The Root of All Trouble (2 page)

"
And their crew?" The ragtag group had been on the job since the beginning.

"
They're just following orders." He shrugged.

I waited for him to realize this
"method" wasn't normal, but he said nothing. Instead, he stared sullenly out the window. His mood was starting to get to me.

Fortunately, I had to tolerate only a few minutes more of Jean-Claude
's poutiness before I could be rid of him, leaving him in the care of his
capable
cousins. I had big plans for the next hour or so that involved a flashlight, a roll of cookie dough, a storm radio, and an interior closet.

Cars and construction trucks lined the road as I neared Mario and Perry
's house to drop off Jean-Claude. I pulled into the driveway and parked behind a big Dumpster. A bolt of lightning flashed and thunder quickly followed.

"
What's going on there?" Jean-Claude asked.

A crowd had gathered in the back yard, getting soaked to the bone.
"Looks like that ash tree finally came down." I'd been worried about that tree and warned Perry that it should be cut down before it fell down and possibly hurt someone or something, but he liked its height and the shade offered from its uppermost canopy.

No one listened to me anymore.

Luckily, the tree hadn't fallen on the house. It looked to have hit the ground and split in half, revealing its rotten innards. There was quite the gathering around its base. Delphine, Plum and their crew were there, along with Perry, my neighbor Mr. Cabrera, and several other neighbors as well.

All but Delphine were getting soaked (she had an umbrella), and didn
't seem to have a care in the world about the weather.

Perry glanced over his shoulder, saw my truck idling, and waved for me to come over.

He was a hairdresser by trade, and I had to wonder if he'd sniffed too many chemicals. He'd clearly lost his mind if he thought I was going out there with all that lightning.

I shook my head.

He waved again, more insistently. Mr. Cabrera joined in.

"
You better go," Jean-Claude urged.

He was a fine one to volunteer me.
"How about you go?"

"
No way. Do you know what that rain will do to my hair?"

I grit
ted my teeth and threw the truck into park. Wishing I had a sweatshirt, I gave an oblivious Jean-Claude the Ceceri Evil Eye and hopped out into the rain.

Water dripped down my face as I sprinted toward Perry.

Above the wailing wind, I picked up another sound. At first I thought it was the tornado siren, but no...it was a regular siren and growing closer.

I glanced over my shoulder as a police car pulled up to the curb. Jean-Claude slunk in his seat, and I had to wonder if it was just a natural instinct on his part or if he
'd gotten himself into trouble lately.

Perry reached out and grabbed my arm.
"What kind of neighborhood is this?"

Now
he was asking that question? The murders here hadn't tipped him off earlier?

"
What's going on?" I asked, fearing the tree had fallen on someone.

"
Take a look, Miz Quinn." Mr. Cabrera's eyes were alight with excitement. There was nothing he liked more than a little hubbub in the neighborhood.

Leaning around him, I blinked at the sight before me
—the sight that had captured everyone's attention. The broken tree had revealed something else besides its rotten core.

I moved in for a closer look at the upper half of a body that had
partially fallen out of the broken trunk. I swallowed hard as I recognized the man.

Joey Miller had been found.

Chapter Two

"
T
his is all your fault, Miz Quinn," Mr. Cabrera said, trying his best to give me his own form of an evil eye.

With his bushy white eyebrows snapped downward in a furry v-shape, he couldn
't quite pull off the look. In fact, he looked so much like a Muppet that it was hard to take him seriously. He'd put on weight over the last few months, thanks to his girlfriend Ursula "Brickhouse" Krauss practically living with him and cooking his meals, and his cheeks had rounded out along with his belly. Both were jiggling, and the tummy wiggle made the pink flamingoes on his lime-green button-down appear to be doing the mamba. A pair of sensible khaki Bermuda shorts and leather sandals completed his outfit.

We stood in Perry and Mario
's kitchen, staring out the sliding patio doors watching the goings-on of the police as they searched the yard. Rain continued to pour down. "How is this my fault?"

He threw a glance at Perry, who was rummaging through moving boxes searching for the hard liquor. I wasn
't surprised that it hadn't been unpacked yet. Even though Mario and he liked the hooch more than anyone I knew (besides my mother and me), they didn't drink when they were counting calories. Now that it was bathing suit season they were constantly counting. I didn't know for sure, but I suspected Mario owned a Speedo or two.

Mr. Cabrera jabbed a finger in my direction.
"This neighborhood has gone to seed since you moved in. Then your friends moved in. And now your friends are continuing
your
homicidal traditions. Next thing I know one of your family members will move into the house for sale next door to you and find a body in the basement."

"
Homicidal traditions? I didn't commit any homicides...yet," I said, eyeing his chest like it had a big target on it. "And no one I know wants to move into that house. It's haunted."

The home, once owned by a granny panty thief, had been unable to hold a tenant for longer than a few weeks at a time. This was the fifth time it was for sale in a year.

"Everyone knows you're cursed," Mr. Cabrera pointed out, ignoring my jibe. "Apparently your friends are as well."

"
Hey now," Perry said, pulling a pout.

He
'd recently had some lip injections, so his pout was quite something.

"
I'm hurt. Cut to the soul," Perry said dramatically. "I might die right here on the spot. Oh, wait. Is this spot already taken? Is this where Mr. Cabrera's
girlfriend
bit the dust last Christmas?" He blinked innocently, his gray-green eyes sparkling. "It seems to me I heard that Nina wasn't the only one around here who is cursed."

Folding his arms across his chest, Mr. Cabrera
harrumphed
.

"
Perry has a good point," I said, finger-combing my wet hair. "Most of the deaths in this neighborhood have belonged to
your
lady friends."

Mr. Cabrera
's curse involved his lady loves who tended to, ah,
expire
while dating him. Some by natural causes and some...not. This curse was why Brickhouse Krauss kept breaking up with him every few months—she was staying one step ahead of the Grim Reaper.

Technically, the woman who died in this house wasn
't Mr. Cabrera's girlfriend at the time, but he'd been wooing her in hopes of making Brickhouse jealous, therefore the death was attributed to his curse.

"
You weren't dating Joey Miller, were you, Mr. Cabrera?" Perry asked, wiggling his dirty blond, perfectly-shaped eyebrows. He took his manscaping seriously. "That might explain some things. Like your taste in shirts."

Perry, who was openly gay and had been since middle school, loved to tease Mr. Cabrera about his sexuality. At first, my grumpy meddling neighbor took it personally and went on the defensive. Now, however, he tended to tease right back.

His unruly eyebrows rose. "I may have passed along a compliment to him a time or two. He had a fine way with a circular saw. A true talent."

"
Aha!" I accused playfully.

"
Now, now, Miz Quinn," Mr. Cabrera said calmly. "As you well know, Ursula and I are doing just fine right now. This death," he waved toward the back yard, "is all on you and
your
curse."

It was true I had a bit of a reputation. I had an uncanny knack for finding dead bodies—people who
'd been murdered—and for helping to solve their cases. At this point the police should just put me on the payroll.

Six months
had passed since I'd seen any kind of dead body, and until today I had started to think my own curse was finally broken...

My curse, apparently, had been taking an extended vacation.

"That," I waved outside, "isn't my fault. I barely even knew him."

"
Perry and Mario knew him," Mr. Cabrera said. "They're your friends, therefore you're guilty."

"
And you've finally lost your mind," I said.

"
Aha!" Perry pulled a bottle of gin from the box. He kissed the label before practically skipping toward the kitchen. "Who wants a G and T?"

"
I do," Mr. Cabrera and I said at the same time.

It had been one of those days.

Dark clouds skimmed treetops as they sped eastward. It looked like the worst of the weather had passed. The Reaux Construction crew were still out in the elements, huddled together just beyond the deck, corralled by a police officer trying to keep them away from the crime scene. Delphine was the only one who had an umbrella and she wasn't sharing—the rest of them looked water-logged. A Freedom PD homicide detective would be here soon to talk to them.

I had a feeling I knew which one, too. Detective Kevin Quinn.

My ex-husband.

I couldn
't escape the man.

And couldn
't decide if I wanted to.

Lime slices balanced on tall glasses as Perry set the drinks on a fancy tray and carried them over to Mr. Cabrera and me. The tray was a nice touch of normal in the midst of all the dust and chaos. The walls had been torn down
to the studs, the bricks from the fireplace lay in piles on the warped wooden floors, and the only furniture in the open living and dining room was a beat-up table with four mismatched chairs.

"
Nice watch," I said, taking hold of his wrist. The vintage watch had a decorative golden crackled dial and a dark brown leather band.

"
This is the one I told you about."

Perry had begun receiving anonymous gifts right after he moved in, and the watch was the latest to arrive. He
'd yet to uncover the identity of his admirer. "It's a beauty."

Abandoning his drink for a moment, Perry stopped and admired the timepiece, holding his arm out to let the light glint off the crystal lens.
"It's a shame I can only wear it when Mario is at work."

Mario was a court stenographer downtown, and I wondered if Mario was on his way home or if he was in a hearing and hadn
't yet heard the news about Joey Miller.

"
Why?" Mr. Cabrera took his drink off the tray.

"
Because Mario thinks it's from an old boyfriend who's trying to get me back. He's the jealous type."

Mario, a dark-haired, dark-eyed Latino was definitely the jealous type.

"Could it be from an ex?" I asked.

"
I don't think so. If any of my exes had this good of taste I'd probably still be with him."

Mr. Cabrera grunted.
"A watch is a watch."

"
Said the man with the flamingoes on his shirt," I said.

He raised his glass to me.
"Said the woman with the
There's Something About Mary
hairdo."

My hands went to my hair and Perry knocked them away.
"Let me." He twisted and tucked and next thing I knew, my hair was pulled up in some sort of chic knot.

Perry was a magician, I was convinced, his hair brush his magic wand.

As my stylist, he knew my hair better than anyone else. Maybe even better than I knew it myself. Until I met him I hadn't cared much about my hairstyle. Now I was in his chair getting highlights every eight weeks—my one vanity.

Mr. Cabrera frowned.
"You don't have any idea who's sending the gifts?"

"
None. I also got a silk pocket square and some expensive cologne. Mario doesn't know about those, so if we can keep them between us, I'd appreciate it."

"
I can be persuaded," Mr. Cabrera said.

Perry sighed.
"Which one do you want?"

"
The cologne. The ladies love a great smelling man."

"
You're making me queasy," I said. "Besides, why do you need to impress 'the ladies' when you have Mrs. Krauss?"

"
I have a right to smell good, Miz Quinn," he snapped.