Shaved

by Gina LaManna

  The only thing new about Samuel’s place was the shiny red Hummer taking up the majority of the front lawn. The thing looked like it could survive the zombie apocalypse without breaking a sweat. The tires alone came up to my waist.

  I climbed the rickety wooden steps to the front door and knocked. I turned impatiently around, catching sight of Meg’s head as it bobbed up and down behind the car as she made one trip after another toward the trunk of Carlos’s vehicle. She’d have a small army of fruit by the time I finished with Samuel at the rate she was going.

  “Hello,” a gruff voice drawled. “Who’s there? Whaddaya want?”

  My attention shifted between the peeling yellow-painted exterior walls to find a man—probably Samuel—leaning against the doorway. He was skinny as a rail, wore no clothing save for a pair of sweat pants, and had a rack of tattoos that ran up the side of his torso. His eyes were rimmed red, and his hands were shaking.

  “Hi there,” I said. “Are you Sam?”

  “Sam Hale,” he said. “Who’s asking?”

  “Lacey Luzzi,” I said, and then extended my hand. “I’m here investigating the death of May Kalani. I have it on good authority that you were her boyfriend?”

  His face closed off at once. “Yeah. What about it? Why is there an investigation? I thought it was an accident.”

  “That’s what some people think,” I said. “But my services have been retained by an anonymous client.”

  “You don’t smell like a cop,” he said, and then sniffed. “And you don’t dress like one, either. Plus, you’re not from around here.”

  He dragged a hand across his nose, and I guessed he was either high on something, or he’d spent the night crying.

  “No, I’m not,” I said. “But I am fairly well known in my profession.”

  “As what?” he asked, dragging his eyes down my attire. “A stripper?”

  “That was a long time ago,” I said. “And no. I’m here with my investigative company.”

  “You have a badge?” he asked. “A warrant?”

  “No,” I said. “And I’m not here on official business, either. I’m helping out a friend.”

  “Who asked you to help out?” he asked, stepping closer. “Was it Rachel? Stupid Rachel. I knew she’d get her hands dirty in this. Or that sister of hers. May’s sister has been a pain in my butt since we met.”

  “Um, no, neither of them. And like I said, I won’t be sharing my source,” I said. “While I might not have a badge, I’m only here to ask you a few questions. I’d think you’d want to find out what happened to your girlfriend...wouldn’t you?”

  “I know what happened to her,” Sam said. “That’s why I’m all messed up like this. I’ve been angry and upset all night. I’m not looking my best.”

  “Maybe not,” I said, “but if you talk to me, you could help.”

  “The cops keep saying it was an accident.”

  “Explain to me how a bomb is an accident.” I watched him carefully. “There was an explosive device on May’s cleaning cart. The only possible accident is who it hit... not the fact that it was there.”

  “But the police...”

  “Think about it,” I said. “Don’t you want to know who’s responsible for planting the bomb in the first place?”

  “No! All of this is so unfair!” He punched the wall, snarling with anger. His eyes, already red-rimmed, looked to be boiling with frustration. “Knowing isn’t going to bring her back.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I offered. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. How long had the two of you been dating?”

  “Me and May go way back,” he said. “Way, way back. It’s sort of complicated, but overall, we’ve been on and off for, like, seven years.”

  “What’s the latest time period that the two of you were together?”

  “A month or two?” When he spoke, it sounded like a question. He glanced at my confused face. “Look, sometimes we hooked up even when we weren’t dating. It’s hard to say for certain when we decided to become official.”

  “Do you have any reason to believe someone wanted May dead?” I asked. “Anyone at all who had a grudge against her?”

  “May was the sweetest thing,” he said. “She grew up around these parts and never wanted to leave. Her parents have both passed, God rest their souls, but her sister is still here.”

  “It sounds like you don’t get along with May’s sister.”

  “She doesn’t approve of me,” he said, making a rude gesture with his arms. “I don’t know why. Probably because she’s all hoity toity, and I’m not rich enough. I don’t go to a normal 9-5, but I make do. I mean, check out my wheels.”

  “It’s hard to miss them,” I said dryly. “Seeing as they nearly go up to my chest.”

  Sam nodded proudly.

  “What exactly do you do?”

  “This and that,” he said. “I don’t gotta answer anything I don’t want to—you don’t have a badge, and I know my rights.”

  “Fine,” I said. “You mentioned another woman. Rachel?”

  Sam’s face colored, and he held a hand over his mouth as he coughed. “Yeah. What about her?”

  “Didn’t sound like you thought highly of her, either.”

  “She’s May’s co-worker,” Sam said. “That’s all.”

  I sensed that wasn’t all, but I could only push so far before Sam threw me off his front porch. I’d have to look into Rachel on my own time. “Is there anyone else you can think of who might have wanted to see May dead?”

  “No, and I’m done talking to you. Leave me to mourn in peace.”

  “Thanks—” I started, but I ran out of time to respond because he slammed the door in my face.

  I turned around and found Meg standing across the road, grinning at me, her arms full of papayas. “Will you look at all this free food?” she marveled. “It’s like money on a tree. What do you think about moving here?”

  Chapter 5

  We made it back to the hotel, miraculously returning Carlos’s car in one piece—save for the somewhat weighty trunk. I wasn’t sure how Meg had managed to cram so many papayas inside of it during the short time I’d spent interviewing Sam, but it was enough to have me wondering if our gas mileage had suffered.

  “What do you plan on doing with all of the fruit in the trunk?” I asked as I parked and climbed from the vehicle. I eyed the trunk warily, somewhat afraid to pop it open for fear of what might come out.

  “There’s a little too much to unload all in one go, so I vote we leave it there,” Meg said. “I’ll get it later.”

  “I’m not sure Carlos will be thrilled to find it there.”

  “Sure he will,” Meg said. “It’s papaya. What’s not to love? In fact, I’ll just let you explain to Carlos how it got there while I go find Clay.”

  Before I could argue, Meg buzzed off in search of her groom, and I was stuck holding the keys and trudging into the hotel to face my grandfather. I took the elevator up to his floor, trying on different explanations for size. None of them seemed to fit.

  When I reached my grandparents’ hotel room, I leaned forward to knock. I’d barely touched the wooden door before it was flung open from the inside.

  “Carlos?” I asked. “That was fast. Is everything okay?”

  “None of this is my fault,” he said. He looked mildly panicked.

  “None of what?”

  Carlos stepped back from the door. “See for yourself.”

  I stepped into the room slowly. The first thing I noticed was the steady pulse of a relaxing, even beat radiating from every direction. Music flowed from the speakers with an exotic sort of trill as I swiveled my gaze and found my grandmother and daughter dressed in matching outfits.

  I cleared my throat. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Nora glanced up, smiled. “I’m teaching Bella how to do the Hula.”

  My lips parted in surprise. Suddenly, the tiny little coconuts strapped to Bella made a little more sen
se, as did the tiny little grass skirt. Nora boasted slightly bigger coconuts across her chest, and a slightly bigger grass skirt on her hips.

  “She’s six months old,” I pointed out.

  “Exactly.” Nora gave me a meditative, calm smile while swinging her hips from side to side and swaying with Bella. “That means her brain is ripe to learn new things.”

  “Yes, like the word ‘mama’ or where her nose is located,” I said. “She’s not cut out for a career in dancing yet. She can’t even stand on her own two feet.”

  “Maybe not, but she’s fantastically limber.”

  “Well, yeah.” I said. “She has her feet in her mouth half the day.”

  “Relax, Lacey.” My grandmother tilted one way, then the next, in movements that matched the music. “Don’t you think it would be so fun to have a flash dance mob at Meg’s wedding?”

  “Usually those flash-dance things are loud, and energetic, and choreographed,” I pointed out. “They also involve blending into the crowd. Sorry, but you don’t blend in anywhere looking like that.”

  “Well, I think Meg would like it,” Nora said. “And Bella agrees with me. So does Carlos, don’t you, dear?”

  I now understood Carlos’s warning. He gave me a somewhat sheepish glance as he shrugged, then turned his eyes back to Nora and her coconuts. He didn’t seem to mind the attire all that much, which was somewhat disturbing.

  “Traitor.” I hissed in his direction.

  His eyes snapped up towards me. “Did my car make it back in one piece?”

  “Traitor.” I hissed again, “Your car has been returned with one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “Please don’t open the trunk.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Carlos asked. “It’s a rental. You’re not supposed to dispose of...messes in the trunk.”

  “It’s not all that messy,” I said through gritted teeth. “Just ignore the problem and it will probably go away.”

  My grandfather raised one eyebrow and accepted the keys as I handed them over. Knowing Carlos’s history, he was probably the only grandfather in the world who would be relieved to find his trunk full of papayas instead of something far, far worse. I could only imagine the things he’d seen shoved in trunks.

  “How did you get Bella away from Anthony, anyway?” I asked. “I thought he was going to spend quality one-on-one time with his daughter.”

  “We decided to share.” Nora said simply. “Anthony was very agreeable.”

  I suspected there was more to the story, but I didn’t need to know the details all that bad. Instead, I reached for Bella and pulled my little hula baby from my grandmother’s arms. “I’ll handle things from here. It’s time to eat and go down for a nap, isn’t it, princess?”

  “Why don’t I come by your hotel room this evening?” Nora lifted her finger as if she’d had an epiphany. “I can watch her while you and Anthony have a romantic evening to yourselves!”

  “Anthony and I don’t need a romantic evening to ourselves.” I said with a toss of my hair. “We have plenty of romance in our lives as is.”

  “Then why doesn’t Bella have a little brother or sister yet?”

  I took my time in swallowing and tried to find a proper response. Nora waited patiently.

  “Not only would that be physically impossible, seeing as my daughter is six months old, but we’re not ready,” I informed her. “Thanks again for your help, but I think we can handle it from here for the rest of the evening.”

  “When you change your mind,” Nora called after me, “let me know.”

  I began the trek toward my room, thinking Anthony had some serious explaining to do considering I’d come home to find Bella in a grass skirt, but before I could start the Anthony Inquisition, I overheard a voice coming from one of the hotel rooms off the hallway that stopped me cold.

  “I’m sorry, Rachel.” A man’s voice spoke from inside one of the nearby rooms, not sounding very sorry at all. “I’m expecting you to stay late tonight. The incident yesterday has thrown everything off, and I don’t have a choice.”

  “I can’t stay late tonight!” A female voice, probably belonging to Rachel, sounded agitated as she answered. “I’m not on the schedule, and I can’t cover. I can help out any other day of the week, but—”

  “If you want to keep your job,” the man interrupted, “you’ll stay. That’s all.”

  I buzzed with the realization that this was probably the very same Rachel that Sam had mentioned during his interview. May’s colleague, he’d said.

  There was definitely more to the story than what Sam had told me. Most normal people didn’t get upset at the mention of their girlfriend’s colleague for no reason at all. Maybe Sam had a personal beef with Rachel, or maybe he was merely suspicious of Rachel’s relationship with May. Maybe it was a combination of the two—but it was hard to guess from the outside.

  There was one way I could find out...

  I pretended to look at a piece of very confusing artwork while the man who’d pressured Rachel into staying late after her shift finished his tirade. Finally, he barreled out of the room, brows knitted in annoyance, without a glance over his shoulder at myself and Bella.

  I watched him go, thinking the manager didn’t look all that upset at the loss of one of his employees. He seemed more irritated at the wrench May’s death had thrown into his scheduling duties. Nice guy.

  I waited until boss-man had disappeared down the hallway before I shifted my spy-in-training higher on my hip and peeked around the door. Bella kept her gurgles to a minimum as if she understood exactly what was going on, and I wondered if she had a strong streak of her father’s natural instincts in her blood. It was a terrifying thought.

  The door to the hotel room sat open, and Rachel leaned against the sink, staring into the mirror as she took deep breaths. She looked a combination of overwhelmed and frustrated.

  “Excuse me,” I said as I knocked on the open door. “Is it okay if I grab an extra shampoo bottle? Seems my room might have been missing one this morning.”

  “Oh, sorry about that.” The pretty young woman looked up, gave a hurried smile, and nodded. “Go ahead, help yourself. Whatever you need. Things are a bit chaotic at the hotel today.”

  “That’s what I heard,” I said apologetically. “Actually, I was there yesterday.”

  “What do you mean?” Rachel looked up, a wave of curiosity passing over her face.

  “Well, the explosion.” I said, “That’s what you’re talking about, right? It blew up the room right next to mine.”

  “Oh, yes. Tragic.” Another cloud passed across her face, but I couldn’t tell if it was bitterness, sadness, or something else entirely. “Your baby is very adorable.”

  I noted the swift change of subject but let it fly. “Thanks! My grandma’s trying to teach her how to hula. The fact that she’s not even a year old is completely lost on her.”

  “Grandmothers.” Rachel sympathized with a good-natured chuckle.

  “Do you have any kids?”

  “Oh, no. I’m not married. Not that it means I can’t have kids,” she said with a stifled guffaw, “but no, I’m not in a relationship, nor do I have any children.”

  Her eyes shot toward the ground, and I wondered if I’d stumbled into sensitive territory. Rachel seemed uninclined to explain further. Instead, she reached for a spray bottle and began squirting the mirror she’d already cleaned.

  “Sorry to eavesdrop, but when I was walking by, I heard your boss making you work overtime. I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “You must be short staffed now. It’s so sad that a woman was killed in the blast.”

  “Yes, like I said, tragic.”

  “You must have known her, right?” I pressed, shifting Bella’s weight to my other hip. “I mean she was a maid here, so you would have been colleagues.”

  “Yes, we were both employees of the hotel, but we weren’t very close. We just showed up and did our jobs, which is what I�
�m trying to do now. If you’ll excuse me.”

  The air between us had noticeably cooled. Her responses were becoming chillier by the second. I cinched Bella a bit closer as I wondered if it was possible that Rachel was behind the bomb. I had no motive for her—yet—but it would have been easy enough for her to slip the materials into May’s cleaning cart. She’d have known how to time the detonation so there were no witnesses.

  Whether she was involved in the explosion or not, there was definitely something off between Rachel and May. I debated my next move and decided to jump right in to the hard-hitting questions. Tip-toeing around small talk wasn’t getting me anywhere, and I could already sense Rachel closing herself off completely.

  “You should know,” I said slowly, “I spoke to Sam. May’s boyfriend.”

  Rachel’s head snapped up and her gaze landed on me. A flash of fury tore across her face before she had time to get her surprise under control. “You did what? I mean...” She cleared her throat. “Who did you talk to?”

  Bingo, I thought.

  I’d suspected Sam was the connection between the three of them, but now I was convinced I’d found the pain point between May and Rachel.

  “Sam.” I said, “May’s boyfriend. I assume you know him because he knew you. He mentioned you during the interview.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  I shrugged. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  “What was your name again?”

  “I didn’t say,” I said. “I’m Lacey. I’m investigating May’s death.”

  “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do,” she said, vigorously rubbing the mirror down with a towel. “I am not interested in talking to you. Are you the police?”

  “No, but I have been hired to look into the possibility of May being murdered. You don’t have to talk to me, but from where I stand, you’re not exactly looking innocent,” I pointed out. “There’s clearly some beef between you and Sam, and probably between May as well. You have easy access to May’s things and could have planted a bomb without anyone knowing.”

  “And why would I do that?” She straightened and turned a hard look on me. “What motive do I have to kill her?”