Marshmallow S'More Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 3) (7 page)

BOOK: Marshmallow S'More Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 3)
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"When do we find whatever it is we're looking for?" Maria asked.

"We don't.
It
is actually a
they,
and they find us. This is the trail to find them," I said, climbing and keeping my eyes open.

We didn't talk as we hiked the last few hundred feet, mostly because it was too hot and humid and we needed to save our lung capacity for making it up the mountainside. Sweat poured off of my face and found its way down my body, pooling in my clothes. My skin was crawling with what I hoped were imaginary bugs. I just kept thinking about Riley. And how much he was going to owe me after this.

"Yew can stop rightchere," a male voice snarled in front of us. The man was short, skinny, and wore camouflage that mostly hung in rags around his bony frame. Oh yeah, and he was carrying a twenty-gauge shotgun which was unfortunately aimed at us.

"Elvinia's expecting us," I said with my hands raised in the air.

"Well mebbe she is," the man growled, "and mebbe she ain't." He stood there, staring at us. A bird chirped. It was so quiet I swear I heard the ticks crawling toward me.

"So…" I said slowly. "Are you going to take us to her?"

"Mebbe I will, and mebbe I won't," the man said, not moving a muscle. Apparently he hadn't made his mind up yet. This was a hillbilly standoff. It's a little different than a Mexican standoff, where each person has a gun held on the other. In this case, only one guy had a gun, but he wasn't entirely sure what to do with it.

"Okay." I shrugged. "So what do we do now?"

The redneck (I decided to name him Clem since he didn't introduce himself) looked a little surprised by my question. Apparently, the word
mebbe
was the only one in his vocabulary.

"Well?" I pressed. I'd had to deal with his type before. It didn't matter if you were in backwoods Mississippi or the wilderness of Romania—there was always
this
guy.

Clem looked around himself. Maybe he thought he had others with him, or maybe he was afraid of a black bear sneaking up on him. It was a little unclear what he was thinking at this point. But time was running out. We had to get to Elvinia and back to my parent's house before the evening ended.

"Hey, Clem!" Another voice echoed through the trees. Really? His name really was Clem? Maybe the bug spray made it possible for me to read minds. It wasn't doing a good job because, outside of his name, I was drawing a blank.

"Whatchya doin?" The voice belonged to a giant of a man whose face was hidden by matted black hair. It might have been a bear for all I knew. This guy was about six-foot-five and probably three hundred fifty pounds. Long black hair hit his shoulders, and a grizzled beard hung down to his navel. The beard was full of leaves, twigs, and unidentifiable matter that my gag reflex really hoped was food.

"Hey, Earl," Clem said. "I wuz fixin ta shoot these uns." He pointed the gun toward Maria. She didn't look intimidated. She had one of the best poker faces in the business. That was, until he spat a long, dark stream of tobacco juice onto the ground. Her face expressed something that looked a little like a cross between horror and disgust.

"Zat so?" Earl brushed hair from his eyes, with what could only be described as a giant, hairy paw, and squinted at us.

Clem shrugged. I felt a bit more nervous realizing that Clem might just shoot us for no reason at all.

"Wut fer?" he finally asked. Earl scratched his beard, and a pinecone fell out.

"Wuttuya mean, wut fer?" Clem countered.

And once again, we were at an impasse.

"If it's all the same to you"—I interjected this meeting of the minds—"we'd rather not get shot. For whatever reason. We've actually come to see Elvinia."

Earl thoughtfully scratched his head. "Okay," he said at last. "I reckon I can take ya to her."

As we walked up to him, Earl held out his hand. "I'll need your shooters."

"We don't have any," I lied.

Earl nodded to Clem, who stepped up and felt the small of my back. He pulled out the pistol, then took Maria's. I'd figured they'd do something like this, but you really are limited to where you can hide a gun when you're somewhat slender. And no, I wasn't about to use any caliber smaller than a .45. If these guys were on the 'shine, they wouldn't even feel a .22, .380 or even 9mm.

"Can I shoot 'em for having guns?" Clem looked hopeful.

"Nah." Earl wiped a hairy paw across his forehead. "Let's go."

Maria and I followed him, trying not to make eye contact with the now dejected Clem, who sadly hung his head as we passed.

It was easy following Earl. Kind of like following a giant, sweaty bulldozer wearing overalls. He moved slowly, lumbering through the woods with a definite sense of purpose. I made sure to leave a trail of scratched bark and broken plants so we could find our way back just in case we didn't have our chaperone. Elvinia's homestead was well hidden in the Blue Ridge Mountains. If we were lucky, she'd have someone take us back, but we'd have to make sure we didn't piss her off.

Maria tapped me on the shoulder. "How far is it?"

"Not much longer," I said, even though I really didn't know. Earl was walking so slowly we were in constant danger of bumping into him. Even though he seemed fairly easy going, I didn't want to find out if I was wrong.

Eventually, we crested a hill to see a valley below, tucked in between three small mountains.

"That looks like a Colombian drug lair," Maria whispered.

I nodded. "You were thinking tar paper shack with an old-timey still, weren't you?" I waited for her to nod. She didn't. She was staring at a frog that had jumped out of Earl's beard. It hit the ground running and hopped away into some brush. Earl didn't even notice.

"Elvinia likes things a certain way," I said as we carefully picked our way down the steep hillside to the compound.

Elvinia had built a Spanish-style mansion, complete with tiled roof and fountains. Considering her background, you'd have thought she'd have a Japanese-type décor. But no, she was just crazy that way.

"Feeeeeyun!" a woman screamed from inside the house before stepping onto the front porch. Elvinia squealed when she saw me, then hurled her short but plump body at me. I braced myself for the impact.

"You have to call me Merry now," I croaked through a crushing hug.

Elvinia released me, and I staggered backwards, clutching my throat, "Nice to see you too!" Our host wore overalls that matched Earl's. Frizzy red hair stuck out of her head at all angles, and she smiled through missing teeth. You couldn't let her looks fool you.
Crazy
and
shrewd
were the only words you could accurately describe her with. It's funny how often those two things went together.

I motioned to Maria. "This is my friend and colleague, Maria." I watched with some amusement as Elvinia crushed her in an embrace.

"Well, come inside, y'all!" She held the door open for us, and we went in.

I should've prepared Maria for the shock. Sure, the outside looked like a Spanish hacienda, but the inside was something entirely different.

"Are those real Picassos?" Maria gasped, pointing to a row of paintings. Inside the house, the décor was postmodern with white floors, walls, and ceilings and very little of anything else. The furniture was so eclectic you needed a manual to find out how to sit in it. Everything was brushed steel and white leather. It was unsettling to say the least.

"Yep! You've got a good eye!" Elvinia grinned. She looked like a backwards redneck in a European museum. Like someone who'd have been thrown out just for thinking about setting foot in there.

"I've met his former lover, Françoise Gilot." It was weird hearing a sharp, Southern accent speak a French name. Somehow, she pulled it off.

"Anyhoo, Françoise sold me some of Pablo's stuff. Ain't it pretty?" Elvinia looked very pleased with herself. I'm sure she couldn't talk art much with Earl and Clem. And even then it would probably be over Andy Capp or Li'l Abner cartoons.

"Elvinia," I started. "We need your help."

"Come on in for some sweet tea! Brewed it myself!" Our hostess waved me off before turning to head down the hall to the kitchen.

"Wow…" Maria said, eyes agog. "Just…wow."

"You'll get used to it," I replied, even though we weren't going to be there long enough to get used to anything.

The kitchen was modern and up to date with stainless steel appliances, quartz countertops, and every kind of pot and pan available to mankind. She even had a pasta arm between the sink and stove.

"Here ya go!" Elvinia pushed two glasses filled with tea toward us. She'd added a lemon and mint garnish to both. "Now I know you didn't come back here to see my cousin Knob again. Although I don't mind tellin' you, he was mighty interested."

I suppressed a shudder. "No, I'm not here to see Knob." I gave Maria a look that hopefully said "don't ask."

"Dammit," Elvinia said. "That boy needs to get married! Not many girls would take him, you know, due to his affliction." She turned her attention to Maria. "I don't suppose you're single?"

Maria shook her head and waved her hands in front of her. "I'm not really into guys," she lied. I smothered a grin.

"Don't that beat all?" Elvinia said with a surprised look. Her expression faded immediately, and she got down to business. "Oh well, whatchya want?"

I tried to make myself sound as casual as possible. "We need some info. On the yakuza."

Elvinia's face went from smiling and happy to dark and stormy. You never really knew with her what it would take to set her off. I knew she had a soft spot for the Japanese syndicate. Would it be enough that she'd take offense?

"Why do you ask?" A chill seeped into her voice, and I tried not to shiver under her piercing glare. It was possible I'd figured this all wrong. Maybe I should've said I
was
interested in Knob.

"It's Riley, my former handler," I started slowly. "He's missing, and we traced some intel back to the Japanese Embassy."

Elvinia put her hands on her hips. "And you figured it had to be the Ninkyo Dantai, right?"

"Ninkyo Dantai?" Maria asked.

"Chivalrous Organizations," I explained. "It's what the yakuza call themselves."

Elvinia's scowl deepened into a snarl. "It's what we are! We take care of family! We ain't no renegade criminals!"

I raised my hands. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put it that way. It was insensitive of me."

Our host muttered, "It ain't our fault we get blamed for everything. Why do ya want information on the family?"

"I just want to know if you've heard anything. That's all. I'm not asking you to turn Riley over or to negotiate his release," I lied hopefully. Because that would've been awesome.

She shook her head. "They'd only take 'im if they thought he had sumpthin ta do with Midori's murder."

Please, please let me look completely normal.

"Oh?" I asked as innocently as possible. "Remember that I'm retired. I hadn't heard anything about a murder."

Elvinia studied me for a moment. I held firm on my poker face. Hopefully, she'd buy that.

Then she launched into the story.

"Midori's body was found in Chicago behind a Japanese grocery store a little ways back. She'd been murdered. No one knew she was even in the US. They just thought she'd gone to a spa for a real long time." Again, Elvinia glared at me to gauge my reaction.

"So she just disappeared, but no one thought anything was wrong?" I asked. We never did figure out how or why the yakuza boss had been in this country. Maybe Elvinia knew.

She shook her head. "Don't know. All I know is they didn't realize she'd gone missing until she turned up dead."

Oh, well. It was a long shot to think she'd know more than I did.

"If Riley had sumpthin ta do with Midori's murder, I'm afraid that no one can help him," she said finally. "Maybe you had sumpthin ta do with it too?" Her eyes narrowed.

Uh-oh. This was not good.

"I've been retired and living in Iowa for almost two years now, Elvinia. I'm just as out of the loop as you are." I tried not to smile as I said this. Elvinia was notorious for wanting to be in the know on everything going on in the US as far as the yakuza went.

The woman's face turned bright red, matching her hair. She looked like a tomato that was about to explode. "I am
not
out of the loop on
anything
!"

Elvinia stomped out of the room, slamming the door to the kitchen as she left.

"Is that good or bad?" Maria whispered.

"I'm not really sure," I answered back. "I think it's safe to say we might be in trouble."

I looked around for any weapons, pulling open drawers in hopes of finding a hidden Uzi or bowie knife. But no such luck. Elvinia had played this game before and decided to hide all pointy things in case they'd be used against her. There wasn't so much as a corkscrew. The closest thing I could find was a cheese grater, and it would be pretty hard to kill someone with that. Oh, you could shave off some skin, and it would be painful, but that's about it.

BOOK: Marshmallow S'More Murder (Merry Wrath Mysteries Book 3)
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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