Lethal Game (GhostWalkers 16)

“What?” Lorrie pulled back in her chair, glaring at Amaryllis, who was busy talking to Tania and Tommy Leven.

Malichai tried not to fixate on Amaryllis’s smile. She had a beautiful smile. He wished he was there right next to her, or even out in the jungle with a million ants and termites crawling all over him—anywhere but at the table with the three sisters who looked like they would prefer to eat him rather than the delicious barbecued honeyed ribs and grilled corn on the cob.

“You’re engaged?” Lexie demanded. “I had no idea. None of us did.”

“Why would you know?” Malichai asked, picking up a rib, uncertain if one cut it up in polite company. He didn’t think the women were all that polite. They seemed more interested in whether or not he was free than their fear of the recent events with Anna and Bryon.

“Well, you’re so interesting,” Lorrie said. “Absolutely the most interesting man we’ve run across since we’ve been here.”

“Fascinating,” Lexie added, leaning her chin into the heel of her hand and gazing at him.

He was unsure how he was supposed to respond to that so he muttered something that might or might not have been bullshit but was supposed to pass for “thank you.” He bit into the rib and chewed. It tasted amazing. He was definitely marrying Amaryllis. She could cook for him for the rest of his life. He wasn’t about to share with Ezekiel or Mordichai that she was such a good cook. They’d be over every day.

“Are you even paying attention?” Linda demanded.

Actually, no, but he would now so he’d never have to hear that strident, shriek note again. “I’m sorry.” Malichai wasn’t above using his injuries to get him out of trouble with the three barracuda sisters. “I’m recovering from an injury and the meds sometimes make me wander a little bit.”

“An injury?” Linda echoed.

“I’m in the service. I’ve been in for several years and I’ve done quite a few tours overseas. A few months ago, I was shot several times and my leg’s been operated on repeatedly. That’s why Amaryllis and I haven’t seen much of each other lately.”

The three women exchanged a look he barely caught, but for some reason, it bothered him. He had silent exchanges with his brothers all the time, but found when other siblings did so, he was uncomfortable with it.

“What?” he asked, not wanting them to think he wasn’t paying attention now. He continued to eat the ribs, wishing he’d taken a lot more. They were that good.

“It makes sense now. We’re actually from this area. We own a house just up the road. We rent it out whenever there’s a convention, especially one like Comic-Con. We make bank on the rentals and we usually stay with a friend. She’s got company so we booked here. We’ve seen Amaryllis a lot around the neighborhood, but never you.”

He shrugged. He’d found the less he explained, the fewer mistakes were made. Let them think what they wanted. They were coming to believe him if they hadn’t before.

“Do a lot of people rent out their homes during a large convention?” It would go along with the reason his brother had located one in the neighborhood and was able to rent it so quickly.

Linda shrugged. “If they’re smart, they do. We make so much money, especially because we usually can stay at our friends’ house rent-free.” She took a bite of a rib, holding it delicately between her fingers. “Oh my God, you have to try these,” she said to her sisters. “They’re amazing.”

Malichai couldn’t have agreed with her more.

“This is our first murder-suicide,” Lexie ventured as she picked up one of the ribs. “Ever. I liked Anne. I especially liked Bryon. He didn’t seem the type to kill anyone, let alone Anne. Did you ever talk to them?”

She sounded sad. For the first time, Malichai genuinely felt sorry for her. He did for all three of them when he looked at their faces. They might be a little man-crazy, but they definitely felt the deaths of the couple, a large contrast to Henry Shevfield and his contract business.

“I did. I thought they were a very nice couple. I don’t necessarily buy the entire murder-suicide verdict floating around. I prefer to wait and see what the medical examiner’s office rules it. There’s no reason to jump to conclusions.”

He kept eating and didn’t notice the sudden silence around the table immediately. When he finally did, he looked up. Each of the three women were staring at him, eyes wide, mouths slightly open, the ribs in their fingers.

“What?” He lowered his last rib, reluctant to finish it off.

“If Bryon didn’t kill Anna, who did? Because it was murder. Either Bryon did it or someone had to have murdered both of them,” Lorrie whispered, looking around the dining room suspiciously, as if she might spot the killer right in the room with them.