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after an ugly breakup with her boyfriend. A highly respected registered nurse at Cove Hospital, she’d just been promoted and hadn’t been around much lately. She’d become the cottage nurse, and with her easy manner, the tenants and guests loved her. She too had been banned from ever moving out.
    “Call anytime.” I climbed into the Hummer and waved.
     

Chapter 7
    Carrying my heels in one hand, I descended the stairs and dumped my shoes in the entryway.
    Mother sat at the kitchen island smoking a cigar, Fab waving the smoke in the direction of the living room. She and Didier stood at the island, coffee in hand. The man knew how to rock a suit; he looked delicious in all black. Fab, also in all black, had on a short dress with cap sleeves.
    I pecked Didier’s cheek, reaching for a coffee mug. “Mornings wouldn’t be the same without your pretty face.” I smiled at him. “Get your own cell? The uniforms are ugly,” I scrunched my nose, “but they have matching shoes.”
    He smiled back at me. “I was in a holding cell, praying they wouldn’t call my name and order me into more permanent accommodation. Thank you for getting me the lawyer. Cruz says I’m a huge step up from your usual referrals. He’s damn good; he talked with me privately and then had me answer all the questions the detectives put to me. They released me with certain conditions, which I readily agreed to.”
    Fab hugged him. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep you out of jail.”
    “It’s times like these you find out what kind of friends you have—and I have the best.” Didier brushed her cheek with his lips.
    “He also can’t leave town.” Fab winked up at him.
    He looked at her with such love in his eyes that I had to look away. Just giving them some privacy, I told myself. “You know smoking is not allowed in my house.” I frowned at Mother and opened the side panels in the garden window.
    Mother ground out her hand-rolled Cuban in an ashtray that she must have brought with her. Her dark-brown eyes scowled at me. “Why did I have to hear from Spoon that Didier got arrested?”
    “Fab…” I turned to her and dropped onto a barstool.
    She glared at me, letting me know she didn’t appreciate being thrown under the bus. I tried not to laugh at her discomfort; she hated being on the hot seat with Mother. “Today’s the funeral for Lauren,” she told Mother. “I planned on stopping by afterwards to take you out for lunch and tell you all about it. It’s been a hectic couple of days.” Fab turned to me. “How come you’re dressed in black?”
    “I’m coming along. You need someone to schmooze with the mourners. You know you don’t do friendly.”
    “I can do friendly,” said Mother raising her hand. She’d obviously known all along about the funeral, as she was also dressed in black, her blond bob in place, eyes sparkling. She also knew that no one would be rude enough to tell her she couldn’t crash the funeral in the company of her daughter.
    Didier laughed and put his arm around Mother, giving her a hug. “I love all of you, but you need to stay out of this. My hotshot lawyer has hired an investigator.”
    Fab, hands on hips, rattled off something in French.
    “As usual, I don’t know what she said. Are you familiar with the phrase ‘fat chance’?” I asked Didier. “Friends help friends.”
    Fab huffed and tossed her hair. “I called Raul this morning and asked if he had any connections at that snotty funeral home in Miami, and he did. He’s going to call his friend and get us as much information as he can. Didier forbid me to break in and search the records myself.”
    I winked at her. “Good idea, though.”
    Fab and I had a good relationship with the owners of the local funeral home, Tropical Slumber. Dickie and Raul could always be depended on to sleuth out information from the coroner and their competition. Who knew funeral directors were a close-knit bunch?
    “You two need to stay out of trouble.”