// Chapter 1
Dev needed to be somewhere else. Not stuck behind a dumpster, negotiating with an unwashed, unkempt, unpleasant man, over a stupid jacket.
“Fifty bucks, man.” The man squinted, dilated eyes staring at the sun. “This is Italian leather.”
Dev wanted to throw Homeless Man a ten and point out the windbreaker was neither Italian nor leather. But the morning sunlight was invading his pounding head, and the smells coming from the dumpster reached into his stomach and tossed it like a salad. A very old salad.
More importantly, he was losing precious time.
He withdrew two twenties from his pocket. “Here. Does this work?”
The altered-statesman stretched his hand out and grinned showing three teeth, all rotted. “Sweet.”
Deal done, Dev slipped into the jacket and zipped it up. It smelled tangy, but he couldn’t afford to mind. There were stains on his shirt, stains he needed to hide.
The whine of police sirens made him flinch.
Homeless Man chuckled. “That’s my swan song, man.” He ambled away from the dumpster, headed toward the freeway.
Dev watched a parade of flashing lights whip into the hotel parking lot next door. He backed a few steps, his racing heart urging him to turn and run.
Instead, he forced himself to walk toward the university. His legs twitched, ready to take off, and his pulse throbbed violently. Around the corner from the fast food joints and gas stations, California State University, Fullerton stretched across 236 acres of prime real estate. The glass-and-steel buildings, punctuated with jacaranda trees, closed in around him. The scent of star jasmine floating on the warm June air sickened him.
Relax, he kept telling himself. Only a guilty man runs.
While he strolled, last night’s events galloped across his mind. He knew he’d been in the hotel lobby, waiting for…someone—a sales rep? From there, images flashed, brief, chaotic, in no clear order. Blonde hair and floral perfume…white sheets and blood…the tang of copper…a shiny, sharp edge, and a scream.
A second scream, from the maid, had awakened him to the horror in the room. He bolted, half-dazed, half-mad, fully terrified.
God, my head hurts.
The university campus was too deserted to hide him. At the corner of State College, he recalled a bakery down the street. Panera, or one of those chains, it didn’t matter.
He needed to clear his head, figure out his next move. Coffee sounded like a good start. He opened the door, flinching at his reflection as he did. But the server barely glanced at him as she gave him coffee, and took his money.
He shouldn’t have run away, but the deed was done. With a sigh of reluctance, Dev Minneopa pulled out his cell phone and called the only person who could help him.
* * * * *
Peri Minneopa draped her tall frame across a lounge chair, surveying her surroundings.
Soft tones of green, from pale to dusky, painted the yard. Breeze whispered through the swath of shocking pink bougainvillea, carrying hints of scent from nearby plumeria.
The garden was an oasis, yet all she could hear was the hammering and yammering of the construction team in her house. She took another swig of coffee and closed her eyes, reminding herself that she made this choice.
God, why did I make this choice?
The French doors from the kitchen opened, letting more decibels into the yard for a moment. Peri glanced back to see her fiancé, Skip, shuffling toward her. He’d acclimated well to using a cane. His limp was almost unnoticeable.
“Morning, Doll.” Leaning in, he gave her an affectionate peck on her lips, his mustache brushing her face.
“Is it too early for a martini?” She nodded toward the house. “They insist on getting started at seven-damned-o’clock every morning.”
Skip smiled as he settled into the second lounge chair, placing his mug next to hers. “Jared and Willem promised eight weeks, right?”
“Eight of the longest weeks of my life.”
“Well, don’t stick around. Go for a run. Visit Blanche. Clean out your office.”
Peri watched her fingers trace the arm of the chair. “Not in the mood to run, Blanche is out on a call, and…I don’t know, Skip, I can’t seem to find the energy to dig through all those files. All that paper.”
“Maybe call the therapist?”
“Already got an appointment, later today.” A small alligator lizard caught her eye, parked on a paving stone, soaking in the morning heat. “I don’t think she’s helping me that much. It’s not like I have PTSD. I’m not anxious, or afraid. I’m just…not me.”
“That’s part of it, Doll. That’s why we keep doing the homework, until we feel like ourselves again.”
She tried to smile, but it felt like a grimace. “I really hate going through this while you’re going through your physical therapy. It feels like I’m not being very supportive.”
He rose and slid into her lounge chair, wrapping her in his arms. “Hey, we’re doing great. If anything, we understand each other even better.”
“I wish I was back in my old house. I’ll love this place when it’s finished, but in the meantime, all the noise and the mess—ugh.”
“Who knew your house would sell so quickly? And I did offer to let you move in with me. You still can, anytime.”
“Yes, but I want to do this right. Buying this house together means it’ll be ours, not just mine or yours.” She didn’t need to remind him of their previous, disastrous attempt to live together. Snuggling into his chest, she took a deep breath. “Two weeks down, six more to go.”
A song softly hummed amid the background cacophony of drills and hammers. Peri stretched across her fiancé to wrestle her phone from the table. She didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway.
“Hey, Sis, it’s Dev. I’m in trouble.”
She sat up, pushing against Skip. “Dev? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t explain it over the phone.” His voice sounded raspy. “I’m at Panera on State College.”
She ran her fingers through her blond hair. “And?”
“And what?” His voice got a little louder. “I need you to meet me here.”
“Oh, so you snap your fingers and I’m expected to jump?”
She could almost hear the wall of stubbornness building. It was a family curse.
“Forget it. Sorry I bothered you.”
“Dev, don’t. I’m sorry. I’ll be right there.” Peri ended the call and turned to Skip. “My brother’s in trouble. Want to go for a ride?”
Murder Bytes is the fifth book in the Peri Minneopa Mysteries series and you can buy it here: https://www.amazon.com/Murder-Bytes-Peri-Minneopa-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B083S4G7VT .
GAYLE CARLINE spent almost 30 years as a software engineer until she chewed her way out of the cubicle to become a writer. She began with magazine and newspaper columns, but she wanted to write whodunits. Reading her husband’s mind was good experience for writing mysteries. Most of her books are set in Placentia, where there are always good places to hide a body. When she’s not writing, Gayle spends time with her horses, her family, and her friends. Learn more about her books, columns, and hobbies at http://gaylecarline.com.
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