Final Notice: A Damaged Goods Mystery by Jennifer L. Hart
$3.99
She’s serving up mayhem in the Magic City….
FINAL STRAW
Dishing out bad news is Jackie Parker’s job until her boss grabs her
assets one time too many and she serves him her notice and hopes he
chokes on it. There must be a better way for a certified process server
to make a living in Miami than working for a lousy lecherous lawyer.
Whatever Jackie decides, her number one priority is spending time with
her husband, Luke, preferably without his brother Logan—AKA the Dark
Prince.
FINAL WARNING
Despite Logan’s objections, Luke asks her to join forces in their
own property management team, Damaged Goods. Drawing the line between
professional and personal lives proves challenging though, especially
with Logan serving her an ultimatum—tell Luke the truth about what
really happened the night they first met or he will. Sexual harassment
is looking better and better.
FINAL NOTICE
Fester Gomez is three months behind on his rent for his pricey South
Beach condo and Damaged Goods is on the job. Either they convince the
tenant to pay up or he’ll face eviction. The simple task turns deadly
when the team discovers Gomez missing and a Jane Doe slowly decomposing
in his bathtub. Serving a killer up to justice, wrestling family
secrets—it’s just another day on the job for Damaged Goods.
Excerpt:
That creep had grabbed my ass for the last time.
I raised the clipboard I’d been
holding up over my head—ready to smash it down on the booty grabber’s
cranium—when Marcy Regan snuck up behind me and snatched my makeshift weapon
out of my hands.
“Don’t, Jackie. He’ll file an
assault charge.”
“Then I’ll file the sexual
harassment charge.” I seethed.
“Think of the paperwork,” Marcy
hissed. “And the lawyers.”
It was not an idle observation.
Marcy worked for the Miami-Dade County Clerk’s office and she spent her days up
to her eyeballs in paperwork. And I was currently employed by Stan Cunningham,
the ass grabbing lawyer. Neither of us wanted to bring the job home with us.
Ugh. She was right, I knew it but
as I glowered at my still smirking boss seated behind his ostentatious mahogany
desk, I wanted him to suffer. Boils and sores were too good for this hump.
“Dude, what part of ‘I’m married so keep your paws to yourself,’ don’t
you understand?”
His face went blank “I didn’t do
anything.”
As I stared into his doughy face,
one thing became clear. No job was worth such crap, especially not the peanuts
I’d been paid.
“Give me the clipboard, Marcy.” My
voice remained steady.
“What are you going to do with it?”
Her tone was wary, but she handed it over.
I flipped over the case we’d been
going over, scrawled I quit, you big tool, and dropped it on his desk.
Terminating my employment on a notice of termination—how appropriate. “Cough up
what you owe me or I’ll send my husband for it. With his entire marine
platoon.” Their version of collecting was of the turn your head and cough
variety. I doubted the pervert liked them apples.
The smarmy grin slid right off Stan
the Shyster’s face. “Take it out of petty cash.”
“Gladly.” After backing away
slowly, I pivoted on my heel and made for the front office, cleared out the
petty cash and moved to the glass door.
I gestured to Marcy. “Let’s go,
lunch is on me.”
We headed down to our favorite
little Panini cafe where I ordered a Piña Colada the size of a fishbowl—a
reward for my restraint. Though I offered one to Marcy as well, she declined.
“Some of us have to go back to work,” she
groused.
“I’ll make it up to you this
weekend.” I owed her, big time. If I had hit Stan the Stain and he took me to
court, I could’ve lost my process serving certificate. Then I’d really be out
of luck.
I slid my oversized sunglasses up
and took in the scenery. A cloudless blue sky, palm trees swaying hither and
yon. Pedestrians in micro dresses, short-shorts and swimsuits strolled by. Oh,
to be able to loll around and enjoy the sea breeze.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
Marcy took a delicate bite of her mozzarella and tomato Panini.
“Tell Luke I quit. After I throw
him a bang, of course.” My husband was always so much more agreeable while
basking in post-coital bliss.
“Did he find a job yet?”
“He’s doing security with his brother.”
Marcy’s big blue eyes got even
bigger. “Logan’s back? Why didn’t you tell me?” She fanned herself. Apparently
the wind off the water wasn’t enough to contend with her heated thoughts of my
brother-in-law.
“Sorry, I didn’t think you cared.”
The lie scalded my throat. Truth was, I’d done my best not to think
about Logan Parker for the six years Luke and I had been married.
“He’s the hottest guy on the face
of the planet.” Marcy fluffed her blonde hair as though just mentioning the
Devil’s name would draw his notice. “Is he seeing anybody?”
“A therapist, I hope.” I drained my
drink. “I should get home. Do a little feminine maintenance before I break the
big news.”
Marcy grinned. “Or you could look
for another job.”
“Oh you and your zany ideas.” The
thought of going to work for another sleazy lawyer made my skin crawl. We had
some money saved up and I could afford to take a little while to consider my
options.
I left Marcy outside the county
clerk’s office and hailed a cab. Last thing I needed was a DUI. Luke was gonna
be upset already.
Not with me though, never with me.
My husband didn’t think the sun rose until I got out of bed in the morning. No,
the censure would be totally focused inward. On himself for being unable to
land a permanent job post-military. Luke was old-fashioned—he wanted to support
me, not the other way around.
Stubborn Parker men. My brain shied
away from thoughts of Logan, hoping to God that Luke wouldn’t drag him home for
a beer after work. Not only did I not want to see him, I didn’t want to
compound Luke’s humiliation by fessing up about the grabby attorney in front of
his brother’s hawk-like stare.
To my surprise, Luke’s big black
truck was parked in front of our little bungalow in the neighborhood known as
Coral Gate on the west end of the city. The house was 1920’s era that had been
remodeled hideously in the 1950’s and again in Technicolor in the 70’s. We were
slowly upgrading it with a more modern color scheme while restoring the
historic appeal, an arduous and costly proposition. After paying the cab
driver, I made my way up the cracked concrete walkway and followed the sound of
hammering around the side of the house.
Luke stood there with his shirt
off, golden sweat-slicked muscles gleaming in the sun. His dark hair was damp,
pushed back away from his face, having grown out since his last tour of duty
ended. My heart sped at the sight of him and I wrapped my arms around him from
behind, pressing my body into his. “Hey there, sexy.”
Instead of hugging me back he
stiffened instantly, muscles freezing into granite. He looked over his
shoulder. Piercing blue eyes, not the expected melty chocolate I loved, stared
down at me. “Jacqueline.”
Logan. “Holy Mary and a bag of
chips, sorry! Sorry!” I let him go instantly, but the damage was already done.
Stupid, delicious rum based drink had impaired my judgment. Crap on a cracker,
could this day get any worse? “I thought you were Luke.”
“Obviously.” His gaze dipped from
my face down to my chest. “That’s a nice look.”
Huh? Glancing down my body I saw
that the cream-colored shell top was now plastered to my chest thanks to his
manly sweat saturating the fabric. I plucked it away from my skin, flustered
beyond belief. “Friggin hell, I want a do-over for today.”
“If only I had that power.” There
was censure in Logan’s deep tone. Censure and regret.
My gaze flew to his, my heart
pounding like it wanted out of my ribcage. Oh no, he was not going
there, not when I was half drunk and fully freaked out.
“Hey babe, thought I heard you.”
Luke moved out onto the verandah. He was also shirtless and sweating, a
reprieve for my reeling senses. My safe harbor.
From the front he and Logan were
similar in both height and build, but Luke was rangier, designed for speed more
than heavy lifting. His smile was the most welcoming sight.
Brushing past Logan, I moved up the
steps to press myself against my man and he pulled me into the safety of his
arms.
“You smell like rum.” He laughed
and kissed the top of my head. “And did I see a cab drop you off? Something
wrong with your car?”
“I quit my job.” Frick, there went
my awesome seduction to help break the news plan. I cast Logan a dark look. It
was his fault for throwing me off balance.
Luke rubbed my back in a soothing
motion. “And the rum?”
Since I’d already spilled the
beans…. “I got blitzed on a giant Piña colada after I cleared out the petty
cash. Seemed like a good idea at the time.” Before I knew I was destined to humiliate
myself in front of Logan.
Again. Why did I always end up
running into him when I had a snoot-full?
“Looks like you’ve got stuff to
deal with, man. I’m gonna take off,” the Dark Prince intoned.
I sagged, but my relief was
premature because Luke said, “Hang on a second. This could be a good thing.”
As far as I could tell, the only
good thing had been the booze and that was long gone. I pulled back to study
his face. “What do you mean?”
He grinned, that boyishly charming
grin that had snagged my heart at first sight. “Come inside and we’ll hash it
out. It’s hot out here. Logan, you want a beer?”
“No.” Logan’s tone was emphatic and
I got the feeling he wasn’t talking about the beer.
“Man, she’s qualified and she knows
everyone. Where are we going to find—?”
“I said no.” A muscle jumped in Logan’s
jaw.
I glanced between the brothers and
worried my lower lip. “What are we talking about here?”
Luke looked down at me. “Logan and
I were thinking of going into business for ourselves.”
“Like your own property management
company?” The work Luke had been doing was of the odd jobs, thankless part-time
variety and I knew it didn’t make him happy. He wanted to make a difference and
do something he felt was important.
“Right. We’d try to strike a deal
with the tenants without legal intervention. It’s less expensive for all
parties involved.”
Which meant less work for guys like
Shyster Stan. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”
“But we need a certified process server
on board, someone who knows the county laws and could make sure we stay on the
right side of them. A person who can serve the papers on behalf of the owner
and, if necessary, can legally write notices for eviction. We were going to
look for somebody else, but since you’re free….” He tossed me a wink.
“Wow.” I blinked from more than
just the harsh sunlight. “I don’t know what to say.” Maybe it was the rum
talking, but it sounded like a stellar idea. With Luke in the military, I’d
barely seen him. If we went down this road, we would work side by side on
something that mattered to us both.
Plus there was no shortage of work.
With the housing market hit hard in Florida, properties stood empty and owners
were constantly searching for property management teams to take care of messy
situations. Ousting squatters, collecting past due rent, stopping unlawful
activity and, when necessary, streamlining Florida’s complicated eviction
process to rerent the property to decent tenants as soon as legally possible.
It was hard, often thankless work, but it paid well. I knew how to make sure
that all the i’s were dotted, the t’s were crossed so anyone who hired us
wouldn’t end up with a giant lawsuit on their hands.
“Luke,” Logan’s tone held a
warning. “It isn’t safe. Are you really willing to put her in harm’s way?”
I turned to face my brother-in-law.
The living, breathing downside to this seemingly awesome plan. If working with
Luke was a dream then working with Logan was a nightmare. Were his objections
really about my safety or did he just want to nix the idea before it took root?
“I’ve served in that capacity before, at the sheriff’s office. Luke’s right, no
one knows the eviction process in this county better than me, at least not in
the private sector.”
“We could take on Aaron’s job. Go
there tonight and see what’s what. He owns near half the damn county and if he
likes our work, he’ll recommend us.” Luke was like a little kid in a toy store,
his enthusiasm contagious, at least for me.
I hadn’t heard him so hopeful for
the future in a long time. Turning toward Logan, I made up my mind then and
there that I would do everything in my power to help him make this dream a
reality.
Logan and I would just have to deal
with each other. Be professionally courteous. We were adults, we could handle
it and we would if I had anything to say about it.
If not he could take a long walk
off a short pier.
“I’m in.” I said. Luke squeezed me
and Logan looked like he’d chewed on a fresh turd.
For better or worse, I had a new
job.
****
Aaron Tanner was a marine who’d
gone through boot camp with Luke. After serving out one tour, he’d inherited
his father’s condo complex in South Beach and left the military to be a full
time landlord. According to the file Luke had given me, Aaron’s tenant, a Mr.
Fester Gomez, was three months behind in his rent.
The eviction process is complex in
any state, but Florida had its own special quirks. The laws were written to
protect tenant rights before those of the property owner. Knowing what I do
about the eviction process, I’d rather stick a hot poker in my eye or spend ten
minutes locked in a closet with Logan, than ever choose to be a landlord.
As Luke drove over the MacArthur
Causeway, I read the file out loud. “Fester Gomez, Latino, age sixty three,
widower. Lived here for ten years, never had a late payment before. Aaron wants
us to talk with him, inspect the property for damages if he’ll let us and find
out why he’s not paying his rent.”
“And if he doesn’t let us?” Luke
asked.
“I’ll post a twenty four hour
inspection notice and we’ll go in tomorrow.”
“You’ll stay in the car.” Logan
didn’t phrase it as a request and I didn’t appreciate his tone.
“I’m going in. Mr. Gomez has no
criminal record, he’s not a threat. Besides, if you two scary guys knock on his
door and give him a heart attack, Aaron might get sued. Then we’re SOL.”
“Jackie’s right, Logan. We’re just
going to talk this out. Aaron doesn’t want to go through the trouble of
eviction if there are any other options.”
From my position in the back I saw
Logan shift, so I was prepared when he pivoted to glare at me. “Don’t do
anything stupid.”
“Broke that habit years ago.” The
passive-aggression was so dense you could eat it with a spork. I saw the
instant the barb struck home. His eyes narrowed to blue slits. I raised an
eyebrow, daring him to take it further.
“Knock it off you two. We’re almost
there.” That from Luke, the peacemaker of our little trio, who multitasked
brilliantly as he turned the truck onto Ocean Drive.
He stopped the vehicle near a
pristine white stucco apartment complex. I whistled low as my feet met asphalt.
“Hot damn, you think Aaron would rent to us while we finish the house? I always
wanted to live near the beach.”
“We couldn’t afford it.” Luke said,
sending me a rueful smile. “Maybe in a few years, if this business works out.”
Logan remained quiet, assessing our
surroundings with watchful eyes.
We trooped across the street and
into the breezeway, stopping at the door to 1C. I held my clipboard with the
3-Day notice all filled out, should Mr. Gomez not provide an adequate reason
why he’d been skipping his rent. Luke and I exchanged a glance, he nodded, and
I knocked on the door, going over the spiel I’d prepped.
A spiel, I didn’t need because the
unlatched door creaked open ominously. “Uh oh.”
“Get back,” Logan snarled, shoving
me behind him and several steps to the side. I didn’t protest the rough
treatment because my nose had picked up the same stench that had put him on
high alert. Something that reeked like death.
“I’m going in,” Logan said.
“Don’t be an idiot.” Luke grabbed
for his brother’s shoulder but Logan shrugged him off.
“If whatever’s in there is still
alive, it needs help. Get her back to the car.” Logan barreled forward like a
freight train.
“Idiot.” Luke growled. “Jackie, go
back to the car. Call 911. Tell them what’s going on.”
Luke shoved his cell phone at me
and I fumbled it. “You don’t know what’s in there.”
“Logan’s in there,” he said simply
and disappeared into the place.
The Parker brothers might be big,
tough heroes but I sure as hell didn’t want to see what was making that smell.
Week-old garbage rotting in a Dumpster was more appetizing. I couldn’t just go
lock myself in the car though. What if they needed help?
I dialed the phone and gave the 911
operator the address. “Probable DOA. My husband and his brother have gone in to
check on the resident.”
“Do you require an ambulance?”
Considering Mr. Gomez’s rent was
three month’s late, I seriously doubted it. Still, I called out, “Luke? Is
there anyone alive in there?”
It was Logan who appeared, his
T-shirt pulled up to cover his mouth and nose. “Whoever did this is long gone.”
I was craning past him, looking for
Luke. “Did what?”
Sirens blared in the distance,
announcing help was on the way.
“Luke, get out here!” Logan called,
shoving me back into the breezeway. “Put your hands up so the cops can see
them.”
“Ma’am? Are you there?” The 911
operator’s voice crackled over the line.
Luke slipped through the door, face
ghostly pale as his eyes met mine. He’d seen his share of dead bodies and I
doubt discovering Mr. Gomez had passed peacefully in his sleep would have
brought on that kind of reaction.
“What’s wrong?”
Logan and Luke exchanged a look and
I knew Logan didn’t want to tell me, the jerk, while Luke couldn’t see any way
to avoid it.
“It’s not Gomez.”
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