me, I’ll sue.”
Alarmed, Alice whisked the curtain aside. Drake was at the door. He was barefooted and dressed in trousers and a black T-shirt. He had put on his wraparound sunglasses, and Houdini was crouched on his shoulder, all four eyes open. Malloy was backing out into the hall, watching Houdini as if the dust bunny were a snake.
Malloy was a big, burly man who had no doubt been hired because of his intimidating size and junkyard-dog demeanor. He was very good at collecting rent from a clientele that was equally skilled at explaining why they needed one more day to get the money together.
“Houdini, no,” Alice said. She rushed across the room, whisked him off Drake’s shoulder, and tucked him into the crook of her arm. “Please. We don’t need any more trouble.”
Malloy stopped retreating. He glowered at Alice and jerked a beefy thumb at Drake. “I told you, no sneaking in overnight guests. There’s an extra charge if a second person spends the night in the apartment.”
“It wasn’t a whole night,” Alice said. “We didn’t even get here until after midnight.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Malloy announced. “Rules are rules. I already bent one of ’em when I said you could keep the rat here in the apartment.”
“Yes, I know,” Alice said. “It was very kind of you. I realize you’re not going to believe this, but the show closed last night.”
“You’re right, I don’t believe it,” Malloy rasped.
“But I’ve got a new job,” Alice said quickly.
“Is that right?” Malloy did not look impressed.
Drake held up a hand. “How much does she owe you?”
Malloy slitted his eyes. “One fifty.”
Drake looked at Alice, his brows slightly elevated in a silent question.
She sighed. “I’m afraid that’s the correct amount. I had to pay extra for Houdini.” She cleared her throat. “Would you consider advancing me the money and deducting it out of whatever you’re going to pay me for the work on the island?”
“No problem,” Drake said. He went to the small end table next to the couch and picked up his wallet. He took out some cash, came back to the door, and handed the money to Malloy. “You can leave now. And by the way, Ms. North is checking out today.”
“Huh.” Malloy took the bills and glared at Alice. “If you’re not out by noon, you’ll owe me for another full week.”
“We’ll be out by noon,” Alice said.
“Also, there’s a cleaning fee,” Malloy added. “Another one fifty.”
“You got that up front,” Alice shot back.
“We have a policy here at the Dead City Suites. Policy says you pay a move-out cleaning fee as well as a move-in cleaning fee.”
“There was nothing about a second cleaning fee on the rental agreement,” Alice said.
“Policy is policy,” Malloy said.
“You’re right,” Drake said. “Policy is policy, and it had better be in writing because if you really want to collect that cleaning fee, you will have to contact the legal department at Sebastian, Inc. I can guarantee you that the lawyers there will want to see a written agreement detailing cleaning fees.”
Malloy squinted. “Legal department? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Policies,” Drake said. “My company, Sebastian, Inc., has them, too. One of our policies is to make sure our employees don’t get scammed. Ms. North is an employee of the firm so she is entitled to full legal representation in this dispute.”
“Look, I don’t want any trouble with a big-time legal department,” Malloy said uneasily.
“Then get lost.”
Malloy took off, and Drake closed the door.
Alice sighed. “Welcome to my life. It’s a little embarrassing at times.”
“You’d better start packing.”
“That won’t take long,” she said. “I’ve been living out of a couple of suitcases for nearly a year. It’s amazing how much you can do without.”
Drake looked around the sparse space and shook his head. “You’ve been living like this all these months because of Ethel Whitcomb?”
“I told you, the woman thinks I got away with murdering her son. She’s obsessed with punishing me.”
“No question about it,” Drake said. “We need to find out who really did kill Fulton Whitcomb.”
She paused in the bathroom doorway. “Thanks for the cash advance.”
“Money can’t fix everything, but it can make a lot of problems go away.”
THE MARRIAGE OF CONVENIENCE TOOK PLACE IN THE Crystal City Courthouse. Alice estimated that the short business-like process required about the same amount of time as paying a parking fine and involved possibly even fewer ceremonial trappings. The clerk, a plump, gray-haired woman with a kindly face, tried to put a romantic gloss on it all, but when you got right down to it, there was nothing heartwarming or romantic about an MC.
Alice was pretty sure she knew what the sweet-faced woman on the other side of the counter was thinking. Men of wealthy families—families such as the Sebastians—were notorious for using Marriages of Convenience to placate lovers and mistresses who demanded something more in the way of a commitment. The MCs were always terminated when the next woman came along or when the man finally did his duty by the family and entered into a formal Covenant Marriage. He might continue to have women on the side after contracting a CM, of course, but he could no longer offer his lovers the sop of a quasi-legal relationship. They, in turn, had no claim on him.
Although the clerk’s assumptions were obvious enough, Alice was amused to see that Drake was evidently oblivious to them. He focused on the expeditious handling of the business at hand, working swiftly through the paperwork. It was becoming clear that he approached every task with the same single-minded focus.
The only one who appeared to enjoy the short ceremony was Houdini. He went into full-on cute mode and blinked his baby blue eyes at the clerk.
“Aren’t you adorable,” the clerk cooed.
Houdini stared at a jar of wrapped candies and made encouraging noises. The clerk looked at Alice.
“Is it okay to give him one?” the clerk asked.
“I think so,” Alice said. “He seems to be omnivorous.”
The clerk whipped the glass lid off the jar and plucked a candy wrapped in gold foil from the bouquet inside.
Houdini ignored the offering. He sidled up to the jar and selected a different piece of candy—one wrapped in red foil—instead. Chortling with glee, he scurried back to Alice’s shoulder and went to work tearing off the wrapper.
“He likes red,” Alice explained. “It goes with his bow tie.”
The clerk smiled. “I can see that.”
Ignoring them all, Drake signed the last piece of paper registering the MC and handed it to the clerk.
“How long before the record gets into the system?” he asked, indicating a nearby computer.
“Right away,” she assured him. “I’ll enter it as soon as you leave.”
“We’ll wait,” Drake said. “I want to be sure the MC comes up immediately if anyone does a search.”
The clerk raised her brows but merely nodded and moved to the computer. Alice got the impression that people rarely said no to Drake.
It took the clerk only a few minutes to enter the record of the MC.
“There you go, Mr. Sebastian,” she announced. “Congratulations to you both.” She winked at Drake. “You may kiss the bride.”
“Thanks,” Drake said. There was a distinct chill in his voice now. He clamped a hand around Alice’s elbow and steered her toward the door. “Let’s get out of here. We have a plane to catch.”
