Trouble In Spades (12 page)

She sputtered, bent, and scooped. "Neither . . . will . . . you!" She laughed, a hysterical-sounding chuckle. I turned but not quick enough. Thick mud hit like a slap on my cheek.

We both dropped to our knees and started tossing mud pies.

"That's . . . that's for being so—so pouty!" I shouted. "Pouty!? I am not pouty!"

I sighed dramatically, mocking her. Mud flew, hitting my ear and the top of my head. "Poor me," I mimicked. "The gifts. The flowers!"

"Ooooh!"

"You're not the only one with problems, you know! The world doesn't revolve around you!" I tossed, and mud oozed down her cleavage. "Other people have problems too!"

"Like you?" Sarcasm dripped from her words. "Yes! Like me!"

"Aww." Mud hit me on my chest. Unfortunately there was no cleavage for it to slide into. "Riley? He's sneaking out again."

"Boo-hoo!"

I shoveled and tossed. Mud darkened Maria's hair. "And there's a panty thief in the neighborhood."

"You poor thing. Has he not hit your house yet? Is that why you're in an uproar?"

I sent her my best evil sister smile and rose to my feet. Maria scrambled up. I chased her, my fists full of mud. "My fiancé is missing!" she called back to me over her shoulder.

"Uh, hello? I found Ginger Barlow's lipstick on Kevin's boxers!"

"Yeah, but why would Nate cheat on
me
?!"

She must have been reading my homicidal thoughts, because she scampered away, mud splashing back at me as she ran.

She was fast, I'd give her that. As I chased her, I wondered at this weird competitiveness. This my-life-is-worse-than-yours thing we had going on. It was utterly stupid, yet . . .

I wanted to win.

I
had
to win.

Maria stopped short to avoid falling into the freshly dug pond, arms flailing. She lost her balance as she rocked, going down on her rear. Quickly, she scrambled away from the edge. I dove for her ankles before she could escape.

"I have dozens of relatives flying in!" she cried out. She kicked her foot out of my grasp, slithered sideways. "Yeah—all who seem to be staying with
me
!"

I grabbed her other foot, and she rolled onto her belly and tried to crawl away.

On hands and knees, I went after her. Abruptly she stopped, turned toward me, slightly pale.

Ah! Victory
. "And," I said, slightly out of breath, "I have to make nicey-nice with Brickhouse Krauss!" Take that, I silently added.

Maria swiped a muddy lock of hair off her face, narrowed her eyes as she adopted her Grace Kelly look. "Well,
I
have a dead body in my pond."

It took a second for her words to register. I was too busy thinking ahead to the next miserable aspect of my life. Carefully, I edged toward the pond, hoping this wasn't a ploy to push me in.

I peered. Sure enough, there was a woman facedown, dressed all in black, in the shallow murky water, her hair floating around her head like a blonde halo.

Slowly, I looked back at Maria, who was looking rather smug. "You win."

Best the medical examiner could tell without a full autopsy, Claire Battiste had been dead less than a day. I wasn't impressed. By now, two hours after Maria and I had found her body, everyone knew Claire had been seen at her office yesterday afternoon.

Kevin and Ginger Ho, er, Barlow had been questioning us since they'd arrived at Maria's. I cursed my luck that there weren't any other homicide detectives on duty. I pulled a blanket tighter around my muddy shoulders as two burly medical personnel carried the stretcher with Claire's body on it, zipped inside what looked like a Gor-Tex cocoon. I shuddered.

Kevin rubbed his chin. "Tell me again why you two were out in the mud?"

Maria looked up at him, arched a muddy eyebrow. "We were dumping a dead body in the pond." I gave her a sharp jab with my elbow.

Her high-pitched voice scraped my eardrums raw. "What? They've asked us the same questions over and over."

I glanced up at Kevin, gave him my best please-help-me face. It wasn't hard considering I looked the way I did. "Detective Barlow, why don't you walk Ms. Ceceri through the events."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Maria's lips press into a thin, tight line. Her control over her temper was being sorely tested.

As they walked away, toward the pond, Kevin picked up a lock of my mud-covered hair. It crunched between his fingers. "Mud's good for the skin, right? Same for hair?" I was in no mood. "Can we go now?"

We'd been through everything that had happened in the last two days—from Nate's disappearance to our trip to the Kalypso that morning. "Not yet."

I sat on the concrete step leading from the back door to the patio. "Maria called me last night," I said. "She'd thought she heard something back here . . . I thought she was just being paranoid after the break-in at the condo."

"Did she come out and look around?"

I shook my head. Mud crackled and fell to the ground. "No, but she did look out the window. She didn't see anything." "Is there any chance Nate was sleeping with Claire?"

I looked him straight in the eye. "I don't think so. Nate's not that kind of guy. Of course, I didn't think you were that kind of guy either."

The muscle in his jaw pulsed. "Was Maria jealous of Claire?"

I jumped to my feet. "Oh no! No, you don't. Maria has nothing to do with any of this."

He shrugged. "She's a suspect. The victim was found in her yard."

I swallowed hard. He was just trying to upset me.
Or prepare me
, my inner voice said.

I told it to shut up.

One of the crime scene guys carried a Ziploc bag with a ski mask in it past us. I blinked.

A ski mask. Dressed all in black . . . bulky black too. A huge sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants. Jaw dropped, I looked up at Kevin.

"Yeah, I noticed that too," he said. "We'll see what the autopsy says about her eyes."

"She had to be the person who broke into Maria's!"

"We can't assume anything. And I wouldn't share that theory with anyone until we know for sure."

With anyone . . . Like Maria. She did have a big mouth. I thought he was probably just being stubborn because he didn't want to admit a woman could have gotten through a dead bolt. "All right."

"We'll put out an APB on Nate and his car and continue to investigate all angles."

I wasn't above assumption. Claire had to be the one who'd broken into Maria's condo. It was too coincidental. What had Claire been looking for? The package Nate sent me? I opened my mouth to tell Kevin about the phone call I'd gotten and that package. After a second's hesitation I closed it again.

Kevin was a good detective. He'd learn soon enough of the courier who'd brought the package to me. Until then, I wanted to get it home and get a good look at what was inside. "What?" he said.

"What, what?"

"You were about to say something."

I took off the blanket, folded it and put it on the concrete step. "I'm just worried, is all."

"About Maria?"

I nodded. "Nate too."

His bright green eyes darkened as he dipped down to look me in the eye. "I'm worried about you," he said, nudging up my chin.

I backed away. "Don't. I can take care of myself."
Ha! Take that.

"Like you did when you got involved with the Sandowskis?"

Oh. Nothing like taking me down a notch. He was referring to the murder investigation I'd stuck my nose into a few weeks ago. The one that almost killed me.

I decided to ignore him. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah." He wagged a finger at me. "But stay out of this." I saluted him. "Yes, sir!"

Maria and Ginger were walking back to us. I looked at Ginger with a critical eye. What did she have that I didn't? Okay, sure. The long legs, long gorgeous auburn hair, the big boobs . . . But I had per
sonality
. That had to count for something, right?

I shot a murderous look at Kevin. He apparently had the ability to read my mind because he took one look at me and turned away, his eyes filled with guilt.
Good.

Maria sighed loudly. I could tell by the expression on her face that her patience was threadbare.

"And why, again, were you having a mud fight?" Ginger said.

Maria's perfectly plucked eyebrows dipped dangerously low and her lips were curled in a snarl.

Uh-oh.
I saw a dry cleaner in Ginger's future. Inwardly I cheered Maria on.

"Ms. Ceceri?" Ginger prompted when Maria didn't answer.

As if in slow motion, I saw Maria's bare foot snake out to trip her.

Ginger's arms flew out to grab Maria for balance, but Maria slyly backed away. Ginger fell head first into the mud. It covered her from forehead to toes.

Maria squatted and said in a fake beauty queen voice, "Oh, I'm so sorry! I don't know what happened. I must have slipped!"

I held in a laugh as Kevin shot me a dirty look. "What? I didn't do it."

"No, but you wanted to."

I smiled as innocently as I could. "Never!"

"Hmmph."

He turned to walk over to help Ginger up. That little inner voice in me egged me on. Really, I didn't need all that much encouragement. My muddy foot darted out. Kevin stumbled and fell forward like a giant sequoia.

He shook mud from his hands as he looked over his shoulder at me, narrowing his eyes.

I shrugged. "Oops."

A little after three, I parked Maria's Mercedes in my driveway and jumped out. I hurried up my front walk before I was swarmed by nosy neighbors.

I'd dropped Maria off at my mother's and promised to get her car back to her as soon as possible.

I was thinking next week. It was a seriously nice car.

A long hot bath sounded heavenly, but I would settle for a shower.

I caught sight of Riley next door, his head bent close to Mr. Cabrera's. What were they up to? My stomach filled with dread.

I snuck in the back door, hoping I wouldn't get waylaid by Mr. Cabrera. I was in no mood to play his game of twenty questions as to why I looked the way I did. Or get into another conversation about Brickhouse Krauss. I'd done all I could on that front. My conscience was officially clear.

I threw my Keds, jeans, and T-shirt into the washing machine, and grabbed a clean towel from the dryer. I wrapped it around me as I ran through the kitchen and up the stairs. Rivers of muddy water swirled down the drain as I showered. Claire Battiste, dead.

I didn't for a second believe Nate was behind it, despite what Kevin thought. Nate was much too kindhearted, and his voice on the phone earlier still sent chills down my spine.

He
had
been scared. Of what? Did he know who was behind Claire's death? Was that why he was on the run? As I shampooed for a second time, I realized that supposition didn't make sense.

Last time
Nate
had been seen was
with
Claire at lunchtime.
Claire
had last been seen
without
Nate in late afternoon.

If Nate hadn't called me this morning, I'd be phoning the morgues. As it stood now, I still might.

What w
as in that package?

I shut off the water, the pipes squeaking, and reached for a towel. I know he'd told me not to open it, but I had to. With Claire dead and Nate missing, there might be something in there to give us all a clue.

I slipped on a pair of faded denim shorts, pulled a tank top over my head.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn't forget that somebody had also tried to steal the envelope from me—so someone, maybe Nate, maybe the person who'd killed Claire, knew I had it.

The sooner I learned the contents and handed it over to Kevin, the better.

Quickly, I blow-dried my hair and went in search of my backpack. At the top of the stairs, I stopped short at the sound of voices rising and falling.

I crept down the stairs, peered over the banister. Blinked.

Mr. Cabrera spotted me. "Miz Quinn! You're just in time!"

I took the rest of the steps slowly, hoping I was imagining things. There weren't twenty-odd old people crowding my living room. I rubbed my eyes, blinked.

Oh Lord. There
were
!

I opened my mouth to ask them what they were doing here, how they got in, and how soon could they leave, when Riley came in the room, carrying a pitcher of lemonade and a stack of paper cups. I blinked, wondering when he'd taken hostess lessons from my mother.

He spotted me, grinned. "Hope you don't mind I volunteered to have the neighborhood watch meeting here."

"Me? Mind? Haha." I gritted my teeth. "Don't be silly." I supposed mine
was
the only house in the neighborhood with enough room to fit everyone . . . Just before she'd died, my aunt Chi-Chi had renovated the whole house, adding more room upstairs for a master bath, and downstairs, a bigger eat-in kitchen and a laundry room. She'd also knocked out the wall separating the living room from the unused dining room, making one big great room, which was where everyone was now seated.

Still, it had turned into a beautiful day. Couldn't they just pull up lawn chairs and do this outside?

Flash Leonard rose on shaky legs. "Here, Nina. Take my seat."

I averted my gaze as his robe slipped open. But not before I saw boxers covered in heart shapes. Waaaayyy too much information.

"Go ahead and sit," I told him, copping a spot on the arm of his chair.

He smiled at me and winked. "Were I but ten years younger," he said, patting my leg.

By my calculations, ten years younger would put him at eighty. Still, I'd heard rumors about him at eighty that would put most randy teenagers to shame. I smiled and covered his wrinkly hand with mine. "If I were but ten years older." He winked again.