Swindled in Paradise (22 page)

“What in the hell?” Creole’s voice boomed through the phone.

I wished I’d remembered to hold it away from my ear. I pulled it away and glared at it as though that would help. Didier took it from my fingers and spoke in French.

“Oh no you don’t!” I jerked it out of his hand. “On my phone, you speak English. What?” I barked at Creole.

“Hold on a minute,” Creole said. I guessed from the lack of sound coming through the receiver that he was getting his anger under control. “Let me guess…Fab broke into Balcazar’s offices, and you and Didier are lookouts?” Creole asked with fake calm.

“Yes, dear.”

Didier tugged on my hair and shook his head.

“Don’t think I won’t pay you back for my near-heart attack,” he grouched.

“If you forget, I’ll remind you.”

Creole cleared his throat. “How long has Fab been upstairs? Text her to take pictures. And you, text me as soon as she gets back in the car.”

I sent the text to Fab and hunched over the wheel, staring up. No lone figure scaling down the side of the building – that was a good sign.

I felt like I’d forgotten something. There wasn’t a checklist for this job, and I still needed to work on being patient while waiting. Surely Fab would’ve been back by now if there had been any cars in the underground parking lot. I scanned the building, but nothing had changed. The lobby was still well-lit and empty. Headlights caught my attention, and in the side mirror, I saw what looked suspiciously like a cop car roll up behind the SUV.

“Hang up,” I whispered, jerking my top over my head and leaning into Didier.

He quickly did so, then turned and looked out the back window. “What are you doing?”

“We’re going to put on a show of smoochy face without actually doing it.”

Didier put his arm around me, grabbing the back of my head. “Good thing you’re wearing a bra, or this would be more awkward than it is.”

I’d enjoyed my braless days, until someone sent a group photo and my girls were the only ones that looked droopy. The next day, I went to Mother’s favorite lingerie store and got measured for one that fit correctly. To my satisfaction, they now sat in the right place.

A light flashed into the driver’s side window, followed by knocking. A man’s voice called, “Roll down the window.”

I made a show of being startled, turned, and lowered the window. “Hi….” I did a double take. “Officer Watters. Nice to see you again.”
What were the chances of running into the same cop twice?

He shone his light in my face until I blinked, and then ran the beam down to my cleavage, where he lingered, and finally over to Didier.

“Miss Madison, aren’t you two a little old to be making out on the street?” Not waiting for an answer, he directed, “License and insurance. Of course you know that.”

“Nothing’s changed since last time.” I smiled sweetly as I handed him the documents.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’d hate to have to shoot you,” he chuckled.

His laugh unnerved me. While he returned to his car, several more police cars pulled up in front of Balcazar’s building. The officers filed out and went in separate directions, surrounding the area.

“Police,” I texted Fab, and lifted the top to the console glove box and hid it under a false bottom.

“I’m impressed,” Didier whispered. “How do you know him?”

I filled him in on the unfortunate traffic stop.

“He looks familiar, as though I’ve met him and can’t remember where…” Didier looked thoughtful.

“The last thing we want is for him to demand your identification. How would we explain being across from Balcazar’s office?”

Officer Watters came back, handing me back my identification. “Do you believe in coincidence? I don’t. And yet here we are once again.” The shuttered look on his face was unsettling. It was hard to tell if he believed the make-out story.

“Is there a problem?” I inclined my head toward the opposite side of the street, where the cops still milled around.

He ignored my question. “Have you seen anyone lurking around? Cars? Anything?”

“It’s been quiet, but then, we were mostly… um… engaged.” I hoped I didn’t sound as stupid as I felt.

“I’m going to be a nice guy and let you off with a warning. I could write you a ticket for parking in a time-restricted zone. You need to get over your bad habit of ignoring traffic signs. One fewer piece of clothing, and I could haul you in on a sex charge that would force you to register as a sex offender. Next time, get a hotel room. If you can afford a Hummer, a room shouldn’t be a problem.” He flashed his light one last time in Didier’s face.

A chill ran up my spine. He seemed to be enjoying himself. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

Once the window closed and the ignition caught, Didier said, “You need to careful of that man. He dislikes you with an intensity that surprises me, given you’ve only met him twice.”

“Maybe Creole talked to him.” I pulled out onto the deserted street. Well, deserted if you didn’t count the police cars.

“We can’t leave Fabiana here,” Didier said angrily, hauling himself around to look at the building.

“We don’t have any choice,” I hissed at him. “Officer Watters is following us. We’re going to the backup plan.”

“Do you even have one?” he snorted.

“Have a little faith. Fab wouldn’t want you to swoop in and do something chivalrous and get arrested. The last thing you need is for some cop to identify you and ask questions.” I cut him off before he could speak. “Give me a minute. I excel at what-to-do-next plans.”

With Watters on my bumper, I headed to the Z Hotel. I’d let him think I’d taken his suggestion. I’d never stayed at the five-star establishment, but I’d had lunch there a couple of times. I glanced quickly at Didier. “Call Creole and ask if it’s a good idea to double back to the building on foot.”

Watters made a U-turn right after I signaled that I was turning into the hotel parking lot. Not having the nerve to park, I bypassed the lot and pulled over on a side street.

I fished out my phone and texted Fab, “You okay?” I turned on the GPS, asking it to find the closest grocery store, and smiled when one popped up within a few blocks. We could park there, and no one would ask questions.

“He’s not answering.” Didier threw his phone on the dashboard. The back popped off and the battery fell out.

My phone beeped, and I handed it to Didier.

“It says, ‘Tell Didier not to do anything stupid. This might take a while but don’t worry—well hidden.’” Didier wrapped his fingers around it, holding tight. “What now?”

“We need to hang out where we won’t be noticed and wait for Fab’s call. A fast food joint would be ideal, but most aren’t twenty-four hours anymore, so I located a market.”

“How do you know this stuff?” he asked, seeming impressed.

“Your girlfriend taught me. Fab will call and tell us where to pick her up.” I turned onto the main boulevard and headed toward the big illuminated Food Barn sign.

My phone rang between Didier’s fingers—Creole’s ringtone. “You might as well answer it. Creole can calm your nerves.”

One thing about grocery shopping: whatever time you chose to do it, day or night, there were always other people pushing a cart. I slid backwards into a space from which it would easy to keep an eye on the entire lot. Out of good manners, and stressed over the creepy Officer Watters, I climbed over the seat while Didier and Creole conversed in English and French. I lay on my side and closed my eyes, willing Fab to call.

* * *

The ringing of my phone woke me from an uncomfortable snooze in a fetal position. The screen lit up, and Fab’s face beamed back at me. I sat up and glanced outside, and was surprised to see the beginnings of daylight streaming in the SUV windows. “How much is the bail?” I asked.

“I need a damn ride. Where are you?”

I could almost hear her foot tapping. “Your taxi awaits, if you don’t mind sharing with the annoying French guy I can’t get rid of.” I winked at him.

“Go north on Ocean. I’m on the beach side in front of The Shrimpery. Hurry the hell up. I’m calling Didier now.” She hung up.

Didier scowled at me. “I wanted to talk to her.”

I held up my index finger, my middle finger, and then his phone rang. For some reason, I’d thought I’d get to three. I got out, stood and stretched, then slid in behind the wheel. Glancing at the clock, I realized that it had been daylight for a half-hour and Fab had been trapped inside the building for hours.

I half-listened to the one-sided conversation going on next to me. Not that I could understand a word, but it was amusing listening to Didier’s voice change from sweet and sexy to grouchy and back. I waited for the conversation to heat back up and made kissy noises when it did. Didier glared at me, and I giggled.

When we turned onto Ocean Boulevard, Didier rolled down the window and stuck his head out. Never having picked Fab up from a job, he didn’t know she’d probably be jumping up and down in the street. This early, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting flattened by another car.

Reaching over, I tugged on the back of his shirt. He ducked back in, glowering at me, and his arched eyebrows seemed to yell, “What?”

“Fabiana doesn’t like it when passengers hang their heads out the window like oversized animals,” I managed to say with a straight face.

He stared at me and leaned forward, a loud barking growl erupting from his lips, then shoved his head back out into the wind.

No laugh?
I knitted my brows, chuckling slightly to myself.
Too early in the morning? Couldn’t be that I was too annoying… Could it?

“Who’s that?” Didier demanded, pointing up ahead.

He had to know that Fab, the man magnet, could attract anyone, from the oldsters to the twenty-year-old with the surfboard who stared hopefully at her now, just like all her conquests.

“I guess you have to be reminded that your girlfriend is a hot, sexy French woman and men can hope. But I happen to know there’s only one man she gets horizontal with,” I said with feigned innocence.

Didier clearly had a retort on the tip of his tongue and wrestled with whatever it was.

“Is horizontal unclear? I know more descriptive adjectives.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “The next time Fabiana complains about your attitude, I’m going to be more sympathetic.”

I clutched my heart and winked at him. Mission accomplished, he’d finally laughed. I pulled over to the curb. Fab said something to her new friend, who waved and sauntered down the sand.

Fab rushed to the passenger-side window, leaning in to kiss Didier. I pretended I didn’t notice and jumped out, giving them privacy. Fab came around the front, and I enveloped her in a hug. “You’re so amazing,” I whispered in her ear.

“I’m only allowing this display because if things were different, we both know there would be no touching during a jail visitation.”

“Don’t speed. That cop from the other day was outside the building earlier, giving us trouble.” I filled her in on the details.

That surprised her. “Hmmm… I don’t like that, not one bit. We’ll talk about this later.”

Chapter 31

Happy to be home, I grabbed Jazz and escaped upstairs to my comfortable bed. Looking in the mirror, I could see worry wreaking havoc on my face. I looked like I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a week.

The three of us had rocketed down the interstate to the Keys, making excellent time before rush-hour traffic started. The only thing Fab said was that Balcazar was doing a little late-night office cleaning, and she’d almost been discovered. Balcazar had snapped at the Miami police when they came up empty-handed, failing to capture the uninvited guest, and suggested they were slacking off on their jobs. Didier said the rest of the details could wait for Creole’s arrival.

I slipped between the cool cotton sheets and my eyes drifted closed, succumbing to sleep as soon as my head the pillow. It seemed like only a few minutes later that the bed dipped. Creole shifted next to me, and his arms tightened. I cocked one eye to make certain.

“Nap time,” he said, sleepily rubbing his face against my cheek.

“Hmm,” I cooed, wiggling against him.

* * *

The afternoon sun was beating through the bedroom window when my eyes fluttered open. Against my back, Creole radiated heat, and I felt the little puffs of his rhythmic breathing against my neck.

I arched into a stretch, trying not to disturb Creole’s sleep. His arm, curved around my waist, tightened. “Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured, flipping me onto his chest and wrapping his legs around mine.

I pressed my lips against his. “Let’s sneak out the back, go to your house, and turn off our phones.”

He raised his head and kissed me. He coaxed, seduced with his lips, his tongue, the murmur of his breath, his taste. His hand lightly slapped my bottom. “I need to debrief Fab. That stupid ribbon was on their door when I got here.” He chuckled in my ear.

I wriggled against him. “Five minutes,” I said throatily.

He rolled me onto my back. “I aim to please.”

* * *

An hour later, having heard Fab and Didier down at the pool through our bedroom window, we walked downstairs hand in hand in our bathing suits.

“About time,” Fab called from the kitchen island.

Creole sniffed the air. “I take it you’re not cooking.” He laughed at the dirty look she gave him.

I picked up Fab’s glass and took a taste. “I’ll have one of these.”

Didier nodded at his friend, handing him a beer, then retrieved a glass and poured me a sparkling water with a lime wedge.

Creole took a couple of steps into the living room to make a call. He turned back after a few minutes, “Food’s on its way.”

“Wait…you didn’t ask us what we wanted,” Fab griped.

“Fabiana!” Didier gave her the evil eye.

“You probably won’t like it.” Creole made a sad face. “But I happen to know there’s frozen waffles.”

I wanted to jump in front of Creole and protect him from the searing look Fab sent his way. I managed to remain neutral and reached for a tray, handing it to Fab. She and Didier filled it with assorted snack food; munchies should keep an argument from sparking.