Trouble in Paradise (4 page)

“Just an email. Told him my mom was available, and sent her
picture in case he forgot what she looked like.”

“Does Julie know?” Hopefully, she’d never find out. “You’ve
got to stop now.”

“He just emailed back, he’s married. He should wear a ring.
We had such a great time, and I thought he acted interested. Don’t tell Kevin.”
Kevin is his sheriff uncle; a straight arrow.

“Did you like the Glades?” I moved to the edge of the pool
and stuck my feet in the water.

“Way cool. We’re going back for the airboat ride. We stopped
at the alligator farms on the way back.” The airboats had a distinctive ear
splitting sound, powered by automobile engines that propel the boats through
the murky waters of alligator alley.

I’d been to that farm and wasn’t enamored with alligators; I
never understood the, ‘don’t pet the alligator’ signs. ‘Stay away from them’
was my motto.  I didn’t like them in person, food, or shoes. The Glades creeped
me out; the tall grasses, super-sized bugs, most of them with cousins that fly,
and reptiles that feed on humans. Not to mention a person could scream back in
there and no one would hear. No thank you.

“How about my brother, Brad? He doesn’t fit into any of your
categories but he’s a nice guy and available. He lacks the cachet of being a
Native American but he’s pretty cool and he lives in the Glades.”

“Why’s he available?”

I splashed him with water. “There’s nothing wrong with him.
But like your mom, he needs help finding a girlfriend.”

“I need to interview him.”

“You can’t take my word that he’s a catch?” I said, slightly
offended. “We’ll never get these two out on a date if they find out they’re in
for a fix up. If you need an interview, I suggest you call your potential
grandmother and enlist her help; she loves to ambush her children with
potential mates. My brother’s pretty normal. The wild card in the family is my
mother, Madeline. She’s the one you want to interview before green lighting
this dinner.”

“I’d like a grandmother. I only have a grandfather and he
lives out in California, so I only see him during summer vacation.”

“Talk to Mother. You’ll like her. She might teach you how to
smoke one of her Cubans.” I stood, shaking my skirt that got wet from kicking my
feet in the water. “I’m going to stop at Joseph’s.”

“How freaking cool is that?” Liam pretended to smoke an
invisible cigar. “He’s out with his girlfriend. Did you know he hooked up with
his first grade teacher?”

“Girlfriend? She must be old.” Joseph was one of my aunt’s
first tenants. A Viet Nam war veteran with health problems, he had a ‘screw
you’ attitude when doctors told him he was on borrowed time.

Liam laughed. “She’s a hundred years old, bossy and tells
him what to do. Joseph was way more fun before her. She got mad when she caught
him teaching me how to blow spit.”

“That spit blowing thing is a useful skill.” Okay, so I
never blew spit but I could blow my gum across a busy highway.

“I’m going to preapprove Brad, just because I’ll get an aunt
out of this.”

“Wait until my mother meets you. She’ll be planning a
shotgun wedding.” I held my hand out, palm up, and wriggled my fingers. Liam
handed me his phone and I dialed the number without even looking. “Mother, I
found you a grandchild. I’m going to put Liam Cory on, and you two can scheme
how to get Brad and his mother, Julie, together.”

“Is she nice?” Mother asked.

“You remember the hot blonde at Elizabeth’s funeral?” I
didn’t wait for an answer, handed Liam the phone, and waved good-bye.

No doubt in my mind, Mother would like Liam and they’d be
scheming together in half a minute. Grover sat by the back door of the SUV,
patiently waiting to go for another ride.

Mac came around the side of the building, letting out a loud
whistle. “This is for you!” she yelled, holding up an envelope, catching up
with me.

“What’s this for?” I did a double take; the envelope was
stuffed with one-hundred dollar bills.

“Creole came by and paid his rent a year in advance. I told
him to get a money order and he laughed in my face.” Mac tossed her brown hair
and the girls followed. “Refused to take the money back and told me to take it
up with Boss Lady which, I’m sure, is you. He a drug dealer?”

“Mark his unit paid and I’ll deposit this into the cottage
account. Tell him if the police come around one time asking for him, he moves,
no whining and no refund.” That would make him laugh since, as an undercover
officer, they might haul him away but he’d never see booking. My aunt had
rented him a cottage with the knowledge that it would be used as an undercover
pad. Her friends were my friends and I honored her IOUs.

“Why are the ones that drip sex a big bag of trouble?” asked
Mac.

“Here’s my tip: Don’t date anyone better looking than you,
and then you don’t have to fight over the mirror.”

Mac squinted at me and laughed. “There’s one more thing.”

I held out my hand. “Another envelope of cash?”

“They’re crazy.” Mac downed her energy drink and crushed the
can flat in one stomp.

The last group of guests had all been snowbirds from Canada
and they left. They came for the sunshine while back at their homes the ground
was frozen solid. Our newest ones had only checked in a day or two ago. That
left the regulars and crazy meant I could draw straws. “Could you be more
specific? Start at the beginning.”

“The Shiners.”

I groaned. “What now?” Kibble and Barbie Shiner, a redneck
blond Barbie doll and her whale-sized husband, were a slick couple who’d
overstayed their welcome.

“Barbie started a bar fight last night at Custer’s and then
slipped out the back. It didn’t take long before the bar scum showed up here
and a fight erupted in the driveway. The sheriffs had to break it up.”

Custer’s is a rat hole bar, in a prime location on Gulf
Boulevard that only sold screw top beer and wine. Higher powers worked against
Custer getting a full liquor license, and then the county stepped in and banned
him from serving food several years back. He could never get the necessary
permits to gut the kitchen.

“Did we get lucky and the sheriffs arrest both her and Kibble?”
I asked.

“They disappeared thirty seconds before the law arrived.
Barbie snuck around Cottage Eight and out of sight with her girlfriend Angie in
tow. Kibble hid out behind the tiki bar in the pool area.”

“At least the Shiners will be out of here this weekend.”
They were a good example of why we needed to be more discerning to whom we
rented weekly.

“Not exactly. I gave them the wrong agreement, and had them
sign the long-term one by mistake. Since they’ve been here for a month and are
current on payments, we have to give them a thirty-day notice.” Mac’s words
came out in a rush.

“How long have you known this gem?”

“For a while. I begged every higher power not to have to
tell you. My plan was that I’d get really lucky and they’d move.”

“Post the notice.” It annoyed me that Mac’s sixth sense of
ferreting out lowlifes had failed her on these two. “I’ll go talk to them.”

Mac sighed. “Kibble and I had a chat. He informed me if we
tried to evict him he’d tear the place apart. Those two are crafty and we should
do this by the book. They have a baby,” she blurted.

“As in child? Where did they get it?”

“They didn’t think it important to tell me Barbie popped out
Kibble Jr. six months ago. He’s a good baby. I only found out the other day
when Angie had him outside putting him in his stroller. She’s got a big mouth,
babbling about stuff that no one wants to hear.”

Grover was done chasing bugs, so he came up and laid his
head on my foot.

“When are you going to find Grover a home?” Mac asked.

“Look at him. Does he look like he wants to go anywhere,
except for another ride around town?” I rubbed his back. “The Shiners are
moving. I’ll have one of Spoon’s felons serve the notice.”

Jimmy Spoon and Mother were friendly. I couldn’t bring
myself to use the word ‘dating.’ Spoon spent time in prison and when he got out
with the help of a mentor, he turned his life around. Now he returned the favor
by staffing his appointment-only auto body shop with recently paroled felons. I
wasn’t sure his business was one hundred percent legit and never asked.
Ignorance had its perks. All his employees looked the same: big, mean looking
and of few words. None, if any, had visible signs of a sense of humor. Not even
Kibble was stupid enough to mess with any of them.

“Other than the Shiners, it’s all quiet around here.” Mac
looked nervous. “At least Joseph hasn’t been arrested lately.”

“I would be the first person to know that, since I’m
Joseph’s free call for a ride home from the jail.” All his arrests were drunk
related and confirmed his inability to stay out of trouble long enough to get
off probation. On occasion, I took him to probation appointments and court
hearings. Joseph had the best connections for information on Cove residents.

“This morning I helped Miss January into her cottage after I
found her laying on her porch passed out drunk.”

“You’re going soft.” Miss January was another inherited
tenant; a good-hearted harmless drunk who lived inside a vodka bottle, coming
out only to smoke cheap cigarettes. The doctor’s informed her that her
permanent checkout date had passed two years ago and yet she continued to
stumble through life.

“Here comes more trouble.” Mac pointed to the two sheriff’s
cars that zipped into the driveway. “They travel in packs now. Wait until you
meet Kevin’s new partner. He’s a real dickass.”

Kevin motioned me with his finger. “Hi, Kev. I hope this
isn’t an official call.” I stood face to face with the new guy.

“Officer Johnson,” he introduced himself. He didn’t extend
his hand, which suited my no hand shaking policy. “This is a courtesy call to
make sure there aren’t any more problems after last night’s disturbance.”

“All is quiet.” Terrible first impression, I disliked him
already, a tight-ass, stick up the butt look.

“This isn’t a social call. You need to get your tenants
under control. Nuisance calls are a waste of taxpayer’s money. If you can’t,
thanks to the voters, we have the option of taking you to court and force a
sale.” Johnson poked his finger at me twice.

“If you’re going to threaten me, I’ll need my lawyer
present.” I contemplated the satisfaction of jerking his finger in a twist but
the thought of jail provided the sanity I needed.

“No need for a lawyer,” Kevin intervened. “We have a new
captain and money’s scarce. He’s tightening the budget, and cutting wasteful
spending, such as chronic nuisance calls.”

“You’re here all the time, Kevin, visiting Julie. You know
the Shiners are a new problem. Mac and I are in the process of kicking them
down the drive. Believe me I want them gone as much as you do.”

“We’d like to look around,” Officer Johnson informed me.

“Let me call my lawyer,” I said. “I like to do things all
legal like.”

“Come on, let’s go,” Kevin said to his partner.
“Everything’s quiet.  Doesn’t look like anyone’s home around here.”

Officer Johnson glared at me and walked back to his patrol
car.

“Can’t you play nice with the new guy?” Kevin whispered when
Johnson was out of earshot.

“He sucks at first impressions.”

Kevin sniffed. “I drew the short straw when it came to
Johnson as my new partner. He doesn’t give a crap about getting along. He’s all
about the rules, has them memorized.  There’s no controlling him.  You’re
already on his bad side so expect another visit.”

“What did I do?”

Kevin shook his head. “You’re nice to every weirdo in town
and this one you can’t schmooze for five minutes.”

“I’ll just tell Spoon.”

“No you won’t,” Kevin warned.

“Oh calm down. Where’s your sense of humor?”

“Johnson gets on my nerves too; everyone’s avoiding me. No
free donuts at Kick’s gas station, thanks to him. Gotta go. Guess he’s going to
sit in the driveway until I leave. Say hi to my sis for me.”

“Thanks, Kevin.”

Before meeting up with Fab, I dropped Grover off at home. He
leaped to the ground from the SUV and ran around the back of the house. Even he
knew about the secret entrance. The drive from my house to The Bakery Café was
a short one. I pulled into a parking space in the front, where Fab had snagged
our favorite people-watching table on the sidewalk. Waiting for me was a
caramel latte and pecan roll. They had an incredible selection of baked goods
and pastries that were hard to ignore.

“Look at this.” Fab handed me a flyer with Grover’s picture.
“Says here he’s been missing from Pigeon Key for the last three months. Long
way from home.”

A tall, rail-thin older man approached our table. “Why did
you tear my flyer down?”

He definitely wasn’t one of the guys in the truck that day;
both of them had been considerably younger. “How did you lose your dog?” I
asked.

He brushed his gray hair out of his face. “That’s a long
story. Have you seen him? I’d appreciate any help; I’ve about given up hope.”

Fab and I exchanged looks as if to say ‘what now?’ “Have a
seat and tell us your long story,” I said.

He extended his hand. “Tolbert Rich.” 

Fab fist bumped him. “I’m Fab and this is Madison. Was he
tagged?”

“His tag only had his name, ‘Grover.’ I’d been meaning to
attach his new tag with the contact info and I didn’t. It’s still sitting on my
desk.”

“There’s a couple of dogs around here that look like the one
in the pic.” I stared at the photo. “Both of them have good homes. You’d have
to prove yours is better or I’m not helping.”

“I’m not sure what exactly happened to Grover, he would
never leave the property on his own. He just disappeared one day. I suspect my
neighbors are somehow involved. We’ve been having a dispute.”