Still as Death by J.A. Kazimer

Author:J.A. Kazimer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, southern humor, everglades, family feud, family loyalty, whiskey distillery, hollywood celebrity
Publisher: Beyond the Page Publishing

Chapter 24

“What would you have said if he decided to call your brother?” I asked as Brodie motioned me up the staircase to Marcus’s former room. He followed behind, close enough I could smell the spicy aroma of his aftershave. I tried to place the warm and inviting scent, much like the finest of whiskeys.

“I knew he wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

We arrived at the top step. I hesitated on the threshold, afraid of what we might find or worse, what we wouldn’t. Talking to Wendell hadn’t provided much in the way of a new suspect. And what would happen if we didn’t find any clues inside?

Brodie took my arm, turning me away from the doorway to face him. “Why don’t you wait here,” he said, his face softening with sympathy. “I can look around by myself.”

“No.” I faced the door once more, but didn’t make a move to go inside.

“Danny umps for the league,” he said randomly.

I blinked a few times. “What?”

A smirk lifted the corners of his mouth. “Wendell tried to steal second base last season. Danny called him out. Wendell was so mad he spit at my brother, which is when things went from bad to worse for Wendell. Danny tossed him out of the game.” He laughed. “Since then, every time those two are together, Danny rubs it in.”

My brow crinkled. “What does that have to with anything?”

His laugh deepened. “Wendell has taken to avoiding my brother at all costs. I knew he wouldn’t want to talk to him willingly, so I made the offer for him to call Danny.” He snapped his fingers. “Worked like a charm”—his eyes found mine—“Charms.”

I stifled an eye roll. “I’d say you’re an evil genius, but I’d be lying about the last part.” The story and our banter eased the tension tightening my body.

“It’s a gift,” he said with a chuckle, and then quickly sobered as he nodded toward the door. “It’s now or never.”

Taking a deep breath, I blew it out through my mouth, straightened my back. “Let’s do this.”

He flipped open a pocketknife he’d pulled from his worn jeans. The blade sparkled in the sunlight. Like butter, the knife sliced through the yellow band of crime scene tape with a bunch of threatening legal language across it.

And just like that, we were in.

Two less-than-criminal masterminds.

Brodie motioned me inside. The room was much like I remembered it, The awful landscape above the bed looking just as bad as it had only forty-eight hours before. Had it really only been two days since I’d stood in front of a very alive and angry Marcus? In too many ways, it felt like a lifetime had passed.

“Looks like someone was searching for something.” Brodie waved to the disarray, including an unmade bed and Marcus’s designer clothes, which were strewn around. I ran my hand over the shirt Marcus had worn at Jack’s party. A shirt that hung over the back of a stained chair.

“In Hollywood, Marcus had a housekeeper.”

“So?”

“So he wasn’t used to cleaning up after himself.

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