As soon as they stepped through the front doors, a woman in a plum-colored suit tailored to fit her every curve greeted them.
“Mr. Zelaznik, what a pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’m Courtney Reyes. Our membership committee chairperson just called and said I was to give you a full tour of the club. If you’re ready?”
Marty looked at the beautiful woman and then at Ray and Mel. His eyebrows were high on his forehead. “See ya, kids.”
He walked away without looking back.
“How does that ugly buzzard have all the luck?” Ray asked.
“Tennis,” Mel said. She snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Focus, Ray.”
“Yeah, yeah, got it,” he said. He took Mel’s elbow and hustled her through the building, passing a restaurant, a lounge, a gym, and a conference room before pushing through another door that led outside. They followed the oleander-lined walkway, which led to a series of tennis courts.
Mel could her the repeated pah of tennis balls being hit and she felt her hands sweat. Probably, she should have mentioned the only time she’d ever played tennis was in gym in high school, and during that unfortunate season she had only managed to hit the ball over the net once, lobbing it right into her gym teacher’s crotch. The nickname “dead shot” had followed her around for the rest of that school year.
“Now, listen,” Ray said. “My friend rearranged Anton’s schedule so that his lesson with Mallory Cavendish includes him coaching her to play against a woman who is looking to join the club and be coached by him as well. He’s expecting you to be a player of some skill as Mallory is a serious player and is training to play in the club tournament.”
Mel stopped walking. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“What?” Ray goggled at her. “Of course you can. Need I remind you we took on a crazed killer just a few months ago?”
“Yeah, that’s not the argument that’s going to work here,” she said.
“Listen, you want to know if the Child Bride is the killer and I need a shot of the tennis pro being inappropriate with her,” he said. “Mel, I have five hundred bones at stake here. Now, get moving.”
“Fine, but if we get into trouble, we’re telling Joe it was all your idea,” she said.
They began to walk by the courts. Mel watched tan women in cute skirts with matching tops and visors hustle around the court as they whacked all of their life rage out on the little yellow-green balls. She didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there appeared to be a lot of anger management happening out there.
“There they are,” Ray said. He handed Mel her racket and took out his phone. He opened the camera app and then held the phone up to his ear as if taking a call. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Mel said. “I’m supposed to get her to admit she has video of her husband threatening Elise while you catch her in a clinch with her coach.”
“Yeah, so if she doesn’t admit to having the video, try to get her to confess to fooling around with her ball boy.”
Mel rolled her eyes. “This is so stupid.”
Ray opened the gate to the court, which slammed shut after them with a bang, making Mel jump. She had the panicked thought that Mallory might remember her from the book signing, but even if she did, Mel had just been working it and during Child Bride’s altercation with Elise, Mel had been back at her table.
Mallory looked like a model in her sexy hot pink halter top and tennis skirt with the slit up one thigh. Mel glanced down at her polo shirt and pleats and felt like she was in a Catholic schoolgirl uniform. She frowned at Ray.
He waved at the coach and then gestured that he was on a call. The pro looked at him in his leather jacket with a frown and Mel figured she’d better jump in and distract him before he realized they were just a big sham, the canned ham of shams in fact.
“Hi, I’m Melanie,” she said. “I’m here for a lesson.”
Mallory frowned at her and glanced at Ray. “Who’s that?”
“My . . . dog walker,” she said. There was no way she could say “bodyguard” with a straight face. She saw Ray’s eyebrows meet in the middle of his forehead in consternation. Served him right for sticking her in this hideous outfit and for getting the size wrong.
“Dog walker?” Mallory asked. “Where’s your dog?”
“He’s having his weekly therapy session,” Mel said. “He has issues, so Raymond came with me today.”
“Oh,” Mallory said. It was clear she had no idea what to make of Mel or Ray. She gestured to the tennis pro beside her. “This is Anton Argosi, our coach.”
“I see on my schedule that you are a talented tennis player, looking to join the club. You are pleased to join us today,” Anton said.
Mel blinked. His slash of white teeth was so spectacularly perfect that she was temporarily blinded. Add in his perfect physique, thick head of dark curls, and Italian accent and Mel was halfway to smitten herself.
She glanced at Mallory, who looked utterly entranced by the pro. Yeah, if there wasn’t something going on between them Mel would swallow her tennis racket.
“May you go across the court,” Anton said. He gestured for Mel to take the other side.
Mel didn’t really see how she was going to question Mallory from over there. She glanced at Ray and he made a shooing motion with his hands for her to go.
Mel twirled, grabbing the waist of her skirt as she went to keep it from falling down. She moved into position and stood hunched over with her racket across her body, trying to do her best Serena Williams pose. Given that she barely knew how to swing a racket, it felt forced. She rocked from foot to foot, shifting her weight, trying to look ready.
“You return the ball, yes?” Anton yelled.
Mel nodded. Sure, if a small miracle was involved.
Anton took Mallory to the base line. He stood behind her and demonstrated with lots of hands-on instruction how she should toss the ball into the air and then hit it. One ball whizzed by Mel on the right. Another ball whizzed by her on the left. When the third one came at her dead center, she yelped and hit the ground, putting her racket over her head.
There was a snort of laughter from the sidelines and Mel glanced over to see Ray with a fist at his mouth, as if he could force himself to swallow the laughter that was trying to roar up out of him. She wanted to hit him with her racket.
“Miss, are you all right?” Anton jogged towards the net, leaping over it as if it were no higher than the curb. He knelt beside her and Mel felt her face get hot under his concerned gaze. This was mortifying.
She pushed off the ground and Anton gently hooked her under the arms and pulled her to her feet. Mel was a tall girl but Anton topped her by a couple inches.
“Bella, oh, you have . . . here.” Anton reached up and with a gentle hand he brushed away some dirt from Mel’s cheek.
His touch was gentle, the lightest brush of skin on skin. His warm brown eyes met hers and his smile was kind. Mel found herself smiling back at him.
“Thank you,” she said. Her voice came out raspy and breathless and she had to clear her throat.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Ray stomped across the court. “Hands off, buddy.”
Anton dropped his hand and glanced at Ray, who looked like he wanted to snap Anton like a pretzel. Yeah, good luck with that. Anton was lithe but he was all muscle and Mel had a feeling he could take Ray out and not even break a sweat.
The pah of a tennis ball being hit brought their attention back to Mallory. She had assumed her serve position and launched a tennis ball at them. Ray grabbed Mel and yanked her out of the way, while Anton reached up and snatched the ball out of the air.
He started to speak in rapid-fire Italian. He did not sound pleased. Ray and Mel began to back up as Mallory tossed her long blond curls and pouted as if pleased to have his full attention again e
ven if he was yelling at her.
“Oh, this is good,” Ray said. He fumbled with his phone, trying to turn on the camera and be subtle about it.
“I haven’t gotten a chance to ask her any questions about the video,” Mel protested in a harsh whisper.
“Who cares?” Ray hissed. “I’ve got five hundred riding on a passionate clinch. If this goes my way, bah dah boom.”
“Really?” Mel asked. Then she glanced at Anton and Mallory. Anton took Mallory’s racket and tossed it aside, then he pulled her up close and tight.
Mallory stuck out her chin in a taunting manner and Anton put his hand in her hair and held her head still as he lowered his lips to—
“Hey! How’s the lesson going?” Marty yelled through the chain-link fence that surrounded the court. “Did you know they have a steam room here? And the golf course is sweet. I am seriously considering membership.”
Mallory and Anton broke apart.
“Damn it!” Ray said. He swiveled his head in Marty’s direction. “Old man, you are killing me.”
Fourteen
“Me?” Marty puffed out his chicken chest. “What did I do? And who are you calling old?”
Courtney was standing beside him, smiling at him, which only made Marty puff out his chest even more. Mel glanced at the three of them. She grabbed Ray’s hand and looked at his phone. They were out of time. She needed to get her information and she needed it now.
She glanced down at the ball by her feet. The odds of making the shot she needed to were slim but better than nothing.
She scooped up the ball and jogged to the center of the court.
“Hey!” she cried. “Let’s try that again.”
She tossed the ball up into the air and smacked it with the racket. She had her eyes shut, so it was definitely flying on a wing and a prayer. She heard the pah of the hit and then the ball hit something hard and there was a cry of pain and then a stream of furious Italian in a very high-pitched voice.
She opened her eyes to see Anton cradling his privates. Well, all right, she was two for two.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she cried.
She glanced at Ray and Marty, who were both covering their lower regions and cringing as if in sympathy pain. Courtney’s eyes were huge and she spun on her high heels and hurried from the court yelling, “I’ll go get some ice. Don’t move, Anton.”
Mel walked over to Ray and Marty and said, “Stay here.”
Then she dashed around the net and joined Mallory, who was helping Anton to go and sit down.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “Really so very sorry. I never meant to hit your man.” She directed her words to Mallory, who looked startled but didn’t deny the relationship. Interesting.
They helped Anton lie down on one of the benches. His whimpering had lessened somewhat but Mel knew if she was going to get any information out of Mallory now was her time.
“I hope I didn’t do any permanent damage,” she said. “Are you two planning a family?”
“I . . . What?” Mallory looked at her as if she was cracked.
Mel made her most innocent face in return and said, “Oh, I just assumed because of how you are together that you’re married. He’s clearly mad about you.”
Anton moaned and Mel felt a twinge of guilt. In her defense she’d had her eyes shut and the location of the hit really hadn’t been intentional, she’d just hoped to hit him somewhere.
“We are . . . in love,” Mallory said. She smoothed Anton’s hair back from his forehead in a loving gesture that Mel thought was sincere. “But there are issues with us being together.”
She looked up at Mel and her face crumpled. “In fact, it is highly likely that I will soon go to jail for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“What?” Mel put her hand over her heart in what was only half-feigned surprise. She hadn’t realized Uncle Stan was this close to making an arrest, and she hadn’t known Mallory was their first pick since they’d really seemed fixated on Cassie. To get Mallory to say more, she appealed to her vanity. “But you’re a beautiful woman. What crime could you have committed?”
“I know,” Mallory said. Clearly she was bewildered at how anyone could believe that a woman who looked like she did could be accused of a crime.
Yeah, as if beautiful women and men weren’t capable of dirty deeds. Mel kept her face earnest but it was a struggle.
“My husband’s ex-wife was murdered and the police seem to think I’m responsible,” she said.
“His ex-wife?” Mel gestured to Anton. “How awful.”
“She was awful,” Mallory said. “And no, not Anton’s wife. His wife is, well, she is another issue.”
“So, you’re not married?” Mel gestured between them. She tried to make her expression sympathetic even though on the inside she was shaking her head. How did these two knuckleheads think this was going to play out for them?
“No, but you were right about how we feel for each other,” Mallory said. She stroked Anton’s hair again and he moaned. “We are madly in love.”
Mel really hoped Ray was getting this on his phone.
“But your husband’s ex-wife was murdered and you’re a suspect?” she asked. “Do you have an alibi?”
Mallory let loose a wail that shook Anton and he let loose a powerful stream of Italian that Mel was pretty sure was not happy words.
“No, because I was with him,” Mallory cried. “I can’t say anything or his wife will have him tossed out of the country.”
“Too bad you can’t prove your husband did it,” Mel said. “Then you’d be free and you could go with him.”
“I have video of my husband threatening Elise,” Mallory said. “But he said he has the same thing about me.”
“Did you threaten her?” Mel asked.
“Just once, but she totally deserved it,” Mallory said. She tossed her hair. “She called me ‘Child Bride’ one too many times. Ugh, I hated her.”
“Ice pack!” Courtney cried as she jogged on her high heels in little mincing steps towards them. “I have an ice pack!”
As Courtney bent over and put the ice pack on Anton with a familiarity that seemed more than that of coworkers, he took a moment to ogle her chest where her plum-colored jacket gaped, then he grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Grazie, bella,” he said.
Mel looked at Mallory, whose eyes narrowed at the gesture.
“Yeah, you might want to let the police know about your alibi,” Mel said. “I’m just sayin’.”
When Mallory spun around and pushed Courtney away from Anton, Mel took it as her moment to escape. She jogged back over to Ray and Marty and said, “Let’s go. I think it’s about to get ugly around here.”
They ran from the tennis courts, through the country club, and out into the parking lot.
“That was nice work back there,” Ray said. “You got her wailing loud enough that I got video of her admitting they are having an affair, which is even better than a money shot.”
“You’re welcome,” Mel said. She tossed him her keys. “You drive; I need to change.”
“In front of us?” Ray looked scandalized.
“No, behind you,” Mel said. “I have to put on my outfit and stuff for the rehearsal dinner. Don’t be such a weirdo.”
“I do not think Joe would be okay with this,” Ray said. He stiffly climbed into the driver’s seat.
Marty shrugged. “You seen one pair of—”
“Ah!” Ray interrupted.
“Stockings,” Marty said. “I was going to say stockings, you pervert.”
Ray zipped out of the parking lot, making Mel’s attempt to get dressed more challenging than it needed to be.
“Slow down there, Andretti,” she said when he took a curve that almost put the Mini Cooper up on two wheels.
Mel sl
id across the backseat while she wrestled with the clothes she had tossed into a bag as they rushed out of the bakery. She changed out of her polo shirt and into her pretty floral blouse. She kicked off her shoes and grabbed her heels.
Ray took another corner hard and she slid the other way. Mel used the door handle to pull herself upright. Then she reached into the bag for her miniskirt. All she felt was the bottom of the bag. Oh, no!
“No, no, no, no, no,” Mel moaned as she checked the bag. Empty. She rifled around the backseat, hoping her skirt had fallen out somewhere. Nope. Damn it!
“What’s the problem?” Marty asked.
“My skirt,” she said. “I must have forgotten to put it in the bag. Now I have to wear this oversized pleated wonder to Tate and Angie’s rehearsal. Oh my god!”
“Relax,” Ray said as he turned into the parking lot of the church. “No one is going to notice.”
He parked in the lot. Joe was standing on the curb outside, waiting for them. No one else was in sight.
Mel glanced at her phone. They were fifteen minutes late. Angie was probably having a cow.
Joe opened the door for her and Mel climbed out. He tipped his head to the side and studied her.
“Going for the Catholic schoolgirl look?” he asked.
“Don’t ask,” she said.
“Mel, there you are, come on!” Judi Franko, Angie’s cousin, was standing in the open doorway to the church, waving for them to hurry up.
Marty and Ray joined them, and Joe looked at Marty’s outfit and then back at Mel. “Why do I get the feeling there is a story here?”
“Story?” she asked. “No story. More like a tale, a brief one, not even an anecdote, really.”
“Uh-huh,” he said.
Judi, clearly done waiting for them, dashed forward and grabbed Mel by the hand and said, “Maid of honor, focus!” She then took in Mel’s overly large pleated skirt and one eyebrow quirked up above the frame of her glasses. “What sort of outfit is that? Is it trending? Are my girls going to want to wear that? Because I’m not sold on it.”
Wedding Cake Crumble Page 14
