Clutching the laptop to my chest, I moved stealthily out of the bedroom and down the hall. Hopefully they weren’t heading straight to the bedroom. What would Houston do if he caught us? I edged to the corner and slowly peeked around the wall. It was Houston all right. And the woman with him was Laura Duval! I almost shouted out her name but caught myself in the nick of time.
I tiptoed back to the bedroom and reported to Johnny who was crouched behind the far side of the king-sized bed. ‘It’s Houston and Laura from the thrift shop.’
Johnny bit his fingernails. ‘You’ve really done it this time, Miller. What are we going to do if they come in here?’
‘Hide under the bed?’ I suggested.
He glowered. ‘I already tried that. It’s on a platform.’
Yikes. ‘Closet?’
‘Sure,’ he said, way more snidely than he need have. ‘Because nobody ever goes into a closet.’
‘Do you have a better idea?’ I demanded.
Johnny pouted. ‘No.’
‘We could go out the bedroom window.’ I looked at the big window appraisingly. ‘No problem.’ One curtain was pulled open, the other shut. Moonlight gave us just enough light to stop us banging our shins into hard objects.
‘Sure,’ said Johnny. ‘Only we have to open it and take the screen out first.’ Johnny gave me a blistering look. ‘All without making a sound and I don’t think that’s poss—’
‘Shh!’ I hissed, dropping to my knees. ‘Someone’s coming,’ I whispered close to Johnny’s ear. I settled in beside him. From this angle we could see down the hall a bit. There was plenty of light coming from the front room now. Laura was silhouetted against the wall.
‘I’ll only be a moment,’ she called over her shoulder.
I pushed away from Johnny and raced to the bedroom door. ‘Pssst!’
‘Oh!’ Laura gasped.
‘Everything OK?’ I heard Houston ask loudly.
‘Fine, just fine,’ Laura called back, though she sounded rattled.
I pumped my arms at her, hoping she’d understand that I wanted her to keep her voice down. ‘It’s me, Maggie. Maggie Miller,’ I said as quietly as possible. Laura hung in the shadows near the powder room for a moment then came toward me.
I backed away from the bedroom door, pulled her inside and shut the door behind her.
‘Maggie, what are you doing here?’ Laura’s hand went to her chest. ‘You about scared me to death.’
‘Me and Johnny were looking for clues as to Lisa Willoughby’s killer.’
‘Johnny?’ Laura appeared confused.
Johnny popped up from behind the bed and I clapped my hand over Laura’s hand to smother her scream. Laura stared at Johnny, then at my hand covering her mouth.
‘Bufyoucamfbe,’ she began. I lowered my hand. ‘But you can’t be here,’ Laura said. ‘Houston’s staying here. He’s in the other room right now.’
‘We know,’ replied Johnny. ‘We’re trapped.’ He was looking at me when he said it.
‘You’ve got to help us,’ I said, grabbing Laura’s hand.
‘What do you want me to do?’
I thought for a moment. ‘Distract him. Get him out on the patio. Better yet, take him up to your place.’
‘My place?’ Laura didn’t appear to like the sound of that.
‘That would be perfect,’ Johnny piped in, his head bobbing.
‘Fine,’ Laura relented after a moment. She shook her head as she said, ‘But I don’t like this one bit.’
‘Thanks.’ I gave her a squeeze.
Laura headed for the door, resting her hand on the knob. ‘Give me five minutes.’
We nodded agreement. I shot Johnny a thumbs up. He shot me something back. It wasn’t a thumb. We waited in silence for five minutes to pass and it felt like five hours.
‘Finally.’ I pressed my ear to the door. ‘Sounds like they’re leaving.’
Johnny pirouetted to the door with all the grace of a doe. I had to admit, the guy had some moves. ‘The coast is clear. Let’s get out of here before Houston gets back.’ I followed Johnny to the door. He stopped dead in his tracks. ‘Leave it,’ he insisted. He was pointing to the laptop.
‘But it could be full of clues.’ I clutched the laptop tighter to my chest. ‘This computer could lead us straight to Lisa’s killer.’
‘And if we’re caught with the thing it could lead both of us straight to jail.’ Johnny blocked the front door. ‘Leave it, Miller.’
‘Fine,’ I said, letting out a surrendering breath. ‘I’m putting it back.’
A minute later, we were on the road. I looked around, half-expecting to see Brad Smith spying on us, but there was no sign of him or his car.
Ten minutes later I stopped at the gated entrance to Four Seasons.
‘What are we doing here?’ Johnny asked.
The guard asked my name and my business. I jerked a thumb toward Johnny in the passenger seat.
The guard nodded and let us in.
I eased up into Johnny’s driveway. Outdoor lighting lit the palms, cacti and the front of the house, showcasing its magnificence. ‘Goodnight, Johnny. I think it’s time for you to sleep in your own bed, in your own house.’
One house guest at a time was enough – more than enough – for me.
‘Fine.’ Johnny kicked open the door. ‘Your couch is terrible anyway.’ One of his legs tangled in a purse strap. He snarled, unhooked his foot and thrust the purses at me. ‘Why the devil do you carry two purses anyway?’ He tossed them on the empty passenger seat. ‘Goodnight, Miller.’
I wiggled my fingers. ‘Give my love to Clive!’
He started up the driveway alongside his beloved BMW. I put the Bug in reverse. Johnny spun around. ‘Wait a minute!’
‘What now?’ I sighed. ‘I’m tired. I have to be up early in the morning.’ Like every morning. It was one of the downsides to owning a beignet café.
Johnny thrust his head through the open passenger window, staring at the purses. One red, one black. ‘Why do you have two purses, Miller? How do you have two purses?’ His jaw tightened. ‘You only had one when we left your house.’
Sure, suddenly he’s Mr Observant. I pushed my tongue across my upper lip. ‘Uh, the red one was in the car already. It’s my mom’s.’
He frowned. ‘You left your apartment with the red one.’
‘Oh, yeah. I meant the black one.’
Johnny slitted his eyes at me. ‘You stole it, didn’t you?’
My hands clutched the steering wheel and my foot held the brake pedal down. I stared straight ahead.
‘You took a dead woman’s purse.’ He shook his head, admonishing me. I could see his look of disgust from the corner of my eye.
‘Fine,’ I admitted. ‘You said to leave the laptop.’ I turned and faced him down. ‘You didn’t say anything about purses. Or anything else, for that matter.’
‘Miller,’ Johnny drew the surname out so far I thought it would break. The fingers of his right hand played against the hard plastic dash.
‘Fine.’ He threw the door open, lifted the purses off the seat and sat back down. He set the purses between us.
‘Listen, Johnny.’ I put my foot down. ‘I am not going back there. It’s late and besides, Houston might be home by now and—’
‘And nothing, Miller,’ snapped Johnny. ‘Stop talking and open Lisa’s purse. Let’s see what you’ve found.’