The Deadly Daiquiri

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The Deadly Daiquiri Page 11

by Tegan Maher


  First, punishments on our side of things were no joke. They weren't intended to rehabilitate the criminal, so there was no mollycoddling. If you stole something, there was a real possibility you could lose a finger for the second offense. First offenses, if they were minor, were often given special consideration depending on the circumstances, but repeat offenders didn't get off with just a slap on the wrist, unless it was with a cat-o-nine.

  Next, if you committed a crime and were busted by the human police, you ran the risk of outing the magical world, or at the very least finding yourself unable to use your powers while you were locked up. Magical punishment for doing so was uber bad.

  You know those cases of when people just die in their cells but there's no apparent cause? There's a cause.

  Anyway, all of that was exactly what I was trying to avoid thinking about, so I trotted down to the water bar to check on a group of merfolks and sirens Dax and Amber had brought to celebrate a two-hundredth wedding anniversary. Those were always fun because there were no fines for drunk driving and they couldn't drown. Since they were strictly off-limits to sharks and other predators, there was no real reason for them to hold back.

  The only downside was that it wasn't unusual to be tipped in treasure rather than cash. Sometimes it was an old spoon that had a fancy design—merpeople were attracted to shiny things, and if they weren't familiar with land-dwelling currency, what was extremely valuable to them would end up a re-gift to another water dweller later.

  However, there are many shiny things that do have value in the sea. I received three gold coins once that, thanks to time and wear, were just discs of gold. Those netted me a couple killer pairs of boots and were a nice addition to my nest egg, too.

  "Hey, Des!" Dax called. "Any updates? We haven't been up to the pool yet."

  "Meh," I said, unwilling to rain on their parade. "It's not going as well as I'd hoped, but I have faith things will shake out the way they're supposed to."

  "Atta girl," Amber said. "No need to borrow trouble. You're a good egg. They'll do the right thing." She gave me a conspiratorial glance and waggled her eyebrows. "Not that we were being nosy or anything, but we couldn't help but notice that a certain werewolf couldn't take his eyes off of you yesterday."

  "Yeah," Roxi, the one celebrating her bicentennial anniversary, said, "and rumor has it, there was almost some lip-locking going on after you pulled your boards out of the water."

  I shook my head. The worst thing about the resort is that just because you thought you were alone didn't mean you were.

  Elves and faeries would wander in the custom-built rain forests to commune, and water folks lived for a good love story. Or any story for that matter. They were a gossipy bunch and had a better information dissemination tree than my grandmother's beauty salon did. That was saying something.

  Smiling slyly, Dax said, "Ooh, is there finally another love interest we need to know about?"

  The sirens were smiling, too, though they were a little scary because of all the sharp, pointy teeth.

  Sylvia, one of the youngest in the group, gave me a toothy grin. "You'll have to bring him swimming so we can get a close-up."

  Even though I knew the girls were harmless—at least to me—a little shiver still ran down my spine just thinking about them swimming underneath me. Of course, they were better than dolphins when it came to keeping sharks at bay, so at least I had that thought to comfort me.

  I smiled back. "I'll be sure to do that. Though we're just getting to know each other. There's no love in the air just yet."

  I shook my head. There it was again, and it wasn't even spring. Of course, we did live in the land of eternal paradise, so I guess that contributed to the warm-and-fuzzies, especially when you threw in a couple of Bob's margaritas or Dimitri's Mai Tais.

  I don't know what he added to those, but I suspected it was a faerie thing rather than just supplies that were readily available behind the bar. Speaking of, that's what Steph was drinking, and she was probably ready for another.

  There were a few empty cups that had blown out of the trash, and I couldn't help but think about the crappy exchange I'd had with Cass the morning he'd died. He was an ass, but as much as I'd disliked him, I hadn't meant it when I'd wished him dead.

  Off the coast and away from me forever? Absolutely. But not dead. I wondered what had happened to his soul. I mean, nobody really knows what happens when you die. Even folks who come back as ghosts don't get a glimpse of the other side. Some report seeing a bright light, while some just say they woke up dead.

  We had a crew of ghosts that lived in Georgia who liked to come to the resort to vacation. We had a post-living bartender named Jeff we called in when they were on-property. I wasn't exactly sure how it worked, because ghosts typically couldn't eat or drink, but he'd keeled over in his own bar and somehow managed to bring his booze and mixers with him to the other side.

  Needless to say, he was a huge draw once word made it through the living-impaired community. Blake had been searching for a chef that had died under similar circumstances. If he could find one, we'd have the whole ghostly resort market locked down. We wouldn't make money off them, but they'd bring their living friends and family, who had real cash to spend.

  Anyway, the point is that none of them knew how they'd ended up ghosts or what was on the other side.

  Wherever Cass was, I hoped he was happier there than he had been with us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SCOOPING UP THE CUPS that had brought on the ghostly rabbit trail, I shoved them into the trash and headed to the pool to check on Steph and Lila. Both were ready for a refill, and Lila's mood had improved considerably.

  Thank goodness she was a happy drunk. I'd had a group of harpies in a few weeks before, on vacation after the death of a loved one. Lemme tell you—those gals gave new meaning to the term ugly crying. It wasn't a situation I was eager to repeat anytime soon.

  A vampire family had joined the mix and asked me about renting a cabana. Even though the resort was spelled to allow them to enjoy the sunshine, they were prone to sunburn just because they were so white. I took their drink orders and told them to take their pick of cabanas. They were the first people of the day to ask for one.

  I slapped my tray up on the bar and gave Dimitri my order. While I was waiting, my phone rang; it was Michael.

  "Des, I just heard they sent Nightingale after you. Where are you? I assume since you answered your phone that Blake has a resort rep dealing with them? Nightingale's a jerk with Napoleon Syndrome, though—"

  "Michael!" I barked, stopping his doom-and-gloom chattering. "Colin was here when Nightingale tried to arrest me. He made a single phone call, and all of a sudden I was placed under house arrest rather than being hauled off to jail."

  "Who did he call?" Suspicion laced his tone, just as it had mine when I'd asked.

  "I don't know. He wouldn't say, and even though Tempest overheard the conversation, he didn't say anything other than I was being arrested and why. Less than a minute later, the agent's phone rang and I was wearing a golden anklet."

  "Speaking of that, do not leave the boundaries. It would be ... unpleasant," he said.

  "Yeah, I kinda figured that when they made me sign that my relatives would be responsible for replacement of the device if I were to breach the terms of the house arrest."

  "So what do they have on you that made them arrest you?" he asked.

  "I must have gotten death essence on my apron when I was cleaning up the mess," I said. "I guess they found it when they searched my house yesterday."

  "That's not good," he said. "Good thing for the resort, it's only toxic to angels. If they'd followed protocol, a hazmat team would have come in to clean it up."

  "Nobody wishes that would have been the way it went down more than I do," I said, my tone wry as I placed the drinks Dimitri'd lined up in front of me on the tray. "But woulda, coulda, shoulda."

  My neck was cramping from holding my phone between my
ear and shoulder. "Listen, Michael, I'm working and need to go. Is there anything else I should be doing?"

  "As bad as I hate to say it, do what Colin says. If he took you on, he did it for a reason."

  "Okay," I said. “Keep in touch if you find anything out."

  I disconnected and scooped up the drink tray, already way beyond over the whole situation. I hated feeling helpless, but this was way outside my wheelhouse. For better or worse, I was gonna have to do exactly what Michael said—trust Colin to have my back. I just prayed he didn't do it to make me a sitting duck rather than a free bird.

  After settling the vampires into their cabana and putting in their lunch orders, I decided to join Steph and Lila back by the pool. Steph was regaling her with the details of one of her recent battles with great flourish, her face flushed with memories of glorious beheadings and perfect, mid-air heart shots.

  Lila, on the other hand, was trying to smile and be supportive, but she was a little green around the gills.

  I smiled and brought them a cracker tray, figuring if it worked for nauseated pregnant women and people with the flu, it might help somebody with vivid descriptions of death and destruction floating through her head. She gave me a wobbly smile and nibbled on one, her Bloody Mary forgotten in favor of the Sprite I'd brought.

  Steph was amazing, but I was glad she usually came alone. The last time she'd brought friends, the place had turned from peaceful seaside resort to something that resembled a Civil War reenactment zone, except the war whoops were louder. I'd had to put a sound-dampening spell around the pool area because people were complaining and canceling food orders.

  We'd just made it through the lunch rush when Michael called again.

  "Hey, that was quick," I said when I answered.

  "Well, I figure we don't have much time. I have to solve an angel murder in less time that it usually takes me to catch somebody selling war charms or military-grade armor."

  That sounded like something that would take months, and the fact that he was implying it only took a week for him to catch somebody doing that made me rethink talking to the strange but nice guy in line behind me at the coffee shop.

  "So what did you learn? Have you figured out who Colin talked to? Because if so, I owe them a huge thanks." I crinkled my brow, thinking about other reasons somebody may have for keeping me locked to the resort. "Or at least I think I do."

  "No,” he said. “No luck there yet, but I have even better news. I've managed to track down the gargoyles Cass hung out with. And boy, do they have a story to tell."

  Steph waved me over, and I cringed when I saw why. Poor Lila was experiencing round two of her Bloody Marys—and not in a good way. I held up a finger, then went to grab a wet towel and some ice. People didn't realize that heat accelerated the effects of alcohol, especially for folks who weren't used to drinking.

  "So don't keep me waiting!" I said, getting irritated from the combination of his procrastination and Lila's heaving. When it came to somebody being sick, I took myself out of the equation as soon as I got them out of any area I was responsible for cleaning up.

  Steph gave me an apologetic smile when I handed her the cool rag and bucket of ice. I winked at her in thanks as I turned back around and took my phone from between my cheek and shoulder. I hated being on the phone while I was dealing directly with a guest, but not nearly as bad as I hated the idea of dying a painful death before the week was out.

  "Okay, here's the thing,” Michael said. “The gargoyle said he got the death essence—we're still trying to get him to tell us from where—for Cass. But when he went to hand it to him under the table, it was gone from his pocket. Apparently, Cass was going to take out another angel in order to get back into the flock, and he was pissed."

  "That's really the name for a group of angels?" I asked.

  "Focus, Des," he said, exasperated. "Whatever they call themselves, he thought he'd figured out a way to get back in, and that meant killing another angel."

  "That sounds like a horrible plan," I said, then remembered who I was talking about.

  "It was, but at least we know now who brought the essence, who wanted it, what it was going to be used for, and that it disappeared sometime between when they got to the tiki and when he reached into his pocket at the table."

  "Yeah," I said with a big sigh. "Now we just need to figure out how it ended up in Cass's drink."

  "Yeah, I haven't really worked my way around to that part yet," he said.

  "I'd appreciate it if you would," I replied. "I don't have time to be executed next week. I have a nail appointment."

  "You know, lots of women have their nails done post-mortem, so you really don't need to cancel the appointment," he said.

  "Thanks for the confidence boost, bro."

  "Anytime, little sister. And Des?"

  "Yeah?"

  "I love you, and I'm doing everything I can, okay?"

  My throat tightened. "Okay," I croaked. Considering the source, those two phrases together both terrified me and comforted me at the same time. "I love you, too."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  I FIGURED I'D BETTER call Colin and bring him up to speed. I was glad when he picked up after a couple rings, because after the exchange with Michael, I felt the noose tightening and hoped the feeling stayed proverbial rather than literal.

  "I'll call you right back," he said after I explained what Michael had learned, then hung up before I could say anything else. What was it with people just hitting the end button without so much as a bye?

  The vampire family’s food was up, and I did something I never did—I snapped my fingers and magicked it down to them, along with fresh drinks. I'd go check on them in a couple minutes, but I needed time to process the new info first.

  Dimitri was standing directly across the bar from me, gazing at me with sympathy. "I can't believe they're trying to put this off on you,” he said. "Of all the people on this resort that I'd peg as a murderer, you'd be last on the list."

  "Yeah," I sighed. "I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. If I hadn't wished him dead, this wouldn't be happening."

  "You don't know that," he said, reaching across to pat my hand. "Tell me what's going on, and I'll help you think. I can tell from the look on your face you're trying to puzzle it out, so two heads are better than one." He gave his head a shake. "Especially when one of them has hair this fabulous."

  I smiled at his attempt to cheer me up, then relayed the story for the second time. My brain still wasn't collating the info, and I felt like there were still huge chunks of the puzzle missing.

  "Well, that's easy, then," he said, looking at me as if I were five and having problems with a math problem.

  I raised a brow. "Really, then. Please, do tell."

  "It was the hookers. Or at least one of them. It couldn't have been anybody else."

  Thinking back, he had a point. All three of them had been sitting in a lap, and I'd sort of felt the need to call for a hand check, though I was afraid of what they might have pulled up along with their hands if I did.

  "You're right," I said. “It would have been cake for one of them to pick the gargoyle's pocket. I don't know how easy it would have been for her to get it into his drink, though."

  Dimitri reached below the bar, and in less than a blink of an eye, there was a wedge of lime on the bar in front of me. He'd been so fast that, to my eye, it hadn't been there one second but was the next. I barely saw his hand move.

  "Don't forget, sweetie. The hand is often faster than the eye."

  I glanced down again, and the lime was gone.

  "I wish I'd been here that day," he said. "I've worked in some shady places in my time, and maybe I'd recognize them."

  I perked up. "I have video actually, or I can get one in a heartbeat."

  Pulling my phone from my pocket, I texted Michael and asked him to send me the security video Blake had sent him the day we'd been in Abbadon's Gate.

  While we waited, he poured me a
lime water and I took a gulp of it.

  My phone dinged with an incoming text less than a minute later. I pulled up the video and handed him my phone.

  He squinted at it, trying to make out the faces.

  "I know these three," he said, "but there's a problem."

  He turned the phone so I could see it and pointed at the one sitting on Cass's lap. "This one here, Ronni, married a vampire. He just turned her like a month ago. I know because she was actually a sweetheart who life had kicked around. I was happy for her when she met her husband and left the life, pardon the pun."

  My mind flashed back to the second the girl's glamour had slipped. I'd thought she was just trying to make herself look better, but she'd made herself look like somebody else altogether.

  "She wore a glamour," I said.

  "Did you get a look at her underneath?" he asked, sliding a coaster under my water.

  "Not really," I said. "It only slipped for a second. I saw brunette hair, but that's it."

  "Then it seems we're one step closer to figuring it out, except there are about a hundred different species that can pull off a glamour."

  "Yeah, but we have to figure it was at least humanoid, because he was actually touching her. She had to feel right, or he would have picked up on it."

  He sighed. "It probably helped her cause that he was likely either already drinking or still half-drunk from the night before."

  "A little bit of both, as usual," I said.

  I picked up my tray and went to check on Steph and Lila. Dax and crew had moved from the water bar to the pool and asked for another round. I'd no sooner delivered them than Colin waved to me from the end of the bar. Once he had my attention, he motioned me over to a table.

  Somebody else was sitting there, her face covered by her hair, tapping away on her phone.

  When she looked up, I didn't know whether to run or sling a spell at her.

 

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