Death and Relaxation (Ordinary Magic #1)(6)
“Close enough. He mentioned Ryder was here when you talked to Dan.”
“Earlier in the evening, yes. I saw him.”
“When did he leave?”
Chris glanced up at the ceiling. “I think he left around one a.m. or so.”
“Huh.”
“Problem?”
“I didn’t know he was closing out the place.”
“He had some things on his mind.”
“Did he happen to mention them?”
“We’re friendly, but he didn’t have much to say.”
“Any of it pertain to a bunch of rhubarb getting massacred?”
“Not that I recall, no.”
“All right. Well, I’m sorry to get you out of bed at this hour. If there’s anything else that I need to know, I’ll get in touch.”
“Happy to help, chief.” He glanced again at the door. There was something back there making him nervous. Something he didn’t want me to ask him about.
“Oh, and one more thing?”
“Yes?”
“What’s behind the door?”
“That door?” He pointed.
“No, the other door you keep looking at like a nervous schoolboy with a closet full of smuggled porn.”
“Right. That door. Just my bed.” He walked across the long room, his bare feet making no noise against the old timbers. He tugged on the latch and opened it.
I followed him. Glanced out at the railing and wooden balcony. The heavy scent of salt water and green things curled up around me. The floor was a hatch and it was shut. I bent, yanked it up on hinges that moved easily.
Stairs stepped downward into darkness. Water, wrinkled and black, rolled, lit by the thin yellow light from his boat anchored right beside the building.
“What don’t you want me to see down there?”
“Nothing, I suppose.”
“Or?”
“Well, I’m…entertaining tonight. Or I would be if you’d get out of here.”
“Do I know this person?”
He shook his head. “We met up at the casino a few weeks ago.”
“She have a name?”
“Margot Lapointe.”
I frowned, searching my memory. “Blonde in a cowboy hat? Has those purple feather extensions woven in her hair?”
He nodded. “That’s her.”
I’d seen her around town, down with Lila Carson, who used to own an interior design store and here in the bar once or twice. “I need you to tell her to step out where I can see her.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Now?”
“Yes.”
“Really.”
“Yes.”
“Because you don’t believe me?”
“Because I either hear her say you’ve been here all night with her, or I search the premises for signs of explosives, starting with the boat.”
“Without a warrant?”
“If you’ve got nothing to hide, it’s more of a friendly look about.”
“They teach you that in cop school?”
“Nope. I learned to be a good friend in kindergarten.” I gave him a winning smile.
He sighed. “I don’t know how fast you think I can get across town to blow something up, but trust me—I’m not one of the beasts in Ordinary gifted with super speed.”
“Not even in a rubber suit with flippers?”
He scowled. “Like I’d need one. And if I did, it’d at least be aerodynamic. Millicent might have been an artist, but that monster suit…” He just shook his head in disbelief.
“Price of living a secret life. You don’t get to complain when you’re portrayed incorrectly in a movie. You gonna call Margot out now so you can alibi out of this?”
“Since you asked so friendly-like.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, typed something into it, turned the screen.
It said: Margot, could you come out on the deck? Have a friend who wants to say hi.
“See? Friend,” I said.
“Didn’t want to tell her the cops are here. We aren’t really at the tell-me-about-your-past-convictions stage of the relationship. Before you ask, she’s been here since about eleven.”
“Ryder saw her with you?”
“Yes.”
The light swung wildly against the pilings, as someone walked out onto the aft of the boat. A face bobbed into view. Blonde, pretty, no cowboy hat. The lavender feathers in her hair shifted in the breeze. Margot had a beer in one hand, a lantern in the other, and no pants on under a large red Jump Off Jack T-shirt that reached her knees.
“Hello?” Margot called. “Chris?”
“Hey, Margot. This is my friend Delaney. She just wanted to make sure we weren’t breaking the law.”
Margot laughed. “I promise I’m over twenty-one, officer. Do you need to see my license?” She put down the lantern, and in so doing lit up the inside of her T-shirt so that every very naked curve of her was accentuated in shadow play against the thin cloth.
She had a good body.
Chris grunted like someone had punched him in the gut.
“Where’s my purse? Hold on, let me get my hands free.” She straddled the lantern now, and downed the beer in one long continuous pull before looking around for where to put the empty bottle. She was a little wobbly on her feet. I wondered how many beers she’d had.