Margot Harris Mystery Series : Box Set 2 (Margot Harris Mystery Series Two - Twisted)

by Nora Kane

  She was surprised Phoebe was still staying in the house where her husband and his lover were murdered. It was even more surprising to find her in the back yard where the crime took place. The hot tub where they’d died and were found floating in red water had been drained and covered up, but the tub itself was still there as a reminder.

  Phoebe was sunning herself in a skimpy bikini that wouldn’t leave many tan lines and drinking something clear with a lime in it when Margot let herself into the back yard.

  Margot didn’t know either victim. but seeing the hottub where they met such a violent end was disturbing to her. Phoebe, who was sitting in a chaise lounge facing the tub, didn’t seem bothered.

  Phoebe didn’t move as she said, “Margot, what a surprise.”

  “I called, you didn’t answer.”

  “So, you rushed over to check on me?”

  “Something like that.”

  Phoebe held up her glass. “Would you like a drink? I know you’re more a whiskey girl, but on a hot day, a bit of vodka on ice sure hits the spot.”

  “It’s ten in the morning.”

  “So? I mean, how can you drink all day if you don’t start in the morning?”

  “I’m working, Phoebe.”

  “You shouldn’t let that stop you. In fact, why don’t you join me? I have a drawer full of bathing suits and I bet you and I wear the same size.”

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” Margot said as she pulled up the other chaise lounge and sat on the edge so she was facing Phoebe.

  “Why not? You shouldn’t be shy about wearing a bikini. I bet you look good. Maybe better than me right now. I haven’t been too inspired to get to the gym.”

  “I’m working on keeping you out of jail, Phoebe.”

  “So no sunshine and vodka for you?”

  “No. I’m sure I’m not the first to ask you this, but do you have any idea how Lucas might have gotten the straight razor?”

  “Other than he stole it when he killed my husband?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No.”

  “Is there anyone else who could have taken it? Is it something your husband would have noticed missing?”

  Phoebe sipped some Vodka as she thought about it.

  “The razor was just for show. Tim liked the idea of a straight razor, but he didn’t shave with it regularly; in fact, the only time he tried, he cut himself. So, it could have been gone for a while without him knowing it, but I can’t think who would have been in our bathroom to steal it other than the maid and I don’t think she would do that. Even if she were a thief, there are a lot better things in the house to steal and I can’t picture her hanging out with Lucas.”

  “Can you tell me how to reach her?”

  “You’re not going to accuse her of stealing are you?”

  “No, but she might have noticed when the razor went missing.”

  “She’d have a better idea than me. I have her number somewhere.”

  Margot thought she might get up and go find the number, but the only thing she moved was her glass back to her lips.

  They both turned as the back gate opened again.

  Margot was surprised to see Detective Anderson walk through.

  “What are you doing here, Margot?” he asked. She was surprised he’d taken his eyes off Phoebe long enough to notice she was there.

  “I work for her defense team, why are you here?”

  “I just thought I’d drop by to say hello.”

  Margot looked over at Phoebe. “Do you want me to call Browers?”

  “Why? You think that cute lawyer, the one with the Porsche, would come by? If so, you definitely need to go change into one of my suits. That pants suit thing you’ve got going does not do your body justice.”

  “A detective just walked into your backyard. Trust me, he does not have your best interest at heart.”

  Phoebe lowered her sunglasses so Anderson could see her wink and then said, “I can’t speak for his heart, but I think some of him has my best interests in mind. At least certain interests.”

  Looking at Anderson, she was probably right, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a detective looking to solve a case.

  “Then I’ll call them for you,” Margot said as she fished her phone out of her purse.

  “I don’t think you need to do that, Margot,” Phoebe said, “Harlan is one of the nice ones.”

  “There are no nice detectives, even if you know their first names.”

  “Maybe you just have a bad attitude,” Anderson told her.

  “What do you really want, Anderson?”

  “I was in the neighborhood and during the course of my investigation, I noticed Ms. Masterson was having some difficulties,” Anderson said as pointed at the nearly empty glass of vodka in Phoebe’s hands. “I thought it might be prudent to check on her.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Don’t be so cynical, Margot,” Phoebe said right before she gulped down the last of her drink, “I told you he was one of the nice ones.”

  “Look, Margot,” Anderson said, “since you’re here watching over her, I’ll be on my way.”

  “You sure you don’t want to stay for a drink?” Phoebe asked as she stood up. If the alcohol had any effect on her, it didn’t show.

  “I think Detective Anderson wouldn’t want to be drinking on the job.”

  “She’s right. We’ll talk soon, Phoebe.”

  Phoebe smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Anderson left the way he came in and Phoebe headed inside.

  “Get your maid’s number while you’re in there,” Margot told her.

  “Okay, you sure you don’t want a drink?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Phoebe returned with a Merry Maids business card with the name ‘Mary’ written on the back with another phone number.

  “Be nice, like I said, I like her.”

  “No problem. Is he right?”

  “Who?”

  “Anderson.”

  “You mean Harlan?”

  “He and I aren’t on a first name basis, but yeah.”

  “I’m not in jail, yet. If you worried about me hanging myself or drowning in the pool, you don’t have to. I’ve drank like this for a while now.”

  “I can hang out if you don’t want to be alone.”

  “But you’re not going to drink with me?”

  “No.”

  “I’m fine, Margot. In fact, the idea that you’re out there looking for who really killed Tim makes me feel a lot better than you sitting here being a bummer while I tan.”

  “Okay, I might go call your maid then. I’ll come by later.”

  “Sounds great.”

  “If Anderson comes back, call me. He might seem nice, but you can’t trust him.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I do say so. See you later, Phoebe.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Margot went out to her car and was getting ready to call the maid when she saw Harry Lee had returned her text from the wee hours of the morning.

  The text read: Layla’s West at noon.

  He didn’t seem to be asking.

  Margot checked the time on her phone. If she left now, she could beat him there and be ready if he had some surprise in mind.

  Chapter 7

  Margot wished she had time to set up some backup. Since she was sliding into legally dubious territory, she wasn’t sure how comfortable she was asking Shaw or Radcliff. They were both probably busy with their own work, anyway. She didn’t doubt either one of them would do it, busy or not, which was part of the problem. She thought too highly of both of them to risk dragging them down to her level.

  That was the nice thing about Mal. Working for Margot was as close as he got to going straight, but he always had her back, no questions asked. At least, until recently. It was that loyalty that had her going to talk to Harry Lee before she went to the police.

  Layla's West was never full, but there were a few
more customers drinking their way through lunch than there were the afternoon they’d met before. Margot was still able to get a table that let her put her back against the wall. Even though she’d turned down Phoebe and tried to take her no drinking during work policy seriously, Margot ordered her usual Makers Mark on ice. She justified it by telling herself this could be her last drink. Her last anything really; Harry Lee had a reputation for making people who got in the way of his business disappear. The fact she was working for him didn’t really change that.

  Harry arrived a half an hour before he said he would get there.

  Unlike last time, he had Bobby with him. Harry sent his thug/bodyguard to the bar and went over to join her at the table.

  “Finish your drink. I had Bobby get you a fresh one,” Harry said as he sat down.

  “Thanks, but I’m only going to have one. I’m working.”

  “Bobby’s bringing it anyway. What you do with it is up to you.”

  Margot didn’t want to make him mad, so she said, “Thanks, I appreciate the effort.”

  “Good to see you’re not in custody.”

  “Being innocent helps.”

  Harry smiled. “I wouldn’t know much about that. What can I do for you, Margot?”

  “Mal used to work for you back in the day.”

  “That was the rumor.”

  “It wasn’t a rumor.”

  “He told you that?”

  “No, but that doesn’t matter. Mal would never lie to me, but he would choose not to say if I put the question to him.”

  “I take it he wouldn’t say anything about me.”

  “Exactly. I’m not going to ask what he did for you—I don’t want to know—but I need to know if he’s back in your employ.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “He’s in town, and he’s involved in this whole thing somehow.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “A video Cassandra Cole showed to me.”

  “The one they arrested you for trying to kill?”

  “Technically, they never arrested me, but yeah,” Margot told him, “the video is the man they think contracted Lucas’s murder. The man looks a lot like Mal.”

  “Looks a lot like Mal is not the same as being Mal.”

  “No, but whoever he was he used the name Dennis Thorn.”

  “So?”

  “So, Dennis Thorn was Mal’s alias when he was working undercover.”

  Harry smiled again. “Now that you say it, I remember when we first met he was Dennis Thorn. I’d forgotten.”

  “So had I for a little bit.”

  “Mal put the hit on Lucas?”

  “Looks that way. The question is, who told him to do it? I don’t see him doing that on his own.”

  Bobby brought them their drinks. Harry gave him a look and Bobby went back to the bar and ordered something for himself.

  “So you called to ask me if he works for me?”

  “Seems a reasonable question.”

  “Except I hired you to find Lucas’s killer. It would be a weird thing to do if I was the one who ordered Lucas go down.”

  “It would be, but if it was true, I’d guess you’d have some kind of angle.”

  “What would my angle be?”

  Margot finished her first drink. She took a sip of the second one even though she said she didn’t want it. Once again, Harry had picked out her drink of choice.

  “I don’t know what your angle would be, Harry. I’m just a simple P.I. You're the criminal mastermind. Just because I don’t see it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”

  “All that being true, I can still tell you Mal is not working for me right now in any capacity.”

  “Okay, if not you, who?”

  “I don’t know, but I can do some checking. These people will be much more inclined to talk to me than you.”

  “Thanks. In the meantime, watch your back. It has the feel of someone moving in on you.”

  “I’ll do that, Margot, thanks.”

  “One more thing: if he’s not working for you, I’m giving his name to the police.”

  “Really? After all you’ve been through together?”

  “Someone tried to shoot me earlier tonight. It felt a lot like Mal. Even if it wasn’t, I can’t be holding out on an accessory to murder.”

  “He’s not working for me. Tell whoever you want.”

  “I wasn’t asking permission.”

  “Just out of curiosity, if he was working for me, what would you have done?”

  “You’re just going to have to stay curious about that one.”

  “I’m not sure I like that answer.”

  Margot drank some more of the drink she claimed not to want before she said, “I leave first. Take your time and enjoy our drink because if I see any of you coming my way, someone is getting hurt.”

  “You still don’t trust me?”

  “No,” Margot said as she stood.

  “You sure you don’t want to hang around? Getting shot at is no picnic. If I was you, I’d want to have a few drinks.”

  “I’m over it already,” Margot said as she took another sip. She left thinking not finishing the whole glass was something of a victory.

  Margot was debating whether to call the maid or call Ames and tell him about Mal. While she was trying to decide, she checked her email and saw Mal had replied to her messages.

  His message was simple: It’s not what you think.

  Margot replied: Then what is it?

  He didn’t reply.

  Margot got in her car and Mal sat up in her backseat.

  Chapter 8

  “Have you come to finish the job you messed up last night?” Margot asked Mal, keeping her eyes on him in the mirror and shifting her hand toward her purse.

  “What job last night?”

  He sounded sincere, but even though he’d always been honest with her, Margot knew he was a very capable liar.

  “You didn’t shoot at me last night by the 7-11?”

  “No, why would you think that?”