Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (23 page)

Precious bounced down the stairs barefoot, meeting the driver. They stood at the Corvette and talked. He handed her a clipboard, she signed something and ran around to the driver’s side, dropping out of sight. A minute later, she jumped back up and nodded in the man
’
s direction.

“This is an interesting turn of events,” I said.

“What the hell is she up to?” Fab seethed.

The driver backed down the street, parking at the end. Precious jumped behind the wheel of the Corvette and pulled it up to the flatbed. She got out, patted the hood and blew it a kiss. It didn’t take long for the car to be loaded and secured.  As the flatbed rolled away, Precious waved and went back to her house.

“At least the truck won’t be hard to follow,” Fab said.

Chapter 27

Two hours later, after following the Corvette up the turnpike, the truck turned off on the causeway, north of Miami. Fab was in pure frustration mode, mostly because she had to follow the speed limit. At least I had something to look at as we drove over the flickering blue-green waters of Biscayne Bay.

“You'd better hope this guy turns off before we reach the ferry to Fisher Island, or this trip was for nothing,” I said.

The island is private; the rich paid big money to mingle with those of their financial status. No one can step foot on the ferry without proper identification and a place to go. Uninvited lookers aren’t allowed. Other private islands dot one side of the causeway, though most only have a sign as a deterrent.

Fab hit the steering wheel. “Now what?” The truck passed the last exit before the causeway ended at the open water. The choices were now down to the ferry or a U-turn.

I picked up my phone. “
Is Brick in?
” My tone was brusque, as I was not in the mood for polite chit-chat with Bitsy.

“He
’s out. I’ll
tell him your rude ass called.” S
he hung up.

“
She doesn’t
like me.” I faked a sad face. “Brick can get us onto the island. We
’
ll have to come back tomorrow.”

“What are the chances we
’
re going to find the 1960
’
s Vette sitting in someone
’
s driveway?”

“I
’
m telling you now, breaking into every garage is not on the list of options.” I stared at her until she reluctantly nodded her head in agreement. “Why would someone let her hide what is basically a stolen car on their multi-million dollar property? What
’
s in it for them?”

“This is a great story to get rid of Gunz. We won’t mention that we have connections to get a pass for the island. Agreed?”

I flashed her a weak smile. The hairs on the back of my neck told me that getting rid of that bald bastard wouldn’t be easy.
      

* * *

It surprised me when Fab pulled up to the docks and parked. I thought we were headed home until she passed the turn. She mentioned updating Gunz, but I thought she
’
d do it on her own in their new office. Some unfortunate fellow had taken the job of ridding the lighthouse of the noxious odor. To my surprise, he did a pretty good job.

“Are we hanging out in the parking lot, or does Gunz have a boat slip here?” I asked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gunz lumbering down the sidewalk, and I pointed my chin in his direction. He glanced from side to side, as though expecting someone to jump out from behind the neatly stacked crates.

I silently chastised myself for not staying in the SUV and minding my own business. It was Fab‘s fault. I had to follow behind and stand close enough to hear every word, since she skimped on details in the retelling of anything.

Gunz scanned the parking lot. “Where the fuck is my car?” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

“Precious got rid of your car already. It
’
s out on Fisher Island somewhere,” Fab told him.

He continued to yell. “Why in the hell do you think I hired you? You get your skinny ass out there and get it back.”

“Hey,” I interrupted. “Lower your voice. Fab
’
s not hard of hearing.”

“Mind your own business, you scrawny bitch,” he snarled in frustration.

Gunz isn’t a man used to having anything he utters questioned. His menacing tone made me want to step back, but I forced myself to stand my ground and not puke.

He looked at Fab. “Why are you even seen with her? She
’
s not in your league.”

“Your girlfriend wired the door of your car to blow up. Before I could get to it, a flatbed transported it to the island. Go get it yourself. I
’
m not getting blown up for you,” Fab said evenly.

Gunz’
s meaty hand shot out to grasp Fab
’
s arm, digging his fingers into her skin.

“Step back or you
’
re dead.” I whipped out my Glock, aiming at the center of his chest, tempted to lower the aim to his minuscule friend.

Gunz turned at the sound of me cocking my weapon. “Nobody threatens me,” he growled as he dropped his hands.

Fab jumped between him and me, hand on his chest. “Calm down and listen to me.” She gave me a ‘
don’t shoot’
look over her shoulder. “Put your gun away.”

She was always grouching at me to shoot to kill. Now, when I was finally in the mood, she sucked the fun out of the show down. I compromised and lowered my gun to my side.

Fab explained to him everything she
’d done.

I smiled my approval when she added a few details that she hadn’t done, but it only made the re-telling of the story better. I
’
d have to tell Mother her tutoring was paying off.

Gunz shook his head back and forth like a bobble head doll the whole time she talked. His face was bright red. He didn’t want to hear anything that stood between him and his auto.

“You know where it is, so go get the damn car. I know you can do it. Bring it back in one piece. She
’
s a stripper; you can outsmart her,” he said.

“Are you hard of hearing? She
’
s not going!” I yelled. I hadn’t realized we had attracted attention; two fishermen leaned against the railing, watching the show. “You
’
ve got two choices, and neither one includes her services. Get it yourself or call the cops.”

“If you know what
’
s good for you, Bitch, you
’
ll shut up.” He took a step forward.

I raised my Glock. “I know. Call someone else and don’t tell them it
’
s wired to explode. While the sheriff is scooping up what
’
s left with a teaspoon, I’ll spread it all over town that you
’
re the one to blame.”

“Get her out of here,” Gunz blasted at Fab.

Spoon materialized out of nowhere. “Is there a problem here?” He glared at Gunz. They nodded at one another.

Translation: They knew one another, but weren’t friendly.

“Yes there is,” I said, exchanging dirty looks with Gunz.

“Shut your mouth,” Gunz roared.

Spoon slammed his hand into Gunz
’s
chest, stopping his forward movement. “Apologize,” he ordered. “D
on’t
ever speak to her like that again. What
’
s the problem here?”

Gunz mumbled something unintelligible.

Fab gave me the evil eye, and I ignored her and gave Spoon the details.

“Car
’
s sweet. Always liked it. You want to sell?” Spoon asked Gunz.

“I want it back,” Gunz grumbled.

“You find out who
’
s harboring your car, and I’ll retrieve it. Got a couple of flatbeds of my own. My boys will pick it up and dump it off anywhere you want. Use your manly prowess on Miss Ivory, and maybe she
’
ll cooperate.”

I laughed at the sex comment. All eyes turned and glared at me.

“Of course, you would owe me.”
Spoon grinned.
“One more thing. These two are no longer available for the job. Are you listening, Fabiana?”

Fab ignored him.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

I sighed in relief when she nodded.

“I can call you as soon as I get the address?” Gunz asked.

Spoon nodded his head in the affirmative, extracting a card out of his pocket and handing it over.

“One more thing. These two,” he pointed to me and Fab, “they
’
re both under my protection. Nothing better happen to either one of them––ever. Just to be clear, I’ll kill you myself, and it won’t be quick.”

I
’
d seen his creepy smile before. Not only did it send shivers up my spine, it unnerved me and made me happy it wasn’t directed at me.
 

Chapter 28

I stood at the kitchen sink watering the plants in the garden window, enjoying my ritual of morning coffee. It surprised me to see Fab pull into the driveway since, when I passed her bedroom door earlier, she had the
Do Not Disturb
ribbon tied around the handle. She thought she deserved privacy with Didier though, if the situation was reversed, she
’
d bang on my door and scream from the hallway. That's why Creole and I snuck off to his beachfront hideaway as much as we could.

I grabbed my ringing phone off the island counter. “You could just come in the house.”

“Is Didier home?” Fab asked in an almost-whisper.

“Not unless he
’
s sneaking around like apparently you are.”

The line went dead at the same time that her driver
’
s side door opened. Fab got out, coming around the front and dragging herself up the driveway. Fab was not looking her usual sexy self. She looked disheveled, her hair clumpy on one side. It had me wondering how the other person looked.

She peeked into the kitchen. “I need a favor.”

“Is that grass in your hair?”

“You
’
re not to say one word to Didier. Promise
me.
”

“Not a word, unless asked by Creole. And on the condition that you give up every single juicy detail.”

Fab let out a short breath. She labored under the misconception that she could best Creole at not getting caught sneaking around, and I hated to remind her in her weakened state that it hadn’t happened yet.

“
Didier’
s due home any minute. Stall him. I just need enough time to take a shower.”

I watched her move slowly up the stairs. I could picture the reunion. Didier would take one look at her, frown, and they
’
d be arguing in French as he hustled her into their bedroom to wring the details out of her. I wondered if he ever got tired of squeezing the slow truth out of his girlfriend. I thought not, because Fab told me once he had creative ways of getting her to open up. She'd smiled as she said it, so his ways must be enjoyable.

Creole pulled up behind the Hummer, blocking it with his super-sized pickup truck. Good thing I didn’t have a sneaky getaway scheduled for today. He put his face up to the heavily tinted windows of the SUV, first back, then front. Any coincidence that he showed up right behind Fab?