Wine, Dine and Christmas Crimes by Maria Swan (brene brown rising strong .txt) 📕

Probably since the party we catered for the Dumonts. Don’t give me that pouting face. There wasn’t anything on paper until a week ago.”

“This is all wonderful, but what does all this have to do with me? What am I doing here?”

“Excuse me? Aren’t you happy to see us? Dior missed you. Wonder where he is, probably following Tristan around especially if he’s riding. And I hadn’t planned on staying over, I’m still wearing the same underwear. But now I can change.” She laughed and coughed.

Her mentioning her unmentionables clicked something in my head. “Wait, where is my bag? My phone...”

“It was in Tristan’s SUV, probably still there. And by the way it was his idea to drive you down here. I thought you’d thank me for it.” She winked, and I frowned. “Monica, I need to fix something for us to eat. The workers have a food truck that delivers. I’m putting together a late brunch for us before you two drive back.”

I nodded and walked with her while fishing around my bag. I found the phone and then my fingers felt the crispness of the business card Eva had given me when dropping me off at The Nest to retrieve my Fiat. “Need to make a phone call,” I said to Brenda.

“Okay. You talk; I cook. There, sit there so we can see each other,” she said.

The construction had come to a halt, so the kitchen area was quiet. I guessed everyone was somewhere eating. Except us. I punched the number, and the she-detective answered at the second ring.

“Hi, Monica, what’s up?” That derailed my thoughts for a second, of course, she had caller ID. This was real life, not a 70s rerun of Police Woman.

“Huh, well, I’ve been thinking. About that poor girl, you know, at The Nest. Was she—you know—naked? When she was found, I mean.” Silence. I heard shuffling, paper shuffling. Maybe she had to check? “She was wearing her bra and panties, and no, they weren’t a matching set.” Snickering. How ghoulish. “Now I have a question. Monica, why did you ask?”

“Because the clothing I found on the floor at the condo, well, it was generic clothing. I couldn’t even tell if it belonged to a young boy or a girl, and no underwear nor footwear. So that makes sense. Well, not really. How did Ana get into the pool area? First, you need a special key. I know because I couldn’t get in. And second, how do you get from the 13th floor to the 26th floor? You ride the elevator, right? In your underwear? It’s Christmastime, not Halloween.”

“Very good, Monica. However, there is another way to the pool, from the lounge. It’s used to serve drinks and food when they have big outdoor parties. And doesn’t use a special key. That’s all I can share with you, this is an active investigation. But those are very good questions. Don’t hesitate to call me if you think of something else.” That was the longest conversation I had ever had with Eve. Too bad she didn’t have any answers.

“I heard you mention Ana and The Nest. Is that the name of that woman they found floating in the rooftop pool?” I nodded to Brenda’s question although I didn’t know if she was found floating or what. Didn’t know who found her either. Boy, that must have been a shock.

“Is she, I mean, was she Kay’s maid?”

“Kay has a maid? Was she working the evening of the Christmas party?”

“Oh, no, no. I met her the afternoon I went to check out the premises. Remember I told you about the galley kitchen? I’m not saying that was necessarily the same person. The one I met, was a petite sort of gal, with the eyes.” She pointed to the exterior part of the eyelids.

“You mean Asian? You could be right. In the newspaper picture she looked very exotic, I thought. Was she like a live-in maid?”

“Monica, I have no clue. You need to ask Kay. Oh, certainly the police would know if that’s the same person.”

...We are all as liable, and I don’t know about you, but this is not the type of publicity I want my name associated with. Dale?

Was that why they needed a lawyer? Because the drowning victim was her maid? And what did Dale have to do with it? This was crazy. Okay maybe the poor girl was in the country illegally? She was dead. D E A D. I needed some air. But Dior once again appeared out of nowhere and threw himself against me.

“Hey, stop it.” I fell backward, in the arms of Tristan Dumont just as Angelique arrived from a back door to announce that she was ready to eat.

FOURTEEN

THE MOOD ON the drive back was quite different. Maybe it wasn’t the mood but the energy. The ever calm and collected Tristan Dumont exuded a hard to define edginess. As for myself, I felt overwhelmed by all the events present and future, sure to affect my daily life. Brenda was my rock. And Dior, God. I couldn’t bear to think about not having that goofy giant carousing around and going on walks...and of course the news about Kay and the dead girl—devastating.

How could the police not know about it? And what was the connection between Kay, Double Wide, and the dead girl? I had to run all this by someone just to make sure I wasn’t completely loony tunes.

Kassandra. That was it. I would speak to Kassandra.

Suddenly I became aware of Tristan’s side glances. I had forgotten I was sitting next to the object of my desire. Wow! Was it me or vice versa?

His hand stroked mine, ever so lightly. I turned my head and our eyes met for an instant, and my want of him took my breath away. The amber speckles dancing in his pupils made me forget Kay, the Nest, and everything connected to it.

“This has been a fun day,” I said, my lips so dry it