Page 52 of The Body in the Backyard

“My girl wants sad ice cream, she gets sad ice cream,” he said, patting her knee.

He’d just reversed out of the parking spot when his phone rang. He answered it on speaker phone. “What’s up, Gam Gam?”

“You better get over here. We’ve got a Code Cold Burrito,” Mrs. Penny barked. It sounded like women were screaming in the background.

Nick thumped his head against the driver’s seat. “I don’t care about your leftovers.”

“I’m not talking about leftovers. I’m talking about a Code Cold Burrito. Don’t you read the memos I leave on your desk?”

“I haven’t seen the top of my desk in weeks. Just tell me what a Cold Burrito is so I can regret knowing.”

He glanced Riley’s way just in time to catch her nose twitch.

“Uh-oh,” she murmured.

“There’s a stiff in the shrubbery at Gentry’s. A Cold Burrito. I suggest you get here before the cops.”

“Christ. Who did you murder?” Nick said, accelerating out of the lot.

“I can’t hear you over the dipshit twins trying to out-scream each other. People act like they’ve never seen a stiff before.” With that, Mrs. Penny hung up.

14

2:15 p.m. Friday, November 1

Griffin’s assistant was ghostly pale when he opened the front door. His hair was messier than usual, and his staff shirt had fresh stains down the front. Riley had a feeling it was barf. He managed to point a trembling finger toward the backyard, but it wasn’t necessary considering they could just follow the sound of the screaming.

“You know how quiet my life was before I met you?” Nick said to her as he took the lead.

“I could say the same, except for my roommate situation.”

They walked straight through the house, out the open French doors, and onto the patio. Riley could hear the far-off wail of a siren. It was becoming the soundtrack of her life.

They found the source of the screaming on the back patio. “OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!” Griffin screeched with his hands on his face,Home Alone–style, as he ran in tiny circles. Bella was howling while shaking her hands like she was trying to dry her nails.

“Christ,” Nick said, staring up at the twelve-foot-tall aroused Griffin statue.

“Focus, Santiago.” Riley pointed to Mrs. Penny, who was in a flower bed next to a bushy rhododendron and a pair of legs wearing men’s loafers.

“Yo!” Mrs. Penny called, waving her cane in the air.

They stepped off the patio and headed in her direction.

Bella’s dog sniffed the dead guy’s shoe, then resumed barking. Mrs. Penny poked the facedown body with the tip of her cane. “Yep. He’s definitely dead.”

Bella’s screaming went up an octave, and Riley plugged her ears with her fingers.

“Stop poking the body,” Nick ordered. “Thorn, take care of these two. Duct-tape their mouths shut if you have to.”

Riley picked up the dog and returned to the screaming couple.

“Hey, guys. Let’s go sit down for a minute,” she shouted over the noise, pointing toward the seating area next to the hideous statue.

Still screaming, Griffin abruptly changed direction and ran face-first into the statue’s erection. He fell backward to the grass, dazed and blinking.

“That’s gonna leave another mark,” Riley guessed.

Bella took the dog from Riley’s arms and continued howling as she jogged toward the patio furniture.