by Gina LaManna
“I don’t know your motive yet, but you don’t seem inclined to help with the investigation. What’s the link between the three of you?”
“There is no link, nor was there.”
“Did you have a thing for Sam?” I asked. “Did May steal him from you?”
“This isn’t some stupid lovers’ quarrel!” Rachel snapped. “A woman died. I would have never have killed anyone over Sam.”
“But you knew him.” I said. “You liked him, maybe loved him.”
“Who are you?” she asked again. “What did Sam tell you? How do I know you’re not making all this up? The police are saying it was an accident. I don’t know why you have to look into it at all.”
“Because someone close to May believes it wasn’t an accident and hired me to help. If you’re not interested in answering a few questions...”
May shifted her weight uncomfortably from one foot to the next. “I have nothing more to say on the subject. I have to finish my work here, and I’d appreciate you leaving now.”
“Thanks for your time,” I said, before spinning on my heel and dragging a giggling Bella out of the room. It was at that very moment Bella waved bye-bye for the first time. To Rachel. A potential murderer.
“Wonderful,” I said, after appropriately squealing over her accomplishment. I would be leaving that anecdote out of the baby book.
We made it upstairs without further excitement. I found Anthony lounging on the bed. The expression on his face slid toward guilt as he flicked off the soccer game on TV and turned to me. “Hi, sugar.”
“Don’t you, hi, sugar, me,” I said. “Look at this!”
I extended Bella toward him, her pudgy little legs dangling underneath the grass skirt.
He gave a startled cough. “She’s adorable.”
“Well, I know that, but don’t you think she’s a little young for coconuts?”
“It’s Nora,” Anthony said with a shrug. “She’s harmless.”
I glared at him, though I wasn’t particularly upset. Really, I was just trying to build up credit for what I needed to ask him next. “I think you owe me.”
“Name it.”
“How do you feel about a romantic evening?”
“Just the two of us?” Anthony asked, watching me for the catch. “Alone?”
“Mostly,” I said. “I was thinking more along the lines of a stakeout.”
“I assume you’re not talking about food.” He squinted at me, then his eyes fixed on Bella. “Since I owe you one, I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“Nope.” I said. “And while I hate to say it, you have to put a shirt on, or else we’ll be the opposite of inconspicuous—whatever that is.”
“Conspicuous.”
“Sure,” I said, then tossed him a shirt. “I’m also going to need you to get Carlos’s keys back from him and pull the car around front. I’m going to get Bella out of this mess, then fed and washed up, and ready for an evening with grandma.”
Anthony dutifully climbed from bed and slithered into his shirt. “Your wish is my command.”
“Great!” I called after him. “Then I wish for you to not open the trunk to the car!”
“If I were married to anyone else, I might be concerned.”
I gave him a thin smile. “There’s nothing to worry about if you like papaya.”
“I’m not going to ask any more questions.”
“Probably a good idea,” I agreed.
“I expect you’ll fill me in on the details you uncovered today while we’re in the car?” Anthony pulled the door open. “And you’ll explain who we’re staking out and why?”
“You betcha, babe. See? Isn’t this better than a candle lit dinner any night of the week? Imagine if we went to see a movie like everyone else—we wouldn’t be able to talk. This is quality bonding time.”
“You’re right,” Anthony deadpanned. “I’m the luckiest man in the world. Some women wear lingerie for their husbands, but not Lacey Luzzi.”
“That would be far too cliché.”
“I beg to differ,” Anthony said quickly, sneaking out the door before I could retort.
I continued the process of getting Bella fed, bathed, and ready for bed. I tucked her into her grandmother’s (very excited) arms, along with a duffel bag of books, and bid both girls goodnight. Nora mostly managed to avoid saying I told you so except for three different occasions as I prepared to leave.
Finally, I made my way down to the lobby bar where Anthony was sipping a dark colored beverage with big fat squares of ice clinking around inside of it. He’d ordered a sparkling water for me, and we kicked off our stakeout date by waiting for Rachel to leave.
We were rewarded for our efforts half an hour later, sometime after I’d finished filling Anthony in on my day and before Anthony allowed me to order an appetizer. Movement caught my eye, and I nodded toward the doors where Rachel’s head was down, a bag slung over her shoulder as she hurried away from us.
“Looks like she’s in a bit of a rush,” I said as Anthony and I slid from our stools. “Isn’t this romantic?”
Anthony flipped a bill toward the bartender and raised an eyebrow. “Try again.”
“Where do you think she’s off to?” I asked aloud, and then answered my own question. “I’ll bet you fifty bucks and a backrub that she’s headed straight over to Sam’s house.”
“Probably,” Anthony agreed. “Either they want to get their stories straight, or she’s going to grill him to find out what he told you.”
“Which is exactly why we have to be there before they settle on what didn’t happen and stick to it when the cops come knocking.”
He nodded, a firm business-like expression sliding over his face. The soft playful cheeriness that had been in his eyes was officially traded for the sharp intelligence he donned when on a job. Ironically, it was the same expression he’d been wearing when I met him. For some odd reason it gave me butterflies.
“Are you driving or am I?” he asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “So long as you don’t touch the trunk.”
Chapter 6
I couldn’t quite decide if it was cute or ridiculous that Anthony and I held hands on the way to our stakeout. As we followed Rachel across town, it quickly became apparent that she had errands to run before she went to discuss business with Samuel.
Anthony and I followed her to a beauty supply store, a dry cleaner’s, and the grocery store. Each time, we wound up circling the block until she pulled back on the road to avoid her recognizing our vehicle as we trailed her around town.
As we finally pulled onto the road headed toward Sam’s bungalow, “Lady in Red” crooned in the background on the radio. Careening around the mostly one-lane roads that circled the island, I leaned a head on Anthony’s shoulder and smiled up at him as he hummed along, unaware he was doing any such thing.
“I told you this was romantic,” I said. “Though I’m not sure who your lady in red is.”
Anthony glanced over. “Your shirt is red.”
“It’s pink.” I thumbed the material over my stomach. “Like, a very bright pink.”
“Red.”
“Pink. Are you colorblind?”
“It’s dark!”
I leaned forward and switched the station. Rap music wasn’t nearly as romantic, nor was it my favorite thing ever, but at least it kept us from having the what-color-is-my-shirt discussion that rarely ended well.
Anthony grinned. “You would look great in red, for what it’s worth.”
“Keep digging yourself out of that hole, my friend,” I said with a playful wink. “Though if it helps, I am wearing red... somewhere. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you find out later.”
Anthony groaned as he pulled the car to the side of the road and tucked it as inconspicuously as possible between the other vehicles parked on the dusty curb. After throwing the vehicle into park, he chanced a glance at me.
“Maybe I can get a preview—”
&nbs
p; “Hold your shorts on,” I told him. “I’ve got to go around back and listen before it’s too late.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“Two’s a bit of a crowd,” I said, sliding out of the car. “Why don’t you wait here and be my getaway driver?”
“Lacey—wait!”
I paused, holding the door open. “What?”
“Is it really necessary to crawl underneath their windows and eavesdrop?” Anthony asked. “Just snap a photo of the two together and confront them tomorrow. You’ll have proof they know one another, and you won’t have to go sneaking through bushes again.”
“I happen to excel at sneaking through bushes,” I pointed out, “and I can’t waste this opportunity, sorry. Love you, honey.”
Anthony closed his eyes as I shut the door. While he might appear to be sleeping to the average person, I knew from experience that this was, in fact, his I’m trying to be patient with my wife look. A look I happened to appreciate very much. I would most probably owe him a flash of a little something red later tonight.
Or tomorrow morning, I thought, stifling a yawn. I might have gotten a full night’s rest finally, but we were in a different time zone, and it’d been a while since I’d done this sleuthing business. It took more energy than I remembered, especially since I lacked my normal array of sugar-infused snacks, cereals, and coffees.
Creeping toward Sam’s bungalow, I kept myself hunched over and mostly shielded by the healthy mix of darkness and trees. The grass swished against my ankles, tickling, itching as I slipped through a neighboring yard and ended up beside Sam’s house.
I found the chunk of roof that I’d noticed missing earlier, skirted it, and flinched from shadowy corners where I imagined spiders the size of my head hiding in wait. Inching forward, I located an open window on the first level, and through it, raised voices leaked out into the night.
“—shouldn’t be here,” Sam was saying. “Why’d you come? You’d better hope nobody saw you, or else it’ll seem like we’re working together.”
“Why did I come?” Rachel asked with in a pitchy screech. “Why’d you go flaunting my name to the authorities? I didn’t have anything to do with May’s death, and you know it.”
“What authorities? I didn’t talk to any authority.”
“Then who’s the chick who came looking for me at the hotel?” Rachel pressed. “The one with the baby? Shame, the baby’s so cute, and she’s so...”
I wrinkled my nose. It was hard to be offended, however, when I wasn’t supposed to be hearing the conversation in the first place. And I’d ticked both of them off already, digging into the suspicious death of their friend. That was probably why she was feeling so hostile.
“Dude, I thought you sicced her on me,” Sam said. “Isn’t that how she found me?”
“Of course not! I didn’t sic anyone on anyone,” Rachel retorted. “I’ve been keeping my head down and trying to mind my own business. I didn’t want anything to do with May when she was alive, and I especially don’t want anything to do with her now that she’s dead.”
There was a long, tense silence. I felt the sudden urge to scratch at my nose. And itch my elbow. And pull my hair into a ponytail. And go to the bathroom.
I did none of that, but I did shift uncomfortably, and there was the crack of a small twig. Holding my breath, I eased closer to the house, muffling a squeal of disgust when I saw what appeared to be a tarantula less than a foot from my face.
Maybe it was just a normal little spider, but there was fuzz on its back. And it was dark, and the thing looked like it was ready to eat me. I had a young baby and a husband to keep happy, and I couldn’t afford death by spider bite.
Neither, however, could I afford to run. Because the silence remained, and one wrong step would alert Sam and May to my presence. While I wasn’t convinced that either one had offed May, there was the very good chance one of them knew more than they were letting on and would go to big lengths to keep themselves out of trouble.
So, I settled for a stare down with a spider and was struck by the realization that my romantic vacation wasn’t very romantic at all. Murder, spiders, pilfered papayas... I needed to get a handle on things—and fast—before this vacation passed me right on by.
I exhaled slowly, my heart pounding so loud it reached my eardrums. I could feel my pulse pounding in my knees. I wasn’t sure how, but it was happening.
“Did you...” May asked suddenly. Quietly. “How could you, Sam?”
My racing heart stopped at once. I was sure if a cardiologist had a heart monitor on me in this moment I would appear to be a medical marvel. I listened closer, wondering if my job really had been this easy. If Sam was ready to admit to murder.
“Wait a second,” he said, ignoring the question. “If I didn’t hire the girl asking the nosy questions, and neither did you...then who did?”
“I don’t know,” Rachel said, sounding as surprised as if the thought had never dawned on her before. “Who cared enough about May to hire someone to look into her death? Besides, didn’t the police say it was an accident... or at least, that she was an accidental casualty?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “But—”
I never got to find out what Sam had intended to say because just then, my enemy made his move. The spider leapt forward. Probably, he just took a skittering step, but to me, it felt like he pounced straight for my head.
The tarantula-like monster landed on my arm, and I let out a blood curdling shriek. There was no stopping it. With a flick and a flail and some more screaming, I threw my arms up and spun in a circle before racing in the general direction of Anthony.
I vaguely heard Sam’s front door opening, and the dismayed sounds of Sam and Rachel shouting after me, but I didn’t bother to look back. I didn’t care if they recognized me. The only thing I cared about was jumping into a hot shower and scrubbing my skin off. Or diving into the ocean—whatever was closest.
Anthony flashed his lights at me, and I caught a glimpse of his alarmed face through the windshield as I sprinted down the middle of the road toward him. I raced to the passenger’s side door and flung myself across the seat.
“Drive!” I instructed him.
“Where?” He glanced over, but he had been around the Luzzi family for long enough to know that when in a pickle, orders needed to be followed. He floored the gas pedal. “What happened to you? Is everything okay?”
“I might be dying,” I said, trying to calm my hyperventilation. “But don’t worry about it. Just get us home.”
“What did they do to you?” Anthony’s face went slack, an expression I knew meant he was hiding his fury. “Did they see you?”
“Well, seeing as I went flailing and screaming down the middle of the road,” I said dryly, finally able to breathe again, “I’m going to go with yes.”
“But—”
“How many poisonous spiders are there in Hawaii?”
“What?”
“Poisonous spiders,” I said. “Quickly.”
“I don’t know,” Anthony said. “Probably a few, but is now the time to get paranoid?”
“It’s exactly the time,” I said. “I got chased by a spider.”
“Hold on a second.” Anthony meant it in a very literal sense as he threw the car into a stunning rendition of a U-turn and headed toward the hotel. “Are you telling me your panic is because of spiders, not the stakeout?”
“Well, it was a big spider, and it was just looking at me.”
Anthony’s lips grew tight and his face went pale. “It looked at you wrong, huh?”
“It sounds stupid, but you weren’t there. It jumped on me. Landed on my arm.”
“And did you flick it off?”
“Well, yeah!”
Anthony heaved a huge sigh.
“Don’t make light of this,” I said. “I might have died. I don’t think you want to be a single parent because you lost your wife to a spider bite, do you?”
“No, Lacey, I don�
��t.”
“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”
“I also don’t want to be a single parent because my wife got herself involved in a murder case she shouldn’t have,” Anthony said as he cruised down the highway back toward our hotel. “You just announced your presence loud and clear to two of the biggest suspects on the case.”
“Let’s ignore the screaming bit and not really share that news around,” I said, feeling the slightest flush of embarrassment once I’d realized that I hadn’t actually been bitten, though I had exposed myself to both Sam and Rachel. They would know I’d heard everything they’d said in the kitchen, meaning I’d lost any advantage I might have gained from the stakeout. “Anyway, I don’t think Rachel killed her colleague.”
“How were you able to hear over the sounds of screaming?” Anthony asked, but his question was tipped with a good-natured smile. “I couldn’t hear myself think.”
“It was before that,” I said. “I suspected the two might be working together. Jilted lovers sort of thing, or even forbidden love. Maybe they wanted to be together, but May was in the way.”
“Why wouldn’t Sam have just broken up with May?”
I shrugged. “One would think that would be the logical solution, but humans aren’t always logical.”
Anthony gave me a knowing glance, and then shot a very pointed gaze toward my arm. “I understand.”
“Being afraid of spiders is quite logical,” I said. “They’re big and hairy, and they creep around.”
“By the same logic, that would mean you’re afraid of Clay.”
“And sometimes I am,” I said. “Which proves my theory correct.”
“Why don’t you think they’re working together?”
“They didn’t sound friendly,” I said. “Rachel was upset. Sam was upset. I didn’t really stick around long enough to hear any of them confess anything. Rachel swore she didn’t do anything. Sam didn’t swear one way or another. But they definitely were confused.”
“About what?”
“Who hired me,” I said, tapping my lip with my pointer finger in thought. “They didn’t seem to think there was anyone out there who cared enough to dig into May’s death after the police ruled it accidental.”