Crazy in Paradise (3 page)

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Authors: Deborah Brown

BOOK: Crazy in Paradise
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“You were a better mother than we sometimes deserved,” I said. “You stepped up when dad died, and filled the void, being both mother and father.”

Brad put his arm around Mother. “Don’t get all teary-eyed.”

“Since I’m first,” Mother began, “my news is that I’m moving to South Miami to be near the both of you. Brad is already here, and I was sure you would stay, Madison. The reason I stayed in Miami for the last few days was to finalize the paperwork on a house I bought in Coral Gables. It’ll be ready to move into in about three weeks.”

“Wow.” I exhaled, realizing I’d been holding my breath.

“I’m returning to South Carolina in the morning to pack. When I get back we’ll be a family again, close enough to get together for dinners and holidays,” she finished.

“That’s a great idea,” I said. “I love that we’ll be living close to one another.”

“I agree with Madison,” Brad said.

“I’ll go last,” I said. “You’re up next Brad.”

“I can’t top Mother. I live the farthest away, but it’s only an hour’s drive to the Everglades. Come and visit me a few times and you’ll love it as much as I do.”

“You need to be on top of your game with Tucker Davis,” Brad said to me. “When you meet with him, be clear with what you expect. He works for you. He came across as manipulative, and nothing gets done unless it’s his idea.” He finished off his beer, signaling the waiter for another one. “Now that you’re going to be living here, I want you both to promise to come to The Glades and hunt alligators,” he smiled, as we rolled our eyes.

“Mother,” he continued, “anything you need to make your move go smoothly, just call Madison,” he laughed at me. “She can take care of everything.”

“You’re not funny. Mother knows she can call anytime. I’m not the one joyriding out in the Gulf.”

“That’s work. From my boat to your dinner plate.”

“Stop you two.” Mother turned to me. “Your turn.”

“Wait, who’s the blonde?” Brad asked.

I ignored him. “Now that Elizabeth’s house is mine, I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I promise to care for it and love it as much as Elizabeth did. I’ve lots of decisions to make, and I plan to take my time. Mother, could you add my boxes on the back of your moving truck? That will save me a trip back. Jazz is here with me.”

“How’d he like the trip?” Brad asked.

“I had to get him a kitty tranquilizer. Otherwise, he would’ve howled the entire flight. He likes the house, more room for him to roam around.”

“Madison,” Mother began, looking at me closely. “I’ve watched you carefully over the last couple of days; you’ve changed in many ways. We’ve a lot of catching up to do.”

Where was this conversation going? Brad was smiling at me; a ‘you’re in trouble now’ look on his face.

“I think you’ve been holding out on your dear mother,” she continued. “When I get back, we’ll have a girl lunch. I look forward to catching up,” she smiled.

“Mother,” I said. “Of course, I’ve changed. I was married for five years, now I’m divorced and starting over again. Now a lot more changes are on the way as Elizabeth left me a lot of responsibility, and I want to show her that this faith in me wasn’t misguided. What I need from you is to balance being a mother with being a friend.” I picked the sand dollars and starfish out of the centerpiece and made piles on the table.

“You’re paying for that mess,” Mother scolded.

“I’ll put them back.”

“When did you get so direct?” Mother asked.

“Less confusion with direct. Lets people know exactly where you stand and how much you’re willing to put up with.”

“You’re going to need to use your new attitude in dealing with that attorney of yours,” Brad said.

I rolled my eyes at my brother. “I can do this.” It had been a long time since I made all of my own decisions. I was going to show my mother, brother, and myself that I could do it.

“Mother,” I mouthed to Brad. I wanted him to understand if Mother was going to go into over protective mode, I would reroute her in his direction.

Brad laughed and shook his head.

“Are we ready to adjourn this family meeting?” Mother asked.

“Not quite yet. What did you find out about the blonde?” Brad asked.

“Her name’s Julie,” I told him. “Her son Liam is ten years old and mature for his age. Talking to him was like talking to an adult. She’s single, and no mention of a boyfriend. She lives at The Cottages, does voices for cartoons, and Liam told me she dances at night. She did a couple of cartoon voices for me, and Liam had a few voices of his own to show off.”

“Great info, sis.”

“I enjoyed the conversation. I liked her and her son. If you get involved with her, she’s a package deal, complete with a child. Are you grown-up enough for that?”

“Next time I visit, we’ll go to The Cottages and you can introduce me,” he winked.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight, Mother?” I asked.

“I’m driving back to Miami. I have an early flight in the morning and the airport is a lot closer.”

“When you’re settled in your new house we’ll throw a family party and invite new friends,” I suggested.

“Let’s toast,” Brad said. “To new beginnings here in South Florida.”

We raised our glasses.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

I drove up to my aunt’s house, stopped the car for a moment and stared at what was now my new home. My brother and I spent every summer of our childhood here. I always loved this place; it’s filled with happy memories.

The house is located down a side road, off the main highway, in the outskirts of Tarpon Cove. It’s a two-story Key West-style home, with gingerbread trim and a large porch wrapping around the entire perimeter of the second story. I pulled my Tahoe in the driveway, opened the gate, and pulled into the courtyard, which could easily hold two cars.

I walked around the back, and through the pool area, which had always been my favorite part of the house. I used to sit outside under an umbrella and read, and then dive into the cool water whenever the spirit moved me. I looked forward to doing just that on a regular basis.

I walked across the patio area and came to an abrupt stop. An exceedingly good-looking man appeared to be asleep in one of the chaise lounges.

“Excuse me!” I called.
Wow, he’s good looking
.

He opened his eyes and slowly looked me up and down. They were a deep indigo color and he had jet-black hair.

“Who are you?” I asked, though honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep him.

“I’m a friend of Elizabeth’s.”

At this point, anyone could say they had been her friend.

“Zach Lazarro. Surely she mentioned me?” He showed some teeth, which he probably thought passed for a smile. “She talked a lot about you, Madison.”

Aunt Elizabeth, I thought, you held out on me in a big way. You never mentioned this hunk of hotness. I noticed blood seeping through his shirt from the shoulder area. “Why are you bleeding?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“A band aid or two and I’ll be on my way.”

“I’m calling 911.”

“No, don’t. Please don’t call. There’ll be lots of questions I don’t want to answer.”

“You’re not dying on my patio.”

“I promise,” he smirked.

“I’m either calling a doctor or 911. Your choice.” I was probably overreacting, but I wasn’t going to take the chance.

“I’ll leave.” He tried to stand up, sucked in his breath, pain etched on his face, and he quickly sat back down.

“Leaving isn’t one of your choices,” I told him.

“You’re a tough one, just like Elizabeth.”

I rummaged around in my purse and found my cell phone. “Well?”

“Call Doc Rivers over on Beach Road. Tell him you’re calling for Anthony.”

I dialed 411 and the operator was in the process of connecting me. I swiveled the phone away from my mouth and looked at my patient. “I thought you said your name was Zach?” I questioned.

“Anthony Zach Lazarro, Ma’am,” he smiled.

Good God he’s handsome, and big, bad, tough guy was written all over him. Just the kind of man you’re not supposed to be attracted to
.

“I said ‘hello’,” said a voice in my ear.

I swiveled the phone back to my mouth. “Is this Doc Rivers?”

“Yes and I already told you that. Who’s this?”

Doc Rivers sounded crotchety and as though he were two hundred years old. “My name is Madison Westin. I’m with Anthony Lazarro and he’s here on my patio bleeding.”

“What happened to him?” Doc Rivers asked.

“He wants to know what happened,” I asked Zach…or Anthony…or whatever his name was.

“Gunshot wound.” It was clear, by the way he said it, that it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot.

I sat down hard in the chair behind me. “Gunshot wound,” I repeated. I knew I should have called 911.

“Stupid boy,” he growled. “Where’re you located, sister?”

“3 Cove Road. Do you need directions?” I noticed Zach grinning at me.

“That’s Liz Hart’s house. Why didn’t you just say so?” He hung up.

I stared at the phone and shook my head. “I don’t think he liked me asking if he needed directions.”

“Doc Rivers has lived in The Cove his entire life. All the old timers still go to him even though he says he’s retired.”

“He called her ‘Liz’,” I said. “I never heard anyone call my aunt ‘Liz’ before.”

He winked. “I think they were very friendly. He’s going to like you. He doesn’t show how he feels at first, but he warms up.”

“Gunshot wound? Is this the reason you didn’t want to go the hospital because you knew it would be reported to the police?”

“I came here because I knew Elizabeth would help me. Where is she anyway?”

“She died on Sunday. I just came from her funeral,” I said matter-of-factly, not in the mood for sympathy.

Zach’s face fell. “What the heck happened? I just saw her two weeks ago and she was fine.”

“Heart attack. She passed away in her sleep.”

“I’m a private investigator. I’ve been out of town working on a case and haven’t stayed in touch with anyone.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Elizabeth and I were good friends. I’ll miss her.”

“Stay here while I get the first aid kit and some towels to stop the bleeding.” Let’s hope this wasn’t going to be one of those choices that would come back to haunt me, I thought as I walked into the house.

 

* * *

 

“Sit up a little,” I instructed when I returned and then sat with half of my butt on the edge of the chaise. “Should I cut your shirt off or do you think you can pull it over your head?”

Zach groaned as he sat up. “Go ahead and cut it off.”

I cut his shirt straight up the front, around the sleeve, and pulled it off. I pressed a towel against his shoulder to stop the bleeding. You could tell he worked out, broad shoulders and six-pack abs.

He was grinding his teeth, sweat running down his forehead.

“How about some whiskey?”

“Doc will torture me with something when he gets here,” he said, with clenched jaw.

Just then, the side gate opened and through it walked a tall man with a slender build and an amazing head of white hair. He was carrying a doctor’s bag and looked every inch the Southern gentleman.

I crossed the patio to introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Madison. Anthony is over here.”
So, he and Elizabeth had something going on, she was certainly a woman with secrets
.

“What in the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, boy?” Doc asked.

“Thanks for coming, Doc,” Zach mumbled.

“Don’t thank me. If it wasn’t for your mother, your arm could fall off for all I care.” Doc Rivers pulled a patio chair over and sat down, then reached into his bag and pulled out a hypodermic needle.

“I don’t need the shot,” Zach said. “Take the bullet out, clean the wound, and I’ll leave.”

“Who’s the Doctor here?” Doc asked as he rubbed an alcohol pad on Zach’s beautiful, buff upper arm. “You aren’t telling me how to do my job, are you?” He stuck the needle in Zach’s arm.

Zach yelped in pain. “That fucking hurt!”

“Good.” Doc laughed at him.

Zach fell back against the lounger, looking worn out. I realized that I was sitting on the chaise with him, on the side opposite from where Doc Rivers was taking care of things. I didn’t remember doing that, but there I was, sitting with half my butt on the seat again, holding Zach’s hand tightly.

Doc punched his arm.

“Oww!” Zach yelled at Doc Rivers.

Doc looked over at me. “He’s fine. I gave him a painkiller. Soon he won’t feel a thing.” The doctor showed such impressive skills in removing the bullet and bandaging his arm so quickly that I wondered if he made these kinds of house calls regularly.

“I’ll be right back,” Doc said, walking inside to clean up.

“Are you okay?” I asked Zach.

“You can let go,” he smiled. “I’m not going to die on your patio.” He shook his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Amazing grip.”

What a great smile, all those beautiful white teeth. I reached out, and brushed his black hair out of his eyes, without even knowing I was going to.

“He needs two to three days rest. Keep the bandages clean and dry,” Doc said as he walked back onto the patio. “I’m prescribing some antibiotics,” he instructed me. “And I’ll give you the prescription for a painkiller, although he’ll resist taking them. Tough guy syndrome. His shoulder will be damn sore, but he’ll survive.”

Doc reached into his bag and pulled out another hypodermic needle. “You’ll never get him to take any medication. He’s too hard-headed.”

“No,” Zach whispered. “I don’t want the shot.”

“Too bad,” Doc said, giving him a shot in the arm. “At least you’ll get one dose of antibiotics and you should sleep through the night relatively pain free. This one’s mostly for the missy here. You’ll be easier to manage on drugs.”

“Listen up Anthony,” the old doctor continued. “Promise me you’ll stay here for a couple of days to recuperate or I’ll call your mother and she can nurse you.”

“Elizabeth isn’t here.” Zach pointed out.

“I just came from her funeral. Never saw such a spectacle,” he laughed. “I told that Dickie guy I’d speak. There were a few others who knew Liz, who would have gotten up and said a few words.” Doc shook his head. “Instead, he chooses a couple of drunks.”

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