A Few Good Women (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 9)

by Camilla Chafer

  "I didn't know what happened to you," I told him, my worry receding.

  "I think I told you I was taking a temporary transfer of duty."

  "Yeah, but I didn't think that meant disappearing entirely. Where did you go?"

  "Paris, and a few other places."

  "Paris," I sighed. Paris topped my bucket list of places to see and I was pretty sure Maddox knew that. I mentioned it plenty enough when we were together. The city of love had captivated me for years but I never managed to save enough money to go there. One day I would; I would make sure of that. I would see all the most opulent sights, hit up the tourist hot spots and while away my afternoons sipping wine spritzers in chic, little sidewalk cafés. I might even try escargot. "You are so lucky! Did you see the Eiffel Tower?"

  "Yes, and more; and yes, you would love it."

  "Did you hit a lucky streak or what? Why can't I find a job that sends me to Paris? Should I join the FBI?"

  "It wasn't exactly for the FBI."

  "Then who was it for? And are they hiring? I'm available."

  "I can't tell you." Maddox winked.

  "But are they hiring?" I persisted, mostly joking, unless Steadman continued to ruin my life. Then I was all for hightailing it out of the country. Would Solomon come with me? Hell, he probably had contacts that could parachute us under the radar into any country we liked.

  "They prefer their own approach but I'll let them know you're interested," said Maddox. I couldn't tell if he were serious or not, since he still had that amused glint in his eye.

  "Only if the job is glitzy. Where did you stay? The Four Seasons? The Ritz?"

  "Not that kind of budget."

  "Then I may have to rethink my future career plans. I'm seeking glamour."

  "I can see that," said Maddox. He raised an eyebrow as he took in my telephoto lens, empty soda bottle and the crumpled wrapper of a candy bar I'd eaten yesterday. "You are living the dream, Lexi Graves. Who's the target?"

  I looked back toward the sidewalk and my shoulders slumped. My target was gone, along with the mystery woman. "Did you see where they went?" I asked, scanning for any sign of them. So much for my stakeout!

  Maddox followed my gaze. "Do I know who you're looking for?"

  "Jord."

  "You're tailing Jord? Jord? As in your brother, Jord?"

  "The very same."

  Maddox sighed and shook his head. "Dare I ask what he did?"

  "Nope."

  "I'm glad I didn't ask. Isn't it kind of unethical to tail a family member?"

  "Only if they know about it," I quipped, which didn't settle the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Maddox was right: it probably wasn’t ethical to tail Jord but I didn’t know what else I could do. If Lily were wrong, she needed to know. If she were right, she needed to know. Plus, I reasoned, if Jord were completely innocent, what did it matter? Didn't that mean I was working in his best interests too? Try as I might, I doubted Jord would see it that way if he ever discovered I was following him.

  "You just did a lot of thinking," said Maddox.

  "I lost him. I hoped to wrap this up quick."

  "Why don't you just ask him?"

  I shrugged. "It's not that easy."

  "That’s how misunderstandings begin," said Maddox as he reached for the handle and popped the door open. He climbed out and leaned down, putting just his head inside the car. "Bad misunderstandings," he added. I wasn't sure if the point was about a particularly bad misunderstanding from our past or just in general but he held my gaze a moment longer than necessary. He was right, of course, but what should I have done in such a delicate situation as this? I owed it to Lily and Jord to find a simple explanation. I wouldn't repeat the errors of the past. This time, I would be sure of the situation before jumping to any conclusions.

  "Let's catch up soon?" said Maddox, giving me a hopeful look.

  "Are you staying in town?"

  He nodded. "For now," he said as he shut the door, leaving me puzzled. It was unlike Maddox to be unusually cryptic. We'd been friends for a long time, and significantly involved for some of that. I've fallen in love three times in my life. Anthony was the first, a word that, come to think of it, rhymes with worst. Maddox was second, but our romance was prematurely cut short. Solomon was my third time lucky. I was grateful that Maddox and I could both push the pain of our parting aside for a solid friendship. I couldn't imagine my life without him. I really missed him these past few weeks and the idea of being ghosted genuinely hurt me.

  His comment about misunderstandings had everything to do with a very bad misunderstanding we had. It ended our relationship, which had been wonderful right up to the point when he took an undercover job without filling me in on some crucial details. Being friends again now was testament to how much we cared about each other. Truthfully, my feelings about him were confusing for a long time, between the anger and distress, but I had to let those go once I made a very real commitment to Solomon. I cared about Maddox too much to play with his emotions; and I loved Solomon too much to be anything less than entirely committed. However, being human, I, more than once, caught a glance from Maddox that I couldn't decipher, and more than once, wondered if we might still be together had it not been for that misunderstanding.

  The biggest issue on my mind at the moment was: why hadn't he made contact during the three months since I last saw him?

  Even though I hadn't flown to Paris yet, I was pretty damn sure they had cell phone reception there. Did his silence mean Maddox was purposefully cutting me from his life for those weeks? Or was he doing something that monopolized all of his time? Seeing how happy he appeared... could that something possibly have been a she?

  Then I saw the redhead exiting the café and I had to push Maddox to the far recesses of my mind. She didn't stop and wait for Jord so I guessed he must have left while my attentions were otherwise occupied. She walked along the street, all sassy hips and swinging hair. I raised my camera and snapped more shots as she stopped at a flower stall and sniffed the blooms, intermittently talking to the vendor and pointing at the buckets. The vendor said something before gathering long stems in pink and white under her selection, and wrapping them in cellophane. He pointed to something on the small table where scissors and a cash register sat. She reached forwards, picking up a pen and writing something. They spoke again and she pulled a slim wallet from her purse, paying the vendor in cash before taking the flowers. A moment later, she climbed into a convertible and took off, zipping around the corner before I could even turn on the ignition. Following her would have been futile. The route she took quickly forked into two streets and if I got the wrong one, I’d only be chasing air.

  I glanced again at the flower vendor. They spoke at length and she wrote down something. With nothing better to do, I stowed the camera under the passenger seat and got out of the car, walking over to the vendor. I stopped at the buckets bursting with color and sweet fragrances and pretended to browse.

  "What can I get for you?" asked the man. Up close, he was younger than I initially estimated. His sandy hair was tucked under a cap that read "Barton's Blooms."

  "I just saw someone carrying a really pretty bouquet and she said she got it here. They were pink and white blooms. It's my mom's birthday," I lied. "She was just here. Red hair."

  "That must have been Diane," he said. "Good customer."

  "That's right, Diane! She shops here often?"

  "Sure. She loves flowers and so do her clients. She needed the flowers for a wedding shower she organized. The bride-to-be loves my gerberas."

  "She's a party planner?" I guessed.

  "Sure, parties, interiors, that kind of thing. Diane Young. Ever heard of her?"

  "No, but I'll make sure to get her card if I see her again."

  "She does all kinds of parties. What did you want for your mom?"

  "My mom?" I frowned.

  "The flowers for her birthday," he prompted. "What does she like? Classic? Wildflowers? A living plant?"

/>   "Roses," I told him. "I'm not sure what color she prefers. She loves them all."

  "Why don't I make her a mixed posy and throw in a little gypsophilia to lighten it up?"

  "Sounds perfect," I smiled as he reached for yellow, white and pink roses. When he had a dozen stems in his hand in six different shades, he added sprays of a delicate white flower before rolling them up in cellophane and finishing with a yellow bow.

  "How's that?" he asked, presenting it with a flourish.

  I had to smile. My mother would have loved getting the bouquet on her birthday. "Perfect."

  "Don't forget to add your email address to our mailing list," he added. "My wife set it up. She can send you reminders for birthdays and any other special events. We deliver too. If you sign up, there's a special prize for a lucky winner as well. A rose bouquet of your choice for you or a loved one. You can sign up there." He held out a pen and grabbed a clipboard from the little table. I ran my eyes down it and there it was: Diane Young's name, email address and phone number. I wrote my own details underneath as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. Pretending to ask for Barton Bloom's shop number, I was actually discreetly punching in Diane's details. A few minutes later, and with a noticeably lighter wallet, I left the stall behind.

  "I guess I better give you to my mom," I told the flowers. "At least she'll be briefly happy before I detonate the bomb of my investigation to my family."

  ~

  My parents still lived in the same house where they raised five kids. My mother said the white and yellow painted exterior was pretty as a daisy; but most of us kids thought it resembled a two-story egg, albeit a happy egg. Five kids grew up playing in the garden and learned to ride bikes on the sidewalk. Five kids played and frolicked at family barbecues, loud Christmases, and more birthday parties than I could count. All five kids eventually moved out, and they multiplied. Now they returned frequently with partners, six kids and another on the way. Every child, that is, except for me, as my mother so insistently likes to remind me. I can still recall my mother's thrilled face a few months ago. After a huge misunderstanding, she thought I might be pregnant. Unfortunately for her, I had no plans to reproduce anytime soon. I had too many criminals to catch first. That didn't stop me, however, from thinking about the day when it would happen. Solomon and I were engaged, but not quite ready to talk about weddings. Setting a wedding date would surely happen soon, and after that... I could see kids in our future. Solomon once thought I was pregnant and he was happy about it. Unfortunately, he erroneously thought he discovered my positive pregnancy test; but he'd actually found Lily's.

  Sure, I could see us having a family, I just didn't know when. Is there ever a right time? Probably not, I decided. The time would be right whenever it happened.

  My mother answered the door on the second knock. "How's your biological clock?" she asked, beaming despite the loaded question. Or maybe it was because of it.

  I held up the flowers. "I brought you flowers!"

  "Because you're..." she started.

  "Happy to see you!" I finished.

  "Oh, well, okay. This is a nice surprise. Serena dropped by with Victoria. We're in the kitchen teaching Victoria how to smear food all over her face. She's a natural. Please tell me you haven't been arrested again. Is that why you brought flowers? It is, isn't it? Oh, Alexandra!" Mom gave an exasperated cry, turned and headed towards the kitchen as I followed. "Serena, your sister was arrested again!"

  "I was not! Ignore Mom. She's making stuff up," I told my sister. Serena glanced up from tending Victoria, and shook her head before giving me an eye roll. I wasn't sure if that was in response to my arrest or to Mom jumping to conclusions. "Hi, sweetie," I said, dropping a kiss on Victoria's head.

  "’Exi," said Victoria while pointing her fat little finger at me.

  "She said my name!" I squealed as I high-fived Victoria. She squealed back and bounced on the step before throwing a spoon on the floor.

  "No, Victoria," said Serena as she stooped to pick up the spoon and toss it into the sink. "No throwing spoons."

  "She's going to be a softball star," said Dad upon entering. He grabbed his keys from the counter. "Or a tear-away terror like Sam."

  Serena's jaw stiffened. "She’ll be nothing like Sam. She's going to be a good girl."

  "Nothing wrong with Sam," replied Dad, but he left before anyone could remind him of all the pranks Sam had pulled. Fortunately, that meant no one could remind me how I taught him more than a few.

  "We were just talking about my engagement dinner," said Serena. "Alessandro's said they’d create a special menu for it."

  "Really?" I asked dryly. The annoyance I felt at Serena stealing my engagement party date gnawed away at me uncomfortably. Thankfully, until now, I was too busy to think about it. I suddenly realized Solomon's siblings were flying in and there was no party for them to attend. I needed to rearrange something and quickly, but what?

  "Isn't it nice?" chipped in Mom. "You know what would be nicer? If you and Serena hosted the party together. You're both engaged, and we’re all the same family..."

  "Except for Antonio's," butted in Serena.

  "Or Solomon's," I added.

  "It's so expensive to host a dinner of that size, you two could help each other out." Mom looked from me to Serena and grinned as if she just announced the cure for Zika virus.

  "Antonio and I deserve a special day, one that’s just about us," said Serena.

  "That's a wedding, dear."

  "Do you want me to share that too? Anyway, Lexi and Solomon should have their own special engagement party too."

  For once, I found myself agreeing with Serena. Not that I thought she was being altruistic in anyway, but because she didn't want to share the occasion any more than I did. For once, it looked like we'd have to team up against our mother's suggestion. Since Serena and I rarely saw eye-to-eye on anything, not while growing up or even in our adult years, moments like this always confused me.

  Serena was the golden girl of the family: the one who aced every college prep class and went to Harvard before landing a steady career as an accountant. I, on the other hand, got engaged young, split up when it turned out he cheated on me with anyone he could, and joined the Army before abandoning that fiasco and becoming a temp. While Serena could lord her smart choices over me any day of the week, she could never forgive me for being born a girl. I took away her princess role in a family of boys. Although a bad marriage softened her smartass attitude over the years, and meeting Antonio Delgado did make her considerably happier, outside of a brief few months where we'd been friendly, I was still sure she saw me as her competition; and Serena invariably crushed the competition.

  "I agree," I said, backing her up. "Serena had a terrible marriage and she deserves to get another shot at doing everything right. This might be her last wedding." Oops. That came out wrong.

  Serena shot a dagger at me with her eyes. "And Lexi only just hooked a man after years and years and years of trying to find a decent one..."

  "We all liked Adam Maddox," pointed out Mom. "He was decent. She could have married him."

  "We all liked the one that got away. Let's just be happy Lexi hasn't screwed up her engagement to Solomon... yet," finished Serena, a smug smile on her lips.

  The pain in my chest stopped me from making any smart retort. Did she really think Maddox was the one that got away? Or that I could still screw things up with Solomon? Now that I thought about it, having the finger pointed at me for a recently murdered ex-fiancé didn't exactly help the party planning. Nor did Maddox suddenly popping up from nowhere after months of silence. My sister's mean streak was always laser-pointed, landing right where it hurt the most.

  "So, Lexi will just have to find somewhere else," said Serena. "Right, Lexi?"

  "Right," I agreed softly, thinking about Lily's offer of her available private room at the bar. Maybe she could keep her mind off the impending birth by helping me plan my party?

  "So long as you
girls are sure..." started Mom, only stopping when we both nodded. "Okay then. That's settled. Now maybe Lexi can catch us up on Anthony's murder."

  "Mom!" Serena held her hands over Victoria's ears. "She understands things and repeats them. I don't want her going to her playgroup and talking about m-u-r-d-e-r!"

  "What happened with you-know-who and you-know-what?" asked Mom slowly.

  "Still d-e-a-d as far as I know," I told her, pointing with two fingers like a gun as I mimed pew-pew. "But there's no b-o-d-y yet."

  "Do you think he did it deliberately?"

  "What? Get killed?"

  "K-i-l-l-e-d," spelled Serena with a look that could k-i-l-l.

  "Yes. No. Hmmm." Mom paused, looking thoughtful. "Isn't it convenient that he disappears just when things are getting hot again? Garrett told me about Anthony's difficulties."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's in trouble and suddenly, bam! He's d-e-a-d but there's no b-o-d-y and he's off the h-o-o-k."

  "You can say hook, Mom," said Serena.

  "I was afraid you might think it was a weapon."

  "Pew-pew," said Victoria, aiming a two-finger gun at me as Serena gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Pew-pew, 'Exi. Pew-pew, Mommy! Dead!"

  Silence spread across the room. Slowly, Serena's eyes rose to meet mine. I stepped backwards and jumped as my phone rang. "I have to get that. It could be important," I murmured while quickly turning away. I was heading out of the room just as Serena began to complain very loudly about my negative influence on her daughter.

  "Hey, Daniel," I said, seeing his name on the screen as I lifted the phone to my ear.

  "Lexi, you gotta come to the station." His voice had an unusual sense of urgency that immediately put me on edge.

  "Why? What happened?" I asked, cautiously because I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer. Had they found Anthony? Did they want me to, gulp, identify his body?