Hazy Grooms and Homicides (A Raina Sun Mystery #8) Read online

  Willie screamed and hit the water with a splat. Ouch.

  Po Po stopped her forward momentum by grabbing onto the table. Her hands splayed across the table and knocked the coffee mugs onto Detective Stafford’s lap. He jerked back and twisted his body away from the hot liquid. His chair wobbled and tipped into the pool, spilling the detective into the water.

  There was half a heartbeat of stunned silence. Po Po’s eyes were the size of saucers. Willie bobbed up from the water, still screaming. Detective Stafford swam toward the general manager. By the time the two downed rats got out of the pool, the Posse Club was nowhere in sight.

  Raina silently slinked away with suppressed laughter. So much for trying to find out what the two of them were chatting about in secret. She sighed. It looked like she was on her own. The Posse Club was no help after all.

  Raina made another trek to the exhibit hall, hoping to run into a suspect. She was expending a lot of energy going back and forth, and except for Willie, none of the suspects stayed in one spot for long. Without even being conscious of it, Raina had put all of the suspects on notice with her questions. It was much easier for them to track her down than the other way around. This was also more dangerous.

  They were in the shadows while she was highly visible. And she was doing this on the assumption that Matthew was keeping tabs on her and would keep her safe. In hindsight, this was foolish. Her safety was her responsibility, and in unfamiliar surroundings, she should probably take precautions like carrying the lipstick stun gun with her.

  Raina stopped by the costume booth. The saleswoman was friendly enough and a source of information. Maybe now that Claire Boucher’s death was public knowledge, she might be more forthcoming with gossip.

  The saleswoman was behind the booth showing a costume to a customer. The potential customer fingered the material and declared it was polyester and too cheaply made for the price. She left the booth in a huff when Joanne refused to sell the costume cheaper.

  Raina waved at the saleswoman. “You doing okay?” She twirled. “I love my costume.”

  The saleswoman gave Raina a weary smile. “Looks good on you. Where’s your grandma? Is she ready to buy another one yet?”

  Raina held out her hand. “The name is Raina Sun.”

  The saleswoman shook hands. “Joanne Littleleaf.”

  Raina frowned. The saleswoman must have been a redhead in her youth because the freckles that once covered most of her face had blended in with the age spots. Her white hair was braided and wrapped around the crown of her head. The emerald green eyes held a depth of compassion like she had suffered through life rather than enjoyed it. But no matter how Raina looked at Joanne, she didn’t look like a Native American.

  “Littleleaf is my married name, in case you’re wondering,” Joanne said.

  “Have you heard about what happened to Claire? The poor woman,” Raina said.

  “First, the convention is short on funds. And now this.” Joanne sighed. “This is bad luck. My husband wants us to pack up and leave, but I didn’t want to. We paid too much as it is for this booth. And we usually go into the black from selling our merchandise here. If we leave now, we’ll be hard-pressed to make a profit this year. And we need to make a profit this year.”

  “I’m sorry. My family owns small businesses, and I know what you mean about needing to make a profit. I thought you were doing this as a fun gig in your retirement.”

  Joanne laughed. It sounded harsh and bitter. “We have been doing this for the last twenty years. Being on the road and trying to raise a family is hard. We go from show to show. Now that the kids are grown, we’re still doing this because we can’t afford to retire.”

  Raina winced inwardly. The increased fee must have added to the Littleleafs worry like a ton of concrete. “Where’s your husband now?”

  “I’m not sure. He went to find Brian Anderson to see if we could get a partial refund on our fee. There’s a lot less foot traffic than in previous years. It’s obvious that Claire Boucher didn’t do a good job advertising the show.”

  Raina pretended to glance around uneasily. “I’m spooked by the thought of a murderer walking among us. Who do you think killed Claire? She didn’t seem like the type of woman to have a lot of enemies.”

  Joanne thought for a moment. “There’s the Japanese woman who works with Claire at NASA. She is bad-mouthing Claire to everyone. And there’s Brian Anderson. The convention lost ten thousand dollars. The loss will go into next year’s budget as well. It’s a problem that will follow him around until it’s paid off.”

  Raina frowned. “Is organizing the convention Brian Anderson’s full-time job?”

  “I don’t know how it works. He organizes one here on the West Coast and one on the East Coast. I assume he does other events.”

  “Is the convention a for-profit event?”

  Joanne chewed her lower lip, thinking about Raina’s comment. “Actually, I think it’s nonprofit. The fees are supposed to help fund a rock and roll memorabilia museum. There’s a board for the museum, so I think it’s a nonprofit.”

  “And Brian has been doing this for years?”

  “At least for the last fifteen years. That’s how long I’ve been coming here. Like I said, I bet he’s mighty upset over the missing money. It wouldn’t surprise me if he killed Claire for ruining the convention.”

  “Oh, I saw something interesting at the Lone Star Saloon last night,” Raina said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Do you know Willie Machado? The general manager of this hotel-casino?” At Joanne’s nod, Raina continued, “She was in costume. A skimpy little dress with a long black wig.” She paused. “She was sitting on Brian’s lap, and they were pawing at each other.”

  Joanne’s eyes widened. “From the way Willie talks to Brian, I thought she would rather poke him in the eye.”

  “Oh, really?“

  “Willie threatened to stop reserving space for the convention last year because of all the drinking and partying. It’s a rock and roll convention. The partying kind of comes with the territory.”

  “Maybe this year she’s trying it out for herself. Has the convention always been at this hotel?”

  Joanne nodded. “Yes, but Willie has only been the manager for the last two years. I wonder if Brian seduced her so the convention could stay next year.”

  “Do you think Willie has anything to do with Claire’s death?”

  “What motive would she have for killing Claire?”

  “I don’t know. But isn’t it strange she’s suddenly friendly with Brian?” Raina asked.

  “Not really. Brian can be quite a charming man. He would have to be to get all these vendors lining up to donate items for the gift baskets and money for his museum.”

  “Gift baskets?”

  Joanne pointed to the stage at the front of the room. “You see all those gift baskets up there? They’re all donations. Did you drop in your raffle ticket for the ones you want?”

  “Where do I get the raffle tickets?”

  “Everyone gets five raffle tickets as part of the fee, but you can purchase more on the stage. Brian is usually there with the baskets to keep an eye on things and sell more tickets.”

  Raina thanked Joanne for the chat and left when a customer came to ask about a velvet cape. She made her way to the stage, but it was closed for the day. A sign said it would be open tomorrow from eight to noon. She made a mental note to come back in the morning. At least now she knew where to find one of the suspects. If only she could smoke Gloria out for questioning.

  13

  Another Evening Surprise

  Raina jerked upright in bed. She glanced around the dark room. What had woken her? Her eyes flew to the doorway. A thin crack of light from the hallway spilled into the dark room. Someone had opened the door to her room and found it secured by the swing bar lock. After what happened with Claire Boucher, Raina wasn’t taking any chances with someone creeping into her room. The person started to close the door.

/>   She jumped out of bed, grabbed the lipstick stun gun and powered it on. It crackled to life, but her grandma’s snoring must have hidden the sound from the intruder. She tiptoed up to the door, keeping away from the line of sight.

  The door closed and opened again to a small sliver. A plastic card slid in and prodded at the swing bar lock. Was this the “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging outside on the doorknob? The flexible card bent around the swing bar and nudged it open. This person knew what he or she was doing.

  Po Po continued to snore with no care in the world, but Raina’s heartbeat sounded loud in her ears. She could scream and alert the person on the other side of the door. He or she would probably beat a hasty retreat at finding someone awake in the room.

  Raina kept silent. She had no idea who would want to come into her room in the middle of the night, and she didn’t care. She would figure it out once the intruder was no longer a threat.

  The door widened and swung open. When Raina saw a hand holding a penlight, she lunged forward and touched the exposed skin. She winced as the hand tightened on the penlight. The hand tried to jerk back, but Raina pushed against the door with her body, trapping the hand in place and keeping it connected to the stun gun. She only had to hold on for two or three seconds.

  When the hand went slack, she opened the door and brought up the heel of her palm, connecting it with the intruder’s face just like her fiancé had taught her. His head flew back, hitting the doorframe. Bam!

  With the hallway light behind him, his face was hidden by the shadow. Raina kicked him in the groin for good measure.

  The man doubled over and fell to one knee. His breaths came out in loud heaving puffs. When he could finally speak, he gasped, “It’s me, Rainy. Stop.”

  Raina hesitated, her fist suspended in midair. She stepped back, bouncing on the balls of her feet, ready to zap him again when his words registered. “Matthew?”

  “I don’t think we can have children after this,” he wheezed. “And I think you broke my nose. Is it bleeding?”

  Raina’s hand flew to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t know it was you.”

  “I need an ice pack and a tranquilizer dart. Just put me out of my misery. You can apologize later,” Matthew said through gritted teeth. His voice was tight with pain.

  Raina grabbed his hand and helped him to the sofa. She flicked on a lamp. “You’re not bleeding, but your nose is swollen. Do you want me to take a look at your groin?”

  Matthew groaned and clutched his hands tighter between his legs. “Ice.”

  Raina grabbed the ice bucket on top of the coffee table. “I’ll be back.”

  She ran to the ice machine down the hall. She felt cold and hot at the same time. Horrified at what she did and proud at the same time. She had taken on her fiancé and won. This was no small feat.

  When Raina got back into the suite, Po Po was already up. There was a bottle of Tylenol on the coffee table next to a glass of water. Matthew was stretched out on the sofa with his eyes closed.

  “He doesn’t have a broken nose,” Po Po said. “But he wouldn’t let me examine his wee-wee.”

  Raina used the liner bag of the ice bucket to make an ice pack. She handed the bag of ice to Matthew with chagrin. “Well, at least we know Po Po’s stun gun works.”

  Her grandma snorted in amusement. “So you took out your fiancé, huh?”

  “How was I supposed to know it was him? I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Claire Boucher,” Raina said.

  Matthew’s eyes flew open. “What happened with Claire?” His voice still sounded strained.

  Raina told him everything that had happened since she last saw him—how Claire Boucher broke into her room, her dead body hidden in the laundry room, and what she found out about the suspects.

  Matthew’s eyes grew large with each new reveal. “Of course, she wouldn’t catch a flight home or stay away from a murder,” he mumbled under his breath.

  Raina lowered herself to the ground until the two of them were at eye level. “What is going on? I thought you were supposed to help with a security upgrade, not get involved with stolen information from NASA.”

  Po Po leaned forward eagerly.

  “I need a good night of sleep,” Matthew said, giving Raina a pointed look. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Raina sighed and gave Po Po a sideways glance. She wouldn’t tell any secrets with her grandma nearby either, so she didn’t blame him for his reluctance. “You better be here when I wake up in the morning. If you sneak off while I’m asleep, I might have to beat you again.”

  Po Po snickered.

  Matthew closed his eyes and fell asleep before Raina had a chance to admonish him again. She tucked a blanket around him and clicked off the lamp directly over the sofa.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Raina said to her grandma.

  “Wow, you really beat him badly,” Po Po whispered in awe. No one is going to recognize him with that swollen nose. And by tomorrow, he’ll probably have a black eye.”

  Raina winced. She checked the time on her cell phone. It was two in the morning. “Goodnight.”

  She climbed into bed, throwing the covers over her head to signal she didn’t want to chitchat. If given half a chance, her grandma would want a blow by blow of what happened. As Raina closed her eyes, a knot loosened in her chest, and she could take a deep breath for the first time. Matthew was back.

  The next morning, Po Po lingered in her morning preparations, hoping to join in on the much-needed conversation between Raina and Matthew. Finally at eight thirty, Raina shooed her grandma out of the room.

  While Matthew was in the shower, she fixed a simple breakfast for them: coffee, yogurt from the refrigerator, and a banana each. Without food in their systems, they might get into an argument over something silly.

  When Matthew came out of the shower, Raina patted the seat next to her on the sofa. Instead of joining her, he leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom and crossed his arms. He gave her the police officer stare that probably would have made an innocent person confess to anything.

  Raina raised an eyebrow. His nose was still red and angry looking. His left eye had darkened into a bruised ring. With a wig and the right clothes, he might be unrecognizable. “Let’s eat first.” She finished her last bite of yogurt and reached for a banana.

  “Why didn’t you go home?” Matthew said.

  Raina wiggled the peeled banana. “I’m still eating. Come join me.”

  Matthew sighed and trudged over. When he reached for the cup of coffee, she averted her gaze to hide her smile. They ate in companionable silence for the next few minutes. At one point he reached across the sofa and patted Raina’s thigh. She smiled at the gesture, knowing he had forgiven her for their late-night scuffle.

  “Now that you had a good night of sleep and I fed you, it’s your turn to tell me what’s going on,” Raina said. “Why did you disappear? And why did you try to sneak back in last night? If you had called, I wouldn’t have to take such drastic measures.”

  “I trust you with my life, Rainy, but what I tell you is strictly confidential. I can’t have your grandma riding in like the Lone Ranger. Are we clear on this?”

  She nodded.

  “You’re already halfway there with figuring out what’s going on. Do you want to start and I’ll fill in the blanks?”

  Raina considered his words. She wondered if this was a trick question, but she loved the idea of presenting everything to him tied up in a neat bow. As silly as it sounded, she still wanted to impress her fiancé with her intellectual finesse.

  ”Okay, I’ll start,” she said. “You were hired to help with a security upgrade just like you told me, but I made the assumption it was for the hotel-casino. Now that I have more information, I know it’s for NASA.”

  “There have been several security leaks over the past year,” Matthew said. “They believed someone within the organization was stealing their top-secret research. Once they narrow
ed it down to a handful of people, they brought me in.”

  “But why you? I didn’t know you had connections in NASA.”

  “I don’t. A friend recommended me for the job. We were in the Marines together.”

  “And Claire Boucher and Gloria Tanaka are on your list of suspects?”

  Matthew nodded. “Except at the time, we didn’t know whether the two women were in cahoots with each other or if Gloria was a victim.”

  “Gloria came to the convention to confront Claire about stealing her research from her unlocked computer—”

  “Which shouldn’t have happened in the first place. They were supposed to lock their computer anytime it was not in use,” he said.

  “There’s not much you can do to combat carelessness. I’m assuming you had arranged to purchase the stolen information from Claire Boucher. And you were supposed to pick up the USB stick from her in the laundry room on the morning of her death.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “Yes, we intercepted her communications with the Russians. How did you find this out?”

  “The video surveillance in the service hall. Now here’s the part where you have to fill me in. I’m assuming Claire’s death threw a monkey wrench into your plans. What have you been doing the last few days?”

  “First, I had to figure out if Claire’s death has anything to do with the Russians and national security,” Matthew said.

  “So you did leave town.”

  “Only for a day to do a debriefing. And once it was clear this was a plain old homicide case, the feds let me come back. They still want to get the USB stick. Claire said she had dropped it off with you?”