Read Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise Online
Authors: Deborah Brown
Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Humor - Florida
I eyed him suspiciously when he came through the door after picking the lock. I once offered him a key and he'd laughed. He was dressed for a day off. His hair was slightly damp, and he wore shorts and tennis shoes. I ogled his long, tan legs before making eye contact.
He lounged against the doorway, arms crossed, and a sinful glint in his eye. “What are you up to?”
I backed up behind the island. “
I
don’t like your insinuation,” I frowned.
He slid slowly toward me, knowing that whichever way he faked, I
’
d go that direction.
He crooked his finger. “Come over here, Babe.”
“After you tell me why you were checking out the SUV.”
“Your friend blew by me at a signal. I thought perhaps she might have a dead body to dump. You want to fill me in?”
“I
’
m going to catch you, you know,” Creole teased as he went left.
I went right and laughed. “
I
don’t know anything. You
’
ll have to ask Fab.”
I jumped when the front door opened.
“Why is this door unlocked?” came Mother's voice.
Creole
’
s arm wrapped around me.
“Caught you,” he whispered in my ear.
Mother entered the kitchen with an unhappy expression on her face, Spoon right behind her; both had shopping bags loaded with food containers in their hands. Mother boasted of her home cooking, but in reality she was the connoisseur of to-go food. She served the food on pretty dishes and threw the containers in the trash.
“It
’
s his fault.” I looked up at Creole. “He was the last person in.”
“Why do you look surprised to see us?” Spoon asked me, then peered at Mother. “Did someone forget to mention that she planned a party at your house?”
“Party?” I didn’t bother to hide my confusion.
“You don’t
mind
, do
you
?
” Mother hugged me.
My family had an open invitation to flop at my house anytime they chose. “Of course not,” I kissed her cheek.
The door opened again and Didier entered, travel bag in hand. He said an all-inclusive “
Hello
” and scanned the kitchen for Fab. Fab squealed from the staircase, and Didier tossed his bag aside and swung her around into a hug. I was the only one to notice her wince.
Brad and his family popped in through the front door. Liam brought up the rear with dessert boxes from the bakery, as always. Liam had long ago been assigned the job of getting dessert, and he did a good job always choosing both a long-time favorite and something new to try.
I turned in Creole
’
s arms.
“You know, if you had gone all caveman after breaking and entering––thrown me over your shoulder and slipped out the back, we could be at your house doing naughty things.”
Creole nudged me in the back and motioned in Fab
’
s direction. She had left Didier upstairs and returned by herself, showing no signs of trauma. She looked her usual put-together self again, in black knee-length shorts and strappy sandals.
I intercepted her and linked my arm through hers. I nudged her through the French doors to a secluded spot on the far side of the pool. A favorite when you didn’t want anyone overhearing. With an unimpeded view, you could see anyone approach and have time for a quick change of topic if needed.
“I need coffee,” Fab whined.
“Then tell me what happened and make it quick.” I gripped her arm and she winced. “
You can’t
hide that you
’
re injured from Didier. Look at me! Tell him yourself.”
“I fell at the lighthouse.” She looked away.
“What the hell did you do that you can’t tell him the truth?” I shook my head. “And me. Your younger, more attractive sister.”
It made me smile to see her smile. She had no come back, though. I wanted to hug her and reassure her that she
’
d be feeling better soon.
“Remember my corporate client? Turns out the information I gave him implicated the VP and his assistant. He wasn’t satisfied with knowing who betrayed him to the competition and almost bankrupted his company. Now he wants to know why.”
“Why don’t you have him ask when he confronts the two of them? Or confront them separately and see which one decides to save their neck first.”
Creole stood in the doorway, arms crossed like a bouncer. He kept a watchful eye on Fab and me as he monitored the activity going on inside the house.
“My client didn’t confront either one. He must have a legal background, told me he doesn’t want to ask any questions he doesn’t know the answers to in advance. That
’
s where I come in.”
“You broke in again?” I yanked on the ends of her hair. “You snuck out in the middle of the night and didn’t take me?”
“You made it clear you were averse to driving the getaway car for felonies. Before you go off on a tirade, you
’
re right. It
’
s my case; I should be the one to risk jail. Besides, I
’
d need you for bail and jail visits.”
“Maybe I could have talked some sense into you.”
“When do I ever listen?”
I hugged her gently.
“I hired Phil to dig around in the thieves’ backgrounds. All she came up with were rumors of money problems and a gambling addiction regarding the VP. The assistant? Who knows, possibly love or money and she made a ton; her lover paid her well. My client wanted documented proof.”
“Move along to the good part.”
“You don’t sound very sympathetic,” she pouted.
I imitated Creole and growled at her.
“Last night I drove out to Plum Island and broke into his mansion. Unfortunately for me, he and the Mrs. came home early from a charity function, brawling. They were calling each other interesting names, back and forth, questioning about their parentage. I got caught off guard and had no time to make my getaway without being discovered. I wedged myself under a wooden ladder used for the top shelves of the bookcase.”
“You should
’
ve called. What if something bad happened and no one knew where you were?”
“And get us both arrested? Believe me, I thought about it, but I couldn’t come up with a Plan B,” Fab said.
“How did you get out? Hurry up before we get interrupted.”
Brad had taken control of the outdoor kitchen, setting up for all of us to eat and drink outside. The impromptu party had now been officially moved outside.
“Coffee,” Fab groaned. “I can smell it, or I
’
m hallucinating.” She noticed my irritation and continued, “I didn’t think they
’
d ever stop fighting. I had to wait until they went upstairs and it took a damn long time before all was quiet. I hoisted myself out the window, lost my footing on the sill. I fell about five feet, landing on my back; the bushes broke my fall.”
“Why not go out the same door you picked the lock on?”
“They brought the dogs in the house. Two big ones. They didn’t seem to be particularly scary, but I was just afraid if they heard me or caught a glimpse, they
’
d start barking.”
“I
’
m not giving you any more good advice, only to have you ignore it. Just so you know, Creole asked questions. It seems as though you blew by him on the highway.”
“Can you keep him quiet?” she asked.
I shook my head. She always thought she could manipulate the alpha males in our lives, and I hadn’t seen any evidence it had worked.
“I
’
m happy you
’
re back, even in one slightly-blemished piece.” I peeked over her shoulder. “Didier is headed this way. Good luck.”
I kissed Didier
’s cheek and welcomed him home.
Skirting around the pool, I headed straight for Creole
’
s open arms. I congratulated myself for not running and drawing rude comments.
“You two looked intense,” Creole commented, his blue eyes scanning my face.
I ignored his unasked questions. Since I hadn’t been with Fab, I didn’t feel compelled to share. I knew she
’
d see it as a betrayal. “What
’
s the plan?”
“Early barbecue. Everyone has evening plans. Including us.”
“You never said anything, so I made other plans.” I smiled sweetly.
“A date or something?” His lips tightened.
“Not a date, more like something…,” I said. I scooted out of his reach, turning my head to smile.
“You
’
re not going,” he yelled as I disappeared into the living room.
Chapter 29
I rolled to my side of the bed, enjoying the sight of Creole
’
s bedhead and deep blue eyes devouring me in a wolfish way. We
’
d actually slept in––a rare occurrence, since we often woke up when the sunshine streamed in through the windows.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I
’
m checking out my legs. Do you think it
’
s time for a pedicure?” I held my foot out for inspection.
“I like the hot pink toes.” He ran his hand up and down my leg. “Why are your legs always so soft and smooth?”
“The hair doesn’t grow back anymore––they
’
re afraid. I used to wax, and I
’
d hear them scream, 'owie!' when I jerked them out by the roots.”
Creole scrunched his nose. No waxing in his future.
“You haven’t said a word about Fab
’
s new business. Has she gotten a client yet?”
Uh-oh! Did he know something, or was this just casual conversation?
“You know, she stays busy,” I said. That sounded evasive, so I inwardly groaned and changed to a less dodgy response. “She did get a new account, a corporate account. She
’
s keeping it separate from the legal car-boosting we do.”
“Did you go along with her?” His tone was casual, but the detective didn’t fool me. Right now he was in good-cop mode, but I knew he could hop back and forth between good and bad cop in a heartbeat.
He turned over on his back, pushing up against the headboard, tucking his hands behind his head.
“You know I like to hear about everything you do.”
I made it a rule to never lie to him. Somehow he got me to include no vague story-telling in that promise. I rolled off the bed on the opposite side.
“I’ll make coffee,” I said as I scurried off in the direction of the kitchen.
“If you run out the door, don’t forget your shoes. I’ll track you down. You
’
ll be the only naked woman running down the side of the road.” He gave an evil little laugh.
I sighed, happy I had my back to him, because my cheeks blazed with heat. The thought of him in hot pursuit made my knees weak. I loved our little games of chase. He
’
d catch me and scoop me into his arms.
While waiting for the coffee to brew, I grabbed his t-shirt off the chair. Slipping it over my head, I went out to the patio and cleaned off the table. The view over the Gulf of Mexico was spectacular any time of day, any kind of weather.