Merry Wrath - Book 4
Merry Wrath has seen dangers galore in her former job as a CIA field agent. But nothing has prepared her for this—an overnight Mommy and Me lock-in with her Girl Scout troop, complete with movies, dodgeball, four cats, a baby...and a dead body.
When the mysterious corpse's identity is revealed, Merry and her former handler, Riley, realize they might have a domestic terrorist situation on their hands...one that needs diffused quickly before any more dead bodies appear. Merry once again calls on her former professional skills to track down a killer. Between a new, hottie female medical examiner—who seems a bit too interested in Merry's boyfriend, Rex—the demanding President of the United States, the world's 2nd largest snail collection, and an incident with pink hair dye, Merry has her work cut out for her. Can she stop an attack before it begins? Or will this be one Movie Night without a happy ending?
"Leslie Langtry keeps us on the edge of our seats in the fourth Merry Wrath mystery." - Kings River Life
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Chapter One
Reverend Miller stepped up to Riley and me, smiling as he sprinkled us with holy water. Kelly and her husband Robert immediately took a large step backwards as I burst into flame. This is what I get for going to church.
I didn't really burst into flame. I had my suspicions, and apparently, so did my best friend and her husband, but I didn't so much as sizzle. I just haven't been to a church in…never.
"Nervous?" Riley mumbled to me out of the side of his mouth.
"Oh, and you're perfectly at home here?" I asked.
"Of course. I'm a Methodist, born and reared," he replied smoothly.
I had to admit—he looked completely at ease in this large Lutheran church in Who's There, Iowa.
"I knew I should've shot you dead that time in Kabul."
"Do we have an atheist in our midst?" Riley feigned horror.
"No. Just an avowed agnostic. I still can't figure out why Kelly chose me to be Finn's godmother, and I have no way of even comprehending why she chose you to be the godfather."
Riley didn't reply because at that moment, he was in the midst of handing my tiny namesake over to Reverend Miller to be doused with water. The two-month-old screamed in protest, flailing her fist in the perfect right hook that landed on the minister's chin. I couldn't help but smile. This kid was definitely a future spy. Maybe it made sense to have two CIA agents as her godparents after all.
My name is Merry Wrath. I was born Finnoughla Merrygold Czrygy, here in this small city in Iowa. I used to be a CIA agent, but now I'm just a Girl Scout leader—a job that is infinitely more dangerous than being a spy.
Almost two years ago, I was outed by the vice president of the United States while still in the field. He was angry with my father Senator Czrygy's take on one of his policies, and accidentally turned my name over to the press.
The CIA retired me with a nice severance package, and I changed my name to Merry Wrath (my mother's awesome maiden name) and slunk back here to live out the rest of my life in what I thought would be a dull retirement.
It's been anything but. In the past year I've been framed for the murder of various terrorists and a prison escape by an American spy, fought off a smuggling ring at camp, and dodged the Yakuza in Washington DC, all with my troop of eight-year-old little girls in tow.
And I suspect they've loved every second of it. Kelly, my co-leader, wasn't so convinced.
Reverend Miller handed me Finn, and the little girl stopped crying immediately. As I looked into her tiny face, I thought she was smiling at me. And then I smelled it. My former career as a spy did not prepare me for this.
"Thank you everyone for joining us today," the good reverend said. Wow—I missed something. Was it over?
"Please join us in the basement for punch and cookies," he added.
I handed the baby to Riley. He was a natural with her. That's another thing I never knew about him. I watched as his grin faded to horror when he smelled what's just happened.
"I'll change her, Riley." Kelly stepped up and took her daughter from my former boss's arms. "Head downstairs and we'll meet you in a moment."
"Nice of you to take time off from work for this," I said as the two of us descend into the dungeon of horrors.
"I wouldn't miss this for anything," Riley replied.
Huh. I didn't really expect that answer.
The church basement was actually not bad. My complete lack of experience in the churchy department had led me to believe it would be a torture chamber that would do the Spanish Inquisition proud. Instead, it was a sunny room with carpet and the Lutheran Ladies League standing behind a table full of cookies and bars. A large punch bowl filled with bright green liquid resembling antifreeze rested at the end.
Rex, my boyfriend and detective of Who's There's finest, was sitting with the twelve little girls from my troop. They were abnormally quiet. I wondered if he'd drugged them into submission.
"Thanks for watching them." I greeted Rex with a kiss.
"No problem. They've been great." He kissed me back. "I think they would've been fine up there."
I shook my head. "Kelly would never forgive me if they had a water war in the baptism whatchamacallit or swiped the wine and crackers."
An amused grin spread over my boyfriend's face. Oh sure, I knew those things had different names—I just didn't know what they were.
Before he could make fun of me, I asked, "How did you get them to be so quiet?"
Rex turned to look at the little girls. They were sitting completely still, wearing cute dresses and patent leather shoes. They looked expectantly at the doorway.
"I just told them if they were quiet, they'd get to hold the baby when she came down."
A unified scream that hasn't been heard since the war cries of Norse Berserkers in the twelfth century erupted from the table. Finn had arrived and was now surrounded by little girls reaching for her with sticky hands.
"You let them eat first?" I asked Rex.
He nodded. "I really had no choice."
I totally understood. But now the girls were sugared up and waging a greedy assault on Kelly. I turned away. She could handle it. I was thirsty, and even that neon green liquid in the punch bowl looked good.
"So, did you burst into flame when the reverend sprinkled you with holy water?" Rex asked as he ladled me a cup of the neon lime, frothy fluid.
I glared at him. "Why does everyone think that would happen? I'm an agnostic, not a Satanist, for crying out loud."
"That's a good thing," Kelly joined us, taking the cup meant for me. "Because we're having a Mommy and Me Movie Night lock-in here this weekend."
I stared at her. "What? Why?"
I'd managed to avoid doing a lock-in or any other kind of slumber party with our troop since our unfortunate trip to Washington, DC a few months ago. In fact, if I never shared a building overnight with my troop again, I'd be a happy woman.
"It's already arranged, and everyone is going. Including you." Kelly shot me a look before rescuing her husband Robert—who was still under siege by the girls.
Rex watched her go. "She's still mad at you."
I poured my own cup of punch and took a sip. Ooooh! It was good! I'd have to get the recipe from the Lutheran Ladies League before I left.
"Yes," I answered. "She still hasn't forgiven me for the whole Evelyn thingy."
Rex turned his eyes on me. "Really? She's still mad because you took an adult with you who wasn't a parent—no one even knew her—who disappeared the minute you got back?" He picked up a Rice Krispy bar and studied it. "I wonder why?"
I threw my hands up in the air. "I thought she was one of the Kaitlin's moms! She said she was a parent and volunteered to go! How could I possibly know she was some weird, mysterious Girl Scout groupie?"
"You're right. Kelly's so unreasonable," Rex laughed.
I grumbled as I poured another glass of punch, filled my plate with cookies, and stomped over to a table. Rex and Riley joined me. Rex was eating. Riley was not. He was a bit of a health nut, and I'd guess he drew the line at glow in the dark beverages.
"You still haven't found her for me," I accused.
Rex shook his head. "I've done as much as I can. But there's no Evelyn Trout in any database, anywhere."
"She exists," I insisted.
And I knew this because I'd spent a week in Washington, DC with her and my Girl Scout troop. Maria Gomez, my friend from the CIA, saw her too. She'd offered to help me locate the woman, but I'd felt like I already used up all my favors at the Agency. Maria had put her job on the line to help me before, and I didn't want her to have to do it again.
"I believe you," Rex said, hand over his heart. "It's just weird that she isn't in any pictures from your trip."
That was weird. The girls had taken lots of pictures on the trip. I was in several—and they weren't very flattering, if you asked me. Why the girls thought they needed hundreds of close-ups of my nose, chin, and left eye was beyond me. Maria was even in some of the photos (and she looked fabulous in every damn one). But there wasn't even a glimpse of Evelyn Trout in any of them.
Who was this woman? And why did she go with us? Who in their right mind would tag along to Washington, DC in the heat of summer with a Scout troop? I wouldn't have—except that I'd had no choice.
I decided to ask Riley. That man owed me big. Like a rage virus King Kong fighting a zombie Godzilla big. And I wasn't going to let him off the hook.
The baby started crying, which signaled to me the end of this party. It wasn't fun anymore if the guest of honor was crying. That was true if you were a baby or despotic world leader. It was time to go.
Rex and I led my troop of girls outside where we waited until they got picked up one by one by their parents. I tried to remember each mom's name as she drove up. That would show Kelly. Then, there'd be absolutely no need for a lock-in. The plan was foolproof.
Okay, the spirit behind the plan was foolproof. Except for the fact that I didn't know a single mother who showed up. I decided we'd need nametags for the lock-in. And even then, I wasn't guaranteeing anything.
"Did they each get in the right car?" Kelly asked as her little family made an appearance outside. "With the right parent?"
I was not going to roll my eyes in front of Finn. That seemed disrespectful somehow. Did babies understand sarcasm?
Rex nodded. "I made sure of it."
"Thanks Rex," Kelly kissed him on the cheek. "At least one of you is responsible."
Finn started to cry again. I rolled my eyes. No reaction.
"Hey, I'm responsible! We made it through an entire trip without anyone dying."
Kelly just shot me a look before she and Robert and the baby (who had a deplorable lack of understanding of sarcasm) left.
"Shall we?" Rex held out his arm.
I nodded. "We shall."
We'd had the whole evening planned. Rex and I were going to cuddle up on his couch with my Hitler-resembling cat, Philby, and her three kittens. Rex had rented a couple of movies, and I was bringing the popcorn because that was the one snack the felines didn't like and therefore, didn't mess with. I'd learned the hard way that cats love cupcake frosting, bacon, and hamburgers. Philby liked to touch any meat you were eating with her paw. Then she'd sit back and wait for us to be grossed out. No cat should be that smart.
"It was nice seeing you again, Wrath." Riley stepped outside as he buttoned his suit jacket.
Rex held out his hand and Riley shook it. "Are you heading back to DC?"
Riley nodded. "Yes. I've got a lot of work to do."
I didn't ask him to help with the Evelyn search—it wasn't the right time or place. See? Responsible! I didn't even think about asking…okay, I thought about it. But I managed to control myself. Because…responsible!
"Do you need a ride to the airport?" Rex asked.
"No. I've got a rental car. But thanks." Riley gave me look I couldn't interpret before walking away.
Rex and I headed back to our houses, which were, conveniently, across the street from each other. After changing clothes, I filled a laundry basket with popcorn and cats and headed over.
"Just in time," Rex said with a smile as he opened the door.
"For what?"
Oh crap. Had I forgotten something? If Kelly was here, she'd shake her finger and tell me how irresponsible I was. Good thing she wasn't here. I stepped over the threshold and released the cats as Rex closed the door.
"For this," Rex said before taking me into his arms and kissing me.
Oh right. For that. I shouldn't be late for that.
Meeeeeoooooow! Philby protested loudly. We looked down to see her sitting there, like a feline Hitler who was angry with her generals.
Rex picked up the popcorn package and I followed him to the kitchen. I demonstrated my mad cooking skills by popping a bag in the microwave. Three minutes later, we were sitting on the couch, watching some long, historical film with lots of war stuff and men and women pining on the edges of cliffs.
Philby took her usual position between us. After a few minutes, she claimed Rex's lap and curled up, falling asleep. Her kittens, however, were going crazy. What was it about kittens that made them act like rip roaring amphetamine junkies? Two of the kittens, Moneypenny and Bond, were wrestling furiously with each other. I know—it's a cliché to use James Bond names for your pets when you're a spy. At least I didn't go with Pussy Galore.
The third kitten, a little girl who had a black Elvis pompadour, complete with sideburns, was racing back and forth across our laps with no goal in mind. Her name was Martini-Shaken-Not-Stirred. I called her Martini for short.
"Are you ready?" Rex asked halfway into the movie, interrupting my attempt at focusing.
Which was good because I had no idea what was going on. The plot was so twisted you'd need a crowbar to make it straight. And who puts like one hundred characters in a single movie? Madness!
"Um, sure." I was kind of hoping he'd meant Ready to go up to my room? Or Ready for me to make a steak dinner? Or even, Ready to take a nap? Any of those would've been good.
Rex laughed. I liked it when he laughed. "I meant ready for the lock-in?"
I grimaced. "No. I'm not ready. Hey! How about you go in my place?"
"No way. Besides, I think Kelly's right. You need to get to know the parents."
"Traitor," I said just before stuffing a handful of popcorn in my mouth.
"Maybe you'll get lucky," Rex said as he turned back to the TV.
"I doubt it," I mumbled.
"Could be worse," he said.
"How?"
"Your friend Juliette might show up." Rex ducked to avoid the pillow I'd thrown at his head.
Juliette Dowd was the only Girl Scout employee who hated me because I was dating her ex-boyfriend. Rex was right. I'd rather Evelyn Trout showed up.
Actually, I'd rather be chased by mutated Gila monsters across a burning desert. On Mars. While nursing a head cold.
But then, Juliette Dowd might be an improvement over an overnight lock-in with twelve little girls and their mothers.