by Lori Woods
From her expression, you’d think that someone had killed Karen’s puppy. This fact didn’t escape Erica’s notice, and she rolled her eyes dramatically at her assistant’s theatrics.
“This is going to make me look so bad,” Erica sighed, falling back into the throw pillows and throwing her arm over her eyes as if to shield herself from the light. Clary and Marie exchanged amused glances.
“That was creepy,” Clary agreed, sitting down on the floor and crossing her legs.
“You think so?”
“Definitely,” she nodded resolutely. “It crossed more than a few boundaries.”
“He’s always doing that,” Erica said softly, “but everyone thinks it’s romance.”
“I don’t think stalking and romance should be confused,” Clary shook her head. “If it’s making you uncomfortable, then it’s not romantic anymore.”
“But it’s a big gesture!” Karen protested.
“So is burning down the salon.”
“That’s different,” Karen pouted.
“How? According to that logic, all he has to do is say that he did it for love.”
Chapter 7
“Okay,” Clary gestured to the piles of papers in front of her. “Let’s recap, shall we?”
“We know nothing.”
“I’d appreciate a little more positivity, Marie.” She held up a piece of paper as she spoke. “We know that Salome had a motive and the means.”
“But she was at the police station when the flyers went out, and no one can connect her to Spooky.”
“Everyone suspects Erica,” Clary continued, holding up a different piece of paper.
“She has a motive and was also in the police station. There’s also no way she knew about Spooky being there. Say what you want about her, but she can’t act. No one could act that good.”
“Then there’s creepy Philip who would do anything to get Erica back.”
“That’s a good one,” Marie conceded, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “We could probably find out where he was last night. No problem. Everyone wants to gossip about what happened. Why not give them the chance?”
“You guys!” Logan announced, walking into the shop with a concerned expression. “Where’s Erica?”
“She and Karen are busy talking to the insurance guy. Erica’s going to hold him hostage until she gets her money. We’re looking forward to the showdown when the police arrive.”
“Look at this,” he said, ignoring Marie’s statement. “Another email from TSK.”
“What is it this time?” Clary asked curiously. “And where have you been?”
“I’ll tell you later, but trust me, it was worth it. Here, read it.”
Clary gave him an incredulous look before taking the phone and reading through their fourth TSK message that day. This was the most active their stalker had ever been. Clary shuddered as a shiver ran down her spine. By the end of it all, things would be very different. She only hoped that she’d be ready for all the change that was coming their way. Ready or not, it was coming.
Bankrupt and desperate.
Where would a businesswoman hide the evidence?
Check under her floorboards.
The group went silent after Clary finished reading the message out loud.
“It’s obviously about Erica,” Logan was the first to break the silence. He chewed on his bottom lip while he waited for a response. Clary took a moment to forward the message to her phone. “This isn’t the first reference to her financial situation.”
“Yes, but everyone knows about her financial situation, wouldn’t it be stupid of her to burn down her own salon? I don’t like her. You all know that, but surely even she wouldn’t be so stupid?”
“Desperate people do strange things,” Logan shrugged, but Marie shook her head.
“I don’t agree. It’s too obvious. The woman is on the verge of a meltdown. If she burned down her own salon then she’d be gloating about all the money she’s going to get.”
“Isn’t she already doing that?” Clary pointed out.
“I think TSK is playing with us,” Marie ignored Clary’s question and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Or maybe they don’t know as much as they say they do and they’re just figuring things out as they go.”
“What?” Logan asked, staring at Clary in confusion.
“Yes, what?”
“Look, we’re assuming that TSK is all-knowing. How do we know that? They’ve never done anything but send us vague statements. What if this TSK person is just getting the back end of some gossip, and wants to seem smarter than they are?”
“They’ve always been right though,” Logan pointed out.
“Yes, after we know what’s going on. Look at how vague they are. They could be interpreted in so many ways. The businesswoman? That could be Erica. Or it could be a businesswoman down the road who’s actually going bankrupt.”
“Let’s test that out,” Marie suggested. “You can pick locks, can’t you? And Erica’s going to be busy for hours still. There are three of us, one can keep a lookout while the others search for the evidence.”
“Marie,” Logan said seriously. “I like the way you think.”
“What do you think?”
Clary hesitated a moment before rereading the message. She was tired of taunting messages and self-satisfied clues. In her mind, she imagined the stalker watching everyone panic with a self-satisfied smirk on his or her face.
“I regret telling you that I can pick a lock.”
It didn’t take them long to find Erica’s house. It was a pretty two-bedroom house on the edge of town. Her lawn was well-kept and it was clear that she took pride in keeping a clean house.
“This isn’t what I was expecting,” Marie admitted.
“What did you think? That she lived in a cave or something?”
“Honestly? Yes.”
“What are you three doing here?” Sanchez barked, causing Clary to jump up in fright.
“Erica asked me to get some more paper for her flyers,” Logan lied smoothly, putting a hand on Clary’s arm to calm her down. Or warn her to stay quiet. Either way, she did both.
“What are you doing here?” Marie asked curiously, tilting her head as she looked at him. Her thick blonde hair all fell to one side, and she almost looked comical.
“That’s Spooky’s house,” Ben said cheerfully, popping up from behind the car and pointing to the house across from Erica’s. The two houses were polar opposites. Where Erica’s was lovingly cared for, Spooky’s was falling apart.
“What did I say?” Sanchez asked angrily, turning on his deputy.
“That this is a need-to-know mission,” Ben mumbled sheepishly.
“As in they don’t need to know!” Sanchez yelled.
“Oh, come on, Sanchez,” Marie scoffed, “don’t be a cliché.”
“Just go find your flyers,” he said dismissively, shooing them away.
They walked up to the front door, conscious of the fact that Sanchez was watching them suspiciously. Clary’s heart was beating in her throat as she reached for the doorknob. She wouldn’t be able to pick the lock while Sanchez watched them. It suddenly occurred to her that he might not be so forgiving of the fact that she had accused his daughter of arson.
She closed her eyes tightly, but to her surprise the door opened when she turned the handle. No one said anything until they were in the house and the door was closed behind them.
“Are you getting better? Or did Erica leave the door open?” Logan asked slowly.
“She’s not that good,” Marie said immediately. “Maybe Erica was so preoccupied with the fire that she never locked the door behind her?”
“What are you doing here?” a shrill voice asked in alarm.
“Or,” Clary muttered to herself as she turned to face the blonde woman who walked out of the kitchen, “her friend is still here.”
“Erica asked us to come fetch some paper for her flyers?” Logan said, but he was less conf
ident now and the statement came out like a question.
“You must be Tammy-Lynn,” Clary said quickly, stepping in front of Logan. “Erica told us about you. She said you were sleeping over here last night and could vouch for her?”
“Why? Is she in trouble or something?” Tammy-Lynn asked suspiciously.
“No, she just needs an alibi for last night,” Clary assured her. “Don’t worry. We all think she’s innocent.”
“Obviously,” Tammy-Lynn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I can vouch for her. Is that all?”
“I don’t recognize you,” Marie said suddenly, stepping forward. “Are you new in town?”
“Yeah, I’m crashing with some friends until I hear about some auditions I did in the city. Erica said it’s cool if I stay here for a little while.”
“How long are you going to stay?”
“I don’t know,” Tammy-Lynn shrugged. “I’ll stay until I get the news about my auditions.”
“What did you audition for?” Logan asked curiously. As soon as he stepped forward, Tammy-Lynn’s eyes lit up appreciatively and she smiled sweetly at him. Clary and Marie shared a mischievous look.
“Why don’t you tell Logan all about it?” Clary suggested. “Marie and I will look for that paper Erica was talking about.”
“Sure,” Tammy-Lynn shrugged. “Her art supplies are in the hall closet.”
Clary made sure to give him a wink before abandoning him. He shook his head in amusement, but dutifully sat down and listened to Tammy-Lynn talk all about her budding acting career.
“I don’t see any floorboards,” Marie said as they walked down the hall.
Erica had decorated all her floors with a distinct fluffy carpet. It was pastel blue and made one feel as though they were walking on a cloud. It was a strange choice, but it worked well with her eclectic taste. Although, Clary thought, it must be a nightmare trying to keep the carpet both clean and fluffy.
“There must be a room without all this carpet,” Clary said with a smile, “or maybe TSK wasn’t talking about her.”
“Maybe,” Marie shrugged, “but I think you’re wrong.”
“You’d need proof to say something like that.”
“Here’s my proof,” she announced, swinging a door open to reveal Marie’s guestroom. Tammy-Lynn’s belongings were strewn all about, almost completely covering the beautiful wooden floorboards.
“I said there must be a room without a carpet,” Clary said defensively.
“You check this one, and I’ll see if there are any other floorboards to look at.”
Clary took a moment to look around before slowly and methodically stepping on each board. She took care not to mess up any of Tammy-Lynn’s things, but she doubted that the bubbly blonde would notice anything amiss in the mess. She took her time and stepped on every board, but none of them were loose. When she made it to the other end of the room, she noticed an assortment of pictures.
Most of them were taken in the salon, and in each one, Erica was smiling proudly. Clary felt a pang in her chest. Erica was proud of her salon, she put it on display for everyone to see.
“Look what I found,” Marie said triumphantly, walking in with a black duffel bag.
“Where did you find that?” Clary asked curiously.
“In her room, but that’s not even the best part. Look,” Marie held the bag open for Clary to see. “She did it. I bet she killed Spooky because he caught her in the act.” The bag was filled to the brim with all sorts of questionable materials. Heavy-duty rope, various flammable liquids, and several lighters, matches, and the like.
“Wait,” Clary took out her phone, “look here.” She showed Marie the picture she’d taken earlier that day. “Doesn’t it look familiar?”
“But…” Marie looked at the picture then at the bag. “That’s exactly the same.”
“Is it just me, or are all the local beauticians becoming serial arsonists?”
“Where did you take that?”
“It was the bag in Salome’s car. I don’t think either of them knew that they had the bag.”
“Are you saying that someone framed them?”
“Think about it, why would either of them have this level of equipment in their house or car?” Clary picked up the first item in the bag. “What is this? A Molotov cocktail? What on earth?” She aimed her camera at the bag and snapped a quick picture.
“Okay,” Marie grumbled. “I get your point. I don’t think Erica would even know where to get half this stuff.”
“You guys!” Logan called. “You need to hear this!”
The two women exchanged glances before rushing toward the front room. Marie stopped quickly to stuff the duffel bag into the hall closet, knocking a few things over in the process.
“What is it?” Clary asked, trying to look innocent.
“Tell them what you told me,” Logan prompted a confused-looking Tammy-Lynn.
“I said that Erica didn’t really know Spooky. But he was always with this weird-looking guy. They were there last night.”
“Do you know what the weird guy’s name is?”
“No, but I could probably show you if I saw him. Ask Erica. They were causing all sorts of trouble last night. Hold on, I think he’s Karen’s brother or something. She looked super embarrassed when he came in. Poor girl. She’s actually such a sweetheart. He wouldn’t leave us alone all night.”
“Josh?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy.”
“You know,” Clary said thoughtfully. “We’ve been looking at Spooky’s murder as though it was a consequence of the fire. Like he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. But what if the fire was a consequence of Spooky’s murder?”
“Are you saying that someone tried to cover up his murder by starting a fire?”
Chapter 8
“Where can we find out more about Josh without raising too many suspicions?” Clary asked when they walked out of Erica’s house. Logan was still trying to say goodbye to Tammy-Lynn, but she wasn’t too interested in letting him leave.
Eventually, he just waved at her and walked out the door. Unfortunately, he was so preoccupied with trying to get out that he accidentally walked into a rocking chair on the porch and dropped his phone.
“You should be more careful,” Clary teased, bending down to pick it up.
“No, don’t…”
He reached out to stop her, but it was too late. She held up his phone with a puzzled look, then showed him the screen with a questioning glance. Marie frowned at the screen and took it.
“What’s this?” she asked, referring to the loading screen. There were several dialog boxes open, and something else was busy running in the background. It looked less like a smartphone and more like something out of a hacker movie.
“It’s a surprise,” he said cryptically, taking his phone back. “Trust me, it’s going to be worth it.”
“Didn’t find any paper?” Sanchez asked, walking up to the porch with his hands in his pockets. Ben was nowhere to be seen, so it was safe to assume that Sanchez had sent him off on some minor errand.
“Didn’t find anything on Spooky?” Marie quipped smartly.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Logan said suddenly, frowning at his phone. “I need to check something at the store.”
“Wait, why don’t we go with you? I need to get back to the café and check on my ribs. I don’t trust Loki,” Marie gave Clary a sideways glance, which she promptly ignored.
“I’m not getting rid of my cat.”
“I never said you had to.”
“You were thinking it. My cat is more important than your ribs.”
“Take that back.”
“Actually,” Sanchez said loudly, interrupting their argument. “I need to talk to Clary. Why don’t you guys go on ahead and I’ll take her home when we’re done?”
Marie hesitated and gave Clary a questioning glance. Clary also paused, but then nodded her head.
“Okay, let’s go,” Logan said impa
tiently, walking over to his car. Marie hesitated again, looking between the chief and Clary, but then she nodded and walked off.
“It’s so nice to spend time with you, Chief,” Clary said with a mischievous smile. “We hardly ever get to talk anymore.”
“Do you have any new evidence or not?” Chief asked gruffly.
“Cutting right to the chase,” Clary said with a laugh.
“We got into Spooky’s house, but we didn’t find much.”
“That’s strange. I heard he was the resident drug dealer. Shouldn’t there be packages of drugs all over the place?”
“Do you think this is a movie or something?” Chief asked incredulously. “No, we didn’t find any drugs. He probably has a safehouse or workspace around here somewhere. Now, I’ll ask again, do you have any new evidence?”
Chief Sanchez shifted his weight from one leg to the other and put his hands in his pockets as he spoke. Clary looked around and noticed that Tammy-Lynn was peeking at them through the curtains and that a neighbor was lingering at the trash can at the end of their driveway.
“I think we need a little more privacy, don’t you?”
He looked around and nodded slowly.
“You’re right. Let’s go.”
When Clary got into the car, she looked around curiously. She’d never really been in a police car before. A part of her wanted to sit in the back so that she could see what it would feel like. Unfortunately, Sanchez didn’t look like he was in the mood to indulge her request. They drove wordlessly for a while before Sanchez parked in the parking lot of a playground. It was a Saturday, so the playground was full of playing children and watching parents.
“How is this more private?” she asked incredulously.
“The parents will think I’m on patrol, and they’ll feel safer with us here. I’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone.”
“That makes sense. Okay, so Erica has an alibi. She says she was out with friends last night and that one came over to her house afterwards. I managed to confirm that with Tammy-Lynn.”
“I already know all that,” Sanchez pointed out. “I’m going to need something else here. And preferably not about my daughter.”