The Root of All Trouble (3 page)

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my drink. I had a feeling I
'd need a refill soon.

Perry motioned toward the back yard.
"I hate to think about how long he's been out there." He cocked a hip, swirled his ice, and said, "I started smelling something bad back there yesterday but couldn't figure out what it was. I thought it was a neighbor's trash. Mario joked that we'd moved into a trashy neighborhood."

"
That's not funny," Mr. Cabrera said. "This neighborhood was just fine until—"

"
Yeah, yeah," I said. "We don't need to go through all that again." I leaned on the edge of the table, and was glad that Mario wasn't home, or he would have chastised me to use a chair. He was a stickler like that.

Mr. Cabrera squeezed his lime. His dark eyes were
as big as moonpies when he asked, "Did you see how his head was dented in like Mario's car that one time you crashed it?"

Despite his commentary about the state of the Mill, there was nothing Mr. Cabrera liked better than a little commotion in the neighborhood. He was the gossip king, and all this hubbub would be great fodder at his weekly to-do, which once included a cribbage match or a poker game. On tap this week was a Scrabble tournament.

"Makes sense," Perry said, "considering, and thanks for bringing up the car, Mr. C. Mario still gets peeved about that. See if I share that cologne with you after all."

"
Considering what?" I asked, my nosiness at an all-time high.

"
The bloody rhinestone hammer that fell out of the tree with the body. I'm guessing it was what did that to his skull." Perry
tsk
ed and said mournfully, "It's a shame, really. He had such a nice head of hair. Not many men can wear a shag cut and pull it off. That's about the only nice thing I can say about him."

Mr. Cabrera nodded in agreement.
"The shag is a toughie. I tried it once in the seventies."

Perry gasp
ed. "With your bone structure?"

"
It was a mistake I've never repeated."

"
Your Clark Cable slick suits you. Don't fix what ain't broke."

Mr. Cabrera patted his hair with a
smug smile. I didn't think his 'do was in danger of change since he had a cabinet full of pomade at home that he wouldn't want to go to waste.

Sadly, I couldn
't argue with Perry's assessment of Joey. The man was a bit of a...cretin. He'd pinched my ass more than a few times, and he leered at every woman he ever met. There was an air of slimeball about him that made me squirm. He was the type to steal a granny's retirement fund and milk from a baby.

It hadn
't surprised me at all that he was dead.

What did surprise me was where he was found.

I stood up and peered out the slider. I hadn't seen the hammer when I arrived. "Wait a second. That hammer... Wasn't that Delphine's?"

"
Have you ever seen anything more ridiculous?" Mr. Cabrera shook his head. "A rhinestone encrusted hammer?"

I was about to mention his shirt again, but decided against it and took another sip of my drink.

Jean-Claude mentioned the hammer had gone missing, but he neglected to mention it had gone missing at the same time as Joey.

"
Do you think she's the one that bashed in his head?" Perry asked, his eyes aglow.

He was going to fit into this neighborhood just fine.

"I can't see it," Mr. Cabrera said. "She has the fight in her all right, but she's too tiny to get him into the tree."

"
On her own
," Perry said ominously.

Mr
. Cabrera nodded. "True, true."

"
I wouldn't rule her out. The opening of that hollow was only three feet off the ground, and she's stronger than she looks."

Through the glass, I studied Delphine as she hunkered beneath a plain black umbrella. She was small, maybe five
foot one or two, but she was as curvy as any 1940's pinup girl. She had long dark hair and smoky black eyes. A skintight black leather micro-mini skirt clung to her wide hips and nipped in at her narrow waist, and a tight t-shirt barely contained her double Ds. One of her crew members, Bear Broward, held the umbrella over her head, and she kept dabbing at her heavily-lined eyes with a tissue.

There was a don
't-mess-with-me look about her that made me believe she wouldn't think twice about using that hammer on someone. But why? "Okay, conspiracy theorists, why would Delphine kill Joey? What's her motive? And wouldn't she have been stupid to leave the hammer behind?" She struck me as a lot of things but stupid wasn't one of them.

Perry finished off his drink and wiggled his eyebrows.
"They were a couple."

"
A couple of what?" Mr. Cabrera asked.

Perry shot him a look.

I said, "He can't handle his alcohol. It makes him loopy."

"
A couple." Perry made kissing noises. "I saw them making out in the front seat of her truck once. Could be this head bashing is the result of a lover's quarrel."

"
I like it," Mr. Cabrera slurred, making kissing sounds.

Perry pried the glass from his hand and said,
"Ooh, here comes someone who can probably sort it all out. Man, does he get more gorgeous every day?"

Yes. Yes, he did. Not that I noticed or anything.

Kevin had arrived, and he didn't look too happy about the scene before him. A scowl tugged at his lips as rain spilled down his face.

"
Don't let Mario hear you talking like that," I said, hating the pangs I felt in my stomach.

Perry made the sign of the cross.

Kevin looked around, then swiped a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back. He turned his face up toward the sky and Perry and I both sighed a little.

Mr. Cabrera knocked on the slider and waved like a madman, alerting Kevin to our presence i
nside the house. The dry house.

I said,
"No more gin for him. Ever."

"
You should have warned me before."

"
I was a little distracted with the dead guy and all."

"
They're coming up here," Mr. Cabrera said.

"
I need a refill," Perry mumbled.

"
Me, too. In a to-go cup." I needed to get out of here ASAP.

Perry grabbed my arm.
"Oh no. You're the one who talked me into moving to this neighborhood in the first place. You're staying."

"
If I'm staying," Mr. Cabrera said, "I'm going to need a refill, too."

"
No," I said.

"
You're not the boss of me, Miz Quinn." Mr. Cabrera set his hands on his hips and tipped his head, challenging me.

"
Do I need to go and get Ursula?"

He paused for a second before grumbling,
"She's not the boss of me, either."

"
She's not?" This was news to me.

"
She thinks she is, but she's not."

Perry
said, "When are you going to pop the big question to Ursula anyhow? I thought you've been looking at engagement rings."

Mr. Cabrera sniffed.
"I don't know if I am."

"
What's that mean?" It had been decided that the key to them staying together permanently was to get married. His curse only affected women he
dated
.

"
If you must know, I'm not sure I'm ready to settle down," he said. "I'm a catch."

I rolled my eyes—he was always going on about what a catch he was. I didn
't have time to dissect his little tantrum and what it meant for Brickhouse's and his relationship because the patio door slid open.

Kevin stepped inside, paused a second as he looked at me, and said,
"Hello, Nina. Fancy seeing you here."

The worst of the weather may have blown over, but by the look in Kevin
's eyes, the real storm was just beginning.

I looked at Perry.
"I'll take that refill now."

Chapter Three

I
t was a motley crew who followed Kevin inside.

A drenched motley crew, four of them in all
, all as mismatched as the chairs Kevin directed them to sit in.

"
Luvie, can I trouble you for a towel?" Delphine Reaux purred to Perry as she rubbed up against him. Whisking raindrops from her face, she batted her fake lashes.

It was last week when I started to wonder if Delphine was part cat since she couldn
't seem to talk, walk, or stretch like a normal person. She had the sleek look of a feline, but there was a glint in her eye that warned she might be feral, so approach at your own risk.

I kept my distance.

"Absolutely!" Perry snapped to and dashed down the hallway, at her beck and call. Even though there wasn't a heterosexual bone in his body, Delphine had that effect on
all
men.

"A whole stack," I called after Perry. Delphine hadn't asked for towels for the others, who were more soaked through than she, because she'd been the only one to have an umbrella.

It spoke volumes about her character. Not that her character was ever in question. With Delphine, what one saw was what one got. Claws and all. And speaking of claws, her fingernails were painted blood red and bedazzled with crystals.

I had to admit, I kind of liked the crystals (don't tell my fashionista sister Maria). I could hardly remember the last time my raggedy nails had been painted. With my line of work, a manicure was a waste of money.

I was surprised Delphine didn
't have the same problem, being in construction. But obviously she didn't get her hands dirty too often, with work, at least.

I stood off to the side along with Mr. Cabrera, who
'd found the gin on the counter and poured himself another drink.

He was going to regret that decision in the morning.

Me? I was probably going to regret it in fifteen minutes when I had to walk him home and explain his condition to Mrs. Krauss. The man couldn't hold his liquor and was going to be falling-down drunk soon.

I
'd known Brickhouse since I was fifteen years old. She scared me then, and she scared me now. We'd come a long way in our friendship, mostly because I'd discovered that she was more bark than bite, but every once in a while she still gnashed her teeth and took a chunk out of my hide. I feared that when I delivered an inebriated Mr. Cabrera home to her that this was one of those times when she would bite.

The group sat forlornly at the table, most of them dripping rainwater onto the floor. I wasn
't too worried about the old wooden boards—they were due to be pulled up and replaced any day now.

Well, it
had
been scheduled. I wasn't sure how Joey Miller's murder would fit into the renovation plans.

My gaze skipped from face to face. This group had all become familiar to me over the past week, yet in light of what had been found in the back yard, I was looking at them through fresh eyes. It was very possible one of them was a killer.

Delphine sat at the head of the table and to her right sat Brian "Bear" Broward, who only had eyes for her. He'd earned his nickname because he looked just like a giant bear. Over six feet tall, he had shaggy curly brown hair, big round brown eyes, a rounded belly and a slightly hunched back. But make no mistake, there was nothing cuddly about him. He was more grizzly than teddy.

Opposite Delphine sat Ethan Onderko. If he had a nickname it would probably be something like
"Serial Killer." I'm kidding, kind of. Mid-twenties, he was tall and skinny with a bit of a James Dean look about him with gorgeous downturned eyes that were black and devoid of humanity. With his slicked-back hair he had "bad boy" attitude stamped all over him. He favored white tees and ripped jeans, drove an old pickup truck and smoked like a chimney. I wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if he pulled a switchblade from his pocket and carved his initials into the walnut table—right after he stabbed someone with its sharp tip. He was terrifying.

On Delphine
's left, Plum Reaux tapped her modestly-manicured nails on the table and made puppy dog eyes at an oblivious Bear. Tall (almost as tall as Bear), she was heavyset with broad shoulders, triple Ds (at least), a modest waist, and wide hips. If one "supersized" Delphine, she would look a lot like Plum, which made all kinds of sense since they were sisters. She embraced her womanly hourglass figure by wearing a gold one-piece jumpsuit that was belted just under her enormous breasts. With her dark blue eyes and long chestnut hair, she was va-va-voom gorgeous—even soaking wet.

Seriously, the whole Reaux family was stunning.