CHAPTER 7
“No! No, no, no, no,” I said, covering my eyes. “There are not supposed to be any more dead guys! No more dead guys! It’s only been ten days since the last one! Why does this keep happening?” I dropped my hands and blinked. It did nothing to change the fact that Marco’s associate was sprawled at my feet and there was a large, hairy, naked man turning purple in the Jacuzzi. The man’s toupee had fallen forward, covering his face like a furry window shade. “Is that who I think it is?”
Vero tiptoed closer to the bathtub, grimacing at his exposed groin through the dissipating bath bubbles. “If it is, I’m guessing his list of admirers wasn’t very long.” She took a washcloth off the shelf beside the tub and shook it open, dropping it over his crotch. The tiny square of fabric bobbed precariously on the surface, and she made a gagging sound as she reached into the water, plucking out his bamboo back scrubber with the tips of her gloved fingers.
Using the end of its long handle, she lifted the dangling hairpiece from the man’s face. Two bulging, bloodshot eyes stared back at us. We both jumped back as Marco’s head lolled sideways. Bruises ringed the thick folds of his neck.
“Yep. Definitely him.” Vero dropped the scrubber into the water and backed away from the tub, nearly tripping over a sopping wet bathrobe sash on the floor. “We need to get out of here.”
“There are two dead men in this room, Vero! We can’t just leave!”
“There are two dead men in this room, and that is exactly why we should be leaving!”
Vero and I froze at a scratching sound.
“What was that?” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “I think it came from out there,” I said, pointing toward the hall.
“We checked the kitchen, the closets, and both bedrooms!” Vero whispered. “There was no one else here!”
“Did you check the other bathroom?”
“What other bathroom?”
We stared at each other as the scratching stopped.
Vero moved silently back through the master suite. I followed her down the hall, back to the second bedroom. Sure enough, there was another door inside. It was closed. Probably another bathroom.
I held Vero by the ties of her apron before she could test the knob. “We should get out of here. The killer might be in there.”
“What if it’s Javi?”
“What if it’s not?”
The door rattled as something shuffled behind it. “Find a weapon,” I whispered.
Vero began searching the bedroom while I crept to the kitchen. I returned with a frying pan and found Vero wielding an iron with a retractable cord.
“Don’t look at me like that!” she whispered. “At least it’s not a hair dryer.” She yanked the frying pan away from me and tossed it on the bed. “There’s no way you’re taking him out with Farberware, Finn. You need Le Creuset for that.” She unplugged the brass lamp on the nightstand and thrust it in my hand.
Weapons poised, we tiptoed toward the bathroom. Vero stoodbehind me, her fingers digging into my shoulder as I pressed my ear against the door.
The shuffling inside quieted as I reached for the handle.
On the count of three, I flung it open and Vero lunged inside. Someone snarled. Vero shrieked, knocking me backward as she scrambled out of the room and quickly slammed the door.
“What was that?” I asked as she bent over her knees, the iron cord dragging on the floor between her feet.
“I think we found our ferocious killer,” she panted.
Cautiously, I cracked open the door.
A small, hairy wiener dog bared his tiny teeth at me through the gap. Mangled bath towels littered the floor beside an overturned water bowl. A roll of toilet paper had been ripped from its holder on the wall, and bits of shredded paper clung to the dog’s fur like wet confetti. “The dog must belong to Marco.”
Vero extended a tentative hand inside and reached for the dog’s collar. He laid back his ears and began barking at us.
“Don’t do that! You’re making it mad!”
