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Authors: Leslie Langtry

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BOOK: 'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy
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I dug my fingernails into my palms. “Really? I want to talk to you too. Are you free tomorrow morning? I could stop by?” I cringed at the thought of entering her home. Maybe I should take some holy water with me, just to be safe.
“Fine,” she replied. “I’ll see you at ten.” She hung up before I could confirm. I figured I’d better pack a mirror too. Just in case she was really a gorgon underneath all that Chanel makeup.
 
The next morning found me doing something I would never have imagined in a million years. I was walking to Vivian Marcy’s house. And chances were, we would have a cup of coffee. Just the thought of accepting hospitality from that woman made me nervous. I couldn’t remember whether she wore any large rings that might conceal poison.
My fingers flew up to the heart-shaped locket around my neck. Inside, behind a photo of my daughter, was my mandatory cyanide pill (death before captivity). Dak kept his in his watch. Liv had hers in her medical-alert bracelet—she was allergic to bee stings.
Vivian’s house was almost a complete replica of Tara. I rang the doorbell. It even played the theme song from
Gone with the Wind
. Yeesh. What an ego.
“Come in, Virginia.” She stood in the doorway, this time in a pink Juicy Couture jogging suit. I followed her down the hall to a three-season room in the back of the house. It had a perfect view of Vic’s yard. Despite being in Vivian’s sinister lair, this was a definite bonus.
“Thanks,” I said, accepting a cup of coffee from my hostess. “You have a lovely yard.” My teeth were clenched, but I believed I sounded sincere.
Vivian waved me off. “Oh it’s nothing. My gardener does it. I don’t even know what’s all out there.”
Trying not to appear too eager, I responded, “I was a botany minor in college ... mind if I look around?” I was out the door before she could stop me.
Damn. It really was a gorgeous spread. Early autumn hadn’t yet touched her flowers, and they bloomed brightly against the well-manicured lawn. Vivian walked alongside me, saying nothing as I “oohed” and “ahhhed” over her assortment of lilies, wildflowers and hostas.
From time to time, my eyes crossed over into Vic’s yard, but I didn’t see any toxic plants. No rhododendron, lily of the valley or black-eyed Susans. Not even a stray mushroom. Obviously, the FBI took its witness protection program seriously.
“Is that an elderberry bush?” I walked toward a shrub filled with berries at the border between Vivian’s and Leonard’s property. It was! Hmmm ... maybe I had found something useful after all.
“I don’t know,” Vivian said tersely. “Let’s go back inside. I’m not that fond of the outdoors.”
I rolled my eyes and followed her inside. Now I had to make her forget we were ever out there.
“Vivian, I see the PTA has sent home a fundraising brochure.”
“Yes, for playground equipment.” She sounded bored again.
“Well, there are so many fundraisers this time of the year, I had an idea for raising money.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened, as if she were surprised I was capable of intelligent thought.
I ignored her expression. “I was thinking I’d rather just write a check to the school and be done with it. That way, all the money goes directly to the project, not just a percentage. And there’s no work involved with taking orders, delivering orders and collecting money.”
“Good for you. But how does that help?” I could see she didn’t think I had an idea.
“If I would rather do that, my guess is other parents would rather do that too. The school could make a lot more money and the parents would be happy they didn’t have to sell junk to everyone they know.”
Vivian leaned back and took a sip of her coffee. She was frowning, which probably meant that she was pissed she hadn’t come up with the idea herself. Even though this idea was just a pretext to scope Vic’s yard, I thought it had real merit. I didn’t need any pumpkin spice candles or tins full of cashews any more than the next guy.
“I like that,” Vivian responded with a frown. Only she could make a good idea feel bad. “Of course, we’ve already started the fundraiser, but maybe I could turn your little idea”—she waved her hand at me, dismissively—“into a real, workable project for the spring.”
I suppressed a rising tide of fury. It didn’t matter what she thought, or that she was planning to put her name on it and reap the glory. I had done what I wanted to do. Vivian would do everything she could to forget I even stopped by so she could claim the idea as her own. Mission accomplished.
“Now, Virginia, there is something I wanted to talk to you about as well.”
I’m pretty sure my expression registered fear and surprise. “What?”
“I want you to start a Daisy troop for the kindergarten class.” She looked like Cleopatra handing down an edict. I wished I had an asp handy, but they’re not native to this area.
“I don’t have time for that.... I don’t even know what that is!” I protested.
Vivian continued, “I’m sure you don’t. In our day, we started Girl Scouts with Brownies. Now, it starts with Daisy Scouts in kindergarten. It’s very easy. Even you can do this.”
For a moment, I thought about holding her down and shoving handfuls of raw elderberries down her throat. It would take quite a few, but it would be worth it to watch her go through the stages of dizziness, headache, nausea, vomiting, gastroenteritis, respiratory difficulty, convulsions, and if I was really lucky, death. I imagined sitting there, calmly, drinking my coffee and watching her body convulse on the floor. Of course, I’d wipe everything down before leaving. Because she was completely ignorant of what was in her backyard, the coroner would probably rule the death accidental.
“You’re not listening to me, Virginia!” she snapped.
“Oh, sorry,” I said.
I’m just imagining. your painful death
.
“Look, it’s very simple. You aren’t allowed to go camping or sell cookies. Just have a meeting or two each month.”
“I don’t think so, Vivian. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now....”
She raised her hand to silence me. “It’s very easy. Romi can even join.”
Again, I fought back the urge to race to her backyard with a bowl to begin collecting berries. “What do you mean by that?”
“I don’t mean anything by it. Really, Virginia. You are so touchy.” She handed me a piece of paper with a list of names and dates for training. “Call Sarah Wendt. I’ll let the three kindergarten teachers know you’re recruiting.”
Before I knew it, I was standing on the other side of her closed front door, holding a piece of paper and wondering what happened.
I had barely made it home when the phone rang. The caller ID said it was none other than Sarah Wendt.
“Hi, Ginny! I’m so glad you’re going to lead our troop!” The bubbly blonde on the other end of the line started before I could say so much as “hello.”
“But Sarah, I don’t know anything about running a Girl Scout troop! I didn’t even tell Vivian I would do it!”
“No problem. I scheduled your troop for a meeting next week. You’re gonna love it! See you Wednesday!” She hung up before I could answer.
“Okay,” I said to Liv ten minutes later in my kitchen, “all I wanted to do was get a look at Vic’s yard. Now I’m leading a Daisy Scout troop?”
Liv laughed. “You’ve done some bizarre things before, Gin. But I think this is my favorite.”
Only Liv could get away with that. “I guess I should’ve expected that when I went over there, huh?”
Liv nodded. “Duh! You delivered yourself into her evil clutches. Willingly, I might add.”
“Now my to-do list is really fucked up. How am I going to pull it all together? The reunion, Diego, Romi’s training, the job, cookies shaped like whatever and now starting a Girl Scout troop?”
“Maybe you could make witch cookies that resemble Vivian?” Liv suggested.
Hmmm ... not a bad idea. “I’m serious!”
“Okay,” Liv began, “I’ll help you with the troop. I’d like to get Alta into scouting anyway. We can do the training together and be co-leaders. It’ll be a way to spend time with the girls.”
I rubbed my chin. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
Liv continued, “And I’ll help with the job, and we’ll train the girls together. We’ll be together at the reunion too. The only thing I can’t help you with is your sex life. I have to draw the line there.”
“I don’t think you should rule it out,” I teased. “You’d like him. He’s really hot.”
She shook her head. “No threesomes. That’s my policy.”
“I’ll bet Todd hates that,” I murmured.
“Do you feel better about this?” Liv asked, ignoring my comment.
I nodded, “Well, yeah, since you’re holding my hand on everything else.”
She stayed for a couple of hours and we reviewed the file I had started on Vic. When Liv left, she told me she would try to find out more about him.
As I put the dishes in the dishwasher, I realized that even with Liv’s help, I was in way over my head. As if that were a first for me.
CHAPTER TEN
“It’s not that I’m afraid to die; I just don’t want to be there when it happens. ”
—Woody Allen
 
 
I stood in the doorway, my mouth hanging open. Which, by the way, was not a good look for me.
Diego grinned, a large pizza in his hands. “Hope you like pepperoni.”
I nodded. “It’s my favorite. How did you know?”
“You just struck me as a pepperoni type.”
“Really?” I asked, wondering what made me seem like a long, hard, red Italian salami.
“No. I just called Pizza Hut and asked what you usually get.”
“They tell you that?” Hmmm, that might be a useful tool in the future. Maybe I could get poisonous mushrooms on a Vic’s pizza.
Diego nodded. “Hard to believe, I know. I’ll have to make sure my client doesn’t use Pizza Hut.”
Damn, there went my brilliant idea.
“Gin?” Diego’s smoky voice slid into my thoughts. “Can I come in?”
“Oh! Yeah!” I stumbled backward to let him in.
“Mommy?” Romi appeared as soon as I closed the door behind Diego.
“Honey,” I replied, “this is my friend Diego.”
Diego knelt down to make eye contact. “You must be Romi. I’ve heard a lot about you. And you are just as lovely as your mum said.”
I’d like to note that if we were playing “strip date,” I would have already removed my pants.
“Okay,” Romi responded, “you can be my friend too.” Good girl.
I watched in amazement as Diego and Romi charmed each other throughout dinner. She listened to every word he said, and he acted as though she was the only person in the world. I just sat there like a lump, with a goofy smile pasted on my face.
“Mommy hasn’t had a boyfriend before. Not since Dad died, I think.”
I froze in my seat, smile fading rapidly. “Romi!”
Diego shook his head. “It’s all right, really.”
“How about some ice cream?” I said, jumping to my feet.
“Yay!” Romi cried out.
In just a few minutes, I had managed to keep her little, overactive mouth busy with three scoops of chocolate ice cream. Maybe three scoops was a little excessive, but I had to make sure she wouldn’t say anything like that again. Maybe I should have thrown in some gooey marshmallow topping.
I wasn’t angry with her, just a little embarrassed. But why should I be? It was the truth. Being a widow was nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, it’s not like
I
killed him.
“She’s a great kid,” Diego whispered as we shut the door to her bedroom. Okay, so I used her little comment to impose a slightly early bedtime. She can’t tell time yet.
“Thanks. She comes from good breeding stock.”
Yikes!
I could not believe I said that. Trying to make him forget I had hinted at sex, I settled us on the couch in the family room with a bottle of red wine.
“You’re pretty fantastic with kids,” I said.
“I love them. I think I told you about my niece and nephews on our last date.”
“Oh, so this is a date?”
Diego grinned, winning my shirt in the aforementioned imaginary strip game. “That’s what I thought.”
I smiled smugly as he put his arm around me. Damn, he smelled good. It had been so long since a gorgeous man touched me—without fighting for his life, that is.
“Okay,” I replied, “if this is a date, I expect you to tell me more about yourself.”
Diego squeezed me gently. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“Well,” I responded, leaning against him, “I guess I should know the usual stuff—what trips your trigger ... do I trip your trigger? ... that kind of thing.”
BOOK: 'Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy
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