Dyed and Gone

by Beth Yarnall

  “What intel?” I asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” He stood up and waved me into the chair. “Sit. I have a minor miracle to work and primitive tools to work it with. Would it kill you to get a proper eyelash curler?”

  Hmm. I knew that shifty-eyed look of his. “You learned something about the murders, didn’t you?”

  His gaze slid away. “Me? No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re a terrible liar.”

  “All right! You beat it out of me. I’m a broken man.” He perched himself on the edge of the desk, settling in to spill all. “You’ll never guess what ole Big Mac did!” I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it. “She two-timed the two-timer. She out tricked the trickster. Foiled the foibler—”

  I put up a hand to stop him. “Got it. What did she do?”

  “She patented her new product in her own name, not the company’s! Can you believe it? She owns the formula to that incredible new hair color.”

  I dropped down into the chair, my thoughts doing backflips and somersaults. MacKenzie Todd had outtricked the trickster. “So it didn’t matter whether or not Dhane sold the company. Either way, she owned the product. She really is a genius.” Even on the slight chance Mac might’ve paid someone to kill Dhane while she sat in Washington with the perfect alibi, she had no motive. There might have been a lengthy court battle between her and Dhane, but then again maybe not. If Dhane was keen to sell the company, he might not have cared what MacKenzie did with the patent.

  “Uh-oh. You’re doing it again. You’re thinking about investigating, aren’t you?” Juan Carlos asked.

  “MacKenzie’s out because she lacks both motive and opportunity. That leaves Ace and Sora. Either one of them could have killed Dhane and Trinity.” My thoughts were spinning like a roulette wheel, the little ball popping around, looking for a place to land. “My money’s on Ace. That kind of devotion would make him do anything. Plus, I can’t see somebody like Sora getting her hands dirty.”

  “You promised! Detective Dreamboat is going to have my head for getting you started on this again.”

  “I’m not getting started again.” You can’t start something that you never really stopped. I mentally patted myself on the back for that little gem. “I’m just thinking about…things.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “You don’t have to. You just have to keep your mouth shut. I promise I won’t do anything to put myself in danger. I’m not investigating. I’m just thinking things through.”

  “I still don’t like it.”

  “You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

  He got up from the desk and squirted some foundation on a sponge. “I care about you, girl. I just want you to be careful.”

  “I will.”

  Half an hour later, Alex walked in with bags of food that smelled so good I almost passed out from inhaling so deeply.

  He stopped with a jerk at the sight of Juan Carlos applying liquid eyeliner in long strokes across my eyelids. “I only brought enough for two.”

  “That’s okay,” Juan Carlos said. “If she eats, she might not fit into her dress. Smells good. What’d you bring us?”

  “Burgers. I meant I didn’t bring enough for you. Just for Azalea and me.” Alex set the bags on the desk and handed me a soda. “You want to eat now or wait?” he asked me.

  “I’d better eat before he puts on my lipstick.”

  Alex pulled a burger and fries out of the bag and handed them to me. He glanced around, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. “I think I’ll go downstairs.” He looked at me as if he expected something from me.

  There was still a whiff of awkwardness in the air between Alex and me that was almost tangible. We glanced at each other, but there was no real eye contact, as if we might see something in each other that we didn’t want to see. I wasn’t entirely sure what had happened back in that cab and what Alex had meant about not getting carried away. He was the one who had pushed for a date and then had hung around to keep me safe. So why was he pulling back just when I was starting to get comfortable with the idea of moving forward?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Look at your boobs. Look at them! Can I touch them?”

  I swatted Juan Carlos’s hand away. “No, you can’t touch them.” My breasts were so high I could practically rest my chin on them. They sure didn’t make dresses like this anymore. All the boning and stays carved curves in my figure I hadn’t known existed.

  “So you think I look good?” I turned to the side, trying to see what the back of me looked like in the full-length mirror.

  “I think Detective Delish is going to have a hard time fitting into his slacks. Get it? Hard time.” He snickered at his own joke.

  I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes so I didn’t dislodge one of my false eyelashes. “I got it. You really think I look good?”

  “Honey, you look so good I’m almost having a hard time fitting in my slacks. Speaking of. I’d better go and get myself dressed.” He kissed me on the cheek. “You’re beautiful. Perfect. I’ll meet you in the hall in ten minutes. Be ready.”

  After he left, I smoothed my hands down the front of the dress. The midnight-black satin was cool and smooth beneath my touch. In the classic fifties style, the dress fit snugly down my hips, then flared at my thighs. The sweetheart halter framed my bust, leaving my back bare. A built-in sash wrapped across my hips, tying where the dress began its flare. It was feminine to the extreme. Taking advantage of the skin left exposed by the dress, Juan Carlos had pulled my hair into a simple French twist with a low sweep of bangs off to one side.

  Sitting down, I slid my feet into a pair of black-satin stiletto evening sandals. Just as I buckled the last one, Alex walked in. Surprised, I jumped up.

  He froze when he saw me, his mouth slack, eyes glazed over. He stared at me so long I grew nervous, twisting my fingers behind my back. His eyes were everywhere, taking in every detail, from the top of my sleek twist to the tips of my silver-painted toes and back again a dozen times.

  “Wow.” He infused that one word with so much heat, my heart skipped a beat and I got that warm, tingly feeling he’d generated in the cab.

  “Yeah?”

  He swallowed hard, his eyes twinkling in that way that could make a good girl go bad. He nodded. “Oh, yeah.”

  “So we’re okay?”

  “What?” He looked confused, like his brain couldn’t quite make the subject leap.

  I motioned back and forth between us. “You and me.”

  His brows bunched, and he shook his head.

  Disappointment washed over me and it took all my strength to act like I didn’t care. “Are you still going?”

  “What?”

  “To the awards? We’re leaving in ten minutes. After that I assume you’ll be at the wedding.”

  “Wait a minute.” He put his hands up in a stop gesture. “Back up.”

  “To where?”

  “To right after I came in and we started talking.”

  I grabbed my earrings and evening bag. “Why?” I brushed past him and pulled my white faux-fur wrap, which was more for show than warmth, out of the closet. “What’s the point? If you’re going, you’d better get dressed. We’re leaving—”

  “I know, in ten minutes. What did I miss? What just happened here?”

  “Are you kidding me?” I spun around and tried to open the door.

  He reached over my shoulder and slapped his palm on the door, preventing my escape. “Azalea, talk to me.”

  Tipping my head back to glare at the ceiling, I huffed out a frustrated breath.

  He dipped his head. His breath whispered over the contours of my neck, sending shivers through me. “Mmm, you smell as good as you look.”

  I spun around and found myself pinned between his big body and the door. “Stop it!”

  “What? What did I do?”

  “It’s what you’re doing. Hot, cold, hot, cold, hot again. I ca
n’t keep up.”

  “Please tell me what you’re talking about.” He brushed his thumb over the pulse in my neck.

  “Alex, stop.”

  Taking a step back, he raised his hands in surrender.

  “I can’t think when you do that. Stop it. Stop giving me go-ahead signals and then pushing me away. And stop looking at my breasts!”

  “But they’re so—” He made a helpless gesture. His voice deepened, sending little vibrations through me. “There. So very, very there.” He tipped his head to one side. “What do you mean pushing you away? When did I push you away?” It took him a moment while I stood there fuming at him, forcing him to maintain eye contact with me and not let his gaze drop, for him to come around to it. “You’re talking about what happened after what happened in the cab?”

  I nodded.

  “You said you were okay with taking it slow. Although seeing you in that dress sure makes a liar out of you.”

  “You did not just call me a liar.”

  He started to say something, shook his head, and started again. “That was a badly timed joke. Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Back to what happened earlier. Vivian told me a little bit about your past.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “She shouldn’t have done that.” I couldn’t believe Vivian talked to him about me.

  “Don’t be mad at her. She only told me as a warning. I won’t get into the ways she threatened to disembowel and dismember me if I ever hurt you.” He shuddered. “For such a small thing, she sure is violent.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said you’d been through a lot. She didn’t tell me exactly what, but I could guess from what little she said.”

  Shifting from foot to foot, I averted my gaze. I didn’t like anyone talking about me behind my back. I especially didn’t like Alex knowing about my past. It highlighted all of the defects I’d been so carefully trying to conceal. But most of all, I didn’t want his pity. I folded my arms over my chest, hugging myself.

  “I’ve been cheated on, too.”

  That brought my head up. Who in their proper mind would cheat on Alex?

  “It’s easy to cheat on a cop. We work lousy hours and aren’t always attentive. At least I wasn’t.”

  “I told myself that, too. That it was my fault. He was very convincing on that point.”

  “Yes, they can be very convincing.”

  I rubbed the spot on my finger where an engagement ring once sat. There were times when I thought I could still feel its weight. Every once in a while I’d have a brief moment of panic, thinking I’d left it somewhere or had lost it. And then everything would come crashing back down around me.

  “We obviously have something going on here. Between you and me. And setting aside Vivian’s castration threats, I don’t want to hurt you. Or scare you off.”

  “Okay.”

  “That’s what I meant. You know, before.” Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable. “I like you, Azalea. A lot. And I want you to like me.”

  “I do.”

  “Do you?” He took a step toward me, his face breaking into the grin that got me every time. “Really?”

  I bobbed my head, not trusting my voice.

  “So if we take it slow, you’re okay with that?”

  I nodded once more. I needed slow and cautious, but mostly I needed a reason to trust again.

  “You’re killing me with that dress.”

  “Do you really qualify for Mensa?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I suppose we’re even.”

  He took a couple more steps that brought him right up against me. “I really want to kiss you.”

  I lowered my gaze to his lips. “So why aren’t you?”

  He eased his arms around my waist as I slipped mine around his neck. We were millimeters from kissing when Juan Carlos banged on the door.

  “Azalea! Time to go.”

  Alex dropped his forehead to mine. “I hate him. I really, really hate him.”

  “He’s the one who made me look like this.”

  “I suppose I can forgive him just this once.”

  We broke apart, and I went to answer the door, while Alex took his suit into the bathroom to change.

  “Your timing sucks,” I told Juan Carlos.

  He examined me, touching a finger to his lips. “Not one hair out of place. You should be smudged, smashed, and thoroughly smooched up by now. He’s not smooshing you right. I had him pegged all wrong. I figured him for the type that takes his time, wrecking everything in his wake. Very disappointing.”

  “We weren’t… We’re not… What the heck is smooshing?”

  “Bumping uglies, knocking boots.” He made a rude gesture. “Smooshing.”

  I slapped a hand to my forehead. “Gah.” I couldn’t come up with a more coherent response than that.

  “Where are your earrings? You’re not even all the way ready.”

  I held out my palm, showing him my earrings. “Come in a minute while I put them on. Alex is changing. Where’s Richard? Isn’t he going, too?”

  He waved my question away. “He’s watching some sport with tight pants—football maybe. I told him he had some time because I knew you wouldn’t be ready.” He did a little pirouette for me. “How do I look?”

  I scrutinized his appearance. He’d gone for classic with a charcoal suit, cut very close, reminding me what a great body he had. His snowy-white shirt brought out his olive complexion, while the deep gold stripe on his tie was very nearly the color of his eyes. Funny, when you see a person every day you forget to really look at them. Juan Carlos was a very handsome man.

  I brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder. “You’re gorgeous.” Winking at him, I put a little flirt in my voice. “Sure you don’t want to come over to my side?”

  Alex came out of the bathroom and I forgot to breathe.

  “Ab-so-freakin-lutely not,” Juan Carlos murmured, fanning himself. “Gawd, why can’t I look like that in a suit? Those shoulders, that waist, the way it tapers right on down to… Honey, if you don’t jump him tonight, I just might.” He jiggled his leg. “I need a cold shower. I should have worn bigger pants.”

  I smacked Juan Carlos in the arm.

  “Thanks, Juan Carlos,” Alex said. “Are we ready to go?”

  We all filed out into the hall. I glanced up and down, expecting that man I’d seen earlier to still be making his rounds. Thankfully, he didn’t make an appearance. Alex and I waited while Juan Carlos rounded up Richard. I kept sneaking glances at Alex. I couldn’t help it. It was wrong for him to be prettier than me.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You keep looking at me, but not really looking. I thought we were okay.”

  “You’re like the sun.”

  “The sun?”

  “Yeah, I can’t look too long at you. Your beauty…it blinds.”

  He tucked his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful. Or been compared to the sun.” His mouth kicked up and he gave me a look that filled my head with visions of sweaty bodies and twisted bedsheets.

  I blew out a breath. This was going to be a long night.

  “Azalea.” Richard grabbed my hand and twirled me around. “You’re stunning. Absolutely breathtaking.” He held his arm out for me. “May I?”

  The taxi line was long, but it moved quickly and before I knew it, we were pulling up to the Raine Hotel where the awards were being held. Juan Carlos gawked like a backwoods hick, his head swiveling side to side like a pendulum.

  Alex leaned down to me. “Are you all right? I know it must be difficult being back here.”

  “I’m fine.” But I wasn’t really. That feeling of being watched sat like a Circus Circus elephant on my shoulders.

  I glanced around, pretending to look for someone I might know. If I was being watched, they were invi
sible, blending in with the other hairstylists, which was difficult to do. A woman—no, a man—dressed in a jumpsuit made of peacock feathers stood next to a woman wearing a skin-colored dress anatomically painted to make it appear as though she were nude. They were chatting with a man in a kilt and a woman in a tuxedo complete with top hat and cane.

  “Oh, there’s Black Jack,” Juan Carlos said. “Let’s go say hello.”

  We followed him across the room where a very large black man leaned an elbow on the bar, looking bored.

  “I’m constantly amazed at how he gets away with saying the things he does,” Alex whispered to me.

  “I know what you mean, but in this case that man’s name really is Black Jack.”

  We chatted with Black Jack and a few other friends who wandered over. Everyone was libationaly lubricated yet somber, speaking in hushed tones about Dhane’s and Trinity’s deaths. From aliens, to cults, to a murder-suicide, to a hoax that they’d faked their own deaths, theories abounded, each one more bizarre than the next. By the time the doors to the awards ballroom opened, my head spun. Somewhere in there, amongst the crazy speculations, assumptions, and downright manipulations was the truth about what had really happened to Dhane and Trinity.

  I looked up from swirling my straw in my piña colada to see Sora slip into the ladies’ room. I suddenly had the urge to use the facilities.

  “I’m going to go freshen up,” I announced.

  Thankfully Alex only nodded and didn’t offer to escort me. I pushed through the door, nearly colliding with another woman on her way out. Sora wasn’t at the mirror or the sinks, so she must have gone into a stall. I jockeyed for position at the mirror with two other ladies and pretended to take great interest in the minutia of my appearance just as they did. Finally Sora came out and bypassed the sinks for the mirror. Eww. I made a mental note to never shake hands with her again or eat at her house.

  She edged into place beside me, dislodging another woman in the process. My opinion of her slid another couple of notches.