If the aftermath of Jesse's murder was any indication, Elise did rely on her brother for comfort, regardless of their dislike for one another. "Has anyone seen Elise since Jesse's death?"
Gram patted a throw pillow. "We were talking about that at my quilting group yesterday. Dee Madison said she's in deep mourning and hasn't left the house."
That jived with the grief Elise had displayed in her living room. I nestled into Zac's side. I couldn't fathom losing him, and especially not on the occasion of something as special and romantic as a vow renewal.
Zac gave me a squeeze. "So, once Elise and Katrina are settled in at Ocean View, what then?"
Alex surveyed our faces. "We break in to the man cabin."
"Murder, murder, murder!" Smitty paced on his perch.
I pulled the afghan to my nose. That bird was definitely conversational. I just hoped he wasn't clairvoyant.
Alex approached his cage and held up the cover. "Stop it right now, Smitty, or this goes back on."
"Pretty bird." He fluffed his feathers and preened.
Someone needed to let that parrot out of his cage—in a tropical forest.
Alex flopped onto the couch. "Okay, as soon as we're inside Jesse's cabin, we'll split into groups to search for the fishnet stocking and the library copy of A Pocket Full of Rye."
I lowered the afghan an inch. "Don't forget the cameo brooch."
Gram grasped her pearls. "Why, that's it. I remember."
I threw off the afghan. "Who did it belong to, Mrs. Jordan?"
"It was at our cotillion." She stared at the fire as though she could see the past in the flames. "Lydia Simmons wore it on the bodice of her ball gown."
Alex touched her arm. "Who's Lydia, Gram?"
"Elise Rothman's mother."
"Bloody hell!"
No one jumped, and no one spoke. Smitty's screech had said it all.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tommy Two Fingers strode into my living room a few minutes past midnight. He had an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a foot-long covered cage in his hand.
I slid low on the couch and took refuge behind a silk pillow. I would have liked to think that Smitty was in the cage, despite his penchant for squawking up drama, but the hard reality was that it contained rats from my walls.
Alex set her teacup on the coffee table in front of us. "How'd you do with the traps?"
Tommy pulled the cigarette from his lips and lifted the cage. "Got a decent haul. This thing's perty near full, and we got two more o' these downstairs."
I gulped. "We had that many rats?"
"Oh, it ain't a big number. It's the size o' these rascals. Got some half-pounders in this 'un, and Big Ron pulled out a couple as fat as cats."
I should have been horrified, but I was distracted by a vision of a hatted Harriet twisting her whiskers, like Tommy was doing with his mustache.
Alex's eyes gleamed. "Not even Katrina will take on rodents that huge. Are you guys leaving for the mansion?"
"Shortly. Big Ron and Zac are loading the cages into the critter wagon. I'm gonna go load this sucker 'n' do one last check of the traps."
I pulled the pillow closer. "Please do."
"I'll text you ladies as soon as we've set 'em loose." Tommy flashed the peace sign, and I wondered if it was intentional.
After he'd gone, Alex rested her head on the back of the couch and stared up at the gilt ceiling mirror. "No matter how many times I go over it in my mind, I can't decide who killed Jesse—Katrina or Elise."
"And I keep wondering if Gia and I were hired by our uncle's murderer. But I can't imagine what he would've seen in Elise."
She rolled her head in my direction and gave me a long look.
"Okay, so Uncle Vinnie wasn't choosy about his women, but Elise would've been a weird choice even for him. She talks to herself every other sentence."
Alex lifted her head. "You still think Katrina did it?"
I pulled my knees into the pillow. "She could've borrowed the cameo from Elise, maybe without her knowledge, which would've been an added incentive to steal it from us."
"Yeah, but Elise could've killed your uncle and Jesse for reasons we don't know, maybe something related to that casino deal."
I shook my head. "Filly Filipuzzi saw Katrina in this house moving my uncle's furniture. And before that, he heard them arguing." I dropped my feet and death-gripped the pillow. "She killed him, and I'm going to prove it."
A door slammed, underscoring the finality of my proclamation.
"Cassidi Lee Conti!"
A tremor shot up my already scared spine.
Alex swallowed a gulp of tea. "Is that your mother?"
"My aunt, Gia's stepmother. She must've found out Gia was in jail through the network."
"The what?"
"It's complicated. I'll get back to you on that."
A clomping came up the hallway.
Her too-high heels.
Aunt Carla appeared loaded for bear in head-to-toe tiger with hair as big as a lion's mane. "What are all those men doing at your house this time of night? The neighbors will think you're a whoruh."
In Italian-American neighborhoods, "whore" was a two-syllable word, and the act of being a whore constituted the eighth deadly sin. "We have rats—"
"Starting with the dirty cop that arrested my daughtuh."
"Did Gia call you?"
Her false eyelashes lowered. "I had to find out from Jenny."
"The manicurist from Long Nail?"
My aunt crossed her arms, jingling the Virgin Mary and saint medallions on her necklace. "She's got a cousin at Pretty Nail in Seattle, who mentioned that a fellow manicurist and makeup artist named Gia Deemeetlee got arrested for poisoning a client." She threw up her arms, clanking her bracelets. "The Vietnamese knew before my own people."
Alex shot me a stare that begged for an explanation.
I mouthed Tell you later, but I should've said It's not as bad as it looks. My aunt was worried about Gia, but in the midst of the crisis it was easier to focus on the Vietnamese nail network out-gossiping the Italian-American housewives than on her accused-murderer stepdaughter.
I rose and gave her a hug. "Don't worry, Aunt Carla. We'll clear Gia's name—and the network's."
"I can't even go theuh right now." She pressed fingernails adorned with gold Italy charms to her forehead. "I got two suitcases of food I need to unpack, and then I need a beauty mask and a few hours sleep before I can face this mess." Carla tramped to the hallway.
I returned to my seat. "Sorry I didn't introduce you."
"She was upset. I get it." Alex cradled her teacup. "That was nice of her to bring Gia food from home."
"Oh, it's for her too. She only eats Italian food from the tri-state area. If it comes from anywhere else, she says it's not authentic."
Alex's brow raised, and she took a slug of tea.
Footsteps came up the hall.
Zac entered in a leather jacket and jeans. "I met your aunt. It's insane how much Gia looks like her."
I hated to stereotype, but a lot of New Jersey Italians resembled my aunt. And Gia.
His phone rang. "Who's calling me this late?" He pulled it from his back pocket and frowned. "I don't know this number."
"Answer it," I urged. "In case it's from the jail."
He put the phone to his ear. "Zac Taylor."
I studied his face and saw his jaw tighten.
"Did anyone call the fire department?"
Alex and I shared a worried look.
He ruffled his hair. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to find someone else to deal with it. I've got an emergency of my own." He closed the call and shoved the phone into his pocket. "That was Beverly, Clark's assistant. There was an explosion at the Pirate's Hook Marine dock, and at least two of our boats are on fire. Clark's out of town, and she can't reach him."
I went to his side and touched his arm. "Call her back and tell her you're on your way."
"I can't let you go to the Roth
mans' without me."
"Why not?" Alex stood. "I'll be with her, and so will Big Ron and Tommy."
"Uh-uh. No." He looked at me. "The fire department's en route to the dock, and ultimately this is Clark and Beverly's problem."
I placed my hand on his chest. "In your heart, it's still your father's business, and one day it'll be yours. If the fire spreads to the store, you'll regret not going to help."
He looked up and exhaled his stress. "I'll run over there. When the fire is contained, I'll head to the Rothmans'."
"Sounds good." I embraced him and then let him go. But my chest was heavy as he walked to the hallway.
Somehow I knew there would be another hitch in Operation Disinfestation. And I feared whatever it was.
* * *
At the Bottoms Up bar in my living room, I stared at my phone.
Alex sat on the stool next to mine, facedown on the bar. She wasn't sleeping, or drinking. She was trying to stay sedate while we waited for a text or a call.
At first the minutes had been difficult, and then the seconds turned agonizing. All the while, horrible images flitted like phantom demons through my brain—Zac in the hospital, Gia and George in jail.
"What time is it?" Alex's voice was muffled.
"Two a.m." I sat up and pulled the hair from my eyes. "I don't like this. Tommy and Big Ron released those rats half an hour ago, and I still haven't heard from Zac."
She straightened. "I'll text Tommy. The rats should've done the trick by now."
"Especially since they put them in their bedrooms."
She typed a message and dropped her phone on the counter. Then she rubbed her thighs and forced a smile. "I would've loved to have been a fly in those rooms, wouldn't you?"
"Not me. Rats eat flies."
Her phone beeped, and she lunged for it. "It's Tommy. He says they're hiding in the bushes like critters, waiting for movement in the mansion."
The man was a speedy texter. If Aunt Carla hadn't been asleep down the hall, she would've said that the loss of those three digits made him lighter on his two fingertips.
"Hang on. He's typing another message." Alex's eyes grew as wide as a shot glass, and she grabbed my arm. "A Mercedes just sped away from the Rothmans'."
"Were Katrina and Elise both in it?"
She fired off a text and got a reply beep. "They couldn't see inside. But I think it's safe to head over there."
I wasn't convinced that Katrina, an MMA fighter turned killer, would turn tail and run from rodents. "We need to wait for Bree to confirm that they've checked in to the B&B. We can't risk getting caught—or ambushed."
"You're right. We shouldn't stray from the plan." Alex returned to her facedown position.
And I resumed staring.
A low rumble sounded.
She raised her head. "Was that thunder?"
"No, my aunt's snoring." Like everything else about Aunt Carla, her sleeping was loud.
My message tone chimed.
"It's Zac." I scanned the text, and my stress combusted. "The fire has spread toward Pirate's Hook Marine. He's been in touch with Tommy and Big Ron, and he wants us to text him when we've heard from Bree." I tossed my phone on the bar and rubbed my temples.
Alex rubbed my back. "He'll be fine. The fire department's on it."
Still, I wanted to be there with him. I knew Zac, and if the flames spread to the storefront, he might fight the fire himself.
Another rumble sounded.
Alex spun her stool toward the hallway. "Your aunt can really snore."
"That was actual thunder."
"Ah." She went to a window and drew the curtains. "Rain could be a problem."
"I want it to rain. It could help put out the fire at Pirate's Hook Marine."
She turned, her eyes soft. "You really love him, don't you?"
I nodded. "He makes me so happy that I moved to Danger Cove, despite all the problems I've had here. And he's the main reason I stay when things get bad. I thought we'd eventually get married, but—"
"You're not going to get arrested, Cassidi." She paced in front of the hearth. "Jesse was a blackmailer, so he had something on Katrina. And we're going to find it, even if Big Ron and I have to take that man cabin apart board by board."
I appreciated her attempt to comfort me, but I could see how concerned she was. I needed to return the reassurance. "George is going to be fine too. I know how much you care for him."
"Oh, I don't care. I'm just used to him, that's all."
I'd watched The Thin Man movie, and that comment was classic Nora Charles.
Alex's phone beeped, and she rushed to the bar. "Bree just got two late-night check-ins." Her gaze met mine. "Elise and Katrina."
Lightning lit the sky, and I would have sworn the bolt hit my body. The next few hours would determine the course of the rest of our lives—Alex's, George's, Gia's, Zac's, mine, even Tommy's and Big Ron's.
And I hoped we would all survive the storm that was to come.
* * *
Big Ron, Tommy, Alex, and I congregated in the open living area of Jesse's man cabin. Between our three businesses, we'd produced enough plastic and rubber clothing to work in a morgue. Or maybe a cafeteria. We couldn't risk leaving any fingerprints or strands of hair that could later incriminate us.
Alex shined her phone light on the vaulted ceiling beams. "Looks like a classic hunting lodge."
It smelled like one too. The place reeked of polished wood, expensive leather, and stale cigar smoke.
Her light moved to a massive stone fireplace, and my eyes locked on a mounted boar head hanging on the hearth above. Whoever stuffed the animal had left its mouth halfway open to reveal its long, curved teeth.
I gave a shiver, and my protective clothing crinkled. "Have either of you heard from Zac?"
Big Ron lowered his industrial mask. "Uh, I did. It took some work, but I convinced him to stay at the marine supply store a little longer. I figured the four of us could handle the search."
"Right. Great." I added a note of spunk to my tone to conceal my disappointment. I couldn't shake the sensation that I would need Zac with me. Desperately.
Tommy twisted a handlebar that protruded from his facemask. "We'd best get back to searchin'. We did Jesse's office while you ladies were on your way. I'm working on the sauna, and Big Ron's got the walk-in humidor."
"I'll take the bedrooms and bathrooms," Alex said.
I eyed the boar. "I'll search in here."
Alex entered a bedroom off the hearth, and the men went to the back of the cabin.
I tackled the kitchenette-bar that overlooked the living space. One by one I opened the cabinets, inspecting the contents and feeling the wood for trap doors and hidden compartments.
Nothing.
I started on the drawers.
Alex emerged from the front bedroom. "That was a bust. Have you found anything?"
"Not unless you count a lot of sharp knives and these." I held up a glass in the shape of a nude woman.
"Charming." She gave an eye roll. "No wonder he built this place. I'm sure Elise wouldn't let those in her house." She gestured to a hallway. "I'm going to start on the back bedrooms."
"When I'm done, I'll come help you out."
She left, but I wasn't alone.
The boar head seemed to watch me as I finished going through the drawers.
I knew it was my imagination—the effect of too many old horror movies—but nevertheless I turned away and looked through the refrigerator.
Nothing there, either.
The wind picked up, howling around the cabin.
Strangely, I almost welcomed the sound. Even with the four of us inside, the place was too quiet.
I entered the living room and shined my phone light on a western-style leather couch. A search of the cushions produced a peanut and thirty-eight cents. I rose and thought I saw the boar's eyes flash.
I muffled a scream.
Chill out. It was your phone reflecting off its
glass eyes. Either that or the boar was making sure I didn't steal the money I'd found.
I de-cushioned a suede armchair and knelt to search its folds.
Several taps came from the window.
With a single bound, I flew behind the couch.
The tapping continued, but at that point my heart was louder.
I crawled to one end of the couch and peered around the side.
A tree branch bumped against the glass, courtesy of the strong wind.
I sat on my heels and exhaled. I had to calm down. After all, it wasn't like I was alone in Jesse's man cabin.
I rose and went to the TV cabinet. Besides the wide-screen television, there was a DVD case. I opened it. Disney Princesses?
Jesse Rothman was a freak.
A pinging caught my attention, and I fled back to the couch.
I listened, ears and arm hair on alert.
It was rain pelting the tin roof.
Seriously, Cassidi?
The pinging turned to pounding. I went to the window. Marble-sized hail gathered on the ground.
At least I couldn't hear the tapping tree branch anymore. And hopefully the rain and hail would extinguish the fire at Pirate's Hook Marine. Then Zac would come to the mansion, and everything would go smoothly.
I moved from the window and scanned the living area, looking for the next place to search.
The fireplace.
Beginning at the base, I felt for loose stones. I worked my way up the hearth until I couldn't reach any higher. I turned on my phone light to look for cracks in the seals around the stones I couldn't get to. I aimed the beam directly below the boar.
And I saw the flash again.
It wasn't the boar's glass eyes. It was something in his mouth. I shined the light between its teeth and saw gold.
I leaned back.
Obviously, it wasn't a tooth. What I didn't know was whether taxidermists used metal plating when they stuffed an animal. But if they did, it wouldn't be gold.
I dragged the suede chair to the fireplace and balanced on the arms. Even with my gloves, I dreaded touching the dead boar. Gritting my teeth to keep from screaming, I stuck two fingers between its curled fangs and felt the item. It was cool and smooth to the touch. And it had a thin bar across it.
Killer Eyeshadow and a Cold Espresso (A Danger Cove Hair Salon Mystery) Page 16
