Hardheaded Brunette

by Diane Bator

  Mena's store, Healing Spirit Gift Shop, stood between a fabric store and the tattoo parlor which had animal skulls and bamboo blinds half-covering the front window. Someone had painted the Healing Spirit storefront black with bright purple trim. The front door stood open wide and the scent of acrylic paint and incense hit Gilda in a stifling wave.

  "Hello?" Gilda fanned away the fumes as she peered inside the store, surprised to see Mena on a ladder rolling paint onto one wall.

  She glanced at the bare black shelves and dozens of plain brown boxes that filled the center of the store. Toward the front of the store sat a black granite-topped counter adorned with glittering purple and blue tiles all the way around. The front windows were dusty and grimy but bare, and someone had already painted the hardwood floors black.

  To Gilda, it seemed an odd choice of colors to attract customers off the street. She hoped Mena had something amazing to put in her window display.

  "Hey." Mena flinched. "What are you doing here?"

  "Kane mentioned where you were setting up your new shop so I thought I'd check the place out." Gilda smiled as a shiver crept up her arm. "You have a nice location. I imagine the rent here must be crazy."

  "That's none of your business. So you and Kane are suddenly buddy-buddy. Interesting." Her hands dotted with paint, Mena pushed a strand of dark hair out of her face with her forearm. "Be honest. The only reason you're here is to make sure I am nowhere near Mick."

  Gilda sighed at Mena's defensiveness. "Look, I know Charlie was a friend of yours, and I just wanted to pass on my condolences. What did I ever do to you anyway?"

  "Nothing." She set her roller in a paint tray and wiped pale purple flecks off her hands.

  Gilda took a bracing breath. "How well did you know him? Charlie, I mean."

  Mena snorted. "What does my relationship to Charlie matter? You didn't even know the guy."

  Gilda's face warmed and she averted her gaze.

  "Oh, wait." Mena slapped her forehead with one palm, leaving a few spots of paint behind. "I forgot. You're Sherlock. Isn't that what Mick calls you?"

  Gilda fought the urge to run out the front door. "Yeah, he does."

  "You're the nosy girl who tried to track down the last killer who came to town." She rolled her eyes. "Good luck solving this one, Sherlock. Charlie Hunt might have had great PR people, but the guy had more enemies than theatres have popcorn. If you want a list, you'll have to get it from that cute cop friend of yours."

  Thayer. Gilda winced. She'd probably get a straighter answer from Kane.

  Mena scowled. "Now, if you don't mind, there's the door. There's a lot of stress involved in opening a new business and trying to juggle life and classes around that. I don't have time for unwanted guests today."

  Gilda let Mena's rudeness slide and tried a different approach. "Yeah, I know. I've worked with Mick and Razi to move the school and rebuild a whole new business."

  "Oh, lucky you." The words dripped like acid from Mena's tongue.

  "I didn't mean that in a bad way." Gilda groaned. "I just meant I had people to work with to make things easier. I didn't have to do everything on my own like you have."

  Apparently unconvinced of Gilda's sincerity, Mena shook her head then turned away and picked up a paintbrush. "Any other little gems of wisdom you'd like to share before I kick you out of my store?"

  Gilda backed away, stopping to examine a small box of crystals someone had removed from a larger box. She imagined Mena had wanted to examine her new merchandise, but they seemed out of place, as if someone had planted them in plain sight in case anyone came to snoop. Cripes. There she was being suspicious for no real reason but gut instinct.

  She returned the box of crystals to where she'd found them. "I didn't come to start a fight. I was just curious to see your new store."

  "And now you've seen it." Mena slapped a gob of paint on the wall near Gilda's head. Close enough to splatter purple paint on Gilda's shirt. I'll let you know when I have my grand opening so you can come back to snoop some more. Maybe even bring your nosy friend. Have a nice day."

  With her shoulders slumped, Gilda backed out the door. The second she was outside Mena slammed the door in her face and turned the lock. It seemed something was going on with Mena that went far beyond the stress of starting a new business. Gilda guessed her irritation had more to do with Charlie's death than anything else. They had seemed pretty chummy at the party. Just how well had Mena known Charlie? Probably as well as she knew Mick.

  Gilda's stomach clenched as she returned to the beach. She really didn't want to know how good of friends Mick and Mena had been.

  Suddenly, she had a strong urge to go back to the place where Charlie Hunt died. She walked off the boardwalk along Ponderer's Point and headed for a spot near the thick dune grass.

  As the strong wind off the lake buffeted her hard enough to make her stagger in the shifting sand, she guessed the gulls had probably stolen any physical evidence the police might have left behind. What they'd all missed, the oncoming rainstorm would deal with shortly. Her window of sleuthing opportunity would last only until the clouds reached the shore and the heavens opened up on Sandstone Cove.

  She bowed her head to focus on anything that seemed out of place. Crews from the town plowed the beach nightly. She'd discovered Charlie's body in the wee hours of dawn, long after the grounds crews had wiped away the events of the day, which meant Charlie's murder took place on a clean slate. Was that why someone had killed him? Were they trying to get a clean slate to start over?

  As the dune grasses whispered around her, she kept watch for anything they might reveal—aside from the collage of footprints and a dent where his body…

  Gilda's knees buckled and she sank into the shifting sand. Cripes. She hadn't even known the man, and yet her heart raced as tears filled her eyes. Mick and Razi had worked with Charlie for years. Maybe that's why she was out here. To help them find closure.

  The storm would strike soon. She'd be smart to go home and brew a pot of tea in case the power went out.

  The wind blew a clump of grass by the large rocks of the point nearly straight over. As the blades stood up in the storm's brief inhale, something glittered in the last of the sunlight. On a hunch, Gilda took a closer look. A small bit of chain stuck out from between two large rocks. She snaked her fingers into the opening and pulled out Charlie's necklace. The three-inch gold ingot that had hung around his neck the night before at the reception was now debris between the rocks of the jetty.

  Gilda wrapped it in a clean tissue and tucked it into her pocket as the first fat drops of rain began to fall. How had the crime scene people missed finding Charlie's necklace? Her only logical conclusion was that someone tossed it there after she'd found Charlie's body. Had the killer returned to the scene of the crime? She shuddered and looked around her as the rain pelted down.

  "What on earth are you doing out here?" Gary yelled from the shelter of his car. "Get in. I'll take you home."

  Gilda sprinted across the sand to the parking lot and climbed inside his Buick. "Thanks. I didn't think the storm would reach the shore so soon."

  He snorted. "Honey, you've lived in this town long enough to know better than that. Where am I taking you? Home or to the Phoenix?"

  "Home." She turned up the heat. "No, wait, the school. I need to grab the laptop since the school's closed today, and I have some chores to do. I've neglected the house over the past couple weeks, but there are still a few things I have to finish up at work that I can do from home."

  "Please tell me those chores include looking for a new job." Gary grunted. "I don't like the way dead bodies keep popping up around you."

  "You're being ridiculous."

  "Am I?" He raised his bushy eyebrows and drove her to the school. "I didn't think you had Internet access at home."

  Gilda winced. "Sort of. My next-door neighbor has Wi-Fi. Sometimes I use it for a few minutes if I need to look something up or send e-mails."

 
; "That's stealing."

  "Not if he gave me his password."

  Gary chuckled. "Willingly, or did he let it slip one day because you were being charming?"

  "Willingly."

  The mess left scattered through the school from the grand opening still hadn't magically disappeared but would wait for morning. Something about the disorder in the building made her cringe. She scurried around the front desk and grabbed the laptop bag then made sure to lock the door before she hustled back to Gary's car.

  He not only drove her home but also followed her to the front door and insisted he search her small house. "I'm just looking out for you. A young lady can't be too careful these days, especially…"

  When his words trailed off, she finished his sentence, "Especially a nosy one like me. Is there something about Charlie's death you're not telling me?"

  "Yes." Gary averted his gaze and checked the lock on her front door. "Stay inside out of the rain, and have a good evening."

  "Wait." Gilda hesitated. "What do you know about Charlie Hunt?"

  He smirked. "I know he was both a brilliant man and a bad man and you should be glad you didn't know him. While I didn't know him that well personally, I've heard enough to curl your pretty hair into ringlets. The farther you stay out of this case, the better off you'll be. He has some very high-powered friends."

  He darted back out to his car and slammed the door. As he drove off down the street, Gilda watched his taillights disappear into the storm. Across the street, a second vehicle started and slipped into the darkness behind Gary's car.

  She closed the door and wandered to the laptop Mick had bought for when she had to take work home. As she sat at the table, she pulled the carefully wrapped necklace from her pocket. The pendant was much lighter than it had first appeared. Certainly not real gold. When she turned it over, two slits were cut along the edges of the back. She slid the middle section open to reveal a small gold key.

  Her heart leaped into her throat. "Too small for a safe deposit box. It looks almost like a padlock key."

  The lights flickered as she plugged in her kettle then turned the laptop on at the kitchen table. Gilda made her cup of tea and began to search for images of the key she'd found. While it was definitely a padlock key, it could belong to any lock, anywhere. Both the lights and the laptop screen flickered. The laptop screen darkened slightly, but remained glowing. If the power went out and the laptop was fully charged, she'd have about a half hour before the battery died.

  Rather than stare at the glowing screen in the dark, she unplugged the laptop, careful to put it away in the attaché case, then tucked the necklace in the back of her cutlery drawer until she could get to the police station in the morning after the storm. She was halfway across the room when the lights went out again. "Good timing."

  She shuffled her way across the room and stuffed the attaché case in the linen closet. Just as she straightened up, she thought she saw a flash of light in her backyard. She waited for several seconds, but no thunder followed.

  Another flash of light came from near the shed, but still no thunder.

  Gilda turned off her flashlight and pressed her nose to the back door window. No more flashes of light. Nothing but rain and darkness. She backed away from the door and curled up on one end of the couch beneath a fluffy blanket with her cell phone. What was she so afraid of?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The rain ended sometime during the night while Gilda slept curled in a ball on one end of the couch, a flashlight clutched in her hand. By the time she awoke near five, her legs and back had stiffened so much she could hardly get up. At least the lack of sleep during the storm had given her time to think about Charlie Hunt's murder. One of her errands that morning was to find Marion and ask if she'd overheard anything during her shift as a 9-1-1 operator at the police station. Hopefully Marion would have a little more insight than Gilda.

  By the time Gilda made a smoothie for breakfast, drank half a pot of coffee, and arrived at Marion's house, her friend waited on the front porch with a bright red mug and a dark scowl. "Hey. It's about time you got here."

  Gilda's stomach sank. "Did I wake you when I texted earlier?"

  "Nope." Marion gulped her coffee. "Your buddy Gary woke me first."

  "Gary?" She flinched. "Why would he call you?"

  Marion wagged a finger for Gilda to follow her into the house. They walked on the squeaky hardwood floors past the wooden staircase and into the warm country kitchen. The muscles in Marion's cheeks twitched while she poured a second cup of coffee.

  "What's going on?" Gilda finally asked. "Is everything okay?"

  Marion sucked in a long breath. "Gary showed up to ask me a bunch of questions about Mildred Palmer. You know, that crazy lady that used to call 9-1-1 every time she heard noises and kept getting her kids and half the neighbors arrested. Did you know she used to live in your house?"

  "Yes."

  "Did you also know she died there?"

  Gilda shook her head. "No, she didn't. The real estate agent said Mildred slipped and fell in the house then died in the hospital a few hours later."

  "Nuh-uh." Marion's eyes widened. "She slipped, fell, and died right there in the kitchen. Some people even think she was murdered. Do you really think a real estate agent's going to tell you up front that your house is haunted?"

  "Is that what Gary stopped by for?" Gilda huffed. "He came to tell you my house is haunted."

  Marion folded her arms beneath her ample chest. "Did you know Mildred Palmer was Charlie's grandmother?"

  "Yeah, so I've heard."

  "Did you also know Kane was accused of juicing and banned from professional fighting?" Marion asked.

  "No, I didn't." Gilda took her coffee to the kitchen table and sat. "Kane failed a drug test? When was this?"

  Marion snorted. "A couple years ago. Does that really surprise you? Look at the guy, he's a hot muscle head. Razi told me Kane's got the temper of a Tasmanian devil."

  Gilda stared into her mug. "Why didn't Kane mention it?"

  "Getting caught doping isn't exactly one of those things people blurt out at parties."

  "I guess."

  "Either way, I've given up on Kane," Marion said. "He's not the kind of guy I'd want to have babies with. He's too much like a big kid."

  After two large cups of coffee, Gilda left her friend to get some rest and headed home with a bad case of the jitters. She spied Thayer's car parked in front of her house from two blocks away and frowned. Both Thayer and Fabio stood on her front porch. Part of her wanted to run over and tell them to get lost. Instead, she quickened her pace to see what they wanted.

  Thayer rapped on her door and called her name. When she didn't answer, he took a few steps back, lowered his head, and took aim.

  She ran up the sidewalk in time to stop Thayer from breaking down her front door. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

  "You moved the spare key." He shrugged.

  She snorted. "I had to. People kept using my spare key to break into my house. I thought it best not to keep one outside anymore."

  Fabio held up a hand and pushed between them. When he gave the front door a nudge, it opened wide on its own. "It would seem someone didn't really need a key, though."

  Thayer drew his gun. "Who'd you piss off this time, Gilda?"

  "Me? I didn't do anything."

  "Yeah, I'll bet." Thayer rolled his eyes. "This time, anyway."

  Fabio sighed and shoved Thayer inside first. "Clear the scene already."

  "The scene?" Gilda grabbed Fabio's arm. "First you guys give me a fake search warrant, now you're treating my house like a crime scene? Are you serious?"

  Thayer's voice came from inside the house. "You want us to back off and let you deal with this mess by yourself?"

  Gilda flinched. "It's not that bad, I just haven't had time to clean lately."

  "All clear," Thayer called out.

  As Fabio began to enter her tiny house, he turned and steered her bac
k outside. "The good news is there's no one inside. The bad news is you have a lot of cleaning up to do later."

  "It's not that bad." She pushed past him and flung the door open then froze at the sight of the scattered papers, cushions, and books that littered the floor. At least nothing appeared broken. Her heart raced. She'd had to deal with crime scenes before, just not in her home. "Oh wow."

  The sight of her belongings strewn around carelessly sent a shudder through her. "I suppose you have to call in forensics to dust for prints. They'll make an even bigger mess."

  "It will help us figure out who searched your house." Fabio held her back from entering. "Gut feeling says it's related to Charlie's murder or you finding his body."

  "Maybe," Gilda whispered.

  "Did you touch anything when you found him?" Fabio asked.

  "Eww, no!"

  Thayer returned from his search of the house. "I hate to say this, but you might be better off staying with Mick or Marion until we figure out who did this."

  Gilda shook her head. "Chances are whoever was here already found what they're looking for and won't be back to bother me anymore."

  Thayer met her gaze. "What if they didn't?"

  "I'm not going to start thinking that way." She sank onto the porch swing. "What could someone possibly be looking for? Do you think Charlie hid something here before his grandma died? Or even before he died?"

  "That's possible." Fabio hesitated. "I'll call in the forensics guys. They can do a sweep."

  Gilda shook her head. "No, don't. I'll just clean the mess and see if anything else weird happens. Maybe it was just someone who thought Charlie still lived here and wanted a souvenir."

  Thayer scowled. "That doesn't make me feel any better about leaving you here alone. At the very least, let us take a good look around. I have a fingerprint kit. I'll see if I can find anything, then pass it on to forensics. Is that acceptable?"