes to change,” Didier said. “Don’t waste time arguing. You,” he pointed at me, “need to change. I plan to learn from you how to be backup.”
“The sweat shorts are fine. Don’t forget a shirt and tennis shoes, in case you need to make a run for it,” I said over my shoulder on my way upstairs.
Chapter 30
We parked down the street from Balcazar’s beachfront headquarters. The building was dark, except for a few stray office lights that burned overhead. The bars had closed, and in addition to there being no cars on the road, there wasn’t a single person wandering the sidewalk.
Fab drove with Didier by her side, and I rode in the backseat, stretched out, reading on my phone. The only sounds were the mumbling of the two in the front, who couldn’t be bothered to speak louder so I could eavesdrop. I was quite certain that sticking my head between the seats would earn me glares from both of them.
“You know what to do.” Fab looked at me over the headrest. “Text me if anyone shows up. I’ll message you when I’m out, and you can pick me up around the corner.” She leaned across, kissing Didier. “If you need to shoot someone, let her do it. She’s a damn good shot.”
“Are you sure I can’t talk you out of this? It’s not too late,” Didier muttered.
“We can leave if you want, but I’ll just come back when you’re out of town.”
It took a minute for him to reply. “Fine.”
“Don’t worry.” Fab opened the door. “You two behave.” She put on dark sunglasses that covered most of her face and pulled her baseball cap down.
Normally, I’d crawl over the seat, but with Didier in the front, I got out and slid back in behind the wheel. “First, hard as it is, try not to worry. Keep alert for anything unusual.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “What’s really first is to text Creole our location.”
“I wanted to go with her, but she politely pointed out that I didn’t have the required skills to commit a felony and stay out of jail. What kind of man lets his girlfriend put herself at risk?” Didier stared out the windshield.
“I failed to mention that you look hot in your work clothes.” I ran my eyes down his long legs to his designer tennis shoes. His finely sculpted arms showed from under his short-sleeved shirt. “To heck with those designer suits.”
“Is that how you change the subject with Fabiana? Feed her ego with sweet comments?” he laughed.
“Usually I give her a double dose of sarcasm, and that snaps her right out of her funk.” I kept my eyes peeled over the steering wheel at 100 Ocean Boulevard. “If you see any lights go on or off, let me know. That would mean Fab has company.”
My phone rang, and I looked down and grimaced at the screen before answering. “What’s up?”