Read Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise Online

Authors: Deborah Brown

Tags: #Mystery: Cozy - Humor - Florida

Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (29 page)

BOOK: Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise
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My turn!

“Look only at me,” Fab called. “Do not look down.”

This wasn’t fair. She wasn’t afraid of heights; the higher it was, the more she could show off. She told me before we met that she

d learned to scale buildings. Fab felt comfortable jumping off roofs, always landing on her feet.

I tossed down both bags, rubbed my clammy hands on my pants and listened to her precise instructions. I crawled along the ragged cement, thankful I ditched my usual skirt. Before panic could set in, I made it to the steps.
      

Once I got to the bottom, there would be a five-foot jump. Another chance to fall into the water, hit my head, or break my leg. If I were really lucky––all three. I took a deep breath and forced my brain to go blank. I channeled my inner Fab which felt like a cheap copy at the moment. In place––now the jump.

“You can do this,” Fab
encouraged
.
“Don’t close your eyes. Take a breath and land right here.” She made an ‘X

with her foot.

I stepped off and landed close to the spot, on my feet, then I fell on my butt.

Fab gave me a hand up. “Sometimes you surprise me,” she laughed quietly. “Come on.”

We ran along the deck, which ended at a vacant parking lot. Thankfully it had a full set of stairs to get us back to street level and completely out of sight of the warehouse. Once we made it out, there was no car lurking nearby to haul us back. We cut across an open field, running over a short bridge that would take us back to civilization.

“How far is that grocery store?” Fab asked, walking down the sidewalk, checking out the occasional car that went by.

“I

m guessing about a mile. Should we call a cab? What if someone sees us?”

“No one knows we

ve escaped yet. We can walk it in the time it would take to make the call, and get the car out here.” She looped her arm through mine. “Watch where you

re going and walk fast.”

Turned out the grocery store was closer than I estimated. Upon entering the lot, I spotted the Famosa Motors vanity plate attached to a small SUV that was parked off to the side.

Fab retrieved the keys from under the wheel well. I took my assigned seat on the passenger side.

“We barge in on Dickie and Raul and then dump this car at Spoon

s with a return-to-owner note,
’”
I said.

Fab picked up her phone and punched in a number.

“It

s me,” she said.

No speaker phones on cheap throw-aways. Maybe if I scooted closer, I might catch a stray word or two.

“How soon can you get a plain-looking car with tinted windows, nothing illegal? And a box of phones. Soon means the next couple of hours.” She paused, then continued, “Arrange a drop-off away from prying eyes. After tomorrow morning, this phone won’t work anymore,” she said with a laugh. “Later.”

She threw the phone on the console.


Gunz?
” I asked. If he came through, I might actually have to be nice to him.

“He

ll do it and keep his mouth shut. No one will be asking him any questions, because he

s nowhere to be found unless he wants it that way.”

“I

ve got some calls to make before Creole finds that out we blew the warehouse. I think I’ll wait until early tomorrow morning.”

Now that we were free to be killed by drug dealers, or maybe by Creole, guilt set in. We should have made an effort to cooperate. I should have anyway. Damn, I disliked these nerve-wracking adventures. More guilt.

Fab snapped her fingers. “Where did you go?”

I shrugged and ignored her question. How would Didier react?

“Hopefully, we can score the guest apartment,” Fab said. She tapped the steering wheel in annoyance but stuck to the speed limit, not wanting to attract attention. “They keep it rented to college exchange students. If you can overlook the fact that you

re at a funeral home with an assortment of dead people, they give five-star service.”

Poor thing, she’s lost her mind.
 

  

Chapter 35

 

Midnight loomed by the time we drove into the empty parking lot of Tropical Slumber Funeral Home. Through multiple remodels, all traces of its original incarnation as a drive-thru hot dog stand had disappeared. Fab drove around the back to where the living quarters had its own private entrance.

“The crematorium is over there.” She pointed to a recently constructed large concrete building. “Over there is a six-car garage and workshop that Raul had built. They used to park the hearse and business car out front, but they kept getting vandalized, the hearse being the favorite target. Now everything gets parked in the garage. I had a friend who owed me a favor, came out to upgrade their security system.”


You softie.

I smiled at her.

Not long after we triggered the outside flood lights, the inside lights went on as well.

Fab knocked on the door. “Raul, it

s Fab.”

Raul opened the door in just a pair of jeans. His jet black hair stuck up on end, his shirtlessness showing off six-pack abs.

He put a finger to his lips and waved us in.

“Dickie and the dogs are asleep. They

re terrible guard dogs, but they make up for it with a mean game of Frisbee.”

Raul ushered us into the entryway, decorated with ornate furniture, brocade fabrics, plastic slip covers, and gilded accessories.

“We need a place to stay.” Fab hugged him. “But first I should tell you, although we didn’t commit any crimes, the sheriff will probably be looking for us.”

He raised the shutter and scanned the driveway.

“Do you have suitcases?” He opened the drawer of a small writing desk and extracted a pair of keys, handing them to Fab. “The apartment is empty.  We haven’t made arrangements to rent it anytime soon.”

He stepped outside and unlocked a second door, which led to a hallway of stairs that went to the second floor.

“There

s also a back exit. This key will work for both,” he informed us.

I ran back to the SUV, grabbed our backpacks, and followed behind. The apartment turned out to be a nice open space, with a living room, a kitchen, and comfortable bamboo furniture in tropical colors. It had a bit of a Hawaiian feel. A short hallway led to several closed doors. Unlike our last hideout, this one was white-glove clean, not a speck of dust.

“You stay here,” Fab said to me. “I’ll dump the SUV at Spoon

s and be right back.”

“You

re not going anywhere by yourself,” I scowled. “How are you going to get back? It

s too far in the dark. You
’ll get mugged.

Raul spoke up. “Tell me where to pick you up and I’ll be waiting.”

Fab blew out the door, Raul hot on her heels, before I could come up with another objection. It surprised me that he took us in with no questions asked. I knew they were friends, but apparently Raul trusted Fab not to bring trouble down on his head. It would be hard to explain to most people that, although law enforcement would be looking for us, we hadn’t committed a crime. Even I wouldn’t believe that story.

Distracting myself, I explored the rest of the apartment. I discovered two large bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. Both had king-size beds piled with pillows, the rooms decorated like high-end hotel suites. I dumped our bags in the green bedroom. It had a natural feel, and I loved the chaise by the window. Each room had sliding doors shaded with shutters. I slid them open to find that they both had access to a shared deck. The view was not spectacular, but it would suit our purposes; we could observe the street and see the comings and goings from the parking lot.

My next stop was the kitchen. I took inventory of the cupboards, coming up with my favorite bottled water. No coffee for the morning, but we

d remedy that. Stopping at our favorite café for breakfast would be a bad idea, since any number of people would recognize us. I couldn’t wait to suggest a gas station for our morning brew and a donut.

The leather couch looked comfortable, so I made myself at home, turning on the wide-screen television. I laughed at my choice of over two hundred channels. I stopped on the shopping channel and muted the sound, making a mental list of those I needed to call before sending the phone to a watery grave. We

d have to limit our calls and continuously change up the phones.

* * *

I began to get impatient, but I was too tired to pace the floor. I maintained a vigil staring at the door. Worry was a useless emotion, but I indulged anyway. If Fab got caught, she

d never let Creole take her alive. I wallowed in my melodramatic thoughts. He couldn’t possibly have found us out yet. Could he?

Interestingly, I didn’t hear the car pull in the driveway but heard the lock turn at the bottom of the stairs. Instead of a grand entrance––throwing open the door and shouting, “Ta-da!” Fab jumped her way up the steps. There would be no sliding down the banister here––too small.

“Gunz called,” she said, closing the door and turning the deadbolt. “One auto returned, no drama, waved to the security camera. Gunz chose a late-model Chevy Malibu, gassed and awaiting my arrival in the visitors parking at the hospital.” She tossed me a set of keys. “Just in case.”

“Do we have a plan?”  I asked.

“We will by morning. Let

s get a couple hours of sleep.”

“We

re in the green bedroom,” I told her, turning off the lights. “I

m not sleeping by myself. Think slumber party.”
 

  

Chapter 36

 

Fab got behind the wheel of the midnight blue sedan and scrunched down, her head just clearing the steering wheel.


Call Creole,
” she advised. “Let him be mad. One less thing to have regrets about.”

“After this call, I’ll give you the pleasure of running this phone over.” I winked at Fab, knowing her love of driving over irritating electronics.

“Voicemail,” I whispered. I had to admit, I was happy for the reprieve. “It

s me. I

m okay. Thinking about you.”

Less than a minute later, I almost dropped the phone when it rang in my hand.

“Where in the hell are you?” Creole hissed.


We haven’t gone far. We’
re tracking down a lead.”

“Tell me what it is and I’ll
do it,
” he demanded.

Judging by the noise in the background, he

d thrown something and it had shattered.

I winced and nibbled on my lower lip.

“I’ll come back if you promise to let us stay and help with this investigation and not seclude us somewhere.”

He was silent for so long that I knew he couldn’t promise me anything. At least he didn’t
lie.

“Come back and we

ll talk about it.”

“I’ll stay in touch.”

“Don’t
hang up,
” he barked. “Tell me about this lead. Anything to do with your ex?”

BOOK: Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise
5.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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