Free Trouble in Paradise by Deborah Brown

my first job, I forgot to ask. I’m
supposed to bill Brick. How much would you charge?” We were far enough out of
town, I could slow down. No chance Fab would walk from the outskirts of The
Cove.
    “Brick would never call me with a chicken job like this.”
Fab snickered. “If he did, I’d bill him triple. My scale fluctuates, depending
on the customer’s net worth.” Fab stared at me. “I know that look. What are you
planning now?”
    “Whatever story I come up with as to how I found said ashes,
don’t contradict me.”
    “Why not the truth?” Fab asked.
    “It’s more complicated than the truth.”
    Fab shook her head. “I’ll be using that line in the
future.” 
    Too busy talking, I veered hard off the highway, damn near
missing the exit, braking hard before skidding onto the gravel road.
    “Brick knows someone that lives out here in the middle of
nowhere and in a shack?” Fab asked.
    “Wait until you see the inside. You’ll be impressed.”
    Before we got to the door, Watusi stood waiting. Wearing a lime
green ankle dress, an assortment of necklaces piled high, and rings on every
finger, she whispered, “Don’t forget your promise.”
    “We need to talk,” I whispered.
    Fab looked the kitchen over like she was casing it for a
return visit. “Nice job.”
    “This is my brother, Theodore,” Watusi introduced. “Be
patient with him he’s a little slow.”
    It was none other than Gunz, the flat tire changer. He
covered his lips with his finger and shook his head. “Nice to meet you,” he
said, sitting at the table across from the dead man.
    Kettle blew into the kitchen like a tropical windstorm in a
whirlwind of peacock blue. She must have borrowed Watusi’s bracelets which were
loaded up both arms. “What is that boney skank doing in my house?” She pointed
to Fab.
    “She’s with me.” My hair tingled on my neck, not a good
sign. “I found your mother’s ashes.” I pointed to the box on the kitchen
counter.
    “She screwed me out of money.” Kettle rushed towards Fab.
    I stepped in front of Kettle. “If you touch her, I’ll shoot
you.”
    “Moon pie sucker,” Fab mumbled behind my back.
    “You’re a sorry excuse for an investigator. You don’t even
carry a gun.” Kettle rolled her eyes.
    “What do you call this?” I pulled my Glock from my back
holster.
    Watusi jumped in front of Kettle. “Everyone breathe. Kettle
step back. No shooting and no name calling.” She shoved her sister. “You put
your gun away and neither of you better scare Theodore.”
    I caught the smirk on Gunz’s face. He tipped his chair back
against the wall, arms across his chest, clearly rooting for a hair pulling,
girl fight.
    “Which one of my half-kin had the ashes,” Kettle demanded.
“They’ll never steal from me again.”
    “I don’t know who it was. Whoever must’ve had second
thoughts, because the urn was dropped off at Tropical Slumber. I called to get
a description and Dickie told me the box had been left in one of the slumber
rooms.” I reholstered my gun.
    A look passed between Gunz and Fab. They knew one another.
    “This has been fun,” Fab said already half way out the door.
    “Try eating a whole sandwich!” Kettle yelled at Fab. “Send
your bill to Skinny Bitch, she owes me money!” she yelled at me. “She’s never
to set foot on my property again.”
    I hustled out the door after Fab, Watusi right behind me.
“I’ll lock the gates,” Watusi told Kettle.
    I reached for the passenger door handle, Fab had the engine
idling. Watusi came up behind me. “Who’s in the box?”
    “Your mother, not someone else. I found her at Mercy House.”
    Watusi handed me her business card. “I can do something
special for you.” The Happy Endings trailers turned out to be a massage
business.
    “How do you know Brick?” I asked.
    “He’s one of my special clients. He likes midnight massages
at his office. I like looking at the lights of the city while I work.”
    “Happy