Murder's Last Resort by Marta Chausée

sat at the counter, Lily and I, lost in our thoughts while we chowed down our veggie and cheese omelets. Tammy baked her own biscuits, also lighter than air. They were so good, they almost seemed like dessert. In front of us, Delbert, our server, his back turned, was busy rinsing out glasses in hot water. The steam rose in curls around him. If I had a job like that, my hair would be a constant ball of frizzy twine.
    “Why would someone abduct me, Lily,” I asked her, still looking at Delbert.
    “I don’t know, Maya. Did you ever stop to think it might be a message to keep the hell away from the murders?” she asked.
    “That thought did occur to me,” I admitted, “but I struck it immediately. You and I both know that’s not going to happen.”
    “No, of course not,” she said, looking with either pity, disapproval or maybe even wistful protectiveness at her dear, knuckle-headed friend.
    “Not to revisit an unpopular subject, but what do you suppose has happened to French?” she ventured, watching for my response with her smart, hazel eyes.
    “Beats me,” I answered. “That man can be so vexing at times. He’s so independent, I sometimes wonder why he bothered to get married.” I noted her look of surprise. Seldom did I let down my guard regarding French, allowing even a sliver of my frequent frustrations with him to show.
    Just then, some men entered and slid into a booth against the wall. Our backs were to them. Lily and I perked up. We both recognized the voices and were ready to eavesdrop with the best of them.
    “This whole deal has thrown me for a loop,” said Rick.
    “You said it,” Koenig answered. “Do you think we should call in the state troopers to help us with this?”
    “Absolutely not,” Rick said. “We can handle this. It’s the biggest thing to come our way, ever. When we solve these murders, we’re not going to share the glory with any other department or bureau.”
    “How long can we keep those Sapphire conference people caged up on the property?” Tom asked. “Life goes on and we have to release them back to theirs sooner or later.”
    “You’re right, but everything’s too fishy. I don’t like that French has disappeared and I don’t like that nosey Maya snooping around. She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?” Rick answered.
    Lily and I hunched over our plates. Now was not the time to be found out. I was trying to blend into the stainless steel countertop and the red Naugahyde of the bar stool. Chances were we were safe from discovery. If they hadn’t noticed us yet, they probably weren’t going to.
    “Yeah,” Tom said. “Something’s got to be done about her.”
    “Like what?” Rick asked.
    “Maybe we can trump up some charges against her, set her up for a fall. We can put her in jail to get her out of our hair,” Tom said.
    I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. They had nerve to speak about this in public. I guess they reckoned no one was listening. I guess they were wrong.
    Now I had one more thing to worry about—them. Part of me had been wondering if Rick had somehow finagled my abduction to give me pause. The answer was no.
    Truth was, whoever abducted me knew exactly what he was doing. The intent was to scare me away from the case. He could have easily dumped me into the nearest body of water.
    In Florida, it was easy to do away with a corpse, if one just happened to have a corpse lying around. The woods that flanked the Interstate were swampy and bordered by lakes or maybe the lakes were bordered by woods and swamps. From an airplane, Central Florida looked like soggy Swiss cheese surrounded by oversized parsley.
    Those woods, swamps and lakes were stocked with nature’s clean-up crew, the crew of wide snouts, strong jaws and jagged, alligator teeth. A body could be dropped off at midnight and, by morning, no evidence would remain.
    My thoughts returned to Lily and how we were trapped at the counter. I motioned to Delbert, placing my finger over my