Murder in Paradise (Paradise Series) by Deborah Brown Page A

she thought she were in trouble with the police.
    Before I saw Zach, his voice boomed up the stairs and I groaned. His presence meant trouble. Coming down the stairs, I saw Creole hadn’t left. He sat by Mother at the island, and they looked like such a united pair that it made me want to scream. Zach stood at the sink pouring coffee into his travel mug.
    “What’s new?” I stared at Zach.
    “Looking for Fab, and your Mother assures me she’s not here and hasn’t been here.” Zach flashed me his superior smile.
    I fought to stay calm. “That sounds like you wouldn’t take my word.” 
    “I think you’d end up in a jail cell next to her if you thought you could help,” Zach snorted. “If you’d listened to me when I told you she’d make a poor friend, you wouldn’t be having cops sitting outside your house.” 
    “What proof do you have that she committed any crime?” I asked. “And if she were here, would you arrest her?”
    “We have her on video tape running from the Wright residence,” Zach said.
    “I thought all the tapes were missing,” I said.
    “Unprofessional of you to share information from a crime scene,” he said, sneering at Creole.
    Creole shoved his stool back and pulled up to his full six foot four stature, almost eye level with Zach.
    Mother jumped up. “More coffee, anyone?”
    To look at the testosterone stare-down, you wouldn’t know that they had been childhood friends. I knew it annoyed Zach that Creole came and went from my house with increasing regularity.
    “I’m sure you’ll share anything you find out with Miami P.D., Detective Harder has been assigned to this case,” Creole told him.
    “I’ll make a note,” Zach said. “What’s your interest? I thought you consorted with drug dealers all day.”
    “I have a personal interest,” Creole smiled. “And what’s yours?”
    “The Wrights are clients of AZL,” Zach said evenly. “We will retrieve the stolen art and jewelry.” He turned to me. “Who are you anyway? Have you decided that stealing property and leaving behind two dead people is somehow romantic? That bother you any? You believe in Fab so much, and her innocence, then you need to tell her to come forward and turn herself into the police.”
    The doorbell rang, which meant more trouble. I raced to the door before anyone could move. “Kevin, what’s up?” From the look on his face, he’d drawn the short straw.
    “Here to speak to Fab,” Kevin said, not quite making eye contact.
    I opened the door wide. “Come on in, look around.” Kevin walked into the kitchen. I grabbed my purse off the bench and scooted out the door. I cleared the driveway when Creole came running out the front door shaking his head. Two seconds later, my phone rang. The screen said “Mother,” but my guess was that Creole would be on the phone. I pushed “ignore” and threw my phone on the passenger seat.
    Looking in the mirror, I noticed Officer Johnson sitting on my bumper; guess he didn’t know tailgating is illegal. I stuck to the speed limit, making a quick turn to drive along the beach. I needed to channel my inner Fab and figure out her hiding place. I led Johnson straight to The Cottages. I pulled up in front of the office; he skirted the lawn, which annoyed me. Who rolls their tires on someone else’s green grass? 
    Hiring Mac turned out to be a stress reliever. Head phones on, she gyrated in the barbeque area to her latest workout routine, Zumba.
    Mac whirled around and waved. “I see Mr. No Personality is back.” She pointed to Johnson. “FYI, he stopped by earlier looking for Fab. I told him he could look around as long as he didn’t touch anything.”
    I pulled my phone out of my pocket. Brick would help Fab and so might his brother Casio, if there were something in it for him. “Are you using your own phone?” Brick barked. “I don’t know anything.” He clicked off.
    I didn’t get a chance to hang up before my phone started ringing.
    “Hi,