Mimi Lee Gets a Clue

by Jennifer J. Chow

  Indira strapped on the bag made of black leather with gold accents. “You don’t understand. This is my livelihood.”

  “Yes, and this studio is my sacred space. What I say goes.”

  “I’ve already brought in the merchandise, and the ladies will be lining up to buy soon.”

  “Fine,” the teacher said. “For today. But don’t bring back the bags unless Ash feels better. I can’t have you two sitting through another session and distracting the others.”

  “I see,” Indira said, her voice pinched.

  The teacher nodded and walked away.

  Indira mumbled under her breath, “I paid for this class fair and square, and I intend to make it worth my while.”

  She glanced over at me, but I pretended to busy myself with petting Marshmallow. Did she realize I had overheard her griping?

  Indira didn’t have time to question me, though, since a gaggle of women approached us, with Lauren leading the way.

  She came and kissed me on both cheeks. “Mimi, so good to see you.”

  Lauren scratched the top of Marshmallow’s head. “You, too, cutie.”

  He retreated behind my legs, planting himself underneath my chair. “Do not let any of those other women touch me.”

  I smiled up at Lauren. “Marshmallow’s a bit shy today. So, what a wonderful class. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “Any friend of Pixie’s is a bosom buddy of mine.” She fanned herself with French-manicured hands. “Though today’s asana poses made me work so hard.”

  The young woman standing behind her spluttered, and Lauren turned her head. She said, “Mimi, this is my assistant, Nicola.”

  Despite beads of perspiration spotting her forehead and dark, stringy hair, Nicola looked striking with her supermodel height and gazelle-like body. She even possessed a classic symmetrical face, except for a bulbous nose that threw off her other delicate features.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said to Nicola and shook her hand.

  Lauren turned to the group of women behind her and addressed them. “Everyone”—she clapped her hands—“this is my dear friend, Mimi Lee. She’s fab at making dogs appear spectacular. You do remember Sterling’s to-die-for sweatband, right? Look no further for great grooming services.”

  I pulled out my stash of business cards, while Lauren stepped to the side. A long, snaking line formed before me.

  While smiling and handing out my cards, I heard Lauren addressing Nicola. “I’m parched after that workout. Where’s my water bottle?”

  Nicola scrunched up her round nose. “Oops. I must have forgotten to bring it.”

  “Incompetence will not be rewarded, Nicola.”

  Lauren’s eyes scanned the room. She spotted Tammy standing apart from the other women. I assumed Tammy didn’t want to wait in line because she already had one of my business cards. Motioning to Tammy, Lauren said, “Your water, please.”

  Gee, the rich really did act privileged. Being a famous producer’s wife must have Lauren used to people catering to her every whim. And she seemed to take full advantage of her glamorous lifestyle, like those A-list actors with special riders in their contracts: fresh-cut flowers in their trailers and only blue M&M’s in their candy trays.

  Tammy ambled to Lauren and passed over a stainless steel bottle.

  Lauren opened the cap. Glancing at it, she wiped it off. “Been to the beach, I see.” She sipped the water. “Very refreshing. Thank you.”

  I finished passing out my contact information. While some of the women exited the class, others stayed and browsed Indira’s wares. A few even purchased a bag or two. Soon, Indira had collected a large wad of bills.

  One last lady lingered over the purse selection, considering. “I don’t know if I really need a bag.”

  “It’s super functional,” Indira said. “Excellent for when you’re walking your dog. See how my hands are free? I have my demo bag on now to show you how great it is.”

  “That does sound handy.” The woman examined the black and gold fanny pack Indira wore. “Funny. I used to have a purse that looked like this. It frayed, so I had to donate it.”

  “Well, then, you must get this one. If only for sentimental reasons.”

  The woman’s eyes misted. “I agree. Sold.”

  “Like I said, this is my demo bag. Let me pull out the stuff I was able to fit inside it.” Indira started taking out everything from the fanny pack. She extracted pens, spare tampons, and a mini metal flashlight.

  Indira completed the sale and thanked the woman. The duffel bag looked deflated after all the purchases from the yoga ladies.

  I walked out with the last remaining women: Lauren with her assistant Nicola, Tammy, and Indira. In the lobby, Tammy waved goodbye to us. Poor Kale wheeled along behind her.

  “So sad about that dog.” Wanting to assess the ladies’ reactions, I added, “Did you hear about the recent tragic death?”

  Indira gave a curt nod. “I found out from my pool boy. Life sure gives us lemons sometimes, and I speak from experience.” Then she marched over to the receptionist and started talking to her in an irate manner. Marshmallow’s eyes sparkled, and he followed her.

  Lauren turned to me with wide eyes. “I don’t know what you two are going on about.”

  “The breeder Russ Nolan? He died in a suspicious way,” I said. “There’s an open homicide investigation.”

  Nicola gave a small gasp but covered it with a pretend sneeze.

  Lauren turned to her assistant. “Allergies are rough. I have a natural remedy I can give you—echinacea.”

  Nicola shuddered and refused the offer. “Just a dry throat. Nothing serious.”

  Lauren said to me in a loud stage whisper, “It’s extremely tough when assistants bail out on you. Best to watch over them and ensure they’re in good health.”

  Nicola turned a bright pink but kept any emotion off her face.

  Lauren tapped Nicola’s shoulder and said, “You know what I just thought of? Set up an appointment with Mimi to get that thing done for Sterling. There’s a big astronomy fundraiser coming up, and he needs to feel his best.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Dalton.” Nicola swiveled to me and whipped her phone out. We synced our calendars, eventually settling upon a weekend to fit in Sterling’s appointment.

  CHAPTER

  twelve

  AS I UNLOCKED the door to Hollywoof the following morning, I saw Marshmallow’s back arch and his fur rise up. “Here comes trouble,” he said.

  I looked over my shoulder, and a dose of déjà vu smacked me in the face. Detective Brown made his way across the palm tree–lined plaza toward me. A scowl darkened his hard face.

  He wore the same sport coat as before. However, his hair had grown a bit longer; the sandy buzz cut seemed more scraggly and unkempt today.

  When he reached Hollywoof, I held the door open for him. “Um, Detective Brown, what a surprise. Did you happen to get a new pet recently and need my services?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” He flashed his badge. “Told you I’d return.”

  I led the way forward, flipping on the lights as I went in. “So I suppose this is official business.”

  “You betcha. I have a few more questions for you, Miss Lee.”

  I retreated behind the cash register, trying to place some sort of barrier between us. “What exactly do you want to know?”

  He approached me and leaned over the counter. The sudden shadow he threw across me made goose bumps crawl up my arms. “You were snooping around at Russ Nolan’s house, trying to pass yourself off as a renter. Why?”

  How had he found out already? Rubbing my chilly arms, I said, “I don’t have to tell you anything without my lawyer present.”

  He snapped upright and leaned away from me. “You secured legal representation?”

  Marshmallow strol
led over with a swagger. “Take that, Mr. Big Cop.” He even shook out his body, making a few hairs pelt the detective’s pant leg.

  “I can call my attorney right this minute,” I said, picking up the phone next to the cash register.

  “Fine.” Detective Brown moved over to the sitting area and plopped down on a cream pleather bench. “I can wait for your lawyer to show up.”

  I dialed Josh’s work number It went straight to his voice mail. Uh-oh. Sometimes he didn’t check his messages until later in the day.

  But I needed immediate access to him. I called his mobile number.

  When Josh answered, I said, “The detective’s here at my shop. Can you swing by Hollywoof?”

  “Let me wrap something up with my coworker first,” he said, “and then I’ll be right there.”

  A reedy voice piped up in the background. “Come on, man. We’re in the middle of an important conversation.”

  “It’s a client. I need to give her some legal advice,” Josh told his inconsiderate coworker.

  “Whatever. Why is a chick really calling your cell?” the coworker said. “I know the real reason. Bras before bruhs.”

  “Mimi,” Josh said, “I’ll be over as soon as I can.”

  I could feel Detective Brown’s eyes on me while we waited. The silence grew more oppressive with every minute that passed, as though an ancient jade burial shroud weighed down my body.

  Detective Brown drummed his fingers against the swirled marble table in the waiting area. I jumped.

  He stopped beating his fingers and raised his bushy eyebrows at me. “Stressed much?” A pause. “What do you do to relax, Miss Lee?”

  Small talk seemed safe enough, as long as it didn’t involve the actual case. “Let’s see, I read on occasion.” Young adult books. I pictured myself flanked by teenagers in the indie bookstores I frequented or at the local library branch. But he didn’t need to know the precise details.

  “Some people loosen up by drinking,” he said. “You have a favorite alcoholic beverage?”

  Detective Brown stared at me with such a strange fierceness that his eyes almost gleamed.

  “Or perhaps you prefer to de-stress by being out in nature,” he continued. “Maybe by relaxing under the night sky?”

  Josh rushed in at that moment. His gaze swiveled back and forth between Detective Brown with his intense look and me behind the counter, my jaw wide open.

  “You don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to,” Josh said. He stepped around the counter and stood beside me. He placed one hand against my trembling back.

  Why would Detective Brown be asking me info about my personal habits: drinking, stargazing . . . Then it clicked. In Russ Nolan’s trash bin, I’d found a constellation poster, along with an empty bottle of wine. Detective Brown had wanted to connect me to Russ Nolan.

  My insides seethed. “You tried to trick me into talking,” I said.

  Josh slipped his arm from my back and squeezed my hand once. Then he strode over to Detective Brown and handed his business card to the cop. “My client declines any further questioning.”

  Detective Brown took a long time staring at Josh’s info. “Do you even practice criminal law?”

  Josh cleared his throat. “As Mimi’s attorney, I would like to know if you’re exhausting the entire list of possible suspects in this investigation.”

  Detective Brown crumpled Josh’s business card and stuffed it in his sport coat. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, Mr. Akana.”

  Josh spread his hands out in a placating gesture. “I’m sure you’re a well-respected detective. I know my client doesn’t have an alibi for that night. She also made a nasty remark to the victim before he died. But do you have anything solid tying my client to Russ Nolan’s murder?”

  Detective Brown stared at Josh, his eyes sparking with fire.

  Josh continued, “How exactly did Russ Nolan die, anyway?”

  Detective Brown gave me a piercing look while he said his next words. “As you well know, Miss Lee, by a blow to his head.”

  I shivered. Did he really think me capable of such violence? Whacking somebody to death?

  Detective Brown rubbed the back of his neck and said, “We haven’t found the weapon yet, but we’ll track it down soon.”

  Josh clenched his jaw. “You won’t find it anywhere near my client.”

  The two men engaged in a staredown. I could almost smell the testosterone flowing out of their pores. They acted like a pair of feral dogs, and the image reminded me of an important question I’d been meaning to ask. “There is one thing I’d like to talk about, Detective Brown.”

  He broke the staring contest and turned to me. “Are you ready to discuss your movements the night of Russ Nolan’s murder?”

  “No, I want to know about the dogs.”

  “Dogs?” Detective Brown said, a frown on his face.

  Marshmallow smirked from his perch near the sunny window and deadpanned, “As a non–pet owner, you may not be aware, but dogs are four-legged animals in the canine family.”

  “I filed a complaint about some puppies, remember? That’s how I got involved in this whole mess,” I said. “Where did the police place those dogs? At a local shelter?”

  Detective Brown shrugged. “I don’t investigate animals. I’m interested in more valuable lives—human ones. Maybe the dogs ran away. Not a trace of them at the house, anyway.”

  I knocked over the jar of dog biscuits on the counter and had to right it. “You mean, they weren’t around when you showed up?”

  “Not that I saw. And no mention of dogs in any of the initial paperwork.” Detective Brown turned his attention back to Josh. “Since I can’t ask any questions of your client, I guess my time here is done.”

  “That’s right.” Josh crossed his arms against his chest.

  Detective Brown moved around the counter toward me. He held out his hand. “Goodbye, Miss Lee.”

  Not wanting to show bad manners, I grabbed it to shake. When I did so, though, he almost yanked my arm off.

  “Ow.”

  His eyes dimmed as he mumbled, “Not that strong of a grip.” In a sharper tone, he said, “I bet there’s a reason you went back to the scene of the crime. Murderers often do. Better stay in town. I’m sure we’ll see each other real soon.”

  After the detective had left, I let out a loud exhale. Josh opened his arms, and I moved into his warm embrace. “Thanks for coming over,” I said.

  Josh held me for a few exciting, hammering heartbeats. “You feel perfect in my arms,” he murmured.

  I saw Marshmallow turn his head to look out the window with a fixed stare. Maybe to avoid watching our display of affection. At least he didn’t start hacking again.

  Even though I wanted to remain in Josh’s embrace, I disentangled myself with a sigh. “I know you have to get back to work.”

  “I do need to get going, but I want to see you again, Mimi—and not for business.”

  A jolt of excitement sparked up my spine. “I would love to.”

  We grinned at each other as we stretched out our goodbye, and Josh looked back at me as he dragged his feet toward the exit.

  After Josh had left and my nerves had settled, I took time to reflect on my encounter with Detective Brown. I found myself replaying the cop’s nonchalant attitude toward Russ Nolan’s dogs. What had happened to those poor puppies? Had they really gone running off into the streets? It seemed unlikely. Plus, if they had done so, someone would’ve noticed.

  I knew of one neighbor who might be able to answer my questions. I turned to Marshmallow and said, “Better start practicing your pet tricks.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Following through on my promise, I traveled to Shirl’s home in the evening. However, I parked around the corner to avoid attracting unwa
nted attention. I didn’t want to be spotted around Russ Nolan’s home again.

  We walked over to Shirl’s front door, and when she opened up, I noticed she’d dressed up for the occasion. Though she still wore a long-sleeved shirt that read, “Everything I know I learned from YouTube,” she’d exchanged her usual lounge pants for a more fitted style.

  Shirl greeted us with a small smile on her face, and Marshmallow again offered his paw to be shaken. After gripping it, she invited us inside her home.

  The house smelled like a potpourri factory, with an overwhelming dose of sandalwood and musk. Shirl possessed an enormous collection of heavy antique furniture and knickknacks. She kept her floor dirt-free by placing plastic runners everywhere.

  She invited us to her sitting nook, a space containing two plush armchairs facing each other. A round doily-covered table separated the seats. “Please make yourself at home while I check a phone message. I couldn’t run over to the phone in time to catch the call earlier.”

  Marshmallow and I made ourselves comfortable. From the sitting room, I could see Shirl enter her kitchen and fiddle with an answering machine. The message played back at a loud volume. Her doctor had called to remind her about her next checkup appointment and to ask her to get a MedicAlert bracelet.

  I saw Shirl jotting down the appointment on a supersize wall calendar next to the refrigerator. When she came back to us, her eyes glittered. “So, what new tricks did you teach Emperor?”

  Was her memory faltering? “I don’t know if you recall, but his name is Marshmallow.”

  She waved away my comment with her sunspotted hand. “Like I said before, Emperor is a much more suitable moniker.”

  Marshmallow purred.

  I bit my tongue. Apparently, Shirl’s mind remained as cutting as a blade.

  “Ready?” I said, clearing my throat. I waved my arms in a mystical weaving motion. “Prepare to be amazed, Shirl. Abracadabra.”

  Marshmallow didn’t twitch one muscle. He’d make a horrible magician’s assistant. “I’m not a performing bunny,” he told me.