Finn and I were back in the grandstands and ready to watch the show right when it started. Mrs. J. was cracking eggs, whisking batter, and adding a dash of this and that to her mixing bowls, all the while sporting a beaming smile as if she were on her own cooking show, laughing with the audience and telling stories about this or that. The other two contestants were all business. Wendy Swiss was making a caramel cake, and she looked like a total wreck. Even sitting three rows back, I could see her hands shaking. She was no competition. The other contestant, Mary Dubbs, was making miniature lemon soufflés. Although, I wasn’t sure if she was making dessert or running a special op. She had everything from measuring spoons and candy thermometers to a citrus peeler and lemon zester strapped to the utility belt of her cargo pants. She even wore black army boots that looked like she was used to stomping out the competition. Now, she might be a threat.
Mrs. J. hummed as she worked until WA-WOOM! A small fire ball shot up from Wendy’s stovetop. We all jumped back. I instinctively covered my eyebrows. It wouldn’t have been the first time they were singed off. I liked to think I was a master at penciling in brows, but thankfully they were safe. We all stared as caramelized liquid bubbled and oozed over the pan and spilled across the cooktop. Wendy stood dumbfounded with a bottle of rum in her hand. Mrs. J. ran over and turned off the gas and pulled the pot from the flame. Military Mary didn’t even look over. She was too busy zesting a lemon to death. Wendy burst into tears and ran off the stage, leaving Mrs. J. standing there with a literal hot mess on her hands. Mr. Humphrey arrived a moment later with a fire extinguisher and a roll of paper towels. With the chaos under control, Mrs. J. went back to her station and began whipping up her signature chocolate sauce. She was hilarious, trying to hide exactly what was in it, but I saw that she added a lot of butter and chocolate, and the last ingredient was some type of syrup. It looked like honey. I would’ve never thought to add that to a chocolate sauce. I’d have loved to ask Mrs. J. about it, but I knew she wouldn’t elaborate. Regardless, I would’ve enjoyed licking that spoon.
When all was said and done, Mrs. J. had turned out a sensational cake. My mouth watered as I knew it tasted just as good. With two minutes to spare, she plated the judges’ pieces, gave them one last drizzle of her special chocolate sauce, and turned them in. Military Mary had finished ten minutes earlier and was doing calisthenics on the sidelines. Wendy Swiss sat in the bleachers, still crying over her disastrous performance.
The judges sat at the front of the stage, analyzing the desserts from every angle, and deliberating in dramatic fashion while the audience waited with bated breath. A couple of middle-school band students were brought on stage to provide entertainment and ease the tension while we waited. Their rendition of God Bless America was about as good as you could imagine, and did little to settle the nerves that were dancing in my stomach. I wondered how Mrs. J. was holding up. I looked around to see for myself, but she was nowhere to be found.
Finally, after way too long and one too many musical versus, Mayor Potts was back front and center with a microphone in hand, ready to announce the winner. Mrs. J. popped back in place from wherever she had been, looking poised and ready to accept her award. I saw she was sporting fresh Passion Pout lipstick, a favorite hue of hers, and her apron had been tossed aside. Her confidence was contagious and I beamed at her in anticipation of her victory. I was just waiting to hear her name so I could rush over and congratulate her.
Finn put his hand on my bouncing knee. “Settle down, cowboy,” he said, and laughed. I swatted his hand away and shushed him. Mayor Potts was getting ready to speak.
“Should we get to it, then?” The mayor gave a bit of a nervous chuckle. “All right then! The winner of this year’s Seaside Days championship bake off is … drum roll please … Mary Dubbs!”
Mic drop. The earth quaked in response, and I shivered.
Mary sprung onto stage like it had been a planned part of her workout. She pumped her fists in the air and bounced around the stage as if she had just knocked Mrs. J. out. The enthusiasm was all her own. A few people politely clapped, but anyone who knew Mrs. J. kept silent. I looked for Mrs. J. to see how she was handling the news, and did a double take. She was already rushing the stage. Sweet sugar! I leapt into action, but Mrs. J. was already having it out with Paulette before I could reach her.
“You rotten woman! That title is mine!” she shouted.
Paulette couldn’t even get a word in.
“I hate you. This is just like you. You lie and you cheat, and I’m so sick of it!”
Mayor Potts stared at the ladies, who were having it out on the stage, horrified. I was pretty shocked too, and I knew how vocal Mrs. J. could be.
“You rigged this. So help me, Paulette. This doesn’t end here!” Mrs. J. stormed off before turning and pointing at the mayor. “You too!” she threatened. Mayor Potts looked a little white around the collar. You did not want to be on Mrs. J.’s bad side, especially if you were in politics. If anyone could air someone’s dirty laundry, it was Mrs. J. I didn’t dare go after her. She needed to cool down about a thousand degrees before I’d touch her.
Mayor Potts gave another nervous laugh into the microphone. “Let’s hear it once again for Mary! That was some dessert.” He clapped. Mary clapped. The rest of the crowd was silent. Awkward.
I walked back off the stage and rejoined Finn. He looked at me with a huge grin. “Well, that was fun. Funnel cake?”
“You’re terrible.”
“What?” Finn looked all innocent. “C’mon, admit it. That was awesome. I bet someone posts it online.” I really, really hoped they didn’t, but Finn was probably right. I was sure it would go viral.
2
I should probably have felt like puking after all the junk I ate and carnival rides we rode. Funnel cakes, corn dogs, cotton candy, French fries, and that’s only the stuff I remembered. Finn was a ride warrior. If it spun, swung, or dropped, he was all about it. I’d bet he’d go crazy at a real amusement park. Something to keep in mind. My head was still spinning.
The afternoon had finally ended and now it was time for my favorite part: fireworks. My birthday seemed to always be during Seaside Days. When I was little, I believed my dad when he said the fireworks were just for me. We had swung back by Finn’s apartment for a blanket and a few drinks before heading down to the beach to claim our spot. The fireworks were launched off a barge straight in front of us. We couldn’t have asked for a better view.
With the carnival behind us and the ocean in front, it was super romantic. My stomach churned again, only this time it had nothing to do with the carnival. Maybe we should’ve made this a group thing. Aria and Vince would’ve probably joined us. I could’ve still given her a call. I was a second away from texting Aria and seeing what she was up to, when Finn brought me back to the present. “Here. Happy birthday.” He took a jewelry box out of his cargo shorts pocket.
Oh heck no. There better not be anything of the diamond variety in that little box. We hadn’t been dating for that long. My heart pounded and I thought I’d pass out right then and there.
I must’ve looked terrified because Finn said, “Chill out, it’s nothing like that. I know you.”
I gave the phoniest laugh ever. Good grief, I was pathetic. I fumbled with the box and opened it. Inside was a beautiful silver charm bracelet with three charms: a high heel, a lipstick, and a champagne flute. He did know me, and well. “Finn, seriously, this is awesome. I love it.” I kissed him full on the mouth in a beautiful public display of affection.
Finn rummaged in our little cooler and brought out a mini bottle of champagne. “I forgot the cups.”
“That’s okay.” I was never one to turn down a little bubbly, and I could sure use a drink after my little freak out back there.
He popped the cork and handed me the bottle.
“Cheers, birthday girl. I have a feeling this year’s going to be great.”
“Me too.” This was going to be the year. I ha
d big dreams.
“So, tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Did you want me to see if someone else can take it?”
An offshore fishing trip had just been booked and Finn was set to take them out through the week. He had recently taken over the charter business for Mr. Murphy, and his trips had quickly built a following, thanks to his mad social media skills and his Instagram followers.
“No, it’s cool. Seriously. Besides, you hate weddings as much as I do.” With Finn out of town, there was no pressure for him to be my date. Bonus.
“I didn’t say that. What I said was I didn’t like them. You however, have serious wedding issues.” So very true. This, of course, might have something to do with the fact that my ex-fiancé cheated on me two weeks before our wedding. Not going to lie, I still wasn’t over it. Finn only knew part of the story, which was the way I planned on keeping it.
“Anyway, don’t worry about the wedding. Not only that, but I have a bunch of work stuff going on. I’m sure the week will fly by.”
“Just a girl boss.”
“Building her empire,” I said with a smile.
With a champagne bottle in hand and a gorgeous bracelet on my wrist, I leaned back, oohing and ahhing as the fireworks lit up the night sky. Did I know how to celebrate my birthday, or what? My favorite fireworks were the gold sparkly ones that popped and fizzed like giant Rice Krispies. Finn was all about the weeping willow ones that cascaded down the sky until dipping into the ocean. He pointed them out every single time, as if I could miss seeing them. I laughed at his innocence. The speakers on the grandstand played a mixture of eighties tunes and Americana music in sync with the blasts. It was a display of patriotism at its finest. With every explosion, the sand shook a little bit and the sensation reverberated in my chest. I loved it.
Thirty minutes later, the show was wrapping up. Blast after blast shot off from the barge in front. It almost looked like the platform was on fire with how quickly the shells were being launched. When the celebration ended, the entire beach and grandstands area erupted in cheers. I could already hear people saying how great the show was, comparing it to previous years. So far, everyone thought the town had done a fabulous job. We waited a few minutes while everyone seemed to make a mad dash, gathering their kids and gear, to beat traffic. Thankfully, we wouldn’t be dealing with that mess.
“You about ready to head back?” I asked a few minutes later. I had only brought one of Finn’s sweatshirts to throw over my cutoffs, and the night air had cooled several degrees.
“Yeah, let’s go. I may or may not have a surprise waiting for you.” Finn reached for my hand and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. Surprises weren’t really my thing, but I had a feeling I’d love whatever Finn had in store.
“Beach or boardwalk?” he asked.
“Beach. Less crowded.” Most of the crowd had thinned out except for the few bonfires that had popped up, and the kids who ran around on the beach with sparklers in hand.
I started to ask Finn more about his planned charter. “So, where are you going exactly?”
“Making a run from Savannah to St. Augustine with a couple of island stops along the way. It’s basically the best vacation ever.”
Ha, I doubted that. In my opinion, the best vacation involved the beach, a fruity cocktail, and my bikini. I turned my head and started to tell him so when I tripped over something and went flying face-first in the sand. My hands cushioned the blow, but I still took in a mouthful of grit.
“Hey, you okay?” Finn had dropped the cooler and blanket and rushed to my side.
“What the heck?” I rolled over and Finn gave me a hand up. I whipped the sand off my clothes and face, and tried to spit out the remnants in my mouth as ladylike as possible; but there was no proper way to do this, I discovered. At least I didn’t get any in my eyes.
I looked behind me in the darkness to try and see what I had tripped over. “Sweet sugar!” I jumped back. A human foot was sticking out of the sand. Finn froze next to me and I knew he saw it too.
“Tell me this wasn’t my birthday surprise,” I said.
“Not even close.”
I wish I could say this was the first dead body we’d found together. This time, I let him call the cops.
3
Thanks to the added crowd control, two police officers arrived on the scene in less than five minutes. I pointed to where the body was and gladly stepped aside to let them do their thing. So far, only one foot was visible. I wasn’t about to dig up any more.
Finn, on the other hand, didn’t mind getting a closer look. “I think it’s a woman.” He had bent down to check it out. “Definitely. See? Her toenails are painted.”
If anything could’ve gotten me to check out a dead foot, it would have been nail polish. I wondered if it was a Beauty Secrets color, but even that wasn’t tempting enough. “I don’t care. I’m not getting any closer.” I crossed my arms and turned away, partly in defiance, but mostly because I was officially chilled to my core, and not because of the weather.
I spotted the detective before she even introduced herself. Two words came to mind when I saw her: blond bombshell. Her red lipstick matched the tank top that peeked out from underneath her brown bomber jacket. Her jeans were tight. Her blond hair was long. She looked absolutely nothing like my friend Detective Brandle. Where he was middle-aged and overworked, she was young and ambitious.
The uniformed officers motioned us and I prepared to answer twenty questions. The detective didn’t say anything for minute, instead just looked us up-and-down with her intense, dark eyes. I know I was at a murder scene and all, but I didn’t appreciate being scrutinized. After all, we’re the ones who called the cops.
“Ziva Diaz,” I said, extending my hand, growing more impatient by the minute. “This is my friend, Finn Hudson.” I tried to ignore the look Finn gave me at the “friend” title. Who needed titles anyway? Titles just led to trouble.
“Detective Roxy,” the woman replied with a firm handshake to both of us.
So, Foxy Roxy it was. She was beautiful for sure, but personally I thought she could do without the black eyeliner, given the dark red color she wore on her lips. It was a general beauty rule that you only played up one asset at a time. Dark eyes meant soft lips, and vice versa. You didn’t want your makeup elements competing on your face, and you never wanted your look to cover up your personality.
“Ziva, come with me. Finn, I’ll be with you in a moment,” the detective ordered.
Smart move, separating the two of us before taking our statements, I thought.
“Okay, from the top,” she said, once we were alone.
I kept it brief. The story really wasn’t all that exciting. She only interrupted me once to ask, “Why did you disturb the body again?”
“I didn’t do it on purpose. Didn’t you hear the part about me tripping? In the dark?” Hello? I highly doubted running into a foot counted as disturbing a body, anyway. I might have to retract my “smart” comment. Either that, or she was trying to trip me up in my story. I wasn’t ready to give her credit for that yet.
The sand was still gritty in my mouth, but I didn’t want to spit it out in front of Detective Roxy. My mother did teach me some manners. Fortunately, she didn’t object when Finn walked over and handed me a bottle of water.
“Thanks,” I said to Finn as I took a drink. “I think that’s about it,” I said to Detective Roxy when I finished drinking.
The detective stared us down again. I put my hands on my hips and returned the stare. I had nothing to hide and the sooner she realized that, the sooner Finn and I could leave.
“Give me a few minutes with your friend here, and then you two can go,” she said after a beat.
“Sounds good to me.” I stepped aside and let Finn have his turn. I may have rolled my eyes as soon as I turned away from her. Did I mention I have issues with authority?
While they chatted, I tried to look anywhere but at the medical ex
aminer. The methodical nature of their grim work creeped me out as much as finding a dead body. I could never be that calm while documenting death. The police had set up a barricade to keep the crowd away, and portable fluorescent lighting had been brought onto the beach, illuminating the scene like a baseball field. A man wearing a tan trench coat and matching fedora tried to peer this way and that, over the barricade and around the police. He had a cell phone in hand, and I think he was recording the scene, judging by the way he scanned the crowd with his phone raised up. My first thought was that he was a reporter, but then again, given his ridiculous get up, he might’ve been a Dick Tracy fanatic.
Mayor Potts arrived on the scene shortly thereafter. He paced back and forth from officer to officer, wringing his hands, and nodding his head a lot, mostly to himself. When that didn’t seem to get him anywhere, he walked over to the crowd and did his best to reassure everyone that everything was all right. I even heard him say that it was just an “unfortunate accident.” If he could explain how someone could accidentally be murdered and buried in the sand, I’d love to hear it.
“Ziva! Ziva! Pssst!” Someone hissed my name. I turned around, and I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Mrs. J. standing at the barricade, trying to get my attention. She motioned for me to come over, but I wasn’t sure if I should. I looked over to Finn, who was still deep in conversation with Detective Roxy. I glanced at the medical examiner and shuddered.
“Zee-va!” Mrs. J. used her mom voice. I shrugged my shoulders and ran over to her. She was pleased as pudding when I reached her. “Give me the scoop, honey girl.”
Kiss & Makeup: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 2 Page 2