Chapter 18
18
7:50 a.m. Saturday, November 2
N ick woke up feeling amorous. Which is to say he woke up feeling like he normally did.
They’d stayed up late watching The Thin Man on an ancient laptop with a CD drive. Riley had been right, as usual. He’d loved the black-and-white private investigator with his fancy mustache and snarky banter with his wife. He definitely needed to grow a mustache. It was a sign from the universe.
Nick’s plan for the perfect day came together as Riley snuggled closer to him in her sleep. They would enjoy a little morning delight, fall back to sleep for another hour or so, then he’d collect their check from Griffin and go buy that new TV again so they could watch the next movie.
It would be the perfect day…as long as he didn’t think too hard about the fact that they shared a roof with several unhinged over-the-hill individuals who had trashed the house with an aggressive happy hour.
He was just putting step one of his plan into motion by waking Riley up with sexy neck nuzzles when the bedroom door flew open and bounced off the wall.
“What in the fucking fuck?” he demanded, yanking the covers over his naked lower half. No matter how many times he went to bed wearing shorts or underwear or pajamas, he always woke up naked. His sleep stripping had been a source of teasing in junior high during sleepovers, but as an adult, Nick found sleeping naked saved time.
Lily smiled serenely at them, a tray laden with breakfast foods clutched in her hands.
“Come back and murder us tomorrow,” Riley said sleepily.
Burt lifted his head with a grumbly yawn.
“I made you two breakfast in bed,” Lily said, tottering into the room and sloshing orange juice everywhere.
Nick face-planted on his pillow. “Riley, will you please explain to Lily that she can’t just barge into people’s bedrooms even if she does have food?”
“Lily, you can’t just barge—is that bacon?” Riley asked, sitting up.
“A moat. I should have dug a moat,” Nick complained, even though the bacon did smell good.
Riley patted his sheet-covered ass. “What’s with the hotel-style service?” she asked Lily with a yawn.
“Oh, I’m the distraction while everyone else cleans up so you don’t realize what a mess we left after happy hour,” she explained.
“Too late. We already saw it. You’re all getting evicted,” Nick said.
“Is there anything more delectable than a grumpy, naked man in the morning?” Lily asked.
“I can think of several things. One of which I was about to do before you kicked our door in,” he complained.
“This bacon is good, Lily,” Riley said.
“I know! I nibbled on two slices on the way up. Scootch over,” their elderly room service attendant ordered.
Riley wriggled into the center of the bed, and Lily hopped in next to her, propping herself up on pillows. “Ahh. Isn’t this nice?”
The mattress dipped again as Burt belly-crawled onto the bed, wriggling his way toward the breakfast tray. The king-size bed was getting stupidly crowded.
Nick gathered the comforter around him with an irritable flourish and got out of bed. “I’m gonna hit the gym so I don’t hit anything else,” he said, looking pointedly at Lily.
“You guys should have a TV in here,” Lily said.
He growled and slammed the bathroom door.
Ignoring the roar of the vacuum cleaner and the clink of glass bottles coming from the sunroom turned rave, Nick stalked into the kitchen, muttering about roommates and boundaries.
Gabe stood at the sink, serenely washing the dishes.
“Hey,” he said, slapping a hand to Gabe’s shoulder. Turning, the man mountain gripped Nick’s forearm with one slippery bear paw, twisted, and efficiently tossed him to the floor.
Nick landed with an oof .
“What was that for, you hairless Chewbacca?” he wheezed, fighting to get the air back in his lungs.
“Oh dear. I seem to have misunderstood. I thought you wanted me to demonstrate an effective self-defense move,” Gabe said innocently.
“Why in the hell would you think that? I just wanted to talk to you,” Nick rasped.
“Because you were so easily defeated by tiny birds last night. Do you not remember? Perhaps the trauma is affecting your short-term memory.”
“Shit. You’re being sarcastic, aren’t you?”
“Riley said sarcasm is a tool for humor. I am being amusing,” Gabe explained.
“Fuckin’ hilarious.” Nick accepted the gigantic hand Gabe offered and let the man pull him to his feet.
“I agree. I am only sorry I did not have an audience to appreciate my humor. What is it you wished to discuss?”
Nick cracked his neck on his way to the coffeepot. “I have a question on a hypothetical situation. No sarcasm required.”
“Please share your hypothetical situation.”
He reached for a mug. “Say someone has a psychic in their life, and they need to keep something from her.”
“If we are discussing my very good friend Riley, I do not like this conversation.”
“Relax, hot-air balloon,” Nick said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
“I do not understand that particular reference.”
“I don’t know. Balloons are big. You’re big. I just woke up. Gimme a break.”
“Ah. I see. Please continue with the topic I am not enjoying.”
“Say I want to surprise Riley with something. How does a mere mortal go about surprising a psychic?”
“Is this a good surprise?” Gabe asked with suspicion.
“It better be. I want to do something completely out of character.”
“You wish to become well-mannered and charming?”
Gabe’s insult game was strong in the morning. Nick didn’t care for it.
“A, I’m charming as fuck. B, I’m sure as hell not going to tell you since you basically broadcast the NC-17 version of your date with her sister to Riley yesterday.”
“I did not mean to share my intimate memories with Riley. But my joy made it difficult for me to concentrate.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I’m feeling pretty damn joyful myself, and I want to surprise her.”
“Riley is my friend. I merely tolerate you. If this is something that could hurt my friend, I will stop tolerating you.”
It was as close to a threat as Gabe got, and Nick appreciated him for it.
“Understood. This is a good surprise. I hope. I mean, it should be. I think. But the important thing is I have to figure out how to keep it a surprise.”
Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. His forearms looked like bulging pythons. “I would like to consider your request,” he decided finally. “I do not want to do anything that would make me disloyal to Riley.”
“Fine. But think fast, because otherwise I’ll just do it, make a mess of it, ruin everything, and then blame you.”
“That does sound like something you would do.”
Nick sighed through clenched teeth. “Look. I appreciate and respect your loyalty to Riley. It’s something we have in common. So you might as well hurry the fuck up and get on board, because I’m not going anywhere. Riley’s it for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go relieve her ex-husband of a large sum of money.”
With that, he took his coffee and left.
Since it was still early, Nick hit the gym first and ran through a workout on autopilot. All through weight training, he thought about Riley and how she was too good for him and how he needed to make sure she forgot about that fact. When he hit the treadmill, he thought about private detective Nick Charles and was in the middle of wondering whether he should grow a mustache first and then buy a fedora, or vice versa, when his cousin wheeled up next to the treadmill.
“You look confused and pissed off like you’re back in trigonometry class,” Brian observed.
Nick smacked the Stop button on the treadmill and bent at the waist to catch his breath. “Thinking about hats,” he panted.
“You’re a weird dude, you know that, coz?”
“So I’ve been told.” Nick swiped his sweat towel over his face. “Hey. Totally innocent question here. How did you convince Josie you were the one?” His cousin had sowed his wild oats all over the damn place until he’d fallen for Josie.
Brian shrugged. “After I figured out she was the one, I just kept her too distracted to think about what a long shot I was on paper.”
“Did anyone try to convince her she could do better?”
“Literally everyone. Including my own mother.”
“Classic Aunt Nancy.”
“Your actions speak louder than other people’s words. Gotta make ’em count.”
Nick was aware that his actions in recent weeks had spoken up too loud against him.
“Why? You fuck up again already?” Brian asked.
“No, I didn’t fuck up again, asshole.” Unless getting flopped by a chicken counted. “I’m just looking to up my relationship game.”
“Ah, you’re looking to dazzle Riley into forgetting your flaws.”
“Yeah. That.”
Brian pulled a water bottle out of the bag on the back of his chair. “Anytime I’m a dumbass, I just buy Josie a cool new weapon for her collection.”
Nick threw the towel over his shoulder. “You’re really unhelpful, you know that?”
“See, if you were Josie and you just said that, I’d be on the phone with my weapons guy and I’d be out of the doghouse by noon.”
“Men are idiots,” Nick mused.
“Hell yeah, we are,” Brian agreed.
“Hey, do you think I could pull off a fedora?”
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m here to see your boss’s checkbook,” a freshly showered Nick said when assistant to the asshole Henry opened Griffin’s front door. Bella’s tiny dog wore a crystal-encrusted collar and yapped at his ankles.
The assistant winced. “I’m afraid Mr. Gentry isn’t here.”
“Yesterday, I told him to be here. Half an hour ago, I texted him to be here. Where is he?”
“I–I’m not sure. He was looking at his phone, and then said he had an important meeting. He left in a hurry.”
“An important meeting on a Saturday morning that he didn’t need his assistant to attend.” Nick strolled across the threshold into the foyer. “Sounds suspicious to me. Especially if he left immediately after I texted him to tell him I was coming to collect.”
The dog pranced over and sniffed his boots before resuming her yaps.
Nick scooped up the piece of fluff and cradled her to his chest. “You know what? I think I’ll just wait here for your boss.”
Henry’s eyes widened. “Look, I know Mr. Gentry is really good at avoiding paying people, and he can be kind of a horrible tool, but that’s no reason to hurt a dog.”
“What?” The dog slurped Nick’s chin with an enthusiastic kiss. “I’m not going to hurt a dog.”
“Oh, so you’re going to hold her for ransom. Makes sense. I should have thought of that.”
“First of all, if I was going to intimidate Gentry into paying me, I wouldn’t ransom his fiancée’s dog. I’d throw him in another dumpster or pick him up by the lapels so his tiny feet were dangling off the floor. Second, Gentry’s not paying you either?”
“Technically, I’m just an intern, which apparently means he’s free to abuse me as he sees fit,” Henry explained.
“Here’s a thought: Why don’t you just quit?”
“My parents said if I stuck out an internship until the end of the year, they’d front me the money to take my punk band on tour.”
Nick eyed Henry’s thick nerd glasses and his pristine shirt.
“I know. I look more likely to fix your printer network settings than front a punk band.”
“It’s the glasses,” Nick told him. “I wonder if your parents would still honor the deal if something unfortunate happened to your employer?”
“I don’t know. I guess I could check with them.”
Just then, Bella swept into the room in a pink robe with feathers at the cuffs and hem. “There’s my little sweetie weetie! Mommy needs her kisses before she goes to the spa.” She plucked the dog from Nick’s arms and placed several loud kisses on its head, adding fresh lipstick stains to the white fur.
“I’ll just go be…uh…somewhere else,” Henry said and scurried away.
“Your fiancé owes me money. I’ve come to collect,” Nick said.
“Griffin’s not here,” Bella said with wide guileless eyes. She looked like an anime character.
“I don’t care if the check has his signature or yours on it.”
“Oh, I can’t write checks out of Griffin’s accounts. Not until I’m officially Mrs. Gentry. Speaking of, do you have any opinions on napkin rings? I had decided on these beautiful brushed gold ones, but Griffin said they made his hands look too small.”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bella, where did Griffin go?”
“Gosh. I don’t know. He was gone when I got up. I take my beauty rest very seriously.”
“That’s great. I care so much about what you’re saying,” Nick said dryly. “Can you just call him and tell him to get his ass home?”
Bella cocked her head to the side. The dog did the same. Both stared at him with blank eyes.
“Hmm, I never thought of that. I guess I could call him,” she said finally.
Nick massaged his temples. “That would be great.”
She handed the dog back to Nick and produced a bejeweled phone from the pocket of her robe.
“Griffin Gentry, central Pennsylvania’s favorite newscaster, speaking,” Griffin’s assholey voice sang from the speaker of Bella’s phone.
“Griffy, Nick Santiago is here. He says he’s waiting for a check.”
“Tell him I’m very busy and important. And if he won’t leave, make something up about me winning a Nobel Prize for handsomeness. I swear, poor people have nothing better to do than ask rich people for handouts.”
Nick’s blood pressure spiked into head-exploding territory.
Bella turned to him and smiled. “Griffin said?—”
“I heard what Griffin said,” Nick said, snatching the phone from her hand. “Now you listen to me, Gentry. First of all, paying for services rendered is not a handout. It’s how the fucking world works. Just because you were born with a trust fund shoved up your ass doesn’t mean you get every damn thing for free. Second, if there were Nobel Prizes for handsomeness, I’d be a hell of a lot higher on the list than you. Now drive your pint-size ass back here, and blow the cobwebs off your checkbook, you cheap, narcissistic bastard.”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” Griffin squeaked.
“I’ll do more than talk to you like that if I don’t have a check with your name on it in my hand by the end of the day.”
“What do you think of my new bustier, darling? Do you like the leather?” a throaty, feminine voice asked on the other end of the call.
“I’m being called into an urgent meeting for very important, successful people,” Griffin announced. “Bye!”
Nick handed the phone back to Bella, who showed no reaction to her husband admiring another woman’s lingerie. “Your husband-to-be is a dick.”
Bella waved a dismissive hand. “He’s just entitled, silly. It’s not poor Griffin’s fault that he’s always been given everything he ever wanted or that people do nice things for him for free.”
Nick was tired of the Griffin Gentrys of the world getting away with their bullshit. This time, he wasn’t going to get away with it.
He handed the dog back to Bella. “Here. Take this. I need to use your restroom.”
“Of course. The powder room is over there through the trophy room. That’s for guests. There’s another bathroom off the kitchen, and that’s for the help. You can take your pick.”
“Due to mysterious religious and political beliefs, I can only use restrooms on the second floor,” Nick announced. He didn’t wait for a response and jogged up the staircase, taking the stairs two at a time.
“Staffy! La La needs her yum-yums, and I need my spa flip-flops,” Bella called behind him.
Nick veered off into the primary bedroom suite and headed through the bathroom into the closet to Griffin’s accessories bureau, an entire dresser full of belts, watches, ascots, and…
“Bingo,” he said when the next drawer he opened revealed a velvet jewelry tray.
The hideously huge cuff links winked at him from an open Peabody Jewelry box. Tucked in the drawer under the box were several past due notices from Wilfred’s jewelry store.
“Asshole,” Nick muttered, pocketing the cuff links. He was just getting ready to close the drawer when something else caught his eye. Griffin Gentry’s passport. He flipped it open and rolled his eyes. Even the man’s passport photo was airbrushed.
Curiosity got the best of him, and he flipped through a couple of pages. Lots of Caribbean travel. He also found several stamps for Brazil and a recent one for Colombia.
The stop-doing-stupid-things voice in his head that sounded a lot like Riley was getting louder, so Nick replaced the passport and closed the drawer.
He was almost out of the bathroom when Griffin’s gold-plated electric toothbrush caught his eye from the vanity. Whistling, he plucked it out of the holder and swirled it around the toilet bowl twice. Feeling a little more cheerful, Nick jogged back downstairs where he found Bella hand-feeding the dog what looked like clumps of granola.
“I’m going to go,” Nick said as he opened the front door. “But don’t think for one second that means I’m giving up. Gentry will pay up if I have to rip the money out of his spray-tanned skin.”
“Okay, bye!” Bella said, waving with the dog’s paw.
Nick turned to exit but found the way barred by none other than Kellen Pain-in-the-Ass Weber.
“Sergeant Jones, make note that Nick Santiago was witnessed harassing the fiancée of the intended victim and verbally threatening the intended victim.”
“Noted,” Mabel Jones said wearily.
“What do you mean ‘intended victim’?” Nick demanded.
“We’re investigating yesterday’s incident as a homicide, Santiago. And you just bumped yourself up the suspect list.”