Killer Con Fuego Page 2
A man Scooby’s size but a few years older stormed into the room. “You don’t have time to gossip,” he scolded. “Apparently, Santi wants to show you something.” Scooby’s smile sagged. “Now!”
“Sure, Dave. I’m on my way.” Scooby grinned at the ladies. “I’ll be right back.” He hustled behind Dave, who stopped to apply a layer of Maxx Body Spritz to his torso. Scooby walked into the middle of a cloud of man-made man scent. He gagged and sneezed.
“Oops,” Dave said. He snickered. Ivy watched as Scooby wheezed and ran to the kitchen.
Chapter 3
LYDIA ARRIVED AT THE vacation rental with Scout in hand. She was excited to get into the townhouse and make it feel more like home. Though Ashton wasn’t technically far from Honey Pot, it was still considered “out of town.” Ethan, Lydia’s devoted husband, decided to treat Lydia and her friends for a weekend in the city.
Luckily for him, the owners of the restaurant hosting her dinner also owned a few of the townhouses in the square across the street. They rented one complete townhouse to visiting guests. As a result, Ethan got a huge area, in which he could shove half of his Honey Pot friends for the weekend, and a fabulous deal to boot.
Lydia put Scout down in the living area. The baby immediately crawled away in search of misadventure.
“Ethan,” Lydia hollered as she dropped her bags on the couch.
“I’ll grab the baby gates,” he said and returned to the courtyard, where all their possessions rested near a terracotta fountain. He clattered back into the house a moment later.
Lydia stalked Scout. She struggled to distract the baby. “Let’s find Ivy’s room.” Giving up, Lydia lifted Scout and carted her around downstairs. “Here it is,” she called Ethan from the end of the hallway.
Joan, Ivy, and Scout were to share a room. Across the hall, Eloise, Eden, and Jess would probably giggle until all hours. Next came a guest bathroom and one more bedroom, ready to host Mom, Dad, and Baby Brandes. Kat and Thad were stationed in the living room. Upstairs, Lydia and Ethan took the master suite. It would be tight, but it was only for two nights. Lydia couldn’t wait.
At 10 a.m., on a Friday, Lydia had about five hours before the families arrived. Ivy and Joan were already in town, gathering up staples for the townhouse’s pantry. Lydia supervised Ethan as he put two baby gates in place: one guarding the stairs and another to block off entry to the kitchen. Even with them secured, Scout was free to wreak terror on every adult present by meandering into any of the other rooms.
Scout’s burbling and babbling suddenly ceased, and the weight of her head warmed Lydia’s shoulder. As did a sudden river of drool that escaped the baby’s teething mouth. Lydia patted Ivy’s baby instinctually. Ethan snapped a picture of his wife in her maternal state.
“I miss that,” he said.
“What? Me sweat-soaked and smelling of baby spittle?” Lydia pouted at Ethan.
“No. You, softly swaying with our baby in your arms.” Ethan laid his load of bags in the hall and wrapped his arms around both ladies. He kissed Scout’s damp head and Lydia’s blushing face.
“I always felt like such a mess back then.”
“You were. But you were a beautiful mess. I should’ve told you more often.”
Lydia rested her head on her husband’s chest. Scout cuddled between them, safe between her adoptive grandparents. “I wouldn’t have minded,” Lydia said.
“You wouldn’t have believed me.”
“True,” Lydia said.
Ethan cradled Scout’s head in his palm to avoid crushing her as he offered his wife a deeper kiss.
"You know, it doesn't matter how old you get, seeing your parents kiss is disgusting." Joan laughed. “Come on, Ivy. Let’s get these put away, while the teenager’s neck.”
Ivy smiled and continued her journey to the kitchen. She hoisted her sacks onto the countertop. She understood what Joan meant. But she disagreed. She found Ethan and Lydia’s romance encouraging. Love could last. People really did live together well. It was possible, even if it wasn’t easy. Then again, she figured, if she’d been surrounded by parents who loved each other for her entire life, she might feel differently about it.
Joan watched Ivy, though Ivy was unaware. The girls had talked briefly about Grant Justice and about his odd declaration. It hadn’t been a proposal or even a promise. It was just an announcement of future possibilities. After a few short days together, Grant Justice decided he wanted to marry Ivy, someday. The whole thing was strange to Joan. She was certain Ivy must be holding something back. Something that would help Joan understand the sudden commitment.
Grant’s letters were intense. Ivy had only disclosed a morsel of them here and there. But her attachment to them made Joan positive that Grant Justice was serious in his intentions. She wondered where Ivy stood in hers. Maybe the quick trip to town would loosen Ivy’s tongue and get her talking about her feelings. Joan could hope.
Ethan blushed when he carted the rest of the girl’s grocery run into the kitchen. Lydia hadn’t resurfaced from the hallway. Instead, she hid her embarrassment in the girl’s bedroom while she rocked Scout into a deeper sleep.
“Hey, kiddo, it’s wonderful to have you home, but you don’t need to bust your Mom’s chops like that,” Ethan said.
Joan elbowed him playfully. “But if I don’t, who will? Ivy’s still too fresh to pick on her. And you’re too infatuated to tease her.”
“Still.” Ethan winked at his daughter. She returned the gesture. “How’d decorating go?” he asked them both.
“Maude and Scooby know what we want. It should be no problem for them to pull it off,” Joan said.
“I know, Maude. But who’s this Scooby?”
Joan stacked cans in the cupboard as she answered. “He’s the dishwasher.”
Ivy lined up cereal boxes. “But I just spotted him out by the fountain,” Ivy said.
Ethan looked out the front window of the townhouse. He only slightly cracked the curtains and let them fall. “You mean that skinny, tall kid?” Both girls responded in the affirmative. “I bet he’s the one who lives with Maude and Jacob Santiago?”
“We didn’t meet anyone named Jacob,” Joan explained.
“Maude calls him Santi. Everyone calls him Santi. Point is, they have this kid that lives with them and works at Con Fuego,” Ethan said.
“But he’s not their son,” Ivy asked.
“Nope. Not by blood.” Ethan returned to the kitchen and took one girl in each arm, hugging them both. “But that doesn’t mean they’re not a family.”
Ivy’s chest warmed. Joan winked at her, reached out a hand, and squeezed Ivy’s.
LATER IN THE MASTER Suite, Lydia’s hair cooperated for a change. She sat still, anxious, to keep herself clean and cute for the party. Through the slightly opened bathroom window, she smelled it. A vanilla tendril of smoke bled through the air and into the room. Lydia’s first instinct was to shut her window and shoot the smoker a grimace. Then the subtle fragrance of cigarette paper triggered her memory.
Lydia leaped from her bed, giggling. She sprinted from the master suite, vaulted down the stairs, rushed past the courtyard fountain, and into the alleyway between the townhouses and a small hotel behind it. She tripped on her own feet and tumbled full-on into the torso of a large man wearing jeans and a snap shirt.
“I knew it was you,” she said.
Chapter 4
ETHAN WATCHED HIS WIFE charge away as if the house were on fire. “Where is she going?” he asked Joan and Ivy. They shrugged in turn.
Kat stood near the fridge, observing from a distance. “It’s never good if Lydia is running,” she said.
Ethan’s eyes widened. He flashed back on the last year. Lydia had run away from and headfirst into murderers. He followed her out the door, hoping his wife wasn’t on another villain chase. He lost her at the fountain. Pausing, to guess Lydia’s whereabouts, he caught a whiff of smoke. His shoulders softened and his breathing returned to normal. His
wife wasn’t hunting bad guys. Ethan strolled around the corner of the townhouse and caught Lydia wrapped in the arms of another man.
THE BRANDES CREW ARRIVED at Con Fuego twenty minutes ahead of the other guests. Originally scheduled to arrive half an hour before the party, Flora was slightly flushed from her flurry to arrive at all. She straightened her skirt and fluffed her curls. Her children sat with their hands clasped on the booth in the patio area. All except Enoch. He was strapped to his father’s chest, sleeping.
The others had been threatened with weeks of extra chores and no television if they disturbed any guests of Con Fuego or moved a single centerpiece. Eden sat the straightest. Being the most determined not to lose her TV privileges and also near seconds from falling asleep from boredom. Kevin, Flora’s husband, paced the patio with Enoch.
A slender black woman wearing lavender lip gloss and glitter eye shadow handed menus to a couple sitting near the back corner of the restaurant. She straightened her thin gray tie before heading over to Flora.
“Hello,” she said, once she reached the hostess podium. “I’m Pepper. May I help you?”
Flora cleared her throat. “I’m with the Everett party on the patio. I’ll be here to help greet any arriving guests.”
Pepper smiled thinly. “Oh, ma’am, there’s no need for you to do that. I’m more than able to direct guests back to the patio.”
Flora didn’t mean to offend Pepper by volunteering her services. But she was assigned the task of greeter by Kat. She wasn’t sure if she should leave her duties to the busy hostess. Flora was choosing her wording when Pepper’s previous patrons flagged the hostess down. “One moment.” Pepper offered another hollow smile to Flora and then returned to the seated couple.
A well-dressed man exited the kitchen from the opposite end of the bar area and surveyed the dining room. He noticed Flora standing in expectation near the hostess station and hurried to her. “May I help?”
Flora explained her duties to the man who introduced himself as Stefan. “Please, Miss Flora, don't worry. I’ll have someone lead the guests to the patio and right over to you. You can greet them there.” Flora agreed, a bit flustered by the voices rising from Pepper’s party of two.
Stefan followed her attention. The couple grew louder and louder. Stefan excused himself after walking Flora to the patio and came to Pepper’s aid. Dave, the bartender, carried over a pitcher of water and poured glasses for Flora and her family. The arguing couple continued to raise their voices.
Flora held her water cup aloft as she peered at the kerfuffle in the dining room. She hoped to solve whatever the matter was before the other guests arrived.
“Don’t let them bother you,” Dave said. “That’s Mr. and Mrs. Sky. They come here at least once a week.”
Scooby entered, carrying a box of long matches. He eyed the statuesque children before catching the conversation. “Though I don’t know why they bother. They’re never happy here.”
Kevin Brandes paced closer to the glass dividing the patio from the dining room. “So, why do they keep returning?”
The bartender wrinkled his nose. “They used to own this place. Years ago. They have a love-hate relationship with Con Fuego.”
“Maude and Santi, too,” the younger man stated as he lit the huge fireplace.
Flora cast all-knowing eyes at her older children. She squinted, refocusing her intent on Eden. The little girl rolled her eyes and tossed herself onto the booth. Ever gave his mom a subtle nod. Message received. None of them would go near the fire.
“They hate Maude and Santi,” the fire starter said.
“That won’t stop them from being here from opening to close, though.” The older staff member turned to the younger and scoffed at his comfortable position. “Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen? Get!” The snap erupted both employees from their reverie and they returned to the main dining area without concluding the conversation.
Pepper and Stefan wrapped up their interlude with the dining couple and disappeared from view. Flora took her free moments to remind her brood to mind their manners and stay clear from the fire. “At 8 p.m., you’re free to leave with Ivy and Joan. They’ll take you back to the townhouse,” she reminded them. “If you keep in line.”
Her kids cast innocent looks at their mother. Kevin’s fatherly sternness cracked. He turned away to hide his laughing face. Flora bit her cheek to keep her cool. Her kids were too much for her. Their sense of humor reflected her own and made disciplining them impossible at times. She held her stone face long enough to be taken seriously and then retreated to her husband’s side.
THE MAN HOLDING LYDIA kissed the top of her head. “Sorry, Ethan. I didn’t know you were so close by,” he said. He kept eye contact with the sheriff, who only offered a shrug in response. The man dug his hands into his pockets and waited for the couple to finish their embrace.
Lydia turned teary and guilty eyes toward her husband. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I’ve ruined the surprise.”
“Who cares. I’m glad you’re happy.”
Lydia squeezed her brother’s hand and led him to Ethan. Harrison tossed his cigarette to the ground and smashed it with his boot. Ethan eyed the litter and deliberately shut off his cop brain.
“How long have you been planning this?” Lydia asked. “Joan knew, too. Didn’t she?”
Ethan didn’t answer. He watched his wife enjoy the moment. Lydia hadn’t seen her brother since his oldest son’s graduation, three years ago. Harrison kept to himself and didn’t like to travel. Getting him out to Ashton was only possible because he doted on his baby sister.
“He’s not the only surprise.” Ethan gestured toward the backdoor of the hotel.
A teenage boy with darkening blond hair strolled reluctantly into the alleyway. Ethan flagged him over, and the boy’s pace increased. He charged awkwardly into his aunt’s arms.
“Calvin, too?” She held him a minute longer than he wanted, but Calvin didn’t struggle. Aunt Lydia’s hugs reminded him of his mother’s hugs. He hadn’t had either in a very long time.
Lydia released him. She smeared mascara across her face as she wiped the joyful teardrops from her eyes. “Is your brother here, too?” She looked around Calvin’s back at the hotel exit.
Harrison cleared his throat. “Charles will be here tonight.”
Lydia squeezed Calvin’s hand and Harrison’s. “Since you’re out of the bag, already, why don’t you come over to the townhouse and we’ll walk to dinner together,” Ethan said.
Calvin nodded. Harrison hesitated. “I better not. I’ve got another surprise coming later. I need to hang out in the hotel room until it's ready.”
“I’ll come,” Calvin said. “I can’t wait to hear what Joan’s been up to.”
“Great,” Ethan said, clapping the boy on the back.
Lydia gave her big brother another trembling hug and giggled to herself. When she released him, it was only under his solemn oath for a speedy reunion at the restaurant. Ethan and Calvin waited for her.
Lydia couldn’t retrieve her normal breathing. She made it to the courtyard before having to sit on the edge of the fountain and purposely slow down her jittering pulse. Calvin sat beside her and held her hand. He’d done that since he was little when his family still lived in Honey Pot.
Calvin would slide into the church pew and snag Lydia’s hand. Before his brother could even try and before Joan could box him out. He’d stay like that all through the sermon. Lydia had forgotten how much she missed his affection. Calvin’s hands were much larger than the last time he sat by her at church. There were calluses from guitar practice and woodworking, but they were still just as gentle and encouraging. Lydia relished her reunion as she caught her breath.
“I’m sorry Charles isn’t here, yet,” Calvin said.
Lydia looked into his chocolate eyes. Calvin was always one for over apologizing. He worried over disappointing his loved ones. Even if the fault for the disappointment wasn’t his to bear.
Calvin’s face lit with Lydia’s approval. “Still. I know he’s on his way. He wouldn’t miss it.”
Lydia tried to steer the subject off of Calvin’s overburdened conscience. “Was he working?”
“Not really.” Something puzzled behind Calvin’s usually playful face. He looked around and waited for Ethan to retreat inside the townhouse. Even then, he leaned in closer to Lydia and whispered. “Dad and Charles haven’t been getting along.”
Lydia frowned. “That’s too bad. But I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
Calvin shook his head. “It’s about as serious as it can be right now.”
Lydia was about to ask for more information when Joan burst from the townhouse and squealed. “Calvin!” The eighteen-year-old leaped from his place beside Lydia and charged into a wrestling hug with his cousin.
“Hobbes!” Joan and Calvin exchanged noogies and friendly play punches before disappearing into the vacation rental. Their grown-up make-believe could be heard in the courtyard. Lydia nestled into the feeling of family. It was perfect. If she ignored Calvin’s worrying tone.
Chapter 5
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY,” ETHAN said. He didn’t take his arms from around Lydia’s waist all afternoon. After she discovered his biggest surprise, bringing Harrison and his boys closer to Honey Pot, the pressure was off. Dinner would be a piece of cake compared to keeping that secret. He planted a soft kiss on Lydia’s exposed neck. She shivered.
“Thank you so much.” Lydia locked eyes with her husband. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”
Ethan held open the door to Con Fuego so his wife could enter. “Nothing is going to ruin tonight.” A woman wearing muted mauve slacks and a gray sweater flashed past him. “She must be running late,” he said.
“Must be,” Lydia said.