Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series) (19 page)

My shoulders sagged. “What the hell am I going to tell Mr. Ivers?”

“There is good news. The concrete walls are charred but still standing, burned the roof off, destroyed plumbing and electrical and all the equipment.”

“That’s some crappy good news.” I felt responsible. “What else?”

“The old weirdo at the trailer park, out on his nightly rounds of snooping through people’s trash, investigated and saw Quirky lurking, and a short time after, flames leaped through the roof. Quirky’s nowhere to be found now.”

“What about Vanilla? Did she leave with him?” 

“When Quirky left the first time, he left his sister’s belongings in a couple of boxes outside the office. But when he went back, he threw them inside and they burned in the fire.”

“The owner is an old man...”

“Tell him the truth. At least no one got hurt or worse. Honestly didn’t see this coming. My guess? Quirky had this planned.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” I stared out the windshield wondering what to say to Mr. Ivers. I called and left a message, telling him we needed to get together.

* * *

I pulled into the driveway of The Cottages thinking about my trip to Clean Bubbles. I sat at the curb and surveyed the damage, feeling guilty. I’d learned a lot in my previous life with my ex-husband, Jax. He’d been a contractor and used me as an errand girl more than a few times. I spent a lot of time at the hardware store. After a while, I began to take on my own projects and my first one, a flip-house, made a big profit. Even having to replace the entire electrical and plumbing, the wash bays could see action soon.

As I sat in a daze, the Hummer jerked forward. Looking in my rearview, a two-door pickup slammed into my rear end, pushing my front bumper up against a pair of twenty-foot palm trees. The truck roared back in reverse and burned rubber, banging into me again.

I threw the door open and jumped out. “What the hell?” I screamed. The Hummer was thoroughly smooshed in, courtesy of the steel bars across the woman’s front grill.

Damn, another crazy one with a license.
The woman, not satisfied with her handiwork thus far, revved her engine again.

A gunshot rang out and the front tire of the pickup went flat. Mac stood in the driveway, Smith and Wesson in her hand; Shirl behind her with a Berretta.

“Get out of that piece of shit truck!” Mac yelled and waved her gun. “Now.”

A six foot tall bleach blonde slinked out with legs for days, which were displayed in cutoff jeans that barely covered her lady parts, and red stilettos. She was wearing the tightest T-shirt ever pulled over a pair of double Ds.

“Are you drunk?” I yelled.

“You bitch.” She kicked off her heels, flipping them into the truck bed. “Where’s your crappy little friend?” Spit flew from her mouth.

I pulled my Glock from its thigh holster. “Forget about her.” I pointed to Mac. “You take one step in my direction and I’ll shoot you. I have a proven track record.”

A taxi pulled up in front and Joseph struggled to get out, reaching back to grab a couple bags of groceries.

Shirl holstered her gun and hustled to help.

“I wouldn’t shoot one of Brick’s top dancers if I was you,” Joseph said, and spit into the bushes. “I want a rent credit for that good advice. Hey, Mango,” He nodded to the blonde, “Be careful, she shoots people.” He pointed at me, giving the two bags in his hands to Shirl and shuffling up the driveway.

I looked at the back of the Hummer and really wanted to shoot her. So this is Mango, Gunz’s psycho, nose-biting, black-mailing girlfriend.

“Just so you know, Mango, you just dented one of Brick’s autos. Good luck explaining that one. Now what do you want?”

“I want what you and your bitch friend stole from me,” she screeched. “Don’t bother lying from those puny lips of yours, Bitsy told me.”

“First of all, you stole the book to begin with and held it hostage, you greedy bitch. The only reason you’re not dead is because you-know-who likes to bang you.”

Two men from the rental house across the street came outside, sat in a couple of rickety chairs, and put their feet up, smoking and sucking down a beer. One gave me a thumbs up.

“I’m calling the cops.” Mango deliberately sent a stream of spit in my direction.

“Dare you. Do you want to use my phone?” I pulled my phone from my pocket, holding it up.

Mac laughed. “I’ll call for you. I think handcuffs would look good on you.”

Mango regarded me with an unflinching stare. “That was my retirement and ticket to the good life.”

“Consider yourself lucky that the disgruntled party got his book back, because at some point he’d stop thinking with his dick and you’d disappear—never enjoying one day of ‘the good life.’ Get out of here and don’t come back,” I warned her.

Mango looked at my gun and then Mac’s. “This isn’t over,” she said, and got back in her truck.

“If you’re planning on a long life, it better be!” I yelled.

Mango flipped me the double finger through the windshield, screaming every variation of the ‘F’ word she could think of out the window. She ground her gears in reverse, and, with steel-on-concrete scraping noises, made a dramatic exit, running on the rim of the bad tire. She rolled into the planter across the street and sparks flew all the way to the corner.

The two men across the street wolf whistled and clapped their hands over their heads.

“What the hell was that all about?” Mac holstered her gun.

“Backlash from a little job, Fab retrieved some stolen property and returned it to its rightful owner. Anything new going on? What’s going on with Shirl and Joseph?” I tossed my head in the direction of his cottage.

“It’s the nurse thing. She looks out for Joseph and Miss January. Oh and by the way, Miss January confessed she’s selling her urine for cash.”

“Who buys urine?” I rolled my eyes. “She was probably drunk.”

“She sells fresh pee to Carly, who’s on probation and subject to random testing. She takes clean pee to every appointment to pass her drug tests.”

I knew Carly by reputation as a neighborhood drunk, and I knew it would be bad news for her to be hanging around here. “Let me guess, you put a bag of pee in your pocket and no one notices?”

“Sometimes you have your Dorothy in the cornfield moments.” Mac shook her head at me in disbelief.

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

“You’re so ungrateful after I saved you from that long-legged Amazon.” Mac held up her skirt, admiring her legs.

Who ties their flip-flops around their ankles? I snapped my fingers. “Educate me about clean pee.”

“Miss J pees in a bucket. Carly has already stopped at the gas station, bought a small energy bottle and washed it out, turns out it’s the exact number of ounces you need. Give it a quick nuke and secure it in your underwear to keep it warm. Fresh is a cheaper buy than synthetic, which you can get online but costs fifty dollars.”

“I’m so glad I don’t do drugs. What if you get caught?” I grabbed my water bottle off the seat and finished it off.

“Carly violates her probation, gets arrested, and gets extra jail time.”

“What happens to Miss January if stupid Carly rolls on her for leniency or just because she’s having a bad day?” I asked.

“The sheriff will issue an arrest warrant. Most likely gets probation because she doesn’t have a record.” Mac pulled a chewed piece of gum out of her pocket. “I can’t shoot and chew at the same time and I wasn’t done yet.”

I bit my lip and looked down. Laughing would only encourage her. “Does Miss January need the money?”

“Told Shirl she always wants a cigarette in her mouth; calms her nerves. She had to cut back when the prices sky-rocketed.”

“That’s great, and when she’s drunk and one of them falls out of her mouth and sets her muumuu on fire, then what? Carly’s banned from the property. I’ll deliver the message.” I made a mental note to talk to that dumb drunk. A threatening conversation might save me bail money.

“Carly used to buy it from her mother, but when dear old mom raised her prices she looked for a cheaper alternative. Once she eliminated her drug-addicted friends, her choices were slim.”

I couldn’t imagine asking Mother to provide clean pee so I could pass a drug test. Much to Mother’s relief, I’m sure, neither Brad nor I took a liking to drugs.

“You know how I’m always doing nice things for you, showing up to work on time, that kind of thing?” Mac asked.

“Yes. Now what do you want? Before you ask, I reserve the right to say no.”

“Can Shirl stay as a regular?” Mac blurted. “She had movers lined up for the weekend but her ex, Ronnie, went over to the new place and started a fight with the landlord and he rented the unit to someone else. Besides, she likes it here. She can pay. Her nursing skills have already come in handy. The other night when Miss J passed out on the porch, Shirl knew she wasn’t dead.”

Hmm…a nurse!

Shirl kicked the office door open but caught the knob before it hit the wall. “Did you ask her?” She looked at Mac.

“There is one other thing,” Mac continued. “When Shirl moved out, she stored her boxes in the ex’s garage with his permission and now he won’t give them back. Says he’s going through them and what he can’t sell, he’ll give away. Maybe you and Fab could retrieve them?” 

Wait until Fab heard about this job, I thought. “Allowing you to move in violates my no-more-f-time-renter rule, but I’ll make an exception as long as you follow the rules.”

“What rules?” Mac looked suspicious.

“No drugs, second time the sheriff pays you a visit, you move with no whining. No sex in the pool. You stop paying and I’ll have you forcibly moved out.”

“The sex part sounds fun, but I can follow those rules.” Shirl stuck out her knuckles. “I called the sheriff on Ronnie about my boxes, and they questioned him. He lied and said I took everything with me. He opened the garage and told them everything in there belonged to him,” Shirl said.

“Text me Ronnie’s address; make room for a delivery at your cottage.” I reached for the doorknob. “We have two half-dead people who live here; if you’d keep an eye out, I’d appreciate it. See you two later.”

“Can I call for bail money?” Shirl giggled.

“If you can pay me back.” I stopped at my front bumper and took a couple of pics with my phone, and then went around the back and did the same. Wait until Brick sees the damage.

* * *

I blew through the doors of Famosa Motors, and when Bitsy looked up, her “I love everyone” smile disappeared. The caged look in her eyes told me she knew her business deal blew up in her overly made-up face.

“Your double-crossing greed is the reason the Hummer’s all smashed up.” I crossed to the reception desk.

“Get away from me,” Bitsy scrambled for her purse and pulled out a gun.

“You’re not your usual friendly self,” I leaned across the desk, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and yanked her off her chair, which rolled out from under her. She dropped her gun and it slid under the filing cabinet. Bitsy jerked against the hold I had on her, and I was left clutching a wig.

“Give that back,” Bitsy yelled, swiping at the hairpiece and coming up with air.

I twirled around the mess of fake blond hair and flung it at her, wiping my hands on my skirt. “You think you’re going to get away with selling bad information? Watch your back.” I walked to the staircase.

“You bitch,” Bitsy screeched.

“You better talk some sense into your friend Mango or you’re both going to end up hurt or worse.” I raced up the stairs.

Brick sat in his chair, feet up on the desk. “I didn’t hear gun shots, I suppose that’s good.”

I ignored his mocking smile. “I have bad news and I need a favor.”

“You’re ballsy, Red.” Brick’s feet hit the floor. “What the hell now? Bad news first!”

“The back end of the Hummer is all smashed in courtesy of your dancer, Mango. You might check to see if she has insurance. You want me to file a police report? I have witnesses.”

“Mango’s easily excitable; she just needs a firm hand. I’ll take care of everything. Since when did you start pissing off my strippers?” Brick looked me up and down.

“A case didn’t go to her liking.” I pulled my hair off my neck, repositioning the clip. “Two favors: I got my insurance check for the Tahoe. Make me a deal on an SUV. Or since the Hummer’s old and has been in an accident, fix it and discount it to where I can afford the payments. Do you finance?” I smiled.

“Do you have one breath of appreciation for the fact they are no longer manufactured, making it a collectible?”

Proud of myself that I didn’t roll my eyes, I said, “Yes, I do.” In my opinion, that sounded sincere.

“The damn vehicle is becoming a headache; my sniveling nephew is still whining that he wants the Hummer. You let me know what kind of car you want and I’ll hook you up on a good deal. In the interim, choose a car from the rental side and get the keys from Bitsy.”

“That was too easy. How about a boat ride over to Fisher?” 

“Did you see the sign out front —Luxury autos, not a boat on the lot?” Brick stared me down. “I know what the two of you are up to; you’ll get arrested sneaking over there on a boat. I’ll hook you up with a pass; drive on and sneak around, or whatever you two do. Once you get on the island no one will bother you.”

“You’re the best.” I jumped up, momentarily thinking about giving him a hug. “How soon can we get the passes?”

Brick leaned back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. “You remember that the next time I call.” He wagged his finger. “Stop by tomorrow and I’ll have a car ready. It will have an electronic box that will get you past security. Ernesto in service will have the key.”

I fingered the candy bowl on his desk, helping myself to two chocolate bars. “I’ll take a bottle of cold water.”

Brick had a small refrigerator that held soda, water, and his favorite chilled vodka.

“Nothing happens to Bitsy. You get her and your crazy girlfriend to kiss and make up.” Brick’s cell phone rang; he picked it up and waved me off.

The side lot had limited choices. I slid behind the wheel of an Escalade. It looked exactly like Zach’s, only newer. I asked once if I could drive his and he laughed.