Madison Westin 02-Deception in Paradise by Deborah Brown Page B

I heard the last one wouldn’t rep you for littering.” Harder laughed. “Where were you the night of the murder?”
    “Like I said, contact Cruz.” Harder was talking about Tucker Davis. He’d been my lawyer very briefly, and things didn’t end to his satisfaction. Tucker was probably sorry he didn’t think about framing me.
    “I figured your alibi would be your criminal girlfriend. How is Fabiana Merceau?”
    My phone rang, and I jumped for it, the interruption timely.
    “This is Cruz. Let me speak to Harder.”
    “Here you go.” I handed Harder the phone. Harder scared me. I was sure he tormented insects for his own amusement.
    “Figures she had you on speed dial,” Harder said with a half-smile. Cruz must have said something funny because Harder laughed. “You graduated at the top of your class. You know I can take her in and hold her until you show up.”
    I held my breath. I could hear Cruz’s voice, but couldn’t make out the words.
    “When you show up tomorrow, have the boat with you.” Harder paused. “Cruz wants to coach you.” He handed me my phone.
    “Answer only yes or no,” Cruz said. “Is the boat there?”
    “No.”
    “Okay, I’ll make him get a subpoena, and you should prepare yourself for the fact he’ll get a search warrant for your house. I told him we’d meet with him tomorrow afternoon. Is that convenient?”
    “Yes.”
    “See you tomorrow. You can shut the door in his face.” Cruz hung up, laughing.
    I looked at Harder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I stepped back to shut the door.
    “One more thing.” He put his hand on the door. “Where’s Jackson Devereaux?”
    “I don’t know. He wasn’t here when I woke up this morning.” Technically, I was telling the truth.
    “Have him call me.” He handed me his business card. “If he doesn’t, I’ll have him tracked down.”
    “Okay.” I shut the door and breathed a sigh of relief.
    I walked into the living room and picked up Jazz. He looked at me like, “What?” I hugged him until he meowed, then I laid him back down so he could go back to sleep. I wanted to lie down with him, but I was in total pace mode.
    “Now what?” I said when the doorbell rang. It rang three more times before I could get to the door. “Whoever it is, you’re really annoying me.”
    I opened the door, and my brother was standing there. “Hi, Brad. I didn’t know you were back. How was the fishing?” I moved to hug him, but he stepped back.
    My brother had sun-bleached hair and a dark tan from the long hours he spent on his commercial fishing boat. He liked to say, “From my boat to your dinner plate.”
    He glared at me, his face full of anger. “Where the hell is he? Why would you let fucking Dickhead use my boat?”
    I had seen my brother mad before, but never at me. “I didn’t.”
    “You think I’m stupid? The keys, where it was stored, all takes knowledge. If not you, then who?” He walked inside, slamming the door.
    “He figured it out by himself.”
    “That dumb bastard is not that smart.”
    “Would you stop yelling? I’m not deaf.”
    “The boat was not yours to loan.”
    “Let me say this slowly. I did not loan him the boat.”
    “I got a call that Dickhead was racing around at night, no running lights on, and hit a mile marker. The best part involves a dead fisherman.”
    “I don’t know what happened out there that night. The dead guy’s name is Pavel Klaus, and I didn’t know him either.”
    “What in the hell is the matter with you? You’re awfully calm.”
    “I’ve been living this for a couple of days. Lower your voice or get out. I’m tired of being interrogated. I don’t have any answers for you.”
    A loud thud against the front door brought our yelling to a halt.
    “What was that?” Brad opened the door, and Jax fell in the entryway.
    Jax lay there battered, bruised, his nose bleeding, clearly on the losing end of a nasty fight.
    “What the hell happened?” I asked.
    “Help me get him