The Body in the Backyard (Riley Thorn #4)

by Lucy Score

“You have to help me! Use your weird psychic mumbo jumbo or whatever you have to do. Just don’t let me get murdered,” Griffin whined against her thighs. He looked worryingly pale beneath the orange of his spray tan. “Want me to poke all his pressure points at the same time?” Nick’s cousin-in-law, the ferocious Josie Chan, offered from her battle stance next to her husband, Brian, on the front porch.

“Gentry, if you don’t get your grubby child-size hands off my girlfriend in the next point three seconds, I’ll be doing the murdering,” growled grumpy PI and birthday boy Nick Santiago. “What’s this about murder?” Weber demanded. Even hungover, he was a no-nonsense, rule-following kind of man. Riley had a hunch he’d been the class tattletale in kindergarten. “The guy’s got his badge back for five seconds and instantly turns into the fun police,” Josie complained. “I wanted to watch Nick beat the shit out of Griffin.”

“Come on, babe. Let’s go inside and make out instead,” said Josie’s husband and Santiago Investigations resident tech genius Brian Kepner. He patted his lap, and she hopped on before he guided his wheelchair around the porch toward the side entrance. “We don’t rent rooms by the hour,” Nick yelled after them.

“Nick, what are you going to do?” Riley asked in exasperation. She wasn’t particularly worried for her ex-husband. After all, the man had sued her almost into bankruptcy for breaking his nose after she found him cheating on her in their own bed. But she didn’t want Nick committing any crimes in front of an actual cop who would enjoy arresting him. “I’m just gonna introduce his face to the river until the bubbles stop,” Nick said as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

“I didn’t have sparkling water, so I got it out of the tap and blew bubbles in it through the straw,” Mrs. Penny announced, handing over the glass to Griffin.

“I appreciate the offer…and you not committing murder in our house. Especially since we just got the smell of the last one out.”

“As far as threats go, this one seems kinda vague.” Nick walked past the open doorway headed for the front door, carrying a snow shovel and a cordless drill. “But it’s typed in all caps. Everyone knows that’s more serious in death threats,” Griffin whined.

“Do not go up those stairs, Fred,” Nick barked. “You better turn around when you get to the landing. Do not go up to the second floor! Damn it! Willicott, do not hang those saddlebags on Burt. Burt, do not carry his shit!”

“I need a bodyguard,” Mrs. Penny told Josie. “Who’d you piss off this time?” Josie asked. “Not for me. I can handle myself. Hi-yah!” Mrs. Penny kicked her orthopedic shoe three inches off the ground in a show of not-so-athletic prowess.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded, pointing at the offending eye water. Normal humans cried. Hell, Nick himself had gotten choked up in the first five minutes of the movie Up when his niece had forced him to watch it. But Josie wasn’t normal or human. “You okay, babe?” Brian asked, taking his wife’s hand. “If one more person asks me that, I’m going to…” She trailed off midthreat. “Back over us with heavy equipment?” Riley suggested. “Entomb us in the walls of our own attic?” Nick asked. “Cry like a big dumb baby until your big dumb baby gets here?” Mrs. Penny tried. Brian grabbed his wife around the waist before Josie could take a swing at the elderly woman. “Well, this pregnancy is gonna be fun,” Riley said out of the corner of her mouth.

“Look, Josie doesn’t need to do security because we’re not taking the case,” Nick interjected. “Twenty Gs says we are,” Mrs. Penny insisted, glancing down at the check in her cleavage. “Well, the first five Gs at least. It’s a down payment for services rendered.” “Twenty grand?” Brian repeated. Josie quit struggling. “I like money.” Nick groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Riley cleared her throat. “Not you too.”

“Who would want to take you out?” Mrs. Penny asked Griffin. “No one! Everyone thinks I’m wonderful,” Griffin insisted. “Bullshit,” Nick sang. “Well, almost everyone,” Griffin amended.

“Okay, how about Claudia Mendoza, the morning show anchor whose job you took?” Riley suggested quickly before any eyeball–light bulb injuries could occur. “Pfft. That was years ago. Besides, it wasn’t personal. It was just business,” he insisted. “Griffin, you took the woman’s job. She was fired because of nepotism,” Riley said. He scoffed, blinking at the light bulb in his face. “It wasn’t anything like that. My dad just fired her so he could hire me.” “That’s the definition of nepotism,” Josie said dryly.

Griffin gave a dismissive wave. “That’s all water under the bridge. It was nothing personal. I’m Griffin Gentry. Everybody loves me.” “Not me. You suck,” Josie said. “I think you’re a dick,” Brian agreed. “I hope you’re run down in a crosswalk by a bus full of schoolchildren,” Nick chimed in.

Griffin’s mouth puckered into a frown. “Are you saying not everyone thinks I’m incredibly handsome and talented and lovable?” “For fuck’s sake,” Brian said under his breath.

“So what are we going to do about outfits for the masquerade ball if we’re moderately broke?” “Leave that to me,” he said with confidence. “I’m not wearing lingerie to a gala,” Riley warned. “Okay fine. I’ll come up with a plan B.”

The house was more stone and lots of glass. They followed a path made of slate slabs as it meandered to the portico and front door. There was no doorbell, only a heavy gold knocker. Nick thumped it against the catch twice. “I feel like we’re about to meet Batman,” he said. The woman who opened the door was definitely not Batman.

She turned her attention back to Nick and Riley. “Now I suppose you’ll want to know if I own any firearms, where I was at the time of the shooting, and whether I have any experience with body waxing. And since you’re not a cop, you’re hoping I’ll still provide you with answers.” “You’ve either committed a lot of crimes or done your research,” Nick said.

“What kind of statuary?” Nick asked, smoothly retaking control. “My next-door neighbor commissioned a twelve-foot-tall statue of himself, which I highly doubt is to scale seeing as it’s nude,” Belinda reported. “The, shall we say, ‘generous’ genitalia was pointed at my house, and when I went next door to request they at least point it in a different direction, Griffin explained it was his gift to the world and then tried to hand me a signed headshot.” “Did you think maybe he deserved to get his chest waxed and then possibly be shot at for that?” Nick prompted.

“Interesting.” Nick took her hand. “You know what else interests me?” “My boobs.”

“What kind of a person leaves a threatening note, plays a chest hair prank on someone, and then tries to shoot them?” Riley wondered. “A weirdo. The world is full of them.”

The man’s face was turning beet red. “I’ll tell you where I was! I was breaking into my ex-wife’s house so I could steal my son’s ADHD medicine so I don’t sleep all fucking day, because Griffin Gentry is a monster. They called me a monster, but I’m a koala bear next to that son of a bitch.” “I think it’s just koala,” Nick said. Riley cleared her throat delicately in case Nick didn’t know he was very close to pushing the guy over the edge. “What?” the man shrieked. “Yeah, they’re not called koala bears. Just koalas.” The homeowner shoved his hands into his hair and gripped. “Do I look like I give a damn?” Riley took a step back just to make sure she was out of the danger zone.

“Actually, you look like you went on a cocaine bender then stuck a fork in an electrical outlet,” Nick said. “First of all, three bumps of coke is not a bender. Second, you can tell me what happened to that selfish prick next door—and it better be good. Or you can get the hell off my property before I call the cops.” “I’m afraid I can’t discuss an ongoing investigation,” Nick said cheerfully. “But you have yourself a nice day, sir. Maybe try getting a little shut-eye?” “Go fuck yourself!” The man slammed the door so hard that instead of latching, it bounced back and smacked him in the forehead. “You can fuck yourself too,” he shouted at the door; then leaving it open, he stormed off inside.

“How did you know he wouldn’t punch you for annoying him?” He slung an arm around her shoulders. “It was a risk I was willing to take.” “So you just provoked our potential bad guy into a murderous rage?” Nick looked remarkably unperturbed. “If I did, this case will be closed before the end of the day.” “Or Griffin will be dead,” she pointed out. “I won’t let him get murdered until he pays up.” “That’s comforting.”

“Anyone asks—especially the guy who answers this door—I dress like this all the time,” he warned. The slap of flip-flops approached the other side of the door before it opened to reveal a trim white guy with a tidy mustache, short graying hair, and a pair of expensive-looking headphones around his neck. “Nick Santiago,” the man said, putting a hand on one hip. “You’re looking delicious.” Nick tugged on the collar of his shirt. “Thanks. I dress like this all the time now.” He gave Riley a nudge. “Uh, yes. I can confirm. He even sleeps in his Dockers.” “Too far. Too far,” he muttered from the side of his mouth.

“Oh! Company, how ni⁠—” The greeting came from the man Riley presumed to be Alistair’s husband, Danny. He was tall and a little bulky with pale freckled skin and salt-and-pepper hair. His sentence was cut short when his Birkenstock hit a puddle. “Ahhh!” Danny went airborne and landed on his back with an oof. They raced to his aid, but Burt got there first with his tongue lolling and front paws on Danny’s chest. “Al? Why is there a pony in our kitchen?” he demanded. Burt gave Danny’s face a hearty slurp. “Oh good. You’ve met Burt,” Alistair said.

“You’re not taking us to some empty building to get murdered, are you? Because that will piss me off,” Nick said as he helped Riley out of the back seat of Alistair’s hybrid Lexus. The parking lot of the Krevsky Center, a muraled brick building on Sixth Street, was empty except for a dented minivan with a bumper sticker that read Sewciopath.

“Nick and Riley, meet Robeena, the evil wardrobe mistress of the theatre.” Robeena crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “You came to the wrong place, Alistair. Did you forget that I hate you?” “How could I forget with you sharpening fabric shears every time I enter a room? But you hating me doesn’t negate our deal. You owe me,” he said ominously. “See, babe? Maybe they’ll murder each other and forget about us,” Riley whispered to Nick.

“Fine. But this means we’re even. No more holding it over my head. No more veiled threats. No more mentioning it ever again.” “Agreed. And for the record, my threats are never veiled. They’re just clever,” Alistair said.

“Don’t mind Robeena. She’s just an understudy of a human being. Oh, this is shiny!” he noted, picking up a bolt of silver material.

“This uncultured swine is wrong ninety-nine percent of the time, but it’s possible this is the other percentage point,” Robeena said grudgingly. Alistair placed a hand over his heart. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Robeena.” “Don’t let it go to your head.” “Don’t worry. I know any kindness you display is just an attempt to lure in your next victim.”

“You already kissed him,” Riley pointed out. “That was to piss off his horrible mother.” “What about when he was Drunk Kellen and you were digging around in his pants pocket and you found his not-wallet?” “You’re the one who made me reach in there! Just because I kissed him, accidentally pinkie stroked his penis, and played sexy siren to lure him away from a party does not mean I’m in any way interested in the man. He’s annoying and straitlaced and always looks like he’s about to yell at me or handcuff me.” “I know from previous drunken conversations that you’re into both of those things.” “Shut up. I have to go. I have a date waiting. Wear the dress. Free the boobs!” Jasmine disconnected the call.

“This was supposed to be your birthday dinner, but we got hungry. You two keep such late hours, don’t you?” Lily trilled. “It’s six o’clock. Most people aren’t even home from work yet,” Nick complained. “The elderly consume their calories early,” Gabe explained over his foot-long cheesesteak. “We also eat our desserts first since we don’t know how much time we have left,” Fred said, pointing to the pie plate of mostly crumbs. The man was back in his frosted-tip boy-band toupee. “Your hair is standing up,” Nick told him. Fred patted his head like a cat. “Had to vacuum the plaster dust out of it. I kind of like it.”

The food lodged in his throat, requiring him to steal Mrs. Penny’s water glass. He drank deeply, then choked again. “This is straight gin.” “Gotta stay hydrated,” she said.

“Remember, you two have to stay a minimum of ten feet away from me at all times,” Griffin said, stopping them just shy of the Hilton Harrisburg’s ballroom. Beyond the narrow shoulders of his tuxedo jacket, Riley could see the beautiful and wealthy people of the city gathering in their masks and festive finery. “Let me get this straight. Not that I would mind watching one of these fancy fuckers exact their revenge on you—hell, it would make this birthday the best one I’ve ever had. But doesn’t that completely defeat the purpose of personal security, you human toadstool?” Nick said on a disbelieving snarl.

“He could have called a fucking Lyft, and we could be eating birthday tacos naked right now,” Nick complained. “We’ll get birthday tacos on the way home,” Riley promised. “I can’t have you two encroaching on me.” Griffin’s gaze fastened on Riley’s dress. “You’re too…colorful.” “He means your boobs look amazing,” Nick said. Griffin pointed at Nick. “And you’re too…imposing.” “He means you’re tall,” Riley filled in for Nick.

“Why didn’t Bella come tonight?” she asked as they approached the first food table. Appetizers were staged on tiered acrylic displays above artfully rumpled gold table linens. Nick picked up a tiny glass plate and frowned at it. “Short and Orangey said something about weather girl continuing education, which I’m pretty sure is code for Bella is boning someone on the side.” “Suspicious,” Riley said. “Always look at the spouse…or the weather girl in this case.”

“Technically, we get paid for performing a service, not for solving the case. I figure we spend a week pretending to care, and then I’ll skip off to the bank with a big fat check like I’m a pack of schoolgirls on the playground.” “They have mobile deposit now. But I still would like to see the skipping.”

“It’s my fucking birthday, and I have to spend it with Booster Seat. But damn is it worth it just to see Riley in that dress. I wonder if I can talk her into taking a naked tour of a janitorial closet?” “Here. I brought you some shrimp and whatever this stuff is. Maybe some kind of seafood dip? There was a crab leg sticking out of it,” Nick said as he pushed a second appetizer plate at her. “No,” Riley said. “You don’t want any food?” “I don’t want to have sex in a janitorial closet. At least not until we’re off the clock.” Both dimples winked into existence. “How did a guy like me get lucky enough to land a girl like you, Thorn?” His tone was teasing, but she could feel something else behind it. “Are you okay?” she asked, abandoning her assessment of the crowd. Nick popped a shrimp into her mouth. “Baby, with you, I’m better than okay.” “Did you hit your head getting out of the car again?”

Nick tucked the napkin back into his suit jacket like it was a handkerchief. “And shrimp cocktail?” He gestured with his plate of shrimp tails and sauce. “How gauche.” Riley hadn’t been aware that Nick knew the word gauche, let alone how to pronounce it.

Riley almost felt sorry for him. Nick had no such feelings.

“I’m starting to believe he really can’t help himself,” Riley said. “Come on. Let’s get him up.” “I got him,” Nick insisted. “I’m afraid of what he’ll do if you willingly touch him. Then I’ll have to kill him myself, and I didn’t bring any spare crime scene clothes.”

“I’m thinking about selling a kidney,” Nick said as he perused the touch-screen menu at Sheetz. The convenience store was crowded with late-night munchie customers. No one gave their elegant evening attire a second glance, because after midnight, everyone was equally weird at Sheetz. “Which kidney? Ooh, get an order of fries too,” Riley said, peering over his shoulder. “Whichever one doesn’t require us to see that walking cheese doodle again.” “You have to admit, someone is definitely after him,” she pointed out. He grunted and snatched the receipt from the printer’s teeth. “You’re not cheering me up.”

He looked up at her and grinned. “Sounds like it’s right up my alley. Good gift.” “Yeah?” His eyes went lusty. “Yeah. Why don’t you come over here and let me tell you to your face?” “My face or my boobs?” she teased, sidling closer. “Why not both?”

“Me and Burt stayed up late snacking and gaming.” “What’s the number one rule about Burt?” Riley said. “Get out of his way when he’s excited or he might break our hips?” Lily offered. “Avoid his tail because it leaves whiplashes?” Fred suggested. “Don’t feed him people food,” Riley reminded them.

“Fred, what are you doing to my sink?” Nick asked. The elderly man slid out of the cabinet. He was holding a wrench and wearing a Phish T-shirt and track pants. “Just helping out. Mrs. Penny dumped an entire box of denture cleaning tablets down the garbage disposal.” “Why would you do that, Penny?” “To see if the fizzing would dislodge the strip of condoms that fell down there first.” “How…? Why…?” It didn’t really matter. These people who had invaded his home were capable of anything. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Nick moved down the line and handed Lily her own sheet of paper. “You are going to call these three contractors about your roof and ask for a quote and a timeline. Hire the one with the shortest timeline. I don’t care if they replace your roof with thatched grass and bee colonies. Get it done.”

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to let Mrs. Penny be Griffin’s personal security?” “Nope. But it’ll annoy Gentry, and she’s batty enough to scare off most people with any sense of self-preservation. Plus, with someone else babysitting him, Josie can help Brian whittle down the phone book of suspects we’re looking at.” “Do they still make phone books?” she wondered. “Are you calling me old?” “Well, you did just have a birthday.”

“I was born for this,” Mrs. Penny announced, leaning between the seats. “Not you. I meant Riley,” Nick said, releasing his seat belt. Mrs. Penny snorted. “What the hell does Riley have to worry about?” “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it’s weird to come back to the house she used to live in to interview the woman her husband cheated on her with,” Nick snapped. “Huh. I guess that would suck,” Mrs. Penny agreed.

The front door swung open before they made it through the puddles to the porch. Josie, in motorcycle pants and a black leather jacket, stormed out, looking lethal and not at all like a delicate mom-to-be. Riley winced as she caught a whiff of Josie’s level of annoyance. “How did it go this morning?” Nick asked. “They’re both vapid narcissists who are barely aware the other one exists. The morning show sucks. And if it weren’t for the money we apparently so desperately need, I would have superglued their faces together and burned down the set to save Harrisburg from getting dumber just by tuning in.” “Okaaaaaay,” he drawled. “I meant, were there any security issues?” “Oh.” Josie looked nonplussed