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listening.”
    “I got part of it but I came downstairs too late to hear the
whole conversation.” Fab tossed a piece of bologna at Grover’s feet.
    I’d wondered what the meat was for when it appeared in the
refrigerator. 
    “Cece, at the title company, returned my call with property
owner info for Tolbert and his neighbor, Mr. Iver. I already called and
introduced myself.”
    Jazz meowed at Fab’s feet. She tossed him a piece of mystery
meat, he sniffed and walked away.
    “Intro’d as in lied to him? You’re going to hell.”
    “I feel comforted knowing we’ll be hanging together in the
afterlife.” I made a face at her. “Mr. Iver told me that a few months back he
rented to a Boyd Lincoln and his brother. About two months in, they stopped
paying.”
    “It never fails to amaze me that you can get people to spill
their life story by just saying ‘Hi.’ He told you all of this on the phone?” Fab
sniffed.
    “There’s more. Then came the ‘all cash’ offer for the
property. That scared Mr. Iver. He figured they were doing something illegal,
and rejected the offer. The second he began eviction proceedings, the threats
started, none too subtle either. Boyd bashed in the windshield of Mr. Iver’s
car while he sat behind the wheel.”
    Fab poured herself another cup of the black mud she called
coffee. “Cash for the purchase of a house. I smell drugs.”
    “Terms of the deal: swap a deed for a big bag of hundreds.”
    “Let’s blow up the house, and then they’re forced to move.”
    “That’s a really bad idea.” I picked up my cell. “You know I
hate that,” I said, pointing to Jazz, recently placed on the counter by Fab.
    “Don’t make me shoot you.” Fab stared. Slice answered on the
second ring. “What can I do for you, Madison?” Zach had made Slice on loan to
me on those occasions I needed a frightening, scary fixer.
    “I need movers to go down to Pigeon Key and evict four
redneck thugs, possible drug dealers, ASAP. It needs to be made clear that
they’re not welcome anywhere in the one-hundred-ten mile stretch of the Keys.”
    “You’re stacking up the IOUs. One won’t be sufficient for
this job. And double if I have to kill one of them.”
    “Do you need me to give you a written note for your boss?” I
didn’t abuse the relationship by asking Slice to keep secrets from Zach.
    “Trouble maker.” Slice laughed. “My presence in your fiascos
gives him peace of mind.”
    “You’re the best.”
    “Stop with the schmooze or I’ll change my mind. By this afternoon,
your friends will be long gone or appetizers for the alligators,” Slice
assured.
    “Do you want the back-story?”
    “I’ll get it for myself. I’m good at extracting details.
Heads up, the boss listened to most of this conversation before he got called
into a meeting, so expect an interrogation.”
    “Don’t worry; I know the best time to bring up ‘guess what’s
new’ items.”
    Slice hung up laughing.
    “Warn me when Zach finds out we’re asking questions about
the Cosmo Rich murder,” Fab said. “He’ll blame me with the ‘you’re a bad
influence’ lecture.”
    “I haven’t asked a single question.”
    “Yet. And let me know when your family finds out. I want to
be there for the fireworks. Does this have anything to do with the investigator
application?” Fab asked.
    “You reading my mail again?” Fab was nosey; most of the time
it didn’t bother me.
    “Does Zach know?”
    “Of course not. He’s still getting used to the idea of my
having a concealed permit.”
    Fab shook her finger at me. “You be the one to tell him.
Don’t let him find out from someone else.”
* * *
    Fab drove my SUV because it was easier than listening to her
complain about my slow driving. I dug my fingers into the armrest, as she
barely braked for stop signs. Grover paced around, sticking his head out the
open back window, barking at the passing cars. Quiet most other times, in the
car, the dog was a barking