Kate Carlisle - Murder Under Cover

“It’s actually a thick custard, but we’re calling it flan tonight.” He waved his hand deprecatingly. “It seemed the most appropriate accompaniment to tacos.”

“You rock,” Suzie said, punching his arm.

“I’ll drink to that,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “Oh, sorry. Let me get you a margarita.”

“The perfect payment,” he said. “There’s whipping cream in the bag, too.”

“I think I love you.” Moving into the kitchen, I put Sergio’s bag in the fridge and pulled out the various bowls and containers of taco makings. Vinnie took charge of the margarita pitcher and filled everyone’s glasses.

“Brooklyn, you’re rubbing your neck,” Vinnie said. “Are you in pain?”

“No, no,” I insisted, and rolled my shoulders selfconsciously. “I took a long, um, walk today and must’ve tweaked something.”

“Something got tweaked,” Robin muttered, then snorted.

“Now, you’ll all be coming to the street fair tomorrow, won’t you?” Jeremy cried as he and Shiva joined us. “I go on at one o’clock, and my performance is going to wow the crowd.”

“We will be there,” Vinnie said, and turned to top off Shiva’s glass. “Are you going, Shiva?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said.

“Wonderful,” Vinnie cried. “Our friend Wingo has a booth that will feature several of our latest sculptures.”

Robin whipped around. “Are you kidding? I know Wingo. He has three of my torsos.”

Elated, Vinnie grabbed her hand and shook it. “We will be showing in the same booth. This is very exciting and should be toasted appropriately.”

“I’ll be in the buff,” Jeremy crowed. He held up his glass to clink with the others. “We’ll all be showing our best pieces.”

Sergio snorted as everyone laughed.

“You really going buck, Jeremy?” Suzie asked.

He winked at Robin. “I’ll be wearing some lovely accessories.”

“I can’t wait,” I said, placing the bowl of hot shredded beef at the far end of the bar. “Okay, vegans on the left, heathens on the right. Let’s eat.”

The next morning, Saturday, I rose early, made coffee, then took a full cup into my workshop and continued my work on the Kama Sutra. Today I concentrated on the batting used to pad the covers. I’d discovered bits of mold in the cotton material, so I would have to replace all of it after all, just to be safe.

Meanwhile, Derek spent the morning in my second bedroom, where he’d set up an office, making phone calls to England and working on some files he’d brought home. At ten, we met back at the coffeepot, both in need of a refill.

I took in Derek’s outfit as I filled our two cups, then poured a splash of cream in mine. He wore a pair of worn Levi’s that fit him to perfection, topped with a thin black cashmere sweater that was so soft, I wanted to curl up in his arms and stay there all day. As I considered making my move, Derek’s cell phone rang.

“Who’s calling you on a Saturday morning?” I asked, feeling a little grumpy about the distraction.

He glanced at the screen. “Jaglom.”

I grimaced. That was not the answer I’d expected to hear. For the past few hours, I’d managed to forget we were still embroiled in the throes of a vicious murder spree, still searching for a flash drive that too many people seemed ready to kill for.

And suddenly I remembered that Galina was free and Robin was in danger. Goose bumps covered my skin and I was chilled to the bone.

Time slowed as I watched Derek run his hand through his thick, dark hair in frustration. He said very little, leaving me to wonder what in the world Inspector Jaglom was telling him.

Derek ended the brief call. “They tracked down Galina again.”

“Good,” I said, encouraged by the news. “I hope they threw her back in jail.”

“No. Unfortunately, they found her dead.”

“At least I wasn’t the one who found the body this time,” I muttered, then wanted to swallow my tongue. I rubbed my face in disgust. “That was a self-centered, awful thing to say, wasn’t it?”

Derek slipped his hand around my neck and pulled me close. “Understandable, though, love. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“But a woman is dead, and that’s terrible. And we’re no closer to the truth than we were a week ago.” I buried my face in his shoulder briefly, then looked up at him. “But I’m still glad I didn’t find her body.”

“You do have an odd habit of attracting police attention, so it’s perfectly natural that you’d be relieved in this case.”

“I’m just tired,” I said, enjoying the feel of his soft sweater against my skin.

“You ladies were up late last night.”

“Sergio was regaling us with restaurant horror stories.”

“Did Shiva enjoy herself?”

“I think she did.” I was grateful for the change of subject. “She and Vinnie hit it off, which I knew they would. And Robin kept interrupting her whenever she tried to launch into one of her fabulous stories.”

“Why?”

“Because Robin thinks Shiva is a narcissist. She brings everything back to herself. Robin’s heard all the stories and didn’t want her to be the only center of attention. It’s an ongoing mother-daughter thing for them.”

Derek nodded. “I suppose that’s somewhat normal, but was it uncomfortable for you?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Shiva was on her best behavior and even made a little joke of it. And she was captivated by my workshop, so that was fun. She wanted to see inside every cabinet and kept marveling about how well organized everything was. Wanted to know every aspect of how I’d taken the Kama Sutra apart, which was a little weird. I never like to reveal that stuff to anyone. We must’ve spent an hour in the workshop. Sergio and everyone finally went home and Robin dozed on the couch until Shiva was ready to leave.”

His eyes narrowed. “It’s nice that she took such an interest.”

“It was. To be honest, I was surprised that Shiva came with Robin in the first place. They have never been close.”

“You said she was somewhat neglectful of Robin while you were growing up. Perhaps she’s making up for lost time.”

“Maybe. I think the attack on Robin really shook up Shiva.”

“Yes,” he said. “It must’ve shaken her badly for her to leave her home in India and come all the way back here.”

I studied him carefully. “You almost sound sarcastic.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I don’t like that look on your face.”

He gave me a twisted smile. “I’m sorry, darling, but it’s the only face I’ve got.”

“And it’s a very pretty face,” I said, patting his cheek. “But the expression on it has me curious.”

“You mean this one?” He made an exaggerated frown that added lots of wrinkles to his forehead.

“Yes, that one,” I said, laughing again. “What was that for?”

He merely smiled.

“Wait. Now I get it. You don’t trust Shiva?”

He held up both hands in a gesture that indicated he was weighing all the facts.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“We’ve been assuming that Rajiv has all the answers, but Shiva had a hand in this, too.” He considered for a moment, then said, “She gave the book to Robin, packed inside that satchel, right? Can you show it to me again?”

“Sure.” He followed me out to my workshop, where I opened the cupboard and pulled out the bag I’d stashed there.

We sat at the worktable as Derek searched every inch of the leather satchel again, running his hand carefully along the long strap and delving into the outer pocket. As he turned the bag inside out, he said, “Tell me again about the night Robin came to see you with the Kama Sutra.”