A Hot Flash of Homicide: Flamingo Cove Book One

by Dawn Dugle

  ∞∞∞

  We dragged ourselves into my house and headed towards the shower, leaving a trail of clothes in our wake. I was beyond caring about it at this point, only wanting to wash the dirt and debris off of me. The hot water felt good on my muscles that had once again been battered by an explosion.

  When we got into bed, Luke pulled me closer and wrapped his arms and legs around me.

  "Um, Luke?"

  "Yes?"

  "You are like a furnace right now and I'm too hot to stay like this."

  "Just let me hold you for a little bit," he gripped me tighter.

  "I'm not going anywhere." My cheek rested against his chest and I didn't move.

  "I know."

  "Your eagle eye saved our lives tonight."

  "I know."

  I smiled. "And you're modest and handsome."

  "I know," he said but then laughed and pulled away to look at me. "I was scared for the first time tonight."

  "I'm sure you've been around explosions before. Hell, you had your storage units rigged to blow up if the wrong person came calling."

  "This was different."

  "How different?"

  "You were there."

  "Yes, and thanks to the appetizers and dessert, I have a lot of cushioning on my body for when you fall on top of me," I laughed, but he had a very serious look on his face.

  "I could have lost you tonight."

  My heart sped up as I looked into his different-colored eyes. "But you didn't."

  "But I could have."

  "But you didn't."

  "You have become very important to me Wysdom. I can't imagine life without you," his voice cracked.

  I touched his face and kissed him. "Life without me would be way too boring. So, don't even think about it."

  "I'd probably get blown up less though," he said thoughtfully.

  "At least we didn't get shot at, but the weekend is still young, " I offered.

  "That's not funny."

  I pulled back and sat up. "Sit up and look at me, Luke. I don't know what this thing is between us, but there is a definite pull. A chemistry. It's not just that you are a God Among Men and smoking hot, but it's something deeper."

  "I agree. Like something inside of us recognizes the other."

  "Right."

  "Like your soul."

  "Wait... what?"

  Luke smiled. "I think we could be soul mates."

  "Ah... maybe?"

  Luke smiled bigger.

  "Fine. Let's call it that for right now. Soul... mate. Nope, not sure I can say it out loud without gagging," I punched him in the shoulder.

  "Soul mate. Soul mate. Soul mate. It's not that hard to say."

  "Probably because you're a romantic," I winked at him. "I'm not."

  "You're plenty romantic."

  "Horny, maybe. Romantic? Not so much. I haven't had a lot of romance in my life. My one big relationship ended because he said I wanted too much sex from him. Which, I must say, seems like a really stupid thing, coming from a man."

  "He's a pretty stupid man to begin with."

  "No argument there." I grabbed Luke's hand and kissed his knuckles where he punched my ex in the face. "But I've never thought I would wind up with Prince Charming and live happily ever after. And the older I got, I didn't think it was in the cards for me."

  "You're only 40. You're not dead yet," Luke stroked my cheek.

  "Nope."

  "And we're soul mates."

  "Quite possibly."

  "How about this, why don't you let me worry about the romance, and you be the horn dog in our relationship?" He beamed at me.

  I couldn't help myself, and fell back on the bed laughing. He joined me and we laid there, staring at the ceiling laughing until our sides hurt. Well, hurt even more than they did after being flung to the pavement after an explosion. Eventually, the laughter stopped and we got quiet. It was nice, laying there with him in the silence. I had some things I needed to get clear with him before we moved forward, but I knew tonight was not the time for that.

  I reached out and laced my fingers with his. We fell asleep that way, holding hands.

  ∞∞∞

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  FRIDAY

  The next morning, I woke up to the most amazing smell, my morning latte being brewed. And I knew when I went into the kitchen, I'd find the most amazing man fixing it up. It was like the movie Groundhog Day. But if I had to relive this part of my day over and over, I would gladly do it.

  "Good morning," I said, slipping onto a stool on the island.

  Luke poured the steamed milk into my mug and brought me the latte, kissing me on the cheek. "Good morning."

  I took a sip. "You better be careful, I'm already getting used to being treated like a princess in the morning."

  "You deserve it," Luke grinned as he pulled out the fixings for bacon and eggs.

  "Yes. But before you get crackin', we need to get a few things straight," I patted the stool next to me. "Come sit next to me."

  Luke sat down. "That doesn't sound ominous or anything."

  "It's not. You said a few things last night that I want to talk about in the light of day. Listen, The bombing was scary, and when we came back here, you talked about how the explosion was different because I was involved. You were worried about my safety, and I really appreciate that. But we were both a little bit in shock, and there is something you need to know. And I want you to be crystal clear about it. So, listen up, okay?"

  Luke nodded. I continued.

  "When we met, you asked me if I loved what I do for a living. The truth is, I'm not sure most days. I joined the police force to make my dad happy, but I also wanted to help people. The helping people, above everything else, is why I keep going back every day. I went through pretty tough training to make sure I could handle just about anything that was thrown my way. I keep training, because situations today aren't like they were twenty years ago, and I want to stay sharp.

  "I'm not a delicate flower who crumbles at the first sign of distress. I don't throw up my hands and run screaming in the opposite direction. If anything, when there's danger, I run towards it to see if I can help. I think you might understand that, being a former Marine."

  "I do," he nodded for me to continue.

  "I haven't dated all that much since the divorce. Most of the men I've met didn't understand it at all. The ones who pretended they did - and I stress pretended - were only doing it until they could convince me to quit. They probably knew me the least of all."

  "Because you wouldn't quit, just because they asked," Luke finished.

  "Exactly. I might quit for the right man, but the right man wouldn't ask me to quit."

  Luke started to get up, but I held up my hand.

  "Luke, you may be my Mr. Right and as much as I thought that might scare the bejeezus out of me, I'm actually quite calm about it. We have a lot in common, and we compliment each other pretty well. It feels right. But there is one thing I need to be crystal clear about: You won't be able to protect me from everything bad in this world, no matter how much you might want to. I need a partner, someone who will be at my side. There are going to be days you need to go through the scary door first. Other days, I'll bust through, and you need to accept that, because.... I'm not asking for your permission."

  I paused and looked at him. Luke just smiled at me. "I wouldn't want you to ask me for permission for anything, except maybe driving my Porsche."

  "Good," I smiled at him, then did a double take. "Your Porsche?"

  He nodded and stood up, moving closer to me. "Wysdom, you have an unwavering passion for doing the right thing, even if it goes against the grain in your family. I love that fire inside of you, and I wouldn't dream of trying to extinguish that. I won't stop wanting you to be safe, and I will always want to go through the big scary door first. BUT - I hear you what you're saying. I respect you. If that means you bust down the door first, then I won't grind my teeth about it, mi am
or."

  I put my arms around his neck and kissed him. "See? Not ominous at all."

  "Can I at least drive you to work today?" Luke asked. When I gave him some side eye, he said: "I don't have a car, remember? It got blown up and is currently part of a crime scene."

  "You want to borrow my 12-year-old car when you have a Porsche somewhere in the world," I looked at him suspiciously.

  "I'm technically still under cover, and I need to go pick up some clothes and supplies. Your car is a little more under the radar than the roadster. Plus, I need to find a new place to live," he moved back towards his prep area. "What would you like for breakfast? Omelette? Eggs Benedict? How was your latte? Can I throw some laundry in the wash while you're gone? Maybe run the vacuum in the living room?"

  I shook my head. "Sweet Oprah. You're shameless."

  "What?" He feigned innocence.

  "I see what you're doing there."

  He smirked. "Is it working?"

  I put my hands on my hips, cocked my head and arched an eyebrow. Waiting.

  Luke surrendered. "Fine. I would feel better if I stayed here until your murder investigation wraps up."

  "Wow, I know the guy a few days, and already he's moving in!" I threw up my hands in mock protest.

  Luke grabbed me around the waist and picked me up, kissing me square on the mouth. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

  No. No it wouldn't.

  ∞∞∞

  In the end, I allowed Luke to drive me to work and borrow my car. He also called his friend and put a rush on the surveillance cameras outside my cottage.

  I walked into the squad room and everyone hustled up to see how I was doing and see if I would gossip about what went down in the command center last night. (I wouldn't.)

  When I finally got to the conference room, Tripp and Diana were already on their laptops and Bodie was finishing up a call.

  Tripp hopped up and pulled out a chair for me: "What are you doing here?"

  "I need to be doing something, and I'm tired of getting blown up," I joked.

  "Hey partner, you look terrible!" Bodie said as he hung up the phone.

  "Thanks. You too," I winked at him and he gave me his latte. "And you're forgiven!"

  "I just got off the phone with Vern Reddy. He said Claire wasn't going through menopause. She apparently had a complete hysterectomy in her thirties and went through menopause all at once then," he reported.

  Tripp asked what menopause had to do with anything and I explained the time of death situation.

  We also talked about what we learned at Midnight Louise's that Seth may have been burning evidence in the nearby forest. I had reached my ranger friend earlier and asked for his help combing through the area for illegal campfire evidence. He would call me the minute they found anything.

  "As for the explosion at Nelson's, it was a mess," Diana said, pulling out the report from the bomb squad. "It was made from a pressure cooker that was loaded with nails and other metal to do the most damage possible."

  "Where was it placed?" I asked.

  "Right inside the front door," Diana responded. "It was remotely triggered by a cell phone. Thank goodness you were well back from the center of the blast when it did. There is shrapnel embedded in homes all around Nelson's place."

  I shuddered to think about what would have happened if Luke hadn't been so vigilant, but it didn't make any sense. "Luke said there were scratch marks around the brand new lock on the front door. It seems odd to me that someone would use the front door to plant a bomb."

  "Maybe it's someone who wouldn't stick out in that neighborhood?" Bodie suggested.

  "Maybe."

  "We're canvassing right now," Tripp said. "But neighbors didn't see much. It was pretty dark at the time."

  "What about his security cameras? He had just gotten those installed earlier in the day?" I asked.

  "Gone. The cameras and the hard drive that records any movement were all destroyed in the explosion. And apparently that system only uploads images to the cloud server once every half hour. Whomever planted the bomb did it within a half hour of you guys arriving at his house," Diana said. "This wasn't amateur hour."

  I sat back and thought about it. Someone would have to known we were on our way back to the house, which means they had to have known where we were before that.

  "We need to check the security cameras at Bellissimo. We went there for dinner and the place was packed. I didn't see anyone that stuck out to me, but then again, I wasn't looking for anyone," I shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

  Diana was about to make a call to a judge to get a warrant, when I told her I'd call the owner and see if he would share the footage with us. She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything about it. Her bad cop was rising closer to the surface every day. I really hoped I was there when Lady Bad Cop showed up.

  "Bomb techs did find something stamped into the pressure cooker that housed the bomb," Diana pulled a photograph out of the file and handed it to me. It was a picture of a piece of metal with a sword stamped into it, next to a lion. "We checked with the manufacturer of this particular brand and that is not their logo or anything they put on their cookers."

  I tilted my head. "It looks like a sword... or... a saber? Is this a saber? Maybe a message to Luke?"

  "It's actually a scimitar," Tripp looked up from his laptop and turned it around to show me the difference between the two. "A saber is a much longer sword than a scimitar. And we have no idea if this all fits with the Rousseau murder. It feels like a whole lotta' nothin' that we cannot connect together."

  Bodie nodded. "It's a lot of circumstantial evidence at best, and still no crime scene."

  "Where are you with your interviews?" My brother asked.

  "Well, we still need to talk to the manager of the country club about the fight Claire had earlier this month," I said. "We can head out there this morning, since he's on duty, then stop at Bellissimo on the way back for the video footage."

  "Sounds good," Tripp nodded. "Keep your phones on.”

  ∞∞∞

  Bodie got behind the wheel of the car, turned the key and headed out of the parking lot without saying a word. We drove for five minutes before I couldn't stand the silence anymore. "What?"

  "What?" He asked me.

  "Why are you giving me the silent treatment?"

  "I'm not giving you the silent treatment."

  "Then what would you call this?"

  "My mama said if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

  I looked over at him and frowned. "And what are the not nice things you want to say to me."

  Bodie jerked the wheel and swerved into a gas station parking lot, shifted the car into park and unbuckled his seatbelt, turning to look at me. "Wysdom Ward! Don't you ever do that to me again!"

  "I'm confused."

  "You could have been killed," he started.

  "But I wasn't."

  "But you could have."

  "Oh my GOD! What is it with the men in my life!" I yelled. My PMI just went to 11 on a scale of one to ten. "Sweet Oprah! Y'all just think I'm some sort of breakable little flower that you should keep in a hermetically sealed room so I won't wilt or come to any harm. That's not how this job works!"

  "But still.."

  I glared at him and he wisely shut up. "Now you listen to me, Officer Davis! I have been doing this job for half my life. I was trained by the best officers in the state of Florida and I can flip a man like a cheese omelette if I need to. At any given time, I'm carrying at least two weapons and have no hesitation WHAT-SO-EVER about using said weapons to take down a threat. And most recently, I was diagnosed with perimenopause, which means that I am always hot and about two seconds away from throat punching the next guy who tries to MANSPLAIN anything to me. Am I making myself clear?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Good!" I yelled for good measure.

  "I was just worried," he leaned over and hugged me. I can't remember if Bodie ever
hugged me, and that answer was probably 'no' being his sergeant and all, but I understood why he was upset. I patted his arm a couple of times before he finally let me go.

  "Feel better?" I asked.

  Bodie nodded, and without another word took us to the country club.

  ∞∞∞

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  There's a reason the state of Florida is known as God's Waiting Room. There's no state income tax, the sales tax is low and the sunshine is abundant, meaning retirees can golf and play tennis, year-round. Not all retirees lived here 365 days a year. We have what we call "snowbirds". Those are the older folks who still had a house in whatever northern clime they came from - Wisconsin, New York, Indiana - and also had a condo or house down here. When the weather turned colder up north, they hit the road and flocked toward their winter home, like birds.

  There's usually one weekend in October where one minute, the area is normal. The next minute, we're surrounded by RVs and travel trailers as our seasonal neighbors return to town. They clog up the restaurants, take up the tee times on the golf course and usually complain about everything. The snowbirds remain in Florida until a mass exodus in the spring, generally right around Easter, and the entire area breathes a collective sigh of relief.

  The Flamingo Cove Country Club was built before retirement communities with amenities for "active seniors" became a thing. They have an 18-hole golf course that was designed by golf legend Bunky Edwards. It was meticulously manicured and every other year became a stop on the PGA tour. The country club also boasted 20 tennis and eight pickle ball courts, a gym, a spa, and a 2-star Michelin restaurant - something that was unheard of in the country club world.

  Bodie and I walked into a wide foyer that was three stories tall. The focal point was a crystal chandelier that looked more like a pillar, running from the ceiling all the way down to the floor. The sunlight coming in the front windows hit the crystals and sent rainbows dancing all around the walls. Soft velvet settees and leather club chairs were set up around the main entrance, creating conversation spaces, but the place was empty at the moment. It was only 10:30, the "ladies who lunch" wouldn't be there for another hour, looking for their Cobb salads and chardonnay, with a side of gossip.