Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
P ack poker at the Neighborhood clubhouse was a different vibe from cards at Meemaw’s. A lot more brown leather, less wine, and more bourbon. Much higher testosterone levels. All that was missing was a No Girls Allowed sign sprayed with werewolf urine.
Buck McKinley waved me over, but not without a show of reluctance. “Come on in, Maya. Don’t be shy.” His voice dragged the words like a heavy bag of trash, which was no doubt what he considered me.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your game.”
Buck puffed on his cigar like he was trying to breathe new life into it.
“I thought the clubhouse had a no smoking rule,” I said. Who still smoked cigars anyway? Buck was a relic of a bygone era.
“I’m a werewolf. You think a cigar is going to ruin me?” He took a puff and blew a ring of smoke in my direction.
I waved away the foul odor. “I was thinking more of other people. You should try it sometime. ”
“This is how I relax and unwind,” Buck said. “Should I sacrifice something I love for the sake of others?”
“When it’s harmful to them, yes.” And here I thought his brother’s guitar playing was a public nuisance. Indoor cigar smoke was much worse.
“I assume you’re here about Belinda,” Buck said.
“You heard the news?”
“Miguel told us. Said you had to fish her out of Poseidon’s Potty. A shame. She was a hoot and a half. Any idea what happened?”
“Working on it. I understand she attended your party last night.”
“Wouldn’t be Belinda if she skipped a party. The mermaid was all sparkles all the time.” Buck puffed on his cigar until it was a mere stub.
“Did you happen to notice what she drank?”
“Nobody spiked the rum punch, if that’s your question. Belinda didn’t touch a drop last night. She was all amped up about some guy she met.”
This was news. “Any idea who?”
He refused to look at me. “Why would I ask? Didn’t care and not my business.”
His tone was the classic pretending-not-to-care-because-you-cared-too-much. “Remind me, Buck. Did you and Belinda used to date?”
The werewolf’s lips tightened around what was left of the cigar. “That’s overstating it,” he finally said, tossing the stub into an empty glass. “We had fun together on occasion, but that’s old news.”
His companions’ ears perked up. “I didn’t know that,” Sammy said. You’d never know from looking at the small, slender Black man that he shifted into an enormous wolf.
“Me neither,” a white-haired man added. He was pale and puffy, like a human marshmallow. I remembered he was a were-polar bear, but I couldn’t remember his name to save my life.
“There was nothing to know,” Buck said firmly.
“Why did the good times end?” I asked.
“For the same reason they always do. She wanted more and I wasn’t interested.”
“Define ‘more.’ Are we talking long strolls on the beach? A change in relationship status on social media?”
Buck looked ready to strangle me. If it weren’t for the multiple witnesses, he might have tried. “She wanted to move in together.”
Sammy nearly dropped his cards. “Whoa.”
“That was a serious suggestion for someone with whom you only had fun together on occasion,” I said.
“That was my attitude.” Buck tried to focus on his cards, but I could tell the conversation was distracting him. “Our relationship was only physical. She knew that.”
Yet somehow, she’d convinced herself it could be more. I felt a stab of sympathy for Belinda. When you weren’t fed love on a spoon, you learned to lick it off knives.
“How long ago was this?”
“A month, give or take. When I said I thought that was a bad idea, she cut me off.”
“But she came to your party.”
Buck grinned. “I think she was trying to make me jealous, inviting her new fella to meet her there.”
“Did it work?”
“If you’re asking me if I had anything to do with Belinda’s death, the answer is an unequivocal no. As the host of a very popular party last night, I didn’t leave my place until it was time for this game.”
Sammy looked at me, eyebrows drawn together. “I assumed Belinda died of natural causes. The way you’re interrogating Buck, I’m beginning to think there’s more to the story.”
“Just covering all the bases,” I said, inwardly cursing myself. Some pseudo-detective I was. Belinda wasn’t even the reason I was here.
“Oddly enough, we were just discussing who we’d call if we needed to hide a body,” the polar bear said.“Hypothetically, of course.”
Potentially interesting. “And?”
Buck gestured with his cigar. “Sammy voted for you.”
My gaze flicked to the elderly werewolf. “I’m flattered.”
Sammy grunted. “Don’t be. I figured I’d get in less trouble if the assistant security director was involved.”
“Why not Judd?”
Sammy studied the cards fanned out in his hand. “When have you known him to break the rules? I’m his friend and he refused to look the other way when I was riding two miles over the speed limit. In a golf cart . Gave me a ticket.”
His assessment of Judd was spot-on. And it was fair to say that these days, I put rules in the same category as suggestions.
Once upon a time, I’d been rigid, even more so than Judd, and I learned the hard way that no law or rule deserves unflinching, blind devotion.
Probably one of the reasons Judd and I made such a good team—we balanced each other out.
“Has anyone talked to Judd since the party?”
“In other words, did Judd get lucky?” Buck bellowed a laugh. “No, but I saw him having a heated conversation with his ex in my kitchen. Maybe they kissed and made up.” Buck wiggled his thick eyebrows .
It was possible. Judd had been in a semiserious relationship with Audrina Ludlow for two years.
He and the werepanther split six months ago, but in typical Judd fashion, he remained closemouthed on the subject whenever someone raised it.
I didn’t poke for answers because that would’ve opened the door for him to ask personal questions of me.
Another reason we made a good team—we respected each other’s boundaries.
“Did he mention having any plans today?” I asked.
“He wasn’t coming to poker,” Buck said, “I can tell you that much.”
“The only plan he mentioned to me is the one he has when the zombie apocalypse happens,” Sammy said.
“You mean if, not when,” Buck corrected him.
Sammy flashed a grin. “What can I say? I’m an optimist.”
“Dare I ask?”
“This island will be worth a fortune,” Sammy explained. “Everybody who’s anybody will want to live here, like the billionaires with their bunkers in New Zealand.”
“Except Evermore is a fraction of the size of New Zealand,” I pointed out. “We won’t have space.” We barely had enough space for the people who needed the island now, hence the extensive wait list.
The polar bear stared at his cards. “So Belinda was murdered, and Judd is missing?” He shook his head. “What a world.”
“I would classify Belinda as an unattended death at the moment.” I knew my efforts to stem the tide of gossip were futile, but a girl had to try.
“And I wouldn’t classify Judd as missing.
He didn’t show up for work, and he isn’t home.
That’s all the information I have at this point.
” A moment of uncomfortable silence followed my statement, prompting me to add, “What are you not telling me?”
“My guess is he left the island,” Buck finally answered, placing a card face up on the table. Despite the serious topic, his attention was devoted to the card game. Priorities.
“Left the island, as in took a trip to the mainland?” I asked.
“A permanent trip.”
“What makes you say that?”
Buck and the unnamed polar bear exchanged looks. “He was complaining more than usual lately,” Buck finally said. “To the point where I told him to stop or stay the hell home.”
“Were his complaints directed at anything in particular?” As far as I knew, Judd was perfectly content on Evermore.
Buck doubled down, on the cards and his position. “Corruption. Violations. Neighbors who think they’re above the law. That sort of thing.”
Okay, that part definitely sounded like Judd.
He was moral and ethical to a fault. He once accidentally walked out of the convenience store with a stick of beef jerky without paying.
When he realized it later, I had to persuade him not to arrest himself.
Instead, I made him return to the scene of the crime and pay with interest to ease his troubled conscience.
“Sounds typical for Judd,” I said.
“Sure. He rambles now and then,” Buck said, “but this was different. Like there was something specific bothering him.”
I tried to think whether I’d noticed anything similar. My last conversation with Judd was about the need for new coffee filters. Not exactly helpful.
“He didn’t offer any details?”
“Didn’t ask.”
That was the difference between men and women. A woman would ask. And a witch would pry until you cracked like a walnut. The best interrogators in the world were witches. Ask me how I know.
I surveyed the other players. “Does anyone have information to share about Judd? Anything at all, no matter how seemingly insignificant?”
“I told you what I know,” Buck said. “Can we get back to our game now? We only have the room for another hour before the mahjong group takes over.”
I noticed a slight Japanese man hunched over a small, round table in the corner. “What about you?”
Buck set his cards face down on the table with an exasperated sigh. “Kaito doesn’t play. He sits with us and works on his origami.”
“I like the company,” Kaito piped up. “I just don’t care for poker.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” I said. I was terrible at crafts, but I appreciated those who did them well. I sauntered over to the lurker. “How about you, friend? Anything to share about Judd?”
“No. He and I didn’t interact much.” Kaito kept his focus on the white paper he was currently crafting into a shape. “Do you like cats?”
“Yes. I have one.” Arguably, Jinx was more of a squatter.
Kaito raised the paper on his flat palm and released a gentle breath on the shape. Pearl-white fur. Four tiny paws .
“A perfect copy,” he said.