Killer Closet Case: a Danger Cove B&B Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 6) (3 page)

"What about the breakfast part of the bed and
breakfast
? I'm lucky if I don't burn a bag of microwave popcorn. I guess I can make toaster pastries. I'm sure the guests will clamor back for more." My sarcasm may have hit a new high with that statement.

Mom broke into a giddy clap. "That's the best part. The Cinnamon Sugar Bakery delivers goodies every morning. I've got a standing order that always includes extras."

"Okay, but what about—"

Mom cut me off. "We will only be gone for a week or so, honey, and the busy season is winding to an end. Besides, like I said, Sheila's worked here for years, even before we bought the place. She'll take care of most everything. You should shadow her and learn some of her management skills. You'd be great at a job like this, and she'd be a wonderful teacher."

I paced the floor, ending up behind the couch with a nervous knot in my gut. I leaned forward, my hands death-gripping the back cushions. "Are you sure you have to leave so
soon
?"

Dad shifted to face me, a bit of an evil grin contorting his handsome features. "You can come with us. I can probably get a temp agency to take care of things and check on Uncle Eddie."

"Wait, Unc-stable Eddie is here?" Flashes of my childhood popped to mind of a man who'd never met a person he didn't like. Tons of them didn't like him, but that was a different story. Though, tequila generated most of his affection toward others rather than any real bond to speak of.

Dad cast me a wary look. "Don't ever call him that. At least not to his face."

I shook my head, releasing the couch for a second as I traced an
X
over my chest. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to say it now, even. I'm feeling a little overwhelmed."

He nodded and crossed the room, slipping behind the couch to stand next to me, pulling my hands from the cushions. It was his turn to envelop me in a big hug. He kissed the top of my head. "He rents the attic apartment. It's been nice to have that income while we've been renovating and during the slower times. You'll hardly even know he's here. He has his own exit out back and everything. He just pops in for a muffin or scone in the morning, and
poof
, he's gone for most of the day."

I rested my head against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. "At least I won't miss you too much, Dad, since he'll be here to roam around in his underwear."

He nudged me to arm's length, his brow knit with just a bit of disappointment. "He deserves our respect. The man practically raised me after my father passed away. He taught me a hell of a lot more than how comfy it is to relax in your recliner without the burden of a constricting waistband. Until you've tried it, you'd best not be knocking it, young lady. Besides, he knows where he can and can't pull that off. He might be seventy, but he's still sharp as a tack." Dad let me go and walked back to Mom, grabbing her hand, pulling her toward the back living area. "We need to go fill up the tank so we can leave bright and early. We should even have time to take the scenic coastal highway most of the way back." He glanced back at me. "Okay?"

I held my hands out to my sides. Like I really had a choice in their hasty exit at this point? I'd already committed weeks ago. I heard them giggling like schoolchildren on a playground as they rummaged around in the back room. I felt frozen in place, unable to even think as the suddenness of everything swirled about me. I mean, I knew what I was getting into. I just thought I had a little more time to adjust. When I heard the RV start up, I thawed out enough to make my way through the front door. With all of the racket, Cristal must have perked up as well, and she wound her way up the walk onto the porch beside me.

"What's going on?"

I linked my arm through hers. "I'm running a bed and breakfast for a week. Starting
tomorrow
. You can't leave me until I get the hang of things. Pretty please?" My words dripped with desperation. I cast her my best pleading, doe-eyed gaze.

"Okay," she drew out, blinking rapidly before hugging my arm and dropping her head on my shoulder. "For you, the world." She looked up at me, her head still resting on me. "But just for a couple of days. New York calls."

The thought of being in charge on my own filled me with dread, but I nodded.

Dad stopped the RV as they rolled by us. Mom leaned over him and bellowed out the window, "Looks like you've brought your own help with you." She gave me a cynical side-eyed look of surprise, probably because I'd forgotten to mention Cristal. "We had Sheila get our apartment ready for you over the garage, and we'll just sleep in here. Make yourselves at home. We'll be back in a jiff!" She kissed her palm and tossed it my way, drawing out a long
mwah
.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled back, enunciating each word precisely, "Turn your phone on!"

Both parents waved as they pulled out of the drive, reciting in unison, "We will!"

Yeah, right.

I climbed the outside steps to the apartment over the garage with another load of clothes on hangers and one of Cristal's many suitcases that had filled the backseat of my car to overflow status. One particularly odd-shaped case had shifted to whack me in the head each time I'd applied the brakes during our trip. As though it could feel my wrath, I tossed it harshly onto the floor. At least it made
me
feel a little bit better.

"Cristal?" I called out, tossing the hanging items onto the full-sized bed. Rather than a reply, the sound of running water answered my inquiry. I stared into the empty tiny closet that was supposed to hold all of our stuff. Barely the size of a bookcase, there was no way to even fit the few things we still had on hangers. I tapped on the back wall, wondering if that handyman of Mom's could work any magic. It sounded hollow, so there was hope, but it wasn't like we'd be there for very long anyway. I mentally brushed away the idea. We'd make due and only hang the important stuff.

As I rounded the corner back out of the tiny bedroom, into the even tinier living area, I could see steam rolling from under the bathroom door through the kitchenette. It appeared that the space was relatively new, with just a few light fixtures missing and some doors in need of trim. It was all tastefully done in earth tones with splashes of blues and yellows used in accent pieces and artwork. The kitchenette even had granite counters and upscale appliances.

I pushed the heavy drapes back from the living room window and stared out at the breathtaking scenery. Better than any picture I'd ever seen, the heavy shade trees framed the mighty Pacific Ocean. The sun was setting, sparkling across the waves as they crashed against the rocks out in the cove. Yellows and oranges streaked across the sky as the huge sun seemed to flatten out and stretch along the horizon, disappearing as though sinking into the water. I slid the window open and dropped to my knees on the floor, arms resting on the windowsill and my chin propped upon them, to watch the colors fade and listen to the waves.

"Wow," Cristal muttered, practically in my ear, scaring me into a standing position in one fluid motion. "That's all kinds of awesome." She stood next to me, one big fluffy white towel twisted over her wet hair and another wound around her petite frame.

I held a hand over my pattering heart, steadying myself. "Thanks for helping me carry stuff up before you got in the shower," I taunted sarcastically.

She scoffed. "I'm staying for a few days out of the goodness of my heart to help you. I think you need to cut me a little slack."

Already past slightly miffed, I snapped, "I'm letting you use my car to drive to New York to look for work."

She tried to dismiss me with a regal sweep of her hand and turned toward the bedroom. "Fine," she huffed. "My attorney says I should have all of my accounts unfrozen by the end of next month at the latest. I'll just wait until then." Tears welled in her eyes.

Which, of course, was my kryptonite. And she knew it.

My posture slumped out of defensive mode. "I'm sorry, Cris. I know this is hard on you. It's only temporary." I ran a comforting hand down her arm.

She flopped onto the black-and-tan speckled loveseat, so I sat in the matching wingback chair next to her, which, other than a small round coffee table and a bookcase, were the only pieces of furniture that would fit in the condensed space.

Cristal reached down and motioned toward the floor in front of her. "Let me braid your hair."

I draped the plaid throw blanket from the back of the chair over her bare legs, knowing there was nothing else keeping me from parts of her I had no intention of grazing, and flopped on the floor between her knees. "If you're trying to butter me up for something, you're on the right track."

She threaded her fingers through my hair, quickly detangling my curls. "If not for your wash-and-go styling habits, we may have never met."

I laughed as she sectioned parts of my hair off and tightly wove them into a French braid. "Even your best makeup job and hair styling still couldn't save me from twisting an ankle and falling off the runway into the Prada buyer's lap."

Cris put a hand on my shoulder. "Had he not been gay, that might have gotten you some brownie points and kick-started things for you."

"Well, I think the brownies themselves might have had a little bit to do with my failed modeling career. I believe the dress seam also split open right over my butt from my fall, if my mortified memories serve me right. Let's face it—I'm just not glam material."

Our laughter filled the tiny apartment.

When she was finished with my hair, I handed her the ponytail holder, which I usually kept on my wrist, so she could secure it. I turned sideways, laying an arm across her bony knees. "Then you had to go and land an agent and hit the big time." I meant it as a compliment, but the smile tumbled from her lips, and reality snuffed the sparkle from her eyes.

"I should've known he didn't love me. I just don't know what I'm going to do," she blubbered, tears streaming down her cheeks.

I knew better than to say what popped into my mind. You know, the usual stuff about married men being off limits, agents only using you as long as your star is rising and then throwing you away, LA not loving anyone—just tolerating the pretty people for a while. She'd heard it all from others anyway. Strangers who recognized her face from television or an ad even stopped her on the streets to scold her for cheating and lecture her on life choices.

Sure, Cristal wasn't the first person to sleep with her agent to get ahead. That was as old as the professions of modeling and acting themselves. She may have been the first person, however, to sleep with an agent who was married to an even bigger agent in the business. When his wife caught them in bed together, crap hit the fan. Hard. She went for Cristal's jugular, both at the scene of the infidelity and in every legal way she knew how. His wife's attorneys convinced a judge to freeze all of Cristal's accounts while they sifted through her financial records for anything that might be owed the wife as compensation for her pain and suffering under the guise that her husband had been paying all of Cristal's bills, some of which was actually true. She also made sure to blacklist Cristal on every reputable set in the Los Angeles area—maybe even the country—and go in front of any newscaster who would give her time to bash her husband and his affair.

Cristal was ruined.

It was a shame, really. She was actually an exceptional actress, an amazing runway model, and a wonderful friend. When I would come home upset after a failed interview, she always had a pint of rocky road ice cream with two spoons ready as I walked through the door. Granted, I ate all but a couple of bites, but it was the thought and commiseration that counted. So many times, when I couldn't even find a job in fast food, Cristal had paid my share of the rent and utilities, even. Unfortunately for both of us, one of those times was now, and we had to let the apartment go.

"You'll find a new acting gig soon." I jiggled her knee so she'd look at me.

She shook her towel-heavy head but continued to study her manicure. "Not unless I want to be the next star of the
Debbie Does Dallas
reboot." Her tear-filled eyes narrowed on me. "But I could totally pull that off, you know. If I wanted to."

I shook my head vehemently. "Maybe you could get back into modeling in New York or something. Isn't that the plan?"

"Max's wife knows people there too," she sniffled, huge tears still rolling down her face. "But I'm going to drive out there and scour that city because I refuse to let them win."

"We don't have to solve anything career related tonight. Besides, what we really need to concentrate our energy on is what I'll do if this place gets busy." I huffed out a nervous breath and stood, offering a hand to her. "Go finish getting cleaned up, and I'll get the rest of the car unloaded."

Her demeanor shifted a complete one-eighty, and she grinned back while accepting my help up. "Thanks. You're a peach," she bubbled, then pranced toward the bedroom.

I wasn't quite sure if the tears were part of her good acting skills or if the happy facade was. Maybe both. I released another huge sigh, this one of resignation. As I grabbed for the doorknob, there was a knock from the other side. I yanked my hand away and stared at the handle like it was possessed or something.

"Hello?" boomed an accented male voice from the other side.

I looked over my shoulder, pausing to give Cristal a chance to get into the bedroom before I opened the door. She just raised a quizzical, perfectly plucked brow instead. She wasn't exactly the shy type, so I swung it open anyway.

Peering over my shoulder at the Adonis on the other side of the threshold, Cristal practically purred in my ear, giving a voice to my feelings as well. He was dressed in faded jeans that were spattered with soil and ripped at one knee, a well-worn Seattle Seahawks T-shirt, and a matching ball cap. His arms were loaded down with boxes and sacks of tools and fixtures, impressive biceps protruding from the weight. His dark hair flipped up over the back edge of the neon-green hat and swept across his forehead.

"Can we help you?" she cooed, backing away from me, undoubtedly to give him a better vantage point and let him see if she had anything he liked. What red-blooded man wouldn't approve of anything she had to offer? Even without makeup and with her hair in a towel, she was gorgeous. You know, if leggy blonde was your type.

And she knew it.

"My name's Cristal." She dropped her chin, peering at him seductively through her lashes. "You know, like the champagne. What's yours?"

He had the same gaping, lopsided smile/stare that most men got when she flirted with them. "Uh, Mal," he sputtered.

I turned a glowering look toward Cristal. "Please put some clothes on."

She grabbed the hem of her towel and dipped in a deep curtsy. "As you wish." She turned to the enamored man at our door and cooed, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mal. I just have to get my things." Sashaying backward into the bedroom, she never broke her locked gaze with the mysterious stranger at the door until he was out of her line of sight next to the bed. She then shot me a snotty scowl while digging through the pile of clothing on the bed. She pulled out a clingy micro-dress, grabbed heels from the floor, and regally glided back to the bathroom.

His grin was awkward and lopsided, and his brow was raised skeptically into his dark bangs. "I'm looking for John or Janet Milford," he said, a touch of the Scottish accent my mom had mentioned lilting his words and reducing me momentarily to a gawking preteen with a new crush.

Shaking my head to regain most of my sense, I finally turned it into an acknowledging nod. "You must be Mr. O'Connell. I'm Bree, their daughter. They've gone…" Crazy? Out of their rock-loving minds? "They'll be back in a bit. They left to fill up the RV. My friend Cristal…" I dropped my face into my palm and muttered, "Who you just had the pleasure of seeing in most of her glory…" I forced my gaze back to his. "And I are going to be taking care of things for a bit."

He twisted the handle of one of the bags over his wrist and extended a hand the best he could, his massive bicep bulging even more. I resisted the urge to touch it while I shook his hand, but it didn't stop me from staring. "Please, call me Mal. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard all about you and your brother."

Coming to my senses completely, I stepped out of the way so he could come in and put his things down. "Only believe about twenty percent of what you've been told."

His smile widened, creating a pair of deep dimples that made his five o'clock shadow even sexier, as he unloaded his bags of tools and equipment against the wall by the door.

Wow. I felt myself blush and started to babble about the only thing fresh in my mind, even though it really wasn't my decision. "Would you have time to look at maybe making the bedroom closet a little deeper?" I reached over my shoulder, pointing to the closet in question. "There's no way our stuff will fit in there. I can't believe my mom was okay with this tiny thing, because she has more clothing than both of us combined." It wasn't like I really expected him to do it. I was just rambling like usual.

"Most of these renovations were done before your parents bought the place. I'm no' sure there's any room to work with."

Cristal paraded into the living room in the tiny black dress, matching heels, and full makeup. Her normally sleek blonde hair lay in damp beach waves. Even though she wasn't in her normal flawless state, it had to have been some kind of land-speed record for her.

She popped out her shiny, pink-glossed bottom lip. "Pretty please? At least try?" She ran a finger down his shirtfront. "For me?"

His chin hitched upward, his shoulders arching back, in some kind of macho gesture that Cristal evoked in most men, before he glanced back at me. "I'll need to, uh, give your parents a quote and make sure they approve, but I can move it to the top of my list for tomorrow if they're okay with it." He smiled, shifting his gaze between us.

Gravel crackled from the drive as the huge RV rolled back into place. I'd left the window in the living room open, so my parents' giggling carried through the evening air as though they were standing right next to us.

My father whistled as the doors to the RV slammed shut. "Honey, that butt of yours just gets better with age."