by A W Hartoin
“We know. Mr. Thatcher disappeared sometime after dinner at The Aviary and before six o’clock this morning. How well do you know him?”
My mind raced. Andrew missing, not Colin. Colin was a better candidate in my book.
“Hardly at all,” I said. “We got open water certified together, but that’s about it.”
“You want to stick with that?”
“Yes. I don’t really know him. I don’t know everyone.”
“You were seen coming out of his room last night,” said Tabora.
Oh, shit! Do I lie? What would Dad do? Oh, hell. Dad wouldn’t have gotten caught. He wouldn’t have left fingerprints. Idiot.
I set the coffee mug on the mini fridge and put up my hands. “You got me. I was in their room last night for about ten minutes.”
Tabora couldn’t have been more surprised to hear the truth and that alone made it worth it. I loved surprising men. They always think they know me.
“You admit you were in his room?” he asked slowly.
“Yep. It was stupid, but I’d had a few.”
“A few what?”
“Glasses of wine. I’m a lightweight.” I grinned and tried to look like a saucy minx.
“So you were drunk and you broke into Thatcher’s room.”
“Not break in, went in.”
With the help of lock picks.
“Why did you go into his room?”
I swallowed. Just do it. He already thinks you’re a sleazy slut.
“Andrew is really hot, so you know…”
“Spell it out for me.”
“Well…”
It’s okay. It’s not as bad as the trash can thing.
“I was going to hide in his room and seduce him, but he didn’t come back,” I said.
“You wanted to get naked in that room?” asked Tabora with a snort.
It is as bad. That room’s like the inside of a trash can.
“Like I said, he didn’t come back. No harm. No foul.”
Tabora’s young partner jiggled his handcuffs and a bead of sweat ran down his cheek. His eyes scanned my injuries. He flushed and his breathing sped up. What did the lie spotting handbook say about that? Sexual attraction.
Oh, crap. That’s just what I need.
“Mercy Watts, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering,” said Tabora. “Cuff her, Pinto.”
Pinto unclipped his cuffs so fast, you’d have thought it was his birthday. I stepped back and bumped into the mini fridge and the mug fell onto the tile, shattering in a million pieces. Aunt Tenne ran out of her bedroom. “What’s going on?”
“We’re arresting your niece,” said Tabora.
Aunt Tenne barged over, shoved me behind her, and put her finger in his face. “You are not. She’s a United States citizen.”
“I don’t care if she’s a citizen of Mars. I’m arresting her for breaking and entering.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “You think I kidnapped Andrew Thatcher.”
“That’s ridiculous,” said Aunt Tenne. “She was here all night.”
Pinto tried to dodge my aunt’s large form and grab my wrist.
“That guy isn’t putting handcuffs on me,” I said.
“It’ll be worse if you resist me,” said Pinto.
“I doubt it.”
“Get her, Pinto,” said Tabora.
That’s when it hit me. Aunt Tenne could hold them off only for so long. I was going to be arrested in a foreign country. Scenes from Locked Up Abroad ran through my mind. For the first time in my life, I was beyond Dad’s long reach. He couldn’t help me. Pinto would put handcuffs on me and I wouldn’t be able to protect myself. He liked my bruises and he’d make more.
“She was here all night,” said Aunt Tenne. “Mercy doesn’t even know that man.”
“She wanted to have sex with him,” said Tabora.
“Mercy!”
“I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea,” I said, jumped to her other side away from Pinto’s grasping hand.
“What about Pete?”
“Who’s Pete?” asked Tabora.
“Her boyfriend,” said Aunt Tenne.
“You have two boyfriends?”
“Yes!” I yelled as Pinto grabbed the hem of my dress and I slapped the crap out of him. “No!”
“Which is it?” asked Tabora.
“Neither.”
“Mercy!” said Aunt Tenne. “I’m ashamed of you.”
“Me, too,” I said.
“Pinto, arrest her!” yelled Tabora.
“I’m trying to, but she won’t stay still. I like that.” He lunged at me and we went down on the tile.
Aunt Tenne smacked Pinto on the back of the head. “Stop that. She didn’t do it.”
Tabora yanked her back. “You weren’t here last night. You don’t know where she was.”
Aaron walked in, eating a foot-long hot dog. He chewed and watched Pinto trying to cuff me.
“Tell him, Aaron!” I yelled.
“Huh?”
“Where I was last night!”
Pinto pinned me and got one cuff on.
“Where?” asked Aaron.
“Aaron, he’s arresting me in Honduras. Honduras! Tell him where I was last night. He thinks I kidnapped Andrew Thatcher.”
“Oh.” He took a bite and thought about it.
“Aaron!”
“She was here. I put her to bed,” he said.
Tabora looked at the ceiling. “And where were you?”
Aaron chewed.
Oh, god! Please be a normal guy. Be where a normal guy would be.
“In bed with her?” he asked.
Yes!
“You aren’t sure?” asked Tabora.
Aaron looked at his dog. It was more interesting than me on the floor with one handcuff and a cop on top of me.
Aunt Tenne poked him.
“We had sex like next to the trash can,” said Aaron finally.
I want to die.
Aunt Tenne stared down at me. “Mercy, what is he saying?”
“I’m disgusting. It’s time you knew the truth,” I said. “But I don’t know anything about Andrew. I would’ve thought Colin would be the one, if anyone.”
Pinto grabbed my free wrist and inched it closer to the other cuff.
“Stop, Pinto,” said Tabora.
You never saw a man so disappointed, but he did roll off, thankfully. That wasn’t a banana in his pocket.
“What was that about Colin?” asked Tabora.
Aaron helped me up. I held out my wrist with the dangling cuffs to Pinto. “Key, please.”
He reluctantly unlocked me, but stood way too close.
“You were saying?”
I rubbed my wrist. “I overheard Colin’s friends talking about him. Something about a plan and a debt. Joe wanted to pay the debt and Andrew didn’t.”
“Why were you eavesdropping on them?” asked Tabora.
“Right place. Right time. I thought it might have something to do with Lucia. They were pretty upset.”
“What do you think now?”
“I think Colin’s a raging alcoholic and he’s gotten himself into a bad situation. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the Carrows, but anything’s possible. Colin needs money for something. Killing pays.”
Tabora rubbed his chin. “There’s still the matter of you breaking into their room.”
“That was a mistake. You saw that place. It was a cesspool.”
“And you wanted to get naked in it.”
“Mercy, my god. What is wrong with you?” asked Aunt Tenne.
As nauseating as it was I had to keep up the lie. “I was only going to get a little naked,” I said. “I’m young. I’m stupid. You can’t hold that against me.”
Pinto jiggled his cuffs again. “I say we arrest her to be on the safe side. She did resist me.”
“Every woman resists you,” said Tabora. “Miss Watts, give me your passport and I won’t arrest you. I can’t
have you leaving the island before this is resolved.”
Not the ideal solution, but I got my passport and handed it over. Pinto tried to take it, but Tabora intervened. His radio crackled and a voice said something about a bloodstain.
“Stay where I can find you,” he said and went out the door.
Pinto grinned and said in my ear, “Where I can find you.”
Tabora yelled outside and Pinto hustled out the door. Aunt Tenne slammed it behind him and crossed her arms. “You want to tell me what’s going on around here?”
Not really.
“Mercy.” There was a warning in her voice.
I peeked out the curtains and watched Pinto knock on Lucia’s door. She didn’t answer.
“They’re gone,” said Aaron.
“Where are they?”
“Down at the beach.”
“You took them to the beach?” I asked.
He shrugged. “They just went.”
“On foot?”
“Yeah.”
I flung open the door and about a dozen island cops looked up at me and snickered. I ran down the stairs and went toward the beach. Aunt Tenne was yelling my name, but I kept going. Aaron was right behind me, if I went by the huffing and puffing. The oceanside restaurant was packed. A cruise ship must’ve docked. I couldn’t see them anywhere. My heart rate went up another notch. The last time I couldn’t find them, Graeme had been poisoned. I ran to the bar and went up on my tiptoes. An arm went around my waist. Pinto. I raised my hand and a well-tanned one grabbed my hand and spun me around into a broad chest. Mauro.
“Thank god,” I said.
“I’m not usually called a god, but I’ll take it.”
“Where’s Lucia and Graeme? I have to find them.”
“You’re panicking.”
“Not helping.” I struggled in his arms. “Let go.”
“They’re with your mother and Dixie. They’re fine.” He pointed at the best table in the house, next to the railing overlooking the ocean, and then pulled me to his chest. My head ended up on his very hard pec, sexy but not comfortable. “Try to relax. Everything isn’t on your shoulders.”
“Oh, you think not? Andrew Thatcher is missing and I almost got arrested for it. We can’t get off this island ahead of schedule and now Tabora has my passport.”
“Let’s hope they find Andrew,” said Mauro, his chest rumbled beneath my cheek.
“They found blood,” I said.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“In my world it does.” I heard Mom’s voice calling me. “I have to go.”
“I wish you wouldn’t,” he said.
“I have a boyfriend.”
“You and Aaron don’t seem that serious.”
“It’s hard to explain our relationship,” I said.
Aaron’s voice came over my shoulder and chilled me. “We had sex last night.”
Not now. Not when a super hot guy is hugging me.
I looked over my shoulder at my so-called partner who was sweaty and holding a fresh hot dog.
“You don’t have to tell him that. He’s not the cops,” I said.
“That’s what happened.” He looked pretty sure about it, too.
Mauro’s chest shook. “So you want to tell me something.”
The truth would be nice, but no.
I took one more breath of his coconutty scent before pushing him away. “Yes. It was a fiery night of…passion.”
Aaron stuffed the rest of his hot dog in his mouth. My lover. Sexy. He swallowed so hard, it looked like it hurt, and then said, “You hungry?”
“Yes, but no crab,” I said.
Aaron did an about-face and trotted into the restaurant. His cutoff acid-wash jeans slipped down and I got a flash of his hairy rear. Now the morning was perfect.
“You got a great guy there,” said Mauro, grinning like Dad when he was bothering Mom senseless.
“Don’t tease me. I can’t take it.”
“I’m not teasing you. Aaron is great. No one cooks like him.”
“I’ll give you that.”
Linda and Frankie Gmuca came around the other side of the bar. Linda carried two tall glasses filled with orange foam. Frankie pointed to Mom’s table and they headed over.
“Oh, no,” I said.
“What?” asked Mauro.
I didn’t answer. Linda and Frankie marched over to the table and Linda placed the glasses in front of Lucia and Graeme.
“Gotta go.” I ran through the restaurant, dodging early drunks from the cruise ships and narrowly missed stepping on a toddler getting ready to stuff sand in his gullet.
Mom spotted me and her perfect, unbruised brow wrinkled. Lucia reached for the glass and Mom’s eyebrows shot up, but she seemed frozen. I dashed up to their table, just as Linda and Frankie were ready to sit down. “Hey,” I gasped. “What’s going on?”
“We feel so good today,” said Lucia, “you wouldn’t believe it.”
Back away from the glass.
Since Lucia couldn’t read minds, she extended the straw to her pursed lips.
Noooo!
“Oh, my gosh!” said Dixie, jumping to her feet. “There’s that guy who…who got bitten by a shark.”
Linda and Frankie turned to look. I grabbed glasses and tossed the contents over my shoulders.
“What the fuck!” yelled a guy on the beach behind me.
Luckily, the restaurant deck was over his head and Linda and Frankie couldn’t see the undoubtedly drenched tourist below when they turned back.
“What was that?” asked Frankie.
“What?” I asked.
“Somebody’s yelling.”
Mom turned on the charm and believe me that’s saying something. I’d never known anyone to resist Mom. She smiled and batted her eyes that somehow grew two sizes. “You know those rowdy cruise ship passengers drunk at this time of the morning.”
Mom’s magic was working but the yelling below us was only increasing.
“Hey,” said Linda. “What happened to your drinks? We had those made special.”
I bet you did, you horny lunatics.
I put my hand on my chest and batted my own eyes. I admit I don’t have the track record of Mom, but I’ve been known to get my way. “I’m so sorry. I thought those were for me.”
“You drank both of them?” asked Frankie, astonished.
“I was starving. It’s been a long couple of days,” I said. “Those were delicious by the way. What was in those?”
An enraged howl came up from the beach. “I will freaking kill somebody, man!”
Oh, no.
“It’s my special elixir,” said Frankie. “I developed it after teaching fourth grade for a couple of years. Keeps you healthy.”
A man covered in orange goo came stomping up the restaurant stairs, looking around like a crazed Sissy Spacek from the movie, Carrie.
Mom saw him, too. “Dixie, you have a pen. Can you write down that recipe for me? I have to see a man about a thing.”
Dixie produced a pen from her purse and bent over her napkin with Linda and Frankie. Mom ran for my drink victim and rage melted into “There’s Marilyn Monroe, running right for me.” Half the restaurant had that look. The other half was too drunk to notice. Mom stopped him. She touched his shoulder and flipped back her hair. Shameless, thank goodness.
Aaron came trotting out of the kitchen, carrying a full platter. I didn’t know what it was and I didn’t care. I met him halfway, took him by the arm, and steered him in the direction of the drink guy.
“I don’t have time to explain,” I said. “Just go with it.”
“Huh?”
We reached Mom and the guy, who looked worse close-up. He had a formerly white tee on that was now orange and he’d wiped the orange out of his eyes, leaving a strange kind of mask.
“Sir,” I said. “We apologize for this accident.”
He squinted at me. “There are two of you? What happened to your face?”
“Scooter accident.” I took the platter from Aaron. “Please accept this gourmet brunch as an apology.”
He took the platter from me, probably because he didn’t know what else to do and Mom was purring at him. “What is it?”
“That is the famous breakfast from the Kronos Café in St. Louis. And this is Aaron the chef.”
“Hey,” said Aaron.
“You’ll love it,” said Mom. “Aaron’s the best in the world.”
“It does smell good, but what about my clothes? I don’t go back to the ship for another five hours.”
Mom dimpled at him. “We’ll take care of you.” She turned him around and had him back down the stairs before he knew what happened.
I put my head on Aaron’s shoulder. “Dude, I owe you one.”
“You owe me eleven.”
“Eleven?”
“Yeah. I cracked the guy that was trying to kill you and—”
“That was a woman,” I said.
“And I went to Lincoln with you on that case,” said Aaron.
“That was not my idea.”
“I stole Rodney’s car for you.”
“Never mind,” I said. “I owe you eleven.” If it were any other guy, I would’ve said, “Don’t get any ideas about how I might pay you back,” but Aaron’s idea of payback was probably getting to feed me. I could live with that.
“You still hungry?” asked Aaron.
“Well, since I didn’t eat anything, yes.”
He trotted back to the kitchen and I returned to the table.
Dixie looked up from a laundry list of ingredients. “This sounds great. Mercy, do you want to go to the bar and have them made while we order?” She was pretty beady-eyed, so I took the list and went back to the bar. Mauro was still there, now talking to two girls in Brazilian bikinis. They kept turning and flashing their buns at him. Classy.
I leaned over the bar and spoke to Alex the bartender. “Did you make a couple of drinks with this stuff?”
He looked at my list. “Sure did. Weird combo, but smelled good. Why?”
“Because the Gmucas were trying to give them to the Carrows.”
Alex squinted at me. “There’s nothing in there that could hurt them, I swear.”
“Did you leave them alone with the drinks before they took them to the table?”
“Yeah. I’ve got other customers. These cruisers are total lushes.”
I put my head on the bar. “Great.”
“You don’t think the Gmucas did the antifreeze thing, do you?” asked Alex.
