Beauty Secrets Cozy Mystery Boxed Set 1 Page 9

  My pickup was so warm and stuffy when I got in, that I had been focused on rolling down the windows and not reading the note stuck to the windshield. I tilted my head to read the words, Let secrets lie or you will DIE.

  I thought, Well, isn’t that nice; it even rhymes. The note was written in a child-like manner or by someone who had written with the opposite hand. I scrambled out of the car and pulled the note out from under my windshield wiper blade to examine it more closely. The handwriting creeped me out. It looked like it had been written in crayon, or maybe it was lipstick. I didn’t touch the lettering for fear I would smear it or damage the evidence. Of course, I surveyed the parking lot, but no one suspicious jumped out at me. I didn’t even peg anyone who could be Finn’s girlfriend. The person who left the note was probably long gone after seeing my truck had been parked here all night. I thought about calling Aria, but she taught a sunrise yoga class (crazy, I know) and I already knew where Finn was, and I was in no hurry to talk to him. It was obvious who the real person I should call was. I just hoped this time he would finally answer his phone.

  As luck would have it, Detective Brandle answered on the third ring. “Morning, Ms. Diaz,” he said. His greeting caught me off guard. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he recognized my number. I’d called him enough times in the past two days.

  “Morning, Detective. Listen, sorry for calling you again, but someone left a creepy note on my car this morning. I’m pretty sure it has to do with the Siebold case. Have a minute to talk?”

  “I can do that. Mind meeting me down at Sweet Thangs? I could use a cup of coffee,” he said.

  “Sounds great. I’ll be there in five.” Looks like I get my chai latte after all.

  Sweet Thangs was busy for a Wednesday morning at eight o’clock. The shop’s whimsical décor reminded me of Disney World, and the treats were just as magical. That wasn’t all that brought locals to the shop. Next to their sugary confections, Sweet Thangs also brewed a mean cup of Joe and had the best chai latté in town. The frosted blue walls and white tabletops painted a summer scene that contradicted our planned topic of conversation. Patrons lined up along the counter and placed their orders for coffee, scones, and other sugary delights. The place was uncomfortably crowded, but the customers’ chatter would help drown out our voices. Outside, customers sat on the wooden benches of the scattered two-tops, with their morning coffee and pastry of choice. Of course, I couldn’t resist and ordered a cream-cheese-stuffed cinnamon roll to go with my latte. With the way my morning was going, I needed it. And did I mention it was stuffed with cream cheese? Seriously, who could resist? What can I say? I’m an emotional eater.

  Detective Brandle had already staked out a table, and I soon joined him with my sugary, fat-packed breakfast, trying not to feel like a pig while he sipped his black coffee.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” I said. From the bags under the detective’s eyes, I knew he’d rather be in bed. Why men didn’t wear makeup was beyond me. At least he wasn’t wearing the same black pants and white shirt that I had come to associate as his uniform. No, today he was less formal - khaki shorts and a navy Polo shirt. Maybe it was his day off.

  “That looks good,” Detective Brandle said, eying my roll.

  “It is. You should totally have one,” I said.

  “The misses would hound me until the Fourth of July if she saw me eating that. My sugar’s been up,” the detective explained.

  “Ah.” Yeah, this definitely wasn’t a smart breakfast choice if you were watching your sugar intake. I’d have to make some serious dietary changes if my sugar ever got out of whack.

  “So, what have you found?” Detective Brandle asked, getting right to the point.

  I told him about the note, and what I learned at The Palms the night before. I also told him about the Siebold’s son, Philip, and what Mrs. J.’s theory was. I thought about bringing up Marion and her alleged affair with the good doctor, but held my tongue. There was only so much gossip I was willing to spread around. Until I saw some proof of Marion and Dr. Michelson’s relationship, I was keeping my mouth shut. Besides, the way Roger doted on Ann Marie, I figured Marion deserved a tryst or two.

  Detective Brandle turned serious. “I’m not sure what this note’s all about, but you’ve got to be careful. Back off and let us work this case.”

  “Yeah, but—” I began to protest.

  “No. Listen, I can add extra patrols to your area, but you need to be smart. Do you have someone you can stay with?” he asked.

  Aria came to mind first, but I would hate myself if something happened to her or, heaven forbid, Arjun, because of me. The murderer seemed to be getting nervous. They’d already killed two people in one week, plus assaulting and now threatening me. Who knew what else they would do? I was staying as far away from Aria as possible.

  Finn’s place could’ve been an option, but not anymore. Not until I figured out who the mystery woman was. Of course, there was always my parents’ condo. They’d be away for the remainder of the week, which reminded me, I needed to get my butt over there and water the plants before they all croaked.

  “I have some options,” I told Detective Brandle.

  “Well, you should take a serious look at them. Maybe even get out of town for a couple of days, and keep your eyes open. If you see anyone or anything suspicious, call nine-one-one immediately,” he said.

  “Will do,” I said automatically.

  “We should also look at your windshield for prints. Maybe we’ll get lucky. I’ll have the note processed too,” he said.

  “My prints are probably all over it,” I said.

  “Possibly, but we can still take a look. If we find something, we can always rule yours out,” he said.

  “Okay.” That made sense. I showed Detective Brandle where I had parked, and stood back to let him do his work. The process wasn’t nearly as technical as I thought it would be, although, he did wear rubber gloves while handling the note and checking for prints. I watched as he shined his flashlight through my windshield and then dusted the area where I said the note had been found.

  “Bingo! Looks like we got a couple prints. Maybe a thumb and index finger,” Detective Brandle said.

  I looked at the print he found on the wiper blade. “Shouldn’t be mine. I pulled the note off from the corner.” And, I didn’t regularly go around adjusting my wiper blades.

  Detective Brandle worked to lift the print, using his credit card to smooth out the tape and cleanly transfer the print to it. It was a trick he said he’d learned years ago. He then peeled off the tape and affixed it to an index-looking card, jotting down a couple notes on it when he finished.

  “It will take a while to get this processed. Don’t expect to hear back on this any time soon. It would be nice to find a match though, give us a starting point.”

  I agreed that it would be. Maybe a print would match the others lifted from Roger’s house or boat.

  “In the meantime, you be careful. Like I said, call nine-one-one if it’s an emergency, and call me if you hear of anything else,” he said.

  “Got it.” I think Detective Brandle was going to say something else but, like usual, his cell phone rang.

  “Brandle,” the detective said almost with a sigh. “Again? You’ve got to be kidding me. When? No. I’m nearby. On it.”

  I listened to a bit more of the conversation than was probably polite to, but I couldn’t help it. Detective Brandle signed off with a couple choice swear words, and it was enough for me to get the general gist.

  “Another break in?” I asked.

  “The Chocolatier. This is ridiculous. Who robs a candy shop at nine o’clock in the morning?”

  “Wow,” I mouthed. The Chocolatier was known for their fancy-schmancy chocolates, like lavender-infused truffles and gold-foiled petit fours.

  “The day just keeps getting better.” Detective Brandle looked at his phone. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but I’ll be in touch. Remember, keep your eyes out
and don’t hesitate to call emergency services if you need to.”

  I promised Detective Brandle I would be smart and extra vigilant, and waved him off. Getting into the truck, I took a moment to check my emotions. While I was happy to have finally caught up with Detective Brandle, there was still a mound of dread in my stomach. With the robberies now happening in broad daylight, I doubted he’d have any extra time to devote to the case. Looked like I was still on my own.

  10

  Pepper spray, a baseball bat, and a hunting knife lined the counter at the sporting goods store. I thought about purchasing a handgun too, but I didn’t have a clue of how to use one. The salesman was very helpful and suggested I rent a couple at the gun range to get a feel for what I liked. That sounded like a smart idea, and safer than my original plan of just going with the meanest-looking one I could find that would still fit in my purse. I could just see myself getting knocked on my butt the first time I fired it. It looked like Aria and I would be hitting up the gun range this weekend. Come to think of it, she might already own a handgun. Her late husband was a big-time collector of … well, everything.

  I paid for my items, put the pepper spray on my key chain, the knife in my beauty bag, the baseball bat on the passenger seat, and pulled out of the parking lot to head to my parents’ condo. At least their place had security. Well, that is, if you counted old man Miles as a security guard. He was nosey enough for the job, that was for sure, but I was pretty sure he lacked the physical strength to stop a determined toddler, let alone a madman. That was okay because, while Miles kept an eye out, I’d provide the heat, if necessary.

  I eyed my defense arsenal on the passenger seat. No one could say I wasn’t taking precautions.

  Pulling into my parents’ complex, there seemed to be a yard sign on every corner. They read things such as It’s no SECRET … Justine is the best in beauty, and All you need is Justine. If I had a permanent marker, I might’ve crossed it all out and wrote in: For a good time, call… Alas, I was sans a marker.

  I looked up the street and smiled. Inez was unmistakable, wearing the bright purple sunhat she won at the beauty demo. It sat perfectly straight, weightless, atop her brown nest of hair. She carried a stack of Justine’s signs under her arm, having yanked them out of the ground. Bless her. I parked the pickup at the end of my parents’ driveway and walked over to meet her. She stood, ripping the signs in half so they would fit into her recycling bin.

  “I don’t know who this Justine girl is, but she looks like trouble. She is, isn’t she? I can sense it,” Inez said.

  “She is,” I replied.

  “Well, it’s a good thing I told her to skedaddle then, and to take her signs with her. Here I am, just trying to work on my flowers, and she comes up to me and starts bad-mouthing you. Can you believe that?”

  I could. Looked like my attorney needed to send a more forceful letter, too.

  “Good riddance. And if she’s smart, she won’t come back. But she’s not smart, is she? No, I know she’s not. She wouldn’t be putting up signs like this in our neighborhood if she was. She was probably at that beauty demo of yours too. Am I right?”

  I nodded to confirm she was right.

  “Trash, that’s what she is. But not you. You’re a real beauty, inside and out.”

  Inez was too kind. I was thinking I was more of a hot mess than a beauty. I had yet to take a proper shower since the night before, and I was feeling less than stellar.

  “But look at me, I’m a total mess,” she continued. “I had to get out here and tend to my plants before it got too hot. These wild geraniums overgrow my sunscape daisies every year.” Inez motioned to the ground for me to see the wilting geraniums she had pulled. They didn’t look like weeds to me. That showed how much I knew about gardening. Folks who cared about their plants kept them far away from me. Just ask my parents. I was pretty sure their plants were as good as dead by now.

  “They don’t mess with my hydrangea or purple coneflowers, though, see? They know. They know who they can mess with.” Inez pointed across the way at two plants. If she hadn’t used the word purple to describe one of them, I wouldn’t have known which was which.

  “Those wild geraniums are smart. They only sprout up next to the weaker plants, like my daisies. Maybe I’ll pot them instead. Take them right out of the ground. You have style. What do you think?”

  I went to answer, but Inez just kept on talking.

  “Terracotta always looks so classy; that’s what I think. Oh, but I used white porcelain out back and they should match, don’t you think? You must be careful with terracotta, too, you know. One cold winter night and, crack, your pot’s ruined. I’ll have to think about this. I’ve got room on the back porch for another flower pot or two, that’s for sure. It would open this front space right up. I could plant a peony right here.” She pointed to where the daisies were. “They have such beautiful flowers.” Inez looked at the spot, as if picturing the peonies in her head. “Oh, but the ants,” she said, quickly changing her mind. “I can’t have peonies so close to the front door. You know how ants love peonies. It’s not just those little ones, but those big, black nasty carpenter ants. That would be a disaster. Maybe I could plant chrysanthemum instead. Don’t you think that would be lovely?”

  This time, Inez paused for an answer, and I had no idea what to say. It would help if I knew what chrysanthemums were. I found myself nodding and agreeing with what she was saying anyway, “Yeah, you’re right. That would look nice.” Clients tended to like it when you agreed with them, and Inez seemed to have thought all this through.

  “Good heavens. Listen to me, gabbing away about my plants when you’ve had such a horrible week. How you holding up, dear? And poor Marion, how’s she doing? The whole town is just buzzing with the news. A double homicide? I can’t believe it. My grandson wants me to come stay with him; but, why should I? No one’s going to bother me. I’m perfectly safe right here.”

  I was pretty sure Inez was safe, but maybe not if I crashed at my parents’ condo right across the street. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like the safest place for me to stay, for everyone’s sake, was my place. Plus, if I stayed at my parents’ place, I’d have to stay inside all the time or run the risk of bumping into Inez and being late to everything. I ran late enough on my own. It would be a nightmare. Inez kept on talking, which only served to make up my mind. I was absolutely, one hundred percent going back to my apartment after this.

  I mentally checked back into the conversation to hear Inez say, “That’s Tico for you, always looking out for his Grams. He’s such a sweet man. I just can’t believe he hasn’t settled down yet.”

  Inez’s eyes sparkled, and I knew exactly where this conversation was going.

  “Ziva, you’re single, aren’t you? You should really meet Tico. Dark hair, brown eyes, he’s a looker,” she said.

  He did sound nice, but it was bad form to start dating clients’ relatives. If the relationship turned sour, you could kiss your client goodbye. And with the way Inez talked, I could only imagine what she’d be saying about me. Plus, after my morning, I felt like I already had one too many potential men in my life. Finn was still on my list.

  “Thanks, but I’m not looking right now. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” I hoped she wasn’t offended.

  “Suit yourself. Hey, I know what I was going to ask you about. Do you sell any of that rejuvenating cream? I don’t think I can keep these crow’s feet back much longer. I was thinking about the Q-10 formula, or those peptides, or was it antioxidants? Which one is the best? Have you tried them out? Of course, you haven’t. Just look at your skin. It’s so beautiful. When I was a young girl like yourself, I had beautiful skin too. I used to think, Inez, you have beautiful skin, and I did. Next to my dimples it was one of my best features.” And just like that, Inez was off on a different tangent again.

  Sweet sugar, could Inez talk. I had no idea if she was hyped up about something, or if she always talked
liked that. I never did get the opportunity to tell her that I’d be delivering her order in the next day or so. After discussing every rejuvenating cream, mask, and serum that Beauty Secrets sold, the conversation switched from baking (again, no help there), to knitting (yeah, no knitting needles here), to playing bridge (I didn’t have a clue). Inez went on and on about how much she loved the card game and how much she hoped tomorrow’s match wouldn’t be canceled. Turned out, they were one player short and, as Inez said, “You have to have four players to play.” I was on my toes and waiting with my excuse when she asked me to join them. I’ll do a lot to earn client business, but a girl has to draw the line somewhere. When Aria called to invite me to lunch a minute later, it was a welcome interruption.

  “What’s up, girlie? Where’ve you been?” Aria asked when we met up. We sat outside on the front deck of Maxine’s, waiting for our food to arrive. I had ordered a double cheeseburger with a chocolate martini on the side. Aria went with something much lighter—grilled salmon with a spring salad and ice water. We both tried not to make a face when the other ordered.

  “You wouldn’t believe my life right now. I’ve had so much drama, it’s ridiculous. If it’s not being attacked or finding another dead body, it’s dealing with Justine, or being threatened by some psycho.” I filled Aria in on the note.

  “That’s crazy, girl. What did the police say?” Aria asked.

  “Detective Brandle says he’s got it under control, but I don’t buy it. Not with the crazy robberies going on.”

  “I know. What’s up with that? It’s freaking me out,” she said.

  “I know, right?” I said.

  “So, now what?” Aria asked.

  “Now I need to figure out what to do next,” I said.

  “You can stay with me and Arjun until you figure it out. You know that, right?” she said.