Page 34 of The Body in the Backyard
“No,” she said firmly.
“But, but what if I getlonely?”
“Then call someone.”
“Can I call you?”
“Why don’t you call Bella? Your fiancée. I’m sure you two have a lot of wedding plans to discuss,” she said pointedly.
“Oh right. Her.”
Riley could hear Nick moving through the rest of the second floor muttering to himself, “Who the hell needs a fireplace in their closet?”
She took a seat on the fainting couch. “Are you sure you don’t remember seeing anyone behind you on the stairs tonight?”
True to narcissistic form, Griffin had proved to be an unreliable witness to the crime. He had once wandered right through a gas station robbery to buy a local paper that featured an interview with him.
“No. I was getting ready to offer a toast and make a little speech about what a good person I am for supporting underprivileged plants. I thought it would be nice of me to make sure everyone could see me, so I went upstairs.”
“And when you went up there, you didn’t notice anyone around you?”
“I didn’t see anyone. There was a mirror hanging on the wall, and I wanted to make sure I looked my best, so I did a few poses and practiced a few sincere facial expressions.”
If there was a mirror anywhere in his vicinity, Griffin couldn’t take his eyes off it.
“What about any hotel employees? Did you notice any catering staff? Any cleaners?”
“I never notice people like that,” he answered with a yawn. “I just remember waving to my fans and holding up my champagne. And then something hit me from behind, and I remembered to cover my moneymaker. If my face gets broken, I can’t have an on-camera career, you know.”
Annoyed and exhausted, Riley got up and snagged the remote off his nightstand to dim the lights. “On that note, go to sleep and try to wake up a better person.”
She hit the button. But instead of the room lights dimming, they turned purple and started flashing. Loud, thumpy club music poured forth from hidden speakers under the bed, and the crystal ceiling fixture began to spin like a disco ball.
Griffin triumphantly rose to his knees on the mattress. “I knew you still wanted me! I accept your advances!”
He stretched his good arm toward Riley. She stepped back, frantically pushing remote buttons.
“What the hell is going on?” Nick demanded, racing into the room.
Griffin reached for Riley and missed, pitching forward off the side of the bed.
“I hit the wrong button,” Riley yelled over the mood music.
Nick stepped on Griffin’s prone form and snatched the remote from her. The music stopped, and the lights went back to normal.
“Owie,” Griffin moaned from the floor.
“That’s what you get for being a dick,” Nick said.
“I’m starting to believe he really can’t help himself,” Riley said. “Come on. Let’s get him up.”
“I got him,” Nick insisted. “I’m afraid of what he’ll do if you willingly touch him. Then I’ll have to kill him myself, and I didn’t bring any spare crime scene clothes.” He hauled Griffin to his feet and all but tossed him back on the mattress. “Josie will be by in the morning to play security. Go the fuck to sleep.”
“We’ll be back to talk to Bella after the morning show,” Riley told Griffin.
“Wait! Did you check under the bed for bad guys?” Griffin asked, hugging a pillow to his chest with his good arm.
“Your bed sits so low no one could fit under it,” Nick said.
