D.I.C.K.s

By Victoria Roder

When three friends and co-workers stumble upon a murder, they decide to hide the body until they can find their kidnapped Pastor before he meets the same fate. With humor and a little love along the way, the newly formed D.I.C.KS., Dames Investigating Crimes and Killers, stumble upon a prescription drug ring that leads them to break and enter buildings, follow criminals to an adult bookstore, and be betrayed by the most unlikely of suspects.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Champagne Book Group
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781771552509

Book preview

One

Jess

Blood-red droplets dripped and soaked into the white tablecloth. Crap. The ocean breeze fought my hair. With one hand I swept my bangs aside, with the other I continued to pour wine. It splashed again as I attempted to fill the third glass.

Adamary shook her finger at me. That’s alcohol abuse.

I shook my head. It doesn’t count; the wind blew my hair in my eyes. But this breeze is refreshing after being cooped up in the building all day.

Adamary reached for a wine glass. You should wear your hair down more often. It makes you look a little less stuffy.

Gee, thanks for the ass backward compliment.

You know what I mean. Adamary glanced around the outdoor patio filled with snowbirds who migrated from colder climates, tourists and locals. You might be married, but Liz and I are single. You’re wearing a suit and everyone else is wearing flip-flops and T-shirts.

As locals, to unwind after work, Adamary, Liz, and I stop on this busy beachside street to visit the establishments for a few glasses of wine about every other week. Decanter’s Café on Flagler Avenue buzzed with chatter and laughter. With the view of the ocean and its distinct slight sulphate, salty smell floating on the breeze, fifty unique shops, thirty restaurants, live music, festivals and the ability to rent anything from a beach chair to a dune buggy, Flagler Avenue always bustles, but during wine festivals it busts at the seams.

Adamary surveyed the crowded tables at the cafe. You keep yourself in shape, Jess. Let it hang out once in a while. I spy lots of men here without women. But what guy is going to approach Liz and me when you make it look like we’re at a business meeting?

I set the decanter on the table and smoothed the front of my navy blue suit jacket. I’m the principal of a school, how should I dress?

Can’t you change before we go out?

I didn’t have time, smart-ass. Besides, I’m in love and married. I’m not looking to impress any guy who shows up here tonight, unless it’s Rob, and he loves the way I dress. You’re never dressed like everyone else either, Adamary. You’re not wearing the standard-issue Florida Gator’s attire.

I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that sloppy fitting stuff. The difference between your attire and mine is the pizazz. My blouse is curve fitting...

I nodded. You definitely got curves and your shirt is definitely hugging them.

My skirt is just above the knee to hint...

And tight.

Adamary shooed me with her hand. The difference between our outfits is, mine is inviting and you’re dressed like a nun.

Gee thanks. Where’s Liz anyway? I hope she’s not drinking all the wine samples again.

Adamary tucked her black hair behind her ear. You know Liz, she’s easily distracted.

I shrugged, not sure why we sent Liz for the wine samples. She’s the biggest sweetheart on the face of the earth but usually lost in her thoughts. Craziness seems to follow the ball of energy wherever she goes. Having more people than usual at the New Smyrna Wine Fest is a recipe for some kind of mishap with Liz.

On a day like today, when the Florida sun subsides we enjoy the outdoor cafés but if the heat swelters as the day begins to shade into night, we head inside for the relief of air conditioning. Liz and I like to soak in the Florida heat but it’s not worth Adamary’s elevated stress level over her hair frizzing in the humidity.

I darted my eyes toward the sound of a high-pitched laugh. Two tables away an ample woman, perhaps in her fifties, laughed so hard she wasn’t able to take a bite of the cream pie balanced on her fork. The rosy-cheeked man sitting beside her chuckled until he coughed. The teenage couple sitting across from them smiled silently. Holding three Dixie cups clasped between her hands and a bag of popcorn tucked in the crook of her arm, Liz easily slid between the round tables. She reached the alley between the cackling woman and a bald, muscular man sitting at the table across from her. The man slid his chair out, narrowing the walkway. Two men sitting with him, dressed in jeans and dingy t-shirts, pushed to their feet. The third man, younger, staggered drunkenly and steadied himself on the back of his chair.

I tilted my head toward Liz. Adamary, you think one of us should help her carry the samples?

Adamary shifted in her chair to look.

Liz squeezed between the woman and the man. The gut-busting laughs caused the woman with the pie to snort. Laughing even harder, she jerked backward, bouncing her head against Liz. The wine samples sprayed the bald man’s head like a mist from the ocean. The man jumped to his feet and startled Liz, who jumped backward and smashed into the woman and forced her face into the pie on her fork. Liz stumbled between the chairs as drops of wine and popcorn sprayed customers. Her foot caught on a chair leg, she lurched forward and wine cups and popcorn tossed into the air. Liz landed with a thud. Customers’ gasps, Liz’s apologies and voices asking if she needed help all blended together.

I pushed off my chair. It slammed to the ground. With Adamary on my heels, we rushed to the scene. I extended my hand and pulled Liz to her feet.

Liz blotted her face with her t-shirt. I’m so embarrassed. She tapped the woman on the shoulder. I’m really sorry, miss. If your outfit needs to be dry-cleaned, I’ll pay the bill.

A smile curled the woman’s lips as she flicked a dab of cream off her face. This could only happen to me. She let out a hearty laugh and her tablemates joined in.

The bald man, younger than I originally thought, wiped wine from his head. Droplets dripped to his shoulder.

Adamary grabbed a cloth napkin off his table and dipped it in a glass of water. Let me help you. She dabbed at the wine on his head. We’re going to need more than water to treat the wine that splashed on your shirt. I’m sure they must have seltzer water.

Liz sheepishly peered over Adamary’s shoulder. This is all my fault. I’ll go ask for some.

He smiled and held up his hand. No, don’t bother. I don’t want to wear it.

His friends and other customers at the nearby tables laughed.

Liz hung her head. I’m so sorry. I...

He smiled. I’m teasing you. Don’t worry about the shirt, it’s old and I only wear it for work.

Liz held her hands palms up and shrugged. Could I buy you a drink to say I’m sorry?

Not necessary. My friends and I are heading out. We get up before the sun rises.

Oh. Where do you work? Liz asked.

I own a construction company. We’re on the addition job at the You First Pharmacy warehouse.

Adamary held out her hand and the man wrapped both of his calloused hands around hers. I’m Adamary. This is Jess and you already met Liz, she’s the one who baptized you with wine.

I’m Jake. He nodded toward the men standing at his table. This is Frank, Bill and Newbie."

Newbie, bobbing about on his drunken sailor legs, still had acne. Each of the men looked as if they’d labored by the sweat of their brow.

Jake let go of Adamary’s hand. Maybe we’ll see you here on the waterfront again.

Yeah. Maybe. Are you from NSB? Adamary said.

Jake tilted his head. I’m not following you? What?

Adamary smiled. New Smyrna Beach. NSB.

Oh. No, we’re from Edgewater, it’s about thirty miles away. I’ve actually never made it to New, ah, NSB before.

Adamary’s lip curled up. I’ve been to Edgewater, it’s a pretty town.

I gently tugged on Adamary’s arm. We’ve got to leave soon, too. It was nice meeting all of you.

Liz averted her eyes. I promise next time I’ll let you drink the wine instead of dousing you with it.

We said goodnight to the men and moved toward our own table.

Hey, Adamary, Jake called.

He mentioned her name but all three of us looked.

Why don’t you stop down at the job site? I’ll show you around. We’re putting in beautiful office suites at the warehouse.

Giving a little wave Adamary sauntered toward our table. Yeah, maybe I’ll stop. Bye.

Jake’s voice trailed off. Bye.

Liz stomped after Adamary. Why do the guys always flock to you?

I’ve got a sexy aura.

Liz chuckled. I’m sure your big boobs help.

I trailed behind and listened to their banter. I had to chuckle at the look on some of the patrons’ faces as they eavesdropped.

Shut up, Liz. Wow, did you see Jake’s biceps? There’s something to be said about hard labor. I think I’m going to take him up on his offer and stop and see the remodel job.

You can’t, Liz said.

Adamary slipped into her chair. Why not?

I smiled at a young couple gawking at us as I picked up my chair and slid in beside the table.

Liz plopped down. Because, if you stop at his job site, you’ll end up dating the guy.

Adamary nodded. Yeah. That’s kind of my plan.

What about your grandma Isabella? Liz asked.

Adamary chuckled. She’ll have to find her own date.

Most of the time I choose to ignore Liz and Adamary’s constant chatter in the form of an argument, but this time I couldn’t squelch my curiosity. What’s her grandmother have to do with this?

Liz leaned forward and whispered, Her grandma is a little prejudiced and in case you two didn’t notice, Jake is white.

Adamary gasped. He’s white? You’re right, I didn’t notice.

Liz sneered.

Grandma is a little old-fashioned and doesn’t believe a black woman should date a white man. Preserving our heritage and all that. Adamary tapped her long fingernails on her glass. But what my grandma Issy doesn’t know can’t kill her.

Liz swirled the wine in her glass. You’d think the whiskey and cigarettes would get her first.

Adamary’s been my assistant for five years so I called her on her inconsistency. Since when have you ever cared what anyone else thought, Adamary?

I usually don’t. But I do care what Issy thinks. She’s got a wooden spoon she’d still use on me to this day.

Adamary’s phone rang. She picked it out of her cleavage and checked the screen. I swear that woman has a listening device on my phone. Pressing accept she said, Hello, Issy...I’m not sure...I wish you wouldn’t do that...I’ll find my own...No, Nana. Sorry. No, Issy. There’s a difference between disrespectful and independent...I, I... No, I haven’t seen a doctor... I’m pretty sure my womb hasn’t closed up. Adamary rolled her eyes. Fine, fine, I’ll be there...I know, Issy. I love you, too. After hitting the disconnect button Adamary tucked her phone between her purple bra and heaving breasts.

After a swig of wine, I questioned, You kept calling her Issy. Don’t you refer to her as Grandma?

Adamary shrugged. She’s kind of hip and likes to be referred to as Issy. When I was little I called her Nana. Now that I’m an adult she prefers me to call her Issy. Sometimes I slip and call her Nana and she reminds me in a hurry to call her Issy.

Grandma Isabella trying to set you up again? Liz asked.

Yes, it is so embarrassing.

Liz wiped sweat off her forehead. I was so embarrassed spilling wine and popcorn on everyone, my face is still burning up. I’m so glad the woman thought the whole cake- in-the-face thing was funny. Good thing everyone had enough wine so they didn’t care I spilled it all over them.

Yeah, so much for free wine samples for us tonight, Adamary said.

I fiddled with the collar on my suit coat. If you think spilling wine qualifies for making your face red, you’d never have survived the summer I worked at the Dairy Stand. This guy drove to the drive-thru window, I took his money and my friend Mel made his slushie.

And then? Liz asked.

Mel and I met at the window. I had his change and Mel had his drink. We looked down into the car and the guy had his dingy exposed.

His dingy? Liz asked.

You’re a dingy. Adamary shook her head. You know what she means, his throbbing manhood, his privates...

Liz ruffled her short, sassy blonde hair. Oh! That is so sick and wrong. Did you serve him? Did you run away from the window? What’d you do?

Mel turned the slushie upside down and dumped it in his lap.

Adamary let out a giggle. That should have cooled him off.

Liz snorted as she laughed. What’d the guy do?

He drove off in a rush and I still had his change.

Did he come back for his money? Was he mad? Did you get fired?" Liz said.

I shook my head. No. It’s not like the little pervert could report us.

Wide-eyed Liz leaned forward. How little?

Adamary laughed and fanned herself with a napkin. I’m having a hot flash.

My own face flushed when I glanced at the tables within earshot. This time I whispered. You’re only thirty-something. I’m closer to hot flash age than you.

Okay, maybe I’m not going through the change yet, but I thought it sounded more lady-like to blame it on hormones than to say I was visualizing a naked man in the drive thru.

I pressed my index finger against my lips. Hush. People are staring.

So? Adamary finished the swirl of wine. That’s their problem. Tomorrow is a work day so I need to call it a night.

Liz pushed her glass to the center of the table. I rode with you, so I guess I’m retiring my glass, too.

You know my boss, she’s a real bag. I’d hate to show up tired or with a hangover tomorrow. Adamary slid her chair back and slipped her purse strap over her shoulder.

I clasped my keys from the table. As your boss, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that remark.

Adamary stood and pushed her chair to the table. Say hi to that big, handsome husband of yours, Jess.

He’s probably home already. He had dinner at his mother’s so he’ll be hungry.

Right. Liz nodded. If his mom is such a bad cook, why doesn’t he cook for her?

My mother-in-law might be a bad cook, but she loves to feed people and won’t ever hear of someone else cooking on her turf. You think the Top 6 gang members are territorial? You wouldn’t want to cross Violet.

On our way to our vehicles we meandered past shops, restaurants, art galleries and street vendors. Liz stopped to purchase another bag of kettle corn since she dumped the other one on the avenue. The breeze picked up as we reached the parking lot lined with palm trees and bordering the waterfront docks. Secured boats bobbed on the small whitecaps of the ocean. I pushed my hair away from my eyes and had to laugh at how Adamary’s hair didn’t seem to move. Of course, she probably spends one paycheck a month on all the crap she puts in her hair.

I opened my car door and slid in behind the steering wheel. See you tomorrow, ladies.

Standing at Adamary’s vehicle the girls said in unison, Night.

With my windows rolled down to enjoy the ocean breeze, I backed out of my spot and waved to Adamary and Liz. They’d worked at the church and had been friends for ten years. It wasn’t until recently I was pulled into their circle. We could have started a friendship five years ago, but my guarded personality didn’t allow it.

Some groups of friends form because collectively they have a lot in common. It couldn’t be more opposite for Adamary, Liz and me. Our backgrounds, lifestyles and especially personalities are very different. Liz is bubbly, an exercise nut with a zest for life and a junk food disorder. Adamary is sarcastic and a self-proclaimed princess with a figure that can stop traffic. Then there’s me. People describe my appearance as attractive and fit, but I feel invisible. My brown, boring, shoulder-length hair is usually worn in a bun. I always sport a suit coat with a skirt or pants of the same solid color. When I’m feeling spunky I wear a pinstriped suit. Outside of my job, I’m a homebody. The average nerd. I wouldn’t admit it to Adamary and Liz but my life held a void before they pulled me into their friendship. I was starting to believe even happily married women needed female friends.

I stopped at the stop sign at the exit of the parking lot and spotted the construction worker and his friends standing on the opposite side of the street. I was going to wave to them but it wouldn’t pay. They were busy ogling Adamary’s curves.

~ * ~

The next morning, only a few minutes after I arrived at work at St. Paul’s School, I rushed through the double doors into the dimly lit sanctuary. The sunshine streaked through the stained glass windows and cascaded across the seven-foot silver cross hung on the front wall. The symbol of salvation brought me a lot of comfort over the past forty years as a member of St. Paul’s. I was baptized, confirmed, married and now an employee of the church, as the principal of the attached parochial elementary and high school. The pews were nicked and the carpet worn down from the sand on parishioner’s shoes but it was still the most beautiful and my favorite part of the whole building.

I flipped the sanctuary lights to the on position. Pastor John? It’s Jess, what’s going on? You sounded upset, why did you say, ‘don’t call the police’?

I caught a glimpse of something. Oh my...

My heart thrashed. I raced to the altar platform, scaled the steps and dropped to my knees beside the man sprawled on the floor. It looked hopeless. His shirt had a small hole and was soaked with blood. I reached out my shaky hand and touched his neck. No pulse. I lowered my face above his mouth. No breath.

I fumbled my phone out of my pocket. My mind raced. What’s going on? Where’s Pastor? Is this man the reason he told me to meet him in here and not to call the police? I don’t know what to do, I need help. The first few words I attempted to text were gibberish. I took a deep breath and tried again. I typed and sent.

My heart pounded as I scanned the church. Slowly I stood and approached the little room off to the left of the altar. Our communion room. It housed altar cloths, banners and wine. Once in the small galley room I noticed the door to the alley sat slightly ajar. I pushed the door open a sliver. I leaned forward and peeked through the crack. I turned my head so my ear was closer to the opening. Engines and a car horn were all I could hear. A little braver, with my hand on the doorknob, I forced the door open enough to lean out and glance left and right down the alleyway. No one in sight. I tugged the door shut and turned the lock.

I returned to the altar platform and knelt beside the man. I whispered a prayer. I raised my head as Adamary and Liz burst through the sanctuary doors. Rushing forward, Adamary yelled, I’m scared half to death. What’s going on?

Liz’s long legs allowed her to easily pass Adamary. She sprinted toward the altar and gasped, Who is that? Is he okay? Is the ambulance on the way?

I wiped my brow. The paramedics can’t help this man. He’s dead.

Liz leaned forward and clasped her arm around her midsection. This isn’t funny. Who is he? Stop it, you’re scaring me.

I’m scaring you? I shook my head. I’m serious. This man has been shot.

Adamary stopped beside Liz and patted her back until Liz stood upright. Adamary walked up the steps and joined me on the platform. What? Shot to death? The poor man, this is horrible.

Liz? Adamary? Do either of you recognize him?

Liz shook her hands in the air. Oooh, dead? Shot at church? Oh my gosh, what if the killer is still in here?

I stood and ironed my black suit pants