Makeup & Murder: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 1

by Stephanie Damore

  “Sorry,” I said, even though the guy couldn’t hear me. I wasn’t trying to be a creeper, or maybe he didn’t care. Maybe girls only worried about things like that.

  The security guard, Miles, was outside, stretching by his post when we pulled in. Knowing Miles, the afternoon matinee was on commercial break. That was about the only time the elderly man stepped outside the little square booth. When the Mercedes drove up, Miles waved and walked closer, leaning into the car’s rolled-down window. The two men seemed to know each other quite well, talking as they did, and ignoring the fact that I was idling behind them. I was patient, more or less, because I had to be, and still smiled when Miles waved me through next.

  When I pulled through, the Mercedes was directly ahead, weaving the same pattern through the complex’s twists and turns that I needed to take. You’d think the driver lived there, but there was no way he was close to fifty, which was the complex’s minimum age requirement. I figured he must have been here visiting someone just as I was; only, I was curious as to who.

  Before the Mercedes pulled down my parents’ street, I had already decided to follow it. I mean, I had followed him this far, might as well figure out who he was visiting. The driver tapped the breaks just past my parents’ condo and slowed, pulling into Inez’s driveway. Not wanting to seem like a stalker, I turned into my parents’ driveway at the last minute and reached above to the sun visor for their garage door opener. But, I didn’t park inside the garage. Tomorrow, after all, was trash day. I took advantage of the situation and fed my curiosity by rolling out the green plastic trash bin from the garage and taking it to the curb. It smelled awful. I struggled, wheeling the heavy bin down the driveway, while holding my breath and trying to keep an eye on Inez’s visitor.

  The result was a disaster. I knew there was a crack at the bottom of the driveway; but of course, I wasn’t thinking about it. As the bin’s front set of wheels hit the crack, the whole bin wobbled sideways, popping the top off it, sending a stomach-churning wave of pungent trash odor up my nose. I almost tossed my cookies. The trash bags fell out into the driveway, and the empty bin skidded into the road. I created more of a scene than I had meant to, and quickly retrieved the trash bin and hefted a bag of trash back into it.

  “Here, let me help you.” Inez’s visitor was picking up another trash bag in his designer suit coat and jeans before I could even say thank you. I was betting Eric and this guy knew each other, based upon the way they dressed.

  I bent down to pick up the last trash bag and, when I stood back up and met the man’s eyes, I was thrown back to the night at the strip club. What was the Boss Man doing at Inez’s house? I was positive it was him. My mouth tingled like it did when I had a sugar rush, and I knew I was on to something.

  “Thanks for your help—”

  “Delgado, Vincent Delgado.” The man filled in his name.

  Holy hell. I wasn’t prepared for that one. I took a step back like prey does when it realizes it’s caught the attention of a predator.

  Danger, danger, my mind signaled to me.

  What the higgidy heck was Delgado doing here? Did he know where I was headed and he was trying to get me alone? I plastered on a megawatt smile and tried to form a coherent thought. I looked around to see if any neighbors were out. Mr. Willard was walking his toy poodle a half a block ahead, but he would be useless if Delgado made a move.

  What I learned in that moment was that when faced with a dangerous situation, only two possibilities exist—fight or flight. I’m embarrassed to say that in this case I high-tailed it out of there as fast as my heels would take me. I thanked Delgado again for his help and marched straight up the driveway, through the garage, and up to the back door. I jiggled the door knob a few times before realizing that I never unlocked it. My keys were still in my truck. I walked along the side edge of the garage and peered out. Delgado was gone, but his car was still there. I dashed out to my truck, as if it were pouring rain, and grabbed my purse through the rolled-down window. Running back, I had the door unlocked, locked, and dead bolted in five seconds flat. The crazy smile stayed stuck on my face the entire time.

  I crept around the condo as if Delgado were watching me, keeping a low profile and avoiding walking in front of open windows. In the hallway, I walked sideways with my back against the banister, pausing at the front door to peer out the peephole. I couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t matter. My nerves were still charged with enough electricity to shock myself silly. You followed him, I reminded myself. Unless he knew where you were going, my mind countered once more. I didn’t see how that was possible, but I wasn’t being the most rationale individual at the moment. Then, I struck on the most important question of all: what was Vincent Delgado doing at Inez’s?

  I tiptoed up the stairs, knowing the best vantage point was the guest bedroom window. Up in the room, I took position below the window frame and lifted one of the inch-thick horizontal blinds and looked out. Inez’s place looked unremarkably quiet. I held my ground for a couple of minutes until my head became light. With a quick intake of air, I realized that I’d been holding my breath. “This is ridiculous.” I dropped the blind and sat down, leaning against the wall. “I’m sure Delgado has a perfectly reasonable explanation for being at Inez’s. This has nothing to do with you.” See, I did still possess some common sense. The man probably thought I was a total nut ball for the way I just acted. I closed my eyes for a moment to regain my composure and center myself. All my yoga practice was coming in handy, and I was calm in no time.

  The sound of a car door shutting, quickly changed that. I peered out the window so fast that I pitched myself forward and fell into the blinds. So much for being inconspicuous. My hand fumbled for the blind’s dangling white cord, and I tugged it hard. The blinds shot up and swayed across the window from the force. It was too late. Delgado had disappeared.

  “He’s gone? Why? What’s his hurry?” I was on my feet, down the stairs, and walking out the front door before I could reason with myself not to. I was just as bad as Mrs. J., running over to Inez’s like this. What was I going to say when she opened the door? I should have grabbed a few beauty samples, or a catalog, something, anything to justify my visit.

  I rang the bell anyway. Looked like I was going to have to pretend I was purely making a social call. Maybe I could ask a question about my parents’ plants. Lord knew Inez knew a thing or two about gardening.

  Inez opened the door and greeted me with a smile. “Ziva, you’re right on time.” She held the door for me to come in. “Now we have a full table for Bridge!” I looked over her shoulder and saw two older ladies sitting at the kitchen table. “Although, I’d appreciate it if you’d call me back in the future,” she added under her breath.

  Nooooo, Inez’s afternoon bridge game. I tried to hide the look of horror on my face. It looked like my curiosity had finally caught up with me, and I’d be paying for it all afternoon.

  The ladies didn’t care that I had no idea how to play the game. I had no clue how many cards I was supposed to have, what trump was, or even how to bid. It was a little hard to focus on the game’s rules with Inez rambling away, and us being surrounded by the hundreds of flowers that adorned the walls of her crazy floral-motif kitchen. Inez’s kitchen sported sunflower wallpaper, pink rose dish towels, and framed puzzles she told me she was proud to have completed. One was a yellow and red tulip field, and another one an explosion of lavender plants in bloom. The only thing her décor had in common was flowers. It was a decorative collage in the worst sort of fashion. Even the cards we were playing with, and Inez’s blouse, were adorned with blooms. I was happy when Inez’s friend Doris complained of the heavily perfumed floral air freshener, and Inez reluctantly agreed to unplug it. “But, I love the smell of lilac!” It was almost enough to have me take a sinus pill.

  Eventually, through all the flower madness, I managed to get the game’s basics down. After we were into the second hand, Inez finally took a breath from talking about plan
ning the church bazar and who had recently died, and I could say, “So, I couldn’t help but notice your visitor this afternoon.”

  “You saw Tico, did you?” Inez said.

  “Tico?” I asked.

  “Well, I guess he goes by Vincent now, but he’ll always be my little Tico,” Inez said.

  Vincent Delgado was Inez’s grandson. Well, wasn’t that interesting?

  “So, that’s why you came running over. I told you he was a looker. I bet now you want me to set you up. You just say the word and I’ll call him. How about I call him right now? Maybe I can get him to join us for some tea. Oh, but you kids don’t have tea now, do you? No, you probably drink that fancy coffee. What’s it called? Cappuccino. We didn’t have any of those trendy coffee houses when we were younger. Who wants to sit around and drink coffee anyway? I bet you probably want to go out dancing. Isn’t that what we used to do back in the day, ladies?” Inez’s friends nodded their heads. “It’s a shame he couldn’t join us for our game. I asked him to, but he already had plans, probably at the office. He works too hard. I can tell you that. The stress is starting to show in his eyes. He needs a vacation, but I know he won’t take one, so I don’t say anything. I wish he would though.”

  I was getting used to Inez’s ramblings. I knew that if I just let her keep talking, eventually she’d stop and I could ask a question.

  “What does he do?” I asked at the first opportunity. I wondered how much Inez knew about Delgado’s work.

  “He’s an entrepreneur, like you, and such a sweet boy.” I doubted he was anything like me. Smuggling goods and selling makeup weren’t exactly synonymous entrepreneurships.

  Inez continued, “He takes care of me, that he does. He feels the need to protect me and, good heavens, I can’t imagine why.”

  Maybe because he’s a super corrupt businessman with plenty of enemies? I thought.

  “Tico bought me my car, my condo, even my new washer and dryer, even though there was nothing wrong with the old ones. He said he wanted to be proactive, that’s the word he used, and not have my washer go out on me when I least expected it. After my dear Miguel passed away, Tico insisted on taking care of me, and that he has. He promised his grandpa he would and he has kept his word above and beyond what I could ever ask of him. This grandma has no complaints. Every time he stops by, he makes me smile. I tell you what, I am truly blessed.”

  “You could say that. I’d be happy if I could just get my grandson to go to church, but Lord knows that ain’t gonna happen,” Doris said. “Yours not only goes to church, but picks you up for it, too, and takes you out for brunch.” Everyone nodded as if that sealed it. Delgado was the best grandson ever.

  Inez misread my incredulous expression. “See, I told you. You two have so much in common, being in business the way you are, and you’re both such sweethearts. I’m sure you would hit it off in a heartbeat,” she said.

  “If you go out, make sure he takes you to Inez’s,” added Claire, our fourth Bridge partner.

  “Inez’s? What am I missing?” I asked. I was sure they didn’t mean come back over here for dinner. At least, that’s what I was hoping. Dinner with Delgado and Inez would make it the longest date of my life, and I’m not sure I could’ve handled that, or ever wanted to.

  “It’s the name of his restaurant,” Doris whispered.

  Seriously? Delgado owned a restaurant as well, and named it after his grandma? That was just great. Detective Brandle’s prime murder suspect turned out to be Grandson of the Year. I wondered if Inez knew about the strip club, and what she thought of it. I didn’t dare bring it up and tarnish the image of her beloved grandson, or embarrass her among her girlfriends. Had we been alone, I would’ve chanced it. Not today though. Plus, I’d have to explain how I came about the information or make something up. Basically, it required me to think it through a bit more before I divulged my secrets.

  After listening to Inez go on and on, it seemed hard to believe that Tico and Vincent Delgado were the same person. I couldn’t see how a church-going, grandma-loving boy could be a mafia-running murderer. This was the type of story that true crime journalists loved to get their hands on. I’d probably find Delgado’s double-life more entertaining, had he not been threatening mine. Delgado was turning out to be one man I wanted to meet for myself, but not on a date. No, I was meeting him on my terms, preferably in a group setting.

  Wait, that’s it!

  In a stroke of sheer genius, I knew just what to do.

  “Inez, do you think Vincent’s working tonight?” I asked.

  “Oh, I’m sure he is. He doesn’t think that restaurant of his can survive a Friday night without him. I’ve told him countless times that it can, but he doesn’t listen to me one bit. Thinks he has to be there every weekend. I told him to take Mondays off then, but he told me he can’t do that either.”

  Perfect. There was no time like the present for a girls’ night out, and I knew just the place to go.

  14

  Good heavens, could those ladies play Bridge. I was sure Inez loved playing bridge as much as she loved talking about her grandson. In fact, over the course of the three hours I was there, I believe she told me everything about Delgado—from the time he was born, up until he stopped by her house that afternoon. We talked about where he went to college, where he had lived, his first failed marriage (which of course, wasn’t his fault), his beautiful daughter, whom I believed was the only person Inez loved as much as Delgado, and even where he loved to vacation. The man owned a Caribbean island, for cripes sake. Inez told me everything she could think of to make me want to date him, everything except what I really wanted to know. As soon as I was out Inez’s front door, I had Aria on the phone.

  “Hey, girlie, you got any plans tonight?” I asked.

  “Not yet, what’s up? You thinking about hitting the town?” she asked.

  “Thinking about it. There’s this new restaurant I want to try out in Savannah, and then I was thinking about getting some drinks. You down?” I was counting on Inez being right, and that Delgado would be at the restaurant. If not, Aria and I would be hitting the strip club after dinner. I decided ahead of time that I’d fill Aria in on the plan later, after it had been a success. I was worried she go all parental on me if I told her about Delgado and his reputation, and what I expected he was guilty of.

  “Should be. Let me call my mom and see if she minds if Arjun spends the night. Do you care if I invite Sasha? She’s been wanting to go out for ages, and I keep blowing her off.” Sasha was Aria’s crazy girlfriend. The one who never turned down a good time. Ever. Let me put it this way, if the bar had a mechanical bull, she was riding it. Come to think of it, Sasha’s antics would provide the perfect distraction for me to freely scope out Delgado.

  “No, that’s cool. See if she wants to come along,” I said.

  “Okay, I’ll text you and let you know what’s up. If it’s all good, we’ll probably be at your place around eight,” Aria said.

  “Sounds good, girlie. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up the phone and checked the time. Six o’clock. Perfect timing. I had just enough time to get home and get diva’d up. Vincent Delgado better watch out because, tonight, Ziva Diaz is rolling into town.

  “Dang, girl. You’re pulling out the big guns tonight.” It was quarter after eight, and Aria and Sasha had just pulled up in Raja’s red sports car.

  “We’re going out in style. Love the dress, by the way,” Aria said, and laughed. I was wearing her peacock-blue poppy print dress that had the tendency to fall off my shoulder. What can I say? Showing a little skin never hurt. I was hoping the dress would hold Delgado’s attention and get him to forget my crazy behavior earlier that day.

  “I knew you’d like it. The shoes are all mine though.” Against my better judgment, I wore a pair of silver-spiked heels that did fabulous things for my legs. My ex used to love them, which should’ve been my first clue to switch them out, but no man was worth ditching a pair of heels, even if I
knew my feet would kill me come morning.

  Sasha slipped into the backseat, literally. I would’ve gladly moved the seat for her, but she just scooted on back and disappeared between the seats, showing off her red undies in the process. That was Sasha for you.

  “Talk about loving the dress,” I said. Aria looked gorgeous in a red satin dress and cork heels. Thick spiral curls framed her face and cascaded down her back. Aria had done the opposite of me, and played up her lips instead of her eyes. She wore a chocolate-raspberry-colored lipstick with a gold-tinted lip gloss that gave her pucker a sparkly shine. The shade matched perfectly with her fourteen-carat polished nails.

  “Look out, Savannah. We’re looking hot tonight!” Sasha said. I had to agree with her, even if I could have done without her silver sequined slip dress. At least she’d be easy to find on the dance floor, or she could fill in for the disco ball if the one at the club broke.

  We pulled up in front of the Inez’s just before nine. The restaurant was housed in a renovated warehouse in downtown Savannah, a couple blocks up from River Street. Silver-plated doors with Inez’s etched on the front, told us we were at the right place. When we walked in, I was taken aback by the beautiful artwork and warm interior. Vibrant paintings and striking black-and-white photographs set off the exposed red brick walls, creating a much more intimate atmosphere than I had expected. Overhead, an intricate glass-blown chandelier made me stop and stare. I couldn’t get over the explosion of red, orange, and yellow glass flowers. It looked like a summer bouquet on steroids.

  Sasha giggled and I looked over at her to see what was up. Of course, she had to find that one painting that looked the slightest bit provocative, and point it out. It’s not like you could really see anything. The style was abstract, of course; but if you used a little bit of imagination, it made you wonder if the man was really clothed at all. Perhaps we shouldn’t have invited Sasha. Inez’s was a classier place than I had expected. There was no mechanical bull.