Bath Bombs & Beyond

by Violet Patton

Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut?

  I nodded at Etta so Teddy would know who I was talking about. “We hired her yesterday, remember?” He had no idea I hired the girl. He had helped me put out the help wanted sign, so he didn’t flinch at the news that I had hired her.

  His gaze met Etta’s moony brown eyes. Since he was a sucker for puppy-dog eyes, he softened. “Don’t worry. These boys will be on their way soon.”

  Etta whimpered, pushing a tissue under her runny nose. I squeezed her shoulders, hoping she’d keep it together until this shindig ended. “Don’t cry anymore.”

  I glared at Dick. Not only was he rude, he made this sweet girl cry.

  “Who told you about the bath bombs?” Dick’s piercing glare burned. He was ready to lynch the first person who hiccuped. Teddy and Dick glowered and straightened their shoulders, but Dick backed off, having enough sense not to openly battle Teddy.

  A twinkle lit Teddy’s eye. “Nobody.” He wouldn’t reveal a single thing he knew. “Ain’t this a brouhaha? All we need is punch.”

  Outside, attracted by the yellow police tape, a crowd of gawkers gathered, snapping photos with their cell phones. Dick jerked his chin toward the crowd. “You might need to lock up.”

  For once, I agreed with Dick. This time, my feet didn’t feel weighted, and I scurried past him to lock the door.

  Sandy sulked at Dick’s suggestion. “This is ridiculous. You aren’t shutting our business just because there’s a dead woman at the Arlington.”

  “Yep. Little lady, I am.”

  “I am no one’s little lady.” Sandy stood, balking at his insult.

  Dick grumbled, but didn’t push his luck with her. She had been groveling but any minute, grumpy Sandy might spring to life. I needed grumpy Sandy to stay away until Dick and his crew left. Bailing her out of jail wasn’t in my plan for the evening.

  Someone tapped on the glass door with a keyring. Outside the door, flanked by the two cops, a girl hopped from one foot to the other, pressing her nose against the glass. She yelled, “Etta! They won’t let me in. A-holes!”

  “Ah don’t put your nose on my glass.” It hadn’t taken long for the Etta’s sister to arrive.

  “That’s Willa. Can she come in? She’s my sister,” Etta asked, courageously stepping from behind the counter.

  Dick nodded permission, and I unlocked the door. The boy cops moved aside, and Willa pushed into the shop.

  “Jerks! Where’s my baby sister?” She and Etta met between the two lacquered tables, and Etta fell into her arms. They were nearly carbon copies, except Willa looked a bit older. Willa asked, “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

  “No.” Etta shuddered, and I feared she would begin another blubbering boohoo.

  “Not another one.” Fanny blinked into full view right next to Dick.

  “Hush up!” I shot Fanny another grimace, but quickly looked at Dick. I still feared any moment someone else would see or hear her. And the last person I wanted to do that was Dick Strand. Luckily, he didn’t blink at her shimmering presence.

  Sandy did wince at my abrupt remark but said, “You girls go into the stockroom. There’s a loveseat.”

  “Good idea.” Teddy jerked his chin. Etta grabbed Willa’s hand and led the way through the swinging doors.

  Dick didn’t try to stop them. If Dick thought her a suspect, he wouldn’t have let her go. He had cast his bait long, hunting for a bigger fish.

  “CSI will be here soon. They’ll do a search. Test your supplies and equipment.” Tough guy he was, Dick stressed his might by placing his hand on his pistol.

  I urged Sandy toward the stockroom. “Go sit with the girls.”

  “Good idea.” She got up and pushed through the swinging doors.

  I waited until Sandy was out of earshot and held out my palm. “We’ll need paperwork.”

  Dick huffed and shook his head. “Really? The paperwork’s comin’. Protecting the public first, protocol second.” He was within the rule of law right to charge into an open business, to protect and serve. Searching our bath bomb bins required protocol and a search warrant.

  “Pfft! Coppers don’t protect. They’re the problem.” I ignored Fanny’s outburst and looked toward the ridiculous police tape. “Call off your dogs. Last thing we need is that kind of publicity.”

  “Too bad.” Dick glowered

  “Too late.” Teddy stood in the background watching Dick’s haughty attitude, but he motioned toward the sidewalk. “What’s happening out there?”

  Grinning like a ghoulish clown, Mike Claiborne clicked snapshots of the yellow caution tape and the gawking tourists. A circus stopped to watch what happened behind the telltale yellow tape and the biggest clown ever juggled his cameras.

  One curious lady tourist even posed for him next to the tape.

  “Oh, no. Not again!” Anger supercharged me, and I barged out the door, past the boy cops and tapped Mike on the shoulder. “Mike! What did I tell you about taking pictures? Get off my sidewalk.” I pointed and stomped. “Get! Before I… I…”

  “Well, doggie. Long time, no see. If it ain’t Pattianna Fuqua? The former love of my life.” Mike chuckled and I hated him more than ever. My fist flew up. I was sure to slug someone before this soiree was finished.

  He looked at my small clinched fist. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

  I dropped my fist. “Shoo! There’s nothing to see here. I told you yesterday to get, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, contra, my Cherie amour, pretty little one I adore, plenty to see.”

  Twirling like a crazed ballerina, he pirouetted snapping my photograph again… and again.

  “I’m gonna…” My fist flew up again, I couldn’t stop it.

  “Do it.” His shutter clicked.

  Trying to be nice, I asked, “Please. Can’t you just stop it? If you…” Before I slugged him. Hitting him might feel good, but wouldn’t help my situation.

  “Nope, not gonna stop.” He watched my fist drop.

  He had returned to the scene of the crime all too soon. It was bad enough he picked up the flittering cash on the sidewalk and hadn’t returned it, but now, I couldn’t figure out what he wanted.

  “You’re a no-good shyster.” I should tell Dick about yesterday’s photographic session?

  Behind me, Teddy said, “Pattianna don’t you think we better lock the door?” His steady tone calmed me… somewhat.

  “Coming,” I looked over my shoulder at Teddy. It felt good to have him at my back.

  Enforced by Teddy, I got in Mike’s face. “If you publish a single photograph of the front of my shop, I’ll sue you to kingdom come.”

  “Kingdom’s coming, darlin’. Sue away.” Mike grinned, moving away to photograph the crowd.

  Pauly came to my rescue, waving the crowd down the sidewalk. “Scene of a crime. Move along.”

  Teddy held open the door and urged me inside. “C’mon? Let’s lock the door.”

  “Oh, all right.” Scowling, I went to him, shut the door, and dead bolted it. Whirling, I ran into Dick. “I thought you left.”

  His deadpan expression was perfect. “One more quickie question. Did the woman use a credit card?” I frowned at his sick quickie comment. Only a dick like Dick would use such an insinuating slight.

  “Nope. She paid cash.”

  “Do you have that money?” I held it together, clinching my fists by my side. What a ridiculous question. “Doubt it. We made a deposit.” That was an outright lie. I had paid Etta with cash, but which bills belonged to the victim wouldn’t be easy to figure out.

  Remembering the wad of money falling from her bag and the scene on the sidewalk, guilt washed over me. I should’ve done something other than gasp and run inside. Now I really regret my hesitation to get involved and not calling the police.

  Dick gave the shop one last glare. “Right. You gonna let me out?”

  “Show yourself out like you showed yourself in.” My smart retort felt good.

  “Ma’am.” He tipped hi
s obtrusive hat. “I’ll be in touch.”

  My nose lifted. “I’m sure.”

  He opened the door but reared back like a stallion with a briar under its saddle. “Ouch! What the—? Something just stung me.” He rubbed his large derriere.

  My smile broadened. “Bees. Most likely. We’ve been plagued by them.” I couldn’t help enjoying his pain.

  “I hope not. I’m allergic to bees.” So, the tough guy has a big weakness. Almost made him human.

  “Give it a couple minutes. When you go into anaphylactic shock, you’ll know for sure.”

  Dick’s face fell. “I got an Epipen in the truck.” He limped away, favoring his left side.

  I stood in the open door, chuckling. “Thanks.”

  Beside me, Fanny shimmered in a kaleidoscope of happiness. “You’re welcome.”

  12

  William Henry Doyle

  When Teddy and I entered the stockroom, Willa and Etta were huddled into the broken-down loveseat. The longer you sat on it, the lower it sank. Etta sighed, when I entered the room. Willa focused on her phone. Their remarkable resemblance made it almost impossible to tell them apart. Willa busied herself text messaging. Instant responses pinged back. No telling what she was sharing on social media, or with whom.

  So much for keeping this crime quiet.

  Now, the whole town knew Dick had closed the Row, and a woman died bathing in our bath bombs.

  Etta gripped her legs, resting her forehead on her knees with her bare feet braced against the sofa’s frame. Her dirty Keds set on the floor. Her toenails were painted black.

  The cheap shoes made me remember the victim’s style and expensive clothing. These two girls lived entirely different lives from the dead woman, and I couldn’t feel sorry for their financial state—they were alive.

  “I’m taking Etta home. I’m Willa, by the way.”

  “Yes, I know.” We didn’t need an in-depth introduction. I’m sure Etta already told Willa everything she knew about me and the shop.

  Willa continued. “I’m working a split shift. Filling in for someone else. I can’t take Etta to the Ohio. She’s too young.”

  Sandy paced, somewhat recovered from Dick’s visit. “What should I do?”

  If the sheriff’s reports I typed over the years hadn’t jaded me, I would probably have been as flustered as Sandy. “Why don’t you go home and relax?”

  Sandy almost smiled, but grimaced instead. “Ha! Like that can happen.” She wrapped a hand behind her neck and popped her kinked vertebra.

  “I can handle it. I’m used to these kinds of things. Teddy can hang. Can’t you?”

  He raised a brow. “Sure, I’ll keep’m honest.” He flipped a folded sheet of sand paper between two fingers. “The less people in the way, the faster they’ll finish.”

  “I agree. Girls?” Willa looked up at me and poked Etta in the thigh. “Yeah, we’re going.”

  “What are you doing with the sand paper?” Sandy asked.

  “I thought while I was here.” Teddy waved the sand paper in a circular motion at the bathroom’s open door.

  Sandy’s fists landed on her hips. “What does that mean?”

  “We talked about sanding Fanny’s name off the wall. I thought we agreed repainting wasn’t necessary?” I looked away from his motioning. I didn’t want him to rub Fanny off the wall. If she was a figment of my imagination... okay... but her signature... especially the recent R.I.P. made her existence, past and present, feel all too real.

  “We did, didn’t we?” Teddy pushed the sand paper into his shirt pocket. “Guess we better not disturb the crime scene.”

  “Right,” Sandy said. “Dick sure doesn’t have a good bedside manner.”

  “Dick’s full of BS.” Teddy chuckled. “Don’t let him scare you. He’s looking for hard evidence. The faster it comes in, the better.”

  Fanny hadn’t shown herself in the stockroom, but she added her two cents “He’s a nasty jackass.”

  “Whether he is or isn’t. Moving stuff in a crime scene isn’t a good idea,” I addressed Teddy and Fanny’s comments at the same time.

  “They ain’t gonna find a thing wrong.” Teddy pointed at the bulk supply bins.

  Sandy’s frown drooped deeper. “You never know, we might have tainted ingredients. What if—?”

  “There’s no what if. Crime of passion? She was naked in the bathtub.” Teddy jerked his head toward the door.

  Etta pouted at the mention of the girl, and Teddy noticed, asking, “You need help getting home?”

  “No, thanks. We’re good,” Willa answered for Etta.

  Sandy rummaged under the workbench, finding her purse. “Guess I’ll go ice my feet. Take a chill pill.” I needed chilling and ice.

  “Good idea.” I wanted her to leave. She’d have an epic come apart especially when the investigators moved her perfectly aligned lotion bottles. With her out of the way, I could better watch over the crime crew instead of taking care of her.

  Willa stood, offering Etta a hand. “Us too. We better get before that dick hauls my sister off.”

  Etta slipped into her Keds. “Oh, don’t say that. I don’t like him at all.”

  “Join the club,” I added. Poor, uncharismatic Dick wasn’t winning friends or influencing people.

  Sandy pushed open the security door and held it open for the girls. “Where’s your car? I’ll give you a lift.”

  Willa looped her hand in Etta’s elbow.

  “Behind the Ohio. We’ll walk. It’ll be faster.”

  “I know the way,” Etta said. She had put the trash out on Tuesday in the alleyway. There’s a narrow pathway behind the buildings leading to a public parking lot, after the lot, the girls could hit the sidewalk a half a block from the shop. The Ohio was only a short walk down Central Avenue.

  I followed the girls out and held the door open. “When the coast is clear I’ll text, telling you when to come back to work.”

  Willa was six steps away. “C’mon. I’m running late.”

  Etta looked back, grimacing.

  “You’re coming back, aren’t you?” I asked.

  She ducked her chin, which I took for hesitation. “Sure.”

  I couldn’t blame her for wanting to get far away from the situation. I didn’t need to tell her she’d never forget finding a dead body. Finding was much different from seeing someone in a casket, dressed in their Sunday best, wearing lipstick and rouge, packed up and ready to go to the cemetery.

  Back in the stockroom, I eyed my new batch of bath bombs. “Guess I’ll toss these.”

  Teddy settled onto loveseat. “Ah, don’t do that yet. Let’s wait for the crew.”

  “Do you think it was a crime of passion?” I asked, having flashbacks of Spats’ clinched jaw. Should I tell Teddy about what happened or let it be? From what Etta described, except for the bloody lips—had she bitten her lip? —it sounded like suicide. All alone in a bathtub, far from home, involved with that goober, she just ended it.

  “I can’t say, really.” He was playing it cool and keeping quiet now that we were involved. I doubt he thought it was our bath bombs… my bath bombs when he pushed into the showroom. Seeing Dick, cemented the possibility the bath bomb had come from the Row.

  I sat beside Teddy on the sofa and rolled into him.

  “Sorry.” Heat brush across my chest. I righted myself and adjusted the cushion underneath me. Leaning my head back on the squishy bump made me wish for a new bag of ice. I puffed air into my cheeks, held it and then blew out.

  Teddy draped his hand over the back of the loveseat behind my head. “What are you thinking?”

  I stared at the ceiling. “What if someone planted poison in the bombs?”

  His cell phone pinged, and he took his arm off the loveseat to fish it from his shirt pocket. He pushed a thumb along its screen, reading a message.

  “Could be. But why would they?”

  “If it was poisoned before I gave it to her, how would I have plucked the righ
t poisoned bath bomb out of a bin, just like that?” I snapped my fingers and sat up straight. “Oh, my word! What if all the products are tainted? We need to tell everyone who bought our bath bombs of the potential problem.”

  Lawsuit popped into my head.

  “I bet it wasn’t random. Somebody wanted her dead. You know how these things go.”

  I struggled to get out of the loveseat without rolling into him again. “And they picked our bath bombs to kill her?” That idea confounded me and I needed to move. Sitting still wasn’t doing my nerves any good.

  He pushed his phone into his pocket. “Toxicology will tell all. Don’t you worry. I wouldn’t be telling anyone about the poisoned bath bombs just yet.”

  “But… what if—?” I paced in front of the workbench.

  “It won’t happen twice. Trust me.”

  I grimaced because I hated trusting people. Yet my mind rambled, wondering how someone could’ve poisoned the bath bombs. “I gave you a sample bath bomb, did you use it?”

  Teddy chuckled. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

  I puckered at his smart remark. “Shut up. I’m not joking.”

  “Besides, I hardly bathe—”

  “That’s the truth.” I giggled and put needed space between us. He made me laugh, which was hard to do. Of all the people in my life, I trusted him the most.

  “What’d the victim look like?”

  I shrugged, pretending to count the bath bombs setting in the rack. “Slim. Sophisticated. Rich.”

  “Typical. Poor girls don’t drown with fancy bath bombs surrounding them.”

  “Stop it, would you? This isn’t funny.”

  “I’ll say.” Fanny fluttered the tissue paper. “Poor girls get shot.”

  Teddy patted the loveseat. “Sit. Relax. Take a load off.”

  “Stop it. You’re creepin’ me out.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?” Fanny asked.

  “That means… I’m unhappy. Stop it.”

  He frowned. “Ah, I know what creepin’ out means. Why do I creep you out?”

  “I didn’t mean you’re creepin’ me out. Just everything in general.” I was getting better at covering the blurts I directed at Fanny.