Read Online Greed in Paradise (Paradise Series) by Deborah Brown - Free Book Online

up and do me a favor. Find out when Ivers’ will and testament will be read?”
    “Favor means you would owe me.” I pictured him clenching his jaw. “Why would I know anything about the Ivers estate?”
    “Creole says you know or can find out. Is he full of it or not?” Harder demanded.
    I almost squealed as Fab knocked over a cone, jumped the curb, and cut around the back of a pawn shop. “Me and your favorite criminal are on our way to the reading now.”
    Fab slugged me on the shoulder.
    “Ow!” I pointed to the street for her to pay attention.
    “Do you have me on speaker?” He sounded irritated. “Now I owe Creole five bucks; I bet him you only did that sneaky ass trick on him. Heads up, though, Creole’s not happy with you.”
    I sighed. “What now?”
    “Not long after you and your friend left Key West without the Mercedes, a gunfight broke out. The Swan brothers screwed another dealer and bullets flew when they went to retrieve their illegal product. Happy ending, they’re all in jail, three of them are still in the hospital, but the downside is that it looks like they’ll live.”
    “Fab and I were there to pick up the lawfully-registered owner’s car.” I shook my head at Fab. “Why us?” I mouthed.
    “Where is Doug?” Harder asked. “He’s nowhere to be found and we’d like to have a friendly sit down with him.”
    “We don’t know and don’t care. Doug will never be a client in the future.” I changed the subject, asking, “Why not call your pal, Tucker Davis, about Ivers’ will?”
    “Tucker took exception to the fact I didn’t like being screwed on one of his business deals. I obviously can’t make the reading. Listen up; I want to know who’s there. Who’s acting weird? If you’re going you must be mentioned in the will, so ask for a copy, you’re entitled.”
    Fab rounded the corner fast, making me rock in my seat. She had stuck to the back streets, getting ahead of construction, having to U-turn and double back a few blocks, but at least we’d almost be on time.
    “And I get what?” I asked.
    “Satisfaction for doing something nice,” Harder said, and chuckled.
    “That’s not enough. Does this have anything to do with Ivers’ autopsy?”
    “You know I can’t discuss an open case. Get me what I want and I’ll be nice to you sometime.” Harder hung up.
    “You do realize he said open case? That means Ivers’ death might not have been natural,” Fab said.
     
    * * *
     
    Tucker Davis, scurvy attorney-at-law, had taken an old cottage-style house—a corner lot located just after you breezed past the welcome-to-town sign—and turned it into office space. The outside had been the recipient of a fresh coat of yellow paint. Personally, I liked the previous blue color. My favorite addition was the old wooden rowboat that held his sign. I’d like to stage an intervention for the boat and drag it home and display it in my front yard, junking the sign.
    Fab pulled into the small parking lot, and, unable to maneuver the SUV into the last space, parked on the lawn. She caught me rolling my eyes.
    “Try and behave yourself,” Fab said, as she shook her finger at me.
    “We’ll see who pulls their gun first.” I smirked.
    The front door chimed when opened. That was new and it made me wonder if someone had snuck in besides me. The ultra-modern interior didn’t fit the charm of the outside. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Ann standing at the reception desk so I helped myself to a fistful of candy from the coffee table. Arms across her chest and a scowl on her face, she glared as I dropped my loot into my purse. “You’re late,” she said. She tapped her watch as her dark eyes bore into us.
    “Two minutes is not late,” Fab told her, baring her teeth.
    Ann wouldn’t mess with Fab since her reputation as an unstable wild card preceded her; most people didn’t know the hype was exaggerated, unless provoked. She stepped back and opened the door