by Cassie Mae
“This is Detective Stacey. She’ll be investigating the deaths of my dear friend, Joshua, and my mentor and instructor, Edward. If anyone has any information that could help, please let her know.”
The tall and professional woman next to her stood and took the floor, and Maybelle started making faces behind the orange juice at Garreth. He snorted into his water, spraying Alexis who sat next to him. She gave him a dirty look as he awkwardly dried her off with a napkin, sputtering apologies while Maybelle cracked up. Alexis waved him off and went back to her arduous note-taking, undeterred from her research. Garreth turned back to Maybelle, red all along his neck, his face contorted in a hilarious and crazy handsome boy-in-trouble expression. If her legs had been longer and she wasn’t afraid of accidentally kicking someone, she’d instigate an innocent game of footsies.
The detective sat down and the servers came out with trays upon trays of breakfast choices. Will practically put his face into the biscuits and gravy, and Maybelle grinned at Winter’s equally enthusiastic dive into breakfast. She’d pointed out the night before that they were synchronized eaters—both unafraid of showing just how much they loved food.
Her brother did seem to be enjoying himself a bit more, which was a relief. Maybelle spotted him occasionally chatting with new people, slowly becoming, if not comfortable than at least tolerant of the Michigan weather and the spoils of the high life. He sure was getting attached to Winter…
A few seats down from Will’s trough was the hulking presence of the man Maybelle had stood up, and her heart sank a few inches, thudding thick as Michael avoided her eyes. Oh had she been on the other end of this, too many times. Her bottom wriggled in her seat as she fought the urge to walk to him, ask him for some privacy to explain herself, but not knowing him well enough kept her planted. Would he make a scene? Simply ignore her? If any of the men who had stood her up tried to speak with her the next morning she probably would’ve tried humiliating them to match the embarrassment she’d felt at sitting alone for hours on end.
How long had he waited on the third floor, watching the elevator? Had he been waiting at all? Was she worth that? Her past record made her think there was a good chance he wouldn’t give two licks if she’d shown or not. But his avid avoidance and frown told her differently.
She turned slowly back to her food, frowning at the strawberries and pineapple covering her plate.
A loud fake cough grabbed her attention. Garreth’s brow was deeply furrowed, his head tilted to the side. “You okay?” he mouthed.
A small smile touched her heart. “No bacon,” she mouthed back, feigning a reason for her blues. He put a playful hand to his chest, gasping. She giggled as he held a finger up and rose a couple of inches from his seat, scanning the table. His beautiful eyes lit up and he waved at a tray resting about two people away from Will.
“Excuse me, sugar,” Ms. Vancouver said, backing away from Garreth’s elbow. “Did you need something?”
Maybelle burst into a fit of laughter, Garreth’s signature blush rising up his neck as he stammered, “Uh… b-bacon,” and the large tray was passed his way. Her whole body was smiling now, and she mouthed, “My hero,” at him when he slid the bacon toward her. He grinned at his plate, in shock almost that he’d been so bold in a full room. Maybelle couldn’t think of a single thing that was more attractive.
A loud scrape vibrated the floor under her feet, and she watched Michael shove from his chair and take three long strides from the room. Her smile faded some, try as she might to keep it in place. After being stood up by Vince Cutherford at twenty-five, she’d seen him the next day with Nancy Voss, laughing and flirting, much like Garreth and her had just done. She still remembered the hole he’d shot through her, the ache in the emptiness and the feeling of rejection. She never would’ve stood long enough for an explanation, but an apology? If someone had only apologized, would that have been better?
She resolved for an apology, not only because she was deeply sorry, but because she wasn’t exactly sure she had an explanation.
“Michael?” Maybelle called out as soon as the dining hall door had shut behind her. She’d excused herself as politely as she could and tried not to rush from the room. Her eyes scanned the wide entryway full of hallways jutting from every direction, clinking from the kitchens filling the air. Her shoulders slumped when she found no sign of where he’d gone, and she set her hand on the door handle to head back in to breakfast.
“You got my key card?” Michael’s deep voice sent a wave of shock through her, which she awkwardly laughed away. He came out of the shadows, ducking under a sconce and making slow, concentrated moves toward her. She patted her chest, feeling around for the card she’d slipped inside her brazier.
“I’m so sorry, Michael,” she said. “I lost track ‘o time last night, and I…” She gulped, words escaping her. “I should’ve let ya know I wasn’t comin’.”
He lifted a nonchalant shoulder, taking the key card from her fingers. “Well, I did give you two choices, I guess. I didn’t realize solving the mystery was so important to you.”
His voice was teasing, but there was an underlying bitterness there that ate at her stomach.
She decided to play along. “Whole reason I’m here, ain’t it?”
He laughed, but it was hollow and unfeeling and had her reaching for his impressive arm.
“I really am sorry. I planned on headin’ upstairs as soon as I spied in the gardens a bit, but…”
As her voice drifted into oblivion, Michael smirked and finished for her. “Garreth?”
She nodded. “Garreth.”
His gaze fell to the dining hall doors, curiously studying them. “I get it,” he said after a minute. “Kind of stinks, but I get it.”
She wanted to scramble, wanted to tell him that she’d only known Garreth as long as she’d known him. A day was hardly enough time to decide if Garreth’s kiss was the beginning of something that could last or just another one for the books. She’d never had two viable choices pulling her attention two different directions. She was completely out of her element and didn’t want to make the wrong pick. If Eros was trying to create options for her, well, he’d overdone it.
Michael bent, his lips near her ear. She loved when men did that, swooned when she’d read it or watched in movies, and it seemed to be his signature move. Even with half her mind on Garreth, she couldn’t help but salivate at Michael’s body warmth.
“If you don’t mind, Maybelle,” he said, his voice silky smooth and going straight to her knees, “I’d like to keep my hat in the ring.”
Her brows rose, and her skin ran hot as he planted a chaste kiss to her cheek. He laughed at her expression, whatever that might’ve been, and then left her standing in a puddle of confusion.
Darn that Eros.
“What’s the point ‘o doing your hair before swimmin’?” Will asked just outside the open bathroom door. Maybelle twisted, curling iron poised in her red locks, smoking away.
“If you have to ask, you don’t understand me as well as I thought ya did.” She nodded to his overgrown whiskers, which had gotten out of control over the few days they’d spent in Frostville. “You ought to take a page from my book. You could use a bit of sprucing up.”
He grimaced, running a hand over his chin. “It’s not that bad.” Will’s beard was his comfort zone as much as Alabama was. Maybelle teased him about it, sayin’ she’s always surprised no one complains about hair in their pizza with that thing hanging off him. He trimmed it on occasion, mostly when he was tryin’ to impress a woman.
She released the iron from her hair, letting the warm curl spring around her face. “You’re coming down for the party, right?” she asked, not even attempting to hide the hopefulness in her voice. She needed her brother today; Garreth and Michael both in bathing suits would be enough to knock out the most sensible woman, let alone desperate ones like herself. She imagined a long afternoon fumbling over her words and toggling between her feelings.<
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“I dunno…” he said. Maybelle suppressed a laugh.
“Party pooper.”
Will wrinkled his nose. “It’s a pool party. Forgive me for not thinking to bring my bathing suit to a place called Frostville.”
“They provide the suits, Will.” Always an excuse for everything. “They got all kinds in the closet down the hall.”
“You been snooping around?”
Yes. “I’ve been reading the guest pamphlet.” She nodded to the door and grabbed another section of hair. “Go check it out. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of choices in your size.” Or she hoped they did. She didn’t want to do this alone. Will was there to referee after all, and she needed him to blow the whistle on one of those guys.
Rain fell hard just outside the millions of mansion windows, but none of the guests were concerned as they headed down the same hallway Maybelle had discovered on night one of her stay. The steam from the heated pool and hot tub fogged the glass encased room, but the rain outside streaked down the opposite side, making the atmosphere magical. Several guests had already wandered down, but no one was in the pool yet. Servers with trays upon trays of goodies wove their way through the guests, and a freshly trimmed Will spotted a certain bacon appetizer and took off. She shook her head at her brother’s back; so much for that.
She let out a breath and tightened her coverup, a little insecure about being in a suit in front of much more fit women and extremely fit men. Winter was a tiny thing, dipping her toes into the pool, the only person so far brave enough to actually take a swim.
“Hey there,” Garreth’s voice said from behind her. A grin grew on her face and she looked over her shoulder, happy to see those chocolate eyes and chin dimple. He offered her a flute of sparkling beverage with a decadent strawberry bobbing near the top. “I don’t know what this is,” he said, “but thought it might be the kind of drink you might like.”
She took it from his hand, their fingers grazing and tingling. “Why?” she probed. He raised a brow, like he hadn’t expected her to question it. He muttered a few intelligible words, scrambling for an answer.
“Uh… it’s… bubbly. R-reminded me of you, I guess.” He did that adorable expression of squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “Sorry.”
“For what?” she said with a wide smile. “Bubbly’s good.” She lifted on her tiptoes and pressed her forehead to his. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start dropping Lord of the Rings knowledge.”
He laughed, his breath fruity and sparkling, not unlike the drinks in their hands. She fell flat to her feet and linked her pinky with his. She led him to a couple of empty lounge chairs by the shallow end of the pool where Winter was now in waist deep. A nervous leap went through Maybelle when she spotted Michael perched on the edge, swinging his legs in the water, his muscular back mouthwatering and beautiful. He caught her eyes over his shoulder and winked.
Maybelle took a long swig from her sparkling drink, letting the bubbles fizz all around her body. They amazingly relaxed her enough to plop onto the padded lounger, Garreth taking the chair opposite her. She kicked her legs up and got comfortable, scanning Garreth up and down as he sat, elbows on knees, both hands holding the tiny, half full glass. He gave her a cute smile, his eyes saying much more than his words could. She liked that about him—how expressive he was. She doubted he’d ever gotten away with a lie in his life.
“Last night was fun,” she said, knowing him well enough now to understand that bringing up subjects of conversation wasn’t his forte. His eyes sparkled with gratitude and something else she couldn’t put her finger on.
“Oh yeah,” he said with a breathy laugh. “Been a while since I’ve had that kind of fun.”
“How long?” she asked with a tilt of her head and a sip of her drink. The skin poking above the collar of his white tee ran pink. She decided to help him out. “Goodness, I haven’t been kissed in… three years? Yeah… about three years.”
He let out a relieved breath. “That’s baffling, Maybelle.”
“What’s so baffling about that?”
“I’m as awkward as they come, and I couldn’t resist after twenty-four hours.”
She covered a laugh, her own blush creeping up her cheeks. Garreth’s eyes suddenly flashed panic.
“Oh geez, I hope it was okay.”
“More than okay. It was fun.”
He considered that for a moment. “Fun is good. I like that.” He blew out a breath and looked at his bare feet. “Two years for me.”
“Now that’s baffling.”
He smirked. “I don’t get out much.”
A huge splash speckled her feet, and she squeaked, pulling them back. Winter’s laughter echoed around the room, Michael, who was now in the pool, sending wave after wave at her. A weird mix of jealousy and memory curdled in her stomach as she watched them, wondering if that’s what they’d looked like on Monday night during their private water fight. She felt her lips pull down; what was it about Michael that felt so good? She definitely had something with Garreth. He was opening up much more to her, being a bit braver.
Michael didn’t need to find that boldness, however. He just had it, and he used it, and it took her breath away.
Winter swiveled in the pool, more and more guests joining in on the splash party. Garreth seemed perfectly content to sit with Maybelle on the sidelines, and while she was grateful for it, part of her wanted him to pull her over his shoulder and dive into the water. Have some fun. Take a chance.
Winter sent a soft wave up to the side of the pool, and Maybelle followed her gaze to her brother, who was still pigging out, shaking his head at Winter. Curiosity sparked in Maybelle as she watched them, Winter’s playfulness egging Will on, drawing him in like a bug to honey. She saw him lose the battle, tossing his garbage and taking a running leap into the pool. His cannon ball hit almost everyone in the pool. Winter wiped her face free and then put both arms up in victory.
“He has fun, people!”
Applause fell around the room, and Maybelle whooped just to see her brother blush, which he did, then he dunked Winter under the water. Smooth, William. Smooth.
A soft touch hit her wrist, pulling her attention away. Concern laced Garreth’s eyes as he smoothed over the long scar that she’d covered with a watch or bracelet on most occasions.
“What’s this?” he asked, his touch leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Oh, that happened about a month ago,” she said. “Thought I’d help Will during the dinner rush and scorched my wrist on the pizza oven.”
He made a hissing sound. “Youch.”
“It’s one of the many reasons I’m banned from using an oven.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Just last week I tried making lasagna. A simple one—like one you get premade in a box. All I had to do was put it in the oven, or so I thought. I guess it was supposed to go on a pan or something?”
“Oh no.”
“Yeah… I’m still scraping sauce and cheese out of there.”
She laughed and they shared a few more of their cooking mishaps, trying to one up each other. Garreth slowly grew more and more relaxed, and when they were interrupted, he was laid back on the lounge chair, one arm tucked under his head, his other toying with the waistband of his red and black suit. He was wearing them on backward, and she’d teased him about it for a good few minutes.
“Hey Garreth,” Alexis said, standing right between them. Maybelle made a face and looked at the ceiling instead of at Alexis’ rear-end. “I talked with the detective today,” she said, her voice rushed and excited. “I’m so close to guessing it, I know it. Did you get anything at all when you talked to James and Velvet?”
Maybelle desperately tried to rid herself of irritation at the interruption, counting the glass panels on the ceiling. Garreth cleared his throat and she heard him shift on the lounge chair.
“Sorry, Lex. I… haven’t had the chance.”
“What? You not interested in the myst
ery anymore?”
There was a beat. “Something else has caught my attention.”
Alexis spun around, giving Maybelle a look of death. Maybelle jerked back, surprised she hadn’t burst into flames. Alexis left with a huff, her pen furiously writing across her notepad. Maybelle pushed on her seat, righting herself and catching her breath.
“Sorry,” Garreth said, a frown on his handsome lips.
“That’s okay,” she said, letting out a breathy laugh. “I’d be ridiculous to believe I’m the only one vying for your attention.”
His ears reddened. “N-no… it isn’t like… She just wants to solve this thing before me, I think.”
“You think she will?”
He gave her a sly grin. “Uh, no.” His voice dropped. “I’m pretty sure I know who done it.”
“Ooh! Tell me.”
He laughed, putting a finger to his lips. Ah, yes, of course. She needed to learn how to whisper.
“You sure you want to know?” he asked. “I’d hate to spoil it.”
“Confession,” she said, holding up a finger. “The only reason I was into the mystery solving was because of you.”
He pressed his lips together, his chin dimple popping. “In that case…” His shoulders tensed, and she wondered if he was holding his breath. His eyes fell to her lips, and he reached up, tapping a gentle finger to her jaw. He coaxed her to look at the pool as the splash party calmed and most of the guests were swimming and chatting.
Perched on the edge, sitting awfully close to her brother, sat Winter. The smiles on their faces were like from a romantic movie.
“There’s our murderer,” Garreth whispered in her ear. She slowly tore her eyes from the pair and looked into his.
“You think it’s Winter?”
He smiled, dropping his hand. “Makes sense, don’t you think? The perfect misdirect.”
Admiration pumped through her, just when she thought he couldn’t get more attractive. “Color me impressed.”