“Really?”
I was under the impression that MacArthur’s main job was keeping Cassina sober.
“But MacArthur’s not available,” I said. “He works part-time for me.”
Chester pulled a face. “Nobody’s buying or selling real estate!”
He extracted a business card from the inside pocket of his school blazer and handed it to Susan.
“I happen to know that MacArthur is looking for work this weekend,” he told her.
“You said he was gone,” I protested. “You said nobody was at the Castle!”
“I said nobody answered the door. Cassina and Rupert are in Brazil for some R and R. They left their bodyguard at home.”
“What about Avery and the twins? Where are they?”
“At a New Age ‘Mommy and Me’ retreat in Sedona,” Chester replied. “MacArthur was probably taking a nap when I knocked. He gets bored when everybody leaves the Castle.”
Before I could comment, three shots rang out in rapid succession. A woman, presumably Ramona, screamed theatrically.
What Susan, Chester, and I did next wasn’t smart, but it was expedient. We dashed to the nearest window that faced my driveway and peered out. Sprawled on the pavement next to Susan’s Audi lay a human heap. Jeb had flung himself on top of ample, prone Ramona, who appeared to be not only alive and unhurt but also capable of seizing the moment. Her bejeweled left hand gripped Jeb’s firm ass.
Chester turned to Susan. “If you’re going anywhere with that lady, or in that car, you’d better call MacArthur now.”
“You can call the cleaner later,” I told her. “First, we’re phoning Jenx.”
It was time, once again, to summon the Magnet Springs police force to my home. Fortunately, I had the chief on speed dial.
Chapter Four
To call it the Magnet Springs “police force” is an exaggeration. It’s really the full-time chief and her trained canine, plus one part-time officer. The officer, Brady Swancott, is a nice enough, smart enough guy, but he’s better suited to pursuing online degrees than felons. So I was glad when Chief Judy “Jenx” Jenkins answered her own phone.
“Whassup, Whiskey?”
I could hardly understand her.
“Are you eating?” I said.
“Yup. Dinner. It’s that time of day. Somebody better be in serious trouble.”
I assured her that somebody was and reported the gunshot incidents. Both of them. Jenx chewed thoughtfully.
“Nobody’s hurt, right?”
“Right. Although there are bullet holes in a very nice white Audi. And a large, dramatic woman is lying in my driveway. She’s attached herself to Jeb.”
“Jeb can defend himself,” Jenx said. “But we should probably do an incident report on the shootings. You think the shooter’s on your property-or across the road?”
I hadn’t thought about it. The question raised hairs on the back of my neck.
“Tell ya what I’m gonna do,” Jenx said and burped. “Brady’s out on rounds with Officer Roscoe. They checked in ten minutes ago from your side of the township. I’m gonna send ‘em over to Vestige, siren off. Just in case the shooter’s still around. Maybe we can catch him off guard. You know what you need to do, right?”
“Hire private security?”
“We’ll talk about that later. For now, stay inside and keep away from the windows.”
I took a giant step back from the large glass pane facing my driveway. Susan and Chester did the same. We were safer that way, but I hated to lose the view of Jeb and Ramona. Apparently either she or the car she had come in was the target of someone with a long-range rifle. And she desperately craved attention. My ex had never been fond of heavy women, or of females who required a lot of pampering. Hence his attraction to lean, mean, independent me. But for now he was stuck catering to zaftig, needy Ramona.
“Is Chester there?” Jenx inquired.
“As a matter of fact, he is.”
“Let me talk to him.”
“If it’s about keeping him safe, I got it covered.”
“This is police business, Whiskey. Chester is on active duty as a volunteer deputy. I want to update his instructions.”
Since I was also a sworn-to-serve volunteer deputy, I asked for my instructions.
“You’re on hiatus,” Jenx said.
Like a professional, Chester excused himself to take the call in the next room. That left me alone with Susan, who seemed completely at ease with silence. I, on the other hand, had a lifelong compulsion to supply meaningless chatter. As Susan moved about my library, studying recumbent Abra from every angle, I considered several conversation starters. Unfortunately they all involved Jeb. Since I wasn’t yet sure he was worth fighting for, I stifled my natural tendency to talk.
Susan stared at my still-snoozing canine. “How can she sleep through gunshots?”
“Practice,” Chester offered, reentering the room. “We’ve all toughened up.”
“Are you saying that you’ve been exposed to danger?”
Chester shrugged. “I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve fallen through the ice. I’ve worked undercover. If you hang around Whiskey, you take your chances.”
“That’s a fact,” Jeb said from the library doorway. He looked none the worse for gunshots.
“Where the hell’s Ramona?” I said. “Don’t tell me you left her lying on her big fat-“
And then there was Ramona, leaning on Jeb.
“Whiskey,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I am so sorry!” I said. “We haven’t been properly introduced-“
“She means she wants whiskey,” Jeb translated. “Did you forget her drink order?”
“Johnny Walker Black,” Chester reminded me. To Ramona, he said, “Straight up or with a little water? Sorry, but Whiskey’s fresh out of ice and mixes.”
For the first time since her arrival, Ramona focused on someone other than my ex-husband. “Aren’t you rather young to serve cocktails? Or are you one of those-oh, what’s the accepted term?-‘little people’?”
“I’m eight,” Chester said. “But I have a lot of experience.”
“He’s in charge of Whiskey’s dog whenever Whiskey neglects her,” Susan piped up.
“I don’t neglect Abra,” I said. “I just… forget about her.”
“Nurturing doesn’t come naturally for Whiskey,” Chester explained.
“That’s not true,” I protested. Although of course it was. “I took in my former stepdaughter and her twins, didn’t I?”
Chester nodded. “But you hired Deely to take care of them. And you’ve hired Deely and me to take care of Abra.”
Before I could object-and, really, how could I object?-Jeb said, “You do all right taking care of me. Most of the time.”
He winked. I buried my face inside the liquor cabinet, where I searched high and low for Ramona’s scotch. Most of what was in there I had inherited from Leo. Only when tempted by a man did I drink anything stronger than wine.
“It’s the third bottle on the left, top shelf,” Chester said helpfully.
So it was. He handed me a rock glass, and I poured a finger of the amber liquid into it.
“Better give her more than that,” Chester whispered.
I doubled the dose. Ramona didn’t respond when I asked if she’d like water, so I served the drink neat. She
