Frosted Shadow - A Toni Diamond Mystery

by Nancy Warren

  He nodded. “People do crazy things when they lose perspective. You’d be surprised. Or, maybe those women were randomly selected. Wrong place, wrong time. One sold Lady Bianca, the other had a Lady Bianca makeover. Could be some crazy who hates Lady Bianca. Maybe a former employee. If customers and sales reps start dying it’s going to hurt the reputation of the company.”

  “Well, if you go with the random selection theory, then maybe it’s not Lady Bianca being targeted. But the hotel. The manager looked ill when I saw him earlier. What do you think this is going to do to the Weymouth’s business?”

  He stuck his hand back in his pocket and jingled the change he seemed to keep there for no other purpose. “We’ll see an exodus of guests and a lot of cancelled bookings once word gets out. Could be an ex-employee of the hotel looking for revenge. We’ll be checking into all employees and former employees, especially any who’ve been fired recently.”

  She swallowed. It felt like a marshmallow had lodged in her throat. “Or maybe there’s a serial killer staying in the hotel.” It was that thought that had made her too scared to go to her room alone.

  “Random serial killers are much rarer than you’d think. You’ll lock up behind me. You’ll be okay.”

  “Do you think there will be more murders?”

  He looked at her, his eyes dark and intense and she realized he was angry. Probably at himself for not having caught the murderer yet. “I hope not.”

  They were almost at her door. “Like I said, try not to think about it if you can.”

  “What kind of trucks?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The trucks you work on when you can’t sleep. What kind are they?”

  “Right now I’m working on a 1949 Chevy 6400, 2-ton. I’ve rebuilt the engine, now I’m working on the chassis.”

  “What color is it?”

  His grin lit up his face. He didn’t smile enough, she decided. He looked younger and definitely sexy. Even when the humor was at her expense. “That is such a girl question.”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I am a girl.”

  In the dim lighting in the corridor his eyes were darker than sin. “Oh, I noticed.” For a moment they stood there staring at each other.

  Her heart hammered, but in a good way this time.

  Then he pulled in a breath. “It’s red. G’night.”

  “Good night.” She opened her door and entered her room, knowing he was watching to make sure she got inside all right.

  And maybe for other reasons.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Beauty to me is about being comfortable in your own skin. That or a kick-ass red lipstick. —Gwyneth Paltrow

  The glowing numbers on the clock taunted Toni until, in frustration, she stuck a pillow over the thing. Not that it was the light from the clock keeping her awake. There was plenty of light in her room since she was too scared to sleep in the dark. Every time she turned off all the lights she replayed the scene in the bathroom.

  The horror of her discovery was still fresh but underneath the horror was a burning anger. Who killed Nicole? And why?

  She hadn’t liked the woman, but she understood the fierce urge to succeed in Nicole because she was honest enough to recognize that same quality in herself. Nicole had cut a lot of corners and hadn’t always played fair, but she’d often been the person who spurred Toni on, a fact she was sure her rival didn’t know.

  When Toni felt too tired to send out a motivational email to her reps, when the thought of booking one extra party that month seemed like the last straw, she’d see Nicole’s face in front of her and she’d haul ass and do what had to be done.

  She hadn’t admired Nicole’s principles or tactics, but she respected her work ethic. And the spur of competition that kept her sharp.

  Who would kill her?

  Usually she loved having her own room at the conference, but tonight a roommate would have been welcome. Somebody who could keep her company and maybe take her mind off her grisly discovery.

  She flipped onto her back, then her side, then, with a huff, onto her front, but it was impossible. She got up and brewed the in-room coffee.

  While it was gurgling and sputtering, she got out her lavender day planner. Flipped open to the notes section. Took out the diamond-encrusted pen her mom had given her for her last birthday and clicked the top.

  She spent some time tapping the pen against the paper and got nothing for her trouble but a freckle-field of blue dots on the page. The only thing connecting the first murder and the second was that makeover. Stacy had given Amy Neuman her makeover. And Stacy had been very upset when Toni had seen her after lunch yesterday. But she sure didn’t seem like the murdering type. And if there was a reasonable motive for her to kill Nicole, what possible reason could she have for killing Amy Neuman?

  Because the woman gave a false name? Even if Stacy had been literary enough to figure out she’d been given a fake name by Amy, that happened to all of them from time to time. You shrugged and went on. You didn’t kill.

  However, for the moment, Stacy was the only still-living link between Nicole and Amy.

  Reluctantly, she wrote Stacy’s name on the top of her page. She couldn’t imagine Stacy as a cold-blooded killer, but then people always said that about cold-blooded killers, that they’d never seemed the type.

  Toni disfigured her page with a few more dots. Underlined Stacy’s name.

  Then she turned the page. Detective Marciano might not believe in coincidences. That was his business. And if he wanted to treat the two murders as related crimes that was his business also. Toni was sorry for the first young woman, but her involvement began with Nicole’s murder. She was under no obligation to consider the two deaths inseparably linked. She was an amateur detective. She could think whatever she wanted to.

  She wrote Nicole at the top of the clean page. Underlined the name neatly.

  Then she listed all of Nicole’s reps that she’d seen at the conference so far. She was certain Melody could furnish her with all the names. Maybe they could help her figure out who hated Nicole enough to want her dead.

  At last she simply sat in front of the window watching the freeway get busier as morning crept up on Corvallis. She wondered which direction Luke lived and if he was even home yet. And if so, was he out in his garage tinkering with his red 1949 Chevy truck?

  At 5:30 she flipped on the TV news. And groaned. The second murder was the top story.

  What a great birthday present for Lady Bianca. One of her top saleswomen was murdered and the media were knocking themselves out creating headlines that cleverly combined the words killer and cosmetics.

  She was particularly grateful for her cosmetics training as she stippled extra eye cream and then took a narrow, tapered brush and carefully trailed her thickest cream concealer over the circles under her eyes, careful to cover only the blue shadows. Concealer slapped all over the place tended to get cakey, and only drew attention to the circles.

  It was more than simple vanity causing her to take extra care to camouflage the signs of a nearly sleepless night. Pride had her spine stiffening and her eyes snapping. She’d had a night to shiver and whine, she told her reflection firmly. Today she was going on the offensive.

  She’d spent a lot of time while staring out the window wondering about those emails Nicole claimed she had received.

  The police would have their own methods of detection, of course, highly sophisticated ones. They also had experience and training in policing. But they didn’t know Lady Bianca the way she did. And she was going to use that inside knowledge to try and figure out what on earth was going on.

  Once she’d made up her mind about something, Toni wasn’t one to dawdle.

  She dressed in a red suit, went a little more dramatic than usual on her make up and swiped on her most confident red lipstick.

  A woman who was going to war needed full war paint.

  And coffee. A lot of coffee.

  She headed downstairs on
a caffeine-seeking missile.

  “Toni!”

  All Toni wanted was a cup of coffee. Just one inside her before she heard her name called in that desperate tone. She’d drunk the complimentary pot of coffee that came with the room between four and five a.m. That seemed like a long time ago now.

  She’d hoped that by sneaking down here at 6:30, the minute the coffee shop opened, she could refuel in relative peace.

  But she knew that voice. She turned and put on her best guess at a delighted expression. “Morning, Melody.”

  “I’m so glad you’re up early. I need someone to talk to.”

  “I didn’t sleep too well last night. I need coffee.”

  “I can imagine. I’m sick about it. Just sick. How could anyone do that to poor Nicole?”

  Icy claws pricked at Toni’s skin. “How did you know about Nicole?”

  Of course, that explained the outfit Melody was wearing. Where Toni had chosen defiant, no murderer is getting me down, red, Melody had gone with funereal black. The cheap fabric was pulling a little at the seams and emphasized Melody’s pallor.

  “It was on the news. I’m always up early. It’s the dairy farmer’s genes in me, I guess. My daddy always used to say, we could sleep in when the cows started sleeping in. Anyhow, I like to plan my day, visualize my goals and review my to-do list first thing. Then I get my hair done and my face on. I put the TV on while I was getting ready and I heard there’d been another murder here at the hotel.”

  “Killer Cosmetics Convention. I know. I can’t believe how fast the media gets hold of stories.”

  “They all have scanners and things. They eavesdrop on the police channel.”

  “But they didn’t give out her name.”

  “No. They didn’t say who was killed, only that the second suspicious death in a week had occurred right here at the hotel, during the Lady Bianca conference. So I ran down to Nicole’s room. I thought she’d want to know right away. I knocked on the door, and a policeman opened it.” Her voice wobbled and she bit her lip. “And that’s how I found out it was her.”

  Since it was obvious the woman was going to keep talking, Toni resumed walking toward the coffee shop and Melody stayed right with her.

  “I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stay in my room or I’d have gone crazy. So I came down here, and now I know that I was led here.”

  “Where’s your husband?”

  “He’s upstairs.” Her pretty face creased. “He’s upset. He wants us to pack up and go home.” She took an actual linen handkerchief from her bag and dabbed at her eyes. “We never fight, but we had words. He’s worried for my safety, I know that. But Nicole would have wanted me to go on.”

  They’d reached the coffee shop, thank goodness. And, as Toni had guessed, they were the first customers.

  “Morning ladies,” said a far too cheery waitress. “Sit anywhere and I’ll be right with you.”

  “Bring coffee. A whole pot.”

  “Coming right up.”

  “What am I going to do without her?” Melody wailed. “She’s been my mentor and my best friend. I –“

  “Thank you,” Toni said with real gratitude when their waitress arrived with a silver carafe of coffee. She poured the beautiful, black stream of Awake into the thick china cup in front of Toni. Then she filled Melody’s cup before placing the pot in the middle of the table and taking two menus from under her arm and planting them in front of the two women.

  Toni took a tongue-scalding sip of coffee before answering the woman across from her. “You were Nicole’s second-in-command, I know it’s going to be hard for you, but you’ve got to stay strong for the rest of the team. It’s what Nicole would want.”

  “I’m a wreck about Nicole and I’m so nervous around the police. They’re going to interview me, aren’t they?” She took a sip of coffee and then put the cup down with a clack. “I must be in shock. I don’t even drink coffee.”

  “It’s okay. Maybe you can even help the police solve her murder. You knew her better than anyone.”

  Melody picked up the menu and opened it. “I should get some tea. Some kind of herbal tea to calm the nerves.” Then she put the menu down again. Toni had never seen her so agitated.

  “And, of course, you were with Nicole last night.” She remembered seeing them at the crowded meeting area in the lobby.

  “That’s right. We went for dinner with the rest of our team last night. We got back around ten, I guess. I went straight up to my room.” She got the words out fast, almost as though waving an alibi in front of Toni.

  “Did Nicole go up with you?”

  “No. She said she had an errand to take care of.”

  Gooseflesh was breaking out all over Toni’s skin, she could feel it prickling like a mounting fever. Had her timing been only slightly off, she could have walked in on the murder in progress, and everybody knew what happened to the accidental witness. She shivered and drank more coffee. If only her brain wasn’t so fogged from shock and lack of sleep, maybe she could think more clearly.

  “Any idea what the errand was?”

  Melody caught the waitress’s attention and asked for cranberry tea with a slice of fresh lemon.

  “No. She didn’t say.”

  “Did you see where she went?”

  “No.” Melody polished the three pieces of silverware at her place with her napkin and replaced them carefully. “I saw her pull her cell phone out, though.”

  “Did she make a call or receive one?”

  Melody shook her head. “I turned my head to call out something to her but she was kind of far away. I just remember that she had her cell phone in her hand. Looked like she was getting ready to start talking on it.”

  “Hopefully the police can pull the records and find out who she called. And who called her.”

  Melody’s menu lost her attention suddenly. “Are you saying the police can know about all her calls?”

  “I think so.”

  Melody went so pale all of a sudden that her blush stood out in two perfectly symmetrical apples on her cheek bones. “Can they hear what we said? You know, like they say every email you ever send is out there somewhere. Is it the same with cell phone calls?”

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “Well, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but Nicole wasn’t exactly shy about giving her opinion. When we talked on the phone, sometimes she would say things about people – and I’d really be happy if no one ever had to hear those conversations. I mean, it’s not like I was bad-mouthing anyone, but you know how it is. It could sound like I was agreeing with her.”

  “I’m guessing I was one of the people she bad-mouthed?”

  Melody looked around. “Where is that waitress with my tea?”

  She doubted very much that the police could obtain transcripts of Nicole’s cell phone calls but she wasn’t in a hurry to reassure Melody of that fact. “Who else did she trash talk, Melody?”

  “I don’t want to tell tales out of school. The woman’s dead. I shouldn’t have even said anything. I’m all messed up, right now, is all.”

  “The police are going to want a list of any enemies Nicole might have had.”

  The black curls bounced as Melody shook her head -- a pudgy Snow White trying to refuse the apple. “She didn’t have any enemies. She was assertive and she didn’t let anything stand in her way so sometimes people didn’t understand her, but she had a really good heart.”

  Fortunately, the waitress arrived at that moment with the tea and both women took a moment. Melody to squeeze lemon and a hint of honey into her cup and Toni to try and work out what to say next.

  Finally Melody said, “I want to ask you something.”

  “Sure. Anything.”

  “Would you sit with me when the police interview me?”

  “Me? But –”

  “I’d ask Nicole, but –”

  “Right.”

  “I know it’s silly, but I’m scared to talk to them by myse
lf and you won’t let them bully me. You can be like my lawyer.”

  “I’m not legally trained Mel. Do you think you need a lawyer?”

  “What? Oh, Lord, no. I only meant I want someone who’s there to hold my hand.” She bit her lip. “I mentioned it to Thomas, but he’s so upset, I doubt he’ll come.”

  “Of course, I’ll be there for you.” She wasn’t sure the detectives on the case would be thrilled to have her present, but she figured that wasn’t her problem.

  And she was so deeply involved now that it felt only right she should be part of the investigation.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It is better to be beautiful than to be good, but it is better to be good than to be ugly. —Oscar Wilde

  Detective Marciano seemed less than delighted when Toni walked into Longhorn B at ten o’clock that morning with a nervous Melody beside her.

  “Ms. Diamond,” he said. “What a surprise.”

  “Melody asked me to sit in. Is it okay?”

  He glanced at Henderson and something in that impassive countenance must have been visible to him that wasn’t to her. “Sure.”

  They’d barely settled to the task when Thomas Feckler walked into the room. “Sorry, I’m late, honey.”

  Melody stretched out a hand to him and beamed. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here. Detectives, this is my husband.”

  “Are we waiting for anyone else or can we get started?” Marciano asked.

  Thomas Feckler settled beside his wife and then noticed Toni sitting to the side. “Toni,” he said in a polite version of a ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ tone.

  Melody said, “I wasn’t sure you could make it, so I asked Toni to come with me.” She giggled and looked toward the two cops. “I’m a little nervous.”

  Thomas Feckler’s expression cleared. “How nice of you to come and support Melody.”

  Having done her best to interview Melody over breakfast, she had to admire the way Marciano got so much more information out of the woman.