What My Brother Left Me Ch. 02

Marisol hugs me with her free arm and kisses my forehead in a protective manner.

"It will be okay, Carlos," she assures me. "Let's do take-out. That lasagna smells wretched. It is an insult to every aspect of Mediterranean cuisine."

"What do you have?" Det. Stevens inquires.

"Two .380's, a .22 Target pistol and a Bernardelli Mega .20 gauge, plus a few boxes of ammunition and a hunting knife," Marisol listed off. Well, a .20 is a 'girl's gun but even then I'm impressed.

"What are you expecting," George criticizes, "a family of rabid black bears?"

"Oh crap," I pop up and let my robe fly open. I cover myself then run into the Man Cave and check the various hard liquor bottles there. "Three things; get your crappy sedan into the garage before the Home Owner's Association gets pissy. It wasn't Claudia because she was stunned in such a manner that I know she didn't know he was dead -- she almost ran outside naked."

"I'll concur that is way beyond her normal behavior," Marisol agreed.

"It isn't Marisol either poisoner because John never drank her wines and all his liquor has stamps so it was sold in stores while Marisol's wines don't because she gets the from her husband's warehouse," I explain.

"She isn't the shooter because she has a shotgun. Why is she using a pistol if she has shotgun which is far more untraceable and trust me, as someone who was once a sixteen year old in a rural area, you can fire a shotgun from a moving car," I cringed slightly at my admission to illegally discharging a firearm -- in another state.

"John drank bottled water bought from Wal-Mart and I've drunk some already," I tell them. "He never drinks tap water since a freaky incident a few years back in Atlantic City."

"We are checking all the water coolers in his two offices," George ruminates. I'm racking my mind, I look to Marisol, she is concentrating but catches my look and smiles at me and her nipples come out to say 'Hi' and --

"Ice!" Marisol and I state simultaneously. She must be smart because I was inspired by the desire to rub ice cubes over her nipples when it dawned on me that my brother put ice in many of his drinks.

"I'll go take a look at the ice maker," George stands and looks around.

"There is one in the refrigerator door and one at the bar," Marisol directs him.

"Why are we hiding the car?" Stevens jumps in.

"There is no picture of me in this house, so no one knows who I am except Claudia, who isn't going to tell anyone anything about this whole affair, and Marisol, who is here with us," I explain.

That is enough for Stevens. She knows that we are approaching this situation from reverse. If someone killed John for the blackmail they are going to assume that I am John's 'partner' and that things aren't settled yet. Yes, I am a target. She snaps up the garage remote and heads up.

"What do you want me to do?" Marisol looks impressed at my phantom assumption of authority.

"Bedroom -- Ass Up -- Now!" I command sharply. Marisol gives me a shy smile then laughs compassionately.

"If I do not feed you I will lose you," she teases. "I have never buried a lover under the New Moon and I will not start with you."

"Do you have any of those Hot Wings places? You know; where the girls wear cropped sleeveless t-shirts, white hot pants and move around on roller skates?" I list off.

"You would like me to serve you dressed like that?" her eyes twinkled.

"Do I get to lick off any of the hot sauce that drips?" I perk up.

"Absolutely," she concedes.

"Yes -- yes ma'am I would like to see you dressed like that," I smile.

"I will order us a few dozen- dozen hot wings and you concentrate on your brother's murder," she reminds me.

"I'm sorry; you are right," I feel chastised. "I am my Brother's final advocate."

"Oh," she winks, "I was thinking more of getting these cops out of here so we could screw on every piece of furniture in this house."

"Oh, I've always wanted to buy a house-full of furniture," I muse.

"You think we will be that rough," Marisol licks her lips.

"Oh -- perhaps," I return the wink. "I only thought doing it once wasn't enough." She smacks my butt before turning tightly and pulling out her phone.

Undertows of lust and rage are tearing at me. They devoured John and, quite frankly, I'm adrift.