Deadly Dirty Martinis

by Nicole Leiren

  "You the only one in Chicago? You could take a plane. I'm sure there are plenty of flights between Seattle and there." Still I kept asking questions. There was something very wrong with me.

  "Tommy lives in the burbs, I think. Everyone else is a snowbird. They call Florida home. If we're through playing twenty questions, can I get a ride?"

  "You still haven't told me where and why you want to go."

  The cigarette served to calm her growing irritation with me, at least I hoped it did. It would be difficult explaining to Tan why there were dents in his car or the windshield was busted if she went postal. Just as I was going to tell her to put the cigarette out and get in, Tommy walked up. He leaned over and whispered in her ear. Sadly it was too soft for me to hear what he was saying. My gut told me Liza would tell me go to jump off the nearest cliff if I asked her to share with the rest of the class.

  Liza leaned over, the stench of her breath replacing the smell of the turpentine jeans still lingering in my nose. Her lips were curled in that nefarious smile she possessed and wore better than anyone else I'd ever met. "Never mind about the ride. If you see Mommy or Daddy Dearest, tell them the band is leaving in twenty-four hours, with or without them."

  For once, I managed to keep my mouth shut. Instead I rolled up the window, threw the car in reverse, and kicked up some loose gravel—hopefully on Liza's clothes—as I made a hasty exit from the parking lot. Not gonna lie. That felt good. Once out on Cliffside Drive, I slowed to the speed limit. No sense incurring additional wrath from the police department. My curious side made me wonder where Liza had wanted me to take her. Maybe she knew where Brock was and she wanted to see him?

  I'd have to figure out how or where to find him if I decided to share Liza and, apparently, Tommy's message with him. Now I was their errand girl? Fantastic. Focus, Lilly. There's a murder to solve. The Danger Cove Police Department was ominous at any time, but after dark there was an extra sense of foreboding when you entered. I consoled myself that I was entering freely from the front, rather than in handcuffs through the back. A very important detail. I whispered a quick prayer that Officer Faria was on duty rather than Detective Marshall.

  The moment I entered the waiting room, I was greeted by the smell of pepperoni pizza. My sigh managed to stay contained. Bree was going to owe me big-time for dealing with him. Forcing a smile, I rang the bell to draw attention to my presence. Ms. Thermompolis—Agnes—must be available only during the day shifts.

  "Well, to what do I owe the pleasure of having my dinner interrupted yet again by Ms. Waters?" Detective Marshall's booming voice greeted me from the doorway.

  I held up the small bag containing the baked goods. "I brought dessert."

  He laughed. "You must have really screwed something up this time if you're starting with a bribe before you even start to annoy me."

  Teeth on tongue—retort held tightly in place. I held up the bigger bag. "Actually, I'm trying to be helpful in the proper manner. But if you'd rather I investigate this on my own…"

  That did the trick. He wiped the pizza grease from his hands and closed the distance between us. "Nice to know you've finally been listening when I tell you not to get involved." He pulled a pair of latex gloves from the top drawer of the desk and slid them over his beefy hands. The fact that I didn't make any type of joke demonstrated how much I'd matured in the last six months.

  His face scrunched up from the smell that escaped. He reminded me of a Cabbage Patch doll Gram had given me for my birthday one year. "Where on earth did you find this, and what does it have to do with the case?"

  I pulled up the photo on my phone and enlarged it to show the image. "Tan and I discovered this impression on the back of the shed, near where Donny…the victim's body was found. I wasn't sure what it was but wanted to capture it in case it was important later."

  The doll face disappeared, replaced by dismay-tinted frustration. It was a look I'd become all too accustomed to seeing on his face, which is why it was so easy to identify. "I'm hearing about this now?"

  "In all fairness, I didn't even know it was relevant until Bree found these jeans in the trash can. And…" I cut off his accusation before he could levy it against me. "She just found them a short time ago."

  My intent had been to appease him. Based on the hue of his skin turning to match his face and the way the vein in his neck started to throb, I was sure my words had missed their mark. He glared in my direction. "I don't know what I have to do to get it through both of your thick skulls that you should call the police the moment you suspect or find something. Why is it so hard for you to grasp such a simple concept?" He grabbed an evidence bag and sat down at the desk to begin filling out the information. "Email me the picture."

  Not wanting to further escalate his ire, I dutifully typed in the address as he recited it to me. "On its way. If I could explain…"

  "Not interested, Ms. Waters. One of these days you're going to realize why chain of command is important."

  The temptation to explain why Bree and I did things the way we did taunted me like a little devil sitting on my left shoulder. Of course, the angel on the right reminded me he wasn't interested in hearing what I had to say. We'd started on the wrong foot, and I'd not yet figured out how to do a little do-si-do to change my dance step.

  Once he'd looked the jeans over, inside and out, bagged and tagged them, the pungent odor diminished. He held it up to the light, carefully studying the apparel. He motioned me over and pointed to a small worn area at the corner of one of the pockets. "From the smell and the damage to the fabric, looks like someone used paint thinner first. See where it almost ate through the material?"

  Peering closer, I did see the spot. "You think that's when they tried something else?"

  "Yes, based on the smell, I think they switched to turpentine or something else, which is a little safer. The paint must've dried, though, as they couldn't get it out of all the stitching. He must've decided to just toss them."

  Detective Marshall and I were agreed that the jeans belonged to a man. I'd need to mark this momentous occasion on my calendar. I wasn't sure what turpentine smelled like, but there was something in the scent on the jeans I'd smelled before. "Can you tell anything else about the perp from the jeans?"

  He grinned, an honest-to-goodness smile. "Perp?"

  I shrugged. "Isn't that what the police call people who are suspected of crimes?"

  "There's no way to prove the person who wore these jeans was the same person who killed our victim. Even if the impression could be proven a match, it could've happened at any time after the coat of paint was applied."

  This time I offered a reluctant grin. "I really hate it when you're right."

  Detective Marshall laughed. "I'm sure you do."

  Hearing what I hoped to be a key piece of evidence stacking up to circumstantial at best sobered my thoughts. "You've got to keep looking. I know my mother didn't do this."

  A flash of sympathy crossed the detective's face. "No kid ever wants to believe their parents are capable of such violence. Heck, I don't want to believe anyone is. But your mother was arguing with the victim. She had motive and opportunity along with access to the murder weapon. The wounds on her hand suggest she also possessed the means. That's the litmus test for guilt."

  A multitude of other scenarios and potential suspects raced to the front of the line to be shared, but I held them back. Even though he'd shown me a little sympathy, Detective Pizza Guy didn't like complications to his investigation, especially without proof. "Are you arresting her?"

  "We're waiting on some forensic evidence. Once that's been confirmed, we'll be filing official charges."

  There was still time. No sense in letting him in on the fact I wasn't giving up, even if he was. "I understand. I don't suppose I can see her?"

  He shook his head. "Visiting hours are long since passed. She's sleeping." His lips pressed into a thin line. "You look a lot like her. I hope you don't follow in her footsteps, or you and I r
eally will be on opposite sides of the law."

  Just like that, our temporary truce had ended. "I'm on the side of justice for both the victim and the accused. For the record, plenty of others had means, motive, and opportunity. Never mind the fact that Donny Z was the son of a major crime boss from Chicago. But I'll let you get back to your pizza. I know how important that is to you."

  It was grumpy, I admit. He really did know how to push every single button I owned. Before exiting, I started to offer one last thought but decided to keep the insight to myself. He'd made it clear my thoughts weren't welcome. "Good night, Detective."

  I shut the door before he could reply, not that I thought he would. Something had occurred to me while fussing at the detective. Donny wasn't tall for a man but still measured at least five-nine or so. My mother was, at best, five-six. Physically, it would've been challenging for her to come up behind Donny, get the guitar strings around his neck, and maintain control while lifting enough to strangle him. Even if she'd managed somehow to get him to his knees, I still doubted she would be strong enough to keep him there, especially if he was fighting for his life.

  I needed to get back to Tan's and deal with my potential Neon Nemesis, but I wanted to make notes while it was still fresh. Once I had my pen and paper, I thought about everyone who had a motive to kill Donny. There was Brock. He certainly possessed a decent amount of upper-body strength and had to be at least six feet tall. Liza had motive and maybe even opportunity, but I wasn't sure her scrawny frame and height would be enough to take on Donny. She was maybe an inch or so shorter than him. Johnny might have had opportunity, but that was about it. Tommy had anger issues, but no one had mentioned him being upset with Donny. Tommy was probably around five-feet-eleven and had a sturdy build, but without motive, I couldn't see him as a possibility.

  I gave it a little more thought. No one else who would even come close to the litmus test for guilt that the detective had pointed out surfaced in my tired brain. If it was a mob hit by a rival family, I'm sure the perp responsible was long gone by now.

  I slung the notepad across the seat. That little piece of investigative brainstorming didn't work out quite like I'd planned. I consoled myself with the promise to give it some more thought when I got home later tonight. For now, my detective work was done and it was time to get back to what I loved to call Tanner time.

  On my way back to Tanner's, I stopped by Vernon and Ruby's place. Their cars were in the drive, but all the lights were out. I grabbed a plastic bag from Tan's car—my Boy Scout truly was always prepared—and wrapped up the scones. Though it was November and the chance of an animal getting into the box was thin, I wanted to give the treats every chance of surviving. Before leaving, I composed a text to Vernon's phone: Scones are on the front porch. Payment for information rendered. Finishing off my statement with a smiley face, I sent the message with a prayer he'd have the information soon. My mother was running out of time.

  The movie was nearing the end once I managed to get back to my place on the couch. Tan immediately snuggled me into his embrace while Ashley made a huffing sound. Neon green shoes and an obvious dislike for me had her at the top of my suspect list for the prankster. Though I wasn't sure why she didn't like me, this was one mystery I intended to solve before I left.

  As the credits rolled, Ms. Montgomery stood and stretched. "I'm going to head to bed. Ashley, you should probably be heading that way too. It is a school night."

  Ashley tossed the pillow on her lap to the floor. "I'm not a baby, Mother. There's only one more day of school left before Thanksgiving break. Not sure why I even have to go tomorrow. It's not like we're going to be doing anything."

  Mrs. Montgomery crossed her arms and assumed an offensive posture. I could see in her eyes, though, she was tired of this fight. I wonder if that's how Gram felt when dealing with Harmony. I hoped Ashley didn't follow the same path my mother had. Maybe Ashley was who Detective Pizza Guy should be worried about. "Right now, your job is school. If you aren't doing anything, then make sure you have a good book to read."

  "Whatever." She turned to storm out of the room. At the door, she hesitated and caught Tan's gaze. "Come say good night after she leaves." Her tone with him was much softer than it had been with her mother. Maybe she had an issue with women.

  "Sure thing, sis."

  I didn't want to let my opportunity to speak with her and resolve this linger for another minute. I gave Tan a kiss on the cheek. "I need to talk to your sister. Give me a couple minutes, okay? I'll be right back." Following Ashley's steps, I found her in the hallway going through her backpack. Maybe her bark was worse than her bite, as she was at least going through the motions of preparing for school the next day.

  "What do you want?" Her demeanor had returned to Ms. Grumpy.

  I pointed to the shoes I'd noticed when I first came in. "Nice shoes. Interesting color."

  "Not your style or color, so keep your compliments to yourself." She needed to check her attitude, or I might have to unleash just a small grain of the frustration I'd been feeling over the past few days on her blonde head.

  "You're right. I wouldn't be caught dead in those, but I did catch sight of someone wearing those shoes leaving the scene of some pranks perpetrated at my expense."

  "You've got some nerve accusing me. First you steal my brother away, and now you make false accusations. There are plenty of other guys in Danger Cove. Why'd you have to pick my brother? You're one of those girls who just has to have it all, aren't you?!"

  With her string of accusations, she grabbed the shoes and the backpack and stormed away right about the time Tanner arrived. At least in her anger she'd revealed why she was upset with me. I couldn't even say that I blamed her. She was right. She'd lost her father, and Tan was pulling double-duty as man of the house and brother. She needed him around.

  Strong arms circled me from behind. "Everything okay? I heard raised voices and came to see what was going on."

  Inhaling deeply, I let the ocean scent of his cologne calm me. "No, but they will be. She needs some time—time with you. As much as I enjoy hanging out, she misses you."

  "Still, she shouldn't have lashed out at you. I'll go talk to her right now."

  My lips curled in a smile. Caveman Tanner had returned. I kinda liked this side of him, though I'd never confess that detail to him. I held him close. "I'm fine. Not the first time I've been yelled at, won't be the last. Why don't you see if you can get her to come over to the tavern after school tomorrow? I'll have Clara whip up her favorite snack."

  His embrace tightened around me, and I was the lucky recipient of a soft kiss in the curve of my neck. Giving up time with him would be tough, but family was important. Her words had hurt, but I understood where they came from and didn't blame her. I did hope now that her misdeeds had been identified, she'd at least stop pranking me.

  "Not sure we should reward her bad behavior toward you."

  "Reward nothing. I'm hoping I can con her into helping us out in the kitchen over the Thanksgiving break. You know how slammed we've been." Add to that the fact that I had no idea how long before Abe would disappear into the night. I was just trying to be proactive in making sure we could keep everything moving and our customers satisfied at the tavern.

  The centipedes carried liquid nitrogen up and down my spine, creating a deep chill. I hadn't thought of it before but couldn't discount the possibility of another person who had means, motive, and opportunity to kill Donny. He also possessed the size and strength to carry out the dirty deed, even if he hadn't been the one to leave the smudges in the paint.

  My friend, soon-to-be member of the witness protection program, Abe Sanders.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Freddie was waiting for me on the steps when I arrived home. He reeked of cigarette smoke. "Please tell me you didn't take up the habit."

  He scrunched his face up. "What?"

  "You smell like a chimney factory. Did you start smoking?" I stepped past him to unlock my
door, burying my mouth in the crook of my arm for a brief cough. My gaze did a quick sweep over the area again, just to be sure no bugs were waiting to get inside as well.

  He turned his head and sniffed his leather jacket. "Crap. I didn't even think of that. Not sure how Tucker feels about smoke. Hope he won't be mad and kick me out or anything."

  The fear in his voice prompted me to reassure him before I fussed anymore. "Tucker is the most laid-back guy I've ever met. I don't think you're going to lose your home." Freddie had moved from New York and traveled to Vegas. He'd tried to make a living as a male dancer, but the allure of all the lights had made it hard for him to focus and stay on point. Tucker, the owner of One Man's Trash here in Danger Cove, had found him hanging out with some of the homeless in Seattle. They'd started talking, found a common bond, and become good friends. Tucker had offered to let Freddie stay with him until he could get on his feet. "Even if Tucker is okay with it, didn't you think you'd smell like smoke if you took up the habit? Geez, Freddie, I gave you more credit than that. Of course, I didn't expect you would bail on your coworkers either, but…"

  Freddie jumped to his feet and followed me inside. He stopped for a moment, shed his jacket, and tossed it outside my door. I appreciated him not wanting to smell up my apartment. I think there was something about smoking in my lease but couldn't be sure. He shut the door and stepped in my path toward hot tea in the kitchen. "Lilly, stop for just a minute and let me explain."

  The lavender in my wall plug gave me enough calm to stop, lean against the wall, cross my arms, and gesture for him to continue. "I'm listening."

  He dragged his fingers through the shiny black hair. In the faint lighting, I noticed the dark circles accenting his olive skin. "First, I'm really sorry."

  "About?" Yeah, no way was I making this easy for him.