Tequila Trouble - Nicole Leiren

by Danger Cove

  There was a longer pause this time. "All of this because I wanted to clean my ring."

  I heard her gasp. "My ring! Lilly, you must find it. I must have dropped it when I passed out. When I realized my solution was the source of the fumes, I tried to get the glass outside while calling for help. The coughing made me drop the glass and…what a mess. Please, Lilly. You have to find the ring. I don't want to worry about that and Rico."

  "Okay, okay. Stay calm. I'll look around." Some days being a good, decent person and friend added way too many things to your to-do list. "I'll call you as soon as I find it."

  "Thank you so much. I'll be in touch."

  I shot off a quick text to Tan and Mandi to let them know why I was running late and asked them to hold down the fort until I could get there. That detail handled, I got down to the business of finding Agnes's ring. How hard could it be? It was large enough to choke a horse, and the gems should nicely reflect off the fancy flashlight on my cell phone.

  Thankfully, the fumes had dissipated somewhat when I entered the dining room. Still not pleasant, but not unbreathable anymore. I rotated the beam of light in a back-and-forth pattern, starting at the farthest corner of the room. Square by square, I followed the tiles. The only reflection came when I got to the broken glass. Not wanting to sacrifice my capris or my knees, I located the broom and started to sweep up the shards, when I stopped. If Rico was dead, I was pretty sure it was an accident. But I could just hear Detective Marshall or, as I liked to call him, Detective Pizza Guy berating me for meddling with the scene yet again. In my defense, I called him that because the first time we'd met, he'd tried to get me to confess to something I didn't do in order to get back to his pizza before it got cold.

  He'd had valid concerns about my making a mess of the crime scenes in the past. The first time I'd done so it was to try to save someone's life. The second time, it was a complete accident. Okay, so probably best to avoid a third time even if my motivation was being a good friend.

  Leaving the glass where it was, I returned to my search. I ventured lower to look under pieces of furniture. I surmised, since the glass broke when Agnes fainted, that the ring could have taken a slip-and-slide ride to a dark, remote corner of the room.

  Seeing no other way around it, I dropped to my knees and started directing the light under the cabinets and furniture, praying a flash of green from the emeralds or white brilliance from the diamond would greet me and not the beady eyes of some multi-legged insect who'd taken refuge in the darkness. A shiver slithered down my spine at the thought of being practically eye to eye with one. But a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

  So far, I'd come up empty, both on the diamond and insect prize—at least fifty percent of which I was grateful for. Only one piece of furniture left. I made sure I didn't crawl over the area where Rico's body had been. There had to be some kind of rule against that somewhere. Like stepping on a grave. Bad luck had to follow if you desecrated the dead—even if it wasn't official yet.

  I leaned lower and shone the light one final time under the mahogany hutch. No beady eyes. No brilliant gems. But there was something. Holding my breath and hoping nothing crawled over my hand, I reached under and pulled out a plain manila envelope. Sealed and no name. I might not be able to find a pulse on a person, dead or alive, but the size, weight, and feel of this package indicated to me it was stuffed with cash.

  Getting up off the floor, I stretched out the kinks and grabbed the largest piece of the glass, worried that someone might get hurt. The small shards were dangerous, but the jagged remains of the glass could be deadly if someone slipped and fell. I moved back into the kitchen, closing the door behind me. I set the glass on the counter for the police in case they needed it for whatever reason. Since I was positive Rico's death was an accident, all the rules drilled into me by Detective Pizza Guy shouldn't apply, right?

  The light from my phone caught the glass at just the right angle, and I noticed something reflecting on the inside. Closer inspection revealed silver and green flecks. In a flash, I was transported back to my high school days when my boyfriend had given me a beautiful ring. I'd been suitably impressed and had almost given him the gift that could only be given once until I'd decided to clean the ring before our big night.

  Similar flakes had appeared in the glass housing both my ring and the jewelry cleaner. Turns out the cleaning solution had revealed the ugly truth about my boyfriend and his gift—they were both fake.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Realizing the ring was a fake, my mind started the hundred-yard, dangerous dash to assumptions and conclusions. I didn't want to think the worst of my newest friend, Agnes. She'd been through a lot. She deserved happiness. Unfortunately, Rico didn't seem to be the one who was giving it to her. Agnes had mentioned—several times—about how challenging their brief, shared life together had been. Had Agnes noticed the ring was fake and decided to invoke the till-death-do-us-part segment of their vows? Though I never planned to get married, if I did, you better believe there'd be a clause in there that clarified that death had to come from natural causes and not a result of my spouse prematurely ending my life because I'd become too big of a pain in the asteroid to live with.

  Then there was the worry about Agnes's increased drinking. Though we hadn't been close friends before the interview, she'd been to the tavern numerous times. She'd never consumed more than one drink during her visits—until this past week.

  Regardless, my belief that the ring might be fake didn't prove that Agnes believed that or that she'd decided to take matters into her own hands. Add that to the fact that I couldn't find the ring and you ended up with me keeping my big mouth shut. Hey, a girl can learn, can't she? I did worry, though, that Agnes might be in more trouble than being down to her last bottle of tequila.

  I needed to get back to the tavern but wanted someone to be here when the police arrived. If they ever arrived. Agnes used to work at the police station. You'd think they'd be more prompt when it was one of their own—even if it was a former employee. I headed next door to the Stewart household. I knocked until Mrs. Stewart answered the door.

  "Why hello, Lilly. What brings you to my back door?"

  She was smiling, but I was certain she wondered who I thought I was to skip the traditional guest route to the front door and just make myself at home out back. "I'm sorry to bother you, but there's been an accident. Agnes is with Rico at the hospital, and the police should be here any minute. I really need to get back to the tavern. Do you think you could wait next door for the police?"

  Mrs. Stewart's expression morphed from curious to serious. "Is Rico alright?"

  Have I mentioned how much I hate being the bearer of bad news? For the official record, really hated it. I decided to soften the truth a bit. After all, I wasn't exactly sure what Rico's current status was. "He's receiving the best possible care. We can only hope for the best. Would you be willing to wait?"

  She nodded. "Of course. Just let me grab my e-reader. I'm halfway through Elizabeth Ashby's last book. I can't seem to put it down."

  I waited while she collected her things, and wished I had time to read a good book. Just like Clara and Tara, she was efficient and managed to be back in less than two minutes.

  "Thanks so much. You may want to wait on the back porch. Agnes decided to create her own cleaning solution, and the result produced a rather strong odor."

  Mrs. Stewart moved one of the chairs to sit close to the back door. "I should be able to hear the knock." She looked at her watch. "You probably need to get back to the tavern. Lunch rush will be starting soon."

  "Thanks again."

  I put the envelope of what I assumed to be cash in the basket of my bike and headed back to the tavern. During the ride there, I reviewed everything that had happened this morning to see if any cosmic interlocking puzzle piece jumped out at me and helped me put the picture of what happened together. I stopped about a quarter of a mile from the tavern and dialed the number for Agnes.
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br />   "Hi, Lilly. Did you find the ring?"

  With a slow exhale, I offered the bad news. "I'm sorry. I couldn't find it."

  "Oh…"

  "How's Rico?" I felt like that information should have priority over a fake ring.

  "They're still with him, but it doesn't look promising."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Me too."

  I waited a couple of beats before sharing news of what I did find. "While I didn't find the ring, I did find something of interest under the hutch in the dining room."

  "Oh?"

  "I found a sealed envelope. I didn't open it, but if I had to guess, I'd say a stack of cash."

  There was the distinct sound of sniffling. "I have all the money I could ever want or need. We both should get rid of our money, Lilly. It's cursed. My husband is most likely dead. I've felt sick almost since I got off the boat a couple weeks ago. I've managed to lose my ring, and all you've found is more cash. Keep it. Give it to charity. Do whatever you want with it. None of that matters now."

  I wasn't comfortable doing any of those things with an envelope of cash. "I'll hold on to it for you and drop it off to you later. Will you keep me posted about Rico?"

  "I will, but you and I both know he's gone. The medical personnel are doing their job, but I know it in my heart of hearts."

  Agnes was right, but I felt compelled to not agree with her. "Call or text if you need anything. Try to get some rest while you're waiting. We'll deal with all of this later today or tomorrow." I wanted to tell her everything would be alright soon, but not even taffy-truth could be stretched that far.

  I was about to end the call, when I heard muffled voices again. I waited. The moment I heard Agnes choke back a sob, I knew. My heart broke for my friend. Though they might not have been in love, I believed she cared about him.

  "He's gone, Lilly. I'll have to catch up with you later. There are arrangements that must be made."

  I blinked back a few errant tears myself. I didn't cry for many reasons, but death was at the top of the list. "Call if you need anything. Do you want me to see if Mrs. Stewart can come stay with you?"

  "No. I want to be alone." The sound indicating the call had ended chimed in my ear. Guess there was nothing more to be said.

  My remaining ride back to the tavern was slower than I'd planned. The weight of everything that had happened this morning added to the sluggish response of my muscles. Any remaining energy was diverted upward to my brain. I wanted to believe Rico's death was an accident. That was what the paramedic had believed. Don't borrow trouble from tomorrow. Let today's be sufficient. Gram's words of wisdom floated into my thoughts. She was right. No sense in suspecting foul play, especially not quarterbacked by a friend, until those in a more official capacity blew the whistle. The good Lord knew I had plenty to say grace over right now anyway.

  The tavern was bustling when I arrived. I'd barely made it into the office to put my purse away when all the tavern personnel but Ruby crowded in at the door. I gave them the sixty-second version of what had happened. Though Rico was new in town, Agnes had been here for years and was part of the Danger Cove community family. I knew that within hours of the news spreading, people would be doing whatever they could to help Agnes get through this tough time. It was how small towns rolled and one of the reasons I loved it here. Once I'd shared, I needed one small piece of info in return from them about my newest (and currently tardy) employee and gardener. "Drake?"

  "Out back," Freddie supplied.

  I nodded. "Okay, thanks. I'm going to check in on Ruby and then head out back to speak with Drake. Thanks to all of you for taking care of business while I was away."

  They nodded and returned to work. I slipped behind the bar and waited for Ruby to finish with a customer. Even though she didn't officially work at the tavern, she helped out from time to time whenever we were short staffed. With Hope out of the country, she'd been a real godsend lately. "Hey, Ruby, thanks for covering. I'll fill you in on all the details later, I promise. I need to check on Drake first, and then I'll take over. You can have some lunch before heading out—my treat."

  Ruby laughed. "With both of us basically retired now, Vernon practically jumped at the chance to get me out of the house. We've had entirely too much quality time together. He swears I've been doing the Lord of the Dance yoga pose on his last nerve. When I offer meditation to help him relax, he says a scone or chocolate cake from the bakery would have the same effect."

  I swear I wanted to be like them when I grew up. That was how I envisioned my life with Tanner. Well, maybe a little less fussing at each other. Happily cohabitating, enjoying each other's company, and avoiding the commitment coma. You know you've seen it. When couples are together for a long time, they sit at dinner and don't speak to each other. They fall into a routine that is safe and sleep inducing. "I bet Tara has some kind of sweet treat back there. She usually keeps some on hand in case I need to butter up Officer Faria."

  Ruby put her hands on her lean hips. "I'm pretty sure you butter up my guy the same way when you're looking for information."

  My cheeks heated. She was right. I did. Vernon had some pretty tight connections with all kinds of law enforcement. He'd told me he was a retired schoolteacher, but I wasn't sure that was the whole story. Either way, both he and Officer Faria had proven a valuable resource for information when I needed something checked out. You wouldn't think a bartender would need to have things "checked out" from a police perspective, but I'd found myself in a situation or two in the past that required just that. In exchange for information, I gave them their favorite sweets.

  I shrugged and smiled. "A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."

  She waggled her finger at me. "Go. Check on your new gardener. Don't be too long. These old bones aren't used to this anymore."

  Late spring in Danger Cove was the perfect time of year. The weather was moderate, flowers were blooming, and the tavern's gardener was working in the soil to produce the wonderful fruits and vegetables Clara and Tara used to serve up their amazing dishes. I confess seeing the garden come to life made me miss our old gardener, Abe, very much. Thanks to circumstances outside of his control, he'd had to move on from Smugglers'. I'd wished him all the best when he left, but really hated that he'd had to leave.

  The new guy, Drake Butler, was tall with a muscular build, dark hair, and looked to be about a decade or so younger than Abe. There was an air of mystery surrounding him, but until his background check came back confirming something was wrong, he fit three very important criteria: willing, able, and available. That trifecta of talent had prompted me to hire him on a probationary basis.

  "Hey, Lilly. Sorry about being late. I got tied up taking care of some business in town. You'd be amazed at how much there is to do when you first move."

  Since I'd moved here a little over a year ago, I knew he was telling the truth. "I get that. Next time, call or text if you're going to be late so that we can plan ahead. Deal?"

  He ran his fingers through his black waves of hair and offered a contrite grin. "Yeah, I hear ya. Again, sorry." He paused a moment. "How'd things go this morning? You had a brunch or something with that fancy-pants chef, didn't you?"

  I started to ask how he knew, but chalked it up to small-town grapevine. More effective than social media when it came to sharing news. "It was eventful." Since I didn't want Drake to feel left out from the rest of the team, I quickly hit the highlights of the food served and the impromptu visit of Jonathan's ex. I wrapped it up with, "The ambulance arrived at Agnes's house, and she confirmed with a phone call on my way here that Rico didn't make it."

  Despite the sun hanging out high overhead, a shadow of darkness descended on Drake's face when I shared the news.

  I reached out and clasped his forearm gently. "I'm sorry. Did you know him?"

  Several seconds of strained silence settled between us. "Sorry. I just hate to hear about something like that happening to anyone. Makes you feel bad for the family." Af
ter a beat, he brightened. "Do you have a few minutes? I'd like to show you a few things in the greenhouse. Maybe some beauty will help dispel some of the darkness from this day."

  The way he had phrased his last sentence made him sound like a poet—which didn't fit his rough exterior. Maybe he was like Tara's meringues—hard on the outside and soft on the inside. I stifled a giggle. Tanner wouldn't like me comparing Drake to a sugary dessert. Wanting to stay professional, I reflected instead on how seriously Drake seemed to be affected by the news of Rico's death.

  It didn't take a bachelor degree in bartending to know when someone didn't want to talk, so I'd try not to pester him about it. Besides, I needed to be inside to relieve Ruby as quickly as possible. "I can take a few minutes, sure. I'd love to see what you've got going on."

  The moment I stepped inside the modified greenhouse, a melody of scents played to my nose. The idea for the greenhouse had been Abe's. He had built a wooden structure with two large rooms. The one farthest from the door doubled as his office and served as an additional place to store supplies. Both rooms offered temperature control for some of the flowers and plants. There was also an extension off those areas that utilized the glass customary in greenhouses, which amplified the warmth of the sun and allowed him to grow a variety of items, all used to make the dishes served at the tavern among some of the best in the area. I might be biased about that last part, but it was my story and I was stickin' to it.

  "It smells great in here."

  We walked past a variety of roses. The urge to touch and smell them pulled on my sentimental strings. Those were Gram's favorites. I noticed the thorns and decided to wait for a more leisurely visit rather than a walk-by touch. No sense in doing something that required the use of bandages for the rest of my shift. "You decided to grow some flowers too?"