Eyeliner & Alibis Read online

  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.

  With my stomach in knots, I took a bit more time than usual to get ready, or maybe I wanted to prove to myself that I still had it, you know, sex appeal. I put spiral curls in my long chocolate locks, busted out my gold eyeliner and bronze eyeshadows, and finished off the look with the nude lipstick. I smacked my lips together and took a step back to look in the mirror, turning my head from side to side. Oh yeah, I still had it.

  Dockside was a small seaside waterfront bar not too far from my hotel. I could’ve easily walked the distance to the canals, but not with the heels I had chosen to wear. I had planned on wearing this romper and cork heel outfit for Finn, but yeah, whatever.

  Cee Cee pulled in the parking lot right after me and we parked next to one another. Although she didn’t know me yet, I recognized her right away and greeted her when she opened the door.

  “Cee Cee? Hi, I’m Ziva Diaz.”

  “Thanks so much for reaching out. I think we’ll have lots to talk about.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping anyway.” We took a table out back on the deck in the front corner, overlooking the calm waters. The restaurant wasn’t a dive bar, but it wasn’t anything fancy either. It definitely wasn’t the type of place I’d expect to find Cee Cee Williams, and that’s what made it the perfect location to meet up.

  We took a few moments for small chat while waiting for drinks to arrive, to get a feel for one another. Cee Cee was from out west, a California girl who didn’t care where she was as long as the ocean was nearby. I could one hundred percent relate to that. Well, maybe ninety percent. If I kept finding dead bodies by the ocean, I planned to move to the desert.

  We switched to talking about the case when our cocktails were set in front of us.

  “So, the Marissa affair,” Cee Cee began.

  “Is that what they’re calling it now?”

  “It’s catchy. So, you were telling me that you had some information.”

  “Here’s what I know, just from snooping around and finding the bodies. One, Marissa didn’t put up a fight. Two, a lot of people couldn’t stand her.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Tell me more.”

  I filled Cee Cee in on what I had learned from Claire, Tess, and Mr. Aldrich and how Marissa looked when I found her. I skipped over the private conversation between Mr. Aldrich and Sterling. I didn’t need that to be breaking news on Entertainment Now.

  “So, you see, it seems like everyone who had a motive to kill her was at the gala Friday night. Well, everyone except for her husband.”

  “Oh no, he was there.”

  “What? He was?”

  “Not as a guest, but witnesses placed him in the parking lot that evening.”

  “Shut up!” Could there possibly have been any more evidence stacked against the guy? Why Detective Blackwell was still wasting her time with me was completely beyond me.

  “And Marissa’s time of death?” I was hoping that Cee Cee had an answer to that question.

  “Around 6:45 P.M. That’s what my sources tell me.”

  “So, right as the gala was kicking off.” Any one of the guests could have killed her. It was like a game of Clue, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “It’s her husband though, I’m telling you.”

  “You sound confident.” I had my reasons for suspecting him, but I was curious to hear hers.

  “His wife’s leaving him. He’s embarrassed. He’s going to be out a ton of money, which angers him. Then he sees his wife all glammed up, walking the red carpet? SNAP. He goes ballistic and kills her.”

  I could easily see the picture Cee Cee had painted.

  “I’m meeting him tomorrow.”

  “You’re what?” She almost choked on her drink.

  “I have an appointment with Dr. Stewart in the morning. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “You’re crazy, and I’m totally jealous I didn’t think to do that. Of course, I wouldn’t have been able to pull it off, but I would have had fun trying.”

  “I’ll keep you posted.” I smiled and sipped my drink.

  She returned the smirk. “Yes, please do.”

  15

  The next morning, my knees were bouncing so hard it made the keys in the ignition jingle. My emotions were all over the place. I reminded myself that this was an interview, whether the doctor realized it or not. The plastic surgery appointment was just my cover. If I thought of it like that and nothing more, then it was a role I would be able to play.

  When I walked in the office, I heard a needle scratching across a spinning record inside my head. Hold up. Rewind. What is this place? I had to stop myself from stepping back outside and rereading the sign to make sure I was at the right spot. Talk about a Zen-like atmosphere. I wasn’t sure if I was there to get a massage or talk about breast augmentation. Maybe they offered both?

  From the slate-tiled floors and white high-pile rugs, to the gray suede backless couches and the white potted cymbidium orchid on the accent table, the place screamed high-end. Even the receptionist desk, with its dark wood frame and pearl inlay, was impressive. I wanted to hate the place, but it appealed to my love of aesthetics and I found myself taking mental design notes. I liked to think that I worked with people’s natural beauty. Dr. Stewart took that to a whole new level, but maybe there was room for both of us in this business. After all, I was all about making women love the way they look. I had a feeling Dr. Stewart was too.

  After accepting a cool glass of lemon water, I was whisked back to a comfortable office space. The first part of my appointment was a short meeting with Dr. Stewart’s assistant, Katie. She gave me a rundown of how the appointment would go, and I found myself second guessing my cover when it came to the agenda.

  “Don’t be nervous. Dr. S. is awesome. You’re going to love him,” she said, handing me a thick cotton robe to put on. “It opens in the front.”

  I offered her a weak smile and accepted the robe. I should’ve just asked the man to meet me for coffee. That’s what a sane person would do, I thought while taking my top off. I blamed all of this on Finn. If he hadn’t turned my world upside down, I would have been thinking more clearly. I was just about to get up and walk out when a decent-looking, silver-haired man wearing black scrubs and a megawatt smile walked in.

  “Hi, Ziva. I’m Dr. Stewart. How are you?” He had a sense of calm about him that instantly made me relax. I accepted his warm handshake and found myself smiling in return. His assistant, Katie, rejoined us as well.

  “So, Katie here tells me that you’re interested in a breast augmentation.” I nodded my head as if that were the truth. I mean, I guess it could be. You could definitely say that my Puerto Rican genes had only impacted one asset and that was of the bootylicious variety.

  “How long have you been thinking about this?” Um, since yesterday? Okay, that wasn’t what I said. “For quite a while. I’m not sure exactly, but I have never been gifted up-top, if you know what I mean.”

  The doctor went on to talk to me about what my goals and expectations were, providing implant opt
ions and pros and cons of each along the way. Katie handed me a silicon implant to check out and I blushed when I realized I’d had a bit too much fun playing with the sucker. It was like a soft, squishy stress ball, or one of those water weenies I used to play with when I was a kid.

  I was having a good time until the doctor said, “Okay, let’s have a look.” The next thing I knew, I was getting a breast exam, complete with a measuring tape and comments about my breast fold. What is a breast fold?

  Katie then led me into another room to have some digital images taken. Striking a pose topless was not how I planned on this appointment going. I needed to find a way to take charge if I was going to ask any questions.

  Ten minutes later, I was back in the consultation room, waiting for the doctor to rejoin us, and formulating my plan for questioning, when Dr. Stewart walked in with another implant in hand. Within a few seconds, the doctor had brought up my images on an impressive flat-screen computer monitor. Looking at my pictures, I concluded I was a little more flat-chested than I’d realized. Or maybe the enhanced images next to it gave that impression. Either way, it was a sight to behold.

  Without warning, a woman flung the door open and barged right into the room. I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d kicked the door in. I jumped out of the chair, my eyes darting around for a place to hide, forgetting the fact that my breasts were practically on a Jumbotron for all to see. That was beside the point. This woman had crazy in her eyes.

  “You!” She thrusted her finger out at Dr. Stewart. I was slightly relieved to see her take out her anger on him, and even more so when I realized she didn’t have a weapon. “I trusted you, and you did this. You took Sterling away from me.”

  “Mary Jane, calm down. I know you’re angry, I know you’re hurt, so am I. I lost my wife too.”

  “You murdered her! Both of them! Don’t try to act innocent. You will pay for this. I promise on my husband’s grave, I will make you pay.” The woman stormed out just as abruptly as she had entered the room, leaving Dr. Stewart completely deflated and me slightly bewildered. I replayed the conversation in my head and realized that the woman, Mary Jane, was Sterling’s wife. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for all the screaming and yelling, I would’ve said that the woman was beautiful. She definitely had a fiery spirit. Mary Jane looked much younger than I would’ve expected to be married to a guy like Sterling. The man was, after all, in his sixties and I thought he had been married for thirty years.

  Dr. Stewart started to apologize once he found his manners, but I couldn’t continue the charade. I quickly retrieved my purse off the hook and was planning on leaving when instead I blurted out, “I have a confession. I wasn’t really here about a breast augmentation. In fact, I’m the one who found your wife’s body and, honestly, I wanted to ask you a couple of questions.”

  “You what?” Dr. Stewart replied, but I knew he was following along, so I kept talking.

  “I was hoping for a chance to talk with you to see if you could point me in the right direction. The detective on the case has been breathing down my neck, and she’s a complete idiot.”

  Dr. Stewart just stared at me. I thought for a minute that he was going to kick me out. I could tell the man didn’t like the fact that I had lied to him, but he was smart and quickly realized that I could be an ally.

  “I’m sorry, this is all just a bit much. You say that you found Marissa’s body?” he said.

  “I did. I was her last guest on Friday’s show. I went back on-set to retrieve my cell phone when I came across her.”

  Dr. Stewart slowly nodded his head once to confirm that he understood.

  “And the detective has you pegged for the murder?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know what the detective’s problem is. Yes, I did find your wife’s body; and yes, my interview with her on Friday didn’t go so well; but that’s the extent to which I knew her. Well, that and I also found Sterling’s body on the beach.” This time, the doctor cocked his head as if to say, “You what?” I took a deep breath and channeled my courage to continue, “I know, trust me. I really could’ve done without finding another dead body.”

  “Don’t feel bad. They’re not just looking at you. Here, why don’t you follow me into my office and we can continue this conversation.” I followed the doctor down the hall while he assured his staff that everything was all right. Apparently, Mary Jane had said some choice words to the receptionist, and the patients as well. It seemed a bit of damage control was in order. No one liked the thought of a murderer operating on them.

  I checked out his office while he settled the staff. Just like him, his office was warm and inviting. He had medical degrees and certifications framed, along with pictures of him and Marissa and two adorable corgi pups. In fact, the small-framed print on his desk was of the two of them on a beach somewhere—Marissa smiling radiantly into the camera, wearing a red bikini and floppy straw hat. A gorgeous diamond pendant hung between her breasts, glinting in the sun. Dr. Stewart smiled down at her, totally in love. My heart broke for the man. I continued to scan the room. The walls had been painted the softest gray-blue, almost the same color as the doctor’s eyes, which looked full of despair when I looked up at him as he entered the room. The confident man with the megawatt smile seemed to deflate. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, motioning toward the outside of his office. “Everyone is going to find out soon enough. Like I said, the police have already been to my house. I even let them search it, which my lawyer is furious about. I knew I shouldn’t have let them, but I was just numb. Still am. I just wasn’t expecting all of this. I know what’s coming. The media, they’ve already started.” I knew what the doctor was referring to. The story had quickly gained steam, making the jump from tabloid to prime-time. “They’re already starting to speculate that it was me, bringing other experts in to discuss my motives, means, mental status. The detective already laid it out for me.”

  “I’m sure she did.”

  “But she’s right. The divorce would’ve been pricey. She was murdered and then her boyfriend was murdered. To top it off, we had a fight right in the middle of the lobby at DSC the day before.”

  “Tell me you at least have a good alibi.” I knew Cee Cee said he was spotted in the parking lot, but I didn’t want to believe it.

  “Sitting at home reading about anaplastic large-cell lymphoma? Not hardly.”

  I winced. I could admit that I could see where they would be coming from. As selfish as it sounds, I was partially relieved to see him take some of the pressure off me. That didn’t let me off the hook, though, not when I saw how crushed he was.

  “Marissa had just told me about the affair. I knew we had problems, but I didn’t think they were that bad. Stupid of me to blow up with her at work, but I just had to talk to her and she wasn’t returning my calls. She knew I didn’t want to give her a divorce. Said I was being selfish. She was the one being selfish.”

  “How do you mean, exactly?”

  The doctor stood up and paced the room, running his fingers through his hair. “She had grand visions of her and Sterling running the daytime network, being an inseparable and unstoppable power couple. Personally, I liked it better when she was the traffic reporter for TV 10.” I must’ve raised my eyebrows because Dr. Stewart explained, “Not like that. I was happy for her success, but I liked it more before it went to her head. And her parents? They’ve always hated me. I was never good enough for their princess. I’m a frickin’ plastic surgeon! But no, they’ve already accused me and, with their money, they’ll make sure everyone believes I’m at fault.”

  “I’m so sorry, Dr. Stewart. I want you to know that I’m going to do whatever I can to help bring closure for you and Mary Jane.”

  “It’s Brad, just Brad. Don’t worry about calling me Dr. Stewart. I’m going to do whatever I can too, but I’m not quite sure what that is right now. My lawyers have my actions and comments pretty much scripted at the moment, and I’m letting them do their thing. There’s
too much at stake and I hate the fact that I’m boxed in here while the killer is roaming about scot-free.”

  “Hopefully not for long.”

  Brad nodded, but I had a feeling he didn’t believe me.

  “Hey, here’s my cell phone number.” I handed Brad my business card out of my purse. “Call me if you think of anything, or if you just want to talk.” I had a feeling Brad’s social circle was about to get really small. “Maybe I can bring takeout over or something.”

  “Sounds great, just make sure it’s not Thai.”

  I cocked my head, not following. “Got something against a little heat?” Personally, Taiwanese chili peppers were a favorite of mine.

  “Ah, no. It’s the nuts. I have a peanut allergy.”

  “Oh man, that sucks. I’m allergic to bees and had a pretty nasty reaction this summer.” Thanks to a psychotic bee keeper. “So, no Thai. Got it. And seriously, give me a call. Believe it or not, this isn’t my first time helping someone navigate a murder investigation.”

  “Thanks, Ziva. I really do appreciate it.”

  “Anytime.”

  16

  I had never been to a plastic surgeon before. In fact, I’d always been a bit judgmental toward people who wanted a little nip tuck. But the more I thought about it, I realized I could be wrong. Wasn’t I in the beauty business? Didn’t I want to help people feel the best about themselves? Perhaps, sometimes that meant having a bit of work done. That’s not to say I was ready to slide under the knife, but I had gained a better understanding of why people choose to do so. Brad had left a lasting impression on me.

  I sat in the rental car and thought about what had just happened. What did I know?

  That I liked Brad.

  No, not like that. My heart was still torn about Finn. This was more of a gut reaction, a first impression of the doctor. Brad seemed like a nice guy. I had wanted to leave the appointment ready to accuse him of murder, and now I wanted to clear his name. How messed up was that?