The Cactus Club Killings (Joe Portugal) - Plot & Excerpts
Terrestrial orchids and exotic ground covers carpeted the surface below. The walkway opened up into a picturesque clearing. Topiary animals cavorted off to my left; on the right a terraced garden of azaleas and miniature bamboo worked its way back up the hill. Birds twittered, and dappled sunlight danced on the ground. I’d been at Final Haven two minutes and already I wanted to be buried there too. A stone building with the near end open stood in the center of the clearing. Abstract paintings and exotic sculptures lay within. Wooden pews faced a simple altar, in front of which a plain wood casket rested. I sidled off behind an acacia and situated myself where I could see who was coming or going. Coming, more likely; the only one going was Brenda. Rowena Small got there soon after I did and grabbed a seat in the front row. Five minutes later Eugene Rand showed up, wearing a black suit jacket and old chinos and the worst-tied tie I’d ever seen. He looked right at me but didn’t or wouldn’t recognize me and took a spot halfway back on the right.
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