Eyeliner & Alibis: A romantic, cozy mystery: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 3 Read online

  I held the stone in my hand and, this time, I felt absolutely nothing. After sitting in my truck for five minutes playing with the rock, I still had no answers. Instead of feeling calm or renewed, I was frustrated. Blocked, as Izzy would put it.

  I decided to do things more my way and simply reached out to my nana to give me a hand. My nana was the best guardian angel I could ever ask for. She found little ways to always let me know she was there, like the ever-present ladybug that always seemed to land on my shoulder, the smell of her rose perfume on a Sunday morning, or every time I looked at the clock and saw that the minute hand was at twenty-seven. Always twenty-seven, the age I was when she left me, but she would always remain in my heart. I thought love was a much more powerful connection than a crystal, and I used that love to talk to my grandma every day.

  So, that’s exactly what I did. I talked to my grandma and asked her what I could do. I probably should have done more listening than talking, but I let it all spill out. I found myself asking my grandma not only what I should do and where Finn was, but also if he was even worth my time of trying to track him down. All I got in return was an overwhelming feeling of love, and I had trouble determining if she was saying how much she loved me or if she was referring to how much I had loved Finn. Notice I said had because, at that moment, I wasn’t feeling very amorous. Murderous was more like it. Where was a medium when you needed one?

  I pulled out of the parking lot and decided to do this old-school style, driving by the various marinas to see if I spotted him.

  An hour later, I was beyond frustrated. I needed to start coming up with a better plan. Do you know how many marinas there are in the Tampa Bay area? It’s a bit ridiculous. I wasn’t going to give up though. I looked over at my phone and had an epiphany. Finn’s phone might have been turned off, but I’d guarantee he still had it on him. We recently had signed up to share a plan with our wireless provider (see, I told you I was better in the commitment department!) and as a result, our phones were synched. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it sooner. All I had to do was log in to the “Find My Phone” app and BAM! There he was. “Gotcha.” Finn’s flashing blue orb was awfully close to mine. I zoomed and read “Bayshore Marina.” He was not more than a mile away.

  I spotted his truck before I saw him. I always did like his truck. It was such a man ride with its super-sized wheels, all-leather interior, and kicking sound system. I flipped down the sun visor of my pickup and checked my makeup in the mirror. Oh no, this would not do. I took a second to freshen up my lipstick and popped a chocolate kiss in my mouth for added measure. The chocolate melted and sent liquid courage to my tummy, giving the butterflies something to snack on.

  “Okay, let’s do this.”

  I was halfway down the front boardwalk when I saw him, bare chested, straddling a cooler, and it wouldn’t be right if he didn’t have a can of Coke in his hand. Hey, I didn’t mind as long as he drank it shirtless. This was one vice of his I could live with. But then I remembered, he was the one who couldn’t live with me, for whatever reason, and I wanted to cry. I swallowed my insecurities and thought maybe I had it all wrong, maybe we just needed to talk. (I’ve been told that I’m prone to over-reacting.) I thought maybe that was it, and I was suddenly excited to see Finn. That is, until I saw them—the girls, wearing skimpy bikinis with their long lush locks blowing in the wind.

  One by one the girls paraded up from down below the boat’s galley, like beauty pageant contestants in a swimsuit competition. My stomach dropped. Finn stood up as if he had been waiting for them, four of them in total, as they crowded around him and another guy, who I assumed was the infamous Kevin. He was shirtless as well, but I no longer found either one of the men attractive.

  A man wearing salmon-colored shorts and a white button down stepped on the boat and began positioning the women. He had an impressive-looking camera strapped across his shoulder and started snapping away. It took my mind a minute to catch up. This was obviously a photoshoot of some sort, but I didn’t care what it was for. I didn’t like the fact that there were girls all over the guy I still considered mine, even if his feelings weren’t the same for me.

  I turned and hightailed it off the docks, not wanting him to see me in that state, tears in my eyes and anger bubbling up in my throat. I stifled my emotions and found it much easier to just be angry. Here I had been trying to get ahold of him and give him the benefit of the doubt, while he had turned off his phone so he could prance around shirtless with a bunch of supermodels. What a jerk. I glanced behind my shoulder and shot him the evil eye. He never saw me, but at that moment, he lost his footing and hit the deck. I smirked and cast my eyes upward. “Thanks, Nana. I owe you one.”

  13

  Izzy called me right when I was in the middle of some nasty gridlock traffic and in the throes of road rage. There’s nothing worse than wanting to floor the gas pedal only to end up stuck, puttering along at less than five miles per hour.

  “What?” I snapped into the phone before I could collect myself. “Sorry, girl, I meant to say hello.”

  “Aha, I see Mercury’s still not doing you any favors with your communication skills.” I let my manager have that one.

  “You have no idea, or maybe you do, being you and all that, but I don’t want to go there right now. What do you have for me?”

  “Definitely something to cheer you up. I just got off the phone with the Lavish spa manager and they loved the samples we sent them. And… They want you to come to New York next week.”

  This was big. Bigger than big. Huge. Lavish did billions of dollars in sales every single year. Billions. I couldn’t fathom what this could do for my company, let alone my pocketbook. “You told him yes, right?!” Make that absolutely freaking yes.

  “Your flight leaves Friday at 6:55 A.M.” I didn’t even care that she had booked me on a flight at the crack of dawn.

  “Sweet.” I bubbled over inside, and it came through in my voice.

  “And that’s not all. You know Poppy Harlow?”

  I was pretty sure everyone knew Poppy Harlow. She was an A-list starlet of the moment, packing the seats for the summer blockbuster and walking the red carpet at every event.

  “Her rep called, and she loves it.”

  I had written off Izzy’s suggestion to send out free samples to all the celebrity representatives she could track down, thinking our marketing dollars could be better invested elsewhere, but Izzy had been right, or it looked as if she would be. I was speechless, as in holding-the-phone, staring-at-the-screen speechless. It was probably a good thing that I was stuck in traffic at that moment, because I couldn’t even focus to speak, let alone drive.

  “You there, love?”

  “Yeah, sorry just, oh my goodness.”

  “The best is yet to come. What did I tell you? I told you your little shop here was just the beginning.”

  She had. The day I hired Izzy, she walked into my store and shared a vision with me that I hadn’t even been able to admit to myself. Her passion and enthusiasm for Sugar & Sass was almost as great as mine.

  “Listen, I’m going to forward the email exchange between the Lavish’s manager and me for you to check out. If you want to talk strategy for your meeting next week, or if you need me to do anything else, let me know.”

  “Yeah, I’ll read it right away, and I definitely want to talk strategy with you. Just give me a little bit, I’m in my car right now, and I’ll call you back later.”

  “Sounds lovely. You know where to find me.”

  With that she clicked off and my day seemed so much brighter. My love life may have been in the toilet, but my business was soaring.

  I didn’t go straight back to the hotel but instead pulled over in a mall parking lot. My emotions were flying off into all different directions and, honestly, I wasn’t sure which way I wanted to run.

  So, I threw myself into my work. I had been toying with the idea of adding a perfume line to my product offering, and there was n
othing like a little holistic homework to help settle my thoughts. I used my phone to locate a nearby wellness store and pointed my car in that direction.

  When I walked into the store, I was instantly struck by the electric charge all around. I swear, even the hair on my arms was standing up and I was as energized as if I had slammed a venti chai latte. Talk about a caffeine rush. The front of the store had several round tables draped in white tablecloths, with little glass bowls set about, full of rocks and crystals. I had no idea so many specialty stones existed. I walked around looking at the ones that caught my fancy—the pink ones, of course—and read their descriptions. Some promised mental clarity, increased wealth, or other calming properties.

  I skipped reading the rest of the descriptions as I was suddenly drawn to the beaded jewelry on the wall. For an instant, I forgot why I came to the store in the first place. The chipped crystal bracelets were gorgeous. I fingered the rose quartz one and, at only five dollars, I knew I would be taking it home with me. In fact, a couple others called my name and I knew they would make a gorgeous collage on my wrist. I finally looked over at the essential oils display and remembered my mission.

  An hour later, I had shopping bags full of more oils than I would’ve ever needed, and a determination to create something awesome. The wellness store turned out to be just what I needed, even though it wasn’t quite the retail therapy I’d had in mind. Irene, the shop’s owner, was a lovely woman who knew more about oils and holistic healing than I thought possible. She and Izzy could’ve been BFFs.

  “Your aura—” she started with.

  “—is all murky. I know. I’m working on it.”

  “I have a crystal that can help with that.”

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the smooth, pink stone. Irene stopped mid-track. “One of my good friends is sort of my spiritual guru.”

  “She’s a good friend to have then.”

  “That she is.”

  “Good luck. I’d love to see what you come up with.”

  “Thanks so much. I’ll have to stop in again.”

  I left the wellness store revived and ready to get to work.

  I dumped my goodies out on the feather-down duvet and pulled the coffee table over, setting up a work station. Irene also stocked roller bottles, so I was literally ready to roll.

  When it comes to designing perfume, it seems simple at first—mix your carrier oil, some alcohol, a splash of water, and your scents—until you consider all the variations. There are half a dozen carrier oils at least, and essential oils? Irene had at least eighty. I decided to try almond oil as my carrier. I had previously been toying with a romantic blend of rose, pink grapefruit, and vetiver, but my heart just wasn’t into it. Besides, the rose oil kept making me sneeze. Instead, I decided to go with two different scents: one that was bright and fresh with grapefruit, juniper, and ginger; and another that was sweet and sensuous with sweet orange, sandalwood, and ylang ylang. I also picked up some lavender, chamomile, and vanilla because I needed a little relaxation blend right about then.

  Much like an artist blends pigments to create the perfect shade of paint, I planned to blend scents to create a signature fragrance. And just like an artist applies paint in layers, that is also how perfume is created, with each layer represented by a note—top note, middle note, and base note. The notes represented the order in which they are recognized by the human senses. Top notes are the lightest of all, and the one recognized immediately when applying the fragrance. As the top notes fade, the middle notes make their appearance, lasting the longest in creating the heart of the fragrance, which is what they’re sometimes called. And finally, the base notes take over, creating the lasting impression that lingers all day.

  Right now, my base note was all wrong. All I was getting was a heavy dose of juniper, which was not very appealing. My life stunk in all sorts of ways at that moment.

  14

  A knock on the door snapped me out of my moment of Zen. If Finn had somehow tracked me down, I wasn’t sure I wanted to speak with him; at least, not in that moment. I looked out the peep hole of my hotel door and saw Detective Blackwell’s eagle eye staring back at me.

  “Ms. Diaz?”

  I didn’t have to answer the door and I knew I was within my rights to not speak to the woman, but I had a feeling that would only make matters worse and cause me to look guilty. I had nothing to hide and the quicker I talked to the woman, the sooner I could get back to work.

  I swung the door open. “Detective, how lovely to see you,” I said, the sarcasm thick in my voice. The detective entered my room, even though she hadn’t been invited, and surveyed the supplies. I could only imagine what all the little vials must have looked like to her, but she didn’t comment.

  “Do I need a lawyer?” I straight up asked the woman. I was starting to feel like I should’ve gotten one the first go around.

  Detective Blackwell shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, do you?”

  Touché.

  I then thought of something the detective might want to know, and might have her backing off me a bit. “Not sure if you heard, but Sterling and Marissa were having an affair.”

  The detective’s eyebrows shot up, but she tried to play it casual. “I’m sorry, but I don’t buy that tabloid trash,” she shot back, dismissing my tip.

  “Um, I’m pretty sure it’s common knowledge. Just ask anyone at DSC. I just thought you might want to look into it.”

  “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job?”

  Oh brother.

  I turned my back to the detective and walked over to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water. The detective took it as an opening to begin her questioning. “Have you ever had any cosmetic procedures done?”

  The question stopped me mid-water bottle to my mouth. I wondered if the detective knew that I made a doctor’s appointment for the next morning. But, how could she, unless she bugged my phone?! Or, maybe she had a mole removed at Dr. Stewart’s office? “I have no idea where you’re going with this, but no, I haven’t. If you know much about me and my company, you would know that I prefer more natural beauty remedies.”

  “Not even Botox?”

  “Botox? Yeah, no.” I left it at that. Truth be told, I knew I had my nana’s good genes to thank for my smooth face and even skin tone, rather than any cream or lotion.

  “It would be fitting for a beauty consultant to plump up her face, make her products appear more effective, don’t you think?”

  If looks could kill, the detective would’ve dropped dead right there as I shot daggers at her. She picked up right away that she’d offered me the worst insult possible.

  “Heard you left town. Something got you a little … on edge?”

  “Work emergency back home. You know I’m not from here, right?”

  “But you rented a car.”

  “Because Finn had business here.” Detective Blackwell stared at me, as if looking for any cracks in my complexion, or my story.

  “Is there anything else?” I asked, sending her subliminal messages to leave. She didn’t seem to get them.

  “Nice hotel room you have here.”

  I looked around the room. “Yeah, I like it.” I wasn’t sure that my senses were renewed as the hotel had promised, but if I ever finished this fragrance, maybe they would be.

  “Why the change?”

  “Better room service.” Or so I had heard.

  “You’re staying alone.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Did your boyfriend break up with you, or has he suddenly gone missing?” Detective Blackwell used air quotes around the last word. “Should we send out a search party or just bring you in for questioning?”

  “What?”

  “Got a little taste of blood and now you just can’t stop, or is it another woman? Yeah, I can see that right from the look on your face. He’s tossed you out and has already hooked up with someone else. Is she a blonde?” The detective had slow
ly encroached on my personal space until she was inches from my face. Her flaky black eyeliner and clumpy eyelashes stared at me, daring me to fight back.

  Her plan had almost worked. The woman had my blood boiling and I was about to let her have it, but then I took a step back and laughed. I seriously laughed in the woman’s face.

  “Oh my gosh, that’s it. You’ve got nothing on me, so you’re trying to set me off. See if you can trip me up. You know what? I feel sorry for Marissa’s and Sterling’s families. They deserve a better detective on this case.”

  It was Detective Blackwell’s turn to get angry. “You little brat.”

  “Well, that’s professional of you.”

  “I’ll have you know—”

  “—No, I’ll have you know that we’re through. It’s time for you to leave, and next time you feel like stopping by … don’t. You can call my lawyer.” I walked over to the door and held it open, giving her a little smile as she stormed out. I was one hundred percent done being nice.

  It had taken me longer than I wanted to admit to calm down after Detective Blackwell’s little visit. I had to remind myself more than once that she was the inept one and was clueless when it came to my relationship with Finn, but damn her, she put the idea in my head that Finn was seeing someone else and I couldn’t let it go. I inhaled enough lavender after she left that I should’ve been comatose, but I was still a little edgy while getting ready to meet Cee Cee. Hopefully that tête-à-tête would be more productive.