This is the first chapter of Mid-Century Menace, the second book in the Mid-Century series. It contain spoilers to Mid-Century Melee, the first book of the series.

The Bastard

Palm Springs, March 17, 2020

The killer maintained pressure on the pillow covering Robert’s face, unaware the bastard’s movement had stopped.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit . . .” The killer prayed with an absence of contrition.

Lea entered the bedroom doorway. “He looks dead. You can stop.”

Spring sunbeams filled the room as the killer continued reciting the prayer in a trancelike cadence.

“Amen y adios, the bastard,” came the voice of Leandra from behind Lea.

“Mama!” Lea said.

Leandra pushed past her daughter, Lea, to enter the bed-room. “He treated us both like cheap servants. Nothing but a menace. If not for his grandkids, you’d have quit years ago.”

“Mama, basta!” Lea replied.

The killer stayed motionless as Leandra eased the pillow from a loosening grip.

“He’s really dead,” Leandra said with encouragement. “You don’t need to worry anymore.”

The pillow fell to the side, exposing Robert’s face, which gazed at the ceiling with his disappointed expression.

“Excuse me.” Leandra tried to close his eyes but the lids remained open. “Always that same look.”

“What?” the killer responded. “Leandra, Lea, I—”

Lea’s voice grew firm. “You need to leave. Go to the main house and take a shower. No one is on the property. Go with my mother, now. Mama, take the pillowcase and add to the wash.”

“Police?” A whisper came out.

“No police will be here until we call.” Leandra pulled the killer away from Robert’s body and out the bedroom door. “Besides, they’re too busy, even for Mr. Robert.”

Alone in the casita, Lea pulled out her phone and hit play to Marc Anthony’s “Vivir Mi Vida.” She connected the song to the house speakers instead of the typical streaming to her headset as she sang along to the lyrics about laughing, dancing, living one’s life in the moment, and looking to the future.

Lea put a new case on the pillow and dropped it to the floor of where one of the richest entrepreneurs in Palm Springs lay dead. His wealth influenced industry decisions and protected him from accountability for his actions. This same wealth failed to protect him in his own home, in his bedroom, the room being wiped down meticulously by the house cleaner he had paid for years.

Lea’s singing continued as she cleaned the room, taking occasional glances at the gapping mouth of her former boss, who finally had nothing to say.

“Still dead?” Leandra reentered the bedroom. “He looks worse.”

“Mama. You need to stop.” Lea laughed.

“Baby, turn up the volume.” Leandra began to dance. “You know the saints and angels aren’t circling to claim him.” She grabbed her daughter and spun her around the room.