Tequila Trouble - Nicole Leiren

by Danger Cove

  I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder. The solid beating of his heart clicked off the paces of the demise of our relationship. "But I can't ask you to stay." Even though I want to… Despite his promise that he wouldn't base his decision on whether we moved forward in our relationship or not, I knew in my heart he would pass up the job opportunity if I could move past my fears and make our relationship official. Whether that meant calling him my boyfriend, giving him a key to my place, or buying a home to prove I had every intention of settling down here, I was sure any of those would work. It sounded so simple—well, everything except the buying of a house—when I broke it down like that. I hated that my fears, phobias, whatever you wanted to call them, prevented me from just melting into his arms and agreeing to all of it. I would still pray every night that he stayed, but that would need to be my secret.

  I lifted my head, hoping he'd still be interested in our lips meeting in a glorious kiss. Instead, his forehead rested against mine.

  "Why do you have to be so noble? You could just tell me you want me so much that you can't live without me and that the thought of me leaving is too terrible to contemplate."

  "Nobility is one of my best qualities…or have you forgotten?" The rest of his statement rang with such brutal honesty that I couldn't tease, not even a little.

  He reached around me, completely foregoing the kind of kiss I'd been wanting all day rather than the little pecks we'd been exchanging lately, and opened the door. "Come on, noble Lilly. Agnes awaits."

  I slid onto the comfortable leather, relishing the softness. The engine roared to life, and for a moment, life felt normal again. I still didn't know what I would do if Tanner left. That was not true. I did know. I'd release the stronghold on my tear ducts to create a mini Niagara Falls on my face and gain at least ten pounds from all the ice cream I'd consume. That sounded like a good plan for the first few days. After that, only time would tell.

  We were almost to Agnes's house when my phone buzzed. "Hi, Agnes. We're pulling in to your drive now."

  "Hurry, Lilly. I think I'm going to be sick."

  The moment Tan put the car into park, I jumped out and ran to her front door. It was open. I burst inside expecting to find her writhing on the floor in pain. Instead, she was sitting at her dining room table with an open bottle of tequila. I swear, if she was drunk…

  "You don't look sick, Agnes. What's with the panic call?" Her theatrics had worn me down to one last nerve, and presently, she was grinding into it with her heels.

  She pushed a piece of paper toward me. "I found this by the kitchen door. Whoever left it must have slipped it through the pet door while I was away from home."

  I lifted the document, and Tanner moved next to me so that we could read it together: Leave $250,000 in a duffel bag in the trash bin behind Smugglers' Tavern at eleven tomorrow evening, or the police will be informed that you killed your husband.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "This doesn't make any sense." Of all the things I was thinking, that was what I said out loud.

  Despite the situation, Tan chuckled. "I dunno, Lilly. Seems pretty clear to me."

  Agnes crossed her arms and harrumphed. "I agree with Mr. Montgomery. Ranks right up there with crystal clear if you ask me."

  I raised my hands in surrender. "Hear me out. Why only ask for a quarter of a million dollars? A duffel bag will hold close to two million if you use larger bills."

  "Do I even want to know how you know such a thing?" Agnes rolled her eyes before taking another sip of her tequila.

  "You've met Mandi, my BFF, right? Cute redhead with a penchant for trivia. It's not like she turns that off when we're hanging out together. You have no idea how much trivia transfer has occurred between her brain and mine."

  Tan smiled. "You have a point. Okay, so given Agnes's highly publicized fortune, it does make you wonder why only ask for a quarter of a million."

  "Let's sit down and try to think about this a little." Tanner and I moved to the table, on opposite sides of Agnes, who remained at the head. I grabbed a piece of paper and pen from my purse. Knew that would come in handy someday.

  "My husband was murdered and not by me. That's fact number one I want you to write down." Agnes started our brainstorming session out with that little tidbit.

  "Not intentionally anyway." It slipped out. I couldn't help it.

  "Lilly!" Tanner's surprised expression was priceless.

  Agnes stood, taking her glass with her and went to stand next to the mahogany china cabinet filling one wall. "No, she's right. Depending on his cause of death, I may be prime suspect number one."

  This was one puzzle I should be able to solve right away. I pulled my phone out and texted my favorite Danger Cove police officer. I hoped he would be awake and call me. A minute later, my phone buzzed. "Hi, Officer Faria. Sorry to bother you so late. I'm with Agnes and have you on speakerphone. She's really nervous about giving her statement tomorrow to Detective Marshall." I'd purposely avoided referring to Marshall as Pizza Guy, as I didn't want to start the conversation off on a bad note.

  "Don't worry, Agnes. These are routine questions in order to verify the information you gave on your statement from the day of the incident. We want to try to identify who might have wanted to hurt your husband."

  If the look on Agnes's face was any indication, his words had not eased her worry at all. "Thank you for sharing that. Can I ask what they found in the autopsy to change it from accidental death to homicide? Agnes is also seriously considering getting rid of her table if that's what caused…you know." It was a stretch, but mostly true. Agnes might get rid of her table, especially if they found something besides asphyxiation, which led to a head-table combination, which preceded death.

  There was a pause, but not so long that the butterflies in my stomach felt the need to start flapping. "Agnes, you can keep that beautiful table…unless you'd like to sell it to me. I love the rich mahogany, and it would be just the right size for when all my family comes in."

  I cleared my throat to get him back on track.

  "Right, well, anyway. The wound on Rico's head was not consistent with impact from any part of the table. Plus, no varnish, fibers, or any other materials that would be found on the surface of a table were present in the wound. Something else had to have killed him. We're not sure what though. They're still investigating. All we can determine is that the weapon was blunt and packed a mighty punch."

  That narrowed it down to a few thousand possible items. "Okay, thanks so much. Good luck with your investigation."

  "You don't have any leads, do you?"

  "Not yet, but you'll be the first one I call if I do." It was technically the truth. The blackmail note wasn't a lead…yet. "Thanks again."

  "Welcome. Agnes, we'll see you tomorrow morning, first thing."

  Before I could disconnect, Agnes laughed. "As long as first thing means after noon."

  "Thanks again, officer." This time I managed to end the call before anything else was said.

  Grabbing the pen again, I made another note detailing what he'd shared about the murder weapon. "So far we know that neither Agnes nor her highly coveted dining room table is guilty of this crime. Let's focus on the note again. We're agreed that the dollar amount suggests that it's not solely the money the perp is after since if that was the case, they would've asked for a whole lot more."

  Agnes giggled. "Perp?"

  I sighed. It was going to be a long night. I rolled my eyes and offered Tan a small smile. I was glad he was here with me. "What would you like to call him or her?"

  "Charlie," Agnes offered without hesitation.

  This time Tan chuckled. "Any particular reason?"

  Agnes half walked, half stumbled over to the table. She picked up the blackmailer's note. "Isn't that what they called the bad guys in the Vietnam War? My marriage to Rico reminds me of a war zone. It feels appropriate."

  Tanner nodded. "Charlie it is then."

  Agnes returned to her seat and
poured more of the tequila in her glass. She sipped it slowly, which I took as a good sign. "So other than being a nice round number, why a quarter of a million dollars?"

  "Maybe he doesn't want to be too greedy," Tan offered as an explanation right before his stomach growled. "You got anything to eat, Agnes? I'm starving."

  She nodded. "I have some food Chef Jonathan brought by earlier today. Since I wasn't home, he left it with my neighbors. Let me get it for you."

  "Have you eaten any of it yet, Agnes?" I had to know if her meal tasted as bad as the one I'd been forced to endure.

  "No, all of this nonsense has given me no appetite. Plus, I'm still not one hundred percent recovered from my queasy stomach. I had some of the tea from Rico when I first got home, but that didn't calm me enough—just left me feeling ill. I switched to my tequila." Agnes stood and moved toward the kitchen. "Let me heat a plate for you. You want anything, Lilly?"

  I'd rather starve than eat one more bite of Chef Jonathan's cooking. "Could I have some of your tea? It doesn't have to be the one Rico gave you if you'd like to hold on to it for sentimental reasons."

  Bitter laughter filled the large room. "That bast—backstabbing man…" She looked at me and winked. Agnes continued, "No wonder she won't move in with you, Tanner. She won't even curse. You've gone and got yourself too good of a girl."

  I ignored Agnes's comment and managed to keep from sharing my reasoning. Agnes probably wouldn't care that Gram had been the one against cursing. It was out of respect for her, not some sense of being high and mighty, that I curbed the cursing. Not wanting to dwell on my lack of cursing or my living arrangements, I urged Agnes to continue. "Go on"

  "That man lied to me, stole from me, and is still managing to make my life difficult even in death. You really think I want to hold on to some tea leaves he gave me? Probably used my money to buy it for me."

  The woman had a point. "Touché. Then let's make it a really big mug of steaming Rico-Cheating Tea."

  My comment earned me heartfelt chuckles from both of my companions. I'd take that. I felt a little guilty about not warning Tanner about the food, but he was hungry. Maybe if Agnes saw his reaction, she'd realize investing in the restaurant wasn't such a good idea.

  A few minutes later, I had my tea, Tanner had his dinner, and Agnes had switched to water with lemon. Maybe she was starting to see the trouble tequila could bring, especially given she had to make a statement to the police tomorrow.

  Tanner scarfed down the food without so much as a wrinkle of his nose. I, on the other hand, thought the tea tasted nasty. Maybe it was my taste buds that were in the wrong here. "How's your dinner, Tan?"

  He looked up from his plate long enough to smile one of those forget-my-name smiles. Seriously, what was I going to do if he left? Besides remember my name, that was.

  "It's delicious. You sure you don't want some?"

  I shook my head and turned to Agnes. "Did this tea taste funny to you?"

  She shrugged as she continued to look through an album she'd made of pictures from her cruise. The tortured look on her face reminded me that at least for a moment in time, she'd loved Rico.

  "I didn't notice, but you're asking a woman who drinks tequila straight up without even flinching."

  Score another point for Agnes. "Fair enough. Maybe it's just me." I cast another glance at Tanner, still happily eating some steak-and-vegetable entrée. Dutifully, I returned to my notepaper and the tea. "Did you find anything of interest when you went through his things? Something that would explain the envelope of cash?"

  Tanner managed to drag his adorable, sauce-covered face away from his dinner. "What envelope of cash?"

  Oh, right. I hadn't filled him in on all of that. It wasn't like the lines of communication had been transferring data at broadband speeds between us lately. "When I was helping Agnes by looking for her ring—"

  "Fake ring," she interjected.

  "Right. When I was helping Agnes by looking for her fake ring, I found an envelope of cash under the hutch over there." I pointed to the opposite side of the room.

  "How much was in it?" Tanner asked.

  "Ten thousand dollars," Agnes supplied with a sigh.

  "Interesting—another nice round number. How come no one ever asks for $9,782 or something like that?"

  "Don't forget the seventy-two cents," I teased. His query made me think though. "Maybe Rico was being blackmailed too."

  "Do you think it's the same person?" Agnes pushed the album aside and focused on our conversation.

  I shrugged. "I can't be sure, but why ask for ten grand from Rico and a quarter of a million from you? If what you see on television is based in any truth, there's usually a reason for the specific amount the blackmailer asks for."

  "Rounded to the nearest thousand." Tanner moved his plate aside. "Maybe the blackmailer worried Rico wouldn't be able to get his hands on that much money without raising Agnes's attention."

  "Makes sense, but where's the note? Agnes, did you find anything that could be construed as a blackmail note?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing personal at all really. Just some receipts from places he visited around here. Veggie Tables, The Pelican Bar, and of course the bank, but no official receipts for those withdrawals."

  I leaned back in the chair and closed my eyes. There was something about the number that was eluding me. Something that would make sense. Slowly, I walked my mind through the past few days to identify everyone I could think of that Rico had come in contact with. Of course the list wouldn't be comprehensive as I hadn't been with him every moment, but a girl had to start somewhere. I remembered the argument between Rico and Jonathan the day of the brunch.

  "Since we can't find a note, maybe we're thinking about this all wrong. Maybe Rico was blackmailing someone? Maybe he or she stopped by to make the payment, things got out of hand, and bam, Rico's dead."

  Tanner sat forward in his chair. I took that as a sign he thought the theory was at least plausible. "If he had access to all of Agnes's money, why would he need to blackmail someone?"

  Good question. There was a reason it was a theory. "I'm not sure."

  "He didn't have access to all of my money," Agnes explained. "He only had access to one account, which has a reasonable balance in it, but I also had alerts on the account so I could monitor his activity."

  "Didn't you say Rico had withdrawn ten grand though?" If I'd remembered that a few minutes ago, my theory about him being the blackmailer wouldn't have even been shared with the rest of the class.

  "Wait!" Agnes stood and went to the printer sitting on the desk in her living room. A moment later, she returned with a printout. "I'd almost forgotten about this. In addition to looking through paperwork, I checked his web browser. His search engine revealed he'd been looking at these jeans."

  Tanner's eyes bulged when he saw the picture and the price tag. "Ten thousand for a pair of jeans! Seriously? I had some designer clothes back when my dad was alive, but never anything like this. Are those real diamonds on the back pockets?"

  "Yes, they are. I assume he put the charge on his personal credit card and planned on using the cash to pay off the balance. I won't know for sure until his statement arrives though."

  Okay, so my theory might be plausible. I decided to toss out one more wild and crazy idea. "If we go back to our original idea that Rico was the one being blackmailed, do you think Jonathan might be the one blackmailing him?"

  Agnes's eyes widened. "What possible reason would he have for doing that?"

  I chewed on my bottom lip for a few moments before answering. "I saw them arguing after the brunch. Rico threatened Jonathan, telling him he'd never get a dime of your money, but then Jonathan made a comment about starting to understand how personal this was for Rico. If it was just about the money, what else would there be to understand? Maybe Jonathan knew a secret about Rico—something that would jeopardize his relationship with Agnes. Or maybe it has something to do with Allyson. I'm convinced the three of
them have history together."

  "We can assume Rico and Allyson had a history given their interaction at the brunch. And based on her statements that day, we know Allyson and Jonathan dated previously." Tanner confirmed at least two-thirds of my statement, or would that be three-fourths? "Maybe they ran in the same social circle?"

  Agnes plopped into the chair. "Anything's possible, and none of it makes much sense to me right now."

  And any arrangement they had was null and void now that Rico was dead. "You're right, Agnes. Anything's possible."

  She yawned. "I'm too tired to think about it anymore tonight. I have to give a statement to the police in the morning. I need to be at my best so I don't get arrested."

  I stood and gathered the notes I'd written and slipped them into my purse. "Bottom line is that we need more proof before we can share anything with the police anyway."

  Agnes nodded before walking from the dining room into her living room. The plush leather recliner swallowed her frame, sending stray cat hairs floating onto the floor. As though her sitting offered an invitation, both of her cats jumped up into her lap, offering the feline version of comforting. "What I need right now is a plan. Between the blackmail note and the police interview tomorrow, I'm not sure what to do."

  Right. We needed a plan. "You get a good night's rest. Make sure you have an attorney present. Attorney Pohoke is my recommendation. He's gotten me out of trouble more times than I care to admit. He's very good at his job."

  "If you could find the blackmail note the perp…" Tanner turned to me and smiled. "Might have given to Rico, that would be helpful. It would set up an alternative theory to his murder."

  Agnes slid her hands under both cats and snuggled them close. I think the purring brought her comfort.

  "Alternative to me being the murderer, you mean."

  Tanner looked like a deer caught in the halogen headlights of an oncoming Jeep. Yeah, he wasn't used to dealing with suspects, perps, and the like. His job was to swoop in at the last minute and rescue me. I stepped between him and Agnes. "All Tanner is trying to do is keep you out of Detective Marshall's line of fire."