The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1

by Sherry M. Siska

  “So, what exactly are we doing here? And, how long do you think it’s going to take? I told Harry I’d come watch the game tonight.”

  Carole actually managed to stop making eyes at Tim long enough to give me my instructions. “Basically, we’re doing a walk-through so I can get an idea of what I’m up against. If you find anything of value, bring it to me. I don’t think anyone would steal anything, but you never know, so I’m going to store it in my office. I have a safe in there. Also, financial documents. In fact, if you find any sort of personal papers, let me have them right away.”

  She indicated the papers on the card table. “I found some in the kitchen in one of the drawers, and I’ve already started going through them. I have to try and track down all of her accounts, so I’ll need to know her passwords and the answers to security questions. Hopefully, she had them written somewhere. Or used one of those ID vaults with her anti-virus. After that, I don’t know. I guess I’ll have to come up with a plan for getting it all done. It’s so overwhelming. I can’t begin to figure out how I’m going to get this all taken care of. I work on commission and I can’t afford to take off a bunch of time to deal with this. Not to mention, I’ve got to go out of town tomorrow night and I won’t be back until late Friday afternoon.”

  Okay, so I’m really not sure why I said what I did next, but, I guess I’d sort of forgotten about those crazy Fate Floozies. Big mistake.

  “Why don’t I do it? My sister, Charli, I’m sure she’d help me. You could give us the paperwork and tell us what to do, and we could take care of it for you. We’re really trust-worthy. Tim can vouch for us, can’t you, Tim?”

  He nodded and grinned and told Carole that Charli was the most honest, trustworthy person he knew. He failed to give me the same ringing endorsement, but Carole either didn’t notice or was so desperate for help that she didn’t care.

  “That would be amazing! I’ll drop the keys off at the radio station tomorrow morning along with a list of all the things you’ll need to do. Marcy, I mean Marty, I can’t thank you enough for this. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

  Carole sent me to look in Sabrina’s bedroom, which was even plainer than her living room. She had a queen sized bed with no headboard and a cheap dresser and nightstand, both of which were made of fiberboard covered with laminate made to simulate wood. The bed was unmade, which bothered me so much that I hardly looked at it. Her closet, a walk-in like the one in my apartment, held only about a dozen outfits and three pairs of shoes.

  There also were three cardboard boxes, but only one had stuff in it and, on first glance, it seemed to hold only winter clothes. Everything was very tidy and orderly. I checked out the dresser and nightstand drawers, but they, too, were fairly empty. Sabrina Lewis had been either one of those back to basics folks or extremely poor. I had a gut feeling it was the latter.

  Like the living room, the only personal item other than clothes was a University of Raleigh baseball media guide from what would have been Mark Donavan’s junior year and Harry’s senior season. I found it tucked underneath a couple of sweaters neatly folded in one of the boxes.

  Clearly, it seemed, Sabrina had known Mark Donavan when they were students. Or else she’d been a fan, had developed a crush on him, and stalked him. Was that possible? Maybe. I didn’t yet have enough insight into Sabrina’s personality yet to decide one way or the other.

  I crouched on the floor of her bedroom and poured over the guide. Both guys were featured in several of the pictures, looking pretty much the same, although Mark Donavan had worn his hair much shorter back then. They each also had a page with a large photo showing them in action, a section of personal info, and a box at the bottom featuring their personal stats. I learned that Harry had been a valedictorian at his high school and that Mark had been named second team all conference the previous year and had hit a walk-off home run in a playoff game.

  Several of the players’ pages were autographed, including both Mark’s and Harry’s, and Sabrina had drawn a little heart next to Mark’s signature. I thought about the autographs, wondering if it meant anything. Harry had said he hadn’t met her before. Of course, her having his and a bunch of other player signatures didn’t mean they’d actually met. I signed stuff all the time and barely paid a bit of attention to the person I was giving it to. I certainly wouldn’t have remembered ninety-nine percent of them.

  Other than the signatures, nothing in the guide supported or disproved my theory, so I put it back where I’d found it to show to Charli later. Perhaps she would see something I’d missed or have a better guess After about an hour I went back in the living room and told Carole I was going to have to call it a night.

  “We’re done too,” she said. “Tim went over to his place to get some beer. We’re going to chill for awhile down by the pool. You should join us.”

  I’d been right. Tim was more interested in hanging out with Carole than in going to the game with me. “No thanks. I promised Harry I’d come to the game. He’s supposed to pitch. Did you guys find anything important?”

  “Not really. The only things we found that I’m taking with me are her bank account records and a list of her on-line accounts and passwords, which I found written in a notebook in another one of the kitchen drawers. I’m assuming the computer is in the bedroom? I’ll go ahead and take it, too.”

  “Nope, sorry. It wasn’t in there. Maybe she has a laptop and left it in her car or at work or somewhere.”

  “Maybe,” Carole said. “I’ll check with the police in the morning and see if they found anything. I need to call the woman who owns the store, Mrs. Conner, again, and ask her if she’ll let me go in and look around. I sure hope so.”

  Clearly, then, Carole had not been the one in the shop earlier. I hesitated, almost telling her I’d thought someone had been inside earlier, but, again, chocked it up to a case of overactive imagination or some sort of visual trick.

  I also thought about mentioning Charli’s new venture, but I didn’t. I know it was wrong of me, but I wanted to have the first shot at looking around in there myself. If anything, being in Sabrina’s apartment had made me even more curious about the girl. I’d never seen anyone’s home so devoid of personal items. Hopefully, we’d find some things at the gift shop. Otherwise, Sabrina Lewis seemed destined to remain a mystery.

  I tried not to let it bug me that Tim was hanging out with Carole instead of going to the game with me, but it did. I wasn’t really looking forward to sitting by myself. Not to mention, I wasn’t exactly in the mood for baseball. But I did what any good wanna-be girlfriend does and headed off to the stadium to cheer for my man. Well, the man I sort of hoped might one day become my man. The fact that I was doing so while clad in a sleazy, cropped off shirt that made me want to wrap myself in a blanket didn’t make my mood any better.

  13

  There was a special promotion of some kind going on at the ballpark and the place was jam-packed with what seemed to be half the people in Glenvar. I ended up parking way over behind the right field wall, next to several tennis courts. A line of large, overgrown pine trees shielded both the tennis courts and the stadium wall from the lot. I hiked around to the front of the stadium and waited in line to pick up my ticket. While I waited, Harry texted, asking if I was still coming to the game. I shot a quick text back, explaining that I’d had to park out in the boondocks and would be in the stands shortly.

  The place was even more packed inside. I couldn’t take two steps without seeing someone I knew. Giselle was even there, her trusty assistant, Alejandro, in tow. They were waiting with a stadium employee for one of the elevators. I assumed to take them up to the boxes reserved for “special” guests. Giselle was loudly talking about it, and about how she was throwing out the first pitch, making sure that everyone in an eight state radius could hear. Herb and Georgina were also at the game. I didn’t actually get close enough to talk to them, but Herb’s bright orange suit with humongous lemons embroidered on it made them pre
tty hard to miss.

  I also saw Big Ed again, this time waiting in line at one of the beer carts. I attempted to sneak over to say hey, but he bolted as soon as he caught sight of me. I was beginning to wonder if I smelled bad or something, especially since he’d split before he got his beer.

  I was starving, so bought a chicken strip and fries basket and a large fountain root beer. Finally, just in time to see Giselle attempt to throw out the first pitch, I arrived at my seat, one row behind where I’d sat with Charli and John Sunday night.

  Harry was pacing back and forth in front of the dugout, looking nervous. When he saw me, though, he waved and mouthed “thank you”, I assumed for my having worn the hideous shirt. I waved back and blew him a kiss, then settled into my seat. Once I got comfy, I pulled out my phone to text Charli. I had lots to talk to her about: my volunteering us to inventory Sabrina’s apartment, her possibly buying the shop, and me finding the card at my apartment. I led with the card.

  Right as I punched send, Tessa, the other Debbie, dropped down into the seat next to me. She had on the same cropped-off Bomber’s shirt as mine, and a pair of really short cut-offs. Her legs were about eight miles long, but were very thin, as was the rest of her. I hate to admit it, but even I looked better in the tiny tee than she did. At least my ribs weren’t poking out.

  She turned around and chatted with two girls in the row behind us. They were evidently player girlfriends or wives because they talked about their guys and hoped they’d have a better game that night.

  Charli replied to my text with a “Wow!” and I sent her a reply asking if she still had the card Big Ed had given me, the one we’d tossed in the trash. Instead of texting, she called me right away

  “Sorry, the trash ran today, so I emptied everything last night. Do you remember the name of the website?”

  “Yes. I actually found another one like it earlier today.” I pulled the card out of my backpack. “It’s called modelmagnifica.com. Can you look it up? I’d do it but I’m at the ballpark and Harry’s getting ready to pitch. Plus, you know how finicky my phone is. It takes forever to load a site. Call me back. I’ve got some other stuff to tell you, too.”

  She promised she would and ended the call. When I looked up, Tessa was staring at me.

  “Aren’t you that girl who was with Harry the other night?” She whispered the rest. “The girl whose apartment was.…”

  I held out my hand. “Yes. Marty.”

  She gave me a limp handshake.“I’m Tessa. Sorry to have listened in, but why were you asking about Model Magnifica? Are you thinking of auditioning?”

  “You know about the modeling agency?”

  Tessa laughed. “Of course. I’m on the card.” She dug down into her purse, a leather patchwork one of the same brand as Sabrina’s missing bag, and handed me a card. It was a duplicate of the one I was holding. And the one I’d found on my kitchen table. The fourth one I’d seen in three days.

  I held up the two cards and compared the photo on them to the real live girl next to me. “Okay, I recognize you now. When I first saw the card, I thought the picture was of someone I’d met. It looks like you, but it’s really different, too.”

  She smiled happily. “I know. I love it. It took us about four hours and a lot of wine to get that shot.” She whispered again. “And, don’t tell, but we partied it up with some other goodies too. Bet you’d never guess I was stark naked the entire time. I think that really helped set the mood. All in all, A.J. did a great job. He’s a master photographer. He’ll be heading off for the big time before you know it. Glenvar is way too small for a man of his talents. Hopefully, when he goes, he’ll take me with him.”

  “How long have you been modeling?”

  “Oh, gosh, girl, like, since I was a baby. My mom used to enter me in those pageants. I’ve got one hundred and thirteen crowns and trophies from pageants, and I was in about thirty local commercials and ads when I was a kid. I’ve been with Model Magnifica for two years now. Since I was nineteen. It doesn’t quite pay the bills yet, but I made enough last year to buy a new car. I’m hoping to quit my day job in a few months, so I got a Subaru. I wanted one of those ‘vettes, you know like Giselle St. James drives, but Carole talked me out of it. She said I needed to build up a nest egg before I quit the salon. She’s investing my money for me. That Carole, man, she is so freakin’ smart. I tell you, girl, if you need someone to take care of your money, you should hire her.”

  The players were introduced and took their places on the field, each accompanied by a couple of little league kids for the “Dreams Come True” promotion. They all took off their hats and a local fifteen year old warbled her way through the national anthem, doing a pretty good job until the last wavering note, and finally the game got underway. Harry was starting, so he stood on the mound, ready to fire in the first pitch. I was torn. I had questions, lots and lots of questions, for Tessa, but I also had come to the game to watch Harry pitch. I’m okay at multi-tasking, but not great. I decided I’d have to give it a try.

  Harry’s first three pitches were all wide right and his fourth one was wild. Yikes. The manager trotted out to the mound to talk to him. I turned to Tessa.

  “You work at a salon too? Which one?”

  “Chez Alejandro. I’m a lead stylist. Of course, I’m only there part time now that I’m doing so much modeling.”

  “I know Alejandro. He’s been hanging out with Giselle during our radio show the past couple of days.”

  “He told me he’d tried to get you to come in for a makeover. He thinks you have potential.” She studied me critically. “I agree. You’re too short for the fashion stuff, but around here it’s mostly lifestyle shoots anyway. You’d look really great with shorter hair. We could go asymmetrical. Straighten it and hit it with some color. Girl, you’d look sick as a platinum blonde! We could do some highlights and lowlights for depth. Shape up your brows. Do you ever wear make-up? Not that you need it, but a little blush, a coat of mascara, and a kick-ass shade of pink on your lips would totally perk up your complexion.”

  These people were relentless. And the last thing I wanted was to look “sick”, even if Tessa meant it as a good thing.

  “Well, like I told him, I’m not interested in having a makeover or being fixed. I’m happy to just go along as I am. I like being able to put my hair in a ponytail and last time I wore make-up, I woke up the next day with mascara and lipstick smeared all over my face. I like to have never got that stuff off. I prefer the natural look.”

  She dug back down into her bag and handed me yet another card, this one a duplicate of Alejandro’s. She reached back in for a pen and scribbled her name on the back and a different number. “Well, if you change your mind, give me a call. That’s my cell. I’ll give you a discount. We could do a basic cut and color for three hundred. The works, including the brows and a makeup lesson, for about five.”

  I nearly choked on my root beer. The last cut I’d gotten had set me back all of seventeen bucks. Heck, even Mom didn’t pay three hundred for a cut and color. After all, this was Glenvar, Virginia, not New York City. Her stylist only charged about ninety.

  I promised Tessa I’d consider it, then turned my attention back to the mound. Harry’s next few pitches weren’t any better than the first ones. When he’d loaded up the bases with the first three batters, the manager trotted back out and talked to him again. Harry rotated his arm around a couple of times and the manager nodded and motioned for a new pitcher. Harry tossed his glove on the ground and kicked it, picked it back up, and trudged off the field.

  “Uh oh,” Tessa said. “I hope you weren’t planning on having fun with him tonight. He’s going to be wallowing in misery. If I were you, I’d leave now, buy a big bottle of vodka, and be waiting for him in my sluttiest lingerie. If you get him relaxed and drunk, maybe you won’t have to listen to him whine and complain and cry all night.”

  “Thanks, but Harry and I aren’t really in that sort of relationship yet. We only met a few
days ago. We’re taking it slow.”

  She gawked at me like I’d lost my mind. “You mean you aren’t sleeping with Harry the Hottie? Girl, you better get your hands on that man like yesterday, or you’ll lose him! He’s gorgeous. And almost rich. He got a six figure signing bonus. Two hundred and thirty-eight thousand, paid out over three years. Plus he’s making triple A money still. If he wasn’t hurt, I’d probably even go for him myself. It’s too bad about this shoulder thing. He probably had the best shot of anyone on this team other than Mark Donavan at making it to the bigs. Now, who knows?”

  It was my turn to gawk. I couldn’t believe she knew how much Harry’s signing bonus had been. Obviously, I was right about her being a fan girl. “How do you know so much about Harry?”

  “Girl, I make it my business to know about these guys. I know it sounds wacky, but I’m planning to hook up with a rising superstar one of these days and when I do, I don’t want any surprises. That’s why I’m all about the research. You can pretty much find out anything you want to know about anybody with a little bit of digging.”

  I was shocked, but morbidly curious at the same time. “What about your boyfriend? Is he a big-time prospect?”

  She laughed. “Doug? Heck to the no, girl! He’s a fun guy. Too middle class, mamma’s boy for me. He’ll probably never make it past single A. I mean, he’s got talent, but he’s not big league prospect material. He’ll muddle around for a couple more seasons, work for his dad or his uncle in the off- season, finally get cut and will probably be living in East Nowhere, sporting a beer gut and selling cars or insurance by the time he’s thirty. Nope, Dougie is all right to hit the sack with every now and again, but I want a guy who’s going places. Someone who can help my career, maybe even get me on one of those reality shows, you know?”