Chapter 22
“When I asked for a smokin’ hot love life, this is not what I had in mind.”
-Celia
Burned to the ground.
There was nothing left of Octavio’s house. All the penis and balls landscaping, the vagina paintings, the garish decor - gone. Burned to a crisp.
Flint and I stood on the front lawn as the arson investigator called in his report. Firefighters mopped up hot spots. Neighbors gathered in the streets, sharing gossip and gawking at the wreckage.
Joke’s on them. This saved me a lot of trouble bulldozing the entire thing to the ground.
Unfortunately,this saved me a lot of trouble bulldozing the entire thing to the ground, which meant I was - once again - suspect number one.
“Ms. Cruz?” Detective Rosenthal was Johnny on the Spot. “Could you step this way for a few minutes?”
Flint followed us to a quiet corner of the yard, away from prying eyes.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I’ll just place a quick call to my lawyer.”
“No need,” Rosenthal held up his hand. “It doesn’t look good, but I don’t think you did it.”
“Yourfeelingsandthoughtsaren’t going to stand up in a court of law,” Flint crossed his arms, standing between the detective and me.
“True,” Rosenthal sighed. “But there’s no evidence Celia did anything. It’s made to make it look like Celia did something.”
“If you know it wasn’t me, then why are we standing over here like you’re about to arrest me,” I glared at the detective. I was tired, covered in dirt and soot, and I wanted to take a long, hot shower. Maybe with something else long and hot to join me.
Dang. Who knew getting dirty in the field would make me want to get down and dirty elsewhere?
“We want to make it look like you’re under suspicion,” Rosenthal jerked his head to the people behind us. “Let the rumor mill get out there that we’re not looking at the current Mrs. Cruz.”
“Because she’s your suspect,” I finished.
“Yes,” Rosenthal snapped his notepad shut. “Neighbors saw movers loading a truck yesterday afternoon. I’m guessing that was after the reading of the will where she learned you were the sole heir to Octavio Cruz’s estate.”
“Bad news travels fast.”
He nodded at me. “The fire investigator says it looks like someone left stacks of paperwork on the stove, then turned on the burners. No telling how long ago that was, but likely right around the time the current Mrs. Cruz left with many of the home’s belongings.”
Flint fumed. I shook my head. “I didn’t want anything in there. Although, there might have been some stuff the twins wanted. Too late for all of that now.”
“Is there a warrant out for her arrest?” Flint asked the detective.
“We have a ‘person of interest’ alert out,” he acknowledged. “But she’s in the wind. No sign of her, yet.”
We promised to let him know if we got a lead on the Disappearing Mrs. Cruz. Detective Rosenthal left. Flint dragged me to the car.
“Where are you taking me?”
Flint opened the passenger door. “Home. Your home. You need rest. It’s been a busy couple of days for you.”
I began to protest, but Flint just scooped me up, deposited me into the passenger seat, belted me in, and closed the door.
Freaking-A!Why was that so hot?I needed to check the fine print on my Feminist Card because I was sure they’d revoke mine if I kept having these reactions.
Flint drove me home, where he left me with strict orders to take a hot shower, then go to bed.
I only slightly pouted when I realized he wouldn’t be joining me. But that was probably for the best since I don’t remember much after my head hit the pillow.
