Tequila Trouble - Nicole Leiren

by Danger Cove

  Drake stopped in front of a flower I didn't recognize. He grinned as he ran his fingertips over the petals of a white flower colored in various shades of pink and red. The freckles dotting the surface reminded me of Agnes's complexion.

  "I thought it would be nice to have fresh-cut flowers to go on the tables. This one is a Stargazer lily."

  I smiled. Fresh flowers were a great idea. "It's beautiful."

  He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then closed it again. "Let me show you the herb garden."

  We moved to another area back in a corner. The moment I stepped closer, the fragrance of sage, rosemary, and thyme greeted me. "It smells like an Italian restaurant."

  He grinned. "Tara mentioned wanting to explore Italy a bit with her dishes. I wanted her to have the freshest possible herbs to work with."

  I thought of the possibility of Tara leaving to go work with Chef Jonathan and managed to swallow the sugar cube–sized lump of emotion forming in my throat. "That's very nice of you."

  Wanting to divert my thoughts, I took in the palette of colors from the flowers, the vibrant green leaves of the plants and herbs, along with the way he'd arranged them in an aesthetically pleasing manner. I noticed a bottle of tequila sitting at the end of one of the shelves. I might not know a lot about horticulture, but I didn't think that was among the recommended sources of nutrition. "You're doing a great job. Now that the weather will permit planting outside, I'm looking forward to some fresh fruits and veggies from the garden as well." I pointed to the tequila bottle. "Though I'm pretty sure that doesn't belong here."

  Drake shrugged and offered a quirk of his lip. "It is what you hired me to do, and…" He grabbed the bottle. "This was my reward for completing all my errands today. I promise it's going home with me tonight."

  Seemed reasonable. Until I caught him drinking on the job, I'd trust that what he said was true. My gaze was drawn to a vibrant purple flower on the opposite side of the room. Moving toward it, I lifted my hand to reach out and touch what I knew would be the softest silk.

  "Lilly, stop!" Drake's shout startled me, and my arm fell to my side absent of its prize. I turned, embarrassed and unsure why he'd yelled. I'd seen him touch the flowers earlier. Maybe he was possessive, even though all of this technically belonged to Hope.

  "What's wrong?"

  He moved between me and the purple petalled plant. "This flower is monkshood. Very dangerous. Even a touch can cause unpleasant effects."

  Like the EMTs, I lacked the ability to possess a poker face. As a result, I was sure he could see my face twist into concern. "Why are you growing it here then? I know not too many people come in here, but still. We certainly can't put them out on the tables."

  He shot me a sheepish grin again. I was betting earlier in his life that got him out of trouble more times than he could count. At some point though, the facial expressions would stop working. Pretty sure Drake had hit that point today.

  "It's such a beautiful flower. I couldn't help myself," he explained. "How about if I post a warning sign or move it back into my little office area?"

  I was such a softie. "Both are necessary if you want to keep it around. I don't want to have to explain an accidental poisoning to Hope."

  He grinned and slipped on a pair of gloves before carefully picking up the flower. "You got it. Moving it now and a sign will be up soon."

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. A quick glance confirmed it was Mandi indicating the lunch rush was in full swing. "I have to run. Thanks for the tour."

  "Anytime."

  I was tempted to remind him once again about a few of the items we'd talked about: Don't be late. No drinking on the job. No poisonous plants without appropriate warning. But, really, should a person need to be reminded twice about such things? I was going to go with no.

  Drake followed me inside. "You want me to help out in the kitchen?"

  Clara and Tara were bustling around preparing food for the incoming orders. "Check with Tara. I'm sure she'd appreciate the help."

  The drama and trauma of the morning set aside, it was time to focus on the tavern. From the number of patrons currently seated at the bar and in the dining area, there would be plenty of distractions to keep my mind occupied.

  A couple hours later, the rush was finally over. I made my way to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea when my favorite detective—not—Marshall was waiting for me. His crossed beefsteak arms coupled with the red hue of irritation on his face sent a clear signal that not even a deluxe, extra-large pizza from Gino's Pizzeria would pacify him. Thankfully, Officer Faria was hanging out behind Marshall's bulky form. "Afternoon, detective. What can I help you with?"

  He jerked his head toward the kitchen. "In private, please."

  Shitzu, this could not be good. I forced a smile. "Sure, come on back. Ruby, would you mind covering again for a few before you head home?"

  She patted my arm. "Sure thing. Call if you need anything."

  I nodded but didn't say anything. Truthfully, it was taking all my energy to keep my facial expressions neutral and avoid anything that might irritate Danger Cove's finest this afternoon. Once in Hope's office, Detective Marshall handed me a piece of paper. "This is a search warrant."

  My fingers trembled a bit as I unfolded the paper and skimmed over the contents. I didn't understand all the legal jargon, but the gist of it was they had the right to search the entire premises of Smugglers' Tavern and my residence. I shook my head as I handed it back to him. "I don't understand. Should I call my attorney? What are you looking for? Did something happen while I was gone?" I looked to Freddie and Drake, both of whom were lurking outside the door, pretending not to be eavesdropping. "Other than the fifteen minutes I was in the greenhouse with Drake, I've been at the bar for the lunch rush." At least this time I was on the asking end of the twenty questions game.

  The detective put his hands on the desk and leaned forward, dangerously close to invading my personal space. "Mrs. Iglesias filed a stolen-property report a little while ago. The initial investigation at the scene revealed your fingerprints all over the place. Most incriminating evidence is you leaving your mark on the glass where the ring was being cleaned."

  His small smile of satisfaction sent a shot of surly straight to the tip of my tongue. "Would you like to hear my side of the story or just arrest me now so you can get back to the pepperoni pizza I know is waiting for you?"

  Admittedly, that might be more like a pound of surly rather than a shot, but my history with this particular dispenser of justice did not bode well for him actually hearing me out. I decided to go ahead and try to share my version of events before attorneys had to be called in. "I was at the house. Agnes called me, distraught about Rico. I was the one who called 9-1-1. My prints were on the glass because…"

  Detective Marshall held up his hand to stop me. "My men are on the clock, Ms. Waters. We have a search warrant and intend to execute it. Save the sob story for your attorney." He turned to Officer Faria. "Get the team. Start out back. Search everything." He returned his attention to me. "We'll do our best to be done before the dinner rush."

  At least he gave me that. I wasn't sure why, but I'd learned enough to know now was the time to be grateful. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

  He nodded. "Go on about your business. We'll let you know when we find something."

  I managed to harness my tongue before it shot off another snarky comment. He wasn't going to find anything. I didn't steal the ring—I couldn't even find it when I'd been looking for it. I also had every intention of returning the envelope of cash I'd found while cleaning. Honest Abe had nothing on me. Once the men in blue had moved outside, I returned to the bar. I needed to keep busy so that I wouldn't call or, better yet, storm over to Agnes's house to demand why she hadn't explained my presence to the police.

  Once Ruby had been filled in, she headed to the kitchen for a break and to wrangle up some food and dessert for Vernon. Thankfully, the crowd at the bar was occupied
with friends, so I didn't have to chat any of them up too much. I kept replaying the scene at Agnes's house over in my mind. Had this all been some elaborate setup? She'd been unhappy with Rico—there'd been no secret about that. Was discovering the ring was a fake the last straw? No matter how much I reviewed my history with her though, I couldn't come up with why she'd have it out for me. Not because I was perfect. Goodness knows that wasn't the case. And despite what Detective Marshall thought, I'd taken extra care to not disturb the scene this time. Agnes had to play my heartstrings to even make me go near it. Other than moving the large piece of the glass to the counter and holding on to the envelope of cash I'd found under the cabinet, I hadn't really done anything at all.

  "Lilly?"

  Officer Faria broke into my thoughts. "Are you done?" I fought to keep the irritation out of my voice, but wasn't sure I succeeded.

  "I'm going to check in here and in the restroom area. Just me and one other plainclothes man. We'll try to be as unobtrusive as possible."

  "Where's Marshall?" That time there was no doubt irritation laced my words.

  "He's just doing his job. We have to follow up on all leads in an investigation."

  "Does that mean not allowing me to explain?"

  Faria shrugged. "The way he said it wasn't right, but what he said was. Once he is given a search warrant to execute, it's his job to do it. If he finds something that implicates you, then would be the time to take your statement."

  I really hated when they were right and I was wrong. At least it was Faria pointing it out nicely rather than Detective Marshall lecturing me. Yeah, been there, done that. "You make a valid point." I wanted to explain to him why I was upset about Agnes, but decided to hold off. More research into that angle needed to be done before I spoke about it aloud to anyone else. "How is Agnes doing?"

  He moved in closer, so I leaned forward under the pretense of wiping the bar down in front of him. "Mr. Iglesias' death has preliminarily been ruled an accident. Given her wealth and the possible stolen property, the coroner has decided to do an autopsy first thing tomorrow morning to rule out any foul play."

  I nodded. "Thanks for sharing that with me. I know you didn't have to."

  He smiled. "Consider it a peace offering. Now I better wrap this search up." His stomach growled, and he blushed.

  "Should I ask Tara and Clara to make you something and put it in a to-go bag for when you're finished?"

  "That'll be great. Thanks, Lilly."

  He went about his work, and I put in an order for his favorite meal along with a few of the chocolate chip cookies we kept on hand for when he came in. Might as well pay it forward with the hopes he'd share the results of the autopsy. To avoid any appearance of impropriety, he would pay for his meal, but dessert would be my thanks to him for keeping us safe.

  About fifteen minutes later, the door from the kitchen swung open, revealing Marshall's bulky frame. "Ms. Waters, your presence is required in your office."

  I started to point out that it was Hope's office, not mine, but Mandi clearing her throat, accompanied by a smile and subtle shake of her head, sent the message loud and clear: Play nice. So I smiled and nodded. "Be right there."

  Once he disappeared from the doorframe, I turned to Mandi, who was refilling some sodas at the bar, and stuck my tongue out at her. She just laughed. I managed to get my mirth under control before stepping into Hope's office. I decided it was time to take back control of this day. No better way to do that than restoring the norm, which meant going on the offensive with Detective Marshall. "Are you going to arrest me?"

  His chest ballooned out as he took a deep breath. I was sure it was to keep from ripping me to shreds with his bare hands. Have I mentioned how big his hands were? "Not yet, Ms. Waters. However, our questioning of your staff revealed you were late arriving this morning."

  "Which means?" Someday I'd try to buy a road map to this guy's mind so that I could understand all the twists and turns he took to get to the final destination of his point.

  "Which means you had plenty of time to stop off at your residence to hide the stolen property before arriving here."

  Unbelievable. I reached into my purse and tossed him my key. "Here. Knock yourself out. You aren't going to find anything because, like I keep telling you, I didn't do it."

  He caught the key, which annoyed me, as I have butter fingers whenever someone pitches things in my direction.

  "Nice try, but you'll need to come with me. We're not going to enter your premises without you there."

  I was pretty sure they did that kind of thing on the police shows I watched, but maybe that was just television rather than real life. "I can't leave."

  "You don't have a choice." His frame filled the room, and authority poured out of him faster than tequila flowed into Agnes's glass.

  "I'll go and watch the search." Ruby's tone left little room for discussion. She entered the office, patted Detective Marshall on the arm, and offered a serene smile. "Okay?"

  He paused for a moment and looked from me to her before nodding. "Okay."

  Detective Marshall turned to leave the office. "Meet you outside in five, Ruby." He shot me one last warning look across the bow of the SS Grudge Ship he held against me for some reason. "As soon as I have proof, I'll be back to arrest you, and then you can tell me the story you keep interrupting me to share."

  Once he left, Ruby smiled. "Don't let him get under your skin. He wants to get a rise out of you. It's a game to him." She nudged me with her shoulder. "I think deep down he likes you."

  Her statement sent me into a fit of laughter. "If that's how he shows he likes someone, I feel sorry for whoever he chooses to love."

  Ruby chuckled. "You may have a point." She grabbed her purse and the food containers. "Trust the universe, Lilly. Everything happens for a reason."

  I sat down and thought about everything that had happened this morning. I decided the first thing I needed to do was call Agnes to determine why she hadn't explained to the police that my prints had only been left all over the scene because I was trying to help her. Did she really think I could've stolen her ring? Regardless, her actions—or lack thereof—had put me directly in Detective Marshall's line of fire.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The phone rang several times as I waited for Agnes to answer. It made me wonder if she'd found another bottle of her tequila and had drank till she discovered the nonexistent worm that used to be at the bottom. "Agnes, it's Lilly. Are you alright?"

  "No, dear sweet girl. I fear I'm not. I'm in the hospital." The frailness in her voice rocketed me into a full-on guilt trip. All aboard—full steam ahead.

  I wouldn't think making arrangements, paperwork, and whatever else one had to do when someone died at a hospital would take this long. "Still handling arrangements, or is something else wrong? Did you start coughing again from the fumes?"

  "No. Remember I mentioned I'd not been feeling well since I had gotten back from the cruise?"

  I did but had chalked that up to the increased tequila intake. "Yes, I remember." I couldn't find a way to delicately ask about the alcohol consumption, so I opted to be patient and see if she would volunteer any information. "Maybe you're just upset about everything that happened? I know you weren't happy with Rico. Sometimes guilt over unresolved issues can make us feel ill." Like failing to mention to the police about my helping you this morning.

  "The relationship between Rico and I was complicated. Maybe I loved the idea of being married more than I loved him."

  Other than the love I felt for my family, I wasn't sure I understood love enough to comment on her statement. I opted for neutrality. "Only you can decide that, Agnes. I'm sure, regardless of how you felt or didn't feel, you didn't want him dead." At least I hoped she hadn't.

  There was a lot of silence on the other end—enough to make me wonder if maybe she had harbored homicidal thoughts, especially after discovering the ring was a fake. I was just about ready to say something, when I heard retching an
d the sound of someone losing the contents of their stomach. I put my hand over my mouth to prevent the same thing from happening to me. It was true. I was a sympathy puker. Even if an animal made the sound, it sent me straight to the bathroom.

  I was about to disconnect the line when a woman came on. "Hello?"

  "Yes?" I swallowed hard, closed my eyes, and pictured the sun setting over the water to help calm the roiling in my stomach.

  "This is Nurse Williams. Mrs. Iglesias is rather indisposed at the moment. You'll have to call back later."

  Gladly! "No problem. Please tell Agnes that Lilly will try to stop by soon. I hope she feels better."

  The call disconnected without any further comment from the nurse. I was sure she had more important matters to attend to than proper phone etiquette. Truthfully, I was thankful she'd hung up before I heard Agnes again. I felt guilty I'd assumed the worst about her, but a small part of me wondered how she would have responded to my comment if she hadn't turned ill. The cynic in me considered that maybe she'd taken the silence between us as an opportunity to make herself sick so she didn't have to comment about whether or not she'd contemplated what her life would be like with Rico out of the picture.

  Neither scenario sounded appealing on my already sensitive stomach. I'd deal with those thoughts later. Time to go back to work. Before I could even make it out of the office, the phone rang. "Hello?"

  "Lilly, it's Chef Jonathan. I wanted to see if you've made any decisions."

  Nothing like direct and to the point. Seriously, did they not teach phone etiquette and polite conversation anymore? "I've been incredibly busy today since I left your little brunch." I remembered the threats Rico had made to Jonathan in the kitchen. "In case you haven't heard, Rico Iglesias was found dead earlier today."

  "I'm sorry to hear that."

  For the official record, he didn't sound sorry at all. "I'm sure you are. At any rate, both Agnes and I will need time to process everything. She's dealing with a lot right now, so please don't bother her."

  He harrumphed. The sound caused me to smile a bit at his aggravation. Wasn't there a saying about misery loving company? Well, Agnes and I didn't want to be alone in our misery today. Granted, Agnes's misery ranked far higher than mine, but since I couldn't completely understand her role in all of this just yet, I couldn't give her all the sympathy I would normally extend.