by Patrice Lyle
"Why's that?"
"Because it makes me look guilty. If she was blackmailing me, that is."
Yep. Bridget wasn't lying about that.
"Of course, dear sweet Bridget is forgetting about two rather important items." Dinah swung her legs off the fainting chair, her bare feet hitting the floor. "I'm worth millions so a quick mil to me is nothing." She paused and looked like she was deciding what to say next. "I'm only going to tell you this because it was your event where Dr. J died, so I imagine you're going to tell the police everything to clear Sparkle O's name. Listen up."
I glanced at Tattoo Tex who was sitting stick-straight on the couch.
"I already paid that witch her million dollars," Dinah said. "And I have the wire transfer to prove it."
There went her motive. She'd already shelled out the money. So why kill Dr. J now? Then I remembered her words.
"Ma'am, you said Bridget was forgetting two points?"
Aw. I was going to say the same thing. Tattoo Tex and I were two chocolate-covered peas in a love-pod. A pair of PI yin and yang.
Dinah rose to her feet and gestured us out. "It sounds like Bridget failed to mention that Dr. J was blackmailing her as well."
I made a face. "For the weight loss surgery?"
"Of course. But Bridget makes more than me, so Dr. J charged her more for silence."
"How much more do you reckon?"
"Bridget owed Dr. J five million dollars."
* * *
My head was spinning on the way back to our room. "Convenient of the little tart to leave out her own blackmail."
Tattoo Tex laughed. "I've never heard you call anyone a tart before."
I hoped it didn't make me look jealous. "Sorry, it slipped out."
He scrunched his face. "Now that you mention it, Bridget thar does look like a tart."
I fell a tiny bit more in love with him, and here I thought I was maxed out.
"I reckon I'll sleep on the couch in your room tonight. Don't want to leave you, Aunt Alfa, and Brownie alone with a possible murderer on the loose. I'll drop you off first, and then I'll go get my stuff."
Aw. I tightened my arm around his waist. Even though the Florida trip had been crazy, finding him had made it all worthwhile.
Once we arrived at our room, I double-checked the doorknob for a curler. "All clear." I pushed the door open, and Tex kissed me before retreating to his room.
"That you, Pipe?" Aunt Alfa asked.
I strode inside and was relieved to see Aunt Alfa wearing her leopard-print jammies and red foam rollers. No negligee or boa in sight. She was tucked in her bed with Brownie beside her. He loved sleeping under the covers.
"Does Brownie want his Batman cushion for a pillow?" I didn't want his little neck to get sore on a people-pillow.
"Naw, he seems to like this down pillow."
Wwwweeee!
I guess so. "Tex's going to sleep on the couch. He ran to get his stuff."
"Good. He can whack any intruder with my wheatgrass juicer."
I considered ruining her new wheatgrass friendship, but decided to tell her later. I changed into my Hello Kitty nightgown and washed my face. Just when I finished brushing my teeth, Tex knocked. I let him inside, and he made a beeline for the couch with a pillow and something else tucked under his arm. I recognized it instantly.
The 600-count down comforter.
I bit my lip and cursed the universe for sending a killer to the Annabelle Island Inn.
CHAPTER TEN
Does the Dollar Store Sell Outfrizz?
"First thing on my list is to find some Outfrizz." I peered at my reflection in the mirror above the couch the next morning. Ugh. My hair was hideous due to my empty bottle of Outfrizz, and my eyes weren't as bright as usual.
I guess that's what happens when you're 600-count-comforter deprived.
"You don't like the Frizz Out?" Tex looked tired too. Perhaps he suffered from my same affliction.
"Aw, try it, Pipe." Aunt Alfa shifted into another Tae Kwon Do pose. She was on her second round already, and it wasn't even eight o'clock.
Apparently, she was affliction-free.
"I tried the Frizz Out, and it didn't work." Wasn't the imitation stuff an obvious failure given my appearance? I looked like a blonde version of the scientist from Back to the Future.
Aunt Alfa paused on a Tae Kwon Do pose and squinted at me. "As long as I squint, you look fine."
"Gee, thanks, Aunt Alfa."
"I reckon you need more of the Frizz Out."
As much as I loved Tex, there was no way I was putting more of that cheap slime in my already messed up hair. Plus I was tired, deprived, and probably would be depraved soon given the state of my appearance. Thank goodness there wasn't a Carat Cream demo today.
"You gonna wear the bling dung kickers today?" Aunt Alfa never forgot anything.
"Sure am. Why do you think I wore my bling jeans today?" I opened the box and slipped the boots on. The overhead light hit the jewels, making my lower limbs glitter like a disco ball.
Okay, that was cool.
"And I'm wearing something else." I opened my suitcase and prepared to make Tex's day. I pulled out the pink cowboy hat he'd given me and set it on my head.
I'd never in a gazillion years admit that I was wearing it to one-up Bridget and because my hair without Outfrizz made me look like a lighting strike victim. Twice over.
"That looks good on you, Doc."
His smile of approval made me happy. Of course, as soon as I obtained a bottle of Outfrizz, the cowboy hat would go.
But that would be later.
"You want anything from town, Aunt Alfa?" Besides something I'd never find in this island town like cashew milk.
"Sure, I could use some cashew milk."
Figured.
"You kids have fun shopping. I've got a few calls to make."
I stared at her reflection in the mirror. When I got back, I was barging into our room regardless of any curler dangling from the doorknob.
No more secrets.
But for now, it was business as usual. It was always better to surprise the target of any investigation.
Aunt Alfa kissed me good-bye, and I kissed Brownie good-bye. Soon Tex and I were nestled inside his rental car. A red Escalade with enough room to fit that California King bed.
And something else that filled the backseat.
I grinned. "How'd you get the comforter in here?"
Tattoo Tex returned my grin. "I slipped out early before you and Aunt Alfa got up. But I think you're missing the most important question, Doc."
"What's that?"
"More important than how I got that thar comforter in here is why I got that thar comforter in here."
I gulped as my temperate rose a gazillion degrees. With a possible killer on the loose, me sleeping in Tex's room was out along with any extended rendezvous, which meant the rental car was an option. But these darn jeans. How would I get them off and back on inside an SUV? I hadn't planned on any car activities.
Holy chocolate babka!
But where there was a 600-count comforter and a man more delish than dark-chocolate-covered caramel, there was a way.
I'd sure as heck make one.
Tattoo Tex turned on the radio, and smooth jazz filled the car. I stared at his profile, and my heart raced. He was so The One. I was sure of it.
Then I caught a glance of my hair in the window, and all my frisky car plans came to a halt. My locks looked like a Brillo Pad had been wedged underneath my cowboy hat. If there were any car activities that necessitated the removal of my jeans then it stood to reason I'd have to remove my hat too.
And reveal my hideous hair! Plus now I'd have hat head in addition to frizz head.
I let out a silent scream as I reached for my phone and did the only reasonable thing a girl could do. Yelp a salon pronto!
"Let's try Hair by the Sea salon." I held up my phone to show him the tiny map. "See? Corner of Main and Sea View."
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"You want to do that first? Before the comforter?"
Um, heck yeah! And with any luck the salon would have a sink and a diffuser I could use. I was willing to shell out any amount of money to style my own hair. No appointment needed for that.
But to Tex I said, "I figured if we got this out of the way first then we could have more time to, you know…"
"I like the way you think, Doc. This town's tiny, so I'll find Hair by the Sea." He took a right onto Main, and we cruised down the two-lane street.
Annabelle Island's downtown was a mecca of cute stores filled with expensive, albeit high-quality, gifts. You could tell by the exterior of the storefronts. No signs for discount salt water taffy or three-for-ten-bucks T-shirts—like we had in my hometown of Sea Spray, Maryland—existed here. Flower boxes hung beneath the windows and well-crafted signs for Local Artisan Jewelry and Handmade Alpaca creations advertised the wares.
Finally we pulled up in front of Hair by the Sea. Yes! Its quaint sign was fashioned on a seashell-shaped piece of painted metal that had probably taken an artist several days to create. The salon offered valet parking—we wouldn't need that—and champagne—I might need that—to its patrons. A very upscale salon.
"There's the salon thar." Tattoo Tex put the car in park and leaned his seat back. "I'll take a nap while you run in."
Then it hit me.
Upscale—aka snooty—salons didn't usually welcome girls in cowboy hats and boots with a Medusa Mop with open arms. Uh-oh. What should I do?
First things first. I reached into my purse and scarfed a couple of dark-chocolate-covered cashews while I considered my options. A) I could take the hat off and risk hurting Tex's feelings and embarrassing myself with public exposure to my frizzed-out hat head. Or B) wear the hat inside and let my wallet compensate for the snooty salon's perception of me.
A second passed, along with a few more dark-chocolate-covered cashews. Then I made my decision. I'd let my plastic talk.
I flung my door open. "Okay, I won't be too long."
"No problem." He leaned back and set his hat over his eyes. "Have fun. Love you, Doc."
Aw. "Love you too."
I hopped out and shut the door. Hopefully Operation Beachy Waves would go well. I strode inside Hair by the Sea, and bells jingled on the door behind me.
A woman in her early twenties sat behind a glass desk. Her ebony hair was pulled up into a bun. Her eyes widened as she took in my cowboy hat. "Do you have an appointment?"
I flashed her a confident smile. "No, I just need a quick shampoo, which I can do myself, and then I'd love to use a diffuser. Oh, and do you sell Outfrizz?"
Please, please, please say yes to all of the above!
A smirk spread across the girl's face. "First, we don't allow clients to do their own hair. And second, we only sell Premium Hair Design products. This is a high-end salon, not some dude-ranch roundup."
My jaw dropped. Yes, I was technically wearing a roundup get-up but how rude. I was not giving this salon my business. But I did have one more question.
"Do you know where I could buy some Outfrizz?"
She shook her head. "Unfortunately for you, Annabelle Island doesn't have any dollar stores."
I lifted my chin. "Dollar stores don't sell Outfrizz." Did they? I mean, it would be cool if they did. I could probably get an entire case for the price of one bottle.
The girl's attitude didn't deserve an official farewell, so I spun on my bling dung kickers and stalked out of the store. Once outside, I scanned the street for any potential stores that might sell Outfrizz. Nothing looked promising. I might have to call Outfrizz's headquarters and beg them to overnight me a bottle.
I was deep in panic mode when I headed for the Escalade. My bling boots caught my eye, which caused me to look at my feet instead of where I was going.
And I accidentally ran into someone.
"So sorry." I looked up at a tan guy with dark hair, a couple of earrings, and a blue T-shirt adorned with the words Surfer Gymnast.
"No worries, my friend," he said. "We're just chillin' today."
I looked at the Surfer Gymnast's companion and noticed a familiar face. "Dr. Sylvia?" Then I looked at the guy again. Huh. Didn't gymnasts do cartwheels? What if he was the same surfer from yesterday?
Dr. Sylvia's jaw tightened for a second, but she forced a half-smile. "Hi, Dr. Piper. I see you're exploring the lovely town of Annabelle Island."
"I see you're exploring it too." Possibly with someone you connived with to orchestrate a deadly diversion.
"We should be going," Dr. Sylvia said as she hurried her friend along. "Places to go, and people to see."
The Surfer Gymnast shot me a smile and lifted his palms as if to say, Sorry, dude. Gotta go. As I watched them walk away, a thought hit me. As mortifying as Aunt Alfa's exuberance over the naked-surfer incident had been, it had resulted in one very useful piece of evidence.
The video Aunt Alfa had made.
I suddenly couldn't wait to watch it to see if Dr. Sylvia's friend was the star.
* * *
Two hours later, panic had set in that no amount of dark-chocolate-covered nuts could placate. Apparently no one on Annabelle Island sold Outfrizz.
Holy chocolate babka to the absolute nth degree!
"Pull over right there," I shrieked to poor Tattoo Tex, who looked more frazzled than me. After what felt like a gazillion stops that had all resulted in no Outfrizz purchase, the man was rivaling Gandhi in his peaceful, non-violent reaction.
The same could not be said about me.
I was seriously going to hurt the next person who told me they didn't carry my prized hair product.
"Pray this place sells it." I threw open the car door and bolted for a pharmacy located in a dumpy strip mall. My hair's future didn't look promising when I ran inside and didn't pass one sale ad on the window for hair products.
I hustled toward the first sales-person I spotted. A sweet-looking grandmotherly lady with reading glasses around her neck was unpacking a large brown box in the middle of the feminine products aisle. I really hoped she had good news because pummeling a senior citizen was just plain wrong.
"Excuse me," I said. "Do you sell Outfrizz?"
She slowly set down her box cutter and rose, her face scrunched. "What was that again, dear?"
Patience. I took in a deep breath. Perhaps she was unfamiliar with the product. "Do you sell a hair smoothing product called Outfrizz?"
Her face lit up brighter than the fluorescent lights above us. "Why, yes, we do, dear. Follow me."
Yes! Prayers answered!
My panic subsided like a receding tide as I walked behind her toward the hair products aisle. She picked up some impressive speed as she rounded the corner.
"It's in the clearance section," she said.
Even better. I'll clean out the store.
"Here you go, dear." She pointed at a mangled box on a crooked table filled with hair styling products. The sign on box read, 99 cents a bottle.
Major score! Everything happens for a reason!
My optimism fizzled out, however, when I focused my gaze on the bottles inside the box. I'd just encountered a stash of Frizz Out. The same stuff that Tattoo Tex had bought me.
Oh, for the love of dark chocolate ganache!
I politely thanked the lady and vacated the store without incident. I climbed into the Escalade and slammed the door shut.
Tattoo Tex didn't turn his head as he fired up the car. "I reckon that place thar was a bust?"
"This whole darn trip was a bust. No Carat Cream sales or endorsements. No right foot cute pink sandal. No Outfrizz. And no romp in the 600-count-comforter." I sunk into the passenger's seat and pulled my arms across my chest. "Oh, yeah. And a murder to boot."
Life was being very mean today.
"Don't go crossing the comforter off your list, Doc. I found us a secluded park."
I gazed at him. Could I really take my hat off and let him see my Medusa lo
cks in broad daylight, up close and personal?
My heart skipped a beat. If he's The One, I don't see why not.
"Take me to the park, Tex."
He peeled out into traffic, nearly side-swiping a green minivan with a taped-up window. "I thought you'd never ask."
I laughed. "Thanks for being such a great boyfriend. I know these past two hours haven't been the most pleasant."
He forced a grin. "Aw, they've been great."
I socked him in the arm. "Yeah, right. But we did get the clue about Dr. Sylvia and the surfer dude. We'll watch the video to see if it's the same guy."
"After we visit the park." He glanced at his GPS on his phone. "Looks like we're almost thar. Annabelle Point is straight ahead."
A stab of excitement hit me. Our last evening under the 600-count comforter had been a night to remember. I had no doubt this time would be the same.
Tattoo Tex groaned as he stared straight ahead. "No way. What's going on now?"
I turned my gaze forward and saw the sign for Annabelle Point. Along with a metal gate stretched across the access road that had a Closed for Construction sign stuck to it.
Tattoo Tex stopped the Escalade at the gate's edge. He rolled down his window and peered out. "No way in." Then he looked at me. "Do you have any chocolate clusters thar? I'm going to need about three dozen."
"You and me both." I dug into my purse and pulled out several pieces of solace. I handed him some and scarfed a few myself.
Tattoo Tex backed the Escalade up, away from our afternoon of fun. We rode in silence to the hotel. What a disaster today had been so far. Tattoo Tex parked and took my hand as we strolled inside. I was spent. Completely emotionally drained, and it wasn't even noon.
How was I going to run a PI operation when I was exhausted and frustrated with a head of hideous hair?
"I say we watch Aunt Alfa's video first." Tattoo Tex pulled opened the hotel door for me. "Then we could hopefully locate the surfer, if it's the same one, and ask him about Sylvia. Seems awfully coincidental that she was with him today."
"I agree. It's a good lead." At least we got something out of the last few hours. I noticed a small crowd gathered in the lobby, along with the detective and the Hardy Boys.