No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight (24 page)

Chapter Fifty-Three

I strode over to meet Bonnie and Grayson. They both gave me a hug and I introduced them to each other. They were already chatting so I figured they would get along just fine. I showed them where to hang their coats and sent them over to Uncle Shine at the bar to get started.

I went over to stand next to Faylene at the buffet table, knowing I was being a little clingy. Despite my fake confidence, I was terrified about being alone in managing things. She was fussing with the food arrangement.

“Junior,” she yelled out. “Where are my brownies?”

A skinny guy in a red T-shirt, jeans and a backward baseball cap pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen with a tray. “No need to yell, Mama. They’re right here.” He passed by me and I sniffed. They smelled delicious. My stomach growled as he set them down near the other desserts.

“Lexi, this is my son, Junior. Junior, say hello to Lexi.”

He pulled off his cap and smiled at me. “Hey, Lexi.”

“Hey, Junior. Thanks for helping out.”

Faylene put a hand on her son’s shoulder. “Well, let’s get going. We’ve got to get to the other party.”

“Wait.” A flicker of panic shot through me. “You’re leaving? What other party?”

“The bachelor party, just down the street. He said you referred my services to him. Don’t worry, Lexi. We’re just going to help him get set up and we’ll be right back. He said you were okay with sharing.”

My eyes widened. “Wait. Are you talking about the bachelor party being run by Elvis Zimmerman?”

“Yep.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I thought you only did bachelorette parties.”

“I know, but when he called, he sounded desperate. I figured a friend of yours is a friend of mine, so I decided to help. Besides, a party’s a party, right? Now don’t you worry about a thing. The food is all set up and ready. It’s a serve yourself buffet, so no worries. Besides, Uncle Shine is here if you need something before we get back.”

There wasn’t much I could do and I knew Elvis needed the support as much, if not more, than I did, so I didn’t protest.

Faylene and Junior disappeared through the kitchen, headed out the back entrance to their van. I peeked out the window and, sure enough, saw them driving away in a white van that said Faylene’s Bachelorette Party and Supplies. Someone had written
and Bachelor
below the word Bachelorette in what looked like a black Sharpie.

I blew out a breath and turned away from the window just as more guests, including Basia and her cousins, walked through the door. Guess the limousine had arrived. Time to suck it up and be the perfect hostess, whatever the heck that meant.

I greeted everyone with a nervous smile and hug and provided instructions on what to do. It was too many women at the same time for my taste, but I smiled and tried to engage in appropriate small talk.

The bar got busy really fast. I had to give it to Uncle Shine. He had turned on a boom box with popular music, flirted and entertained the girls with the charm of an experienced bartender while deftly plying them with alcohol.

Basia oohed and aahed at the table setting and decorations. A few of the girls were pulling items out of their goody bags examining them.

“When do we get to eat?” Grayson asked, stuffing most of a brownie in her mouth. She had a drink in her other hand. “I’m starving.”

“You’re already pigging out,” I pointed out.

“Oh, please. This is not pigging out. It’s just a snack.” She waved the remainder of a brownie in my face. “I’m talking about the lasagna. It smells heavenly.”

I glanced at the bar and saw it was empty. Everyone who wanted a drink already had one.

“Actually, it’s time to eat right now,” I said. I grabbed a water goblet off the table and clinked a fork against it to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, everyone,” I yelled. “Dinnertime. Please help yourself to the food. After we eat, we’re going to, ah, play some games.”

I was nearly stampeded as the girls rushed past me to get to the buffet line. Basia gave me a one-armed hug. She looked cute in the tiara and veil that Faylene had provided. Much more importantly, she seemed happy and satisfied with my efforts so far. “This is a great party, Lexi. Awesome. Thank you so much.”

“Save the thanks for
after
the party,” I said. “For now, just save me a seat next to you at the table.”

“Done,” she said, smiling.

Chapter Fifty-Four

As the girls piled food on their plates, I walked around making sure we weren’t running out of anything. The lasagna was going fast. Jolka, one of Basia’s cousins, asked if we had any Parmesan cheese, so I said I’d check in the kitchen.

I walked into the kitchen and came to a dead stop at the foot of a giant, hideous, white plastic wedding cake.

“What the heck?” I said aloud.

“Ta-da!”

The top of the wedding cake popped open and a young woman dressed in blond pigtails, super short jean cutoffs that barely covered anything and a tiny blue polka-dotted halter top fastened beneath her considerable breasts jumped out of the cake.

I yelped in surprise, staggering backward and falling over a trash can and onto my butt.

The girl who’d popped out of the cake looked at me in astonishment.

“Who are you?” she asked in a heavy Southern accent.

“Who are
you
?” I asked. “And how did you get in that cake?”

“I’m Billie Sue. Faylene is paying me to jump out of the cake for a bachelor party down the road tonight. I just got here so I thought I should practice.”

There were many questions I wanted to ask, but one seemed more significant than the others. “You have to
practice
jumping out of a plastic cake?”

“Of course. Timing is everything. Watch this.” With a sweeping flourish, she yanked off her halter with one hand and her shorts with the other, leaving her naked save for a teensy-weensy red, white and blue thong.

“What the—” I said, my mouth gaping open in astonishment. “How did you do that?”

“Velcro. Cool, huh?” She put her shirt back on, fastening it beneath her breasts with the Velcro strips and then did the same with her shorts. “Looks like everything is in working order.”

In spite of myself, I was impressed.

“Lexi?”

The voice came from outside the kitchen. It was Basia’s voice.

Holy stripper!

I scrambled to my feet. “Billie Sue, stay in the kitchen, would you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Look, that voice you hear is the bride-to-be of the bachelor whose party you are headed to shortly. So, just wait here, okay?”

Billie Sue frowned, but stayed put. I ran out of the kitchen, nearly knocking Basia over. She was balancing a plate loaded with lasagna and garlic bread.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing is wrong.” She stared at me, so I smiled brightly.

Calm down
,
Lexi.
A
party planner is poised and in control.
A
calm hostess is a successful hostess.

“Look, Basia, I just want everything to go perfectly,” I said. “But there’s no Parmesan cheese. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, Lexi. Just relax. Everything is perfect, even without the cheese. Go get your food.”

“Yep, I’m on it. But there is one more place the Parmesan cheese might be. Save me a seat, okay?”

I raced back into the kitchen. Billie Sue sat on a corner of the cake with her legs crossed. “That food smells good.”

I pointed at her. “Why are you
here
instead of the bachelor party?”

“Faylene told me to meet her here.” Billie Sue uncrossed her legs. “They didn’t have room to take the cake and me on the last trip because the van was full. I don’t go on until later in the party anyway, so they figured they’d just take me over shortly before I am up. Don’t worry. It’s not like I’m going to crash your party or anything.”

“Good to know.”

Still I didn’t like the thought of her hanging around in the kitchen where Basia might discover her. I took out my cell and punched Faylene’s number, but there was no answer. I left a message for her to call me.

I dialed Elvis’s next. He answered after five rings. “Hello?” I could barely hear him over the loud music in the background.

“Elvis?” I shouted.

“Lexi?”

“Did you get Faylene to help you with your party?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

“You
stole
my idea?”

“Shared not stole. I was desperate, okay? I figured you were on to something, so I jumped on the bandwagon. She said you ordered the deluxe package, so I did, too.”

“Is she there now?”

“Yes.”

“Well, tell her to get back here and get rid of the giant plastic cake in the kitchen. Basia almost saw Billie Sue.”

“Who’s Billie Sue?”

“The stripper that goes with the cake.”

“I didn’t order a stripper,” Elvis yelled. I could hear the panic in his voice. “There was no mention of strippers.”

“Lexi?” It was Basia’s voice again outside the kitchen door.

“Oh, God, Elvis. Just tell Faylene to hurry, okay?”

I slid the phone into my pocket and came out of the kitchen with a fake smile plastered on my face. “Nope. Definitely no Parmesan. No worries, though. It will probably taste just fine without it.”

She looked at me strangely. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“Me? Weird? This is normal for me in party situations. You know that.”

She shrugged, probably figuring I had a point. “Okay, I saved you a seat. Come on.”

“Great. Let me get some food.”

I was the last guest to go through the line. There was hardly any lasagna left. We had totally decimated it. I put some food on my plate for show, but my stomach was in such anxious knots, I was pretty sure there was no way I’d be able to force anything down. At my request, Uncle Shine turned off the music so we could speak to each other at the table without screaming.

“Where’s your drink?” Gray asked me as I sat and then started laughing. She’d already plowed through half her lasagna. She looked completely toasted. What the heck was Uncle Shine serving them at the bar?

“I’m in charge of this party, Gray. I have to stay focused. Plus, I can’t drink. I’m the designated driver.”

“Designated driver? Are you kidding me? Basia told me we’re all going to take the limo home. You included. This is a bachelorette party, Lexi. You
must
imbibe. It’s the rule. I’ll go get you the perfect drink.”

It wasn’t like I could stop her, so I watched as she staggered toward the bar. A few minutes later she came back with a drink.

“What’s this?” I looked at the drink. It was green and actually smelled good.

“An apple martini. Shaken not stirred.”

I took a cautious sip. “It’s pretty good.”

“Of course, it’s good. Would I steer you wrong?” Gray tipped her glass to mine. “Good work tonight, my friend. You’re sure to be voted Party Planner of the Year.”

“I’m just hoping to survive the night.”

On my other side, Basia nudged my arm. “OMG! Lexi, this is the best lasagna ever. Orgasmic. Who’s the caterer?”

“A woman named Faylene. She’s got a business doing these kinds of parties. She says it’s her grandmother’s recipe.”

From across the table, Bonnie lifted a fork of lasagna to me. “Basia’s right. It’s heavenly. Great choice of menu. This is a fantastic party.”

I felt some of the tension of the night unwind even if my stomach revolted at the thought of eating anything. “Thanks, Bonnie.”

Everyone ate steadily while I pretended to eat and pushed the food around on my plate. I nervously kept watching the kitchen, hoping Faylene would magically appear, but so far, nothing.

Basia’s cousin, Jolka, who seemed overly tipsy, suddenly stood up. “I’d like to toast the bride and wish her all the best.” Her voice slurred and she burped, covering her mouth while everyone laughed. “May her days be fun and her nights filled with passion and a really,
really
big one.”

Basia rolled her eyes and laughed.

“To you, my dear cousin.” Jolka leaned over the table, giggling, her hand with the glass outstretched for a toast.

I saw the disaster a split second before it happened. Later I would look back and think I should have anticipated it, but I didn’t. By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late.

Chapter Fifty-Five

My phone vibrated in my pocket just as Jolka leaned over tapping her glass against Basia’s. Her white frilly blouse swayed and then dipped into the candle in the centerpiece. When she straightened, the blouse was on fire.

“Aaaagh!” she screamed, ripping off her blouse and throwing it to the floor.

As everyone gasped, Jolka’s sister, Victoria, leaped into action. She snatched her vodka and tonic and threw it on the burning blouse. The fire surged.

“Oops!” she said. “I thought it was my water glass.”

I snapped out of my trance and grabbed the first thing I could find at hand to beat out the fire. Unfortunately, the object, while big, was also light and plastic. I stared at it for a second, trying to figure out what it was.

Grayson, who was standing next to me, giggled. “It’s a giant inflatable penis. It was in my goody bag. I
blew
it up. Get it?”

Holy party favor!

I tossed it over my shoulder and grabbed my water goblet instead. I dumped the contents of it on the blouse but the alcohol had made it too hot. I needed something bigger and heavier to smother it. I ran for the coat area, hoping Slash would forgive me. I yanked my new coat off the hanger and ran back to the table.

Uncle Shine already stood there. Apparently trying to be helpful, he had dumped an entire bottle of tequila on the fire. The fire surged again causing renewed shrieking.

I turned to the partygoers and shouted, “If one more person throws alcohol on the fire, I’ll torch you myself.”

Everyone backed off, possibly more afraid of me than the fire. I beat at the fire with my coat until it went out. There was no damage to the stone floor other than some blackening, but Jolka’s blouse was a complete loss. I surveyed my coat and added that to the loss column, as well.

Sighing, I shrugged out of my sweater and handed it to Jolka.

“Sorry about the blouse,” I said.

“My fault,” she said, taking the sweater and slipping it on while Victoria found a safety pin to hold it together in the front.

Disaster averted. Sort of.

Where the heck was Faylene?

After a minute everyone started giggling about the incident. I was more than a bit surprised that no one seemed overly upset or worried. Instead, they just sat down and started eating again, chatting cheerfully like nothing at all had happened.

Ooookay. While I was glad everyone was taking it so well, something didn’t seem right. Worried, I went to return to my seat when I noticed Basia’s chair was empty.

“Basia?” I said, looking around. Where had she gone?

Basia came out of the kitchen pushing the giant plastic wedding cake on a moveable trolley in front of her. Billie Sue sat artfully on top of the cake. Thank God she still had clothes on.

“Lexi, who is this?” Basia asked me, a hand on her hip. “She just scared the crap out of me jumping out of this cake.”

I sighed. “Oh, great.”

“Just tell me you didn’t get a female stripper for this party.”

“I...ah...” I stuttered.

“Of course, she didn’t get me for this party,” Billie Sue said. “I’m practicing for a party down the street.”

“A party down the street?” Basia blinked in surprise. “The Zimmerman party?”

Billie Sue examined her fingernails. “I can’t answer that. It’s confidential information.”

Basia narrowed her eyes at me. “Elvis ordered a stripper for Xavier’s party?”

“Well, ah, I don’t think he exactly ordered—”

Before I could say anything more, the front door burst open and three firemen in full gear with duffel bags rushed in.

“Where’s the fire?” the one in the front shouted.

“No, no!” I shouted, running forward and waving my arms. “Everything is fine. It was just a little accident. No one and nothing got hurt or damaged except for a blouse and my new coat.”

The fireman in front nodded at me. “Oh, good. Glad you’ve got it under control. I was afraid we’d got here way too early. Are you girls ready to
hang
out?”

To my astonishment, the three firemen whipped off their coats. They were naked underneath except for teeny-weeny G-strings, fireman hats and boots.

One of the firemen pressed a button on his phone and music blared from a set of wireless speakers in his bag, complete with a siren accompaniment in the background.

“Let’s get this party started,” one of them yelled. “It’s going to get hot in here!”

The girls, including Basia, apparently forgot all about the fire, the burned blouse, Billie Sue and the plastic wedding cake. Instead, they started laughing, screaming and circling around the firemen strippers.

I watched with my mouth hanging open. What in God’s name was going on? Faylene had ordered fireman strippers? Really?

Worse, what had happened to the girls? They were all acting strange. It was like everyone had completely lost their minds. Or maybe this was a normal occurrence at a bachelorette party. It wasn’t like I had any parameters by which to base a theory.

I glanced around the room. The life-size poster of the guy who looked like Slash stared back at me, amused. That reminded me that we hadn’t even had a chance to play Pin the Junk on the Hunk yet.

If Faylene didn’t get here soon, I was going to lose it.

A fireman danced over to me, presumably because I was the only one not screaming like a lunatic. He circled his hips at me. “Hey, baby, you are smoking hot. Want to check my hose?”

I winced. “Ugh. Really? That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

He grinned at me. “I’m burning up, babe. Be the fuel to my fire.”

I was spared another
ugh
because the phone vibrated in my pocket. “Excuse me,” I said, turning away from him and punching the answer button.

“Hello?” I pressed a finger to my other ear so I could hear.

“
Cara
, I’ve been calling you.”

“Slash? I’m sorry I missed your call. There’s been, ah...an incident. I’m sorry to report it involved the new coat you gave me.”

“Forget the coat and listen carefully. Do
not
eat the lasagna.”

“What? Why? The food is the one thing that’s gone right tonight. What’s wrong with it?”

“Let’s just say it’s not oregano in the secret sauce.”

“
What?
”

He paused. “Do I hear a siren? Are people screaming? What’s going on over there?”

I walked into the kitchen, which helped a little with the noise, but not much.

“Never mind about the siren and the screaming. What
exactly
is in the food?”

“Marijuana,” he said. “A potent strain.”

Holy lasagna!
No wonder everyone was feeling so happy.

At that moment, Grayson ran into the kitchen, grabbing my arm. Her face was flushed and she was laughing. I tried to see if her pupils were dilated, but it was dark and she pulled me out of the kitchen where it was darker, so it was a lost cause. I tried to remember how much lasagna she’d eaten, but all I could remember was that it had been a lot.

“Lexi, they’re setting up an oil pit,” she screamed so I could hear over the siren and shrieking. “You’ve got to come see this.”

Oil pit?

Oh.
My.
God.

Slash said something else, but I couldn’t hear. “I’ve got to go, Slash. It’s an emergency. I’ll call you back later.” I hung up and slipped the phone in my pocket.

By the time we ran out to the room, the firemen had already set up a small kiddie pool. It looked like two of the guys were going to wrestle each other while covered in baby oil. The third fireman had brought a chair for Basia and set it up right in front of the oil pit.

One look at Basia’s face and I noticed something wasn’t right. She looked...ill. Then I remembered the huge amount of lasagna she’d eaten and the fact she was so petite.

I took one a step toward her when the fireman started to grind out a dance in front of her. He wiggled, sashayed and danced to “Light My Fire.” He had just started a lap dance when Basia threw up.

For a small girl, she fire-hosed that guy, thoroughly drenching him. He screamed like a girl and ran toward the kiddie pool, where the two oiled-up guys were fake wrestling and flexing their biceps. He took one step into the pool, slipped and took both of them down with him.

While I stared in horror, the three of them splashed and flailed around like fish out of water, trying to get away from each other. At that exact moment, the kitchen door swung open with a bang. I whirled around as Faylene and Junior stepped into the room.

“Oh, Faylene! Thank God you are here,” I shouted, relief flooding through me. I took one step toward her, when a guy holding a gun to Junior’s back followed them into the room.

I froze, my eyes widening in astonishment. “Who’s that?”

Faylene didn’t answer me, but she looked completely terrified. Junior wasn’t looking so good himself.

“Turn the music off,” the guy with the gun shouted at us. When no one heard him, he fired a shot in the air. The music abruptly stopped and the room fell silent.

The three firemen finally managed to stand in the kiddie pool.

The guy with the gun wrinkled his nose. “What the hell is going on here?”

I lifted my shoulders. “Ah...a party?”

He shook his head and then poked Junior in the back with his gun. “Okay, we’re all here. Where’s my stash?”

Junior jerked his head at the kitchen. “It’s in my mom’s oregano jar in the kitchen. It’s in the large clear jar on the counter next to the stove.”

The guy with the gun pointed at me. “You there. Go get it. No funny business or I start popping people. Keep your hands up where I can see them.

Keeping my hands up, I went into the kitchen. He propped open the door with his foot so he could watch me. I found the jar on the counter right where Junior said it would be.

It was a
big
jar—the size of a cookie jar. How much of the stash had been in the jar?

I handed the jar over to guy. He peered into it and frowned. “Where is the rest of it?”

Junior swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “I, ah, think my mom baked it into the lasagna.”

The guy looked at Junior in shock. “You let your mom bake my stash into a lasagna?”

“Yeah, well, she thought it was oregano.”

“Are you a complete idiot?” he screamed. “Wait. Don’t answer that.” The guy waved the gun at me. “You, there. Go get me the lasagna.”

I retrieved the lasagna tray and held it out for his inspection. He peered into the tray.

“This is all the lasagna that’s left?” He glared at me.

I lifted my shoulders. “We were hungry.”

“Exactly what kind of stash are we talking about?” Basia stalked over. She looked a lot better now, presumably because a good bit of the lasagna was now out of her stomach. Somehow, she had miraculously escaped most of her own upchuck, but she was spitting mad.

“Are you saying you cooked something illegal in my lasagna?” She glared at Junior. “At
my
bachelorette party?”

“Marijuana,” I supplied. “A potent strain.”

“I’m
so
sorry.” Junior looked at Basia pleadingly. “I panicked and dumped it in the jar. I didn’t know my mom was making lasagna for the party. I didn’t want to hand it over to Leo so he could sell it to the unsuspecting public, so I hid it.”

“We
are
the unsuspecting public,” Basia shouted at him.

“Oops.” Junior swallowed hard. “Guess I bungled that good.”

“How dare you!” Basia jabbed a finger in his chest. “You think it’s okay to hide drugs in someone’s food? Do you?”

Call it habit, instinct or just the result of a longtime friendship, but something in her voice didn’t match up with her actions. On the upside, the guy with the gun didn’t seem the least bit worried or intimidated by her.

His mistake.

“Well, I...I didn’t think about that...I’m sorry,” Junior babbled. He looked ready to cry.

“Don’t give excuses,” Basia said. “It isn’t manly.”

Her plan went down faster than I expected. Basia shoved Junior hard. He stumbled into the man with the gun who lost his hold on the oregano jar. As the jar flew through the air, I leaped forward, shoving the lasagna tray into the guy’s face and twisting his arm, causing the gun to fall to the floor. Gray, giggling, kicked it across the room. I wrapped my arms around the guy trying to bring him down. But given that he and I were now covered in tomato sauce and cheese, he was slippery and hard to hold.

“A little help here,” I shouted at no one in particular.

Two of the fireman leaped into action, jumping onto us, but it only caused us to crash to the ground and slide around the floor like greased pigs. No one was able to hold on to anything. As we slid across the floor, I shouted at Basia, motioning with my head toward Uncle Shine.

The bad guy managed to get to his feet and started running toward his gun. Basia, seeing where I was going with this, snatched the full bottle of whiskey Uncle Shine held in his hand. As the guy passed by, Basia clocked him in the head with it. He stumbled a couple of steps before I leaped to my feet and gave him a hard shove toward the open compartment of the plastic wedding cake. He fell inside and Basia slammed the top of the cake shut after stuffing his legs in.

“
That’s
for crashing my party,” she said.

At that moment, the front door flew open. To my astonishment, Xavier’s entire bachelor party raced in, led by Slash.

“
Cara
?” he said, skidding to a halt and looking at me in horror.

I glanced down at myself. I was smeared with lasagna, baby oil and other stuff better not mentioned.

I spread my arms. “Regardless of how this looks, I’m fine, Slash.”

The guys took in the scene with wide eyes—the kiddie pool, the naked and oiled firemen, Billie Sue and a giant plastic wedding cake upon which Basia now sat.

I just stood there covered in...stuff.

Junior retrieved the gun and gingerly held it out to Slash, assuming he was the police. “It’s all a big mistake, Officer. I’m on probation. Leo gave me the stash to sell. I didn’t want to do it, so I panicked and dumped it into my mom’s oregano jar. I was just trying to hide it until I could figure out how to turn it in.”