Bodies in Paradise by Deborah Brown

Bodies in Paradise by Deborah Brown

Author:Deborah Brown [Brown, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-18T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty

“First stop, Milton Track’s house. I want to verify that this is a good address before handing it to his boss.” Fab turned onto a palm tree-lined street in South Beach, several blocks from the water and adjacent to a heavily trafficked road. She cruised slowly past a rundown mustard-yellow house with banana trees growing rampant around the entry. She circled the block and turned down the alley. Coming back to the front, she parked in the only available space, ignoring the sign that clearly stated, “Permit parking only.”

“It’s unfortunate that the house has been neglected,” I said.

“It’s a three-plex.”

I scooted up and looked again. “It’s hard to believe that there’s million-dollar real estate a few blocks over.”

“Xander was able to forward me great pictures. Inside the arch are three doors. Milton lives in number three, which backs up to the parking lot of the apartment building next door.” She pointed to the left.

“I’ve got a pretty good idea what you’re doing, but since you weren’t forthcoming with details, I’ve got nothing for you.” I eyed her with raised eyebrows. “You’re here for more than address verification. Scaring the pee-dawdle out of him isn’t illegal. Just remember to stop before crossing that line—the one where you get arrested.”

“That’s why, Ms. Bail Money, you’re going to stay in the car, and should I need it, you’ll snap your fingers and have me out of the joint pronto.”

“Don’t think so.” I reached behind the seat and grabbed a tote I hadn’t dug around in in a while but knew would produce a trick or two. I pulled out a handful of pamphlets and waved them at her. “If your plan is to squeeze a confession out of Milty… here’s a freebie to get him to open the door. Although I doubt he’d confess unless you were pointing firepower at him, and I wouldn’t recommend that course of action. As for me, I’ll be in the background, ready to dispense a commiserating smile if you get hauled off.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“This is another of those Pot situations. Before you start an argument that won’t result in a winner, you might want to hustle your bum to the door before Milt heads out to work.” I tapped my wrist. We both got out, and I followed her up the cracked concrete pathway. “I’m going to try one more time—forget about Milton and hand over what you’ve collected to boss dude. He can check Milton’s personnel record should he need an address. That brings the case to a close. On your part anyway.”

Fab ignored me as she hustled to the door and knocked politely. I hung back in the archway.

The door cracked open, and Milton (I presumed) stuck his head out. Apparently liking what he saw, he opened the door wide, and the smell of weed wafted out. “Come on in, babe.” The skinny shirtless fifty-something was wearing a matted brown toupee that he was attempting to get to stick on the top of his head.



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