Faux Pas

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Faux Pas Page 10

by Shannon Esposito


  ‘Do you believe what the news is saying? That Dr Craft is responsible for her death?’ Devon slid his thumb under the sleeve of my shirt and a jolt of electricity shot through my body. I shivered and felt my skin flush. Leaning forward to place my glass on the table, I used the motion to scoot out of his reach. How did he expect me to concentrate when he was touching me like that? Pretend boyfriend or not.

  She shook her head sadly. ‘If I had to guess, I’d say it was negligence. Just a doctor getting reckless with a procedure that was basically shooting toxin into her throat. I think people forget how risky these plastic surgery procedures actually are. I kept trying to tell her that, but she was obsessed with staying young.’

  ‘So, you’ve never tried it? Botox? Those Botox parties seem to be really popular,’ I probed.

  ‘No.’ She rubbed her wrinkled neck. ‘I’ve never used it, and it shows, I’m sure. But I don’t care. The important thing in life is love. Finding that special someone to share your life with.’ She smiled knowingly at us.

  Devon took my hand and brought it to his lips. The warmth of his mouth on my skin made my breath catch in my throat. ‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said, grinning at me.

  I started coughing and slipped my hand from his to grab my iced tea, nearly toppling it in the process. After a long drink, I stood up. Buddha pushed himself off the floor, staring at me expectantly. ‘Well, I think we’ve taken up enough of your time. Thank you so much for letting us visit Princess. It makes me feel so much better she’s with someone who will love her as much as Celeste did.’

  Billie stood quickly. She may have a few wrinkles but she obviously took good care of herself. There was no sign that stiffness had settled in with age. ‘Oh, you’re very welcome.’ She peered into the box on the floor. ‘Thank you for bringing her things.’ Reaching down, she lifted the tiny crown in the glass case from the box. ‘The money she spent on Princess.’ She sighed. ‘I guess true love knows no bounds. She really did love that little creature. Is it wrong to be jealous of a dog?’ She laughed, but her eyes sprouted tears. Time to go and let this woman grieve in peace.

  On the ride back to the Pampered Pup, Devon was quiet again. I glanced at his hand gripped tight on the steering wheel. Closing my eyes, I recalled the feel of that hand on my arm. Sighing, I leaned my head back and stared up at the stars. Pretend boyfriends sucked.

  ‘So, Botox is not in Billie’s toolbox. Do you think she’s even capable of murder?’ I asked.

  ‘Anyone is capable of a crime of passion,’ he answered, still distracted by his own thoughts.

  ‘A crime of passion? What does that even mean?’ It was a rhetorical question, but he answered it anyway.

  ‘When your brain shuts down and your emotions take over making you do something incredibly stupid and out of character.’

  Yeah, I could relate to that. Especially around Devon. I reached up and rubbed the yin-yang pendant between my forefinger and thumb. I still couldn’t believe he’d bought it for me.

  ‘Humans are so complicated. I don’t know. She seemed pretty stable to me. She wasn’t angry about Celeste’s rejection, just sad. Sad isn’t really an emotion that makes you want to stab someone with a toxin. Sad just makes you want to curl up in a ball and hide from the world.’

  I felt Devon glance sharply at me. ‘Sounds like you’ve had a lot of experience with sad.’

  I shrugged. ‘Not any more than everyone else, I’m sure.’ I turned in my seat to face him. ‘How is the investigation into your parent’s death going? Do you have any leads?’

  He rubbed his jaw, which was sporting a very sexy five o’clock shadow. ‘Some. I have a friend coming in from Ireland soon who may have something for me. We’ll see.’

  ‘A girl friend?’ I tried to keep my inquiry light-hearted.

  He laughed. ‘No. No girlfriend.’ Then he glanced over at me. ‘What about you? Any boyfriends?’

  I smiled. ‘No. I swore off boys in my twenties.’ And that is all I was going to say about he-who-we-don’t-speak-of.

  He pulled up in front of the Pampered Pup, threw his Jeep into park and turned to me with curiosity making his eyes sparkle. ‘Why?’

  ‘You first,’ I said, feeling brave. ‘Why no girlfriend?’

  ‘What woman would have me?’ he laughed. I folded my arms. We both knew that wasn’t the issue. ‘Well, unlike you, I didn’t swear off half of the human species.’ He smirked slightly. ‘I just traveled a lot with my job and knew it wouldn’t be fair to anyone to try and commit to a relationship. And since I’ve been on Moon Key, I’ve dated some but mostly I’ve been concentrating on finding my parents’ killer. Your turn.’

  I nodded. ‘Fair enough.’ I reached up and stroked Buddha’s head to appease him. He had shoved it between the seats and was panting at me, ready to get to his comfy bed upstairs. I needed to find a place soon. He was getting spoiled. ‘Growing up, it was always just me and my mom … and about twenty different guys she brought in and out of our lives. Each time she would say, “This is the one, Elle,” and give up her entire being to make him happy so he would stay. Of course, it never worked out. There never was a man who changed her life like he promised. And they all promised that. She just became this lost soul who is now a miserable person addicted to beer and Twinkies.’ I wiped at my eyes, surprised at the emotion this was bringing up in me.

  Devon was silent for a moment. ‘So your mum is still around though?’

  I glanced up at him, realizing how ungrateful I must sound considering his mom wasn’t around any longer. ‘Yeah. She’s in Clearwater. Though, she’s not speaking to me at the moment.’

  ‘That’s a shame.’ His brow was creased, and his eyes held oceans of empathy. Again, no judgment. Just acceptance and compassion.

  I let myself open up a little bit more. ‘Yeah, it is. Anyway, I decided I was never going to count on a man or lose myself for anyone. I would make my own happiness and … I have.’ That wasn’t a lie. That was part of it, just not all of it.

  Devon sat there, gazing into my eyes for a long time, then a sad smile appeared. ‘You have.’ He took a deep breath, and I could almost feel him pull away, though he didn’t physically move. I suddenly realized he may’ve taken my stand on men as a personal rebuke. Before I could explain, he hopped out of the Jeep and came around to open my door.

  I climbed down, feeling like I should explain that I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t ever date again. Feeling a bit anxious and scared of the distance I now felt between us, I struggled to find the right words, but they never came.

  Devon gently helped Buddha from the back seat. ‘Good night, Elle.’

  ‘Night.’ I waved as he took off. Great, Elle. Just great. Way to repel the only guy you would’ve bent the rules for in a decade. ‘Come on, Buddha.’ Dejected, I said goodnight to the guard, George, and headed up to our room.

  By Friday evening, I had decided it was a good thing I had unintentionally pushed Devon away. Bend the rules for a man who was going to leave eventually? That was just inviting heartbreak. Besides, my life was stable now. I was happy … well, besides my best friend’s husband being accused of involuntary manslaughter. And being basically homeless. And not being on speaking terms with my mother. I threw my yoga bag over my shoulder and flipped off the studio lights. I should really go check on my mother since she wasn’t answering my calls. At least it would alleviate some of the guilt I was feeling. ‘Come on, Buddha.’ Might as well get it over with.

  The parking garage had already emptied out. It was stuffy and silent as usual. As I opened the passenger door for Buddha, I noticed there was a note tucked under the windshield wiper. Absent-mindedly, I tossed my yoga bag in the back seat then went around to the driver’s side and plucked the note from the windshield. I unfolded it. My body began to tremble immediately as I read the one, very short and pointed line:

  Stop looking into Celeste’s death or you’re next.

  FIFTEEN

  I felt the rumble beneath me. The
smell of gas replaced the smell of ocean water as Devon started the Jeep and we disembarked the ferry behind a handful of Mercedes and Jaguars. We were headed for the Clearwater police station. At nine in the morning, the sun was already blazing, and I was feeling nauseous from the stress. It was, after all, my first death threat, and it was surprisingly effective.

  I placed a palm against my stomach to try and soothe it. ‘Thanks for taking me, Devon.’

  Devon kept throwing furtive glances my way as he drove over Memorial Causeway. ‘Are you well? Cause you’re lookin’ a bit pale.’

  I offered him a weak smile. ‘Yeah, I’ll be fine.’

  Tentatively, he reached a hand over and lay it on top of mine. ‘Elle, I’m really sorry. I should’ve never let you get involved. This is my fault.’

  I glanced down at his hand and then over at him. His jaw was set tight. The warmth and weight of his hand did bring me comfort. I hadn’t realized he was taking this threat against me so personally. ‘I appreciate your concern, Devon, but I’m the one that got you involved, remember?’

  He folded my hand up in his and tightened his grip. ‘Yes, but I’m trained. I can protect myself and know the risks. You’re …’ He glanced at me, and I saw fear flash in his eyes. ‘You’re vulnerable.’

  His fear hopped into my head like a contagion. I broke out in a cold sweat. Was I vulnerable? Yes, but so was every other human being who cared about something or someone. Being vulnerable didn’t mean I had the right to fall apart or hide under a rock when my friends needed me. Hope and Ira needed me. Needed me to be strong. The complete opposite of what I felt.

  Readjusting the seat belt, I straightened my spine. Then I pulled my hand out from the protection of his and rolled my shoulders back. ‘I’ll be OK, really. It was just a shock.’

  We got caught in the stop-and-go morning traffic, which didn’t seem to improve his mood. I snuck glances at him from behind my sunglasses. His expression kept shifting, like he was fighting some kind of internal war. His mood settled into a somber silence and neither one of us broke that silence the rest of the way. Finally, he made a left and pulled into a parking garage.

  ‘So, you know this detective we’ll be talking to?’ I tried to keep up with Devon’s stride as we crossed the street. Anger apparently makes people walk like there are hot coals under their feet.

  He glanced at me. ‘Yeah. I … I do know her. She’s been very decent about helping me out with my parents’ case. Even though the investigation has been officially closed, she knows I haven’t given up and supports me. She’s not the lead detective on Celeste Green’s death but she is part of the investigation. And much more pleasant to deal with than Farnsworth.’

  A female homicide detective? That surprised me and made me feel a little more at ease. At least I wouldn’t be talking to Detective Farnsworth again. I’m pretty sure I didn’t make a good impression on him at our last meeting.

  We gave up our driver’s licenses to a lady behind a bulletproof window and then waited in the lobby while she let Detective Vargas know we were there.

  After a few minutes of reading the wanted posters in the lobby, a petite woman strode through the doors toward us. She was clad in a black business suit, her dark hair rolled up in a loose bun and she looked fairly serious until she made eye contact with Devon.

  ‘Devon.’ She approached us, smiling warmly at him and eyeing me curiously.

  Devon motioned between us. ‘Salma this is Elle Pressley. Elle … Detective Salma Vargas.’ We shook hands and exchanged greetings. Her hand was small but dry and held mine like a vice grip. I felt like she was sizing me up. I tried not to take it personally, after all, that’s what detectives are trained to do, right? ‘Elle works at the Pampered Pup where Celeste Green was found. She came to me for help because she’s a friend of Ira Craft’s. I’m working for Ira now, trying to prove his innocence.’

  ‘Oh, you are?’ Detective Vargas crossed her arms and then turned her deep brown, laser-like gaze on me. She eyed me in a new way … one that looked an awful lot like suspicion. ‘I see,’ she quipped.

  ‘We have some information for you,’ Devon said.

  Her eyebrows rose slowly as she moved her attention back to Devon. ‘You do know Detective Farnsworth is the lead on that case?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Devon smiled, ‘but you’re much easier to work with.’

  She shook her head but the warm smile was back. ‘Come on then.’ She spun on her heels and motioned for the front desk to unlock the doors. After a buzz indicated the doors had been unlocked, we followed her through them and into what looked like a break room, complete with a microwave and fridge. It smelled like someone had just nuked bacon. My stomach twisted in protest. Devon and I took a seat at a large round table.

  ‘Coffee?’ she asked as she went to pour herself some.

  ‘Please,’ Devon answered.

  ‘No thank you,’ I said. My stomach wasn’t feeling good enough to feed it caffeine.

  She brought over two Styrofoam cups and sat one in front of Devon. I noticed she had given his to him black, without asking. I guess she would know that about him, though, since they spent time together on his parents’ case.

  She clutched her cup in front of her. ‘So, what do you have for me?’

  Devon nodded toward me. ‘Elle, show her.’

  I pulled the baggie out of my purse which held the typed note and slid it over to the detective. ‘I found this on the windshield of my car last night.’

  She read it, then her eyes blazed as she stared at Devon. ‘Why would someone threaten her to stop investigating?’

  Devon looked appropriately chastised. ‘I know. I shouldn’t have let her get involved.’

  Detective Vargas rubbed her forehead. ‘Start from the beginning. How involved is she, and who knows you’re working for Ira Craft?’

  Devon sat back in his chair; his dark, broody mood getting even darker. ‘The only thing Elle’s done so far is attend a Botox party at Robert Green’s house to see how easy it was to get a hold of a bottle of the stuff. Because …’ He pulled the crushed bottle from his pocket. He had placed that in a baggie also. ‘Elle ran over this in the parking garage where Celeste had a parking space just a few feet away.’

  Detective Vargas accepted the baggie. ‘When did you find this, Elle?’

  Oops. I glanced at Devon cautiously. He pursed his lips and then nodded. I turned back to the detective. ‘The night Celeste was killed.’

  She shot Devon another angry look. ‘And we’re just getting this now? Over two weeks later?’

  He kept silent but met her stare.

  She shook her head. ‘So, you’re thinking someone else could have administered the Botox in the parking garage?’

  ‘Yes.’ Devon sipped his coffee.

  ‘Pretty thin. Why would someone do that? To frame Dr Craft?’ She sighed and seemed to soften. From fatigue or empathy, I couldn’t tell. ‘Well, that’s one thing I know Detective Farnsworth is concentrating on right now, the timeline. And to be perfectly frank with you, the detective isn’t convinced this was negligence, considering the reputation Dr Craft has as an excellent plastic surgeon. He thinks he has something to prove intent. Do you know what that means?’

  I shook my head no, but it couldn’t be good.

  ‘It means if he has found a solid motive, the charges will be upgraded from involuntary manslaughter to murder. And Florida does have the death penalty.’ Her eyebrows rose to punctuate the seriousness of Ira’s situation.

  I felt my face drain and tried not to think about the lawsuit Celeste had planned against him. ‘But, he didn’t do anything wrong!’

  Detective Vargas ignored my outburst and instead stared thoughtfully into her coffee cup before sliding her gaze back to me. ‘Elle, I don’t mean this to be disrespectful, but what exactly is your relationship with Dr Craft?’

  It dawned on me that she may think I was romantically involved with Ira. ‘Oh, his wife, Hope, is like a sister to me. Since eighth g
rade,’ I added quickly. ‘I was maid of honor at their wedding. Ira is a sweet guy, detail orientated and cautious to a fault. I know he didn’t do this.’ I pushed down the frustration and tears that came all too easily these days.

  ‘So, you would do anything to help prove he didn’t kill Celeste Green?’

  ‘Yes.’ My eyes widened when I realized what she may be implying. ‘I mean no … not anything. I certainly wouldn’t make up a story about running over that bottle.’ I motioned to the baggie in her hand. I could see the calculating going on behind her eyes and realized her petite frame and easy smile probably came in handy when she wanted people to underestimate her. ‘Besides, the note proves someone is afraid of us finding out the truth, and Ira couldn’t have put it there since he’s been arrested and is in jail.’

  ‘Ira was released on bail yesterday afternoon.’

  Her words hit me like a horse kick to the chest. ‘What?’ Why didn’t Hope call me?

  ‘Salma,’ Devon’s voice held a warning. ‘Elle did not fabricate evidence.’

  The detective shifted her attention to Devon. ‘From my point of view, you’ve brought me two things, which could’ve very easily been fabricated, from the friend of our suspect. I’m sorry, Devon—’ she turned to me – ‘and Ms Pressley, but I can’t see either item helping Dr Craft be cleared of charges.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘I do, however, want to treat the note as a threat to be on the safe side. Please tell me who would know you’ve been investigating.’

  I sighed, suddenly very tired. ‘When I was at the Botox party, Robert Green sort of caught me going through some of Celeste’s boxes. So, he may have figured it out. Then, of course, he could have mentioned it to his fiancé and Celeste’s arch enemy, Zebina. We also just talked to Billie Olsen, Celeste’s best friend. Billie was actually in love with Celeste and was rejected by her shortly before Celeste was killed. So, I suppose she could have suspected we were digging for information, if she were guilty. She seemed genuinely upset about Celeste’s death but Devon seems to think anyone is capable of a crime of passion.’ I shot him a doubtful look.

 

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