Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (6 page)

“Make yourself comfortable, Mother. I don’t think we
’
re going anywhere until after the sheriff and coroner leave, whenever that is.” I wrinkled my nose.

“Do you have any idea where… well…
he
came from?” Mother pointed to the front door.

I shook my head, but I noticed that more than once since the discovery Jax had popped into my head. I couldn’t help but wonder if he could supply any answers. Before mentioning his name, I planned to speak to him, on the chance I was wrong. I hadn’t even told Mother he
’
d arrived in town. Could there be a correlation in Jax's situation and the corpse-less head on our front stoop?

The door opened and everyone trooped back inside, Fab in the rear. She looked at me and shook her head, giving no indication she had anything newsworthy.

Creole crooked his finger at me. His blue eyes, dark and intense, checked me over, his mouth twisted and hard. I returned his stare but focused on the day-old beard that begged me to run my cheeks across the whiskers.

He sighed at my hesitation and crossed the room, hooking my arm around his neck and scooping me into his arms.

“I can walk,” I whispered, then licked the stubble on his cheek.

“Behave yourself,” he whispered back and carried me through the doors out to the far corner of the pool. He sat on a chaise and put me on his lap.

At first I thought he would kiss me, but instead he looked down my top. “I called Kevin; he should be here in a few minutes. Spoon ID
’
d the head as belonging to an ambitious, low-level drug dealer, Jones Graw. Spoon thought he moved north a long time ago. Big question is, why is he dead and how did end up on your doorstep? I don’t like the message that
’
s being sent.”

Neither did Fab
, I thought.

“Maybe he got delivered to the wrong door.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed myself against him, making a kissy face.

His lips found mine, sparking chemistry. The kiss grew demanding, consuming, lips and tongues dancing. Creole
’
s arms encircled me as I dissolved into him. After a long moment, I finally pressed my face against his chest, breathing heavily.

“Break it up, you two,” Fab said cheerfully, as she rattled a deck chair against the concrete.

I glared at her. “You couldn’t just call out from the door?”

She scooped her hair off her neck and pulled it into a ponytail. “No, I couldn’t,” she laughed and walked away.

Creole
’
s hands cupped my face. “I have to go. I don’t want you to worry. I called in a few favors, and your house will be under constant surveillance.”

“Don’t you think I need a personal body guard? Someone who never leaves my side? Sexy and funny is a must.” I smiled up at him.

“Got that covered. I’ll be back,” Creole said as he gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

I watched as he disappeared onto the path in the direction of the beach.

Chapter 6

The last place I wanted to be was inside my house, but guilt led me back. I peeked through the doors before entering. Mother sat on the couch with Kevin Cory, a local sheriff, next to her. He
’
d be my brother-in-law when my brother Brad marries his sister. He only tolerated the Westin women, and I heard him tell my brother it would be nice if we didn’t go off ‘half-cocked
’
all the time.

Kevin was minus a partner these days and wouldn’t have another one anytime soon, due to cut backs. His last one asked for a transfer 'out of this
dickwater'
town. Kevin said she'd complained incessantly about the dull-witted people. Lucky her, she got sent to Gainesville, a college town in the middle of the state with no beach view.

Three other uniformed local sheriffs that I didn’t recognize milled around. I looked at the stairs, wondering if I could sneak up them unnoticed and hide in my bedroom, but I didn’t think that would be supportive of Mother. Spoon sat next to her and had her anchored to his side.

Brad didn’t approve of their relationship, due to Spoon
’
s colorful past. I reminded him that the man had reformed and become a somewhat-scary pillar of the community. I also pointed out that, although younger, at least Spoon wasn’t our age or 'fresh out of high school' as we liked to tease Mother. What hadn’t escaped Brad
’
s notice was that Spoon made Mother happy.

Mother was in her sixties, but lied about her age. They were an attractive couple. She was always well-dressed. Not long ago, her blonde hair would have never be out of place. Now she sported a wind-whipped look. She
’
d been a good influence on Spoon. He seemed less intimidating somehow and smiled more often. Mother had a hand in upgrading his wardrobe, but still kept it beach-casual.

I slipped into the kitchen and sat at the island. Because of the open floor plan, from here I could survey the living room, yet not be an easy target for relentless questioning.

Fab slipped onto the stool across from me. “The coroner just left with a metal box in hand.”

“Did you overhear anything?” I shuddered, pushing away gruesome images.

Fab looked around before answering. “You know I
’
m not allowed to eavesdrop anymore.”

I rolled my eyes. “That may be, but you do it anyway.” I'd seen Didier disappear upstairs. “I
’
m going to have a talk with Didier about changing you into someone totally unfun. Thank goodness you only listen when it suits you.”

“How long before you can get Weirdo, the crime scene cleaner, over here?”

“Is there a big mess out there?” I squeezed my eyes closed. “You have to stop calling him that, or I’ll never remember his name. And it
’
s not ‘
Weirdo.’”

We looked at one another and laughed. We both knew that giving people rude nicknames was juvenile and a habit we needed to break.

I stood up, walked over to the kitchen garden window, and stretched across the sink as I checked out the courtyard. Nothing appeared out of place. The only sign of a crime was a piece of yellow tape tossed on the driveway.

“It will be a long time before I use the front door again,” I said.

“Just think of it as an excuse to drag home second-hand stuff and plant it with flowers,”
she smirked.

“It has me thinking about redoing the front step. Hire someone hunky to pour a skim coat of concrete over the death scene, and I’ll embed it with seashells.”

Fab had more patience for my shelling hobby of late. She had zero patience for walking on the beach and having to slow down so I could bend over every other step. Now she helped me fill the bucket to the top, then we’d hide it and finish our walk. I had been banned from sneaking off on my own to find shells, which annoyed Fab because it took her longer to find me, and she liked knowing where everyone was.

Fab snorted.

“I heard that. I’ve got to leave. There
’
s an emergency at The Cottages,” I said. I didn’t look at her to sell my lie, but thought it sounded convincing.

The whole dead body––well, the severed head––and all its implications made me squeamish. If I could put distance between me and the doorstep, I could pretend for a little while it never happened.

Fab put her finger under my chin and turned my face up.

“
I
don’t
like saying I don’t believe you, but I don’t.”

“Be a best friend and take care of things here.” I jumped up to leave. I'd barely taken two steps when she grabbed the back of my shirt and jerked me to a halt.

Fab cleared her throat. “Kevin, do you have any questions for us? If not, we
’
re headed to The Cottages. Miss January
’
s lost her cat again, and you know how upset she gets.”

Spoon smirked at Fab.
“I can’t imagine you have any feline skills. Must be my step-daughter.”

“Please don’t say that in front of Brad,” I said. Spoon and my brother were getting along these days; step-daddy talk would throw cold water on good relations.

Kevin
’
s mouth dropped open and he turned to Mother. “You married him?”

I glared at him. It irked me that Kevin never gave Spoon credit for turning his life around, especially when Mr. Straight and Narrow Cop had a fondness for strippers.

“I can handle things here,” Spoon said, ignoring Kevin. “Pretty Boy
’
s got an appointment in Miami.” Spoon's eyes shot to the top of the stairs where Didier stood giving him the finger.

“We
’
ll be finished up in a few,”
Kevin informed us.
“If I have any more questions, I’ll save them for the next family dinner,” he said with a laugh. Everyone glared at him. Not long ago, I decided to play get-along and started including him in family get-togethers, which were never without a little drama.

“
Madison,
” Mother started. “When we
’re done here, I’
m going with Spoon. We
’
re going out on the boat.”

I walked over, leaned in, and gave her one of her patented stern looks. “Take your phone. And don’t get in any trouble.”

“What about him?” She nodded at Spoon.

“Don’t get him in any trouble either.” I hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Have fun.”

Chapter 7

Fab sat at the signal, revving the engine of the SUV, flirting with a young hottie who didn’t want to race but wanted her to pull over. I clutched the arm rest and looked out the window. I wished she
’
d find another source of amusement. The light turned green. She took off and hung a hard right onto her favorite dead-end... or so the sign said. Only a handful of locals, and insomniacs with severe snooping skills, knew that the last driveway was a thru-way to the next street over.

As she blew through the wooded residential area, my phone rang. I looked down at the screen.

“When he calls me, it
’
s some awful job he knows you
’ll
say no to,” I told Fab. I rejected the call and shut my phone off.

Instantly Fab
’
s phone rang.

“Hi, Boss,” she answered.

Finally, after incessant nagging and a few threats on my part, we now had a reciprocal listening agreement and put our phones on speaker.  “She hung up on me again!” Brick started yelling.

“She answered, but the line was dead. Bad reception.” Fab made a face.

“I want the two of you in my office five minutes ago,”
he said before he hung up.

“He and I need to go over the terms of my employment agreement,” I grouched.

I had nothing in writing and insisted I would only take work on a case-by-case basis, but that was nothing more than big talk as we rarely said no.

In the contract Fab had with him, she never said “get screwed” to any of his jobs. In exchange, she drove the hottest cars in town until he wanted them back. I paid for my car, so I felt less inclined to be ordered around.

“What do you suppose he wants?” Fab asked.

“Think of all the jobs you wouldn’t take and pick one of those. Are you keeping him as a client now that you’ve got your lighthouse?”

“I need him until I get other clients. Are you forgetting he pays cold hard cash?” Fab asked.

Of course Brick paid better than anyone in town. His jobs had a tendency to go sideways. Word had gotten around, and now he had a difficult time hiring freelance help.