by Patrice Lyle
The positive outcome of the evening was that I was reminded, once again, how lucky I was to have Tex. I felt like telling the universe, however, that I got it.
I didn't need any more reminders.
"The gown still looks good, Pipe." Aunt Alfa always tried to look on the bright side no matter what.
"It's not a gown anymore because gowns are floor-length." I wiggled the garment bag that hung over my shoulder with a forced smile. "I'm now the proud owner of a knee-length wedding gown with shredded tulle."
When faced with the reality of having to purchase the damaged dress, I'd had no choice but to use Arielle's shears. At least now the hem was even and without piglet teeth marks.
That was something.
"Let's start a new trend, Doc." Tex winked at me as we strolled down the street. "I reckon I'll cut my tux pants off at the knee. How about that?"
I laughed. "Works for me."
A cab glided beside us, and I hailed it. The taxi ban was lifted as part of our agreement. We all slid into the back seat, and Tex told the guy our hotel. Brownie sat between Tex and me and rested his little head on the seat.
Tex gently stroked Brownie's snout. "I think that dress mauling wore him out."
"That was quite the energy burst." I watched the NYC lights blur together as we made our way back to the hotel.
The events of the evening still seemed surreal as the cab pulled into the U-shaped driveway of the Big Apple Convention Center. I was happy to be at our home away from home and looking forward to a bubble bath.
And a boatload of dark chocolate.
Tex paid the cab driver as we exited the car. I breathed in the night air and noticed Callie and Ken standing near the valet desk. Ken's shoulders were slumped, and Callie slipped her arm around his waist in a side-hug.
What was up? Especially after the harsh psychic reading Callie had received.
I handed Tex Brownie's leash. "Take him, will you? I'll be right back."
Before Tex could disagree, I darted over to the valet desk. Ken and Callie were talking so quietly that I couldn't make out what they were discussing.
I decided to just butt in. "Hi."
Ken looked up and smiled weakly. "I take it you heard?"
I pulled my face back. "Heard what?"
Callie tightened her arm-hug on Ken and let out a sigh. "That hideous Veronica just posted a bunch of lies about Ken."
I looked at Ken. "How did she do that?" I left out because she's dead.
"She used one of those automated services that posts at timed intervals," Ken said. "She must have written the post the day she died and had it set to post tonight."
Callie looked sad. "Once the police read the post, they'll probably have more questions for Ken."
"That's too bad." As I considered the best way to inquire about the blog's content, I noticed the shine in Callie's eyes as she looked at Ken. "What did Veronica say in the blog?"
Ken glanced at his feet before meeting my gaze. "She wrote a lengthy post about my criminal past."
A jolt of fear hit me, followed by a dose of reality. "But wouldn't the police already know that? Wouldn't they have looked into your background?"
"They did," Callie said. "But they didn't know anything about the Christmas wedding."
Actually, they did because I'd told the detective about the wedding gown invoice. But I declined to offer that tidbit. Probably wouldn't make them a fan of mine.
"The biggest thing the police didn't know," Ken said, "was about my family secret."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Blackmail!
"Found it." I peered at my laptop screen shortly after we'd come upstairs to our room. Finding Veronica's blog had been easy. Given the increasing number of views the site had, I wasn't the only one interested in what the deceased tuning-fork diva had to say.
Tex sat in the chair beside me and leaned over, sending a hint of his heavenly masculine scent my way.
The man was truly delish on so many levels.
"What'd Veronica say about Ken's family secret?" He squinted at the screen.
"Too bad someone whacked Veronica," Aunt Alfa piped up from the bed where she was keeping a snoozing Brownie company. "Maybe she could have bought that Queen Bathshoo gown off you."
I closed my eyes and counted ten dark chocolate bars. "Let's please not talk about the dress, okay?" The amount of money I'd spent on the shredded designer dress was truly sickening. Forgetting I owned the dress would go a long way in reducing my pain.
I opened my eyes to see a small grin spread across Tex's face.
"No smiling about the dress either." I used my firmest voice.
He bit his lip. "Back to the blog then."
I turned and located the blog Ken and Callie had told us about. It had posted not too long ago and was titled Christmas Wedding Joke. After I shared the title, which we all agreed was rather interesting, I read the post aloud.
Hi there, awesome readers. You know I love giving you information about how fab tuning forks are, but tonight, I have something juicier. It's no secret that I love Ken's Killer Kale Chips…but I bet it's a secret that Ken's in love with me! He swept me off my stilettos last year and asked me to marry him. I said yes. The wedding was set for this Christmas in Aspen, but then someone sent me an anonymous letter alerting me that Ken's a felon! A felon, I tell you!
"I wonder who the anonymous letter writer was?" Tex asked.
An idea popped into my mind. "I bet it was Callie, trying to stop the wedding because she's in love with Ken."
"Then she wouldn't need to whack Veronica if she sent the letter, right?" Aunt Alfa asked, tightening a teal foam curler.
"True." I turned to the post to keep reading.
Kale Chip Ken is as phony as his bleached blond hair! His real name is Kenneth Rosarelli! I had a PI confirm it. And his family's in the mafia! That's why he got off with a slap on the wrist for the felony he committed in Vegas, which was…are you ready? He was found harboring a three-legged endangered sea turtle in a tub in his RV in Vegas! Sounds sweet, I know, but nabbing a sea turtle for a pet is a violation of the Endangered Species Act. Hello, felony!
"Tripod." I quickly filled Tex and Aunt Alfa in about the comments about the three-flippered sea turtle at the kale chip booth. "That's why Ken and Callie acted so weird about Tripod." I continued reading.
Because of all Ken put me through, I've earned a financial interest in Ken's Killer Kale Chips. And he better give it to me.
If he doesn't kill me, that is.
"Uh-oh." I sat back and stared at the screen. "That was an incriminating last line. I don't think Callie would write that about Ken."
Tex started to reach for a coconut kale chip but must have changed his mind. "I don't either. If she's in love with him, she wouldn't want to get him in trouble."
Aunt Alfa paced the room. "I can't see Callie writing that zinger either, but I bet I know who did."
Tex and I both said, "Who?"
"Veronica. She wanted to make trouble for Ken and get control of the company, so she made up the anonymous letter." Aunt Alfa stopped to scratch a spot beneath a curler. "But why'd she want that kale chip company so badly anyway?"
As much as I didn't want Tex to hear a reference to my weight, I had no choice. "When I first met Veronica, she made a snarky remark about my hips and how eating kale chips 24/7 would make me lose weight."
Tex looked me up and down. "You don't need to lose an ounce on those hips."
I beamed. "Veronica was super skinny though. Maybe she used kale chips as meal substitutes all the time and wanted the company so she could get a discount? We girls do love a good deal."
"I reckon that makes sense, but what was the part about Ken sweeping Veronica off her stilettos?" Tex asked. "We need to find out if they really had a fling or what."
"Ken confirmed a brief fling." I was about to close the blog when I noticed another post from earlier today. "Check this out. Veronica must have auto-posted this bit about her boyfr
iend, Oscar. She says they're breaking up."
"That the lawyer who left the girl who wears that kokomo get up?" Aunt Alfa asked.
I nodded, knowing she meant kimono.
"Talk about motive. And what's with the Japanese dress?" Tex asked.
"Maybe she's in it for the soba noodles," Aunt Alfa said. "People can do some crazy stuff for noodles."
"Crazy stuff makes me think we need to talk to Veronica's sister," I said. "Sisters always know the real dirt."
* * *
Tex and I made sure Aunt Alfa flipped the dead bolt on our way to visit Veronica's sister. The girl at the front desk was super agreeable about giving us Zelinda's room number after Aunt Alfa dazzled her with a freebie psychic reading.
We strolled down the hall, and questions whirled through my mind. I remembered one PI flash card about suspects. Thoroughly evaluate all elements of each suspect before assigning further suspicion or clearing from suspect roster.
I shared the tip with Tex. "I don't think I've done a good job with that. My brain's been on overload with the murder and the wedding dress hunt."
He glanced at me. "We have your wedding dress, so that's a load off your pretty little mind."
I stopped and shot him a what the fennel look. "That's not my wedding dress, Tex. The tulle was chewed on, and the darn thing only comes to my knees." Was he serious?
A sly grin slipped onto his face. "You've great calves, Doc. No need to hide them under a poof of satin and tulle."
He always knew what to say.
I suppressed a smile and resumed walking. "Back to my PI flash card. I think we need to dig further on each suspect to clearly rule him or her out."
"I agree. And we'll start with whoever Zelinda thinks could have done it." Tex clasped my hand in his. "I reckon the family might be leaning toward Ken."
"The mafia stuff's pretty shocking, but just because his family's into organized crime, doesn't mean he is."
"That's certainly true. Look at you and Aunt Alfa. She's a psychic now, and you're not into all that woo-woo jazz."
"Good point." I stopped at Zelinda's door. "Ken could support his family like I support my aunt. As you said earlier, families stick together."
He smiled, and I knocked on the door. Locks clicked and clacked before the door open. With a killer on the loose, I was surprised she wouldn't have asked who we were or at least peered through the peephole.
Zelinda loosened the tie on her pale pink negligee and stared at us. "Are you reporters?" She swung her gaze toward Tex. "Are you with the Fort Worth Star-Telegram? They haven't been by yet."
Tex scrunched his face. "Ma'am?"
Zelinda gestured toward his head. "The cowboy hat." Then she turned to me. "You from a Florida paper?"
Now I scrunched my face. "Excuse me?"
She pointed at my hair. "The beachy, wavy hair."
At least she didn't say frizzy. That was a plus. I hadn't considered lying about our identity, but perhaps that was a good idea. Nah. Forget it. I was a terrible liar.
I stuck my hand out. "I'm Dr. Piper Meadows, and this is my fiancé, Tattoo Tex." I elbowed Tex, who stuck his hand out.
"Howdy, ma'am."
She shook Tex's hand after mine and gave him a lingering playful gaze. "I've always loved cowboys."
My stomach clenched. I would not tolerate open ogling of my fiancé.
I edged in front of Tex. "We're vendors at the show, and we want to offer our condolences for the tragic loss of your sister."
Zelinda threw her hand back and laughter tinkled out of her throat. "You're the first person to stop by and offer me that. Most everyone hated Veronica. You must not have known her well."
"We just met her," I said, to be honest. "And we just read the blog post she wrote about Ken."
Zelinda opened the door wider. "Would you like to come in, cowboy?"
Tex shot a questioning look at me. "Doc?"
I pushed my way past Zelinda. "We'd love to come in." I looked around and spotted a box of red hair dye on the table. "Is this Veronica's room?"
"Yes, the hotel was sold out," Zelinda said, closing the door. "The police already swept the room and didn't find anything."
Perfect segue. "Do you know anyone who wanted to hurt Veronica?"
"I'll tell you what I told the police and the reporters," she said as she turned toward a champagne bucket on the TV stand. "Would either of you care for a glass?"
Tex declined, saying he preferred beer, and I declined, saying it would give me a headache. Both statements were true, plus I needed to keep levelheaded on a case.
"Fine then, I'll drink alone, like I often do." She gestured toward two chairs in the corner near the bed. "Please sit." She poured herself a glass, drank half, and refilled the glass. Then she sashayed to the bed where she purposefully sat down and let her negligee fall open, exposing skinny legs.
"What did you tell the police?" I asked, eager to steer the conversation toward the murder.
She took a sip. "Veronica always wanted to be rich, and she didn't care how she got her money. She trumped up this tuning-fork baloney and made millions, but she wasn't happy. It was never enough, which is why she wanted that kale chip company and had that fling with that ridiculous hippie."
I sat straight up. "You mean Ken?"
She laughed. "Who else? I don't care what his background is, the guy's a surfer hippie at heart."
I knew it. Okay, Ken was ruled out.
"Veronica didn't give a rip about Ken," Zelinda continued. "She just wanted the money from his kale chip company."
"That's cold," Tex said.
"That was my sister." Zelinda repositioned her leg to show more skin. "Personally, I put my money on Helena as the killer."
"Helena?" That name sounded familiar. "Is she the holistic esthetician?"
Tex swung his gaze toward me. "I told you that Dream Cream was a clue, Doc."
Zelinda laughed and swatted Tex's foot with her own. "You're perceptive, cowboy. I told the police all about Helena and Veronica. They met on some holistic retreat, and that's when Veronica found out about Helena's secret addiction."
Excitement stirred inside. Was Tex right?
"Ma'am, was the secret addiction by any chance Dream Cream?"
"Bingo! As soon as my sister found out about Helena's non-organic choice of personal skin care, instead of the organic stuff she touted, Veronica snapped pictures and profited off the situation."
"Profited?" Tex furrowed his brow. "How so?"
Laughter rolled off Zelinda's lips. "One word, cowboy. One word that could have easily led to murder."
I leaned forward, knowing exactly what she was going to say.
Zelinda smirked. "Blackmail."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cruel and Unusual Punishment
I called Aunt Alfa, who gave the front-desk girl another quickie psychic reading so we could get Helena's room number. Tex and I strode toward Helena's suite, but no one answered after several knocks.
"Where do you reckon an esthetician would be?" Tex asked.
"Hmm. The spa?" It was worth a shot.
"I think I saw a sign for the spa on the first floor."
"That's right. Near the gym."
We headed for the lobby with my PI mind in overdrive. Zelinda sure had coughed up Helena as a suspect easily. Was that a setup or a sister wanting justice? People lingered in the hotel lobby bar chatting over baskets of free snacks. I shuddered. The germs in community food had always grossed me out.
The spa was closed when we arrived. Bummer.
"Now what, Doc?"
I glanced at the time on my phone. "The expo closed only a few minutes ago, so maybe Helena's still at her booth?"
"Worth a try."
We hustled to the main expo hall, passing several EP's along the way. Most vendors had taken off, but a few lingered. Along with a few patrons. I grabbed an expo map, and we located Helena's booth. Helena's Organic Skin Care was situated in the middle of the exhibit hall
.
We approached her display and saw her enthusiastically telling a customer about her latest night cream.
"It's totally organic," Helena gushed. "You should never put chemicals in your body or on your skin. I had my line formulated for me originally because my skin's so sensitive. I wouldn't trust anything but my products on my delicate skin."
Tex and I exchanged looks. Where did the Dream Cream fit in?
The customer asked, "What's your opinion of popular commercial products like Dream Cream? Are they bad?"
I watched Helena's expression carefully.
She picked up a lovely gift bag filled with her products. "There are two things you should never do if you want to be healthy. You shouldn't put chemicals in your body or on your skin. I wouldn't be caught dead using any of the products you just mentioned."
Wow. Helena was an accomplished liar. She didn't give any external indication she was lying, like shuffling her feet, shifting her gaze, or making nervous hand gestures.
"Excuse me, ma'am?" Tex edged toward Helena. "I couldn't help overhearing what you just said. My great aunt uses Dream Cream, and I reckon I'm worried about her now. Should I be?"
Helena held up her pointer finger in a just-a-minute gesture. She then talked the lady into buying an organic dry-skin-care set. The lady gushed about how she hoped the new products made her skin as gorgeous as Helena's. Once the customer departed, Helena threw us a cold look.
"You two were at the health food store." She turned her gaze on me. "And you practically accused Willow of wrongdoing."
I widened my eyes in surprise. "I don't recall, but I'm very interested in your skin care line. As my fiancé told you, his great aunt uses Dream Cream. After what you just told that lady, I'd love to hear your thoughts."
Tex nodded. "Me too. You said you wouldn't be caught dead in that Dream stuff."
"How long have you used exclusively organic skin care products?" I asked.