So Much For Buckingham: The Camilla Randall Mysteries #5 (31 page)

"Libra Rising?" Silas said. "I don't want to hear about it. In the last week I've had enough astrology and New Age woo to last a lifetime."

Plant laughed out loud.

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that." He squeezed Silas's hand.

"I'd like to get my hands on Hinckley Lutterworth meself," Liam said. "He's raking in royalties and we've got to clean up the bloody mess."

Davey's eyebrows glowered. "The bloke's making a fortune off of that book. He might help us out now."

"He will," Pradeep said. "I promise he will—that is, I will. Peter rang me earlier and made me promise to tell you..." He took a deep breath. "I am Hinckley Lutterworth."

"You?" Davey and Liam looked dumfounded.

"You lied to us. All this time?" Liam's voice was harsh.

"I didn't intend to. I used the pen name for sales purposes. Who's going to buy a book on English history written by somebody named Pradeep Balasubramariam? So I took the names of two towns near Leicester, where they'd found Richard's body. It was just random. Then, when the hate mail started, I reckoned it was better to keep the author's identity a secret."

"Does Vera know?" Davey said. His eyebrows still looked dangerous.

"She's the only one. I had to tell her since she pays me."

Liam and Davey looked glum.

Silas tried to stifle a yawn. "Excuse me. I'm on Hawaiian time, so it's midnight for me. I'd better get some coffee. I've been traveling for over twenty-four hours."

"Please feel free to come and nap at our house," Pradeep said. "We have the room. I can't guarantee things will be quiet with the baby..."

"Thanks for the invitation," Silas said. "But we need to get back to London. We have one more night booked at our hotel." He gave Plant a smile. "If you'll come back with me. Maybe we can finally have a honeymoon night...together?"

Plant took Silas's hand, but looked at Pradeep with apprehension.

"Did Sanjay say whether I'm free to leave?"

"You're free as a bird," Pradeep said.

Plant felt the tension melt from his body. He laughed out loud as he threw his arms around Silas.

"Free, but never cheap." He gave Silas a kiss. "Let's go get my passport and luggage out of the nick."

––––––––

I
drove away from the Red Barn with Ronzo beside me and Buckingham in the carrier on the back seat.

The cat had settled down and seemed to be napping. 

Things felt almost all right. For the first time in nearly two weeks.

Except for the fact I had no idea where I was going.

I drove back to Morro Bay on autopilot as I told Ronzo the details of my horrible week—the toxic reviews and the death threats. And how Plant's life fell apart at the same time and now he was stuck in England accused of murder.

I also told him about Peter coming to my rescue and how I hoped he was getting things "sorted" now he was back in Swynsby. I did leave out the money-laundering and the romantic aspect of my relationship to "Mr. Stygar".

Ronzo had been through too much pain to know about that yet.

Of course the fact that Ronzo had dallied with Lady Rufina sort of cancelled out my own infidelity, but still, I didn't want that to mar our reunion.

"I don't get it," Ronzo said. "I thought you said the death threats came from people in England. That Elijah guy didn't sound English."

"Oh, he wasn't the one who wrote the reviews or emailed the first death threats. But he must have copied them. I guess a lot of people re-tweeted the rape stuff. Peter—my Australian friend—said the things people were saying about me were vile and they were everywhere. Elijah would have seen them. He's sort of a computer nerd."

"So he read rape threats and they made him want to rape you for real? And then he set your store on fire—what, to impress the trolls?"

"Oh no. That was because Jen broke up with him. I think it was about shoes, really. Jen loves her shoes and Elijah is a vegan and wants her to wear plastic footwear, and I told her if I was going to choose between a man and my Manolos, I might..."

I stopped myself. That sounded terribly shallow.

"He thought I told her to break up with him. And I guess I did."

Ronzo let out a huge laugh and leaned over to give me a sideways hug.

"I will never stand between you and your shoes, Camilla."

~

I
decided to take Ronzo down to the Embarcadero for some dinner before I decided on a place to stay.

Was it wise to spend the night with him? I wasn't quite sure where I was going to spend the night myself.

Ronzo ate a huge plate of calamari and chips as if he hadn't eaten for a week—which was probably more or less the case—and in between, he told me more about his adventures with Hobo Joe at Lucky and Bucky's camp.

"I met the two of them last time I was here when Joe and Bucky rescued us from Harry the Shark and his boys," Ronzo said. "So when I got those two kittens, I figured I'd name them after Joe's friends. Bad mistake. When I showed up at Joe's campsite with a cat named Bucky, Lucky and Bucky wanted to throw me out on the spot. Seems Lucky is crazy-allergic to cats. Who knew?"

"So you told Joe to bring Buckingham—Bucky—to me?"

"It was Joe's idea. I was going to set out on my own with Bucky, but he said I needed his help to learn the ropes around here. He was right. Being homeless is an art. It takes years to learn this stuff. He knows the right dumpsters, the times restaurants are going to be throwing out food, all that stuff. And he helped me get a library card. I'm using computers at the library to track down Rufina and Rattletrap."

"Can you get them to admit it wasn't you in that awful video? Clear your name?"

He nodded and looked a little sad. "It's gonna take a while. First I have to find them and get them to tell the truth and then I have to repair my online reputation. The last part is going to be the toughest. Unfortunately, in the age of Google, a bad reputation is forever. There are companies in Silicon Valley who specialize in digital reputation management...but they're pricey. They work for starlets who get hit with revenge porn or billionaire pedophiles, not homeless bloggers who got slimed by a crazy band."

I could empathize. I still had some reputation repair to do myself, but I had Sherwood publishing on my side. The enormity of what Ronzo was facing felt bleak. Imagine living for years—even dying—with everybody on the planet thinking you were a monster.

Like Richard III. 530 years later, most people still thought he'd murdered his young nephews.

I reached out and took Ronzo's hand.

"I'll help in any way I can. I'm so sorry I doubted you."

His eyes glinted with tears.

"That's gonna make all the difference, Camilla. If you believe in me, I can get through anything."

I put my arms around him and gave him a deep kiss. He kissed me back. We didn't stop until the waitress came with the check.

~

W
e spent the night in the Budget Motel. It seemed fitting, since that's where we'd spent one of our first romantic nights together. The motel manager was okay with Buckingham if he stayed in the carrier.

I charged my phone overnight. In the morning, I had 15 messages.

I tackled them while Ronzo had another long shower. He said he was never going to take a hot shower for granted again.

Buckingham had been a little noisy in the night, but now he was fast asleep.

I listened to the message from Plant first. I was amazed at his fantastic news. Not only was he free of suspicion in the reenactor's death, but he and Silas were back together. Apparently Silas never had been interested in Glen. The whole catastrophe was caused by some medication Silas had been taking. Plant also had great news from his agent. He'd been asked to work on a new film about Richard III. The agent said the studio couldn't buy the kind of publicity Plant was getting.

There was also a message from Peter. I listened to make sure the water was still running in the shower so Ronzo wouldn't hear it. Not that I expected Peter to say anything inappropriate, but we had left things on a rather romantic note.

"Piotr Stygar here," he said. "I trust Plantagenet and Silas are happily ensconced in their honeymoon suite in London by now. When I picked Silas up at the train station, he was a guilt-ridden wreck. He'd had no idea what Plant had gone through until I rang him in Hawaii. He didn't know about your catastrophes either.

"How are your catastrophes, by the by? You shouldn't be having any more trouble from the Ricardian-Tudor crowd. They have apparently been killing each other off. Plantagenet will explain all. Do ring me in the next day or two. I must leave Blighty soon. Authorities are sniffing around, trying to connect me with the late Mr. Sherwood."

In the next day or two.

After that, Peter would disappear into that semi-criminal world where he'd be incommunicado again. I felt a pang of loss. I did love him, in a funny way. I hoped Ronzo would understand.

Since one formerly dead boyfriend was going to be semi-dead again. I was glad Ronzo was going to stay undead. At least to me.

Most of the other messages were from the detectives and my insurance agent. I'd have to face that stuff later.

Marva left a message saying she was getting lots of new clients thanks to Mr. Stygar.

There was a text from Jen. I hoped she was okay. The poor thing had obviously been through an awful ordeal with Elijah.

It was good news and bad.

"Im ok. Sorry about ur store. But we cant wrk there now. Things R 2 weird. L8er! Jen"

Plant had left a text as well as his voice message. It looked like it was from last night. It just said: "Bald is Beautiful!"

Ronzo came out of the shower, wearing a towel. He actually looked pretty good with no hair.

Plant was right about bald being beautiful. But how did he know I was with a bald guy? Had he become psychic, in spite of his hatred of all things paranormal?

I didn't want to think about it. Some things were better left unexplained.

"Good news?" Ronzo said.

"Good news and bad news. Plant is no longer a suspect and he and Silas are back together and on their way home. The bad news is my staff just quit. I don't blame them. I don't have a store anyway. Who knows how long it will take to repair the damage from the fire? It's going to cost a fortune for a contractor. I hope my insurance will..."

Ronzo put his arms around me. "I happen to know a guy who's looking for a job. He works cheap. He doesn't know a lot about books, but he's worked retail and he's real handy with tools."

I pulled him back down on the bed.

"You're hired, Mr. Zolek," I said, rubbing my hand over his bald head. "You can work for me as long as it takes to clear your name."

Buckingham let out a loud meow as if he agreed, too.

Ronzo pulled open the curtain to look out at the view of the bay, where the sun shone high in the mid-morning sky. Not a trace of fog.

"Best of all, I'll be here with you, Camilla. In sunny California."

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A
nne R. Allen is a popular blogger and the author of the hilarious Camilla Randall Mysteries as well as the comic novels 
Food of Love, The Gatsby Game,
 and 
The Lady of the Lakewood Diner
. She's also the co-author, with Catherine Ryan Hyde, of the writer's guide HOW TO BE A WRITER IN THE E-AGE.

Anne is a graduate of Bryn Mawr College and now lives on the Central Coast of California near San Luis Obispo, the town Oprah called "the happiest town in America."

She loves to hear from her readers! Contact her at
[email protected]
 

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T
HE CAMILLA RANDALL MYSTERIES
: Chick Lit Noir— Snarky, delicious fun! These books are a laugh-out-loud mashup of romantic comedy, crime fiction, and satire. Think Bridget Jones meets Miss Marple. The first three Camilla books are available in a convenient boxed set.

#1 GHOSTWRITERS IN THE SKY:
  After her celebrity ex-husband’s ironic joke about her "kinky sex habits" is misquoted in a tabloid, New York etiquette columnist Camilla Randall’s life unravels in bad late night TV jokes. Nearly broke and down to her last Hermes scarf, she accepts an invitation to a Z-list Writers’ Conference in the wine-and-cowboy town of Santa Ynez, California, where, unfortunately, a cross-dressing dominatrix named Marva plies her trade by impersonating Camilla. When a ghostwriter’s plot to blackmail celebrities with faked evidence leads to murder, Camilla must team up with Marva to stop the killer from striking again.

#2 SHERWOOD, LTD:
 Suddenly-homeless American manners expert Camilla Randall becomes a 21st century Maid Marian—living rough near the real Sherwood Forest with a band of outlaw English erotica publishers—led by a charming, self-styled Robin Hood who unfortunately may intend to kill her.

#3 THE BEST REVENGE
(the prequel): Read how it all began. In the glitzy 1980s, a teenaged Camilla loses everything: fortune, love, and eventually even her freedom when a TV star's murder is mistakenly laid at her feet. Through it all, she perseveres, and comes to learn that she is made of sterner stuff than anyone might have imagined, herself included.

#4 NO PLACE LIKE HOME:
Doria Windsor, the uber-rich editor of 
Home
 decorating magazine loses everything, including her Ponzi-schemer husband, when their luxury wine-country home mysteriously goes up in flames. Homeless, destitute, presumed dead and branded a criminal, 59-yr-old Doria has a crash course in reality...and a second chance at love.