Moscow Mules & Murder

by Quinn Avery

  Beckett and Molly exchanged an earnest look before they cheered half-heartedly, clinking their glasses with mine. A few other patrons sitting at the tiki bar hollered along, most likely clueless to the content of our conversation.

  Scowling, Grayson wrapped his fingers around my forearm. “Zoey,” he whispered with a heavy sigh. “That’s not fair.”

  I jerked away from him. “Yo, Finnster!” I called, slapping my hand on the bar. “How about a round of tequila shots for your favorite coworkers?”

  “I think it’s time to call it a night,” Grayson interjected, waving a hand to stop Finn as he approached from the service side of the bar.

  “Are you giving me a curfew, grandpa?” I snorted in an unfeminine-like laugh.

  Balking, Finn pointed at Grayson. “Wait. This guy’s your grandpa?”

  I spun on my stool to face Finn. “You didn’t know? He’s—”

  My butt continued to slide all the way off of the stool. I landed so hard in the sand that I was shocked I didn’t bite my tongue clean off. “Ow.”

  While my friends erupted in laughter, Grayson was quick to loop an arm around my waist and lift me back onto my feet. “Party’s over,” he declared, keeping his arm locked around my waist. “Either you’re coming to my place, or Molly is going home with you.”

  Beside us, Molly wolfed down the last of her drink and swiped her wristlet from the bar. “Hold up! I’m coming!”

  After wishing the others a good night, Grayson began to lead me away from the bar. As the clamor of the others faded behind us, he said, “You couldn’t be more wrong about my perception of you. I’m only protective because I couldn’t deal if you somehow got hurt.”

  With a rush of guilt, I leaned against him.

  On the street in front of our house, Grayson let the truck idle. “I’m glad you forced me to tag along. I can’t remember the last time I had that much fun.”

  “Probably when the doctor slapped your bare behind and announced you were a boy,” I retorted with a snicker.

  “Okay!” Molly reached for the door handle. “On that incredibly snarky note, I believe I’ll slip inside and give you two a minute to work things out.”

  “No need.” Looping my arm through hers, I lifted my chin defiantly in Grayson’s direction. “There isn’t anything for us to work out.”

  “You’re wrong about that,” he disagreed, resting his forearm on the steering wheel. “But we’ll talk tomorrow.” Grimacing, he eyed the stone path among palm trees leading up to Teenie’s baby blue bungalow. “At least let me walk you to the door.”

  “No need for that either,” I told him, sliding off the bench seat behind Molly.

  “If you need me—”

  “Better hurry home and let Lucky out.” I slammed the door shut and threw him a curt wave. “Good night, Detective Rivers.”

  One corner of his mouth twitched in a failed effort to smile. “Good night, ladies.”

  The truck inched forward and disappeared into the darkness.

  Molly waited for me at the bottom of the bungalow’s front step, arms folded and one foot tapping. “You were super harsh on him, Zo.”

  “You weren’t there when he said he liked me and wanted to kiss me, but I was too immature and nothing would happen between us because I’m too much like his ex.” I nudged past her, digging my house keys from my pocket. “It was humiliating.”

  “Give him time to get to know you better. No matter what he says, I can tell he’s super into you. He won’t be able to keep resisting you after the moves you showed him tonight. You two totally looked like a couple when you danced!”

  Sighing, my shoulders bowed forward. “But what if I really am just like his last girlfriend? I have no desire to put myself in another life-threatening situation like this morning when I was going to confront that Ron dude. Seriously, Mol, it was the worst. I was sure him and his wife were gonna chop me up and feed me to their gang of monster koi fish.”

  “I beg your pardon?” a deep voice boomed from somewhere within the nearby bushes.

  Molly and I yelped, flinging our arms around each other.

  “Who’s there?” I cried, wishing I had relieved myself before we’d left the bar.

  On our other side, Grayson materialized with his gun aimed at the bushes. “Come out of there with your hands up!” he ordered in a deeper than usual baritone. If I hadn’t been so terrified, I may have found his “detective mode” extremely sexy.

  A man arose from the bushes and dropped something at his feet. It made a metallic clang. Molly and I, still attached at the hip, scurried in the opposite direction as the man crept out from the bushes, hands lifted toward the black sky. He was just far enough from the front step’s lights that his face remained concealed by shadows.

  “Who are you?” Grayson demanded.

  “Wait!” Molly let go of me to grab her cell phone from her wristlet. She activated the flashlight and shined it directly into the man’s face.

  Ron Finkle flinched, jerking his head away from the light. “Turn that off!” Dressed in black jogger pants and a black moisture-wicking shirt, he definitely wasn’t out showing houses to potential renters.

  “I knew it!” I shouted, pumping a fist in the air. “It was you harassing me all this time! You and Glori totally wanted to chop me up earlier today and feed me to your fish!”

  Molly’s wide eyes volleyed between me and Ron. “Who would do that?”

  “My sweet Glori and I would never!” Ron barked in reply. “Violence makes us both squeamish!”

  Grayson kept his gun pointed at Ron. “Are you carrying any weapons?”

  “Of course not!” Ron barked in an offended tone. “What do you people think this is? I’m not a thug!”

  “Only thugs dress like that and sneak around people’s yards this late at night,” Molly informed him. She lifted her hands out at her sides. “Just saying.”

  “Well I’m not one!” Ron sniffed.

  Grayson tilted his head toward the bushes. “What did you drop over there?”

  “It was only a can of spray paint. I was going to write Zoey a strongly-worded message, demanding she leave Ginny alone!”

  “Depending on your choice of strong words, you could’ve been charged with a terroristic threat.” In a few long strides, Grayson rushed in to pat Ron down from head to toe before returning his gun to his waistband. “What’s your connection to Ginny?”

  Ron slowly lowered his arms. “We were in love. We’d been having an affair for years. I was going to leave my wife for her.”

  He must not have been aware of Ginny’s other lovers, I decided with a humph. Eyes narrowed, I brought my fists to my hips. “But then your ‘sweet Glori’ found out about the affair, and demanded you kill Ginny?”

  “What? No!” Ron spat, teeth bared. “Leave my wife out of this!”

  Molly hummed. “Ginny decided she was only with you because she had daddy issues, so you killed her?”

  Ron squeezed his eyes shut and rapidly shook his head. “I didn’t kill anyone, damn it!”

  Grayson passed us a sharp look. “How about we let him tell his story without any more interruptions?” He pointed at Ron. “I hope you’re aware it would be pointless for you to run at this point.”

  Cocking his head, Ron smoothed his mustache with a trembling hand. “Am I under arrest?”

  Ignoring the question, Grayson gestured to the bungalow’s front step. “Have a seat, Mr. Finkle.”

  Ron let out a long, shuddering breath and plopped down near me. I leaped away from him, grabbing Molly again before I fell.

  In a squared stance directly in front of Ron, Grayson crossed his arms over his chest. “When did you last see Ginny?”

  “I don’t remember the exact date.” Ron hunched forward, fingers repeatedly smoothing the creases on his tanned forehead. “All I know is it was the last time she worked at Beach Bummers.”

  Grayson glanced my way, eyebrows lifted.

  “We had made plans to run
away together the following week,” Ron continued, “but I was going to surprise her at the end of her shift that night with an engagement ring. I wanted to ask her to marry me on the beach under the full moon.”

  “Aww,” Molly cooed, clasping her hands together. “That’s super romantic!”

  I leaned in closer to my friend. “He was married to Glori at the time.”

  Molly threw a hand over her mouth. “Oh. Right.”

  Throwing a sideways glance in our direction, Grayson cleared his throat. “What happened that night, Mr. Finkle?”

  “I never got the chance to pop the question.” Ron’s brows lowered. “When I arrived at the bar, I found her in the parking lot in the midst of an argument with another woman. It was plenty heated.”

  Goosebumps spread over my arms.

  “Did you recognize the other woman?” Grayson pressed.

  “It was dark, so I didn’t get a very good look at her. She didn’t seem familiar.”

  “Do you remember what the argument was about?”

  “Never did catch what they were saying.” Ron shook his head over and over. “I called out to Ginny, afraid the woman was going to strike her. I must’ve startled the other woman. She spun around and tripped, falling face first into a cinder block. That poor woman’s face had been smashed to smithereens.”

  “Oh!” Molly and I chorused, flinching in perfect unison.

  Grayson’s jaw flexed. “You didn’t call nine-one-one?”

  “There was no point,” Ron insisted, his voice wavering. “She wasn’t walking away from that fall. Besides, it was an accident! We were both afraid the police wouldn’t believe Ginny hadn’t done anything malicious to that woman! She was far too beautiful for prison, and I had dished out thousands for her boob job!” He set his face inside his hands and began to cry. “I had to protect my investments!”

  No wonder why so many people who knew Ginny had remarked on the size of her chest, I thought.

  With a hand on Ron’s shoulder, Grayson softened his tone. “Ron, what did you and Ginny do after you realized the woman was dead?”

  “I sent Ginny away, and told her never to return.”

  “Did she say how she knew the woman?”

  “I didn’t think to ask. Probably because I was in shock. We both were.”

  Grayson nodded. “Did you look to see if she was carrying any form of identification?”

  “I didn’t think of it at the time.”

  “What about the body?” Grayson asked.

  Ron lowered his head. “I told Ginny I’d take care of it.”

  “And did you?”

  “I dug a…grave…behind a rental…a block away from the bar.” Ron’s cries escalated into heaving sobs. “I’m so sorry! I wasn’t thinking straight!”

  Grayson reached for Ron’s bicep, pulling him to his feet. With his other hand, he produced a pair of handcuffs. “Ron Finkle, you’re under arrest for unlawful disposal of a corpse, and accessory after the fact. You have the right to remain silent…”

  Fourteen

  After Ron Finkle’s arrest, I tossed and turned until the first light of dawn crept through my window. During the small bursts of time in which I had slept, my nightmares were riddled with the grotesque image of a faceless woman. As soon as I heard noises coming from the kitchen, I threw on the sky blue kimono robe my mom had gifted me on my last birthday, and padded out of my room.

  Donning her peacock print robe, dark hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, Molly sat hunched over the kitchen island. With her chin resting on her knee, she watched a pot of coffee brewing. She turned to me, revealing slight shadows beneath her light blue eyes. “Hey, Zo. Did you get any sleep?”

  “A little,” I said, shivering with the memory of my nightmares. “I wish I would’ve just stayed up all night.”

  Molly huffed a laugh. “Same.” She lifted her chin off of her knee. “Have you heard anything more from Grayson?”

  “He sent me a text around four, letting me know they’d booked Ron, and he was heading home as soon as he finished writing his report.” With a sudden yawn, I ran a hand through my crazy hair. “It’s a good thing neither of us work today. Smith would’ve been forced to tie on an apron while we napped in the sand.”

  Knuckles rapped against the front door.

  Molly popped off the stool and headed over to answer it. “Guessing that’s Beckett. I filled him in on what happened last night, and he freaked.”

  With a zombie-like gait, I moved over to the island to pluck a Granny Smith from the basket on the island. “I hope you didn’t tell him everything, considering it’s an ongoing investigation.” Eyes closed, I took a lazy bite and began to chomp on the sweet fruit. There wasn’t enough coffee on the entire island to prevent me from falling asleep on my feet.

  “Mornin’!” Grayson’s deep timber exclaimed.

  Eyelids springing open, I coughed up a piece of apple as Grayson stepped inside. Hair slightly damp and neatly combed, he wore dark jean shorts with a gray t-shirt featuring Nirvana’s In Utero cover and leather sandals. In my state of exhaustion, the only thought I could muster was: yummy.

  Eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief, he held one of Dee Dee’s signature pink boxes out while flashing me an easygoing smile. “I figured you two would be hungry this morning.”

  His dark gaze flashed down to my robe, then danced over my hair before his eyes locked with mine. I hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror after I crawled out of bed. He probably was trying to decide if I had spent the night trapped inside a wind tunnel with a pack of feral cats.

  The apple dropped from my hand, thudding against the hardwood floor.

  Molly rushed forward to take the box. “How thoughtful! Zoey’s obsessed with Dee Dee’s.”

  “I’ll be right back!” I announced, dashing back to my room. I slammed the door shut and leaned back against it, face hotter than lava. The only way I could’ve been more embarrassed was if he had caught me naked.

  I ran into my bathroom, moaning when my reflection confirmed my worst fears. Fresh road kill was more attractive. I feverishly washed my face and brushed my teeth before wrangling my hair into a ponytail and throwing on a light application of makeup. I fell over while wrangling on a fresh pair of underwear, and got my arm stuck over my head when whipping on a clean t-shirt. By the time I made it back out into the kitchen, panting under my breath, Grayson and Molly were down to the last few bites of their donuts.

  “I was beginning to think you had climbed out a window and hitched a ride to Mexico,” Molly teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

  Subtly flashing my tongue at my roommate, I reached inside the pink box. My heart melted a little when among the array of baked goodness, I spotted two of my favorite Bavarian cream donuts with pink frosting and white sprinkles. I peered upward, meeting Grayson’s knowing grin.

  “You’re perfect,” I blurted.

  With Grayson’s wide-eyed expression, Molly dissolved into a fit of belly laughter.

  Realizing my mistake, my cheeks flamed. “I meant they’re perfect! The donuts! The donuts are perfect! I mean—you’re great too!” I spread my hands over my face. “Oh my god. I’m so damn tired,” I muttered.

  A deep laugh rumbled in Grayson’s chest. “You’ve had an eventful couple of days.” He tugged on one of my elbows, moving my hand away from my face, and patted the open stool between us. “Sit and eat your donuts while I walk you through the next steps.”

  I snagged one of the donuts, smacking my giggling roommate on the back before I settled next to Grayson. Still mortified by my faux pas, I stared down on the donut in my hand while he spoke.

  “The chief called Avery this morning to see if she could fill out Ginny’s warrant for a judge to sign,” he told us. “But she spent a good part of the weekend in the hospital with stomach pains, so they’re running tests to find out what’s going on. It’s going to slow things up since the chief and I aren’t too familiar with the computer system. There’s no rush anyway since
I doubt the warrant will get us anywhere. The last known address we could find for Ginny was here on the island. Beyond that, we couldn’t find a trace of her existence. No vehicle registered in her name, no property, no court records of any kind. It’s almost like she vanished.”

  “Just like her birth mom,” I realized, straightening my back before turning to him. “Maybe she hitched a ride with her to the Philippine Islands.”

  “It’s a possibility,” Grayson agreed with a slight nod.

  “Orrrr,” Molly trilled, one frosted-finger held up, “maybe Ginny had a secret evil twin, and Ron accidentally killed Ginny instead of the sister, so he created the story about another woman because he feels massive regret for killing the woman he loved.”

  I momentarily stopped chewing and stared at her. “We really need to wean you off Teenie’s soap operas.”

  Grayson reached over me, taking one of the chocolate eclairs. “We’re hoping to schedule an excavation of the woman’s remains once the prosecutor has had a chance to work out a deal with Ron Finkle’s attorney in exchange for showing us where he buried her.”

  “That poor woman.” I shivered when recalling the details Ron had provided. “Will they be able to identify her once they’ve recovered the rest of her body?”

  Swaying his head back and forth, he licked the frosting from his fingers. “It will depend on the level of decay, and whether or not she was buried with anything that might help speed up the process. Normally it can take weeks or months.” He took a bite of the eclair and shrugged while chewing the pastry on one side of his mouth. “Without a skull to go by dental work, I’m not convinced it’s entirely possible. We’ll know more once the remains are in the hands of a forensic pathologist.”

  We sat in comfortable silence for a handful of moments, scarfing down our donuts. The rush of sugar slowly began to clear the tequila fog from my brain. “Do you think Ron was lying when he claimed he didn’t know who she was?” I asked.