A Viola Roberts Cozy Mystery Collection

by Shéa MacLeod

  My phone lay on the bedside table, so I reached out carefully, one slow inch at a time, and grabbed it. I dialed the first number that came up.

  “Hey, Viola. What’s up?”

  “Cheryl, I need you to be calm.”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  “Someone put a snake in my bed.”

  There was a shriek from the other end of the line that nearly deafened me. I winced. “I told you to keep calm.”

  “I hate snakes.” There was an edge of panic in her voice.

  “I realize this,” I whispered, “but you’re not the one in bed with one.”

  There was a pause. “Good point. Blame the lack of coffee. What should I do?”

  “There are poisonous snakes in Florida, and I can’t see it. It’s under the duvet, so I can’t move. Go to the front desk, get the manager. Tell him what’s happening. If he doesn’t take you seriously, get Lucas to help.” People had a way of listening to Lucas Salvatore. “There should be somebody that knows what to do.” At least I sure hoped so.

  It felt like hours, but was probably only about fifteen minutes, before I heard someone outside my door. The snake had curled right up against my leg, apparently enjoying my body heat. Oh goodie.

  There was a light knock. The door handle rattled slightly, and the door swung open. A strange man with bushy brown hair poked his head in. “Ms. Roberts?” he said softly. He was wearing a khaki uniform and an official-looking badge. I didn’t bother answering. “My name is Brian. I’m with Fish and Wildlife. I’m going to help you. I just need you to keep absolutely still, okay?”

  I shot him a glare. What did he think I’d been doing? Keeping still was not nearly as easy as it sounded. It was downright painful, actually. Plus I had to pee.

  Brian moved cautiously toward the bed, clearly assessing the situation. “Okay, Ms. Roberts, this is going to be difficult as I can’t see the snake to tell if it’s venomous, and it’s obviously right up against you. So, what I’m going to do is real quick-like stick this sheet of metal,” he held up what looked like a cookie sheet, “between you and the snake. That way if it strikes, it won’t hit you, right?”

  I nodded very slightly. It seemed risky, but what else could I do? Not a lot of options as far as I could see.

  “Minute that happens you roll out of bed and onto the floor quick as you can. Then I can contain the snake. Ready?”

  Another slight nod. As I’ll ever be.

  Without further ado, Brian slammed the thin sheet of metal right down between my leg and the snake until it hit the mattress. I didn’t wait. I rolled so fast I hit the floor hard enough to leave bruises. Brian dropped the metal sheet and whipped up the duvet, catching the snake in it like a sack, before hauling it unceremoniously from the room. I followed him in time to watch as he dumped it into a bucket and slammed down the lid.

  “Oh my word, that’s a coral snake,” I gasped. I knew that coral snakes were super venomous. I would have died if it had bit me.

  Brian grinned. “Naw, ma’am. It’s just a little ole king snake. Get mistaken for corals all the time, but they’re totally harmless.” He lifted the container. “I’ll take this little honey out to the wild and set him free. Don’t you worry.”

  Frankly, I was less worried about the snake than about me. “How’d it get in my bed? Surely they’re not just wandering around hotel rooms at random.”

  “No, ma’am,” he said grimly. “Somebody had to have put him there. You’re lucky, if they’d have gotten a real coral snake—”

  “I know,” I interrupted him. It would have been ugly, to say the least.

  “Of course, maybe whomever it was knew the snake was harmless and just wanted to scare you. Either way, looks like you got yourself an enemy.” He looked very grim as he said it.

  Seriously. He had no idea.

  The minute he was gone, a whole entourage tumbled into my room. First came Cheryl followed by Lucas, Maggie, Lu, and finally a strange man I’d never seen before. Cheryl was babbling incoherently and crying, not that I blamed her. I felt like crying myself. Lucas was stony eyed. The strange man was wringing his hands and muttering sympathetic nonsense. Maggie was barking out orders, which no one was listening to, while Lu quietly poured a very large glass of whisky from a flask she’d dug out of her floral beach back and shoved it in my hand. I downed it in two gulps, feeling immediately better.

  “Everyone, shut up!” I shouted over the melee. Everyone shut up. I turned to the stranger. He was wearing a rumpled white shirt with a ghastly green and yellow tie. His reddish-brown hair was sprinkled with gray, thinning on top, and his freckled face had seen an unfortunate amount of sun. “You first. Who are you?”

  “George O’Malley. Manager. I can’t apologize enough, Ms. Roberts. This has never happened before. Not in the history of the resort. Shocking. Truly shocking. Do you need a doctor?”

  “No. As you can see I’m in one piece. I could use more booze though.” I gave a mournful look at my empty glass.

  “I shall take care of it immediately. And the rest of your stay will be comped.” He gave me an eager look.

  “Okay. Thanks.” It wasn’t his fault. Obviously someone was out to get me, but hey... free stuff is always good.

  With more assurances this wouldn’t happen again and overly flowery apologies, George finally left. Thank goodness. I turned to my friends.

  “I’m fine, everyone. Really. Just a bit of a surprise.”

  “I’ll say,” Maggie said dryly. “Kind of surprise a body could do without.”

  “I think maybe someone is trying to kill you,” Cheryl said soberly.

  “Well, they didn’t do a very good job since they used the wrong snake,” Maggie pointed out.

  “Unless they used the right snake,” Lucas reminded her, “and were going for the scare not the kill. It could have been a warning.”

  Maggie snorted. “After the first attempt on her life? I don’t think so.”

  I sighed. “Either way, we really need to find out what is going on. I’m betting whoever left the snake is the same person who pushed me down the stairs. And whoever that is had something to do with both Natasha’s and Andrea’s deaths.” I sank down on the couch, my glass magically refilled. I tossed it back, feeling the pleasant numbness steal over me. It was better than the sheer panic I had been feeling. “What I really need to find out is: who was Andrea’s boyfriend and who was the last person to see Andrea alive?”

  “Oh, that’s easy,” Cheryl said with a grin. “It was that bartender. Kyle.”

  Chapter 20

  Confronting Evil

  “WHAT?” I SHRIEKED. “How long have you known this?”

  “Since last night,” she said calmly. “Max told me. He saw them together when he first arrived at the resort. They were kissing. And then again right before Andrea’s death. That time they were arguing. Andrea slapped him across the face.”

  “When were you going to tell me?” I demanded.

  “This morning. Except the whole snake thing sort of got in the way.”

  She had a point. I drew in a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Let me think this over...” Things were definitely clicking now. Little pieces that hadn’t made sense until now were finally falling into place.

  “Interesting development,” Lucas murmured. Maggie and Lu nodded in agreement.

  “It still doesn’t make sense,” Cheryl said.

  I blinked. “What doesn’t?”

  “What does Kyle being Andrea’s boyfriend have to do with Natasha getting killed? Maybe the two murders aren’t related after all.”

  Maggie snorted.

  “Oh, they are,” I said. “They most definitely are.” I grabbed my maxi dress from the chair and yanked it on over my head, pajamas and all. I snatched my key card from the dresser, thought momentarily about grabbing my handbag, too, but dismissed it.

  “Where are you going?” Cheryl demanded as I marched toward the door.

  “I need to talk to Kyle. Now.” />
  “But...” she sputtered, “you’re not even properly dressed.”

  “No time.” I shoved open the door and marched down the walkway, Cheryl hot on my heels. Lucas wasn’t far behind with Lu and Maggie trotting along eagerly.

  “Listen. Viola. I know you’re on a mission to prove your innocence—” Cheryl started.

  “Our innocence.”

  “Right. Sure. But don’t you think you should call Detective Costa?”

  I snorted. “He’d just screw it up. The man clearly doesn’t know his head from his tailpipe.”

  “But Viola—.”

  I whirled to face her. “Listen to me, Cheryl. I’ve got to do this, okay? I’ve got to know the truth.” I didn’t bother waiting for her reply. I marched on, determined. It was time to finish this.

  “WHERE’S KYLE?” I BARKED imperiously at the bartender, a young woman with a dark pixie cut and a cute pair of silver-rimmed glasses. I hadn’t seen her before.

  She blinked. “Er...who’s asking?”

  “A friend.” Might be a stretch—okay, more than a stretch—but what did she know? I tapped my foot impatiently and gave her my best authoritarian stare.

  She pointed at a door marked employees only. “But you can’t go in there.”

  “Watch me.” I marched over and threw open the door. It led into a short hallway. Very depressing with utilitarian off-white tiles and matching walls. The overhead fluorescents flickered ominously. Or maybe that was just me. I had been accused once or twice of having an overactive imagination.

  To the right were two doors clearly marked as restrooms. Straight ahead, a fire door led to what was likely the outside. On the left was an open doorway leading into a small kitchen/breakroom area. Kyle was sitting alone at one of the tables, eating breakfast.

  “Kyle.” I stopped in front of him. “We need to talk.”

  He gave me a once-over, his expression startled. “Are you all right, miss?”

  I glanced down at myself realizing for the first time what I sight I must make in my white and blue striped pajamas underneath my brown and turquoise maxi dress. “Yes. Busy morning is all. Can we talk?”

  He glanced around. There were half a dozen other people in the room watching us with interest. This suited me fine, but he clearly didn’t want an audience.

  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

  “Fine. Whatever.” I followed him into the hall and through the fire door. Outside was a small covered patio with a picnic bench and a collection of cheap plastic ashtrays. Clearly the designated smoking spot. A narrow wooden gate opened to the lush resort grounds. Kyle led me through the gate and down one of the more overgrown paths. Frankly, the Fairwinds needed to rethink their groundskeepers. The path opened up into what must be the overflow storage for beach toys. Kayaks, paddle boats, and other items littered the ground around a small shed that looked stuffed to the gills. Most of the items appeared worn and in need of repair.

  “Now, what did you want to talk about?” Kyle stood, legs braced apart, arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a sullen teenager.

  “I just found out some interesting information.”

  He quirked an eyebrow, looking only mildly interested. “Yeah? What?”

  I gave him a cool look. “Seems you and Andrea Schwartz, the second murder victim, were an item.”

  He rolled his eyes. “That’s old news. We broke up ages ago.”

  “Really? Because I have a witness that saw you kissing her just a few days ago. Right before you took up with Natasha, in fact.”

  He shrugged. “We hooked up. So what?”

  “So, the same witness saw you arguing with Andrea just a short while before her murder.”

  A muscle flexed in his jaw, and his lips grew tight. “Lots of people fight. It’s no big deal.”

  “Really? You break up with one woman to date another only to have the second one get murdered. Then you argue with the first, and she’s murdered. It’s curious, don’t you think?”

  He shrugged again, trying to appear nonchalant, but his eyes were dark and angry. I was definitely hitting a nerve.

  “Not to mention this.” I pulled the small silver bracelet out of my pocket. “Interesting that you pretended not to know who it belonged to.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What of it. It’s none of your business anyway, you old busybody.”

  I resisted the urge to smack the brat. “I’m certain it’s something Detective Costa would be interested in hearing about. Where I found it. When I found it”

  “So tell him. What do I care? You can’t prove anything. Why would I kill Natasha anyway? She was my ticket out of this dump.”

  Bingo!

  “Because you didn’t mean to kill Natasha.”

  He turned sheet white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But some of the belligerence was gone. In its place was a panicked kid who was in way over his head.

  “Oh, I think you do,” I said, going in for the kill. “You see, that’s what stumped me. Why you would kill Natasha. Andrea, I get, but Natasha? Didn’t make sense. At least, not until I figured it out.”

  “Figured what out?” Some of the cockiness was back.

  “That you never meant to kill Natasha. Natasha was a mistake. You were supposed to meet Andrea, but she was late, and Natasha showed up first. In the dark, away from the lights of the resort, you couldn’t tell the difference. Same color hair. Same height and build. The only difference was their ages, and with Natasha’s back turned...” I shrugged. “Woopsie.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed. His face was a contorted mask of anger.

  “Don’t I? Because I’m guessing that Andrea did eventually show up, and she saw what you did.” I held up the bracelet again so that it sparkled in the sunlight. “Andrea saw you kill Natasha, but she didn’t get it. She didn’t realize you meant to kill her. What did she do, Kyle? Blackmail you? Is that how you found out?”

  He growled. “No, you idiot. She never said a word. I found out when you came around waving that thing in my face.” He pointed at the bracelet. “That’s when I knew she’d seen me. It’s your fault she’s dead.”

  I felt suddenly sick to my stomach. Rather than go to the cops, I’d tried to solve things myself, and it had gotten Andrea killed. I shook my head. I couldn’t think that way. “No, it isn’t, Kyle. The only fault here is yours. I’m guessing that was what the argument was about. You had to kill her so she couldn’t tell anyone what she’d seen. What I don’t quite understand is why you tried to kill Andrea in the first place.”

  “Don’t you, Miss Know-It-All?” Kyle snarled. In his hand was a wicked-looking knife. It looked just like the one I found in Natasha’s back. I froze, suddenly realizing just how alone we were. “Andrea was in my way. She threatened to tell Natasha the truth.”

  “That, uh, you were using her for her money?” I ventured.

  “Whatever. Like she wasn’t using me.” He moved closer, the light glinting of the sharp edge of his blade. “I needed her. Natasha. She was going to get me out of this hellhole.”

  “I get it. I do. But murder? Seems extreme.”

  “I couldn’t risk it. I needed Natasha. And her money. And then the stupid woman has to go and get herself killed.” His face twisted until it was an ugly parody of itself.

  Keep him talking. Keep him talking. Somebody has to come by at some point.

  “But why did you push me down the stairs? It was you, wasn’t it?”

  He twirled the knife in his hand, the blade flashing hypnotically. “You were getting a little too close. I thought you might know what the bracelet meant. I couldn’t risk you finding out the truth. How could I know you were so slow?”

  Ouch. That hurt.

  “What can I say? I’m new at this,” I said, trying to act nonchalant. “But the snake? Why a king snake?”

  He growled. “Idiot sold it to me said it was a coral. Just goes to show you gotta do things yourself. Can’t tru
st anybody. And I definitely can’t trust you and your big mouth.” He advanced on me, that sharp knife pointed at me like it, and he, meant business.

  “Um, Kyle, think about this...”

  “I am thinking about it and if you’re gone, no one will figure it out.”

  “What?” I laughed weakly. “You think I’m the only one who figured it out?”

  “Yes, Miss Nosey, I do.”

  “Detective Costa—”

  “Is an idiot,” he snapped. “Couldn’t find his backside with both hands.”

  Well, I wouldn’t have gone that far. Even if I was still irked at him for considering me a suspect.

  Kyle lunged at me, and I stepped backward, tripping over a loose bit of debris. I toppled to the sand, scrabbling to get away, to find a weapon. Anything to fend him off. My hand closed around something solid. As Kyle lunged again, I whipped up the kayak paddle and bashed him in the head just as a horde of policemen burst from the bushes, shouting to freeze in the name of the law.

  Kyle toppled to the ground, unconscious. I dropped the paddle and held up my hands. Detective Costa loomed over me, glaring.

  Chapter 21

  Farewell to Fairwinds

  IT WAS THE LAST DAY of the conference, and Lucas had taken Cheryl, Maggie, Lu, and me out for drinks at the Flying Fish. Cheryl had invited Max, but he had to catch an early plane to Boston. Cheryl was looking a little down, so I made a mental note to cheer her up later.

  We all gathered around one of the Flying Fish’s long tables with humongous wine glasses filled to the brim. There was both a feeling of excitement and sadness. Excitement that the murder was solved and sadness that tomorrow we’d be going our separate ways.

  “To Viola,” Lucas said, lifting his glass. The look he gave me was rife with meaning.

  “Viola!” the others chimed in.

  “All right, girl, spill,” Maggie demanded. “When did you know it was Natasha’s boy toy?”

  “When Cheryl told me that Kyle was Andrea’s boyfriend. I mean, it made sense, him killing her. Get her out of the way and all. But not him killing Natasha. Unless it was an accident. Then I recalled once seeing Andrea in the lobby. I thought at first it was Natasha, they’re so similar, at least from behind. I realized that if I could mistake them, the killer might have, too, especially in the dark. And if that were the case, it explained both murders.”