And I truly believe that. If, whoever this was wanted Morris dead, he would likely have been hurt last night. Whatever they are doing is pretty sick, but I don’t think Morris is in any mortal danger.

  I hope.

  He crosses his arms over his chest, the universal sign of defiance, and shakes his head even more. His tone is decided when he says, “I’m staying here and there is nothing you can do to convince me that I will be safe out there.”

  Obviously, my logic didn’t help. I see the resolve in his eyes and know I am defeated.

  I don’t have time to baby him into taking a few steps outside. If he wants to hole up in my house, I guess I will let him. We went through something pretty traumatizing last night and if he needs more time to process, I owe him that.

  I leave Morris in the kitchen and get dressed. I also find Buttons has finally woken up and I put her in my purse because I know she won’t want to spend the day with Morris. She likes him, but not that much. I don’t take too long getting ready since I really am running late. I should have paid closer attention to the time. I really am spreading myself a little too thin these days.

  Rushing to the door, I see Morris is back to sitting in the living room. I walk over before I leave, just to offer some nice words.

  “Look, I get that you’re scared of everything right now, but when you are ready to remake your public debut, I’ll be there to help. I don’t want you to become some kind of recluse.”

  Morris smiles at me. “I won’t become a recluse. I just need a little time.”

  I pat his shoulder and head out. I’m meeting Michal, Lindsay, and Mrs. Goodson at Neptune’s Palace to go over floral arrangements. It’s a nice day and hopefully this meeting will be pleasant.

  Chapter Ten

  Neptune’s Palace Hotel and Resort

  I somehow get there before anyone else, which is a godsend. It gives me just a tiny amount of time to mentally prepare. I did my best on the ride over, talking to Buttons about everything that went down, as well as what I’ll need for today’s meeting.

  Thankfully, she wasn’t in the car when Morris and I went on that stakeout. She doesn’t always mind being left at the house and last night she was being agreeable enough. Plus, I’m sure she would have hated being stuck in my car for as long as we were. And I don’t want to imagine how she would have reacted to the gun shots.

  But, yeah, catching Buttons up wasn’t quite enough prep. I flip through my notebook and re-download all the little details Lindsay told me about the flowers. She is quite particular. But it is her wedding, so she can have whatever she wants.

  Michael and Lindsay show up first. I wave them over.

  “I hope you weren’t waiting long,” Michael starts to apologize. “We were running a little late this morning. We were going to call, but I honestly thought we could make it.”

  “Don’t even worry about it. I wasn’t here for that long. Plus, Mrs. Goodson isn’t even here yet, so it’s not even a problem.”

  Michael visibly relaxes, but Lindsay seems bothered by it. We fall into a bit of an awkward silence, one I try to get us out of by asking, “How was your night last night?”

  Michael is about to answer when Mrs. Goodson joins our group.

  “Hello!” she greets us with a hearty smile.

  To me, Mrs. Goodson gives a small hug and, as we break apart, Lindsay, who up until now has kept herself off to the side, launches right into her floral visions for the wedding. It’s a bit abrupt, considering she hasn’t offered a hello or good morning, but we take it in stride and listen to what she wants. Unfortunately, social niceties can regularly get overlooked in the wedding business.

  “I want alternating patterns of pink and white on each row and also across the way. Did you get my drawings? I gave them to Valerie and she was supposed to send them along.”

  “I did,” responds Mrs. Goodson in friendly cheer. “In fact, I brought them with me, along with my own notes on how to get exactly what you want.”

  I guide everyone into the garden at Neptune’s where the ceremony will take place while Mrs. Goodson gives Lindsay all the updates. It’s a lovely, grassy area with palm trees, exotic flowers, and attractive shrubs. The area backs up to one of Neptune’s private beaches, so no tourists will be in the background of the wedding pictures.

  Michael just wanders around, taking a little time to himself. I think he really needs it. He tends to be stressed, whenever I see him. Hopefully being among so much pretty scenery will help him a little.

  “So, you want a big display of pink and white roses here that people will see as a backdrop while you and Michael are exchanging your vows?” I ask while making an overarching motion to show the area that I feel would be best for such a display.

  Mrs. Goodson steps over and adds, “We could put some smaller arrangements here, here, and here just to give it a little more oomph. You want the eye to sweep and then come back to you. I feel like if we give the large display some room to breathe, we’ll be able to keep you and the groom as the focal point.”

  I love watching the vendors work because they are all so good at what they do. When starting my business, I did my best to find people who were, not only at the top of their fields, but also kind and friendly. I wanted everything to feel more intimate when people came to work with me and I feel like I’ve achieved that.

  “I love that idea!” beams Lindsay. I can tell she is genuinely excited, a wide smile on her face. It falters slightly as she says, “But I’m kind of worried about the cost. I know I’ve been asking you for a lot, but, as you know, Michael and I have a pretty tight budget.”

  I am well aware of it. I even gave them a friends and family discount since Morris and I are getting closer. At this point, I’d consider him a friend. I mean, I did get shot at for him.

  Mrs. Goodson doesn’t seem fazed by what Lindsay said. Nodding, she suggests, “I know there are going to be a lot of floral arrangements lining the aisle, but the design you want is pretty easy and simple. So, if you and Michael are willing, the two of you could come to the Pink Petal Place and help put the arrangements together yourselves. That way you can save some money on labor costs.”

  Michael comes back over and puts his hands on Lindsay’s shoulders. “Tell us when and we’ll be there!”

  Lindsay eagerly nods and then the two of them share a chuckle. For the most part, I’ve enjoyed working with the two of them. Lindsay can be a little demanding at times, but they work well together. It’s obvious that they really love one another. Lindsay puts her hand on top of one of Michael’s and they give each other a quick peck.

  I start feeling Buttons wiggle in my purse. She has been in there for a while, so it makes sense that she’s getting a little anxious. We are outside, so I just take her out and put her on her leash. It’s a garden, so I don’t think anyone is going to object. Plus, Neptune’s is well aware of my finnicky dog. They’ve dealt with a few of her moods. Buttons wanders around a bit, sniffing at the flowers.

  Lindsay sees my Yorkie strolling around. “Oh, she’s so cute!” she melts.

  That’s the general reaction I get whenever Buttons is brought out. She tends to be a hit. Lindsay lets go of Michael, wiggling his hands off of her shoulders and bending down to pet my dog. I’m a little worried at her eagerness, she didn’t even ask to pet her, but Buttons has been well-behaved since she started living with me.

  However, I am surprised when Lindsay suddenly tries to pick Buttons up. Especially because she’s being so rough. I don’t think she means to be, but she isn’t being particularly gentle, squeezing the poor pup awkwardly. So, unsurprisingly, Buttons bites her.

  “Ow!”

  I scramble over and take my dog from her arms, apologizing, “I’m so sorry! She’s usually way better behaved.” I know it’s Lindsay’s fault, but I also don’t want to upset her.

  Michael also runs over and takes Lindsay’s hand to check it. Thankfully, no blood was drawn. It looks more like it was a nip.

  “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” Michael quickly offers.

  Lindsay scowls, but lets Michael talk.

  He continues, “Lindsay isn’t always the best with animals. She loves them, but has a hard time getting them to like her. I had a—” he chuckles suddenly, but it sounds forced. “I had a Black Lab when the two of us first got together. Her name was Snowball, I don’t know why I named her that, I guess I thought I was being ironic, but the two of them just never got along. It was like they were always vying for my attention. It was… it was kind of funny.”

  Michael’s attempt to turn what amounts to a sad story into a sweet one is nice. I know he’s just trying to keep his fiancée happy, but I do feel bad for him. I can tell he’s sad about the dog.

  “But, in the end, I’m marrying this beautiful girl, so everything happens for a reason, am I right?” He lightly kisses Lindsay on the cheek.

  I’m not sure what to say. The story was clearly supposed to be like a ‘look at our quirky couple dynamic,’ but instead came off as more of a ‘I had to make some serious sacrifices to make this relationship work and I love my partner, but I still feel sad about it.’ So, instead, I nod, and my grip instinctually tightens around Buttons.

  Thankfully, Lindsay changes the course of the conversation, so I don’t have to.

  “Speaking of getting married, we still have a lot to figure out with the flowers,” she says. She pulls her hand from Michael’s and goes to talk to Mrs. Goodson, leaving the groom and me alone.

  Standing next to Michael, I notice he has this far-off look on his face. I don’t want him to be sullen, so I ask, “Would you like to hold Buttons? She’s usually pretty good with other people.” I’m not worried that she’ll bite him because he said he had his own dog and, generally, people are pretty gentle with animals.

  “Yeah, I’d love to.”

  His eyes light up and he smiles, making me feel a little better. I hand the Yorkie over to him and she curls up in his arms. He softly rubs her fur while the two of us watch Mrs. Goodson and Lindsay walk around, discussing flowers.

  My curiosity gets the better of me and I ask Michael, “What happened to Snowball? Did you have to give her away?”

  He shakes his head. “No, she ran away,” he sighs. “We tried putting up fliers, but we never were able to find her. I like to think another family has taken her in.” He lets out another, deeper sigh.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Michael gives me a sad smile and just shrugs before completely turning his focus to watching Lindsay.

  This gives me some time to think about the case so far. I need to put things in order. The first incident took place at Posh. That’s where Morris got a threatening note and had some of his stuff messed with. I wasn’t able to gather anything more from his apartment, so maybe I should check out the nightclub next. I did say before that I would need to go back to all the crime scenes. I know it all happened all over a week ago, but there’s still a chance that some clues could be lurking. I also know Derek wouldn’t want me to, but I have this urge to look into this, for Morris’ sake at the very least.

  My phone rings and I look at the screen to see that Benji is calling. I’d almost forgotten he had come to Morris’ apartment that first day. With all the excitement, it kind of just left my mind. I answer with a questioning, “Hello?”

  “Val! I need to see you!” He sounds a little frantic. It totally fits in with Benji’s personality; the man is highly excitable.

  “Is everything okay, Benji?” I ask, turning to the side, worried I might be getting into something else that’s going to turn my world upside down. But it turns out Benji is just being a little dramatic.

  “Yeah, I just wanted to tell you some stuff about Morris’ case I’d been checking up on. I’ve been working on this idea and I wanted to run it by you, if that’s okay?”

  I give it some thought. I could use another set of eyes at Posh and, while Benji makes me feel awkward sometimes, he could be a valuable resource. He does have a good eye, so I ask him, “Can you take me to Posh tonight? I was hoping to get a good look around there.”

  I move away from Michael, so he can’t hear me. I’m pretty sure that Morris doesn’t want his friend knowing about his problems. As far as I can tell, he has only told Megs, Bastian, Benji, and I. I don’t know why he hasn’t told Michael, but I’m not going to question that decision right now.

  “You can tell me about your theory and maybe we’ll find out more about what is going on,” I tell Benji.

  “Yeah, okay!” I can hear the enthusiasm in his voice.

  Ordinarily, I’d call Derek. He’d probably lecture me about continuing to investigate, but then tag along because he’d want to make sure I didn’t get myself into trouble. The only thing is I don’t want to bother the detective anymore. I never used to think of myself as bothering him whenever I called, but with this hindsight, I’m starting to wonder if every time I inserted myself into a case, he hated it. I don’t want to think about it right now, so I don’t.

  “I’ll text you the time,” I tell Benji.

  We hang up and I get back to wedding planning for the day. The rest of the session goes off without a hitch. I say goodbye to my clients and Mrs. Goodson, looking forward to gathering more clues at Posh.

  Chapter Eleven

  Posh Nightclub

  I’m really hoping this trip to Posh pays off. When I got home from work, Morris still hadn’t left all day. I understand his fear, but I don’t want my friend becoming a hermit, especially if he ends up staying holed up in my house. I need Morris to go outside again.

  Benji shows up at my door at the appointed time. His tall frame looks good in a pair of fitted dark jeans and a nice black t-shirt. His album hair is styled, looking artfully tousled. He brings me into a big hug that surprises me, but I return it. He is helping me out and he’s been pretty nice to me. I want to think of the two of us as friends, so I’m going to try to treat him like one. We break apart and I cross my arms over my chest as we walk to his car.

  “What did you want to tell me?”

  Benji smiles and starts gesturing as he explains why he ran out on Morris and me a couple of days ago. “I’ve been going to the buildings around Morris’ apartment and getting the security footage from anyone who has cameras. I haven’t had a chance to go through any of the videos yet, but I’ve gathered up a pretty nice collection.”

  I’m pleasantly surprised by Benji’s idea and the fact that he executed it on his own is exciting in its own right. I hadn’t expected him to do something that could turn out to be so helpful.

  “That’s great, Benji! When you get a chance to look through it, maybe if you find anything, give it to Megs. She might be able to make the image clearer. That’s kind of her specialty.”

  His smile widens. “Will do, boss.” He gives me a small two-finger salute.

  We quickly drive over to Posh in his black Range Rover.

  ***

  The club feels very different when there isn’t a DJ set going on. The line to get inside is shorter and the bouncer waves us through quickly. There is music playing inside, but there’s more a lounge feel going on. There are less people so there is more space and you can really see how large the club is. It feels like the converted warehouse it is. That dance floor is huge and there is a seating area that skirts either side of the bar. It’s nice, but if Morris was here, turning it out as DJ Meow Meow, it would be a lot better.

  “Let’s go talk to some of the employees. Maybe someone saw something that night,” I say.

  We walk over to a bouncer posting up nearby. We ask him a few questions, but he doesn’t have any information that’s helpful. That trend continues as we go around to the various other bouncers, bartenders and barkeeps. No one knows who damaged Morris’ equipment. One of the bouncers gives us something that sounds like gossip.

  “If you want my opinion, Morris made this whole thing up,” he tells us. “He’s known around here for being a little dramatic and this wouldn’t be the first time he’s blown something way out of proportion.”

  Since I don’t want to make a thing out of it, I just agree, but I remember that just last night someone was shooting at us. At first, I thought the whole affair was nothing more than Morris, being his usual self. But now, with everything that has happened, I know someone is truly out to scare him.

  Or even hurt him.

  When we finish talking to everyone, we take a closer look around the club. I’m still not seeing much of anything. It’s been over a week. Most evidence would have probably been cleaned away by this time. It would have been better if I had gotten here soon after the incident.

  I see the DJ booth. There’s no one doing a set tonight, so it’s empty. The booth is an open-air platform with tables for the DJ’s equipment and speakers hanging from above. They look rather secure, but something that heavy above my head always gives me a small amount of anxiety. There aren’t many security measures to keep someone from getting up there, especially if the club was busy, which it always is when Morris is performing. People might not notice a person who shouldn’t be up there, doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

  “Do you see anything?” I ask Benji who’s standing alongside me.

  He shakes his head. We keep walking around, but I’ve lost faith that we’ll make much progress here.

  While we’re taking our slow stroll, my eyes fall on to the table area and I see Derek there with the same young blonde woman he was out with yesterday. I stop dead in my tracks and my heart falls even further.

  I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I suddenly grab Benji’s hand, pulling us towards the door. I have to get out of here before Derek sees me.

  “Wha—” Benji protests.

  I know Benji is probably crazy-confused at my sudden change in mood, but I don’t want to explain or think about anything that’s going on, so I ignore whatever question Benji’s trying to form.

 

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