Shaved

by Gina LaManna

  “Anthony,” I gasped into the phone. “I need to meet you down at the spa. I mean, I need you to meet me down at the spa. The waxing area. There’s a killer on the loose!”

  Then I hung up as Meg raised a gun she’d pulled from her purse to point it at Rachel. “Hold it right there, missy.”

  “Meg, don’t kill her,” I said. “Anthony will be here in a second.”

  “She interrupted my wax,” Meg said. “I don’t appreciate that. Now I’ll be uneven, and that’s just rude. It’s my wedding week.”

  “Why do you have a gun?” Rachel asked, squinting through gunk. “It’s not allowed on hotel property.”

  “You’re one to talk, you knife-wielding lunatic!” Meg said. “I’m bridezilla. I’m allowed to do what I want. And it’s common sense to take a gun to your wax appointment!”

  “Rachel, put the knife down,” I said. “We don’t want to hurt you. We can work out an arrangement.”

  “No,” she said, sucking in a breath. “It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.”

  With that declaration, she moved toward me with the knife in front of her like in a high school fencing match, jabbing it at my gut. I moved away just in time, throwing myself to the floor as Meg fired the gun.

  She missed wildly, lodging the bullet into the head of the wax table, and looked down at her gun as if it was the thing’s fault. “Whoops. Idiot gun. I knew I shouldn’t have bought it second hand.”

  “Meg!” I called. “A little help!”

  Rachel had recovered quicker than Meg, and she was currently playing a game of whack-a-mole with my legs as she jabbed the knife at me, missing as I yelped and danced away from her. The clink-clink-clink of the knife hitting the floor grated against my ears.

  “That’s it, woman,” Meg said, and launched herself at Rachel.

  Meg tackled the maid full on, the pair landing on the floor with a giant whoosh of air expelling from both of their lungs. The knife clattered away, and I ran after it and gave it a solid punt through the doorway.

  Then I picked up Meg’s phone and quickly redialed Anthony. “I think we’ve got the situation contained for now,” I said. “So, could you please run back up to the room and grab me some pants?”

  “Um—” Anthony hesitated. “What?”

  “Pants,” I said. “Please. Or maybe shorts. Loose shorts. Or how about a robe? Yes, I think a robe would be best.” I remembered Olga’s lesson to wear loose clothing. “Thanks, sweetie.”

  Meg glanced up from her place on the floor. Rachel struggled weakly against her, but now that Meg had the small woman pinned beneath her weight, Rachel’s struggles were futile. “So, what’d you think?”

  “Of what?” I gasped.

  “The wax,” Meg said. “Nice, huh?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I would have preferred not to have someone try to murder me during it.”

  “Beauty is pain,” Meg said with a good-natured cluck and a shake of her head. “Beauty is pain, chickadee. Just wait until we get those brows tweezed.”

  Chapter 12

  “Switch!” I called to Anthony. “Mayday, mister. Mayday!”

  Anthony jogged in from the other room, his face pinched with sympathy. “Here you are, princess.”

  I rolled my eyes as I handed him the warm ice pack and retrieved the cold one from his grasp. I placed it over the front of my robe and sighed as cool relief reached the wax site. “I did this for you, you know.”

  “Me?” Anthony’s eyebrows raised. “When have I ever asked you to get a wax?”

  “Olga said it would be freeing,” I groaned. “She said we’d both love it.”

  “I’m sure we will, sugar.” Anthony leaned forward to kiss my forehead, and I flinched.

  “Too soon,” I said. “Don’t touch me. I’m sore all over.”

  “Yes, well, that’s probably from fighting off a crazed killer, and not so much the wax.”

  “Don’t tell me where I hurt, Anthony! I had to put antiseptic in places that should never see antiseptic.”

  “I’m sure—”

  “That’s all,” I said with a flick of my wrist. “You may leave us.”

  Anthony looked like he had tried and failed to hide a smile, and he left Bella and I to stare dumbly at the television set. Elsa’s face took up the entire screen as we watched Frozen for the nine hundred and eighty-seventh time in Bella’s six months of life.

  After Anthony had arrived downstairs at the spa with Bella, he’d handed off both my pants and the baby and taken control of Rachel. She’d had some time to cool down and had gone pure silent. A cold, calculated silence that was just as eerie as her knife-wielding rage.

  Bella and I had come upstairs and promptly collapsed in bed to watch a Disney flick while Anthony took care of the logistics in getting Rachel into police custody. The cops had questioned me briefly under Anthony’s watchful eye, and thankfully, they kept things short. Anthony promised me that by the time the police had left, they had enough to lock Rachel away for good. Or at least the duration of our trip and then some.

  When Rachel had been carted off and Anthony returned upstairs, he’d jumped into the role of Mr. Nurse with ease. He switched out ice packs. Brought me food. Fed me grapes one by one. Ordered me a hamburger. Then an ice cream sundae. Because waxing and fighting made me hungry, and Anthony had a lot of making up to do—even if none of this was his fault.

  “Lacey?” Anthony stuck his head into the bedroom from the living area looking mildly terrified. “Can I come in?”

  I softened and gave him a friendly beckon closer. “Sorry if I seem crabby, it’s just—”

  “I get it,” Anthony said quickly. “Listen, I just wanted to talk to you about your cousin.”

  “Clay? Do you have information on him?”

  “Yes and no,” Anthony said. “I was able to recover his bag. His special bag,” he clarified with a glanced toward Bella. “That was confiscated.”

  Bella, however, was zonked on my chest, her warm little body feeling very heavy despite her mere sixteen pounds. I shifted and sat higher in bed, setting the ice pack off to the side. “Interesting. Don’t tell me it’s in this room.”

  “Of course not,” Anthony said. “I have it somewhere secure. Very secure.”

  “If anything will drag Clay back, it’ll be a bag of supplies he’s missing.”

  “Those were my exact thoughts,” Anthony said. “I’ve tried to call him, hunt him down, even left messages where I could. Not a peep.”

  “That’s strange. I don’t know, though, maybe he just needed some time to clear his head. Clay’s different. He processes in a way that nobody else understands.”

  “That may be true, but I think we should start examining Clay’s disappearance from a different angle. Especially in light of the recent, ah, pickles you’ve found yourself in.”

  “Pickles?”

  Anthony nodded at Bella and gave a baffled shrug. “I don’t want to upset her.”

  I stood and moved her to the other room, laid her in her crib, and watched her for a moment to make sure she stayed asleep. By the time I returned to the bedroom, Anthony had inched his way into the center of the bed and was looking expectantly at me.

  “You think Clay might have been kidnapped,” I said. “Taken by Coco and his men.”

  “Or worse.”

  At my fallen expression, he took on a look of instant regret.

  “No, it’s fine,” I said, waving him off. “I suppose we should assume the worst just to be safe. If he turns up back at the hotel after a day at the spa, we can all kick ourselves and chortle.”

  “I wouldn’t chortle,” Anthony said. “I don’t chortle.”

  “Whatever,” I said. “Have a good laugh over it. But if he has been taken by Coco’s people...”

  “I know.” Anthony reached over and squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry you’re wrapped up in this. The week was supposed to be about Meg and Clay, and—”

  “Oh, I don’t owe Meg anything. At least, not
anymore,” I said, stepping gingerly toward the bed. “After what she put me through down in the spa, I think this week has been plenty about her. Let’s focus on finding Clay.”

  Anthony gave a firm nod and stood. “Speaking of, what happened down there—”

  “Where?”

  “The spa,” he said blithely. “When will you be less...”

  “Raw?” I asked. “Yeah, good question.”

  “It’s a serious question,” Anthony said, hurrying to my side. “I’m just...concerned about you.”

  “Sure you are,” I said with an eye roll. “Can you hand me that dress? I don’t think I can put any clothes over the zone.”

  “Does that include—”

  “I’m wearing underwear,” I said. “Relax, chico.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Well, since I am in slightly less pain, thanks to the numbing cream and the ice pack, I’m going to take care of some business before things wear off.” I patted Anthony on the chest. “I’m not leaving hotel grounds, I promise. I’m just popping downstairs for a minute, and then I’m going to check on Meg. Do you mind staying with Bella for a little while longer? I’ll be back to feed her when she wakes.”

  “I would really prefer if you don’t walk around alone,” Anthony said. “There’ve been two attempts on your life today. The odds are not good.”

  “No, but God help the man or woman who comes after me right now,” I said. “I’m tired, I’m cranky, and I had all of my hairs yanked out by an angry Scandinavian woman. I am on fire, Anthony.”

  “Fine,” he said. “But at least take this.”

  I glanced down at the tiny pink thing in his hand. “What’s that?”

  “A little stun gun. It’s not fatal, don’t worry. You can’t do serious damage, but you can do enough damage.”

  “That’s so sweet,” I said, blinking up at him. “I love you.”

  “Be careful.”

  I probably didn’t need a stun gun for where I was headed, seeing as my trek was short-lived and ended at the front desk. The lobby still smelled like tropical flowers, and a tinkling, relaxing tune pulsed in a tropical beat that had me feeling like I was on vacation whether I wanted to be or not. I snatched a glass of coconut milk in a champagne flute from a passing waiter as I sidled up to the receptionist.

  “Hi there,” I said to a meticulously coiffed man. He was two times skinnier than me, and I was only a tad envious. “I am staying in one of your penthouse suites, and I have a question for you. It’s somewhat...discreet.”

  The gentleman leaned forward, his features forming an overzealous, confidential vibe. “Whatever you wish, ma’am. We have an entire featured menu for special requests.”

  “I’m not sure mine will be on there,” I said. “Could we talk in private?”

  “I assure you, ma’am, that I’ve seen everything,” he said, tilting his thin nose higher. “But alas, follow me to this desk. Let me assure you, we guarantee your absolute privacy.”

  “Wonderful,” I said.

  The receptionist slid easily into a chair behind a desk in one of the far corners of the lobby where we couldn’t be overheard as easily. He shook my hand and introduced himself as Manny.

  “Now,” he said, “here are a list of several features. You’re here for a wedding, yes? If you’re looking for bachelorette party specifics, we have an entire section to highlight your options...”

  Manny handed over a small book that resembled a wine list at an exquisite restaurant. I flipped the pages open to politely peruse. My heart leapt into my throat. “Oh, no, Manny. This isn’t what I’m talking about.”

  “No?” he asked, “then maybe this?”

  He handed over another booklet, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I handed him the first booklet back—holding it by the tips of my fingers like I might a suspicious looking tissue I’d found on the ground. “There are pictures of men in here!”

  “Yes,” he said. “And I have women in another book. Have I read the situation wrong?”

  “Entirely wrong!” I burst. “I am not interested in men or women, unless Coco himself is in one of these books.”

  Manny dropped his little book of women and straightened. “Excuse me? Lower your voice.”

  “That’s why I asked to talk in private,” I said. “It’s a sensitive topic.”

  “I thought you wanted entertainment for a bachelorette party,” he said. “Or maybe you were lonely.”

  “No. I’m happily married and here to celebrate another wedding,” I said with a frown. “Keep those little booklets on your side of the desk and tell me where I can find Coco.”

  Manny shook his head. “I can’t do that. I don’t know where he is.”

  “Come on, Manny,” I said. “You’re the concierge to a huge hotel. You can help me purchase time and other things with men and women and only God knows what else. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard rumors of who Coco is and where I can find him.”

  Manny leaned forward, his hands crossing on the desk. “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. I would be sending you into the lion’s den.”

  “Well, I’m willing to waddle right in there,” I said, matching him eye to eye. Reaching into my handbag, I pulled the tiny stun gun out of my pocket. “I’m not going in unarmed.”

  Manny looked very unimpressed by my weapon.

  “Okay, it’s not much,” I agreed. “But I’m tougher than you think. I just had a Brazilian wax, and that ain’t for the faint of heart. Plus, I birthed a child. I dare Coco to come at me.”

  “Your confidence will hurt you.”

  “Look, I’m not willing to go toe to toe with him,” I said. “I just want to talk. He’s after me and my family, and it has to stop. At least I want to know why he’s after me. The only thing I ever did to him was show up on this island.”

  “Coco always has a reason for the things he does,” Manny said. “Even if it doesn’t make sense.”

  “You don’t make sense.”

  Manny rolled his eyes. “Look, ma’am. I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

  “I was afraid you were going to say that,” I said with a sigh. “Well, then, I’ll just keep asking around and let everyone know you were very helpful on the subject.”

  “Don’t—you can’t!” Manny said. “That’s suicide!”

  “Look, you’ve already talked to me,” I said. “And Coco doesn’t know that you kept your lips zipped and didn’t give me any information. People I’ve been talking to on this island have been disappearing like a cheap magic trick. I hate to break it to you, but I think you’re already in the line of fire. Your best bet is to give me whatever information you can. I’ll leave you completely out of this, I promise.”

  Manny still didn’t look convinced.

  “I’m sure your hotel is donating to Coco’s causes as well,” I said. “It would be good for everyone if he was caught.”

  “I don’t think you can catch him.”

  “Then you don’t know me very well,” I said. “I’m just looking for a hint. A push in the right direction. A shove if you’ve got it, or even a slingshot.”

  Manny looked like a worried squirrel as he glanced around the hotel lobby, but nobody seemed to be paying us any attention. “It’s rumored he goes to this luau,” Manny said in a hushed whisper. “I swear that’s the only place I’ve ever heard him to be. Like, a physical location.”

  “Where’s the luau?”

  “It’s at this place called Smitty’s Farm.”

  “What?”

  “It’s been around forever,” Manny said. “Family owned. Once a month, they hold this exclusive get together. Extravagant. Someone told me they once saw elephants there. Another time they let off so many fireworks it upset a volcano.”

  “How do I get a ticket?”

  Manny gave a maniacal laugh. “Good luck, sweetheart. I’ve never known anybody who’s gone to one. It’s only the highest of the highest of Coco’s men and probably their families. Maybe their fam
ilies. Who knows? It’s exclusive and mums the word. I imagine if anyone did say a word, they’d be dead.”

  “Huh,” I said. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to be creative then.”

  “I’d stay away if I were you,” Manny said. “Far, far away.”

  “When’s the next luau?” I watched Manny’s blank face. “Come on, you have the schedule for the entire island. You must know. If for no other reason, they must block off the venue for other events.”

  “Tomorrow night,” he said with a wince. “Even if you could find your way inside, it’s much too late. The security there is astronomical.”

  “Thanks, Manny,” I said, standing. “I appreciate it.”

  “And if you need any entertainment—”

  “I don’t,” I said. “But thanks. Very thoughtful.”

  I left Manny fumbling nervously with his books. I didn’t shake his hand goodbye, thinking it would be better for him the less we associated. I had nothing against Manny. I hated that the sheer fact of being around me put him in danger, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t solve this case in a vacuum—especially now that I wasn’t even sure what the case was all about.

  It might have started with May, but somehow, I didn’t think it would finish with her. And the only way to end this once and for all was to get a face-to-face with Coco. Luckily, I had an idea for how we might get our chance.

  “Well, hello, dear,” Nora said, pulling her door open with a surprised expression. “Do you need me to hang out with Bella?”

  “Actually, no,” I said, then quickly added at her crestfallen expression, “er—not yet. She’s still sleeping. I’ve come here to discuss a little personal matter.”

  “Oh, honey. Are you looking for romantic advice? Meg confided in me that things might have been lagging between you and Anthony lately.”

  “Why would she say that?” I asked, kicking the door shut. “That’s not true.”

  “Good.” Nora patted my shoulder. “Because we’re expecting Bella to have a sister or brother quite soon, and that just wouldn’t happen if the two of you aren’t, well, you know...”