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  “Amen. I don’t complain. Not at all.” MiMi shivered.

  Cedric heaved a sigh. “Okay, no help from the family.”

  “Why do you think I called Willa instead of them? Thank you for tracking down my lawyer.” MiMi sniffed a few times.

  She rose, found her purse where she’d dropped it on another chair and took out her small make bag. As she repaired her look, MiMi cleared her head. Looking her best had always steadied her nerves.

  “Smart of you to assume he’d be in court or tied up. Lawyers don’t sit in their offices all day like most people think,” Willa said. “Drink your juice. Kay swears it will smooth out the rough edges. She convinced me to get one of those fancy blenders for the office.”

  “Four hundred bucks to mash up stuff,” Cedric said dryly, ever the keeper of the company cash flow.

  MiMi managed a weak smile as she put her make-up away and sat down. She sipped from the glass. “Hmm, that’s not bad.”

  “I wouldn’t drink that green concoction,” Cedric joked.

  “No, it’s really good. What’s in it?” MiMi drank more.

  “Fresh pineapple and an apple to sweeten it, also for fiber. Cucumber, lemon and celery. Since you didn’t heave, I’ll try.” Willa poured another glass.

  “You haven’t tasted it? Thanks a lot,” MiMi spluttered. Still she drained her glass. “Whew. Okay, I think I can make sense now.”

  “Maybe we need to bottle the stuff and sell it. Cause a whole lot of people are acting crazy these days,” Cedric said with a smile.

  “Yeah.” MiMi tried to smile, but couldn’t quite muster the effort. She lifted her chin, let out a slow breath and gazed at Willa. “We better figure this out.”

  “Hell yes. Did Roderick get shot, beaten or stabbed,” Willa was about to go on when Cedric cleared his throat. “What?”

  “Give her more than a minute to get steady,” Cedric said dryly.

  MiMi fought off the shakes that started when Willa listed the grim reaper possibilities. “He died from a gunshot to the chest.”

  “Damn. I’m surprised they came straight for you though.” Willa blinked as she tried to sort through cop logic.

  “Most murders are committed by people known to the victim. If evidence pointed to a robbery they’d have said so.” Cedric’s good humor had vanished, replaced by a serious expression. “They didn’t give you more facts for a good reason.”

  “Yeah, they wanted to see if you’d slip and say something only the murderer would know. Then they’d pounce,” Willa put in.

  “Oh God, you think I blurted out something they could use against me?” MiMi squeezed her eyes shut to blot out such a reality. “I’m on my way to prison. Again.”

  “They may be eliminating you as a suspect. Obviously you didn’t know how he died, so they went ahead and told you. Plus it was probably about to be in the news.” Cedric started to go on, but stopped when his smart phone buzzed. He stood, unclipped it from his belt, and gazed at the screen. He waved to them as he left the office.

  “Has Jazz called? Maybe Don can tell us something.” MiMi couldn’t sit or stand still. She moved to the window. Willa’s office looked down on an interior courtyard. People sat at tables eating lunch. Afternoon sunlight gave the scene a cheerful look.

  “We can’t put him in a difficult position by asking him questions.”

  “That an exact quote?” MiMi didn’t turn around.

  “Yep, Jazz is starting to sound downright conventional. She’s protective of him.” Willa smiled as she shook her head.

  “She loves him,” MiMi replied.

  “Jazz is too busy pretending they’re friends who have good sex. That makes her feel safe.” Willa waved a hand. “Anyway, back to your pressing problem.”

  “Roderick was no good, but he didn’t deserve to die. Hell, if people who were scum got the death penalty the streets would be littered with bodies. Besides, he was genuinely sweet to Sage.”

  “Hmmm.” Willa raised her eyebrows, sipped coffee but said no more.

  “Okay, maybe he was setting us up to be his trophy family. We’d make a nice respectability cover for him, especially if he expected to be in legal trouble.” MiMi chewed on her thumb for a few seconds, a habit her mother had nagged her about since childhood.

  Willa gave a short chuckle. “His stunning wife, huh? How modest of you. What about his wife with a rich daddy who could give his business bottom line a much needed bump?”

  “That too,” MiMi agreed. She grimaced as if Roderick stood in front of her. “What a low down sleazy waste of space.”

  “At least one other person thought so,” Willa clipped.

  MiMi shivered. “No, someone hated Roderick enough to kill him. If only we knew more.”

  Cedric came back and shut the office door as if on cue. “That was Edselle. He’s found out more. Roderick suffered blunt force trauma and was shot in the leg. The bullet hit a major artery. He bled to death.”

  MiMi’s legs went weak. She stumbled to a nearby chair and dropped onto it. “Oh God, that’s awful. They wanted him to suffer. Wait a minute, Forrester said he was shot in the chest.”

  “He probably wanted to surprise you into saying something like, ‘I hit his leg’. You’d be surprised how many suspects give themselves away so easily.” Cedric checked his texts messages as he talked.

  “No wonder the police are questioning people close to him. Sounds personal to me.” Willa looked at Cedric.

  “It could have been a robbery. His home and his office had stuff thrown around, like someone searched them. But… I don’t know.” Cedric sat on the edge of Willa’s desk.

  Willa sat straight. “Wait, that’s good news. The police will cover all the bases. He could have interrupted a burglary and been attacked.”

  Cedric scratched his jaw and turned over her premise for a few seconds. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You don’t believe it though.” Willa lifted her mug. When Cedric nodded, she got up and poured coffee into an empty mug for him.

  He took it from her. “Thanks, babe. He either interrupted a thief at his house or his office, not both. Burglars typically don’t go to a victim’s house, figure out where he works and go there, too. Doesn’t make sense.”

  “Maybe they forced him to his house or office when they couldn’t enough money. Anyway, it weakens any theory that makes MiMi the likeliest suspect,” Willa said.

  Cedric frowned. “They could have taken to the nearest ATM and forced him to withdraw cash. And…”

  Willa gazed at him. “What else?”

  “In criminal cases the authorities can’t hold back information from a defense attorney,” Cedric replied.

  “She hasn’t been charged. They could have told him because the details are about to become public anyway, probably in the news.” Willa pointed her mug at him.

  “Good point. Ed didn’t say she was going to be arrested.” Cedric took out his cell phone and dialed. He spoke for a few minutes. “You’re right. Ed says he saw a breaking news bulletin on his tablet about Roderick’s murder. He called the police and got more information. The detective, Drake, told him they were following more leads.”

  “Which is the same as saying they don’t have enough to charge MiMi or anyone else,” Willa added.

  “Good catch.” Cedric smiled at her.

  MiMi listened to them bat ideas back and forth for a few minutes. She massaged her forehead in an effort to fight off a migraine. Yet the first stab of pain started behind her left eye. Willa’s assistant slipped in to press an object into her hand. MiMi looked at the foil with two white tablets encased in plastic. Kay handed MiMi a large paper cup filled with water. She waited as MiMi tore open the package, took the pills and gulped down half the water.

  “Thanks,” MiMi said softly and accepted a hug from Kay, who then left just as unobtrusively.

  Willa and Cedric spoke quietly. With her eyes closed, MiMi rested her head on the back of her chair. Tension eased from her neck and shoulders. T
he pills kept the thud from turning into a full-fledged sledge hammer of agony. After a few moments her thinking cleared. MiMi opened her eyes. Aware that the headache could still hit hard, MiMi moved slowly to sit up. She wanted to be strong, to help them examine alternatives. After all, this was her mess, not theirs. But she couldn’t.

  “I just want to go home, take care of my little girl and crawl under my comforter,” MiMi said, her voice shaky.

  Willa gave Cedric a look full of meaning. He nodded and crossed to MiMi. Without saying a word, he gave MiMi a solid warm embrace and then walked out. He didn’t have to make a speech. Cedric would juggle his work at Crown Protection with finding facts to help her. Just as Kay hadn’t needed to speak as she looked after MiMi.

  “Kissing my kids has always been my best medicine. I’ll drive you home. Kay can follow and bring me back to the office,” Willa said gently.

  She helped MiMi to her feet, dried tears from her cheeks and handed MiMi her purse as she talked. Overwhelmed, MiMi could only follow directions. She let Willa and Kay take control for the next forty-five minutes. They collected Sage from daycare. Three hours later, MiMi felt much better. Going through her typical mommy routine helped. Sage cooed in a warm soapy bath as she played with her toys. MiMi fed her mashed potatoes and green peas. By the time the sun slipped down, MiMi could almost believe the awful day had been all her imagination. Almost. By eight o’clock she’d put Sage in bed. MiMi smiled as Sage’s eyes fluttered. She kicked her chubby legs in an attempt to stay awake, but it didn’t work. MiMi jumped at the sound of the doorbell. Thankfully Sage seemed too tired to be disturbed by the chime that echoed through the house. MiMi made sure the baby monitor was set. She left the bedroom door halfway open. Then she went down stairs.

  “I don’t care if a truck load of burly FBI agents, cops or both is at this door. If they disturb my baby, I’m going off, on somebody,” MiMi muttered.

  She peered through the window next to the front door. What she saw surprised her. A slender elegantly dressed woman the color of nutmeg stood in the light. Long black hair draped her shoulders. The woman’s form fitting black dress and bright teal blue pumps caused a flash of admiration in MiMi. Long contemporary silver earrings swung as the stranger scanned her surroundings. A dark Mercedes sedan sat in MiMi’s driveway. When a tall man with broad shoulders and a bald head stepped out of the driver’s side, the woman waved him away. Then she faced the door again.

  “Hello, Ms. Landry. May I speak with you one moment, please?” she said. Her soft Dominican accent made her request sound quite pleasant.

  MiMi didn’t move. The presence of the man made her invitation a lot less inviting. “It’s late and I’m dressed for bed.”

  “Tsk, tsk, Ms. Landry. This isn’t the southern hospitality I’m told is so famous,” the woman replied. “Your fancy neighbors might find out about Jack stealing my money and why this property belongs to me.”

  “What the…” MiMi slammed open the locks and jerked the door open.

  A tan SUV pulled up just suddenly. Three guys piled out of the passenger front and back doors. A fourth man bounded around from the other side. He pointed at the woman’s male companion who was coming from the BMW.

  “Hey, man. You don’t wanna do that. Just be cool right where you at,” the fourth guy shouted.

  His three companions positioned themselves in a line blocking a path up MiMi’s sidewalk to her front door. Then a black SUV screeched around the corner. Seconds later it parked behind the Mercedes so that the car couldn’t back out. The bald headed companion slapped a palm on the car’s roof in frustration. Jazz appeared from the SUV passenger door. Don Addison, emerged from the driver’s side seconds later.

  “Hey, didn’t your mama teach you not to open the door to strangers?” Jazz yelled at MiMi.

  Chapter 11

  Ten minutes later they all sat in MiMi’s living room. The elegant woman wore an impassive expression as she studied Jazz first. She seemed to reach some kind of conclusion as she gave a short hiss. Then she looked at Don. Her milk chocolate gaze lingered on his tall, muscular frame. Her deep wine colored lips parted to reveal white teeth.

  “Your police officers are a lot sexier here. Or is that just the way you grow them in the southern states?” the woman purred.

  “He’s kinda unique,” Jazz replied. She draped an arm around Don’s shoulder for a second and then took it away.

  The woman raised a dark eyebrow. “Lucky girl.”

  “Luck ain’t got nothin’ to do with it.” Jazz flashed a cocky grin at the woman.

  “Hey, cut it out,” Don mumbled, a quick side-eye at Jazz.

  The woman laughed. “Enjoy being a sex object, my darling. Women have to put up with it all the time.”

  MiMi had time to dress in a red tunic sweater over jeans while Jazz and Don babysat her visitor. She cut in before the woman could go on flirting. “Excuse me if I ask a rude question, but who the hell are you?”

  The woman started to stand, but changed her mind when Jazz took a step toward her. She sighed as she settled in the chair again. “You people are so dramatic. I’m Nairoby Villa. I don’t think you want an officer of the law to hear the rest of what I have to say.”

  “You’re not in a position to set the damn rules,” Jazz shot back.

  Don tapped Jazz on the shoulder. “Lemme have a minute.”

  Jazz followed him to a corner, they whispered back and forth. Don finally did most of the talking as Jazz nodded. They both shot side glances at the newcomer from time to time.

  “Her handsome policeman is very smart. He’s probably explaining to your hot-headed friend that any illegal activity I disclose would place him in an awkward position.

  “What are you talking about?” MiMi squinted at the woman.

  “You’ll see soon.”

  Nairoby gave a short nod in the direction of Jazz and Don. Don went out the front door without looking back. Jazz joined them again. She sat down on the edge of MiMi’s sofa, but didn’t relax.

  “You were about to say.” Jazz gazed at her.

  “I could use such a fine asset in my business.” Nairoby glanced at the door. “What’s his name again?”

  “Mr. Don’t Even Try It,” Jazz replied mildly. She crossed her shapely legs. “You didn’t come thousands of miles to get your ass handed to you over a man. Explain why you disturbed my girl.”

  Nairoby laughed. “I like you. I’m sure we could talk business. Now this one…” She glanced at MiMi.

  MiMi strode to the woman and stood in front of her. “The police officer that might have kept me from beating you senseless is gone. I’ve been through enough crap that my patience is thin. So you need to start talking.”

  “Fine,” Nairoby said with a sour expression of distaste. “I can’t believe Jackson would bother with you. But that’s neither here nor there now. Jackson and I had a business arrangement. He helped me export merchandise, trained my security staff and we shared in the profits.”

  “What kind of merchandise?” MiMi frowned at her.

  “Mainly textiles. Later I expanded into garments for expensive specialty boutiques. Then I developed a line of cheaper clothing.” Nairoby gave a short laugh. “I have you to thank for that. Jackson gave me advice based on your experience. You may have noticed he took an interest in your work.”

  “What?” MiMi yelped. She jammed both fists on her hips.

  “You thought his pillow talk about the clothing business meant he was fascinated with you? He did it for me.” Nairoby ignored the odds against her and stood.

  “That no-good lying son-of-a…” MiMi huffed and cut off the rest. He was Sage’s father after all. Even so, if Jack hadn’t already died, MiMi would have happily taken a bat to him.

  Jazz rose quickly. She went to MiMi and pulled her a few feet away from Nairoby. “Focus.”

  “He cheated on me with this piece of foreign trash,” MiMi spluttered.

  “We need information, not a cat fight over a dead gu
y. Let it go,” Jazz whispered. She glanced over MiMi’s shoulder at Nairoby, who had sat down again and looked satisfied with herself. “She’s pushing your buttons and enjoying it. She must need something bad to come all this way.”

  MiMi huffed and puffed a few times, then gained control. “Okay.”

  “I’ll do the talking, in case you’re tempted to take a swing at her,” Jazz replied after a few seconds.

  “I’m good.” MiMi tried not to think of Jack wrapped up in a naked embrace with the leggy woman, and failed.

  “Uh-huh.” Jazz gave a snort of skepticism, then went to sit across from Nairoby again. The young man who’d come inside with Jazz seemed to be enjoying the show.

  “Good you talked some sense into her. She’s decorative and not much use otherwise,” Nairoby said to Jazz.

  Jazz glanced at her male companion. He moved closer to the woman. “Stop wasting time and get to the damn point.”

  The smile faded from Nairoby’s face. “Jackson made a lot of money because of me, but he had expensive habits. I never cared about her,” she jerked a head. “But I discovered he raided a joint account we had. He bought this house, a Jaguar and a car for her. Why? Because she was stupid enough to get pregnant.”

  Jazz studied Nairoby for a few moments. Then she smiled. “Jack had his faults, but he’d do anything for his kids. And his baby’s mama.”

  “He stole from me for to support that breed cow of a bitch! What he bought belongs to me. This house, those fancy cars are mine.” Nairoby tapped her chest with a teal lacquered fingernail.

  “Ha, how you gone get ‘em?” Jazz retorted.

  “Not all of the deals Jack and I did were exactly legal. The FBI would like to know about your property, huh? Yes, I know a bit about American laws. I could put his entire estate in jeopardy without causing much trouble for me or my business partners. Maybe he put some of that dirty money into Crown Protection. Felipe Perez would be disturbed to learn that your friends are living off his money while he sits in prison. Things could get nasty for you in a variety of ways.” Nairoby pursed her lips.