"I cannot believe you are here!" Ivan physically pulled me through my window to the outside and into a big bear hug.
Ron pulled me out of Ivan's arms and into his. I felt like a ragdoll being shared by bears. Bears with bad hygiene habits. I wondered if I could take them shopping for some deodorant while they were in town.
I pulled myself away. "You guys aren't mad at me?"
You'd think they would be. After all, I'd betrayed them.
Ivan shook his head. "Nah. Because I do not really understand what's going on."
Ron agreed. "Let Wally worry about that."
You might think I'd been let off the hook here. Wally's minions liked me. They weren't furious that I'd been spying on them. But you'd be wrong. These two were as dumb as a box of hair. And one dog whistle from Wally and they'd snap my neck like a twig. They'd probably feel bad afterward. But they'd do it because they were trained to act immediately upon orders.
"You are married to nice policeman!" Ron said.
"You are the guys from the Git and Go?" I'd wondered when Rex got the call that they were talking about Wally's men. I just didn't consider it might be these two. Hey! Maybe I could get some intel out of them. Find out how serious Wally was about this "assignment." And maybe where he was right now.
"Oh yes," Ivan said. "We did not know you have to pay for slushies. In Chechnya, slushies are free."
I'd completely forgotten about that. The leader of that small nation had a thing for blue slushies. And once, he was in a Slash & Go—the name of that convenience store chain was accurate. Say the wrong thing and you'd get slashed. Then you'd have to leave so that you didn't bleed on the floors that only got mopped once a year. Anyway, there he was, gleefully filling his cup, when he realized he didn't have any money.
The terrified clerk was a bit relieved when the tyrant decreed right then and there that slushies were now free for everybody. Well, almost everyone. He left figure skaters out of it. He really didn't like them due to the fact that he'd had his heart broken by five of them in one year. As a result, figure skaters had to pay 30,500 rubles (roughly five hundred American dollars) to make up for the costs incurred for every non-figure skating Chechen's free slushies.
"Your husband bought our slushies for us. Nice guy!" Ivan added.
"Yes, he is!" I said brightly. "The best!" These two would be the men Wally would have kill Rex. Maybe I could work with this…
I glanced through the window of the ice cream shop, but it was dark and closed. How long had I been out?
"So! Asma! What do you do for fun around here?" Ron rubbed his hands together.
I took in the rows of shops on Main Street that were closed. A glance at my watch told me it was 9 p.m.
"Oh, it's not Asma anymore. I'm Merry now. And to answer your question, not much, I'm afraid. This is small-town Iowa. Not New York City."
Ivan got excited. "The City That Never Sleep!"
"The Big Apple!" Ron added.
"The City So Nice They Named It Twice!" I chimed in.
The two men stopped and looked at me curiously.
Ivan darkened. "That is the nickname of Blasto Blasto."
"You cannot steal that nickname!" Ron said.
"Blasto Blasto isn't a real town," I argued. "It isn't even incorporated."
Blasto Blasto was barely home to a single family. A woman named Maar lived there with about one hundred and fifty goats. They each had their little huts, and she delivered mail to them daily, which they promptly ate. When government officials insisted that it wasn't a real town, Maar showed them a makeshift post office she'd made out of branches and cereal boxes.
"If Blasto Blasto isn't really a town," Maar insisted, "why am I always delivering mail?"
The officials tried to point out that goats didn't have actual addresses and weren't recognized as people or even deserving of mail. Besides, they added, they weren't getting proper mail. Maar then showed them a huge basket full of stamped and addressed envelopes, all marked with a Blasto Blasto postmark.
"That's a wine stain," one official pointed out.
Maar responded by smacking him in the face with the nearest goat.
When the men demanded to see the constable, she pulled a plastic badge from a children's toy set and said she was the sheriff. The officials left, and Maar resumed her responsibilities.
And Maar was Ivan's aunt.
"Blasto Blasto," Ivan intoned. "The City So Nice They Named It Twice."
My right eyebrow arched. "So it's a city now?"
Ron nodded. "They have added running water!"
I glanced around, looking for signs of Hilly and Wally, which was why I was a little distracted when I asked, "Who's 'they?'"
"Ivan's aunt and the mayor."
This got my attention, mainly because I didn't see any sign of my Hilly. "There's a mayor?"
"He is a goat." Ivan nodded. "The biggest one. His name is Paul."
I had to admit I found this a little fascinating. "And the running water? They have plumbing?"
"Yes. It is a stream that runs through the city. Running water." Ivan pretended to drop a microphone while Ron yelled, "Booyah!"
"Sounds very cosmopolitan," I acquiesced.
"They serve that in the bar there," Ivan scowled. "A little girl drink."
"Okay." I gave up on arguing with them. "By the way, where's Wally?"
"He had ice cream with giant woman," Ron said.
I pointed to the darkened shop. "Yes, but where is he now?"
The two men looked at the storefront as if seeing it for the first time. "Oh. I guess they are gone." Ron sounded disappointed.
"Why did you leave us, Asma?" Ivan said suddenly.
"Well…" I sorted out what to tell them, finally settling on the truth. "I was a spy. You guys would've killed me. And it's Merry now. I'm not Asma anymore."
I figured if they got mad, I could take them on and win. Sure, I was a tad rusty, but I knew their vulnerabilities. Like for instance, Ivan suffered from gout. A stomp on his right big toe would double him over with pain. And Ron never really recovered from having his appendix out. The area was still tender, despite the fact that a doctor insisted that nothing was really wrong with him.
The men began laughing. It started with giggles but soon erupted into full-on hysterics complete with tears. Were they laughing because I was right and they thought pummeling me into a pulp would be funny?
"We don't care about that!" Ivan wheezed. "We have spies all the time. Like Bitsy!"
"You knew about Bitsy?" Now I was getting mad. How did everyone know she was CIA but me?
Ron hiccupped. "She did way more damage than you did!"
Okay, that seemed unnecessary. "She was the maid, for crying out loud!"
Ivan shook his head. "She got plans for attack on Russian targets from us."
"That was me!" I shouted. "I did that!"
Ron patted me on the head. "You are so funny, Asma! We miss you."
"It's Merry," I said through clenched teeth. "And I was the one who got those plans. Not Bitsy."
"No." Ivan wiped his eyes. "Wally told us. You were more like joke. Bitsy was the threat."
On the one hand, I hated that woman getting credit for my intrigues. And I hated that these men believed Wally. On the other hand, being underestimated is one of the best tools a spy can ever have.
"If I was so useless," I reasoned, "why are you here?" Would they admit that they were here to make sure I murdered my old boss?
Ivan shifted from one foot to the other. "Um…stuff."
"Stuff?"
Ron looked like he was at a complete loss for words. "We, uh, are here on vacation!"
Ivan brightened and nodded vigorously. "Yes! On vacation!"
"On vacation…" I shook my head. "That's ridiculous."
"Not ridiculous!" Ivan's enthusiasm got the best of him. "Aunt Maar sent us to have your town named Blasto Blasto's sister city!"
"Well, which is it? Tourism or a civic mission?"
>
The two men responded by huddling together and whispering. After a moment, they faced me. "Tourism!"
"What tourism?"
"Well." Ron thought about this. "You have a zoo!"
He had me there. A zoo might just about do it. I was about to suggest that Bladdersly might be a more appropriate sister city, when a police squad car roared up, lights blazing.
"Wow!" Ivan said in hushed reverence. "It's like Cops!"
A sheriff's cruiser pulled up next. Sheriff Ed Carnack got out as Officer Kevin Dooley and Rex exited the other car.
Ron and Ivan waved at Rex, grinning like idiots. "Hey, Mr. Asma's husband! Remember us?" Ron asked.
Rex nodded as if he expected this response. Kevin Dooley, the world's most inept policeman, was eating from a box of macaroons, and Sheriff Carnack looked confused.
"Hello, gentlemen." Rex smiled. "We need to have a word, please."
I stepped up to my husband, whispering in his ear. "What's going on? Why are you and Carnack here?"
"Backup," he whispered back.
I stepped back. "For what?"
Rex gave me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry to have to break this to you, although I don't really know if you'll be upset, but we need to arrest these two for the murder of your cousin Wally."
My hand came up to my mouth. "Wally? Wally's dead?"
My husband nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder. He knew enough to realize Wally was not my cousin. But he showed sympathy nonetheless. He was too wonderful, and I probably didn't deserve him.
Ron's and Ivan's grins faded fast as the sheriff put cuffs on them. "What are you saying?" Ron asked.
"How? When?" Questions popped out of my mouth before I could think straight. "Where's Hilly?"
"She's the one who found him," Rex said. "Officer Dooley, please put down the cookies and help the sheriff."
Kevin Dooley, town paste-eater and village idiot, shoved a handful of macaroons into his mouth and wiped his hands on his uniform before dragging Ivan to the squad car. Carnack shoved Ron in.
Both Chechens seemed to be in shock.
"They did it?" I pointed at the squad car.
"That's what the witness said," Rex explained.
"What witness? When did it happen?"
"Hilly," my husband answered as he opened his car door. "She said she saw these two stab Wally about twenty minutes ago."
As they drove away, I found it difficult to form thoughts. Granted, this was good news in that I didn't have to kill Riley and Rex was safe. On the other hand, it was far more complicated than that.
Mainly, because I was pretty sure that I was Ivan and Ron's alibi.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I drove home as fast as possible, taking a few shortcuts that included three alleys and one rather dubious eggplant garden that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, pulling into my old driveway with tires squealing. I didn't even knock. I just barged in, shouting for Hilly.
The CIA assassin (who wasn't an assassin) didn't answer.
I conducted a thorough search—and I mean thorough. You wouldn't believe how good spies are at hiding. I once found a guy inside a microwave in my apartment in Moscow. To be fair, it was a large microwave left over from the Soviet era (and I'm pretty sure it was powered by an irradiated hamster on a wheel). But if I hadn't done my due diligence, I probably wouldn't be here right now, chasing down a colleague to find out why she lied about a couple of Chechens.
I did find her clothes in the guest room, toiletries in the bathroom, and a huge jug of protein powder in the kitchen. But Hilly was gone. And I needed answers. It was obvious that my friend must've killed Wally and pinned it on his own men. Which was a great plan since it took all of the Chechens and their multiple threats of killing people I cared about off the table.
You are probably wondering why I was upset. Because, in spite of who they were, I liked Ron and Ivan. Sure, they were bad guys back in their homeland, but considering the general lawlessness that prevailed there, they were like a couple of well-built, scary ordinary joes who could snap your neck like a twig with one hand.
Maybe it was because Hilly had now put me in an impossible position. She must not have realized I'd be with those guys when she burped the badger on Wally. In any normal situation, I wouldn't lose any sleep over something like this, thinking justice had been served.
But this was different. First off, Ron and Ivan would insist that I was with them during the murder. Secondly, I couldn't lie about it. I mean, I could lie about it and convincingly at that. One time I convinced a roomful of Bolivian surgeons that I'd revolutionized the appendectomy using three toothpicks and a carefully repurposed tuba.
But here, where I was the wife of Who's There's only detective, I couldn't lie about a crime. I lived here, and I planned to continue living here—with the integrity of my marriage intact.
I called her number, which may seem strange because she'd just smashed her phone and replaced it with a new one. But knowing that Hilly was a genius with technology and probably came up with a way to keep her number despite destroying phones, I tried anyway. It worked and went straight to voice mail.
You have reached the voice mail of Hilly Vinton. Leave a message, or I'll kill you in your sleep. Just kidding. But seriously, I could totally kill you in your sleep. If you don't leave a message, I'll trace the number and show up in your bedroom in the middle of the night. You might as well leave a message because no one wants that.
"Hilly," I shouted into the phone, "call me back right now!" I hung up. Then I followed up with a text saying the same thing.
Now what? Maybe the crime scene would hold some clues, but where was it? I decided to call Dr. Soo Jin Body to see if she would give me any intel. What was I thinking? Of course she would. The drop-dead gorgeous medical examiner was a friend and had been my bridesmaid. She even owned Moneypenny, one of Philby's kittens. No problem.
"Hey, Merry!" she said cheerfully. "What's up?"
"This is going to sound a bit unusual," I said slowly, formulating my words. "But Rex just told me that my cousin Wally was murdered. I think he's messing with me."
Rex would never mess with me about something like that. Would Soo Jin buy it?
"Oh! I'm sorry! I'm actually at the crime scene now," the ME said.
"Where was he murdered?" I asked, trying to sound a little upset.
"I don't know how much I should tell you," Soo Jin said. "If he's your cousin, I don't think you should see him like this."
"Please?" I asked.
Soo Jin was a professional. She'd always allowed me access because I was usually there when it happened or the main suspect. I might have screwed up with my excuse though, because this case was different and now she thought I was the victim's next of kin.
"Oh! Riley's here!" she stated.
Dammit! That man had the jump on me! "I really need to be there. Riley isn't even involved!" Or was he?
There was some mumbling I couldn't understand, which infuriated me.
"He says," Soo Jin explained, "that this is part of a case he's working on."
"And you're taking his word on that?" I was jumping up and down like a toddler now.
"I'm sorry," she apologized. And I knew she really meant it. "This is policy. If you'd been here when it happened, that would be different. But since he's family, you can't just show up."
She hung up. On me. What was happening?
I called Rex, but he didn't answer. Neither did Riley, who will now be forever known as The Bastard. So I jumped in my van and headed downtown. I drove down Main Street, from one end of town to the other. Then I drove across town the other way. I crisscrossed it diagonally. I drove to the zoo. In fact, I covered the whole town in twenty minutes and didn't see one flashing light or a speck of yellow crime scene tape.
Where had Wally's murder happened? And why was Riley there, unless he was involved in the murder? The idea made him look guilty to me.
This time I drove to the police statio
n and tried to get inside, but the doors were locked. The lights were out. In fact, I didn't see Rex's squad car anywhere.
The sheriff's office! That's why I couldn't find the crime scene! It must've occurred outside town limits. Which would explain Ed Carnack's presence. I assumed Rex had called the sheriff for backup. But considering he didn't have any deputies with him, Rex must've been called in as the sheriff's backup instead.
Since Who's There was the county seat, it only took me three minutes to drive to the sheriff's office. This time, police vehicles were outside, and the lights were on. I ran inside, breathless (because all I eat is junk food and I don't work out—something I always say I'm going to change).
Rex and Ed looked up at me from Ed's desk. Officer Dooley and the Chechens were nowhere to be found.
"What's happening?" I demanded as I plopped down in a chair opposite them.
"Merry," Rex started. "Soo Jin just called to say you'd called her."
"She told on me?" My eyebrows went up—into my hairline and over my head.
The sheriff held his hands up. "We told her not to tell you. You're involved with the deceased. I know you have been around pretty much every crime scene in town for the last several years, but this one is different."
My mind reeled. Rex gave me a look that said he was waiting for me to confess that Wally wasn't a relative, and I realized that at any minute now they would start questioning me about how long I'd been with Ivan and Ron.
If they knew what I knew, that those men had not killed Wally, then they'd arrest Hilly. And then they'd release Ron and Ivan, who would probably kill both Rex and Riley out of revenge.
"Um." I jumped to my feet. "I've got to go! Bye!"
I ran out the door before either man could stop me and ask a damning question. I was just driving away when I spotted Rex exiting the sheriff's office, looking for me. That was a close one.
Where was I going? I couldn't go home. Not until I figured out what to do—what I could say that would give this whole dumpster fire a positive (well, to me anyway) outcome.
Macho Man Murder Page 4