The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1

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The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1 Page 62

by Sherry M. Siska


  “What about Carole? Have y’all found her yet?

  “Still missing. I’m really worried. She still hasn’t responded to my calls or texts. Tessa said the last time she’d seen her was before she left to meet me at Pilazzo’s.”

  While he was talking, it occurred to me that he still didn’t know about Carole owning the model agency. One more thing for him to get mad about, but I knew I couldn’t keep it from him. Especially since she could be in grave danger.

  He was stunned. “Are you sure?”

  I handed him the card she’d dropped at Albertino’s. “I’m guessing that since you didn’t know, neither does Detective Winger.”

  Tim immediately called him back with the new info. “He’s sending a squad car over to check the agency and the salon out. Anything else you’ve been hiding from me?”

  I hesitated, but finally told him all about the sex site. He was even more stunned. And really, really upset.

  “How could I have been so dad gummed stupid? I thought she was a nice girl. High quality. Marty, what the heck is wrong with you? You should have told me. I feel like a total fool. I thought you were my friend. Someone who cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt. I gotta go. Call me if it’s an emergency. Otherwise, don’t bother.”

  He didn’t storm out like I would have expected. Instead, he was deadly quiet and calm. So calm that it scared me. I worried, in fact, that our friendship was maybe, finally, over. And I didn’t think I could bear it.

  27

  Of course, by the time Wednesday night rolled around, I wasn’t in the mood for the “Party in the Park”, but, contractually, I was obligated to co-host with Giselle. The rest of the day on Tuesday and most of Wednesday had been a blur of anxiety and tears. Tim and I hadn’t spoken since he’d left, although Charli had talked to him several times, checking to see if there was any news about Carole or the investigation. Carole still hadn’t been located. He also told her that, pending autopsy results, the cause of death for Big Ed appeared to be from a lethal combination of GHB, alcohol, and speed.

  At four, I put on a pair of khaki shorts and a WRRR golf shirt, and drove to the ball park. I still looked pretty awful, but not as bad as I had on Monday or Tuesday. Mom and Charli’s regular hair dresser had come over to Charli’s and taken care of my hair, cutting it into a short curly do. It didn’t look half bad, although it was too short to put into a ponytail. The color, a mix of bright orange and greenish-brown, I had to live with until it grew out since I’d had such a severe reaction. Fortunately, most of the hives were gone and the flaky dermatitis on my forehead and eyelids was starting to clear up.

  I got to the park about thirty minutes before the gates opened. Giselle was already there, dressed in the sleaziest outfit yet, a skimpy bikini-like top and a pair of extra short, bun-huggers. We did a quick run-through of the script; fortunately, we were only going to be on stage together when it came time to introduce Ricky Ray, with whom we were supposed to chat. The “chat” of course, was totally scripted so as to promote his latest album and upcoming tour.

  Because of our past history, Ricky Ray’s manager had demanded that he and I have as little interaction as possible, so he didn’t appear for the practice session. Instead, Herb, dressed in a navy blue and red suit with stars, stripes, and eagles, all done up in sequins, on the front, back, and both pant legs, stood in for him.

  They’d set up a low stage, about two feet off the ground, over the pitcher’s mound and in front of it was the gelatin wrestling pit, an inflatable pool filled with bright green goo. The powers that be had decided two lucky fans would win a cornucopia of gifts, including a trip to Ricky Ray’s Miami concert, complete with airline tickets and hotel accommodations. The only catch was that they had to agree to participate in a gelatin wrestling contest.

  Everything went fairly smoothly for the first part of the show, with only a couple of minor snafus involving our microphones. Then, it was time.

  I hadn’t seen Ricky Ray in a few weeks and that encounter, like all of the ones we’d had since our breakup, had gone very poorly. Mainly, because I’d sort of, on purpose, smashed one of his favorite guitars. After Giselle gave him a rousing, asinine introduction, he strutted across the stage like he owned it. He stopped, though, about five feet from me and gawked.

  Suddenly a big grin crossed his face and he got a mischievous look in his eyes. Uh oh. He covered the stage between us in three steps and wrapped me in a bear hug, nearly smothering me. He put me down and spun me so that I was facing the standing-room-only crowd. Giselle was already facing them, preening and posing, but at the same time trying to get as close to Ricky as she could to ensure maximum television exposure. Or, I guess, overexposure.

  “Y’all give it on up for these two gorgeous lookin’ gals,” Ricky said. Then, he goosed me. I jumped and when I did, I somehow pitched forward toward the edge of the stage, right into Giselle, who’d pranced her way to the very edge, almost directly in front of me. I reached out to steady myself, or rather, catch myself, and hit her in the back. She grabbed me and we both plopped off the stage and into the pool filled with the slimy gelatin.

  Giselle shrieked and tried to get to her feet, using my head and hair for leverage. I wasn’t really thrilled with that course of action, so latched on to her wrist and twisted, trying to get her to let go. She must have taken that as a sign of aggression because, suddenly, I was on my back in the pool with her sitting on my chest, yanking my shoulders up and down, trying to bang my head against the bottom of the pool. Every time I went down, the gooey gel got closer and closer to my nose.

  I hadn’t drowned out at Glenvar Lake and, by God, I wasn’t about to die in an inflatable pool filled with slime.

  I wrenched to the left and bucked her off of me. She still had hold of one of my arms, but I easily slipped out. She tried to head butt me, and we were back down, slapping and tearing at each other. The crowd thought it was part of the show and cheered wildly. Ricky Ray used the microphone to full advantage, egging them on.

  Eventually two of the members of the event staff decided to break us up. As I learned later, they would have let us continue, but we were flinging the gel out of the pool at an alarming rate and they didn’t have any extra to refill it for the real wrestling contest.

  “You jerk!” I screamed at Ricky Ray.

  I’d have attacked, and thrown him into the gel, if the guy who’d pulled me out of the pool hadn’t been bear-hugging me. I tried to fight my way out of his grasp, but he just squeezed tighter. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

  Ricky flashed that famous grin of his and launched into his biggest hit, “Come on Girl, Give Me a Whirl”. The crowd roared in approval. I stopped fighting, knowing I was licked.

  I was covered with the slimy green goop, which felt even more disgusting as it slid off my body. It was in places where there should not ever be food products. The guy who held me felt some modicum of sympathy for me. Either that or he didn’t want any more of the goo on himself than was already there.

  “Come with me,” he said. “I’ll take you down to the locker room and get you a clean shirt and some gym shorts. You can grab a shower, get that off.”

  I followed him downstairs. He stopped at an equipment room, found the clothes and grabbed a towel for me. “You’ll have to hurry. Ricky Ray and his band are using it as a sort of green room, so he’ll be down between sets.”

  I went in and looked around to make sure no one else was inside before I started to strip off my clothes. The front part, which consisted of a series of offices for the managers and coaches, was empty. Toward the back was the player’s lounge, which I knew from a previous visit had two big screen TVs, a couple of game systems, several cushy chairs, and two leather sofas. Someone had left the TV on or else was in there watching. I peeked in and immediately wished that I hadn’t.

  Mark Donavan lounged in one of the chairs staring blindly at the television. I tried to duck back out before he saw me, but was too late.
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br />   “Oh, hey,” he said. “I just couldn’t do it, you know? All those people, wanting a piece of me.” He seemed to suddenly tune in to my appearance. “Wow, you look awful. What happened?”

  I gave him a brief explanation of why I was covered with the nasty looking gelatin.

  “No. I mean your hair and all those splotches.”

  “Oh. I got a makeover. It, uh, it didn’t go so well.”

  He cackled. “That’s an understatement. So, I guess Harry gave you the old heave-ho once he saw you, hunh?”

  “How’d you know?”

  He leaned his head back and laughed loudly. “Hon, I’ve been watching Harry “The Hottie” Evans operate since we were kids. Didn’t he tell you? He likes his sandwiches plain, his beer cold, and his women beautiful. Sorry to tell you, sweetheart, but you ain’t got it right now in the beautiful department.”

  “Is that why he dumped Sabrina?”

  Mark instantly sobered up. “You know?”

  “Not really. Just guessing.”

  “I never knew myself until a couple of days ago. Sabrina had told me she’d had a baby back when she was a senior in high school, but she wouldn’t tell me anything else about it, except that she’d given the baby up for adoption to a really great family and that the guy was someone she’d met at school. Actually, as it turned out, they met at the bar Harry and I worked at one summer. To Harry, it meant nothing. Like always. To her, of course, it was everything.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “Tessa told me.”

  We would have probably continued talking, but the guy who’d brought me down to use the shower stuck his head in to make sure I was okay and to prod me along.

  “I guess I’d better get back up there,” Mark said. “Marty, a word of advice: stay away from Harry. He’s pretty on the outside, but the guy is rotten to the core.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. After my shower, I thought about returning to the party, but decided that my services were no longer required. The replacement for the phone I’d drowned was a cheap model that was even worse about getting service than the previous one, especially since it had taken a gelatin bath. I had to wait until I reached my car to have enough bars to call Charli and tell her what I’d just learned.

  “Crazy,” she said. “By the way, I just saw Tessa pull into Harry’s driveway. Do you think I should go over there or call the cops or something?”

  “No. She’s probably over there paying him a service call or something like that. Slime ball.”

  Carole’s silver Beemer pulled up to the side of the stadium where the player’s entrance was. I dropped the phone call, ran over, and jumped in front of it. She rolled down her window. “What?”

  “Where have you been? Everyone is looking for you. They’ve been worried.”

  She opened the door and climbed out. “I know. I had to go out of town on some really important business. Stupid me, I left my phone in my office. When I finally had a chance to call Tessa, I found out my brother was dead. Murdered. I was too scared to come back. But, now, I have to. I have the evidence to put the lousy, no-good, scumbag behind bars.”

  “You know.”

  She nodded. “Tessa told Ed. Ed told me. Harry killed Sabrina. He killed Ed. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

  “Did you know about the baby?”

  “Not until you gave me the birth certificate and the log book. I started putting things together then. I called Mrs. Thomas to tell her about the account and about Sabrina. She cried. Then, she told me what she knew. She said that Sabrina had told her the baby’s father was a ballplayer and that he wanted no part of it. He signed the paper giving up his parental rights as soon as Sabrina told him she was pregnant. I drove down to Raleigh and paid off some people. I wanted to see it for myself.”

  “It was just a fling for him. One of many, I suspect.” I was grateful I hadn’t been one of them. “She must have been really mixed up. I’m guessing, but I think she moved here purposefully to try and get to Harry through Mark. She must have been really surprised when Harry got sent down here.”

  Carole agreed. “Look, Marty, I’m really sorry about not coming clean about Ed being my brother. We thought it best to keep our relationship secret. Tessa and A.J. are the only ones who knew. It’s just that, well, it’s really complicated. I thought if people associated the two of us, it would hurt my business.”

  “How come you didn’t tell us that you’re the owner of the agency?”

  “I guess I was embarrassed and, again, I thought it might hurt my financial planning business. When I was a teenager, I wanted so badly to be a model. To be famous and rich and have important friends. But I don’t have the right looks for it. You have to realize, Ed and I, we grew up really poor. Our pop ran out on us when we were babies. My mom, she tried, but she had serious self esteem issues. She went from one guy to another.”

  Sort of like Ed and all of his women. “How did you turn out so well?”

  “I didn’t,” she said. “Look, I know you found out about the agency and about their little side venture. I didn’t know they were making porn or had set up that site until last fall. I caught them one night. All three of them were high as a kite. Tessa, she’s an ecstasy fiend, and they were mixing it with wine and moonshine and all kinds of prescription stuff. You’re going to think I’m a horrible person, but I didn’t do anything to stop them. Because of the website, the agency was making seriously good money and I needed money. I like nice things. I make okay money as a financial planner, but it’s not making me rich. With the sex site, well, I was making enough money to start seeing my way out of this crappy town.”

  Tim heard it too. He was working security duty for the concert and he’d come up behind her and when she admitted not stopping the porn site, he stopped and stared at me over her shoulder, just shaking his head slowly back and forth, then he turned and began walking away.

  “What are you doing here now?”

  “Picking up Mark. We’re going to go confront that sleaze bag, Harry.”

  He came out of the player’s entrance just then and they both hopped in her car.

  “Carole, wait,” I yelled. “You guys shouldn’t go over there. You should leave it to the police.”

  She jammed her car into gear and pealed out. I turned around and hollered for Tim.

  “Hurry,” I yelled. “We’ve got to follow them. They’re going over to Harry’s. Tessa’s there too.”

  We took my car, with Tim driving. He broke all of the speed limit laws and ran three yellow lights in his attempt to keep them from getting too far ahead of us.

  He slid to a stop in front of Harry’s house and I hustled up the driveway while he called for backup. The two of them were already through the front door by then.

  I ran, probably as fast as I’d ever gone in my life. When I burst through the door, Harry had Tessa’s right arm twisted behind her back with one of his hands and was yanking her head down by her hair with the other. His face was twisted with rage and he was calling her names that were so incredibly disgusting I wanted to plug up my ears. I screamed for him to stop and rushed toward them.

  He let go, shoving her to the floor as he did so, and whirled on me, on all of us. “Get the hell out of here. This is not your business! She’s trying to ruin my life; ruin what’s left of it. I didn’t do it.”

  He lunged toward her again and, just as he did, acting on sheer instinct, I kicked out as hard as I could. It caught him hard on the shin. He yelped and cursed me, but the pain hadn’t hurt him much, probably because I was wearing gym shoes. Tessa cowered on the floor next to the living room chair, surrounded by a pile of magazines, wailing and hugging herself.

  “It was you,” I said. “You were the one that hit her. The one that killed her. How could I have been so stupid? So blind?”

  He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me hard, flopping me around. “No! I didn’t kill her. I swear, I didn’t.”

  I fought back, scratching,
kicking, biting at him. He let me go suddenly and backed up. Tim was in the doorway, his service revolver out and pointed steadily at Harry.

  “On the floor. Now. Spread eagle. Now!”

  Just as he said that, Mark, grabbed Harry’s arm. “Wait. I’ve got something for you.”

  He cocked his arm and punched Harry twice in the face. The first punch landed upside Harry’s nose and lip and blood poured out. The second one connected with Harry’s left eye. Then, Mark shoved him down.

  “Now, spread it, you sleaze wad.” He kicked Harry in the head. “And to think, I thought you were my friend.”

  I looked over at Tim. “Are you going to arrest him for assault or will this go under some sort of self defense?”

  Tim gave me his “Mr. Innocent” look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marty. The only thing I saw was a guy hitting a girl and that girl defending herself.” He poked Harry with his toe, then pulled out his handcuffs. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Evans?”

  Harry was wailing, yelling that he didn’t kill anyone, that Tessa was spreading lies and trying to ruin him. “She’s trying to set me up.”

  Mark had his arms around Tessa holding her and soothing her. She looked like someone who’d just won the lottery. No, like someone who’d just gotten away with murder. Suddenly, I saw the missing media guide poking out of Tessa’s purse, which was on the floor beside them, and it all started clicking into place.

  “Wait,” I said. “He didn’t do it. Well, not all of it. I’m sure he hit Sabrina, but he didn’t kill her or any of the other stuff.”

  I pointed to Tessa. “She did it. She killed Sabrina. She hit me with a bat. She tried to drown me. She drugged Ed and shot at me. All so she could have Mark.”

  “No!” she screamed. She was out of her mind with rage and whatever she’d taken. “You bitch! How dare you. You’re like the rest of them, thinking you’re better than me. Trying to take away what I’ve worked so freakin’ hard to get. I’m not letting you win. Not this time”

 

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