by Sandra Balzo
‘And then he wanted to have it removed?’ I guessed. I’d heard lasers were effective, if not perfect, for tattoo removal.
‘Removed?’ Her laugh was not so much humorless as it was just plain tired. ‘No, Way didn’t have it lasered off. He just put a big X over it and had the name of the next woman tattooed below it.’ Her voice faltered. ‘And the next, and the next.’
Like notches on a gun or, probably closer, on a bedpost. ‘You mean including...’ I canted my head toward Naomi Verdeaux, who had just come in from the back hallway.
‘I was on the back of his neck. He’s worked his way south since then. She -’ Aurora nodded toward Verdeaux - ‘is on his butt. The man was a pig.’
Interesting. I wondered just how Aurora could know who was on Way’s butt. ‘You did marry him,’ I reminded her.
‘Even a pig can be charming,’ Aurora muttered, throwing a look in Verdeaux’s direction. ‘In short bursts.’
Way’s ex lowered her voice even further. ‘Believe me, it doesn’t take long to realize that Way was interested in only one thing: Himself. He was nothing but a back-stabber and...’
‘Someone stabbed back,’ I said.
Aurora froze for a beat, then nodded.
‘But who?’
Despite what Sarah had said about my being happily snowed-in with a corpse, I wasn’t liking this role very much. Funny how being attacked personally could take all the vicarious pleasure out of being trapped in a strip mall with a murderer.
‘God, will you look at that coat?’ Aurora said, as Naomi Verdeaux shrugged out of it by the lunch counter. We watched as Verdeaux hung the coat on a hook between the adjacent booths and moved away to talk with Sarah near the window.
‘It is gorgeous,’ I said. ‘I mean, despite it being dead animals and all.’
‘Sheared mink. With sable trimming, even the hood and cuffs. I was drooling over it at Saline’s Fur Studio last fall.’
‘It would look great on you.’
Aurora shrugged. ‘Way probably bought it for her. Or, worse but typical, bought it for me, and then gave it to her. The little slut and I are the same size.’
‘PB-EB,’ I said, reflexively.
Aurora’s eyes narrowed.
I bit my tongue, but did I let it stop me? Nah. ‘Petite, blue-eyed blonde. It seems to have been Way’s type.’
‘You got that right.’ Aurora sank into the booth next to Verdeaux’s fur coat. ‘You should add a Y to the acronym, though. Young was the primary requirement for Way.’ She sighed, stroking the coat absently. ‘Hell, for a lot of people.’
‘Like your station?’ I sat down across from her.
‘My station?’
‘The television...’
‘Got it. Yeah, they say I “skew” old.’ A grim laugh. ‘That’s in contrast with my ex-husband, who “screwed” young.’
Having had experience with a similarly cheating spouse, I figured I was entitled to crack a smile.
Aurora drummed her fingernails on the table. ‘You know, it’s hard enough to be replaced by a younger version of yourself at home. But on your job, too?’
‘It sucks, on both counts,’ I agreed. ‘My husband dumped me for a younger woman, too.’
‘Really?’ Aurora canted her head. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘Well, we’ve never had much chance to talk before now.’
Aurora smiled. ‘Once in a blue moon. Or every thundersnow, maybe. You doing OK since your divorce?’
I sat back in the booth, realizing. ‘I am, in fact. It’s good to be on my own, but Ted…’
‘You still have feelings for him?’
‘No, not really. He’s a good guy - except for the cheating part - and he is the father of my son. It’s just that Ted’s had a rough go of it lately and I guess I feel sorry for him.’
‘A dentist, right? Is business slow?’
‘He’s lost a few patients.’ It was true as far as it went, but I didn’t want to get into Ted’s soap opera of a life right then with Aurora, a woman I barely knew outside a television screen.
‘We reap what we sow,’ Aurora said.
‘Meteorological maxim?’ I asked, trying to lighten her mood. Of course, with Aurora’s ex-husband a frozen stiff out back, only so much levity was appropriate.
‘More like retribution of biblical proportions.’ Aurora changed her tone. ‘Which reminds me, I want to make some observations on the storm. Maybe I can become the Wolf Blitzer of our thundersnow and save my job.’
I knew she was referring to the CNN reporter who had been coincidentally on the scene in Bagdad at the start of the First Persian Gulf War in...God, could it be nearly twenty years already?
Sheesh, Aurora wasn’t the only one skewing old.
The meteorologist slid out of our booth and stood up. She called to Mrs G, who was coming out of the kitchen, knife in hand. ‘I’m going to need a -’
‘Take whatever you want,’ Mrs G said with a flourish of her knife. ‘I’ll keep track and you can pay me when the power comes back on.’
I made a mental note to pay Mrs G for my ‘ensemble’ as Aurora went off to choose a ‘Hello Kitty’ notebook and matching pen ($9.43) from the stationery aisle. Before I could mentally tally my own bill, Naomi Verdeaux took Aurora’s place across from me.
‘Nice outfit.’
Verdeaux really was an age-regressed version of Aurora, right down to their cornflower hair and too-blue eyes. Where Aurora’s eyes always seemed - whether by nature or professional obligation - open and friendly, Naomi Verdeaux’s were empty. Even callous.
Robin’s egg-blue eyes, transplanted into a shark. Like the predator had swallowed the poor thing whole and kept its eyes for its own use.
Chapter 12
‘I just came from the bathroom in the back hallway,’ Naomi Verdeaux, aka the Great White, was saying to me.
Like I cared.
‘It looks as if somebody is living here. Do you know anything about that?’
Over the last few months, I’d seen Mrs G’s car parked in the back lot when I left at night. Most times, it was in the same space when I came in at five thirty the next morning. Did I suspect that she was staying in the store rather than going home to an empty house? Hell, yes. But it was none of Verdeaux’s business.
‘This pharmacy has been in our mall for decades. It wouldn’t surprise me if Gloria and Hank have a lot of personal things stored here. I doubt we’re experiencing the first night the entire plaza has been snowed in. Or maybe she’s had to work late doing inventory.’
‘Inventory?’ Verdeaux laughed. ‘I don’t imagine it’s even possible to do an inventory of the trash that’s piled up in this place over those same decades you were talking about.'
Verdeaux leaned closer over the table between us, her tone now less confrontational and more gossipy. ‘Know what I found in the high cabinet over the toilet?’
‘Charmin. No, wait. Cottonelle.’
‘Very funny.’ Another inch of leaning toward me and I was going to bitch-slap her. ‘A hunting rifle. And a dead squirrel.’
Stuffed, I hoped. The cabinet Verdeaux was talking about was nearly ceiling height. The despicable little snoop would have had to climb up on the toilet seat to reach it.
‘Mrs G’s husband was a hunter,’ I told Verdeaux, as if it was any of her business. ‘I’m sure she put those things up there so she wouldn’t be...reminded of earlier, happier times.’ I didn’t mention the revolver Gloria still kept in the cash drawer.
Verdeaux pursed her lips. ‘There are probably lots of memories for her here after all these years. You, too.’
‘Yes,’ I said, wondering about the change in tactics. And tone. Now the woman sounded vaguely human.
Verdeaux tapped the table top with the nails on both her index fingers. ‘I know that Rudy’s barbershop was here first and Goddard’s second. How long has your shop been in the mall?’
Give her this: she’d done her homework. Rudy had been the ‘make-or-break’
tenant - the one that put the mall at fifty-percent occupancy. Hitting that mark allowed the Bensons to refinance at a lower rate so they could afford to finish the project and begin another. And don’t think that Rudy was above reminding Way of that every time the Barber of Brookhills wanted something. Rudy dearly loved having the upper hand, something Caron and I had never experienced.
‘We opened Uncommon Grounds a little over a year ago.’
‘Ahh, that’s why your lease had already been renewed when I came to Way with my plan.’ She began tapping those manicured fingernails even faster. ‘Bad timing, that.’
Bitch, squared. I cleared my throat. ‘So, you plan to take over our space, too?’
‘Eventually, though that will have to be Phase Two.’ Verdeaux smiled. ‘The good news is that since you have it built out as a coffee shop, we’ll just have to knock down the dividing wall to make it Gross National Produce’s own, in-store cafe.’
Caron and I, along with our late partner Patricia Harper, had put countless hours of planning into Uncommon Grounds. The stainless steel counters holding the espresso machine and coffee brewers. The refrigerator tucked under the counter so we’d have milk for cappuccinos and lattes within easy reach. The Lucite bins that showcased twenty different types of coffee beans. The ceramic tile floor. The navy-topped tables and matching chairs. The condiment cart at the side of the door to draw people away and avoid traffic jams at the ordering counter.
‘Wait a second,’ I said, now leaning forward on my side of the booth. ‘You’re planning on kicking us loose and then using our shop as your café? Why not just let us stay?’
Verdeaux shook her head. ‘It’s not the Gross way, Maggy.’
‘Not the “Gross...way”?’ I repeated disbelievingly.
A voice behind me said, ‘Has it occurred to you, Naomi, that your “Way” is dead?’
I’d been so focused on the seemingly inevitable demise of Uncommon Grounds that I hadn’t noticed Aurora rejoining the party. Now she plucked Verdeaux’s coat off the hook next to us.
‘Did he buy this for you?’ Aurora asked the other woman.
Verdeaux looked confused. ‘Way?’
‘Yes, my ex-husband. Did you know that he and I were seeing each other again?’
It sure was news to me. But then, Brookhills seemed to have more layers than a wedding cake.
I slid sideways in the booth so my back was against the wall, legs stretched out on the bench and tasseled slippers pointed toes-to-the-ceiling. That way I could see both Verdeaux and Aurora without swiveling my head like I was at a tennis match.
Despite the news, I wouldn’t have described Verdeaux as all that upset. ‘No, Aurora, I didn’t know that. But it doesn’t surprise me.’ She smiled. ‘I believe you catch more flies with honey. And Way did, too.’
‘Honey, believe me,’ Aurora said with a matching smirk. ‘I’m certain you’ve caught more bugs than a Venus fly tramp.’
I barely contained my ‘atta-girl’ fist pump. Since I wasn’t sure which of these titans was going to win the battle of Benson Plaza, I didn’t want to piss either of them off. On the other hand, my heart was with Aurora.
And she continued, ‘You’re not a stupid woman, Naomi. You must realize that, with Way gone, I’m the one - the only one - who’ll be making any decisions about Benson Plaza.’
As Aurora spoke, the door into the hallway opened and Luc and Tien joined us. Luc was carrying two packs of soft drinks and Tien had an orange, a bottle of something I didn’t recognize and a jar of maraschino cherries.
Curious. But I had other entertainment.
‘We have an agreement,’ Verdeaux said.
‘Way and you had an agreement.’ Aurora shrugged into Verdeaux’s coat. ‘A verbal one or -’ she gave Verdeaux a wink - ‘should I say oral? But, either way, it’s not binding on me.’
‘That’s my coat,’ Verdeaux sputtered. ‘And what else would you do with this mall? The tenants have been evicted and I’m sure they’ve made other plans. Perhaps even signed leases for space elsewhere.’
Verdeaux looked to me. Then at Luc and Tien. And, finally, toward Mrs G and Oliver, who had just come out bearing plates of food. ‘Right?’
Well, no. But Aurora didn’t give me or anyone else time to answer. ‘So maybe I’ll just sell the land to a developer.’ Way’s ex shrugged. ‘There’s a hotel chain that’s just dying to get their hands on it.’
Geez, this was going from bad to...well, immeasurably bad.
I raised my hand. ‘Umm, I can stay and I think―’
Aurora interrupted me. ‘Now I’m going to go out and measure the snowfall, so I have data when I finally get out of this place and on the air.’
She stared down Verdeaux. ‘My coat is at Uncommon Grounds. You don’t mind if I take yours, do you?’
Verdeaux looked very much like she minded. Apparently, though, she was still counting on the honey/fly thing. ‘Of course not. Be my guest.’
I watched as Aurora slipped her pad and pen into the pocket of the coat and pulled the sable-trimmed hood up.
‘Thanks ever so much,’ she said, giving the front door a shove with her hip. The door, which faced a different direction than Uncommon Grounds, must have had less snow piled up against it, because it swung open. Either that or Aurora was in lots better shape than me. ‘We can talk more when I get back.’
And, with that, Aurora was gone, leaving us shivering in her wake.
‘Will somebody pull that door closed?’ Luc asked, as he went to set down the packs of cola and lemon-lime soda. ‘The wind is keeping it open.’
Caron went and tried. ‘It won’t stay shut.’
‘Turn the lock, so it latches,’ Sarah suggested, as Mrs G began bringing out plates of sandwiches. ‘We won’t have any trouble hearing Aurora when she comes back.’
‘Wait.’ I had been so engrossed in the catfight that, when Aurora stormed out, it hadn’t occurred to me that she was not only storming into the storm, but also, potentially, into the clutches of my recent attacker.
I went to the door and turned the lock so I could re-open it.
Sarah gave me a dirty look. ‘Caron just locked that.’
‘And Aurora’s out there, maybe with a bad guy.’ I stuck my head out. The icy flakes stung my eyes, but all I could see was snow, punctuated by the occasional flash of lightning. ‘Aurora?’ I called into the night.
Nothing. And, in my elf costume, I was hardly dressed to go out and look for her.
Luc came to my side. ‘What makes you think the killer is still nearby?’ he asked. ‘If I were him, I’d be long gone.’
I looked at Tien’s father. I didn’t think Luc had killed Way, but if I was wrong, he might be trying to throw me off. Or not. Besides, Luc was huskier than the guy who had knocked me down. I thought.
God, this stuff gets confusing.
‘I would’ve thought he wanted to get away, too,’ I said. ‘But apparently not.’ I filled him in on the attack.
‘Even more reason to keep buttoned up,’ Sarah said, taking the door away from me in order to close it and turn the deadbolt. ‘Better to keep the killer outside.’
‘But not us in, apparently,’ I protested. ‘Aurora isn’t in here, safe with us.’
‘Her choice,’ Naomi Verdeaux said with a shrug. She not only didn’t give a rip about Aurora, but she didn’t seem all that worried about her own coat out in the snow. Of course, the animals had lived in the snow when they were alive, so why worry about them when they’re dead and warming your new arch-enemy?
‘It’s OK, Maggy,’ Luc said in a low voice. ‘Aurora is no fool and, besides, what I said about the murderer goes double now. He knows you saw him, and I can’t believe a sane man would come back here.’
Unless he wasn’t sane. Or he was coming back for me. A chill ran down my back and it had nothing to do with my flimsy outfit.
‘I’m going to go wash my hands before we eat,’ Verdeaux said abruptly, sliding out of the booth we’d shared.
Eat. I glanced over at the lunch counter where the sandwiches awaited. I was really, really hungry. For not the first time in my life, food took precedence over my more noble impulses.
‘There’s no running water,’ I started to remind Verdeaux, but she was already out the door to the back corridor. I wanted to wash my hands, too - what with the blood earlier and the sheepdog more recently. Maybe some soap from the shelves and bottled water, if we had more...
‘Take some of that waterless hand cleaner.’ Mrs G pointed toward the rack of impulse purchases by the cash register. ‘Only ninety-nine cents plus tax.’
I grabbed a little blister-packed bottle. ‘Great idea. I’ll use some myself and take the rest to Verdeaux.’ I was working at getting the plastic safety-seal off the bottle as I approached the door to the hallway.
It swung open, and I jumped back. Frank, still shadowing Oliver, barked.
‘A little jumpy, are we?’ Sarah asked.
An understatement if I ever heard one. I wondered if the Goddard pharmacy section was still stocked. A little Valium was sounding real good to me all of a sudden.
‘Sorry that took so long.’ Rudy was brandishing a bottle of brandy. ‘I couldn’t find where I’d put the new bottle of Korbel.’
He was talking about the brandy, not the champagne. Apparently a barber doesn’t have a desk drawer to keep his booze in like any respectable office worker.
‘Booze,’ I said, stepping aside to let Rudy in. ‘Thank God.’
‘Is something wrong?’ he asked, looking around.
‘Besides Way being killed and Maggy attacked?’ Sarah said sarcastically. ‘No, everything’s peachy. Why do you ask?’
Rudy turned to me, surprised. ‘Wait a second. You were attacked? When? Are you OK?’
I wanted to explain, but egg salad and disinfected hands were calling me. ‘They -’ I waved at the rest of the cast of Survivor: Strip Mall, as I stepped out the door - ‘can fill you in. I have to hit the bathroom.’
‘There’s no water.’ Rudy’s voice followed me. ‘You’ll...’
I didn’t hear the rest of it as the door closed behind me. Without the benefit of Goddard’s fire and the lanterns, the hallway seemed pitch-black and arctic, even with the emergency lights.