Dying for a Deal

by Cindy Sample

  “Man can’t tell a heart from a diamond,” she grumbled. “I guess I can get a tad overwrought sometimes.”

  I cleared my throat. “Back to Paul Lankershim. Do you think he killed Gregg?”

  Gran rubbed her chin. “What’s that saying your husband keeps bringing up?”

  “My husband is never at a loss for words. I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

  She snapped her fingers. “Anyone can turn into a killer at any time or place.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  Based on Gran’s comments, it didn’t seem like I could rule out Paul Lankershim as a suspect in Gregg’s killing. I dropped off the seniors at Gran’s house and left them to their own devices.

  I shuddered, wondering what the duo would get up to next. Although it was difficult to visualize them cavorting in bed, it might be the safest place for them to stay out of trouble.

  I popped into our house to change my outfit into something more enticing than shorts and a T-shirt. Kids’ laughter drifted in from the open screen door in the family room. I smiled as Scout attempted to catch the Frisbee Ben threw in his direction. My son’s throw was a few feet short and Scout almost landed the catch before tripping over his own four feet and crashing into Kristy.

  Watching our blended family enjoy an evening together made my heart pulse with joy. I also realized I might be able to change clothes and sneak out of the house before anyone even knew I’d come and gone.

  I couldn’t remember if I’d told Tom about Adriana’s idea, and I wasn’t certain he would approve of another sortie to The Gray Goose. I could be in and out of my closet in no time.

  Not really.

  After shoving inappropriate clothes right and left, it appeared my wardrobe needed some serious updating. Our honeymoon cruise a few months earlier had provided me with an excuse to purchase a cocktail dress and a few sundresses, but none of them qualified as “hot” enough to achieve our mission tonight.

  Although, as I recalled, they were definitely hot enough to whet Tom’s appetite on the cruise. Far more important in the grand scheme of things.

  The odds were the biker dudes, if they even appeared tonight, would be far more interested in Adriana than me. I could be her sidekick. Her wing woman, so to speak. Whatever the heck that meant.

  I threw on a pair of black capris and a tight-fitting raspberry top, dangling earrings and my one and only pair of stilettos. I evaluated my wig collection, courtesy of Gran, trying to determine the best choice for tonight.

  The platinum pixie cut won this time. By the time I had my outfit on and my wig arranged, I almost didn’t recognize myself in the mirror.

  Boy, was I rocking the platinum do.

  Approaching footsteps on our creaky stairs caused me to pause. Jenna? Tom?

  “Who the…?” Tom entered our bedroom and stopped, his dark eyes confused and wary. Then he walked closer to me. “If I hadn’t met you in our bedroom, I would never have recognized you. Nice disguise.”

  Then he frowned. “That begs the question. Why are you in a disguise? At least I hope there’s a reason behind your new look.”

  “Night out with the girls?” I quipped.

  He folded his arms, the firm biceps under his polo shirt causing me to drool and question my sanity. Why was I going out again?

  Oh, yeah. “One girl. Adriana.” When he frowned again, I explained, “It’s a billable night out on the town. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

  He moved forward, his large palms pressing lightly on my shoulders. “It better not, I mean—”

  “All in a day’s”—I looked at my watch—“or rather, night’s work.”

  “Why would you ask our client to assist you?” he asked.

  “Have you met our client?” I replied.

  He grimaced. “Yeah, I get it. I won’t bother wasting my time or yours by telling you to stay out of trouble. Just make sure your cell phone is charged and your pepper spray is in your purse. Got it?”

  I saluted him. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  Then I grinned and left him with the kind of kiss that makes my man go wild.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  I texted Adriana I was on my way, then slid into my SUV. Although I’d wanted to say goodbye to my kids, I didn’t think they needed to see me in my current disguise. Welcome to the seedier side of sleuthing.

  I pulled out of the garage and ten minutes later turned onto the freeway. The empty gas light pinged, reminding me to fill up. Investigating these cases was taking a toll on my fuel consumption as well. Stopping for gas made me a few minutes late for my assignation with Adriana.

  She took it well. Not.

  “Laurel, need I remind you I am paying for your somewhat inept services by the hour,” she chastised me as she slid into the passenger seat of my car. “Make sure you don’t bill me for any time prior to your official arrival time of”—she looked at her elegant watch—“nine fourteen.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it. I’ll even give you the first hour free,” I replied, shifting into reverse. “Deal?”

  She sniffed an assent before flipping down the visor. She frowned at her image, reached inside a small clutch, then proceeded to apply more mascara to her overly full lashes. As she leaned forward, her mini slid up her thighs and her V-neck top slipped down, revealing a red lace bra underneath the plunging neckline.

  I had to hand it to my client. She definitely knew how to look hot.

  She flicked the visor back up and shifted her gaze over to me. I waited for an onslaught of criticism on my disguise.

  “Not bad,” she said. “I doubt you’ll attract any men tonight, but it will be good to have you as backup. Especially since this is my first investigation.”

  I felt like stomping my foot at her comment, but that would entail removing my shoe off the gas pedal and since we were hemmed in by cars racing seventy-plus miles per hour on the freeway, I chose to take the high road and ignore her.

  Once I pulled off the highway and onto Folsom Boulevard, Adriana began fidgeting with her purse, opening and shutting it.

  “Something wrong?” I asked, although I kept my eyes on the road, not wanting to miss the turn into the strip mall.

  “I guess I’m a little nervous,” she admitted in a low voice. “This seemed like such a lark when I first suggested it, but in reality…” Her voice tapered off but I sensed her dark eyes boring into me.

  “We’ll be fine,” I reassured her, although I kind of wished I had someone along to reassure me. Now why didn’t I ask my hubby to join us?

  Oh yeah. Despite Tom’s early years doing undercover work, these biker dudes could most likely suss out he was a cop in seconds. And I really wanted to find out what kind of deal they had going on with Gino.

  Although half of the strip mall stores remained dark, the flashing multicolored lights of The Gray Goose beckoned me into the small shopping center. I parked the SUV under a bright streetlight for safety reasons. Several expensive-looking motorcycles lined up with perfect precision in the parking slots near the front of the bar.

  Adriana took her time climbing out of the car. Although her body looked hot, the expression on her face exhibited sheer terror.

  I walked over to her and gave her a quick squeeze.

  “There won’t be a woman in the place who can compete with you,” I said. “You got this.”

  “True,” Adriana said, sliding her hands down her skirt, smoothing it down. She threw her shoulders back, thrust out her chest and said, “I’m ready.”

  “Trust me. You’ll have the bikers eating out of your hand,” I added. As I followed her across the bumpy pavement, wobbling on my four-inch stilettos, I just prayed this outing didn’t come back and bite us on our butts.

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  Adriana entered The Gray Goose first, as befitted the queen bee of our dynamic duo. Raucous chatter died down to muted whispers as she sashayed toward the bar. She plunked her posterior on an empty stool next to a burly guy dressed in
leather, the silver studs in his leather jacket glittering under the bar’s lights.

  Jake! The biker who’d handed over the mysterious package to Gino last time. Just the man we wanted to discreetly question.

  I slunk over to the empty seat next to Adriana and nudged her. When she turned, I cocked my head toward Jake and mouthed his name. She nodded and began chatting with him. Or flirting with him. She was a woman of many skills. I plopped onto the stool next to hers but lost one stiletto in the process. When I bent over to retrieve it I bumped heads with the man sitting next to me.

  I shot back up, which did nothing for the pain in my forehead. “Ouch. Why did you do that?”

  “Sorry,” he said with a guilty look as he handed my shoe to me. “I was only trying to help.” He looked out of place in the bar, more like an absentminded professor than the usual Gray Goose patron.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled while attempting to shoe the narrow stiletto back on my noncompliant foot.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” the man asked. “You know, to help ease the pain.”

  I couldn’t think of a reason why not, so I accepted his offer. Then I remembered the hideous house wine from my last visit to the bar. I ordered a margarita, figuring there was no way the bartender could ruin tequila combined with lime juice.

  I underestimated the bartender’s skillset. Perhaps he was out of lime juice. And tequila, since my drink tasted more like Draino than a margarita.

  I tried to pay for my “drink” but the man next to me insisted. He introduced himself as Derek. “I haven’t seen you here before,” he said to the back of my head since I was intent on eavesdropping on Adriana’s conversation.

  I swiveled in his direction. “Nope, not a regular,” I said before whipping my head back in time to catch Adriana reaching into her purse. She pulled out her phone and handed it to the biker next to her.

  What the heck?

  “That’s my boyfriend.” Adriana pointed to Gino’s smiling photo on the screen. “He passed away and I want to make sure his friends come to his memorial service.” As a tear formed, she dabbed at her eyes with a cocktail napkin. “Did you know him? Gino said this was one of his favorite bars.”

  I almost choked on the sip of my drink, but I had to hand it to Adriana. She wasn’t a half-bad actress. Or was she acting? Maybe she did want to include Jake and company on her guest list.

  Perhaps her intent was to gather all of the suspects together at Gino’s celebration of life. Kind of like a Hercule Poirot whodunit. Except we knew who did it. That big lug who ran away and remained unidentified. What we didn’t know was why.

  I shifted closer trying to hear Jake’s response amid the loud chatter throughout the room. Derek moved closer to me, practically breathing down my neck. I would have whacked him with my purse except I didn’t want to miss anything Jake and the pal who’d just joined him said to Adriana.

  Jake grabbed the phone and showed it to his companion. Then he shook his head and said, “Never seen the dude.”

  Adriana blurted out, “That’s not true. My friend saw you and him together.” She turned to me. “Jake gave Gino a package out in the parking lot last week. Right?”

  “Uh,” I said, my brain working double time for an explanation that wasn’t coming. I squinted at the two men. “Now that I think about it, I don’t think you were the guys Gino was with that night.”

  “But, Laurel,” Adriana insisted as I tried to quell her questions by signaling with my frantically blinking eyes. “You told me it was a guy named Jake.” She placed her palm on Jake’s arm and batted her eyelashes. “You referred to him as a stud of a guy.”

  “Must be another stud goes by the name of Jake,” offered our suspect’s friend. “I never met your boyfriend neither.” The man stood and stretched, his grimy white T-shirt exposing a hairy belly. He gestured to Jake. “Time for us boys to hit the road.”

  Still trying to erase the image of the guy’s matted gray chest while figuring out a way to silence my partner, I intervened with what would prove to be one of my less astute remarks. “Sorry to see you fellas leave. I barely got to chat with you all.”

  Ugh. Even my stomach groaned at my insipid line.

  Insipid or not, it provoked a response.

  Jake walked over to me and placed his paw on my shoulder. “You gals want to take a ride on our bikes? We promise you a good time.”

  Adriana slid off her stool. “That sounds like fun. What do you say, Laurel?”

  I grabbed her hand. “I say we hit the ladies’ room first. Be right back, fellas.”

  I practically dragged her to the restrooms in the rear of the bar. Once we were out of earshot, I asked her, “What is the matter with you? Are you deranged? Those men could be killers and you want to ride off into the sunset with them?”

  “It’s long past sunset,” she corrected me. “Closer to midnight. I thought they would be more willing to discuss Gino if we bonded with them during a short ride.”

  “For all you know, a ride with them could be our last ride. Forever.” I pushed on the heavy wood door marked “Gals” and ushered her inside the dimly lit restroom, the cracked vinyl floor littered with toilet paper and tissue.

  “Yuck.” Adriana flicked her eyes around the room. “This private eye stuff isn’t so glamourous, is it?”

  “Nope.” I entered one of the two stalls and closed the door behind me.

  “Ew, you’re actually going to go in there?”

  “I’ve been in worse,” I replied. My kids often referred to me as Pit Stop Mama because I could describe in great detail the majority of the fast food restrooms stretching from the Bay Area to Tahoe.

  Once I took care of business and washed my hands, I informed Adriana it should be safe to head back to the bar.

  “But what if the guys are gone? We still don’t have any answers,” she whined.

  “I’ll get the rest of my team on it. I’m sure we’ll figure out something. I am really ready to call it a night.”

  I opened the door to a pitch-black hallway. The forty-watt lightbulb must have burned out. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I sensed a hulking presence behind me. My neck prickled and I started to turn around.

  The last thing I heard was Adriana screaming my name.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  The pungent scent of days-old banana peels, rotten meat and a score of other disgusting smells woke me up from a brief and involuntary slumber. I shifted in the darkness trying to determine where I was. When I lifted my arm, a stream of jugs, heavy plastic bags, and a few glass bottles moved along with me.

  A faint voice called out. “Laurel?” squeaked Adriana. “Are you in here?”

  “Yes, I am. But where are we?”

  A screeching sound assaulted my ears, but it was accompanied by the sudden vision of a moonlit sky up above us. I flailed around trying to stand up, but it seemed impossible among the detritus that surrounded both Adriana and me.

  A slightly familiar face appeared above us.

  “Thank goodness you’re okay,” said the man who’d been sitting next to me at The Gray Goose. The nerdy guy who bought me my drink. What was his name? Oh yeah, Derek.

  “We’re not okay,” shrieked my client. “We’re in a stinking dumpster.”

  I threw my elbow out to steady myself and ended up dislodging a bevy of bottles and cans.

  “Stop that,” Adriana yelled.

  My eyes locked with our rescuer’s, and I couldn’t help giggling.

  “Seriously, Laurel. How can you laugh at a time like this? And you,” she said imperiously, pointing a finger covered in green gunk at our savior, “get us out of here.”

  “Be back in a sec,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Everyone thinks they’re a comedian.

  “Hey,” Adriana shouted but Derek had disappeared. I breathed easier when he returned a few minutes later, a short ladder in one arm, with the bartender close on his heels.

  “What the hell are you gals doing in there?�
� he bawled. “Is this some kind of prank?”

  Funny he should mention that. Who exactly was responsible for throwing Adriana and me in the dumpster? I presumed it was Jake and his pal. But why?

  A prank? I thought not. A warning? Far more likely.

  With the help of both men, Adriana and I climbed out of the dumpster. Once we were safely standing on the asphalt, I attempted to hug Derek, but he held back, evidently not a fan of our fragrant l’eau de garbage. The bartender remained a few feet from him and upwind from Adriana and me.

  “Are Jake and his friend still in the bar?” I asked the bartender.

  He shook his head, his bald pate glowing under the moonlight. “No, I saw them follow you gals but then got busy at the bar and didn’t notice them after that. Not long after I heard their bikes roar out of the parking lot. Did you do something to upset them? That Jake has a bit of a temper on him.”

  I’d say. Although I doubted he’d thrown us in the dumpster due to a fit of anger.

  “I’m sure you ladies would like to clean up,” Derek said. “I found two purses on the floor by the rear door. They may be yours.”

  “Thank goodness,” said Adriana. She attempted to run her fingers through her formerly glossy hair and shrieked when they connected with an eggshell.

  “I am never going to recover from this,” she said, spinning around on her stilettos, which had somehow managed to cling to her feet. Mine were buried deep in the dumpster, and as far as I was concerned, they could remain there.

  “How could you let me do something so dangerous?” she asked as I struggled to keep up with her. My bare feet chafed from pounding the cracked pavement and I was worried I might step on something worse—like a nail or used needle.

  “Don’t you remember this was all your idea? I tried to talk you out of it.”