“It looks like a whorehouse in here,” I squinted at the artwork on the far wall. It was an abstract painting made to look like a vagina. I moved to the next one. And the next. Vaginas had us surrounded. “What’s with all the vajayjays?”
“Maybe this is thereceivingroom?” Flint raised an eyebrow. It was my turn to roar with laughter.
Whatever got under his skin earlier today disappeared for a few minutes as we waited for the lady of the whorehouse to grace us with her presence.
I was just about to suggest we leave when the doors opened. Echo Cruz swanned into the room wearing nothing but a black bikini. The triangles of the top barely covered the nipples of her surgically-enhanced breasts.
Welp, at least she was wearing black.
“Celia,” Echo floated over to me in a cloud of toxic perfume. “It’s been too long. Horrible business, this stuff with Tavi?”
I endured a ridiculous hug, then wondered how long it would take to get her smell out of my clothes. “Yes. Horriblestuffindeed. You know, him getting murdered and all.”
She turned toward a side table for a tissue. Oh, so it’s athongbikini. Or, maybe butt floss. Yep. When you have a surgically-enhanced butt, you want to make sure you clean between your cheeks because you never know what could get stuck in there.
Like lint. Or bad decisions.
I glanced at Flint. He tracked Echo’s every movement. Why wouldn’t he? He’s a red-blooded man with a penis. And thinking about his penis made me look at his crotch. And, God help me. I leaned closer to take a look. He was not as excited about Echo’s lack of clothing as I suspected he would be.
When I looked back at his face, Flint was staring at me funny. I flushed deep red and averted my eyes. He huffed a laugh once, then turned to Echo, who dabbed the non-existent tears from her eyes.
“Echo, this is Flint Mendota,” I motioned to my hulking partner. He shook Echo’s hand. “We’re here to talk to you about Octavio’s murder.”
She sat down on a wretched settee. Flint and I squeezed into one across from her.
“I found him,” she whispered, folding her hands. “I found him inside the front door in all that… blood.”
I watched her expressionless face. Too much Botox or no emotion? It was hard to tell.
“What do you remember about that day?” Flint prompted.
“Tavi acting super strange,” Echo sniffed. “He’s been acting strange for weeks. I was starting to think he was cheating on me.”
I snorted. “I can relate.”
She looked confused. Did she not know Octavio cheated on every one of his wives? I said nothing else.
“Anyway,” Echo brightened. “I knew he’d been working so hard, so I suggested we have a special dinner that night to rekindle our romance.”
I might have thrown up in my mouth a little bit.
“How did he react to that suggestion?” Flint tilted his head.
“He seemed excited about it,” Echo dabbed her eyes. “He even offered to send me to the spa for a full day of pampering. Tavi likes me smooth, down there, if you know what I mean.”
Oh, yeah. That was definitely vomit in my mouth.
Flint cleared his throat. “What else do you remember?”
Echo sneered at me. “He is pissed at Celia.”
I frowned. “Why me?”
She shrugged. “Says you owe him money or something.”
“I owed him nothing,” I fumed.
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “I don't pry into his business. I just know he went into his office after that, slammed the door, and threw a few things at the walls. I didn’t stick around to find out why he was mad. I knew he’d get it out of his system before our dinner date.”
