Swindled in Paradise (25 page)

The movers showed up at the door, both pushing dollies filled with boxes. They’d loaded the truck in less than half an hour, and hopefully this would go even quicker and we could all go home. I directed them to stack the marked boxes against the wall in the living/dining room. Ursula could unpack her own crap.

One man dropped the keys to Ursula’s BMW in my hand. They’d off-loaded it into her assigned parking space in the underground garage.

Fab entered behind the movers, turning up her nose. “Next time I move, I’m hiring you.”

“Aren’t you the one who showed up at my house with two suitcases and a handful of boxes?” I smiled as I said, “I can be rid of you in an hour.”

Arriving home late one afternoon, I’d found Fab parked on the couch, Jazz stretched out across her chest. Her suitcases on the floor and boxes in the garage, she’d announced that she’d moved in. We’d come a long way from when she didn’t want to be friends, mostly because I badgered her until she caved.

* * *

Fab’s phone rang on the way back to the Cove. My antenna went up when her vocabulary dropped to four words: yes, no, maybe, and okay.

When she disconnected the call, I pressed my forehead to the passenger window, waiting for her to convince me that she needed my help for one of her smarmy clients.

“The break-up with Ursula didn’t go well.” Fab sighed. “This is a job that doesn’t want to go away.”

“What happened?” I didn’t want to know, but since it seemed like it was about to affect me, now would be a good time to listen.

“Instead of having a quick lunch and severing the relationship, he spent the day with her, even bought her a bracelet that she admired in a jewelry store window. On the way to her new address, he made the mistake of giving her the ‘let’s be friends’ speech. He should have waited until he got her out of the car. “

“Is he still alive?”

Fab glared at my tone of voice. “Barely. He said the words scarcely passed his lips before she flipped out. In an instant, she started screaming and reached across the car, jerking the steering wheel. He managed to avoid a multi-car crash, wrestled the wheel back and ran his Porsche into a tree, crunching the front end up to the windshield.”

I shook my head. “Ursula okay?”

“They’re both lucky; neither of them has a scratch. Apparently that made her even angrier. She launched herself at him, clawing his face bloody, all the while cursing his ancestors. She jumped out of the car, spewing a litany of four letter words. Her parting shot was, “I hope you die,” as he lay dazed, head against the steering wheel, the sound of sirens coming up the street.”

I covered my eyes and said, “Ursula cannot find out about our part in this whole mess. First Ian, now Preston. She might kill us. I’m happy this case is over and we have a few days before we start our stripper careers.”

“Not exactly,” Fab said.

I stuck my fingers in my ears. “Keep it to yourself and take me home.”

Fab waited until we pulled into the driveway and cornered me before I could make it through the front door. “Preston has to go out of town on business, one night only, and wants me to stay overnight. Please don’t make me do it by myself.”

I didn’t blame her for not wanting to be by herself in that condo with Ursula on the loose. “I’ll go.”

Chapter 34

“Knowing Creole’s aversion to this job, I’m surprised he hasn’t called,” I said over my shoulder from where I was hanging over Preston’s balcony, looking down at the patio below.

Preston had freaked out when an unidentified woman called his office and his assistant told the caller he’d be out of town. The woman had hung up without giving a name. He was a man used to snapping his fingers and getting results. Fab knew just how to handle those kinds of men, but all they did was give me a headache.

It was a good thing Fab had only shared the entire story of the drop off with me, but it also made me queasy. If Creole and Didier found out, they’d never let us leave the house again. I didn’t waste any time in informing Brick. I hit the highlights regarding Preston and told him to warn his friend. He informed me that Ian and his daughter had found a new house in a different part of the Keys, had already moved, and would put the old one on the market as soon as the repairs were finished.

My backup plan, if all else failed, was to call Spoon. He excelled at getting rid of bothersome people, but I wasn’t sure how he would feel about relocating a woman, even if she was a psycho pain. Fab and I had breathed a sigh of relief that we hadn’t been implicated in this mess yet and, fingers crossed, it would stay that way.

In the week since the break-up, Ursula had called Preston’s office frequently; he’d had his cell phone number changed. When her calls went unanswered, she snuck past security and was waiting for him in his office when he returned from a meeting. Realizing they’d never rekindle the relationship, she faced him down and attempted blackmail. After a litany of complaints, including that she hated her new residence, needed money, and had lost expensive pieces of jewelry in the move, she threatened to call the police if she didn’t get a blank check. Preston, to his credit, called her bluff and reminded her that the condo was temporary. As for the police, he told her to file a report, and if she ever stepped foot in his office building again, he’d have her arrested and thrown in jail.

“Didier was a grouch this morning, wanting to know why we couldn’t specialize in lost animals and dead people. You need to have a talk with Creole and mention that he needs to keep our business private.”

“They’re best friends,” I reminded Fab. I wondered why I should be the one to initiate that talk. “We share everything; why shouldn’t they?”

“What are we supposed to do all night?” Fab paced the living room.

“Check out the security.” My plan had been to curl up in a chair and read.

“The front gate code’s been changed—I checked both the old and new. All the locks are new. I can’t see Ursula scaling the wall to the third floor.”

I replied, “A security gate without a guard isn’t a deterrent. Anyone with a little patience can get in; just wait for another car and follow it. She could do the same with the lobby doors.”

“A letter went out, warning the residents to beware of anyone using that trick and telling them not to let anyone through the lobby doors who didn’t have a key.” Fab stood up, moving to stand inside the patio doors. “Preston’s paranoid about this trip. He’s certain that it was Ursula on the phone, inquiring about his schedule.”

“If Ursula shows up, what do we do? Shoot her on sight?” I asked.

“For once, I hate that idea. If we so much as get a whiff of her, we call the police. That might take care of the problem for good. You can deal with law enforcement; you’re better at it than me.”

I made a face.
Great…the police!
“Let’s make it appealing for Ursula, in case she does show up. We won’t turn on any lights; make her think no one’s home. You can watch television in the bedroom. I’ll lie on a chaise and read until I get tired.”

* * *

I put some muscle into moving the oversized wicker chaise and pushed it over to the corner, where I’d have the best view of the driveway. I nestled back and listened to the chirping of the crickets, random barking from a dog in the distance, and a few other unidentifiable sounds. The occasional car drove into the complex, but none came towards us. Our section remained quiet. I craned my neck, but didn’t see any lights reflecting off the bushes below, so I assumed the people below were not at home or were in another part of their condo. After reading a couple of paragraphs of my new book, I nodded off.

A hand clamped over my mouth, jerking me awake.

“There’s someone in the bushes,” Fab whispered in my ear. She crouched down beside me.

“Ouch,” followed by a groan, could be heard from directly below us. It was hard to tell whether it was a man’s or woman’s voice. But there wasn’t an innocent reason for someone to be lurking in the bushes.

I rolled over the side of the chaise and onto the ground next to Fab. We stayed hidden behind the patio furniture.

A bright object flew over the balcony, landing on the cushion where I had been sitting and exploding into flames. The heavy chaise caught fire instantly. The burning chair sat close to the hurricane shutters; it would be a short jump through the patio doors, and from there, the fire would leapfrog through the interior.

Fab grabbed my hand and tugged me up. “We need to get off this balcony before we get trapped.”

We had done our recon on the place earlier, inside and out, and there was no way to go over the balcony without ending up severely hurt. It was two floors straight down, with nothing to cushion the landing.

I ran and grabbed the handle of the sliding door. I had the door halfway open when we heard the sound of an engine starting. Fab darted back to the railing to look. “Fab?” I hissed.

“Just great. The bushes are on fire. Do you remember seeing a fire extinguisher?” Fab yelled, racing through the sliding door.

I slid the door behind her with a bang, hoping it would slow the flames from getting inside. Fab sprinted out the front door. I was two steps behind her, hitting the fire alarm button on the security pad as I followed her down the corridor.

A blast filled the air.

What the heck was in that bottle?

“Elevator or stairs?” I ran into Fab’s back when she stopped suddenly.

“Stairs. But we need to make sure the stairwell door doesn’t lock, in case we need to come back up.” Fab held the door open. “This has to be Ursula’s doing. And if she somehow managed to get into the building, then either escape route is a poor choice.”

I had no intention of sacrificing my new workout tee, so I pulled it over my head, my sports bra next. I rolled up the bra and stuck it in the doorjamb.

“I always wondered, since your boobs are bigger than mine, if they hung to your waist. Guess not.”

“You’re loathsome.” I looked down, giving them an admiring glance before pulling my shirt back on. Fab jumped down the steps, and I kept up, running behind her. “Should we stop on each floor and bang on the doors?” I asked.

“Keep moving. That alarm would wake the dead.”

When we escaped the building, it surprised me to see that the gates to the complex stood open.

A man walking his dog yelled, “I called 911.” He held up his cell phone. “I never leave home without this baby.”

Fab made a beeline across the parking lot toward him, but came to a halt when the wiener dog growled at her. “Did you see anything?” she called.

“Don’t worry about Poochy. I’ve got her on a leash,” he said.

I’m sure Fab noticed that he didn’t say a word about the dog not biting, which was a completely different issue.

“You know,” he said slowly, “I watched a person set the fire but honestly didn’t know what I was seeing until the flames licked up. What caught my attention was the person walking up and down, squirting something on the bushes.”

“Male? Female?” Fab asked impatiently.

“I couldn’t say for sure—dressed in dark clothing with a baseball cap pulled low.” He cupped his chin, pausing for a moment. “I’d guess, from the slight build, a woman. I can’t swear to it.”

Sirens sounded in the distance, rapidly approaching.

Fab asked our eyewitness a question that I didn’t hear; I was busy, staring at the entrance, hoping the fire department got here before the building burned down.

“I’m not good with makes of cars,” he said. “A car is a car.”

In my car-oriented family, that statement would draw some incredulous stares
, I thought.

“Look around.” Fab waved her arm. “Do you see anything comparable?”

“It was a sedan.” He looked proud of himself. “Dark in color.”

Fab looked ready to choke him, so I cut in. “Everything you can remember will be helpful to the police.”

“Damn.” He smacked his head. “I almost forgot. I got the last three numbers of the license plate.”

“What are they?” Fab asked.

“Not sure I should be telling you. You’re not a cop, are you?”

Before Fab could give him a hard slap, I said, “We’re friends of Preston’s. Maybe we could text him and see if recognizes it. You wouldn’t want the arsonist to come back, would you?”

“You’re a thinker.” He smiled at me and scrolled through his phone. “E-R-W.”

The fire trucks arrived first, followed by the local police, both of them turning off their sirens as they entered the front gates.

The fire fighters had the fire out in record time. The bottom unit had sustained the most damage; thankfully, those people were not at home. And the neighbors on the second level had gotten out right after us.

An older man in a fire uniform approached us and introduced himself as the chief. I supposed this wasn’t the appropriate time to notice that he was every bit as good-looking as the rest of his team: bushy grey hair, dark eyes, and of course, the man-in-uniform appeal.

“I understand you two were staying on the third floor. Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.

Fab poked me in the back.

Why did I always have to be the front woman?

I related what had happened, reorganizing the details a bit—we were talking on the opposite end of the balcony when the bottle flew over the railing. It was the first time we’d stayed here, and we knew nothing about the owner’s personal life.

“Phone,” I said to Fab and held out my hand. After she slapped it into my palm, I scrolled through it and gave the chief Preston’s contact information.

The police questioned us and the residents of the building. No one had any useful information, and they shifted their attention to the eyewitness.

After we spent two hours standing around doing nothing, a different police officer took our contact information, and we were free to go.

I snapped my fingers at Fab and motioned her over. “Go get our stuff. The only thing I brought was the giant tote bag.”

“Why me?” She looked at me, suspicion on her face.

“Because one of us can charm the pants off a man in a hot second, and it takes longer for the other—wastes precious time. See the hottie blond who can’t take his eyes off you? If you bat those beautiful blue eyes of yours, I bet we get our stuff back before we leave.”