Bare-Naked Lola (A Lola Cruz Mystery) (27 page)

I let my eyes open wide. “Is that the cottage you said is available?”

“Sure is. If you want to rent it out, you’d be right down the hall from me,” he added with a wink.

“Rent it out? Lola,” Zac said with a hiss. “
Ven aquí
.”

I turned and frowned at him, making angry eyes. Then I turned to Lucy. She got the message. She put her hand on Zac’s arm and whispered something in his ear. He visibly relaxed, but I still thought he’d rather be anywhere but here, and I got the impression that he definitely didn’t trust what I was doing or what Craig was saying…or maybe both.

I shifted my thoughts back to my investigation. Did Jennifer’s affairs have anything to do with their divorce? “I’m not sure about giving up my apartment,” I said.

“Lots of people transition slowly. Jennifer—that’s my ex-wife,” he clarified, since, of course, he didn’t know that
I
knew who she was, “was the only person I knew who never hesitated in her commitment to the naturist lifestyle.”

Based on Selma’s inner conflict, I had to believe that was true. The only problem was that I knew Jennifer
did
have another place on the outside. “She must have been really special,” I said.

“She would’ve thought you have too many clothes on,” Craig said.

I grimaced at his suggestive tone, but my thoughts spiraled. I’d seriously considered Larry might be Jennifer’s murderer and the mysterious letter-writer. Against my will, I’d wondered if Selma could be involved. But what about Craig? Could he be an Academy Award–caliber actor, completely fooling me about his nonchalance over Jennifer’s death? Or had he really still been in love with her, found out about the affairs, written the letters, and then killed her?

“I tried to leave something to the imagination,” I said.

“You did.” He skirted around me, pulling open the door that led to the event room. Beyoncé was done singing about rings on her finger, another song had ended, and now the first strains of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” played. I leaned against the banister. Squeals erupted from down below. Red plastic cups were held high into the air. The people scurried toward the center of the room as the song played. As if expertly choreographed, the people started the “Thriller” zombie dance. If I hadn’t been on a case, determined to figure out what this place had to do with Jennifer’s death, I’d have laughed at the naked spectacle. Instead, I let Craig lead me to the stairs. A quick search of the room told me that if Larry were here, it might be more difficult to find him than I’d thought. Nudist costumes didn’t just mean a mask and nothing else.

At the bottom of the stairs, I spotted what had to be the most creative costume I’d seen so far. A woman in roller skates glided by. She had a thick rope tied around her waist. A man with a cardboard crank attached to his back, his face and body painted at the joints so he resembled a wind-up Ken doll, held onto the length of rope and pulled her across the floor.

Recognition dawned. Selma Mann.

So the wind-up toy had to be Parker, her boyfriend, and their pre-party party must be over.

“Selma!” I called, waving my hand in the air. I couldn’t believe it, but I was sort of getting used to seeing naked people. I hardly flinched when Parker turned full frontal on me, and only jumped a tiny bit when Craig’s muscular arm brushed against mine.

Like an ice skater, Selma lifted one straight leg in front of her as she glided along the floor, pulled by Parker. She saw me, and her brightly painted cheeks rose as her hot pink lips formed an
O
. She yanked on the rope until Parker stopped, then she skated over to us, towing her boy-toy behind her.

“Not bad, Lola. Kinda conservative, but I’m impressed.”

“She could stand to lose some of it,” Craig said.

Selma tilted her painted face, considering me. “She should take off the shirt but leave on the tie.”

Suddenly, Selma lunged toward me and grabbed the knot of my shirt from between my breasts. My first instinct was to knock her hands away and block her with my fisted forearms, but I kept myself in check. She knew my purpose here, but no one else did, and I couldn’t overreact.

“Come with me; I’ll help you,” she said.

I stepped backward but she’d picked the knot and my shirt started to fall open. Craig’s eyes were glued to my chest, so I grabbed the flaps of the shirt and held them closed. “I’m okay, really.”

Before I knew what was happening, Craig was behind me, his hands on my shirt, tugging it down to slip it off my shoulders.

This time my instincts kicked in and I didn’t fight them. I raised my arms. “
¡Basta!
” I snapped, using every ounce of reserve I could muster to stop myself from stomping on his exposed toe. But I swung around to plunge the heel of my hand against his chin. He tried to hold onto my shirt as I moved away from him, but I gripped tightly in front. This shirt was coming with me.

“Just the tie, huh? Remember, this is only my second time here,” I said with a nervous laugh. “I need to work up to it, and this is allowed.” I quickly retied the ends of the shirt, but with my cleavage plumped I felt exposed by the sheer fabric and the short skirt.

“Work up to what?”

A shiver swept over me at the gravelly voice. My biggest underlying anxiety about the night, aside from potentially facing a killer, was the fear that Jack might show up, but it turned out I’d miscalculated. This was worse.

Manny Camacho stood behind me.

In black leather pants and bare-chested. No
panza
for him. Not even a single bit of fat, let alone a belly. Manny had
un cuerpo espectacular
.

What in the hell was my boss doing at
Cuerpo y Alma
? Another shiver danced over my skin and I swallowed.
Híjole
. Was he a member?

“
Nada
,” I said just as Parker wound up the rope attached to Selma’s waist, rolling her toward him. She lifted her hand in a quick, horror-stricken wave. She didn’t want to be recognized by Manny. Without even so much as a
ta-ta
, she skated away.

I pushed my fake glasses up the bridge of my nose. “Wait, I want to talk to—” I started to say to her, but I zipped my lips as a woman came up behind Manny, her red-tipped fingernails scraping his skin as her hand snaked over his shoulder. Oh God, was he back with Isabel? Had he brought Tomb Raider Girl?

But then the woman moved to his side and I saw that it wasn’t Manny’s model ex-girlfriend.

It
was,
however, the sexiest policewoman I’d ever seen. The black, shiny bodice of the dress only half covered her breasts, and the skirt was shorter than mine—and that was saying a lot. A sexy thigh holster held a fake gun and a pair of handcuffs dangled from a clip on the holster. She’d rounded out the costume with slinky black fishnet stockings.

My eyes flew wide open. I recognized her immediately. Her velvety hair cascaded down her back. A black choker encircled her long neck. Oh. My. God. Victoria Wolfe.

Here. With Manny.

The world was off its axis, especially because I knew that I had my Victoria’s Secret thong on underneath my schoolgirl skirt, but I wasn’t so sure she had on anything. And from the glimmer in her eyes, I got the distinct impression she wouldn’t mind arresting Manny, slapping her handcuffs on him, and frisking him.

“Good to see you, Lola,” Manny said, his gaze boring into mine with such intensity that a shudder fluttered over my skin.

I swallowed, finding my voice, keeping my cover in front of Craig but wanting to know what the hell was going on. “I never expected to see you here.”

“I read something about this place,” he said slowly, and I suddenly knew exactly what he’d been reading. The whiteboard for the case at the office. I swallowed. Was he checking up on me and my ability to do my job?

“I heard about it from a friend,” Victoria said, and I got the very definite impression that the friend had been Jennifer. But if she knew that Jennifer came here, why hadn’t she mentioned it?

“Decided to check it out,” Manny said, his gravelly voice sounding like it had an extra layer of rocks in it. His lips were drawn tight and his nostrils flared. He wasn’t entirely comfortable. Good to know Manny had limits, too. I’d often wondered.

“Dragged him here in my car is more like it,” Victoria said with a demure laugh. “I’m always willing to try new things. Lance? Not so much. Do you know I parked behind those buildings, as close to the front entrance as I could, just so he wouldn’t back out.”

“Wait,” Craig said, suddenly speaking up. “You all know each other?”

“He’s a Royals fan,” I said, shoving my nerves away.

“Aren’t we all? You a player?” he said to me, his thin lips quirking up at his joke.

“A dancer,” I said. And with any luck, that gig would be up soon.

There was a pause as he processed this, and I knew just what he was thinking. Had I known Jennifer?

“How did you say you found out about
Cuerpo y Alma
?” he asked me, as if he were trying to figure out if it was a coincidence that I was here, or if I’d come because I knew he murdered his ex-wife. Which, of course, I didn’t know and wasn’t even sure I believed, since I had no evidence.

I kept playing along, darting quick glances at Manny and Victoria to keep their lips zipped. “A friend,” I answered.

“Well,” he said, extending his hand to Manny. “Royals fans are always welcome here. So are the Royals themselves,” he added, indicating one particularly tall man dressed as a gladiator. I recognized him but didn’t remember his name or number.

“So I noticed,” Manny said, glancing at a group of people who’d painted half their naked bodies blue, the other half white.

I couldn’t help but notice that Craig didn’t comment on my boss being overdressed, and he certainly wasn’t trying to strip his black leather pants off of him like he’d tried to remove my shirt. I shook my head.

“
Mujeriego
,” I muttered. Craig was a big-time player with a wide-open field of women right here in his yard. All the more reason to be a nudist—er, naturist.

Manny’s dark eyebrows shot up. He’d understood me. I shrugged. Let him think I was talking about him. He did have a girlfriend. And an ex-wife, so the fact that he was here with Victoria—and without Lance—meant maybe calling him a player wasn’t too far off the mark.

As if he could read my mind and decided to act the part, his eyes smoldered and slipped down to take in my costume. His lips parted, just slightly, but enough to know he liked my psuedo-innocent costume
un poquito
better than he liked Victoria’s bad-girl get-up.

“How about that tour?” I said to Craig, once again feeling overly exposed even though I was one of the most clothed people around.

Across the room, I saw Lucy and Zac dancing. Or Lucy dancing and Zac staring vacantly, still shell-shocked. His horror-filled eyes roved the room, stopping every now and then on a body before moving on. I didn’t blame him. One thing I was learning was that nudists came in every shape, size, and age, and no matter what those factors were, they had an underlying confidence about them. They were proud of their birthday suits.

“Sure thing,” Craig said, “but I need a couple minutes. Gotta check the food tables.” He turned to Victoria. “Good to see you—”

“Going to be quite a night,” Victoria interrupted, throwing her shoulders back, preening like a peacock. All for Manny’s benefit, I suspected. Or maybe for the guy she waved at across the room.
Pobrecito
Lance.

As Craig wandered off toward the buffet, I called after him. “I’m going to get some air.” He nodded at me, and then his bare behind disappeared in the sea of naked bodies.

I wheeled around and threw my hands on my hips, staring at Manny and Victoria. “Why are you here?”

“We saw your notes on the whiteboard,” Manny said.

Victoria chimed in. “I knew Jennifer came here, but I never imagined…Do you really think there’s a connection? Does this place have something to do with Jennifer’s death?”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out. Nothing makes any sense. She had her place in Natomas, but her ex-husband says she only lived here. She kept this place a secret, but you know about it, so who else does? She had a boyfriend but no one can tell me who he is, and that doesn’t quite jive with all the jerseys and pictures we found at the apartment. Nothing makes a whole lot of sense,” I said again.

Manny’s dark eyes narrowed. “We’ll circulate in here,” he said.

“I’d say call me if
you
find anything, but no cell phones.”

Victoria was already scanning the crowd. In case things with Manny didn’t work out? I had another moment of sympathy for her husband. The way she was eyeing the gladiator made me wonder if she ever broke her own rules.

But that was not for me to worry about. I was going to take a self-guided tour of the grounds.

I walked across the courtyard, past the pool area. A few people soaked in the hot tub, but otherwise the grounds were deserted. I headed around the pool, and just as I was about to turn right, in the direction of the restaurant, the squeak of a door opening drifted through the air. I turned toward the row of buildings along the edge of the grounds, bordering the parking lot.

I moved closer, peering into the darkness, my breath catching in my throat when I saw a dark shadow move from one building to the next. I went with my instinct. Whoever it was had to be doing something they shouldn’t be.

A flurry of nerves hit the pit of my stomach. I had no plan. I’d come tonight to ferret out information, not to chase down a bad guy. No weapon, other than my black belt in kung fu. With no backup. I moved forward anyway, stealthy as a cat on the hunt, curious. And suspicious. But I stopped abruptly when a hand came down on my shoulder.

A scream shot up my throat, but another hand clamped over my mouth, stifling it before I could unleash it into the quiet night.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Shhh. Lola, it’s me.”

Jack? My senses were tingling and I suddenly felt something hard against my hip.
¡Ay, caramba!