The Deadly Daiquiri

by Tegan Maher

  "I did," she said. "Nasty business, that. Bad for the resort, too. If we don't solve it quickly, it'll be a PR nightmare."

  "Did you sense anything odd yesterday or in the past few days?"

  She pulled in a deep breath. "No, but since they started selling day passes online, not everybody comes through here now." She paused. "There was something odd a few days ago with those gargoyles Cass hangs out with. They met with an incubus right over there, and not one of the good ones, either. Something changed hands, but it was too small for me to tell what, then the incubus went that way"—she motioned with her head to the south entrance—"and on their way past me, one of them said they were glad they weren't going to have to deal with Cass much longer. Called him a fool who'd gotten what he deserved."

  I frowned. "Do you think it could have been the essence?"

  She puckered her lips, thinking. "I suppose it could have been, but I can't say for sure."

  So the gargoyles were at the top of my list, but they weren't the only ones.

  "What about a werewolf named Colin Moore?"

  "Hmm," she said, scrunching her forehead. "Moore. Handsome devil? Hair just a bit too long?"

  "That's him. He threatened Cass not long before he keeled over."

  "Yes," she said gently, inclining her head a little, "but so did you. If everybody that ever threatened that hideous man were a suspect, the investigation would be sunk."

  I thought belatedly about Fiona. "You're right, I guess. Fiona threatened to turn him to stone because he was being a jerk to me."

  Margo smiled. "I do love that woman. She comes out and talks to me some nights while she's here. She can relax around me and let her hair down, literally, since I'm already stone."

  "Yeah, Fiona's great. Speaking of," I said, "have there been any lone gorgons, lately?"

  "Actually, yes. Once checked in yesterday. She's a hotel inspector, so this trip is a mix of business and pleasure." She cringed a little. "You didn't hear that from me. Now that I think about it, she's probably a mystery guest."

  I groaned and made a mental note to tell Bob and Elena. Mystery guests were the pits. Either the hotel or somebody from the council would send somebody in periodically in the guise of a guest. The person would stay a few days, use as many of the amenities as possible, then score each one.

  Personally, I thought it was dirty pool, especially if the shopper had never worked in the industry, but I was just a peon.

  "So probably not the murderer," I concluded.

  Margo lifted a shoulder. "I'd say no. She doesn't strike me as the brightest bulb, and I didn't pick up any murder in her heart. She does have a mean-girl streak, though, and a heaping dose of rookie-level pettiness."

  Her biggest gift—or mixed blessing, as she called it—was seeing the sins in a person's heart. I think it's why she tended to cut Blake a break. She knew he sincerely didn't intend to do anything wrong. Yet he did, intentionally or not.

  "Anybody else you want to know about?" she asked.

  "A couple of witches. Bob said they looked youngish, but you and I both know that doesn't mean anything."

  "Sorry, sweetie. There are at least a hundred witches here right now. They're having a convention starting tomorrow, and many of them came early."

  "Thanks for your help anyway," I said.

  "No problem," she said. "Come back and see me more often. It gets lonely up here." A shadow crossed her face. "Des?"

  "Yeah, Margo?"

  "When you have to make a choice, have faith."

  "General advice or specific?" I asked. Despite the cloak of humanity, she was a sphinx. Riddles were her thing, and she often saw the future, at least in snippets.

  "Both," she said, smiling before she turned back toward the ocean and faded back into a statue again.

  With a final pat to her toe, I stood and headed to see Blake. At least I'd managed to eliminate the gorgon. The field was narrower by one.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  I TOOK MY TIME WANDERING through the bottom floor of the hotel on my way to the elevators that would take me to Blake's penthouse office. I wasn't sure what I was going to say to him, and the last time I'd been in there was when he'd told me what he'd done. I'd had to walk past her on my way out, and it wasn't a memory I wanted to rehash.

  Though there was a mishmash of everything from beachy souvenir shops to chic restaurants, everything somehow worked. Even though I'd been there for almost four years, I still got the festive, vacationy feel when I walked through, and it calmed me. I picked up a new pair of flip-flops from one of the shops, then womanned up and headed toward the bank of elevators.

  Turns out, I didn't make it to his office. I'd just pushed the up button when the doors a couple elevators to my left slid open, and Blake stepped out. He was laughing with a woman that fit the description of one of the pair Bob had seen at the bar.

  The smile slid off his face as they stopped in front of me.

  "Destiny, hey!" he said, glancing back and forth between me and Ms. Perfect.

  My gaze slid to the cute brunette next to him as I reached deep and pasted on my best don't give a shit look. She was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, but somehow she made it look classy. I felt self-conscious in my cutoffs and tank and wished I'd taken the time to at least put on some eyeliner.

  He recovered first and started to make the introduction.

  The hole in the floor I'd been wishing for appeared in the form of the elevator doors sliding open in front of me.

  I smiled and pointed. "I'd love to stay and chat, but Fiona called and needs my help with something."

  Trying not to be obvious, I jabbed the close button on the panel and picked a random floor.

  I leaned against the brass rail at the back of the cabin and pulled in a couple deep breaths, willing my heart not to pound out of my chest. That could have gone better, but I supposed it was bound to happen sometime.

  The elevator slowed then stopped, and I glanced above the door to see where I was at. The thirteenth floor. Weird, because that was my lucky number. I guess it was the universe saying you’re welcome for the quick save.

  The doors slid open before I could hit the down button again, and who to my wondering eyes should appear but Mr. Colin Moore himself. Well, well, I thought, stepping aside. I flashed him the distant, strangers in an elevator smile and clasped my hands behind me as he reached for the panel.

  "What floor?" he asked.

  "Oh. Uh, ground, please."

  He punched the button then stepped back and mirrored my stance on the other side of the cabin. Somehow, it seemed like he was taking up a lot more of the space than I was.

  Seeing as how I hadn't heard him say a peep the entire time he'd been there, I was surprised when he cleared his throat and spoke.

  "Destiny, right? From the tiki?"

  "Yeah," I said, glancing at him. "I've seen you there. And you are?" I figured he didn't need to know I already knew who he was.

  One side of his mouth tipped up in a wry half smile, though he kept his eyes straight ahead. "Colin. Colin Moore."

  "So, Colin Moore, what brings you to our delightful beach getaway?" I kept my gaze trained straight ahead too. Two could play the calm, cool, and collected game.

  "A mix of business and pleasure," he answered, turning his head to look at me sideways. "And what brings you to it?"

  I barked out a laugh. "Oh, you know. The usual. I got bored jet setting and decided to come down here and pretend to waitress for a couple years. I figured slummin' it would be a gas. Plus, I'm a sucker for the shoes and apron."

  For the first time, I got to see that smile I'd imagined half a dozen times over the last week, and it looked even better on him than I could have guessed. I smiled back, even while the logical part of my brain was trying to tell the part that controlled the girly bits that he might be a murderer.

  To be fair, though, that would pretty much make him my type. The guy I'd gone out with—twice—before Blake hadn't been quite that bad, but
only because he lacked motivation. He preferred to snatch purses off little old ladies, a fun fact about himself that he left off the "about me" section of his Facebook.

  I found out the hard way when he tried to pay for our dinner with a credit card belonging to a woman who had apparently reported it stolen. He left in cuffs, and I got stuck with the bill. At least we'd decided to skip dessert.

  The elevator jolted to a stop, and the doors slid open. I took a deep breath, hoping Blake and Ms. Perfect had left the vicinity. My anxiety level spiked a little, but I figured Fate surely wouldn't bitch-slap me twice in the same hour. I was correct.

  He turned toward the front of the building and continued by my side, matching my pace.

  "Are you going back to the tiki?" he asked as we stepped outside.

  "I am, but I'm off. I was just going to check in on things."

  Day was slipping into evening, and the sun hovered just over the water, spreading waves of brilliant violets, pinks, and oranges across the horizon. The positioning of the entrance wasn't accidental, and the ocean view never failed to take my breath away every time I stepped outside, no matter what time of day it was.

  The colors were outstanding even for the Enchanted Coast, and I stumbled, sucking in a breath when I saw the HD display of colors stretched across the sky.

  Colin slowed too and gave a low whistle. "Wow. That right there makes the whole trip worth it."

  "I joked about the shoes and apron, but if I have to work, why would I pick anywhere else?"

  The faintest of breezes kicked up, and the smell of his cologne—a clean, breezy scent that mimicked the ocean air—wafted over to me, almost making my mouth water. I wished much more fervently than before that I'd bothered a little more with my appearance.

  He moved a few inches closer to me, and I couldn't decide if it was intentional or if he was just taking in the astounding display and had shifted his weight to get comfortable. I kicked myself a little because my goofy libido hoped he did it on purpose.

  We were standing beside Margo, who shifted ever so slightly to look at Colin then give me a wink before turning her face back toward the water. I rolled my eyes then shuffled over a little and hopped up onto her pedestal, settling in to watch the show. It was my favorite spot on the whole resort, both because of the view and because of Margo.

  "You go ahead," I told Colin, "I'm gonna stay here and watch the sunset."

  He tilted his head, examining me, and his gaze flickered to my legs before he jerked it back to my face. "Do you mind if I join you?"

  On impulse, I shrugged and scooched over, patting the space beside me. "Not at all. I even saved you a seat."

  I knew I should be taking advantage of the situation to ask him some questions, but there was just something about a sunset over the Gulf of Mexico that demanded your whole attention. The colors grew more brilliant as the edge of the sun slipped behind the horizon.

  A few minutes later, the final bit slipped out of sight, followed by a slight green blink. I smiled, wondering if he knew how rare it was to witness that. No magic on earth could force it to happen; it was all on nature.

  He took a deep breath beside me, and when I chanced a look, he was smiling again.

  "No matter how old I get, an ocean sunset never gets old," he said.

  "I know. Definitely a perk of the job." I knew I should push off the pedestal and go check on Bob, but I hated to break the moment. A group of young witches ran by, streaming sparklers behind them, doing it for me.

  Reality crashed back, and he cleared his throat. "I guess we should head down to the tiki," he said, a note of regret in his voice.

  "I guess so," I replied, pushing off the pedestal.

  He followed suit, and when I looked back to wave to Margo, she was smirking just a little bit.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  I WAS TRYING TO THINK of a way to broach the whole Cassiel thing when he did it for me.

  "Any progress on the murder?"

  My sense of humor ran toward the bizarre when I was nervous, and I huffed out a little laugh. "I'm pretty sure the murder progressed exactly as planned," I said. "It's the investigation that could use some help."

  He furrowed his brow at me, and I wished I could pull the words back, until he laughed. "Semantics," he said. "As an attorney, I can appreciate that."

  "You're a lawyer?" For some reason, that surprised me, probably because my first guess had been assassin. Though to be fair, some of the skill sets were similar.

  "Sort of," he answered and left it at that.

  I couldn't resist. "So how did you know Cass?"

  He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts. "I wondered when you were going to come around to that. Or if you were."

  "You brought it up," I reminded him, stepping over a melting ice cream in the sand.

  "Fair enough. I didn't know Cass, per se, and my business with him was confidential, but I didn't kill him."

  "Well, that clears everything right up, then. You're off the list."

  He cocked a brow at me. "I didn't know I was on it."

  I heaved a sigh. "It's nothing personal. As far as I'm concerned, there are several suspects."

  "And you're at the top of the list."

  It grated, but only because it was true. I did my best to tamp down my irritation. "So I've been told. But I'm the only one I know for a fact didn't do it."

  "If it makes you feel any better, you don't strike me as the poisoning type."

  I snorted. "You've got that right. I'm more of a crime of passion type girl. If I'd done it, it would have been much messier and more painful."

  Another grin flashed across his face, and I found myself wanting to see more of it. It tickled through the back of my brain that the fact I was so attracted to him was probably more evidence against him.

  "I'd have to agree with you," he said. "Poisoning's too sneaky for you. You strike me as the type who'd want him to see it coming."

  "Well when you put it like that, it just sounds mean." That didn't mean he wasn't right, though.

  "So tell me why I should believe you didn't kill him," I said. We were cresting the last rise before the tiki, and I was a little disappointed the walk was over.

  "Do I strike you as the type to poison somebody?"

  I examined him for a minute, rubbing my chin. "Hm. I don't know. It's not werewolf style, but you're also a lawyer, so until I'm sure, I'm not leaving any open drinks alone with you."

  He laughed. "That's wise of you. Unnecessary, but wise."

  Bob raised a brow at me when we popped around the corner, and it reminded me of how taciturn Colin had been all week.

  "So what's your beef with Bob? The poor guy's been trying to entertain you all week, and you haven't cracked so much as a smile."

  He sighed. "I know. I've had a lot on my mind. If you had any idea why I was here, you'd understand."

  "Well, since you're not willing to share that information, be nice to him. He's a good guy."

  "Yes ma'am," he said.

  He went to the bar, and I watched to make sure he made good on his word. When he greeted Bob and started making small talk like a normal person would, I turned toward the patio. Stan wasn't there, which was surprising. Cyri and Aiden were walking along the beach, and the gorgons had built a bonfire a little farther down, right before the magical border that kept humans out and the resort invisible.

  From the other side, it just looked like cliffs jutting out of the sand, making the way impassible. No confusion spells or repulsion spells necessary. Simple yet brilliant; it had been one of Michael's ideas.

  The thought of him brought back the events of the afternoon.

  Tempest curled around my feet.

  Your mood just went from hero to zero, she said, and I was glad she was keeping it private rather than speaking out loud.

  I explained what had happened.

  I'm sorry, she thought, rubbing her head on my leg. Too bad he didn't see you with the hottie over there. I th
ought we had him on the suspect list, though.

  We do.

  I sighed. It's complicated. He's nice and funny. But I can't rule him out, at least until I know what his business was with Cass.

  Shame. He sure is somethin' to look at.

  I couldn't argue with that.

  Either people had partied themselves out the night before or were entertaining themselves in the main bars up at the hotel, because it was quiet. A few tables were having dinner, and Bob had a handful of folks at the bar, but that was it. Elena had things under control, so I slipped into the office to do payroll, Tempest on my heels. It was quick and easy, thanks to automation rather than magic, and I had it done in no time.

  "Did Michael call back?" Tempe asked, running her claws through the fluff on her tail.

  "Not yet," I said, checking my phone for the hundredth time just to be sure.

  "We can't just sit around here and wait for them to come get you," she said, hopping onto my desktop. "You're resilient, but death isn't really something you come back from." She paused, then added, "Well, you can, obviously, but not with a body. And lemme tell ya, it's bad enough not having thumbs!"

  "I'm aware." I scowled at her and pulled the payroll backup paperwork from under her fluffy butt. "But what else is there to do?"

  "You could always talk your werewolf friend out there into escorting us to see him."

  "Absolutely not," I told her, then made a quick decision. "But I am going to go have dinner with him. I need to find out what he's hiding. If Michael doesn't call back by tomorrow morning, we'll come up with something."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I SLID ONTO THE STOOL beside Colin. "So, what's a nice werewolf like you doing in a place like this?"

  He rolled his eyes. "Sitting here awash in disappointment that a really cute witch would throw such a cheesy pickup line at me."

  "It worked, didn't it?"

  "Sadly, yes. Either you put some mojo on it, or I need to socialize more."