My Killer Vacation

I twist around in my seat. “Use your indoor voice, please. There is no need to shout at me.”

“I’m not shouting.”

“You might as well be shouting!”

He looks at me like I’ve just grown a horn in the dead center of my forehead. “What are your plans for the day? I don’t want you going anywhere without me.”

“Unless you want to go snorkeling, that’s going to be pretty difficult.”

“Snorkeling.” He pauses in the middle of dumping batter onto the griddle. “Someone sent you a clear threat last night and you’re going snorkeling?”

“Jude is amazing at anything water related,” I say, patting his arm. “There’s no reason we have to let a broken window ruin his vacation.”

“Our vacation,” my brother corrects me.

“Yes, that’s what I meant.”

When it grows silent in the kitchen, I turn to find Myles frowning at me. He looks like he wants to say something, but he coughs into a fist and turns to monitor his waffle. “You’re one of these people who plans a lot of activities on vacation, instead of lying on the beach and taking it easy like everyone else, aren’t you?”

“I can lie around and relax at home. A vacation is a chance for doing.” I add more boysenberry syrup to my plate for dipping. “What do you do for fun on vacation? Make fun of babies? Push old ladies down steep hills in shopping carts?”

Jude snorts into his coffee, clearly entertained.

Myles doesn’t give us the satisfaction of a rejoinder, though. No, he drops his plate on the table and sits down, taking a long sip of coffee. “Cancel the snorkeling, all right?”

“No way.”

“I need to meet with the police today. They’ve agreed to share a copy of the ballistics report. The coroner is coming back today or tomorrow with a TOD. I don’t have time to babysit you while you look at starfish.”

“TOD is time of death,” I whisper across the table to my brother.

Jude sets down his mug, affronted. “All right, look,” he says, looking at Myles. “You’re obviously a lot more qualified to act as a bodyguard, but I’ll be with her when we go snorkeling. I wouldn’t let something happen to my sister.”

“You’re right, I am a lot more qualified,” Myles says without missing a beat.

All traces of Jude’s affable nature are gone. “I can handle myself.”

Myles raises a dubious eyebrow at Jude, coolly sipping his coffee.

That does it. I’m going to stab him.

Double Homicide on the Cape. It’s going straight to the top of the podcast charts.

“You seem doubtful. Why?” Jude leans back in his chair. “Because I’m gay?”

The bounty hunter calmly reaches for the syrup. “Nope. My brother is gay and he’d scare the balls off an ox.”

Jude tilts his head at me.

As if to say, didn’t see that coming.

Join the club. I haven’t foreseen any of the curves this man has thrown me. In fact, I’m only now remembering how he opened up to me on the beach last night about his divorce and the kidnapping case. He shared with me. And my gut says that wasn’t easy for him. Or typical. He’s not very easy to stuff into a labeled box, this man. Dang it.

“You said…” I resume eating, because I need something to do with my hands. “Didn’t you say your brother is a detective in Boston?”

A curt nod from the bounty hunter. “On his way to a promotion last I heard.”

“You don’t speak to him very often?” Jude asks.

“Never. And before you ask, it’s not because he’s gay.” He shoves a bite into his mouth, talking around it like we’re eating in a barn “We don’t talk because he’s a prick.” He jabs the air between us with a fork. “Where are you going snorkeling? I’ll call and postpone it for you.”

The smile I send him is pure saccharine. “Join us if you must, but we are going snorkeling. I already paid for the Groupon”

“Hey.” Jude holds up his phone, the screen of which is covered in messages. “Do you mind if I invite the burger guys from yesterday?”

A snicker sneaks out of me. “Is that how you labeled them in your phone?”

Jude grins. “Yup. There’s an asterisk and a note here, too.” He taps the phone to his lips. “The blond one liked grilled onions and sauerkraut on his burger. Steering clear.”

“Wise move.” I stand up and begin to gather the dishes. “Their names were Jessie, Quinton and Ryan. And invite them of course, the more the merrier.”

Jude hesitates, splitting a look between me and Myles. “Ryan is the straight one who just got his MBA in finance, right?”

I have to think about it. My mind was pretty stuck on the case last night. And on a certain grouchy bounty hunter, but I won’t be admitting that part to anyone. “Yes, I think so.”

My brother hums. “He was asking about you, T. After you left. He was disappointed when you didn’t come back.”