Iced

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Chad finally showed up and had taken control, giving orders all around. It was late in the afternoon before I was free to leave. My feet wanted a soak and I wanted to banish from my mind the feel of Pastor Drake grabbing me, and the image of his body impaled. I wanted to forget that vacant stare from his lifeless eyes, and I really wanted to quit feeling like I would have handcuffs slapped on me any moment.

I had just left the convention center and started walking away from the complex of buildings including the resort and my office towards home. I didn’t want to walk home, even though it was only five minutes away. A car pulled up next to me and Brad rolled his window down.

“Um, Miss LaMere. Can I give you a lift home? After all this, you shouldn’t be walking alone. Besides, I think you won’t get far.” He nodded his head towards the reporters on the other side of the road, kept at a distance by the police. Ah, the speed of social media sharing and cell phones. I hadn’t considered news crews following me, hounding me for details I didn’t want to ever think of again until the sight of the sensationalist news gauntlet.

I typically kept my private life, including where I live, to myself at work. I didn’t like mixing work with my private life since I was training in management, but I really didn’t want reporters descending on my home sanctuary. I sighed. These were extenuating circumstances and everyone knew I lived close since I walked.

“I appreciate it Brad. Please keep it to yourself where I live, though.”

“Oh, no problem.” We were quiet except for directions. As soon as the car turned off the main road and into the townhome complex with nicely landscaped grounds, I saw a small crowd loitering in front of my particular home. Great, I now had to run a different sort of gauntlet...my inquiring neighbors.

They no doubt had heard the emergency vehicle sirens and seen any TV news and were awaiting my arrival. I live in a unique townhome complex with a collection of colorful neighbors. Brad pulled over at the curb outside my stucco two-story townhome unit. I felt like I was in high school again and my peers were sizing me up on the first day of school after break. Brad was slowly inching the car away, looking at my house more intently than any realtor. So much for my separating work and private life. Probably wasn’t a good idea after all.

Delores and Beverly approached me. I was about to be grilled by the masters of interrogation. The police had nothing on these two. Bright copper haired Beverly was turning seventy next year, but the short tattooed dynamo rarely sat still for long. Delores was about five years younger, was taller, and had a penchant for wine, lots of it.

"Let's start with the good news. Have you seen the hot new guy that moved into number eighty-two?" Beverly set her perfectly plucked eyebrows dancing up and down. I hadn’t seen that one coming. I had fully expected to be hounded about Drake’s murder.

I glanced across the street and noticed a small rental van and one guy unloading that I’d missed until now. Hey, I was still shaken up. He was broad shouldered with rippling muscles showing under his short-sleeved rust t-shirt, shoulder length wavy dark brown hair, and long legs.

But, even as pleasantly distracting as he was, I just couldn't give the "hot new guy" any serious thought at the moment. I felt a little nauseous as visions of Pastor Tom’s dead body hanging like a limp scarecrow on the end of the icy swordfish nose with dripping blood continued to pop into my mind.

"Beverly, I’ve had a bad day. I want to soak in a hot bath with a cold drink and forget what has happened."

"So, we’ll meet you in the club house hot tub with a pitcher of margaritas ready." Delores patted her short hair. “Maybe number eighty-two can join us to relax his muscles.”

"Nope, I’m not letting you guys get me drunk again. I can't keep up with you two."

“Light weight.” Beverly shot at me.

"Then you’ll have to tell us now what happened to Pastor Drake." Delores chimed in.

I made my polite apologies and sprinted up my front steps. To top off my day, I was out of mint for the Mojitos. I had to resort to a glass of white wine for my steaming bubble bath.