Swindled in Paradise (9 page)

“There were two maggots at the bar from a previous case, I hadn’t realized that they were back in town. They won’t be staying long,” he barked. “Overreaction—that’s the same word Fab used in her vague explanation to Didier.” Creole’s angry face glared at me. “Didier hasn’t figured out yet that his girlfriend is light on the truth. When the color drained from your face and you refused to set foot in the place, it pissed me off that she’d set up this stupid dinner. Besides, although I’d like to meet Balcazar, it’s better that I continue to operate in the background. Now spill,” he demanded.

“If you need any info on your maggot acquaintances, I can hand their names off to our Information Coordinator.” Then I told him in exacting detail what had happened that day, backing up a couple of times to make sure I didn’t leave anything out. I told him that the day had started out as a job from one of Fab’s corporate clients, but we hadn’t even had time to order a drink before the bullets flew, and that we’d snuck out at the first opportunity. “It was never my intention to hide anything,” I said. “I didn’t think a ‘just shot at’ text message was appropriate. And I really had planned to tell you the day Didier got arrested. Then, with so much going on, I forgot.”

He entwined his fingers with mine and squeezed. “Didier told me about the shooting, but not a word about the two of you being there, and believe me, he would have if he’d known, which means Fab didn’t tell him. Something about his friend must not be sitting right. He asked me to nose around, check out the kind of people Balcazar does business with and why someone would shoot up the restaurant…also why someone might want to kill Lauren and whether there was a link. He wanted his questions answered before signing off on the condo complex deal.”

I scooted closer to him and leaned my head on his arm. “I had a bunch of questions myself. I went online and read everything I could find on both shootings. The articles were light on specifics, and most of the stories were reposted from the original AP posts with barely a mention by the local press. I also looked for any references to witnesses sneaking off, which would have made us look guilty as opposed to not wanting to make the local news.”

Creole grabbed a quick kiss at the red light. “According to the detectives assigned to the case, the employees at B’s haven’t been cooperative. One detective summed up the case as ‘Balcazar screwed someone, and since no one got killed, it was a warning.’ Didier doesn’t want to believe his friend is hanging with the wrong crowd, and my advice was to stay far away, no matter what the explanation is. Anyone bold enough to carry off that job in broad daylight could have killed everyone in the restaurant. Who knows what they’d do next.”

I kicked off my shoes as we rode in silence back to the Cove, happy when the headlights flashed on the city limit sign.

Creole finally broke the long silence. “Balcazar sucks as a friend. He thinks Didier killed Lauren.”

I gasped. “I’ll bet Fab doesn’t know that.”

“I don’t understand why Didier wanted to go to B’s. He doesn’t need a free dinner. I’d have told Balcazar to shove it up his …” Creole fumed and laid his arm across my shoulders. “I want you to stay away from anything that has to do with Balcazar unless I know the details
in
advance.
I find it interesting that he hired Fab to do a job when he could have had a high profile security firm do his dirty work.” He held up his hand. “I know she’s good, but Balcazar is all about appearance, according to Didier. I suggested that he put the real estate deal on hold until we find out who Balcazar really is and who murdered Lauren. The last thing we need is to get involved in something illegal.”

A Mercedes SUV swerved around the Hummer, honking its horn and coming dangerously close to the bumper before speeding off. Creole gave a half-laugh but didn’t react. A minute later, flashing lights came out of nowhere and the chase was on to catch the speeding car.

“Can I roll down the window and wave when we pass?” I asked.

Creole grabbed my hand. “The officer might see you and radio ahead to his partner, and we’d get the next ticket.”

“Are you mad that I made a scene at the restaurant?” I asked in a quiet voice.

“Hell, no. I didn’t want to go, but when a good friend asks, how do you say no? Change of plans just means I can get you naked that much sooner.”

“Are you planning on feeding me first?”

He handed me his phone. “Call in a takeout order anywhere you want.”

Chapter 12

Returning from a coffee run to our favorite bakery, I parked in the driveway and ran around to the passenger side, leaning across to lay on the horn. An annoying reminder to Fab to speed it up. I hit the horn again on the off-chance she hadn’t heard me the first time.

The front door banged open. Fab shook her finger at me as she marched across the driveway. Didier waved from the kitchen garden window. He held Jazz and waved his paw. I waited to see if the cat bit him.

“Really?” Fab said as she slid into the driver’s seat. “That racket isn’t very neighborly.”

“One of them is old and hardly ever wears his hearing-aid; he enjoys shouting. I don’t see any of the others standing outside looking for the noise offender. You should thank me for thinking about you and not wanting you to drink a lukewarm double espresso.” I pointed to the cup.

She popped the lid off and took a sniff. “Hmm, my favorite.”

“Did you finally cough up the whole truth to Didier about what went down at B’s when you showed up for your dubious job interview?”

She banged her fist on the steering wheel, letting out a big sigh. “Why didn’t I just tell him the whole truth the first time?” She frowned. “Didier told me he was tired of having a liar for a girlfriend and that we’ve been together long enough that I should trust him. If not, what are we doing together?”

Didier had replaced my brother in the last-to-know department. Another added heap of humiliation for Fab was that everyone in the family knew that her first confession of an incident was always heavily edited.

“Did you have an answer?” I asked.

“I didn’t get the chance. He issued an edict: next time it happens, we’re over.” She whispered the last word as though she couldn’t believe he would leave her.

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do,” she snapped. “I can’t imagine my life with someone else, and I don’t want to. He’s the first man I’m certain I can trust with my secrets and that he won’t throw them back in my face, and yet I never seem to remember that in the moment. My usual excuse of wanting to protect him sounds lame even to me.”

I reached across and gently tugged on a strand of her hair. My best friend looked ready to cry, and I wasn’t sure what to do. “You listen to me,” I scolded. “Tell as much of the truth as you can spit out, then add, ‘I may have forgotten something and reserve the right to amend it later.’ Works with Creole. You might want to mention that changing overnight is a tad unrealistic, but you’re going to make every effort. Here’s the most important part—you have to be the one to fill him in on any missed details before anyone else does.”

“We’re not breaking up! I can start by sharing something every day. That way, he’ll see I’m making an effort.” Fab turned slightly and stared out the window. “We sat through dinner as though we were on an awkward first date. I don’t know how much more polite chit-chat I can stand.”

“Just be your charming, kinky self. I’ll go to Creole’s, and you can have the house to yourselves. That way, you can make all the noise you want.”

Fab’s eyes were glued to the road as she drove in a way I’d never seen, staying in one lane, holding the SUV to a tad above the speed limit. I’d never admit out loud that I liked her nauseating style of driving better than the brooding woman she was today.

“How was your dinner with Balcazar?”

“I’d met him several times when I was with Didier but never exchanged more than a few words in person. The job offer was transacted over the phone. Slimy—that was my impression of him. He wants me to come back and finish the job of checking out his employees, but before I could come up with a way to blow him off, Didier told him no and didn’t offer an explanation.”

“Good for Didier. Mad or not, the man loves you. I still don’t get why Balcazar extended the dinner invitation. Creole told me that Balcazar told Didier to his face that he thought he murdered Lauren.”

“Didier thought he would apologize or offer an explanation as to what the….” She shook her head, finished off her latte and handed it to me. “Didier had an interesting observation: that he’d never known his friend at all. Thinks Balcazar collects people, calls them friends. After all, they may be useful down the line.”

“I’ve had a couple of friends like that, and when they found out I’d never be of any help to their agenda, I never heard from them again. It used to hurt my feelings; now it’s good riddance.”

We fist-bumped.

“Did Lauren’s death make it into the conversation?” I asked.

“I brought up the topic, asking if he knew anyone who would want Lauren dead. Balcazar dodged the question, and when I pressed him, he struggled to control his anger. About the time Didier pinched my thigh to try to get me to shut up, Balcazar suddenly remembered he was under orders from his attorney not to talk to anyone about the case.”

“Did Balcazar act like he was hiding anything?” I pointed to the sign indicating that our turnoff was coming up.

“More like he talked about his reputation and clearly didn’t want anything to tarnish his pristine image.”

Chapter 13

Fab pulled off the Overseas Highway and into a winding cul-de-sac. The houses were all cookie cutter, two story, and waterfront; the only thing differentiating them was the color. We cruised down the street. At the turn-around, residents shared a large, green, grassy park that hosted a few picnic tables, some playground equipment, and a boat launch ramp. Ian’s home stuck out in the well-manicured area. Thanks to the vindictive girlfriend, it looked sadly neglected and fallen into disrepair. A contractor’s sign poked out of the brown and weed-filled lawn, no sign of any workers.

In place of a front door, a sheet of plywood had been nailed over the opening, a “do not enter” sign prominently displayed on it. The double-paned windows that ran along the front were newly installed, the stickers still in place.

We sat at the curb and checked out the neighboring properties.

“I suppose we have permission to enter the property in case anyone should ask?” I patted my Glock where it rested at the small of my back. Breaking into a vacant house could easily bring an unpleasant surprise.

Fab glanced over her shoulder. “Then I’m pulling into the driveway. You can handle any police issues.”

“Hopefully that doesn’t happen. Let’s check out the back first. Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be a lock we can pick. I doubt Ian would appreciate us breaking a new window.”

Just as we slammed the doors of the SUV, a neighbor from the adjoining property walked out from under his carport and headed straight for us. “What are you two doing?” the older man asked. I guessed him to be a retiree, enjoying the sunshine in Bermuda shorts and tennis shoes.

Fab excelled at dealing with older men. I wanted to smack her when she didn’t step forward, leaving me to take the initiative. “We were hired to make regular checks on the property.”

From his look of disbelief, he clearly didn’t believe a word. “We’ll see about that. If you’re lying, I’ll have you arrested. I’ve already got your license plate number,” he warned as he removed his phone from his shirt pocket and dialed a number. “You hire two girls to check out your property?” he said into the phone. Whatever the other person said made it clear we were liars, and he shook his head at us. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this. They’re headed to jail.”

“Tell Ian to call Brick Famosa,” Fab yelled in frustration. “Maybe he didn’t get the message.”

The old man gave us a nod and waved us back. “I’ll keep an eye out,” he said and ended the call. “Ian could hear you yelling; he’s going to check it out.”

“Did you know Ursula?” I asked. He gave me a skeptical look as I went on. “She didn’t do all this damage by herself. Got a clue who helped?”

He hesitated for so long, I didn’t think he’d respond. He checked us out carefully from head to toe before answering. “There were two moving vans that day, showed up at the same time, both from one of those u-rent places. The first one filled up in a couple of hours and left; the second one didn’t leave until late. I counted four men; two of them left with the first truck and showed back up several hours later, after which, none of them left until after dark. The second truck had been backed up flush to the garage, and I had no clue they were gutting the inside of the house.”

“Any sign of Ursula since?” Fab asked.

His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen, stepped back, and answered. The conversation was short, and he ended with, “I’ll call you later.”

He inclined his head and motioned for us to follow him as he took a walkway around to the back of Ian’s house. He pulled a wad of keys out of his pocket and turned towards us. “Ian told me to let you in.”

I eyed the plain wood, temporary door that had been installed, knowing a good swift kick would leave it hanging off the hinges.

He noticed my scornful look. “New doors are on order. They should be installed next week.”

To the left of the door, a cement pad that had once held the air conditioner unit was now empty, the wires cut and left dangling. Most people didn’t know the units were a popular target for theft for the resale value of the copper. Had Ian bolted it down, who knows what the spiteful Ursula might have done next.

We walked into what was once a kitchen. The large space looked naked without a single cabinet or fixture, wiring dangling where appliances had once been. Although we had heard about the extensive damage, Fab and I exchanged shocked looks.

Every room had been stripped and left with gaping holes in the drywall. If Ursula’s intent had been to inflict extensive damage, she’d succeeded, leaving only the pink bedroom at the end of the hall untouched. Brick had told us that Ursula had left it completely intact, but now it stood empty.