Murder at Sunrise Lake
Page 6
That wasn’t like Zahra at all. She worked. She stuck to her calendar and crossed appointments off as they came. She looked innocent, but then that was half of Zahra’s charm. She could look innocent even if she was stealing your car right out from under you. When they went to the gym together and shared a personal trainer, Zahra could talk him into letting her off the hook when it came to the harder exercises, even though Zahra could do them no problem. Stella, on the other hand, thought she was dying and the trainer just made her do more. She didn’t have that cute accent or the adorable smile of innocence Zahra had.
“What’s going on with you?” Stella asked.
“I needed girl time.”
Stella regarded her suspiciously. There was a plate of fried zucchini, one of Shabina’s specialties. It wasn’t just any old fried zucchini. This tasted light, as if it wasn’t fried and couldn’t possibly add a single calorie to your body. Shabina could fool you into thinking things like that with her food.
“Perfect. So do I. I’m going camping and need someone to camp with me.” Stella pounced. Zahra was a five-star luxury girl. She’d had enough of starving and roughing it to last a lifetime when she was growing up, but she did backpack and climb when Stella twisted her arm.
Zahra narrowed her dark brown eyes. “What does that mean? Camping in one of your cabins? Or in a tent? What exactly are you saying? Because it’s cold at night now, or hadn’t you noticed?”
“Tents by the lake. I’ve got the perfect spot already picked out.”
Zahra slumped over the tabletop dramatically, burying her face in her arms, groaning. “You’re not right in the head, Stella. No one wants to camp in a tent anymore. You have a beautiful house. Cabins. We can go anywhere. Tents by the lake?” She lifted her head and glared at Stella. “Tell me now, you’re getting me back for that time I was supposed to hike the JMT with you and I thought I was sick and backed out.”
Stella rolled her eyes. “No one believed you were going to hike the trail with me, Zahra. I didn’t believe it for a minute. I did think you might summit Whitney because you always talk about it, but no way were you actually going to hike the trail, especially when I was going out for a month. And you weren’t sick.”
“I could have done it,” Zahra stated, salting the zucchini fries, not bothering to deny that she wasn’t sick.
Stella took the salt shaker from her. “Not only could you have done it, you would have been far better at it than me. You just don’t like inconveniencing yourself.”
“I like showers. And toilets,” Zahra pointed out. “There’s nothing wrong with that. People in their right minds like those things.”
Stella laughed and then looked up at the young waitress as she plopped two plates in front of them.
“I ordered for you,” Zahra explained. “You always order the same thing. You take fifteen minutes looking over the menu and then you order the exact same thing. It’s annoying.”
“Um, honey. That’s you. You do that. I don’t ever look at the menu.”
Zahra rolled her eyes and then laughed. “Okay, I’ll concede that’s the truth. I like looking because everything sounds so good. It’s the same shopping for clothes. You go in and you want to be in and out of a store immediately. I like to look for hours. I don’t have to buy anything, but I like to look. Shabina’s like me. So is Harlow, although she does like to buy. Her mom’s a buyer so I get that. Raine is more like you. Just get with the program, she does her research ahead of time. She’s back, by the way.”
Raine’s job was loosely titled programmer. She “sort of” worked for the government, if one could call it that. Raine didn’t. Raine was in that first circle of close friends with secrets, which meant they didn’t ask too much and she didn’t volunteer. She mostly worked for the Marine training base that was about a five-hour drive away from them. Raine was scary intelligent. Wicked smart. Sam had caught on to her right away, and that was saying something because Raine tended to stay quiet and observe. At one time she had programmed missiles when she was in the military, but she was out and now programmed with a code few understood or knew. At least, that was what Stella thought she did. Who really knew?
“Raine likes to camp,” Zahra said, twisting her fork around homemade noodles. “She would probably come with us.”
Right there, that was why Zahra would always be her best friend. She might not like camping in tents in the cold, but she would do it. Stella smiled at her. “You think she would want to come when she just got back from a trip?”
“Girls’ trip?” Zahra flashed her little mysterious smile that men found smoking hot. “Of course she’ll want to come. We always have fun. We can ask Shabina too. It’s short notice for her, but she might get someone to cover for her. She has a good staff now.”
“Harlow has to work tonight. I wanted them to come to the Grill with us and dance. I missed coffee with them this morning.”
Zahra shrugged and then closed her eyes, moaning as she ate a bite of her pasta. “I swear I would marry Shabina if I went that way. No one cooks the way she does.”
Stella had to agree with her. Shabina kept the menu small, with a few daily specials, but every single thing was perfection. “Vienna may be able to come out. I’ll text Harlow and Vienna and see if they can meet us late tonight. I can set up tents for them. If not, maybe tomorrow. I wanted to camp three days.”
She hoped three days would be long enough. If the timeline went the same as the other two times there had been nightmares heralding serial killers in her life, then the murderer would be looking to kill in the next two days. She would have a dream for five nights straight and then two days later, the body would be found. That was how it worked. In this case, she hoped to interrupt the killer with her girls’ camping trip—hopefully there would be enough of them camping that it would derail anyone looking for a quiet fishing spot.
“We won’t be far from the resort, so during the day you can have spa time while I’m working if there’s an emergency or something.” Stella felt the instant impact of Zahra’s gaze. The woman saw too much. Had known her too long. When Stella went camping, she checked out of work. Put her phone away. Didn’t want anyone to even talk work.
“I love your spa,” Zahra said. “But I’m bringing the tarot cards so each of you can find your inner guide to empower you. The reading will help you find wisdom and guidance to connect with your true self.”
Stella kept eating, refusing to look at her friend, who was very serious. She wasn’t talking about the other women in their circle, she was talking about Stella. She knew something was bothering Stella, and her way of helping was to give her a reading and let her work the problem through with her own guides. Who knew? Maybe it would help. At this point, she’d take whatever she could get.
“You’re going to bring the tarot cards and Vienna is going to want to play poker and take all of our money.” Stella flashed Zahra one emotion-laden look, showing her affection briefly, but changing the subject.
“She will. I think she cheats at cards, but I can’t ever catch her at it,” Zahra declared.
Stella burst out laughing. “Vienna would never cheat at cards, but she is a card sharp. A serious one. She goes to Vegas and plays in some of the large-stakes poker games there. She wins too. Our sweet little surgical nurse has teeth. She looks like a supermodel and no one takes her seriously and that’s a big, big mistake.”
Zahra looked up, her dark brows coming together in that way that was so adorable men usually fell at her feet, but she never noticed. Stella and the others always did and secretly laughed because she seemed so clueless.
“Card sharp? I haven’t heard this term, Stella, and I’ve been in this country for many years. I play cards.”
“You’re terrible at cards,” Stella pointed out, thinking terrible was generous. Zahra only played because everyone else wanted to play and she was a good sport about doing what th
e others chose to do. Like camping out by the lake when the temperature dropped because she knew Stella was going to do it whether she was alone or not. That was Zahra, loyal to a fault.
“I’m not terrible,” Zahra defended and then burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe I am, but poker is so boring. I have no idea what is going on half the time.” She took more bites of her pasta and did more moaning. “And I kick your ass if we’re playing Durak.”
“That’s true, because you like that game and you pay attention. Otherwise you chatter. Incessantly. I think you’re hoping to distract us, which doesn’t work.”
Zahra’s dark chocolate eyes went wide. “I absolutely do not chatter during cards.” She not only looked but sounded indignant.
Shabina slid onto the bench seat beside Zahra. “Yes, you do, ya mamma.” She always called Zahra little mamma, a term of endearment from Saudi Arabia that Shabina’s mother had called her. “But we all love it. You tell us the funniest stories.”
Stella burst out laughing at the expression on Zahra’s face. Zahra never thought of herself as funny. She got herself in trouble all the time but managed to get out of trouble as quickly as she got into it.
“We’re going to the Grill tonight for drinks and dancing and after, we’re camping out by the lake for three nights. I have time to set up tents for us,” Stella offered as a bribe. “I know it’s short notice, but I really need to get away. It’s not that far from the resort.” Which was still far for those living in town if they had to check on their businesses during the day.
“Definitely in for the Grill,” Shabina said readily. “Give me an hour to see if I can arrange for camping. If Vaughn can cover for me, I’m there. I could use a little downtime. And I can help set up tents. I should be off in another couple of hours.”
Zahra moaned again as she took another bite. That earned her a couple of very interested looks from the two men at the table across from them, which she missed entirely. Stella and Shabina exchanged knowing looks. They were used to Zahra and the way she attracted men. She couldn’t help it. She flirted outrageously and didn’t seem to notice she was flirting.
The other man magnet in their group was Vienna. She walked down the street and could cause a traffic jam. The difference was she was aware of it—she just didn’t care. She was extremely intelligent and very independent like all the women in the circle of friends. She worked out hard, did the same outdoor activities as the rest of them and they all swore that, like Zahra, she didn’t even sweat.
“Good grief, Zahra, if you keep making that sound, you’re going to get arrested for indecent exposure or something,” Stella warned.
Zahra burst out laughing. “I can’t help it. This pasta is that good.”
Shabina’s face lit up, her dark eyes shining. “That’s the nicest thing you could have said to me. A customer demanded his money back after eating the entire lunch, claiming it gave him an upset stomach and it was the worst meal he’d ever had.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Zahra was outraged. “I hope you didn’t refund his money, Shabina. He was just looking for a free meal. What an ass. Did you call the police?”
“He didn’t really cause a disturbance and when I asked him to leave, he did. It seems, though, he did call the police on me.” A slight flush slid under the beautiful dusky skin she’d inherited from her mother.
Stella sat back in the booth and regarded her carefully. “I don’t suppose a certain detective just happened to show up with a police officer to investigate the complaint. I wonder why that would be.”
“A detective investigates all sorts of crimes, including deliberately trying to poison customers, which, apparently, I tried to do,” Shabina pointed out, her chin lifting and her wealth of very black lashes feathering down to cover royal-blue eyes.
“He actually accused you of trying to poison him?” Stella said, the smile fading.
Shabina nodded. “Apparently Mr. Watson—that was the customer—is certain I am from Iran or Iraq or Afghanistan and have been planted here to get information, possibly on the Marine training center just down the road from us.”
“Just down the road?” Zahra echoed. “You mean five hours away? That training center?”
“Wait,” Stella said, frowning, looking up to meet Shabina’s eyes. “Sean Watson? Works for Fish and Wildlife? That doesn’t make any sense. Has he always given you trouble, Shabina? You must have crossed paths with him before this. We all know him.”
Shabina shrugged. “He asked me out a while back, but there was just something about the way he did it that bothered me. He’s attractive. Even my type. I thought about it, but I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, or maybe it was the way he worded it when he asked me. I can’t tell you exactly why I said no. It wasn’t even a hard no. I just said I couldn’t make it right then, that I’d have to take a rain check.”
“What did he do?” Zahra asked, her dark brown eyes wide with concern.
“He looked me up and down as if I were so beneath him. He had a sneer on his face, like he was really disgusted. He just turned around and walked away. After that, he would come into my café once a week and complain about the food. He’d usually send his lunch back at least twice. I tried to make certain I could slip out the back door if I saw him coming. If I wasn’t here, he just ate and left.” She hesitated. “Little things started happening about six months ago. Not often, about once a month or so. Someone took a spray can and wrote all over the outside of the café for me to go back to my country, whatever that means. I was born here. My mother isn’t even full Saudi Arabian. In any case, I reported it to the police and we put primer over it and painted that same morning.”
“You didn’t say a word,” Stella said.
“I know.” Shabina sighed. “It just left such a bad taste in my mouth. The other incidents were similar. Vandalism, mostly. I’ve installed more security cameras recently, both inside the café and outside. I asked Lawyer to help me. He installed the cameras for me and put the apps on my phone, iPad and computer to warn me if anyone came near the place.”
Zahra continued to frown, looking at Shabina with that same concern. “Why didn’t you contact Bale’s security company?”
“He’s friends with Sean Watson,” Stella answered for Shabina. “Remember, Bale dated Harlow for a short time about six months ago. She broke it off abruptly but never really said why. They only went on a couple of dates. Maybe we should ask her.”
“He asks her out all the time,” Shabina offered. “I’ve seen him messaging her. Mostly she ignores the messages, but sometimes she’ll type a reply and it’s very short. Once I asked her why she didn’t block him when he has to be driving her crazy with so many messages, and she just shrugged and said she really didn’t want to piss him off.”
Stella sat back and regarded Shabina’s face. She was a beautiful woman. Harlow was as well. They were very different in looks. Harlow was a fiery flame. Red hair, brilliant jade eyes. Freckles over her nose and across her high cheekbones that only added to her beauty. She was tall with long legs and she could move fast when she wanted, although she seemed to be always graceful, even in stiletto heels—training from being a senator’s daughter and having to attend endless fund-raisers, she laughingly told them.
“I’ve texted Harlow and Vienna to see if they can join us after their shifts tonight,” Stella said. “I’d love it if we could all get together. It’s so rare anymore.”
“You know, if we’re going to the Grill tonight, we can’t possibly go camping,” Zahra pointed out. “We’ll be drinking, and how will we get there?”
Stella sighed. “I’ll be the sober driver.”
“You can’t be the sober driver,” Shabina and Zahra said simultaneously and then burst out laughing.
Stella’s eyebrow went up. “What?”
“You’re hilarious when you’ve been drinking, and you hardly ever
drink,” Zahra pointed out. “We’re not missing out on that.”
“Well, I’m camping out tonight.”
“Text Sam and see if he’ll be our sober driver,” Zahra suggested with a small impish grin. “Or Denver. Either one would do it for you.”
“You’re so funny,” Stella said, aware of heat rising, the blush starting somewhere low and moving through her body toward her face. “You’re such a demon. We’re only going to the Grill because you want to see Bruce.”
“It’s because they make the best Moscow Mules,” Zahra corrected. “And I like to dance.”
Shabina laughed. “And you like to ogle Bruce and all his muscles.”
Zahra rolled her eyes and shrugged. “He’s really tall so there’s room for a lot of muscle, but he doesn’t talk.”
“In my experience,” Shabina said, “that can be a good thing. The less talk, the more action. Don’t you want action, Zahra?”
Zahra sighed. “He has to start somewhere, like asking me out. He can barely ask me to dance. I think we’re having this great time and then he just walks away and we’re back at square one. As long as he’s around, no one else will ask me out because he glowers at them.”
“That’s not all he does,” Shabina said. “I heard him threaten some dirtbag to leave you alone or he was taking him outside, and he meant it too.”
Zahra sat up straight. “He did what? He can’t do that. Was someone going to ask me to dance?”
Stella nudged her under the table with her foot. “I remember that night. The guy wouldn’t leave you alone no matter how many times you told him to get off you. He kept trying to freak dance you. Bruce pulled him off and had a little chat with him. That was the last we saw of him on the dance floor.”
Zahra looked mollified. “Well, I guess that’s all right, then.” She looked up as another woman joined them, pushing into Stella’s side of the table. “Raine. You found us.”
“Where else would you be? Best food. Best coffee. Makes sense.” Raine nudged Stella. “Camping tonight? After the Grill?”