Raining Men and Corpses: A Fun Cozy Mystery (A Raina Sun Mystery Book 1) (13 page)

“And you’re attracted to that?”

She flushed, irritated at his tone. “Well, you can’t tell by looking at someone on the outside.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about Natalie Merritt?”

“Why would she kill her brother?”

“She has a lot to gain from his death. Holden has a quarter-million-dollar life insurance policy. And then there are the retirement funds from his IRA and his pension.”

Raina gave him a disgusted look. “The same could be said about me if my mother dies. That doesn’t make me want to kill her.”

“You don’t have the kind of debts that Natalie does. Besides, you’ve told me you’re going to kill your mom all the time.”

“So what if she has debts. She can always declare bankruptcy.”

“For her legit debts. You can’t declare bankruptcy for gambling debts. She practically lives at the casinos.”

Raina frowned as she recalled the two men with Holden at the bank parking lot before his death. She hadn’t thought much about the incident at the time. “Loan sharks?”

“Maybe. But rumor has it that someone has been steadily paying them off.”

“Holden?” she asked.

“Maybe. His finances didn’t add up.”

An image of Olivia’s face flashed through Raina’s mind. Just how many women did Holden “borrow” money from?

Matthew frowned. “The college wants the case wrapped up before school starts. So I have a week and a half to pull a
CSI
episode. I’m getting the runaround whenever I ask the school for any help.”

“You would think they’d jump at any chance to help.”

“I think they want everything brushed under a rug. Murder isn’t exactly the best way to open a new school year.”

They sat in comfortable silence for several long minutes. Just like old times. Raina resisted the urge to lean her head on his shoulder and slip an arm around his waist.

Matthew cleared his throat. “I thought it would fade by now.”

“Me, too.”

Raina stared into his dark eyes. He’d destroyed her the last time. It had always been a matter of when, but like the serviceable granny panties in the back of the lingerie drawer, he always turned up when she looked for something sexy. She wanted more than brief moments of bliss followed by long periods of waiting.

If Matthew thought he could use this murder investigation as an excuse to delay their much-needed talk about their non-relationship, then he better start counting the minutes until she solved this case. She'd grown tired of waiting.

B
y the time
Raina slid into the chair across from Eden, dinner service was in full swing. A third of the restaurant spilled out to a roped off section on the main casino floor. Matthew had disappeared after a phone call an hour ago. Not that she’d expected a resolution between them, but she did hope for something more than a quick peck on the cheek.

She squinted against the flashing neon sign above a grouping of slot machines behind Eden’s head. Great. She’d be dining with the casino’s version of a Christmas light display guaranteed to short circuit a few of her optic nerves.

After a bit of small talk, the server left with their orders. Raina had long since lost her enthusiasm for the dinner date. The block sitting on her stomach grew heavier the longer she pretended she was fine. She still didn’t understand why Eden would tell Officer Hopper about her relationship with Holden.

Eden’s eyes glowed. “Didn’t Sol look great?”

“Were you spying on Sol?” Raina gave her a sidelong glance. “Or were you spying on me?”

Eden tried to hide her blush by taking a sip of soda. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“And then you what? Left afterwards?”

“What is this about?”

“So have you found any new information since Friday?”

Eden set the edge of her glass on her fork and soda spilled onto her half of the table. She jumped off her chair. “Fu—”

The server appeared with a pile of napkins as if he’d been buzzed on the intercom. Eden made a big production of wiping and dabbing long after the server moved to another table. When her friend settled down, an awkward silence lengthened the distance of the table between them. The murmurs of conversation, the occasional shriek of excitement, the clang of slot machines, and the clink of silverware on plates. Everyone was having a good time, except at their table.

Raina crossed her arms and leaned back on her chair. “What were you doing with Officer Hopper at the Venus Café on Thursday? Share any secrets?”

The server slid their plates in front of them. Eden squirted ketchup, laid her napkin across her lap, and sliced the steak like this was her last meal.

Raina’s chicken marsala could’ve been made of cardboard for all the attention she gave it. The muscles in her shoulders tightened with each passing minute and the scraping of Eden’s fork grated on her already strung nerves. “Why did you tell Officer Hopper about my relationship with Holden?”

Eden choked, spraying pieces of mashed potatoes across her steak. Raina pounded on her back. When Eden whispered that she was fine, Raina gave her an extra thump. Just to be on the safe side.

Raina settled back into her chair and watched Eden gulp soda. She blinked rapidly as the block in her stomach spread to her chest. She ran through the multiplication tables in her mind. Her best friend had betrayed her.

“It’s not what you think,” Eden said after an eternity.

Raina swallowed and her voice was flat when she said, “I can’t believe you'd betrayed me for a story.”

Eden’s eyes widened “No! That’s not why I did it.”

Raina stared at her hands on her lap. She couldn’t cry. Her ex-friend didn’t deserve her tears. “No wonder you don’t have any other friends.”

Eden pushed a napkin into her lap. “I’d be lying if I told you it has nothing to do with the story. But mostly I did it for you. You need to get Matthew out of your system. He’s toxic. I thought I could push the issue forward.”

Raina dabbed at her eyes. What if Matthew was the love of her life? “Things are complicated between us. You’re not going to understand.” Especially since her friend’s relationships lasted until she realized the frog she wanted to turn into a prince had always been a frog.

“I just want you to be happy.”

“I will be. But don’t interfere with my love life. Just like I don’t interfere with yours.”

“Yeah, but you sure turn up your nose fast enough when I introduce you to my boyfriends.”

Raina rubbed her temples. Now all of a sudden she was the bad friend? “Let’s agree to disagree okay? No more talk about boyfriends. Made any progress with the murder investigation?”

“Nada. You?”

It took all of Raina's willpower to stop her eyes from rolling. She didn't believe for a millisecond Eden hadn't dug up something in the past two days.

Raina shook her head. She forced a smile and made small talk for the next half hour as she pretended to finish her meal. The subject of men didn’t come up again. And even if it did, she wasn’t sure whether she could trust Eden with the new information she’d gotten from Matthew.

R
aina spent
the night tossing and turning. By the time the sky was a pale pink, she dragged herself into the kitchen to start the coffee machine. Birds chirped and cars rumbled past as she sipped and stared out her kitchen window. Her life had clipped along at a mind-numbing pace for the past year. No drama. No family. And no Matthew. It’d been perfect.

The murder investigation had not only brought to the surface her unresolved relationship with Matthew, but it revealed cracks in her best friend she’d rather not scrutinize. She closed her eyes as if this would stop her tumbling thoughts.

Closure was overrated. She should just bury her head in the sand. The police didn’t have any evidence to arrest her even if the fake pregnancy came to light. She didn’t need to know why Holden played her like he did. Nope, she didn’t need to know why men disappeared from her life without explanations. She was a wimp for letting them use her and leave her. That was all there was to it.

She opened her eyes and sighed. Burying her head could mean losing Matthew for good and it wasn’t a risk she was willing to take.

Movement at Eden’s apartment caught her eye. Her tousle-haired friend leaned against the opened doorway, hugging her blue skimpy robe over her body. The raised hemline exposed too much thigh.

Raina stiffened at the familiar back in front of her. When the man turned, the sunlight caught the slope of his nose and five o’clock shadow on his jaw. What was Matthew doing at Eden’s place this early in the morning? Whatever it was, they were up to no good.

Eden spoke and he shook his head. She pleaded with her hands and he reluctantly nodded. He stalked toward the sidewalk, unaware of the extra bystander watching his progress.

The kitchen became unbearably hot. Raina almost turned away when another movement caught her eye.

Sol appeared behind Eden, snaking an arm around her waist. Her friend leaned back and he spoke intimately into her ear.

Raina stumbled into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. She leaned her head between her knees and took several rattled breaths. Would Eden sleep with Sol for a story? Was it that unbelievable when she was willing to sell Raina’s secrets? It shouldn’t matter, but it stung all the same.

But big girls didn’t cry; they got even. She’d find the murderer and feed the details to Eden’s biggest competitor for the Assistant CIE position. Heck, she might even submit the article under her own byline.

B
y the time
Po Po left for her exercise class, Raina had added several pages of scribble to her notebook. When she realized she’d forgotten to check Holden’s house for clues, her first instinct was to tell Eden to grab her purse. She made it to her front door before realizing that she and Eden were playing on different teams.

The sun was a blazing torch above her head when Raina parked in front of Holden’s unremarkable single story brick house. The neighborhood was pleasant with overgrown trees canopying the entire street like a green tunnel. She looked up and down the street. It was lunch time, but most people were still at work. She glanced at the house again. It’d been a week since his death, plenty of time for the police to finish their business with the place.

During the time they’d dated, she’d visited his house once on a drunken night when Holden had lost his key. He’d made a big production of his secret hiding spot. She cringed at how she’d clapped and cheered, but it had flattered him so much he’d shared his other favorite hiding spots with her.

Time to get cracking. Raina leapt out of her car, pulling on a floppy straw hat, sunglasses, and white gloves. The hat and gloves complimented her sundress and strappy sandals. A perfect church outfit, except it was a Monday.

The house looked abandoned, like it had been waiting for its owners to return from a long trip. The drapes were drawn tight. Small twigs and brown leaves were scattered among the legs of the wooden bench on the front patio. Several bundles of newspapers were tossed into the flowerbeds.

After a quick glance around, she sprinted to the side yard, lifted a small moss-covered rock and pulled out the taped spare key. Her heart hammered against her chest, but quick steps took her through the front door and into the house. When the door clicked shut, she sighed in relief. Breaking and entering was more glamorous on TV.

Raina tucked her hat under arms and pushed her sunglasses over her head. The air was stale. It had developed the musty odor of vacant homes in need of a good airing. The three-bedroom house was shabbily furnished, giving no clue as to where Holden had spent his ill-gotten money, which supported the rumor he might have been paying off his sister’s gambling debts. Her new-to-me furniture from Cassie appeared luxurious by comparison.

From where she stood, she studied the sagging sofa with its unraveling seams, the scratched coffee table loaded with books and stacks of paper held together by large clips. She rifled through the clipped piles of paper, which consisted of manuscripts at various stages mixed with pages of handwritten notes. Too bad these manuscripts would end up in the trash when Natalie cleaned out the house.

Raina peeked into the kitchen. The appliances were old but clean. The simple folding table and chairs served as a dining room set. A lonely red mug sat next to the sink on the empty tiled counter top, waiting to be washed. She blinked rapidly at the tightness in her chest and tore her gaze from the mug.

Walking to the small bedroom Holden used as an office, she stood at the doorway, her glance flicking from object to object. The police had taken his laptop. Did they find his tablet or look through his safe?

Raina made her way to the laundry room and retrieved a battered cardboard box from behind his warehouse-size tub of detergent. She rifled through his box of rags and touched the rubber case of his tablet. Bingo! She grinned and stuffed it into her purse.

She replaced the box and opened the door to the connected two-car garage. After flipping on the light, she went inside. Holden hid a small fireproof safe on the wall behind several boxes of Christmas decorations. She stared at his car parked in the middle of the space. He must have taken his bike to work on the day he died. What happened to his bike?

A swish came from inside the house. She spun to face the connecting door. What was that? Her muscles tensed and her ears strained to hear the small shuffle again. Nothing. Dust whirled lazily in the patch of sunlight coming in from the garage door window. Maybe the noise she heard was from outside the house. Probably a squirrel on the roof.

She cocked her head to one side and held her breath. Should she go back into the house or leave through the side door in the garage? She couldn’t hear a thing over her racing heart.

There! The rustle of polyester-clad thighs rubbing together. Someone was in the house.

Raina tiptoed around the car to the side door. The rushing noise in her ears competed with her uneven breaths. Her clammy hands gripped the doorknob. She twisted and pulled. The door scraped against the concrete floor, ripping through the silence. It opened an inch. Gooseflesh peppered her arms. Darn! So much for being quiet.

She glanced over her shoulder while pulling at the door again. It protested even louder. She braced one leg on the doorframe and pulled again, grunting at the effort. The door shuddered. Twelve inches. Bright morning sun fell into the garage from the gap. A squirrel stopped on its track and stared at her.

A gloved hand snaked out and clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream. Another meaty hand wrapped around her waist, jerking her from the door. Her feet left the ground.

Raina jabbed her elbows at her attacker’s soft stomach. He grunted and tightened his grip. She jerked and bucked her body, hoping her attacker would loosen his hold. Her feet kicked out and knocked things off the shelves. Cans thumped to the floor. Hand tools clanked against each other. Her attacker held tight.

She was weakening and slick with sweat. Her muscles ached with tension and trembled with fatigue. Sagging against him, she rammed her head on his chin. Her eyed watered, but she did it again. This time she hit the side of his jaw. He grunted with pain and loosened his grip. He stumbled on something. For a split second, they hung in the air. And they crashed onto the hood of the car.

Raina twisted around and slammed her purse at his face. Something crunched. She kicked his groin and lurched for the side door. Squeezed through the gap. Ran on shaking legs to her car.

It took her three tries before she was able to open her car door. The entire time, she kept glancing behind her, expecting the big man to grab her. She slid into the driver’s seat and clicked the locks shut.

The jangled keys grated on her strung nerves and slipped from her slick fingers. Her fingers patted around the floorboard and made contact with the keys. She jammed the key in the ignition and roared off the curb. Her tires squealed as she tore away from Holden’s house.

Raina turned right and left, and left again, hoping her random turns would make it difficult for her attacker to follow her. After several minutes, she parked in front of a stranger’s house and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. The adrenaline had worn off and she trembled like the last leaf on a barren tree. Blood stained her left hand. With a grimace of distaste, she wiped it on her torn dress. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number she knew by heart.

“Matthew,” Raina said in a clogged voice. She cleared her throat. “Sol Cardenas just attacked me.”