Viv lifted the casita key from under the mat. With the door unlocked, she rolled her suitcase over the threshold, placing the key on the kitchen counter. Rex would follow her shortly, so she took a moment to look around.
Someone had been there since they'd left that afternoon. An upscale aroma therapy candle stood on the counter ready to light. With the snap of a match against the box, she lit the candle. The scent of eucalyptus with a hint of ylang-ylang filled her nostrils.
One light in the corner had been left on, giving the room a welcoming and romantic vibe. With the curtains closed, the stage had been set for a perfect romantic interlude. All we need is some Sinatra music, Viv mused.
Viv rolled her suitcase down the hall, choosing the spare bedroom for herself. She hoped Rex didn't mind sleeping in Carmine's room. "Honey, I'm home." She heard his voice calling and then the door closing. She left her suitcase in the suite to say hello.
He'd changed from his working tuxedo to casual slacks and an open-necked shirt, which he let hang over his belt. The casual style took years off his age. "Did you bring your pajamas?" She greeted him with a smile.
"I brought everything a man needs to break into that lock." He tugged his weekender toward the kitchen, hoisting it onto the empty counter. Unzipping the sides, he reached under a sweater and then some underwear.
Viv tried not to look interested in his clothing, but she wondered what he'd packed for their first night together.
Rex held up a bulging pillowcase. "Sutton went to the local hardware store. I've got a screwdriver and a saw right in here. Plus we can always call her if we require another set of hands."
Viv's surprised face made him chuckle. "To break into the locker, silly," he explained. "She's an expert at that sort of thing."
"Phew." She pretended to wipe perspiration from her brow. "I'm not sure I know you well enough for a threesome."
His jaw dropped. "Vivienne Rose! Look at you talking all dirty." He lifted his eyebrows with a teasing grin.
Viv felt her stomach clench. "Oh, I have lots of things that I think about," she informed him. "But just so you don't get any ideas, two's company, three's a crowd. That's what my mother taught me."
"I'm only interested in you, baby." He used a seductive drawl, which made her laugh.
"Just stop. We have work to do. Bring the tools and let's see what's inside that locker. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
He followed her down the hall, the pillowcase with his tools thumping against his leg. To Viv's relief, he didn't hesitate opening the door to Carmine's room. He swung the bag onto the bed.
"If you find something useful in that locker, we may be able to wipe that condescending smirk off of Susan Farrah's face. Once we show her what she missed, that is."
Rex pulled out a pair of latex gloves. An hour later he had successfully removed the door to the locker. Bits of drywall clung to his arm, which he brushed off. "Okay, here we go. Time for the big reveal." Ducking down, he illuminated the area with his cell phone.
"Just a shoebox," he reported, his voice muffled from inside the locker.
"Bring it out so we can have a look," Viv said eagerly.
Once he reached inside, he emerged holding a shoe-sized box. Viv read the brand. "Nike size ten. Sounds familiar."
He handed it to Viv.
She lifted the lid for a peek inside. A slow smile came across her face. "Look what we have here." She handed the box back to him.
One glance and Rex whistled. With his gloves still on, he held up a small thumb drive, which he placed on the bed. Then he gingerly lifted a revolver out of the box and held it in the air.
"Bingo! This has to be the murder weapon!"
Viv felt herself draw back. "I don't know anything about guns. But maybe you shouldn't be waving it around in the air…"
"Don't you worry, sweetheart." Rex lowered the gun. "I'm going to tuck this little baby back in the box and leave it in the locker. We'll tell ol’ Susan Farrah when we're good and ready."
"Isn't that—what do they call it…withholding evidence?"
"Probably," he admitted. "But we have no way of knowing for sure that's the gun that was used to murder Carmine." He closed the lid and walked back into the closet.
Viv followed. She pointed to the holes in the drywall where Rex had removed the hinges. "What about those? Won't someone see and get suspicious? That cleaner guy, for instance. And they'll know it was us because we spent the night."
"He'd suspect your son, not us. Assuming he bought your story earlier." Rex's brow wrinkled. "Give me a minute." He put down the box on the floor. Taking his phone, he texted.
Rex pocketed his phone. "Sutton's on the way. She even has the right color of paint. She got a gallon when we moved in just in case there were touch-ups. There's a good chance that the cleaner won't even notice that we broke in."
"You two are quite the team," she admitted with relief. She looked at her suitcase. "We can go home now that we've found what we're looking for."
When he walked back into the closet and didn't answer, she had to admit that she wanted him to disagree. Maybe suggest that they could stay the night. Why am I feeling this way? Up and down with my feelings. To be frank, he's acting like a perfect gentleman. And why does that annoy me again?
Viv sat on the side of the bed. Catching sight of her unopened suitcase, she sighed. A beautiful nightgown that made her look, well, kind of sexy, lay inside right on top. And her favorite scent, which smelled like jasmine, had been tucked into her makeup bag. Obviously she'd had intentions that she might have not exactly admitted to herself.
Though she'd never make a move toward him, she'd packed just in case he made a move toward her.
But now with Sutton coming over and the need to repair the drywall, Viv felt foolish. And if she were being really honest, doubts replaced her expectation. With Sutton he had a beautiful woman who adored him, who knew him inside and out. So efficient, she bought a gallon of paint to match their interior house color before they even moved in.
Why would he want to be with someone his own age, who had barely scratched the surface of his complicated personality? It didn't make any sense.