Ch. 24 | The Toast of Tyrants

Vesna, David, and Ernesto were in the office. It had been a minute since anyone had uttered a word. Today’s events were so big, none of them knew how to process.

Vesna stood at her desk, stunned and speechless. The detectives had just left her office, informing her of yet another murder—this time on the premises. What the hell is going on, she thought. She was finally getting public sentiment on her side. This would surely cause problems with the owners. Violations and HOA perks were one thing. Having a murderer on the loose? Whole different issue.

“This is crazy,” Ernesto said, breaking the silence.

David and Vesna exchanged nervous glances, making the groundskeeper feel like an outsider.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Vesna retorted, visibly annoyed.

Ernesto winced. He wouldn’t say it aloud, but Vesna scared him. That fear wasn’t misplaced. He’d known what she was capable of since their San Diego days. Sure, he worked that knowledge to his advantage, but he also knew he was a liability on her metaphorical spreadsheet.

“He’s not wrong, Ves,” David chimed in, attempting to mediate. He hated conflict.

Vesna sighed and began pacing the office. What to do, what to do, she brooded. The office phones were lighting up like a telethon. She ignored them.

I can’t look weak, she thought. Especially not in front of these two buffoons. Ernesto was a greasy snake, always wheeling and dealing for brownie points with the richest homeowners. He’d sell his own mother into slavery for a crumb of prestige. David was a loyal lap dog, but the man didn’t have two brain cells to rub together. For daily schemes? Perfect. For murder fallout? About as helpful as a herpes.

“Look, gentlemen,” she said diplomatically, smoothing her hair. “This is a setback, sure. But we can get through this. David, get in touch with A&M PR group. This might hit the news, and we need to be ready.”

David nodded and picked up the phone.

“Ernesto,” she turned. “Work your magic. Charm the residents. Offer free maintenance, whatever they need. I’ll find the money. Hire extra help if you have to—just get it done.”

He nodded and exited quickly.

Vesna sighed. Nodding to herself, she felt a little sense of control—real or not. Then she thought about the budget, and that made her chuckle. The HOA treasury may as well have been her personal bank account. A few red bottoms here, a spa day there—no one was the wiser. Between her brother and Ernesto’s shady dealings, the maintenance got done for cheap and still looked quality.

But these murders? They were bad for business. The last thing she needed was the media sniffing around. She needed to get ahead of this. Control the narrative. If she didn’t, she’d have to get her hands dirty in a more permanent way. And she wasn’t above it.

“You’re booked to speak with Sophie from A&M,” David said, pulling her back.

“Oh, good,” Vesna replied, still mentally spinning.

“I reserved a table for you at Number Six.”

“Great. Thank you, David.”

“Anything else I can do?”

“Yes. Have fruit baskets sent to residents. Write up a condolences card—make it sound like we’re all in this together. We want to look united. Concerned.”

David began scribbling down her instructions.

Vesna turned toward the window. If I can keep up the appearance of empathy and efficiency, there’s a way out of this.

Then, a realization hit.

Jerry was gone.

Jerry—her biggest obstacle, her loudest critic—was out of the picture. How did she miss that silver lining? Her lips curled into a grin. Oh goody, she thought. A blessing in the madness.

“David, do we still have champagne in the fridge?”

“Uh, yeah, Ves,” he answered, confused.

“Let’s pop it. We’re cheering to our reign,” she said, heading for the fridge.

David handed her two flutes. Vesna popped the cork.

The bubbles flowed. The mask of concern cracked into full-blown glee.

“To power,” she said, raising her glass. “And to the poor souls who had to die for it.”

Clink.

The toast of tyrants. A celebration of survival. And nobody suspected a thing.