“Thank heavens they let you go,” Richard said as we walked across the pool deck into the hotel lobby.
“Why wouldn’t they?” I tried to hide the relief I felt that my police interview had been perfunctory. “I barely knew the victim, and I wasn’t anywhere near her when she died.”
“Being held for questioning might not be so bad,” Fern said. “A couple of those officers were cute. And those hats were fabulous.”
“Too Gestapo for my taste,” Richard said, looking back to where the officers still clustered around the body.
Fern wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Exactly.”
“Can we forget about your fondness for jack boots for a moment and focus on Annabelle?” Richard asked.
“I’m fine. Really. It was routine questioning.” I didn’t mention how worried I’d been that Jeremy might have tipped off the police about my involvement in other murder investigations and my brief stint as a person of interest in a case. Luckily, his threats seemed to have been a bunch of hot air. So far.
The lobby was nearly empty of guests, and I only spotted one waiter clearing a tea service from a low table. The soft background music gave an unnatural calm to the expansive room and served as a stark contrast to the activity and chatter of the beach. We crossed the marble floor, our flip-flops slapping against the surface. I slowed my pace and walked on my toes in an attempt to silence my shoes.
Before we reached the elevator bank that led up to our suites, I heard Buster and Mack trudging across the lobby. With their leather pants and vests covered in chains, it was nearly impossible for them to go anywhere in stealth mode. The sound of their leather and jangling of their metal preceded them. I nudged Kate as I turned to see the two men walking toward us, shoulders sagging. “This doesn’t look good.”
We met the pair as they reached the round marble entrance table topped with a lush arrangement of white lilies and whitewashed curly willow branches jutting out of the top. Mack smiled when he saw us, but it was a weak counterfeit of his usual wide grin.
“Who died?” Fern asked, then put his fingers to his lips and gave a nervous giggle. “Oops.”
“I know it’s awful to be so petty considering what happened,” Mack said, “but the dinner at Sky Bar has been canceled, and we just finished the decor.”
“That’s the second event that’s been a bust.” Buster’s voice was an even deeper rumble than usual. “This is getting discouraging.”
“I thought you weren’t doing much decor for tonight,” Kate said.
Mack absentmindedly fiddled with the silver hoop piercing his eyebrow. “The tables weren’t the focus since it was designed to be more of a cocktail party, but we came up with some fun design elements for the stations.”
“Is it still set up?” Fern asked.
Buster nodded. “The hotel is having photos taken, so even if the party doesn’t happen, they can use the images for marketing.”
“Then why don’t we go use it?” Fern asked. When we all stared at him, he continued. “It’s a shame to let the work go to waste, and we have to eat. Why not order some food and eat it there?”
Richard shrugged. “It beats eating in our rooms.”
Mack’s face brightened. “Would you really do that?”
“Why not?” I said. “We don’t even need to get dressed up.”
He spun on his heel and beckoned for us to follow him. “It’s just through here.”
We walked from the lobby down a long hallway to a door that led outside. A sidewalk lined with low palms and flowering bushes took us to another section of the resort and around another pool. We passed a glass-walled restaurant and then went up a flight of marble steps.
“Voila!” Buster spread his arms wide when we reached the top of the stairs and the rooftop bar. From the second floor vantage point, we could see over the pool to the Indian Ocean where the fading sunlight cast a hue of gold over the teal-blue water. Sleek white rattan chairs and scoop-backed couches were arranged throughout the space around low square tables. White standing umbrellas dotted the perimeter of the rooftop while high-top metal tables ran along the glass-and-chrome railing.
A wall of greenery had been erected near the entrance, centered with a floating sign of the word “Cheers” in shiny gold script. An old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub filled with glass balls that looked like shimmering, oversized bubbles sat to one side.
“What’s in the bubbles?” I asked when I noticed the glass balls weren’t empty.
“Salad bites,” Buster said, rocking back on his heels. “The bottom of the tub is filled with ice packs to keep them cold.
Kate picked up one of the bubbles, inspecting the leafy greens inside. “Pretty clever.”
Richard plucked a miniature silver fork from the metal bath caddy stretched across the tub that held cocktail napkins and silverware, then picked up a salad bubble and took a taste. “Is this a tropical vinaigrette?”
Mack held up his hands. “We just do the decor. You’ll have to ask the chef about the contents.”
“I wonder if the chef would share his recipe?” Richard said. “I can’t tell if this is papaya or something else. But whatever it is, it’s out of this world.”
I walked from the bathtub to a Plexiglas cube that held a display of fruits carved to look like flowers. “Who carved the mango to look like fish?”
Kate leaned close to the elaborate carvings. “And are the fish swimming through leaves cut from mango, too? It’s like looking at a fruit diorama.”
“All the chef’s doing,” Buster admitted. “And his staff. But what do you think of our floral life rings?”
He pointed above the bar to a pair of life rings made from pink roses in shades ranging from blush to soft pink to fuchsia. Below them sat a long, deep bucket made out of ice, filled with more ice and packed full of bottles.
I patted Buster on the back. “You and Mack did a great job. I’m sorry no one else will get to see this.”
Richard pulled two bottles from the ice bucket and handed one to me. “I’m not normally a beer drinker, but I think today calls for it.”
“Agreed.” Kate grabbed two bottles by the neck and pulled them out, passing them to Fern before pulling out two more.
Buster and Mack twisted off their caps and raised the bottles in the air. “To this week getting better.”
Fern clinked his bottle against mine. “Yes, please. I’m getting tired of dead bodies.”
“Do you know who died today?” Mack asked as we made our way over to a cluster of low white furniture grouped around a wide table, a box of wheat grass adorning the center.
I took a seat on the long couch between Mack and Richard while Kate, Fern, and Buster each took chairs facing us.
“Do we know?” Kate jerked a finger in my direction. “Annabelle is the one who discovered the body.”
Buster’s jaw dropped. “What? We had no idea.”
Mack put a hand on my knee. “Are you okay?”
I smiled at him, trying to force the image of the dead woman’s face out of my mind. “I’m fine. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Dina was on a lounge chair, and I tried to wake her up.”
Buster scratched his bald head and the black motorcycle goggles he wore on top rode up a few inches. “Dina. Which one was she?”
“Pale with dark hair,” Fern said. “She wore it up in a high bun last night. Probably to give her a poor woman’s face lift.”
Mack gave his head a shake. “I don’t think we met her.”
“She was friends with the other victim, Veronica,” I said.
“The blonde with split ends,” Fern said.
Richard arched a brow. “Someone has good eyes.”
Fern fluttered his eyelashes. “It’s a gift.” He leaned over and patted Richard’s shoulder. “And you could use a deep conditioning, sweetie.”
Richard narrowed his eyes at Fern but put a hand to his dark, choppy hair. “We’d just walked up when Annabelle discovered Dina.” He gestured to Kate and Fern. “These two were sitting a few chairs away from her the entire time.”
Fern gasped, reaching for Kate with one hand. “He’s right. We were only feet away from a corpse for who knows how long.”
I’d been so caught up with the shock of realizing Dina was dead, then the chaos that followed calling hotel security, I’d forgotten two of my best friends were the closest witnesses. I thought back to the row of lounge chairs and the three empty ones separating Dina from Kate and Fern. “Was anyone sitting between you at any point?”
Kate reclined in her chair and swiveled it in a half circle so that she faced Fern. “I don’t think so, do you?”
Fern tapped a finger to his temple. “Wasn’t there someone between us when she arrived? But then they left right afterward?”
“Someone you recognized?” I asked.
Fern looked heavenward, shaking his head. “It might have been that talkative bride, but it’s a bit fuzzy.”
“Fuzzy because of all the drinks you had?” I tapped a foot on the marble floor. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the empty cocktail glasses when we came back.”
Fern pressed a hand to his heart. “Are you implying that all those were mine?” He winked at me and laughed. “Honey, I wish. Those drinks were delicious, but half of those glasses were Kate’s.”
I turned my gaze on Kate.
“What?” she said. “It’s not a crime to have a cocktail or two on the beach. It wasn’t like I knew I’d need to remember everything because someone was going to turn up dead.”
I let my shoulders relax a bit. “No, you’re right. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”
“I can tell you that Dina talked to a few people on her way to her chair but not much more than saying hi,” Kate said. “Once she picked out her chair and ordered her drinks, she wasn’t very talkative. She seemed to want to be left alone.”
Since her friend was murdered, I wasn’t surprised she’d wanted a bit of solitude to go with her sun.
“We did recommend she try the elderflower and the lychee drinks,” Fern added.
Kate nodded. “Because she asked about the frozen green drink Fern was drinking.”
Fern closed his eyes as if remembering the cocktail. “The frozen lychee martini.”
“And she ordered one?” I asked.
“The frozen one, yes,” Fern said.
I thought back to the empty glasses on the table next to Dina. “But there were more than one empty glass when we found her.”
“She said she was dying of thirst.” Fern shivered. “We thought she was exaggerating, but I suppose not.”
I thought back to Reese asking me if the victim had seemed dehydrated.
Kate snapped her fingers and looked at Fern. “She was sent a drink, remember?”
“That’s right.” He bobbed his head up and down at Kate. “And I told you that it was unfair that someone with those laugh lines was being sent a drink and we weren’t.”
I overlooked Fern’s critique of the dead woman. “She was sent a drink? Are you sure?” Was this how she was killed? It would fit the killer’s MO since Veronica had also been poisoned.
“Don’t you remember?” Kate said to Fern. “Once we heard what the waiter said, we thought it was especially unfair.”
Richard sat up. “What did the waiter say?”
“That the drink was a kickoff cocktail for tonight’s dinner,” Fern said, looking over his shoulder even though we were the only people on the rooftop bar. “Compliments of Carol Ann.”