Makeovers Can Be Murder

by Kathryn Lilley

  A pause. ″Now, where did you hear that?″ Luke asked me. ″Did Jana or her daughter know about the first wife′s death?″

  ″I don′t think so. I just heard it from a source.″ I didn′t want to say that Fish was my informant.

  I heard Luke snort. ″I know Jana hired Fish to help her with her divorce, Kate. It′s not a big secret. Fish told me about it himself.″

  ″Okay.″ At least he hadn′t heard it from me.

  ″But don′t believe everything you hear,″ Luke said in a reproving tone. ″The police in Omaha looked at Gavin as a suspect, but her death was ultimately ruled not to be suspicious. And we didn′t have to hear that from Fish. We′re the homicide detectives, remember?″

  ″I know. Of course. But did you-″

  ″Don′t worry, Kate. We′re following up on all the angles.″ Luke′s tone was soothing but firm. ″Trust me on this. Would you, please?″

  His real meaning: Butt out.

  I pulled into a parking space in the visitor′′s lot at Mercy Hospital. While I was locking the car, a Corvette with dealer plates pulled into the space next to me. The top was down, which gave me an unobstructed view of the couple inside. The driver had a reddish blow-over and one hand cupped around the breast of his flocculent blond companion. She was ignoring his hand as she reapplied lipstick in the visor mirror.

  Even from several feet away I could smell the man′s musky fragrance. It was so thick you′d think the guy had an electric aroma ball hung around his neck, with his hand plugged into Blondie′s cleavage for power.

  Get a room, why don′t you? my love-bruised brain wanted to scream at the two of them. So surly were my thoughts right then that if I′d had my way, every lovey-dovey couple on earth would get an electric shock when they pressed their lips together.

  When I passed the nurse′s station on the fourth floor of the hospital, the nurse with the Caribbean accent recognized me.

  ″Oh, it′s good that you′re back now,″ she said to me. ″Our girl should be waking up any moment. ″

  Inside Shaina′s room, I sat on the visitor′s chair and waited until her eyelids started to flutter.

  ″Shaina?″ I asked as soon as she came to. ″It′s Kate here. Kate Gallagher.″

  ″Mom′s friend, right?″ she said, blinking. ″I remember you.″

  As I nodded, a nurse entered the room and started checking her vital signs.

  Shaina shifted her gaze to the ceiling and lay quietly against the pillows. Her eyes were wide and tense looking, but they showed none of the hysteria that had been in them earlier in the day. The only emotion I could detect in them now was a weary anguish.

  I touched her hand, and her eyes filled with tears. ″I just can′t believe I′m never going to hear my mother′′s voice again,″ she said. ″It′s not fair, Kate.″

  ″I know,″ I replied. ″It′s not fair at all.″

  I desperately tried to think up some bromide, some reassuring words of comfort to offer to her. But I came up empty. Shaina had captured the stark, bitter truth-death was not fair.

  Death had taken my own mother from me in a maliciously unfair way. It had happened on my thirteenth birthday.

  ″I′m on my way to get your cake, Katie. Back soon.″ Those had been my mother′s final words to me that day. She′d blown an air kiss my way before turning away.

  I don′t even remember seeing her car leave the driveway of our South Boston duplex. I′d been too preoccupied putting the finishing touches on the decorations for my birthday party. I′d been planning the party for months-it was going to be a magic princess party. I′d asked all my girlfriends to dress up as their favorite characters. I was dressed as Xena, warrior princess, in a daring costume that my mother had sewed for me, complete with magic-power cuffs. I even had a plastic sword. I was sure that my costume was going to cause a stir among my friends, all of whom were planning to dress as Disney characters and fairy princesses.

  Much of what happened the rest of that day was blanked out, covered over by a merciful, numbing blanket of severe emotional shock. I vaguely remember that my mother seemed to be taking a long time to pick up the cake. Then strangely, a procession of police cars had arrived-four of them pulled into our driveway, one behind the other. At the time I′d thought that my dad, who was captain of the sixth police district, had invited some of his officers to my birthday party.

  I′d stepped out of the house only to be confronted by a ring of somber, drawn faces. Strangely, they′d all removed their hats. All they would say was that my dad was on his way home.

  ″Of course Dad′s coming home,″ I said, looking around at them with a puzzled smile. ″It′s my birthday. My mom′s bringing the cake.″

  The officers had shuffled their feet and looked down at the ground, saying nothing. Then my aunt Myra had arrived. Her face was crumpled. Behind her was another police car. This one had my father inside it. He was in the backseat, and his face was buried in his hands. It took me a moment to realize that my father was crying. I′d never seen him cry before.

  Then my aunt Myra and my father pulled me into the living room. They gathered around me and wrapped me in their arms. I remember feeling confused and thinking that it felt like we were making a football huddle.

  That′s when they told me that my mother had been killed. I remember that I′d dropped my plastic sword-in that moment, it felt like the world was spinning. And as it spun, someone shoved a real blade through the middle of my heart. This one was made of steel.

  The painful details would come later-my mother had walked in on an armed robbery at the bakery. The young punk had panicked; the gun had gone off; my mother was dead.

  Looking at Shaina now, I knew that at that moment there could be no bromide, no words of comfort. For her the future would bring only a hard, unyielding sorrow.

  Shaina had just suffered a wound that would never fully close. It would be in her heart forever. Perhaps someday her sorrow would be hidden beneath the surface of her everyday existence.

  But it would always be there, as cold and deep as a grave.

  Chapter 16

  Avoid the Winter′s Frost

  If you are worried about aging eyes, steer clear of frosted eye shadows. Even a hint of frost emphasizes the wrinkles and creases above your eyes. A neutral, matte eye shadow is your best beauty choice.

  – From The Little Book of Beauty Secrets by Mimi Morgan

  I shook off the bleak thoughts about the loss of my mother and focused my attention on Shaina. Her face was tiny and pale, a porcelain doll′s head lost in the middle of the hospital bedding. And terribly alone.

  ″Here′s my uncle Belmont′s phone number.″ Shaina wrote a number on a piece of paper I′d handed her. ″The doctor told me that he and my aunt are flying back from the West Coast right now. They should be here in a couple of hours.″

  When I promised to get in touch with them, she peered into my face. ″What have the police told you so far?″

  ″They′ll talk to you when you′re up to it,″ I said.

  I didn′t want to compromise anything the police were doing by saying too much to Shaina yet. Better for Luke to tell her what was going on. Any information she got from me risked influencing what she told the investigators about the attack.

  Closing her eyes, Shaina leaned back against the pillows. ″His face was young,″ she said. ″And… this is going to sound weird, but he looked kind of scared. That doesn′t make sense, does it? I didn′t think he′d shoot her. I never even saw a gun. Why did he do it, Kate? There has to be a reason.″

  ″These animals have their own reasons for killing,″ I said. ″The reasons don′t make sense to us. They′re just thugs.″

  ″I′m an orphan now,″ she said, as if testing out the sound of the unfamiliar word.

  In a whisper she continued, ″Orphan. That word sounds strange, doesn′t it? When you′re an orphan it seems like you should be a kid. Like Little Orphan Annie.″

  ″It′s a horrible th
ing to lose your parents no matter what age you are,″ I replied.

  Shaina was staring past me. Then her neck arched back, and her gaze angled away at a guarded slant.

  I turned around to see what she was looking away from.

  A man charged into the room at a full-bore tilt. ″My dear, how are you feeling?″ he said. ″Oh, my girl, I was thinking of you the entire drive up from Florida.″

  ″Gavin.″ Shaina said the name in a flat-sounding voice. ″Kate, this is my stepfather.″

  With a jolt, I recognized Gavin. He was the man I′d just seen outside in the parking garage. There was no mistaking the Trump-do and gaga-musky men′s fragrance.

  Jana′s widower was Mr. Musk-and-Blow. Who, when last seen by me, had been playing hide-the-hand down the décolleté of the chesty blonde in his Corvette.

  Chapter 17

  Give Your Face an Instant Lift

  To brighten your face, run a light concealer or white eyeliner from the top of your nose to your eyebrow, and along the arch of your brow. You′ll find it gives your look an instant lift.

  – From The Little Book of Beauty Secrets by Mimi Morgan

  Without thinking, I stepped between Gavin and Shaina, blocking her stepfather′′s progress.

  ″What? Who are you?″ Gavin said to me, taking a step back.

  There was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes. Obviously he′d been too wrapped up with Miss Skanky Blonde to notice me standing right next to his Corvette.

  ″I′m not up to seeing anyone right now,″ Shaina said to me.

  Looking directly at her stepfather, she continued, ″Please, Kate-can you make him go away?″

  ″Let′s go outside for a moment,″ I said to Gavin, hustling him out the door.

  Once we were in the hallway, I closed the door to Shaina′s room behind us.

  ″What′s wrong with her?″ Gavin sounded bewildered. ″I drove here all the way from Florida to see her.″

  ″Well, I′m sorry, but she said she′s not up to seeing you right now. And anyway-don′t you have someone waiting for you outside?″

  Gavin shot me a guarded look. ″What do you mean?″ he demanded.

  ″I think you know what I′m talking about.″

  ″It′s not your business,″ he sputtered. ″Like I said before, who the hell are you?″

  ″I′m a friend of Jana′s. Your wife, remember? I saw you in your car out in the parking garage just a little while ago with that blonde. Isn′t it inappropriate for you to bring your girlfriend with you to the hospital, right after your wife is killed?″

  Gavin dug into his pocket and extracted his car keys, as if preparing to make a getaway. But it turned out he was just getting warmed up.

  ″I don′t know what you think you saw,″ he said, his chest puffing up. ″My assistant, Candice, drove up here with me from Miami. She′s doing some work for me this week. That′s all.″

  ″Candice? You mean Candy, don′t you? Admirer of the naked videos you sent her? I have sources who told me all about them, Gavin. Or is it Guido? Didn′t you change your name?″

  ″What the-How dare you?″

  Gavin swayed dangerously close. Even though it was before noon, I could smell whiskey on his breath.

  A doctor passed by and scanned our tense body language with a curious expression.

  As soon as the man was out of earshot, Gavin grabbed hold of my forearm. He wasn′t a huge man, but his grip was painful.

  ″Who the hell do you think you are?″ he said, lowering his voice to a growl. ″You′re interfering with my family′s private business. You better back off, lady. I need to talk to my daughter.″

  ″Shaina′s your stepdaughter, remember? And right now she doesn′t want to talk to you.″

  ″That′s enough. I′m having you thrown out.″

  ″That′d be great. In fact, why don′t you call the police, Gavin? You make out with a girlfriend at the hospital the day your wife is murdered? I′m sure they′ll be interested to hear about that.″

  ″The police will be quite interested, in fact.″

  Luke was standing next to me in the hallway. I hadn′t heard him approach. Neither had Gavin, apparently, from the startled look he gave the detective.

  Next to Luke was a cop I′d never seen before. He must have recently been promoted to detective grade, or else his wife had just given him a makeover; his blazer-and-khakis outfit looked fresh off the rack. Every movement seemed slightly uncomfortable.

  Luke opened his wallet and showed his badge to Gavin.

  ″You′re Gavin Spellmore, husband of Jana Miller?″

  When Gavin nodded, he continued, ″I′m Detective Luke Petronella of Durham Homicide. I′d like you to chat for a few moments with my colleague Detective Stripling.″

  Gavin opened his mouth as if to protest, then closed it again.

  Grabbing me by an elbow, Luke spun me away from Gavin and herded me down the hallway.

  I expected Luke to pump me for information about what I′d learned about the tête-à-tête I′d seen between Gavin and his girlfriend in the Corvette. But Luke surprised me by scowling. At me.

  ″What the hell were you doing just now, Kate?″ he asked. ″You haven′t been talking to my witness Shaina about this case, have you?″

  ″Of course not,″ I said. ″But I just saw her stepfather, Gavin, outside playing a game of booby trap with his girlfriend. That′s why Jana was divorcing him. Doesn′t that make him a likely suspect in her murder?″

  ″Oh, so now you′re a historian for the War of the Roses. Are you planning to go to detective school, too?″

  Before I could reply, he kept on blasting, ″Are you shittin′ me, Kate? If you screw up my case, I will poach both your ass cheeks and serve them up cold on an English muffin for breakfast. With bacon.″

  ″I have no idea what that′s supposed to mean, Luke, but you don′t have to threaten me.″

  ″I wouldn′t have thought of threatening you before now. After witnessing this little hallway performance of yours, I may have to change my mind.″

  He stabbed the air with a commanding finger. ″Remember, Kate,″ he said. ″Your bacon. In the eggs Benedict.″

  I rolled my eyes. Luke loves food metaphors, but he always messes them up.

  I mean, everyone knows that eggs Benedict doesn′t come with bacon.

  Chapter 18

  God′s Gift to Women on the Beach

  If you′re worried about baring your hips and thighs on the beach this summer, I′ve got two words to whisper to you: board shorts.

  All you have to do is pair some board shorts with a maillot top, and you′ve got the ingredients for a swimsuit solution that will overcome-or at least cover up-most figure flaws.

  – From The Little Book of Beauty Secrets by Mimi Morgan

  On the way home from the hospital, I reached Shaina′s uncle Belmont Miller by telephone. The Millers had just landed at RDU Airport from Los Angeles in-must be nice-their private Gulf-stream jet.

  ″I owe you one for keeping that jerk Gavin away from Shaina,″ Belmont said when I told him what had happened at the hospital. ″He′s the last person she should see right now. I wonder why he was so insistent on seeing her.″

  The possible answer made me shudder. What if Shaina was right and Gavin had had Jana killed? What if he′d had her mother murdered for the insurance money? The notion seemed far-fetched, but I wasn′t in the mood to overlook any possibilities.

  As I was mulling that over, Belmont continued, ″We′re going to take Shaina to our cottage in the Bahamas. She can recover there.″

  ″So soon?″

  ″The doctors said she′s okay to travel. I just got off the line with the police. I gather from the detectives that they′ve already gotten all the information they need from her for now. We′ll fly her back in for anything else they need.″

  ″Still, I don′t know if it′s best that she-″

  ″I′ve brought our private physician with us. Don′t worry-Shain
a will get the best of care.″ All at once, Belmont sounded like he was in a hurry to end the conversation.

  I wasn′t too happy about the idea that Shaina was going to be whisked out of the country right after her mother′s death. It was hard to wrap my head around the idea of bopping around the world on a private jet with one′s own doctor. It sounded like the life of royals. Even though I′d always known Jana came from a rich family, I′d never realized how rich.

  Belmont, Luke-everyone, it seemed-were telling me not to worry, that things were under control. They had their suspect and their story lines straight. But I still had a duty to my friend Jana.

  I needed to know why she′d been killed.

  Chapter 19

  Protect Against Sun Damage with Tea Tree Oil Products

  Here′s a hint from my dermatologist: Products with tea tree oil will help protect your skin against most of the sun damage that sneaks past the protection of your sunscreen.

  – From The Little Book of Beauty Secrets by Mimi Morgan

  The clouds cleared away that afternoon just in time for the Newbodies to hold the Memory Ceremony for Jana.

  At four p.m. I was clutching the prickly stem of a red rose in my right hand, a white rose in my left-red to symbolize life, white for death.

  Eight women were clustered around me atop a stone bridge that spanned New Hope Creek in Duke Forest. The rains had transformed the boulder-pocked rivulet into muddy rapids; all around us was the sound of rushing water and the smell of damp earth.

  Frank crouched below us at the shoreline, his camera resting on his shoulder. Bringing a crew along had actually been Evelyn′s idea. I′d resisted at first, not wanting to exploit Jana′s death. But Evelyn had already text-polled the Newbodies, and all eight women had decided unanimously that broadcasting the ceremony would provide a highway to release Jana′s spirit to the cosmos.

  The only member who hadn′t made it to the gathering was Trish Putnam, who was still out of town. I′d left her a message on her cell about Jana, but had missed her return call. I still wanted to find out what had become of Jana′s purse, which she′d left at Trish′s house on the night of the Newbodies meeting. I′d have to follow up about that with her later.