Macho Man Murder

by Leslie Langtry

  Once she was gone, I went inside my old house and called out for Hilly. When she didn't answer, I checked the guest bedroom, which was the nicest room in the house. A while back, I'd shot up the original room looking for an intruder. Kelly and I had dropped a fortune on new furniture, and the room had a complete, matching set of everything.

  The bed had been slept in, but there was no suitcase. Checking the small, attached bathroom, I didn't see any toiletries either. She must have bailed. I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge.

  It was full of food that I hadn't bought. Fruit, veggies, wine, smoothies, lunchmeat, cheese… It was like a dream fridge. What I'd shop for if I were good at that sort of thing. Hilly wouldn't have just bought all of this food and then split.

  Or maybe she would. Was she sleeping and eating here? Then where were her clothes? I turned my little ranch house upside down looking for any other traces of her existence. What was she doing?

  And I was no closer to catching Wally's killer. It had to be Hilly, Riley, or my very favorite suspect, Bitsy. Hilly and Riley insisted they were innocent. But Hilly was missing, and Bitsy had run away. Only Riley was going to talk to Rex.

  Tomorrow, Ron and Ivan would be released. Which meant another problem. Would whoever killed Wally try to kill them too? What would I do if I were the killer? I'd probably shoot one and make it look like they'd shot each other.

  And if I'd thought of doing that then the killer probably would too. I had to solve this case before that happened. Rex was talking to Riley, who would give him the whole coincidental drinking at the Cornhole story.

  I needed to find Hilly and Bitsy. And I needed to do it tonight.

  Too bad I didn't still have Cookie. It would've been cool to ride him through town searching for bad guys. But then again, considering he took off with me on him, maybe that was a good thing. So for now, it had to be the silver minivan.

  I went to the Radisson. There were only two hotels in town. The really nice Radisson and a dump on the outskirts of town, where you only stayed if you didn't value your life. Bitsy and Hilly were CIA. While they could handle the terrible motel, it was more likely they'd stay at the Radisson.

  "Can I help you?" A middle-aged man met me at the front desk. He was short with red, curly hair, and he reminded me of someone. And it gave me an opportunity to ingratiate myself.

  "Yes," I said nicely. "But before I ask, do you have any teenage kids?"

  The man smiled. "Why, yes, I do! My son, Stewie, is a junior in high school."

  I knew it! "You're Stewie's dad?"

  "Do you know him?" He seemed pleased, not embarrassed. Which determined how I'd say what I'd say next.

  "I do!" I gushed. "My name is Merry Ferguson. He probably knows me by my maiden name, Wrath. And I…"

  "You're the Bird Goddess!" Stewie's dad grabbed my hand and shook it. "I'm Stuart! I've heard so much about you!"

  He was smiling as if it was all good. I ran with it.

  "Oh, you can call me Merry." I waved him off. "Stewie is a great kid! You must be so proud!" I prayed that he wouldn't ask for an explanation because I didn't really have any.

  Stuart beamed. "Thank you! He's very special!"

  You have no idea, I thought to myself.

  "Kids today are so interesting, don't you think?" the man continued. "When Stewie said he was starting a druid cult to do some psychological research on how teens react to society, I was blown away!" Stuart covered his mouth as if he'd just said something he shouldn't have. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't supposed to say that! Please forget I said anything!"

  I smiled warmly. "Of course. I knew there was more to him than just Odious the Demigod. What a clever kid!" And what a blind dad not to see through that.

  Stuart sighed with relief. "Well, I'm glad you see through the bluster. I'm sure he'll be a great psychologist someday!"

  Yeah. About that. I was pretty sure the only one having his head shrunk was Stuart. I was certain that Stewie was actually one hundred percent a wannabee druid. But I didn't tell him that.

  "It's nice to meet you at last, Mrs. Ferguson. How can I help you?"

  The man had been buttered up, felt bad for leaking intel, and was very nice. I could use that.

  "It's rather embarrassing, I'm afraid. I have two friends in town, and I think they are staying here."

  "They must be if they are friends of yours! I can't imagine them in that no-tell motel outside of town."

  "Yes, well, I need to make sure. I'm supposed to pick them up later for dinner. I didn't ask, I just assumed. But we have reservations, so I can't mess around with time. Can you look them up for me? They're not answering my text messages."

  For a moment, I thought I was busted. Stuart looked around the empty lobby before leaning toward me. "We aren't supposed to do things like that. But since you're a friend of my boy, I suppose I could make an exception if you don't tell anyone."

  "Of course I won't!" I gushed. "Thanks again! I really do appreciate it!"

  "Do you know if they are sharing a room?" Stuart asked.

  "I doubt it. They're both pretty introverted." I wondered what Hilly would think of me saying that about her. "Can you look up Hilly Vinton first?"

  Stuart typed away on a computer. He frowned. "We don't have anyone with that name. How about your other friend's name?"

  "Okay, it's Bitsy…"

  Oh crap. I didn't know Bitsy's last name! How could I have been so stupid? Now what should I do? And what if Bitsy was just a nickname and she travelled under another name? I'd just have to tell him not to bother and walk away.

  "Oh! Bitsy Belden! I've talked to her a couple of times!" Stuart said. "She was just here, in fact. Nice lady. Very pretty."

  Okay…

  "Great! What room is she in? I'll bet she and Hilly did decide to share a room after all."

  Stuart's face fell. "Oh, I can't give you that information. You said you just needed to find out if they were here so you could pick them up."

  Damn. I'd overplayed my hand.

  "That's okay. I don't even know why I asked, really. Well, I'm off! Maybe I'll see you later," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

  "I won't be here. My shift ends in a few hours. But have a lovely time!" Stuart waved.

  I had no choice but to leave. Once in my van, I went over my options. I could stake the place out and see if I could run her over when she showed up. That might take a long time, however, and there was another exit around the back. I could miss her entirely.

  On the other hand, if I could get a look at that computer…

  I took out my cell, looked up a number, and dialed.

  "Who's There Radisson!" Stuart answered cheerily. "How can I help you?"

  "Yes," I said, disguising my voice with a masculine tone. "I'm in room…" I counted the floors and made a guestimate as to which room would be farthest from the elevator. "I'm in room 720. I'm really not feeling well. Could you bring me some aspirin? You can let yourself in."

  "Certainly, sir!" came the happy reply. "I'll send housekeeping up…"

  "No!" I shouted gruffly. "I mean, could you do it yourself? I'm very shy around women and don't want anyone to see me like this."

  "Of course. I'll be very discreet."

  I hung up and slid up to the lobby. I got lucky in that there was a room 720. The key is to not go too high. Most hotels will have at least 20 rooms on a floor.

  Stuart walked over to the mini mart wall where guests could purchase whatever they'd forgotten, including toothbrushes, shampoo, whatever. He took something down that I assumed was aspirin and disappeared toward the elevators.

  I ran on the balls of my feet, trying to avoid any sound. I heard the elevator doors close and swung up and over the counter.

  The computer screen showed Bitsy Beldon's information. Room 719. That was lucky. Stuart hadn't closed out of that screen yet. I was just about to launch myself over the counter when a woman and a boy, who appeared to be fourteen or fifteen, materialized in f
ront of me.

  "Excuse me," the woman said. "I was wondering if you could help me?" Her expression gave her the look of one smelling something bad. The kid looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here.

  I looked around. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just about to run some aspirin upstairs to a sick guest. I'll send our desk manager"—I had no idea if that was a thing or if Stuart was it, but it sounded good—"to help you. It'll only be a moment."

  The woman narrowed her eyes. "I don't want to wait for the desk manager. I want you to help me right now."

  "Of course, ma'am. But the man upstairs is very ill and is my first priority. If you could just…"

  She slapped her hand on the counter. "If all he needs is aspirin, then he can wait! I need your assistance right now!"

  I could see I wasn't getting any further. At any moment, Stuart would be down here and see me behind the counter, with Bitsy's information on the screen in front of me.

  "Hold on," I said quickly. "I'll come out from behind the counter."

  I punched a few keys that luckily took me to the main screen and then was confronted with how to get out from behind the counter. The only way seemed to be through an office that was facing the elevators.

  I'd been in much worse situations. Many of them facing down people who were armed when I wasn't. But none of them were in my hometown. And none of them had me running the risk of dealing with the father of my cult's demigod.

  I held up a finger and walked through the office. As I opened the door, the elevator doors opened. I just managed to duck behind a desk before I heard Stuart's footsteps echoing in the hall. They walked past the desk and toward the counter, where I'd left the very angry woman.

  "Where's that idiot who was helping me?" she snapped before Stuart could say anything.

  I heard Stuart say, "I'm sorry. There's no one else here."

  Rage filled every syllable. "She was helping me!"

  Stuart, like most hospitality professionals, took it in stride. "Well, I am here now, madam. How can I be of assistance?"

  I looked up at the stash of supplies for the little mini mart and smiled. Grabbing a few things, I slipped out the door and around the counter.

  "Here you are, ma'am!" I said as I handed her three boxes of XXL condoms. She turned as red as Satan's parlor while her son's eyes grew wide. He looked like he was on the verge of vomiting.

  I turned to Stewie's dad. "Sorry, Stuart. I came back in because I'd dropped my keys, and she looked like she needed help. I hope you don't mind."

  Stuart looked thankful. "Not at all, Mrs. Ferguson. I had to step away to help a guest. Very kind of you." I wondered if there really had been a sick man in 720.

  The woman started hyperventilating as I walked away. I was just about out the door when I heard Stuart say, "That will be $50. Should I just add it to your bill?"

  There was some small satisfaction in that.

  Just as I made it back to the van, Rex texted that he was on his way to his sisters', and I had at least an hour before Stuart went off shift. I wasn't going to put him through anything else tonight. I checked my old house once more to see if Hilly had returned (she hadn't) before going inside the house I shared with Rex, where I pulled a frozen lasagna from the freezer and popped it into the oven.

  I don't do a lot of cooking. Rex does most of it. But when I do, it's got to be something convenient. Besides, I liked lasagna. While it cooked and I was waiting for Rex, I opened my laptop and ran a search on Bitsy Belden.

  Nothing came up other than a Facebook page set to private and a few mentions of a Bitsy Belden who attended a reunion at the University of Virginia. Like most CIA employees, she didn't have much of a presence online. This was expected. But I needed more information.

  I made a phone call.

  "Ahmed!" I said sweetly. "It's Merry! But you probably already know that since you have me on speed dial."

  "Is it cookie time again?" the man on the other end asked hopefully.

  Ahmed still worked at the Agency and, from time to time, managed to do me a small favor or two. He was one of my biggest scout cookie buyers, with a vast appetite for the peanut butter sandwich cookies, which made him very easy to buy off. He usually balked at my requests for favors, but when cookies were the lure, he did them anyway.

  I tried to sound sad. "It is not. It won't be until next January."

  I heard a squeak on the other end of the line. I smiled. I had him right where I wanted him.

  "But I have a case of your cookies in the basement. You just have to do me a tiny favor, and they're all yours."

  I really did have cookies in the basement. Two cases, but Ahmed didn't need to know about that.

  "What do you want?" His voice was laced with suspicion.

  "Do you know Bitsy Belden?" I asked.

  "No," came the sullen reply.

  "She's a field agent, and I want to know more about her." It was best to keep things simple with Ahmed. Too much information was known to confuse him.

  "No! I can't do it! Not again!" he hissed into the phone.

  I expected this. It happened every time.

  I begged. "It's just a little information."

  He protested. "No, it's not. It's never just a little information with you! You got me in trouble the last time when you had me looking up Hilly for you! The human resources dominatrix stalked me for days, and I almost got shot while disguised as a woman!"

  It took everything I had in me not to laugh. And we really did have dominatrices in HR. I guess when you work in administration for the CIA, you need a hobby that will scare the bejeezus out of staff members.

  "This is nothing," I soothed. "Just a little info. That's all. I promise."

  My fingers were crossed behind my back, but other than that, I was sincere.

  "No. It's not worth it. Not for a case of cookies." He started whispering. "They said they wanted to teach me a lesson in HR! Something about spanking me with a baseball glove!"

  Time to up the ante. "How about two cases?"

  The other end went silent. I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. One case was good. But two? Unheard of. It was the biggest bribe I'd offered to date. Well, except for the time in Botswana when I got information for two goats named Flavia and Gladys and a football signed by Riley that I had insisted was signed by Joe Montana.

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Is she still working there?" I spelled out her name so that he wouldn't screw it up.

  I heard keys clicking.

  "She's not listed as being in the field," he practically whispered. "In fact, they're looking for her." He cursed quietly. "I knew it! I knew you'd get me in trouble again. The tall dom said she couldn't wait to break my bones!"

  Now that was interesting. Not the threat from HR. The intel. "Why? What did she do?"

  There were a few seconds of silence where I thought I'd lost him. Then he answered. "She's suspected of killing two people she was undercover with in Greece."

  "Is she now?" My spy-dy senses went off. "That's very good. Do you know the circumstances?"

  "I've got to go, but I'll try to email them to you. Send the cookies tomorrow." And then Ahmed hung up.

  "Hey, babe!" Rex walked in the door and was mobbed by Leonard and Philby.

  Where had they been? Usually they were all over me when I got home. In my tunnel vision concerning Bitsy, I had forgotten all about them.

  "Is that lasagna?" Rex sniffed the air before kissing my forehead. "Let me go change."

  He went upstairs, and I checked my email. Nothing yet. But that was interesting intel. Very damaging news for Bitsy. It never had made sense that she was in town. Even her thin motive of sleeping with Riley seemed too weak to be true.

  But now that she's killed before, well, that was motive! And this juicy intel only cost me two cases of cookies. Which meant if I needed anything between now and January, I was out of luck. However, putting Bitsy away would be worth it.

  Rex started back dow
n the stairs in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. One more glance at my email told me word from Ahmed hadn't come in yet, so I closed the laptop. He'd come through, or I wouldn't send the cookies.

  In the kitchen, Rex began making garlic bread as I wrapped my arms around him.

  "How did it go with Riley? What did he say?"

  Rex shrugged, and I released him. "He said he was drinking at the Cornhole. That he was following some guy he was investigating."

  I sat in a chair. "Do you believe him?"

  "I don't know," my husband hedged. "The Cornhole really isn't Riley's kind of bar. I was surprised he wasn't attacked, but then he told me he'd bought a few rounds for everyone, so maybe that's why he got out unscathed."

  "Did he tell you he told Soo Jin that he was on a case that might be linked? Did he tell you he'd been at the crime scene?"

  Rex laughed. "Yes. But I knew that already. Soo Jin told me."

  "What do you think?"

  "It's hard to believe that Riley would take a risk by killing Wally. But I couldn't help but think he's involved somehow. Maybe it's whatever case he's working on." He tapped his chin. "There could be a link there."

  "I can't find Hilly anywhere. She's stocked my fridge, but none of her stuff is there."

  "And Bitsy?" Rex asked. "Did you find out about her? Riley said she just dropped by unannounced."

  "Yeah. Did he tell you she was sleeping with him?"

  Rex smiled. "I assumed that. Any idea where I can find Bitsy?"

  I knew exactly where she was. The problem being did I tell Rex about the hotel and what Ahmed had said? I couldn't lie to him on two fronts. I picked the most damning information.

  "I talked to a contact at the CIA," I blurted out. "They're looking for her. Apparently, she killed two people she'd been embedded with in Greece."

  Rex nodded. "That would make her a strong suspect. But why would she go around killing people?"

  I shrugged. "No idea. I've never felt I had to do that."

  "In a way, you have," Rex said. "Carlos the Armadillo, Midori Ito, all have turned up dead here."