Tequila Trouble - Nicole Leiren

by Danger Cove

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  TEQUILA TROUBLE

  A DANGER COVE

  COCKTAIL MYSTERY

  by

  NICOLE LEIREN

  &

  ELIZABETH ASHBY

  * * * * *

  Copyright © 2018 by Nicole Leiren

  Cover design by Janet Holmes

  Gemma Halliday Publishing

  http://www.gemmahallidaypublishing.com

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  EPILOGUE

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  DANGER COVE BOOKS

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  BOOKS BY NICOLE LEIREN

  SNEAK PEEK

  CHAPTER ONE

  "Lilly, you must promise me two things."

  I grabbed the second empty glass of tequila sunrise from in front of Danger Cove's newest celebrity. "What's that, Agnes?"

  Her red curls bounced as she balanced her chin on one hand, her elbow sliding dangerously close to the edge of the bar. "First and most important, you must promise to never, ever run out of my brand of tequila."

  Mandi, my best friend forever (BFF) and head waitress here at Smugglers' Tavern, brought an order up to the bar. She smiled indulgently at Agnes. "Miss Thermopolis, Tsunatka tequila is over three hundred dollars a bottle. You're the only one who can afford that brand, so not much of a chance we'll run out."

  Agnes sighed heavily before sitting up straight. "I'm no longer Miss Thermopolis."

  Mandi's face blushed bright red, almost matching the shade of her hair. "My apologies. I keep forgetting you got married on the cruise ship." Mandi frowned. "I don't even know what percentage of people get married at sea."

  Deciding to rescue Mandi, I handed her the drinks for her order and smiled. "Then you'll have something new to research on your day off."

  My comment returned both her smile and hue of her cheeks to their normal state. "You're right. Thanks, Boss. You know how I'm always looking for info to feed my inner trivia monster. This should be fun."

  It was true. Mandi had an unending love for all things trivia. Her knowledge of random facts had come in handy both on a personal and professional level for me over the past year. This was especially important since Hope Foster, owner of Smugglers' Tavern, had left me in charge while she was off exploring the world with her English love, Harvey. She was scheduled to return from her travels soon though. To be honest, I'd spent at least a few sleepless nights wondering where I'd fit into the master plan once that happened.

  Regardless of what my role might or might not be once she returned, I was certain Hope wouldn't appreciate me being called "Boss" once she'd returned. Besides, I really enjoyed calling her "Boss Lady," even though she hated it. Turning from future concerns and focusing on the present, I rolled my eyes at Mandi and teased, "I'm the only boss you've had, so that's not much of a compliment."

  Mandi's good nature came through, and she laughed as she grabbed the tray of drinks. "I'll give you the stats on bosses over ice cream on Sunday."

  "That girl loves her trivia and random facts, doesn't she?" Agnes mused as she pointed to the expensive bottle of tequila and gestured for another.

  "That she does." I started making the drink, but decided to chat Agnes up a little to increase the space between her beverages. Normally, two was her limit, but from the way she'd been acting since she'd arrived a little while ago, I'd bet she pre-gamed with a few of her own before coming in. "I have some trivia for you. Ready?"

  "Do I have a choice?" Agnes chuckled.

  "Consider it an exchange for another drink. I'll even toss in a ride home for you. I bet I can sweet talk Tanner into giving you a lift."

  Agnes grinned and let her gaze glide over all the envious patrons, who, no doubt, were whispering behind her back, to take in my not-boyfriend and chief of security here at the tavern, Tanner Montgomery. To clarify, I only went out on dates with Tanner, and he only went out with me, but labels like boyfriend implied commitment and only complicated matters. That complication was something Tanner and I had been discussing more and more the closer he got to his graduation from college.

  Tanner must have sensed our gazes as he served up that toothpaste-white smile at both of us and waved. So darn cute, he was. Agnes waved back and then returned her attention to me. "As much as I love that cherry red Mustang of his, I'm fine to get myself home. I may be rich, but I still prefer to drive myself."

  She might be rich, thanks to her recent lottery win, but I took my job seriously, and if she needed a ride home, I'd make sure she got one. That was just how we bartenders rolled…well, at least this one. Ready to change the subject, I checked on the other patrons and then finished mixing Agnes's drink. "So what was the second thing you wanted me to promise you?"

  "She wants you to promise to never buy a lottery ticket." Local reporter Duncan Pickles and author of the article that had shed a little fame light on Danger Cove, along with Agnes and me, slid onto the wooden stool next to her.

  I offered up the obligatory smile. "Your usual?"

  He nodded and returned his attention to Agnes. Fine with me. Duncan hadn't been one of my favorite people when I first arrived in Danger Cover a little over a year ago, and not much had happened to change that. Unlike my rock-and-roll, spotlight-seeking father, I was content to hang out in the shadows. Duncan's article about Lady Luck lavishing her attention on Agnes with the lotto win and on me with my surprise inheritance had pushed us both right into the center ring of the circus. It was amazing how many "charitable" organizations you learned about once people realized you'd stumbled upon your pot of gold without the trouble of chasing the rainbow. Agnes had escaped the influx of potential pursuers who either wanted her money or her hand in matrimony as a way of getting to the money by going on a Caribbean cruise.

  Well, she'd managed one out of two. Guess that wasn't too bad.

  I mixed Duncan's drink and placed it i
n front of him. "Eight fifty."

  Duncan smiled at Agnes, "Would you mind?"

  The smile on her face tightened, but held its shape. "Of course. Now run along and play—the adults need to talk."

  He had the decency to look slightly abashed, but took the drink and left without even a thank-you. Jerk. I shook my head. "You better hope he doesn't write an article about your generosity at the bar, or you'll be picking up everyone's tab."

  Agnes downed her drink. "I won over ten million dollars after taxes. I have more money than I'll ever know what to do with. I could buy drinks for everyone in town, tourists included, every night for a year and still be fine."

  "That still doesn't make it right."

  Agnes ignored my assessment and pointed to the bottle of tequila. "You promised me some useless trivia about tequila."

  "Right. Do you know how many different brands of tequila there are?" Hanging around Mandi must be rubbing off on me.

  "Two."

  "Two? Agnes, you know that can't be right."

  "Not for nuttin', but she's right." Freddie, our busboy and transplant from New York, brought over a clean rack of glasses for me.

  Agnes laughed. "Tell her, Freddie."

  He set the rack down and pointed to the bottle Agnes had been enjoying her libations from for the last hour or so. "There's her brand," he said. Then he pointed to the other tequilas sitting on the shelf. "Then there's not her brand. When you add those up, you get two."

  Not only were her red curls bouncing, Agnes's entire body was jiggling with her laughter. Freddie was funny, but not that funny. This was definitely tequila-tainted amusement. "When the boy is right, he's right."

  Freddie's bangs fell over his face as he lowered his head in embarrassment. "Thanks, Mrs. Iglesias."

  Agnes lifted her hands in the air. "Not only right, but smart. Keep this one around, Lilly."

  Freddie noticed some people leaving and used that as an opportunity to make his exit.

  I gave Agnes another drink. "This one comes with a ride home, okay?"

  She shrugged, and the levity left her as quickly as it had come. "What if I don't want to go home?"

  "Oh, come on. The honeymoon can't be over yet."

  "Pfft, it would have to start in order to have an ending."

  "You want to talk about it?" Bartending 101: when people wanted to talk, you needed to listen.

  After a long, slow sip, she finally answered. "Rico has been acting strangely since we got home. On the ship he said and did everything right." She lifted her left hand to admire the rock adorning her ring finger. "But from the moment he slipped this four-carat emerald-cut diamond ring on my finger and I said I do, he's been a changed man—and not in a good way."

  It wasn't surprising. Since the article, there'd been any number of men who'd come seeking either my hand in marriage or Agnes's. They weren't picky. They just wanted to attach themselves to our fortunes. Because the size of her bank account was about ten times the size of mine, she'd had to contend with them much more than I had. Besides, Tanner had done a pretty good job of dissuading my would-be-suitors. Have I mentioned how I like it when he goes all caveman protector on me? "I'm really sorry, Agnes. Maybe he's just having a tough time adjusting. Where is he from originally?"

  "Seattle," she scoffed. "Since that's only an hour away, I don't see that as a big adjustment for him. I've tried to get him to open up about what might be bothering him, but his lips are sealed."

  "Maybe it's married life he needs adjusting to?" I was grasping at plastic straws in the condiment bin, but I was trying for my newest friend to find some meaning other than the obvious.

  Agnes flipped her hair as she huffed. "I suppose you're right, but I'm making an effort to adjust too. It's not like I've been married before." She crooked her finger to bring me in closer. "He doesn't even like tequila. Honestly, Lilly. What kind of man doesn't like tequila? Or more to the point, how could I have married a man who doesn't like tequila?"

  I managed to hold my sassy retort about the possibility of her consuming too much tequila prior to her saying yes. She didn't want or need to hear that right now. Before I could manage a sass-free response, she continued. "He's been acting very strangely the last couple of days. Very anxious."

  She grabbed my hands and held them tightly. "That's the second thing I want you to promise me."

  "What's that?"

  "Promise me you'll never get married. It's not worth it, trust me." She released me and held up her hand to admire the diamond before grinning. "Well, this at least makes it more tolerable. Isn't it gorgeous?"

  It could choke a horse. Again, not what Agnes wanted to hear. "Beautiful."

  About that time Tara, my head chef, busted through the kitchen doors. "Oh. Em. Gee. I can't believe it!"

  Agnes managed to tear her gaze away from the block of gleaming ice and smiled at her. "Can't believe what, dearie?"

  My typically cool, calm, collected culinary genius vibrated with excitement. She looked like she was going to burst. I prayed it was a good burst and not an I-can't-take-this-anymore-and-I'm-leaving-you-on-a-Saturday-night burst. Yeah, those were a thing. I'd had them before. Not since coming to Danger Cove, but during my time in New Orleans. For the official record, they were not fun.

  "He's coming here—tonight!" The pitch of her voice registered on the scale as a squeal of delight amplified by an element of elation.

  Her admission didn't help us at all. "Who's coming here?"

  "Chef Jonathan!"

  I still didn't have a clue.

  Agnes jumped in and saved me from asking the obvious question. "Who is Chef Jonathan?"

  I felt like we were playing a game of twenty questions, and I was totally on the losing team.

  Tara inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly. "Sorry. It's just…I…I've had the biggest crush on him since he appeared on the cover of Haute Cuisine. Chef Jonathan Patterson is the hottest chef right now, and he's coming to Danger Cove."

  Mandi joined the conversation. "My mom reads that magazine. She Googled him. He's been wowing the critics with his unique combinations while still managing to appease your average, everyday eater. Apparently, that's quite impressive."

  What I knew about critics and unique combinations wouldn't impress anyone. I used my microwave and toaster oven to prepare any meals I braved at home. My goal was enough nourishment to last me until Clara or Tara fed me during the workday. "He sounds like a great chef, but he'd have to be pretty fantastic to make me want his food more than our chefs' here."

  Before Tara could soak up my compliment, the front door opened, and a man of medium height and build, with dark hair and a five o'clock shadow stepped through.

  Tara grabbed my arm. "It's him!" Her urgent whisper was followed by her body swaying back and forth as she stared in his direction.

  Agnes cackled. "She's swooning. I love it. Youthful infatuation is such a fun thing. I miss that."

  Jonathan strode confidently up to the bar. He looked at me and then at Agnes. "Just the two ladies I came here to see."

  CHAPTER TWO

  I had no idea which two of the three ladies standing in front of him he wanted to see. Even a greater mystery was, aside from Tara, why he would want to see Agnes or me. At the end of the day, it didn't matter. He was a customer, and it was my job to make him feel welcome. "Hi, and welcome to Smugglers' Tavern. Can I get you something to drink? I would also like to introduce you to my head chef, Tara, as I'm certain she's your biggest fan."

  I turned to gesture Tara up to the bar, but she'd disappeared. I shrugged and smiled. "The kitchen must have called. I'll be sure to introduce her before you leave. Her special tonight is the roasted chicken, and if the patrons' compliments are any indication, it's a big hit."

  He did a quick perusal of the bar area and the listed specials before his gaze returned to me. "I would love a tequila sunrise and the roasted chicken with chef's-choice vegetables." He gestured to the seat next to Agnes. "May I sit here?"

&nb
sp; Agnes batted her eyelashes and gave him a sparkling smile. "Honey, you can sit anywhere you like." She then turned to me. "Lilly, put his first drink on my tab."

  I shook my head and chuckled. "Sure thing, Mrs. Iglesias."

  There might have been a bit of sass in my stressing the missus part of my reply. Agnes and I were friends, which meant I could tease her a little bit. I made Chef Jonathan his drink (using the cheaper tequila) and then headed to the kitchen to put in his order and check on Tara.

  Reassured Tara was just nervous about meeting her hero in person, I exited the kitchen doors.

  Immediately, Agnes waved at me. "Lilly, you have to come over here. He won't tell me why he's here until we're both present and accounted for."

  They both must have missed the part where I was working and had to tend to all the patrons, not just one or two. "Give me a minute to make sure everyone has a fresh drink, and then I'll be with you."

  "Take your time, Miss Waters. I don't plan on leaving until I get a chance to talk to both of you."

  Wow, okay, now it was all starting to make sense. You take a Miss Waters and add in a Mrs. Iglesias, and that equaled Chef Jonathan looking for one of the two Ms—marriage or money. Since Agnes was married and I had no intention of walking down the aisle, that translated into him simply asking for money. The question would be what story he would weave to convince us to divest our bank accounts of the cash.

  Great. Just what I needed on a busy Saturday night.

  By the time I made it back to Agnes and Jonathan, I could swear he had Agnes swooning, just as Tara had been earlier. Maybe I was missing something about him. Don't get me wrong—he was nice looking, but definitely not swoon worthy. Now Tanner…he occasionally warranted a slight swoon. "Okay, you both have me for at least three to five minutes before I'll need to check on everyone."

  "You're very good at what you do, Miss Waters."

  I needed to put a stop to the Miss thing right now. "Lilly is fine."