“Jax?” Tessa asked.
“Not me. All I use is tinted lip balm and bronzer,” I said. Izzy gave me a pitying look, thinking, I was certain, that I was seriously flawed if that was all I knew about makeup.
“Do you think Val could help?” Tessa asked me.
“I’ll ask her. I bet she’ll say yes. Any opportunity to do something glamorous and she’s all in.”
“Thanks,” Tessa said, giving me a big hug.
“I’m going to get out of here. Zachary will probably show up soon to continue his investigation today. I don’t want to see him in his stern detective mood. Besides, I have jewelry to find for all these outfits.” I had Tessa hold up each outfit on its hanger while I took pictures with my phone. The images would be helpful references as I went on my quest to find jewelry for the models to wear with the clothing. I left Tessa to wrangle the girls—she was much better at it than I was. I made my way out of the theater. As I crossed Yesler Square, I saw a familiar government-issued black sedan pulling to the curb. I ducked behind the statue of Henry Yesler, but it was too late. Zachary had seen me.
SIX
“There’s no use in trying to hide,” Zachary shouted to me from the open window of his car. “I spotted you from a block away.”
“Fine.” I came out from my hiding place. “I was hoping you weren’t going to see me at the scene of the crime. I want you to know I am not getting involved in any way. I’ve got a job to do. I’m working with Tessa on a fashion show. I’m finding necklaces to go with some of the outfits the models are wearing. That’s all.”
“Glad you’re going to leave it to the professionals this time around.” I had an urge to stick my tongue out at him, but I knew he would think I was being immature. Besides, at that very moment, he cracked a huge smile, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, and I got all mushy inside. Zachary and I had had some challenges in the last year that we’d known each other. I’d gotten involved in a couple of murder investigations, and he hadn’t been pleased with me about that. He really didn’t want me trying to do his job. In the end, I’d helped him solve a few crimes, but he still didn’t like it when I meddled. “So, I take it that means the show must go on?”
“Until we hear otherwise, we’re carrying on with the gala,” I said, pausing for a moment to focus on him. “Do you want to stop over later? I could pick up some Chinese food.”
“I’d love to, but this may take a while. I’ll call you,” Zachary said, rolling up his window and cruising down the street to find a parking spot. I was glad I was only going to work on the auction and fashion show, and didn’t have to worry about Zachary getting angry when I did my own snooping. I was certain that would put stress on our newly-formed relationship. He was, and would always be, the stern detective I met last year. And while I hoped to soften him up, at least when he was alone with me, I knew I could never change his demeanor when he was on the job.
• • •
Back at home, I got organized for my treasure hunt. I needed to find jewelry for ten outfits—two for each of the five girls. I pulled out my phone and looked at the pictures of the clothing. The first outfit was an emerald green tunic with stripes of yellow and red running randomly through the sheer raw silk fabric. It had been paired with skinny black jeans. I rummaged around in my stock of jewelry and found a lovely necklace to go with the outfit: a teardrop-shaped pendant in black with swirls of green and yellow. It coordinated perfectly. I pulled out another necklace, this one featuring lampworked beads in red with black polka dots and black with red polka dots. As I looked at the piece, I realized it was one of my favorites. I decided to keep this one, and took to it my bedroom and put it away. As I continued to look through my inventory, I found a necklace that would be great for one of the teen models—it was a long strand of emerald green beads with silver foil encased with clear glass. I wasn’t sure which outfit this piece would go with, but I was certain it would be spectacular. Two necklaces down and eight to go. This was going to take some time. Fortunately, I had a few days to get it figured out.
Gumdrop leaped onto the worktable and flopped over onto the jewelry I had brought out.
“Sorry, Gummie, this is not the best place for you. You’ll knock these necklaces on the floor, and that would be a disaster.” I picked up my cat and carried him to the kitchen, setting him down on the counter while I got him some food. I knew I shouldn’t put him on the kitchen counter, but I lived alone. I washed my counters often, so it wasn’t too bad, especially with no witnesses other than Gumdrop—and he wasn’t going to tell anyone. “Are you hungry?” I asked my cat.
“Yello?” Gumdrop said, pacing along the edge of the counter.
“Are you asking for catnip?”
“Yello. Yello?” he meowed again.
“Okay, you’ve been pretty good. I guess you can have some.” My cat was a little drug addict. I was the one who got him hooked. He loved the tiny catnip-infused ice cubes I made for him. I pulled a cube out of the pink plastic tray I kept in the freezer and placed it in a bowl on the counter next to him. “Here you go, big boy.”
Gumdrop looked down at the cube and sniffed it. Something was wrong. He wasn’t going crazy. Any other time, he tended to go bonkers when I gave him one of his favorite catnip ice cubes. I picked him up, carried him to the sofa, and examined him. He didn’t look well. I hadn’t noticed before, but his eyes looked watery and he was sniffling a little. Gumdrop was sick.
I called my new vet’s office. Fortunately, his schedule was light for that day. The receptionist told me to bring Gumdrop in right away.
I picked Gummie up, put him in his carrier, and headed out the back door. He got to ride shotgun in the front seat, and soon we were speeding toward the veterinary office of Dr. Buff Brown. He’d replaced my old vet, Dr. Diaz, after he retired.
Dr. Brown’s office was like most veterinary practices, with basic white floors and counters. What made it stand out was its artwork. Instead of the usual puppies and kitties in framed posters on the walls, there were beautiful, artistic photographs of our feline and canine friends, which added an air of sophistication to the clinic.
“Hi, I’m Jax O’Connell and this is Gumdrop,” I told the receptionist as I approached the front desk and set Gummie’s carrier on the floor. “Thanks so much for giving us an appointment on such short notice.”
“Dr. Brown will be right with you,” said the receptionist, a young woman with neon pink hair sticking out in all directions. It looked like she’d woken up, looked in the mirror and been so surprised to discover her hair had turned pink that it stood straight up in shock. The woman picked up Gumdrop’s carrier, handed me a clipboard full of forms, and asked me to fill them out while she escorted me to the exam room.
I pulled Gumdrop out of his carrier and put him on the metal exam table then sat down to fill out the paperwork. Immediately, he jumped into my lap and pressed himself up against me. I gave him long strokes down his back while admiring a lovely framed photo of a dramatically lit dachshund on the wall.
“Oh, Gummie, please be okay,” I said, kissing the top of his furry little head. I dutifully filled out the forms the receptionist had given me while I waited for the vet.
“Dr. Buff Brown, nice to meet you,” the vet said, entering the exam room. Buff was not a traditional kind of handsome. But there was something about this man—call it animal magnetism, although that was an all-too-obvious thing to say about a vet. He was tall and solid, his gray-blue eyes almost too cool to look at directly, a bald head, and full, dark beard. Somehow, that bald head suited him. The beard? It was impressive, if you were into that sort of thing. There was something playful about him, like he’d be ready at the drop of a hat to go out and play fetch, and it wouldn’t only be to please the dog.
I placed my cat back on the exam table, and the vet put out his hand for Gumdrop to sniff. My cat sauntered over and pressed his furry li
ttle head into Dr. Brown’s open hand.
“Now, then, who’s a nice cat?” the vet asked Gumdrop, giving him a little scratch on the chin. Dr. Brown’s obvious love of animals was very appealing. Of course, I was dating Zachary, so the vet wasn’t in the running for me, but I wondered if Val might be interested in him. She usually favored a traditional-type of handsome and would not necessarily like the looks of Buff Brown. But, if she could look beyond his not-quite-GQ exterior, I thought she might be impressed, or at least intrigued.
“And how is Gumdrop doing?” the vet asked. I noticed his Southern drawl and wondered if Val would like his accent. Oh dear, had I become a matchmaker?
“He doesn’t look like he’s feeling well. I’m worried about him.”
“It does look like he’s got some eye discharge here,” the doctor said, looking at Gummie’s face, while deftly taking the cat’s temperature by sticking a digital thermometer in his ear. “And it looks like he has a little bit of a fever. Has he been eating?”
“Not really, but he’s always been a picky eater. I knew something was wrong when he didn’t go crazy with the catnip treat I like to give him. Usually, he goes nuts, but today he just looked at it and said yello.”
“’Yello?’ Is that normal for him?”
“Yes, it is.” Gumdrop flopped down on the table and sneezed. Poor boy.
“And has he been around any other animals that might not be up to date on their vaccines?”
“No. He’s an inside cat, and he doesn’t really like other animals.”
“Hm. I thought perhaps he might have a virus, but he would need to be around other animals to have caught something.”
“He’s sometimes around my neighbor Val’s dog, but he’s had all his shots.”
“We need to do some tests so we can figure out what’s going on with your kitty and get him on the road to recovery.” The vet pinched Gummie’s fur. “It looks like he might be a bit dehydrated. We need to get a blood sample, run some tests, and give him some subcutaneous fluids. It could take a while. Why don’t you leave him here with us. I promise we’ll take good care of him.”
“Okay. Just give me a call when it’s time for me to pick him up.” I gathered up the clipboard and my handbag. “You be nice to the doctor,” I said to my cat. Gummie, still on the exam table, sauntered over to the vet and started purring. My cat didn’t usually like men, so this was a positive sign. When Gummie doesn’t like someone, he’s been known to cause quite a ruckus.
“Well! Aren’t you full of surprises!” Dr. Brown said as he scratched my cat between his ears. “We’ll give you a call toward the end of the day to give you an update. Thanks for bringing him in.” The vet hoisted Gumdrop off the exam table to take him into the back room.
I dropped the clipboard with the completed forms on the receptionist’s desk. The woman with shocking pink hair was on the phone and nodded thanks as I left. Back outside in the daylight, I decided to take a walk and pull myself together. I was upset Gummie was sick and hoped it was nothing serious.
As I walked down Jackson Street toward Second Ave South, I passed Chu’s Antiquities. The owner, Mr. Chu, was my next-door neighbor. I’d always been curious about his shop but had never made the time to come down and explore it. Deciding that today was as good a day as any, I went inside. I did have an ulterior motive. Perhaps he’d want to help our cause by donating a necklace for the fashion show. Mr. Chu liked cats more than people, and had dozens of them—cats, not people—in his house across the alley from mine. Tessa and I had entered his house last month, and we’d been relieved to discover that while he did have an unreasonable number of cats, his home didn’t smell like a litter box, and all his animals seemed to be happy and healthy.
The bell on the door to Mr. Chu’s shop jingled faintly as I entered. His store was dimly lit, and it was hard to move through the crowded and meandering aisles. The distinctive musty smell of antiques was as thick as the dust on the highest shelves. As I walked through the aisles, I was astounded by the amazing collection of items he had in his shop: vintage rattan bird cages, stacks of antique books, china figurines, exotic musical instruments, and so much more. I could have spent the rest of the day browsing the unusual items in his shop. But not today. Today I was on a mission to find at least one more necklace to go with an outfit for the fashion show. I was feeling pretty down in the dumps—more in the mood for a stiff drink than a shopping excursion. I knew Gummie was going to be okay, but I was still worried about him, and worried about the cost of vet bill as well.
I finally located Mr. Chu at a small, crowded desk in the back of the shop, a cloud of pine-scented smoke surrounding him. Usually he wasn’t wearing much more than a robe and boxer shorts, but today—appropriately, since he was in his place of business—he was wearing slate gray dress pants that were a little too baggy and a plain white button-down shirt with a white undershirt peeking out at the neckline. It was the first time I had seen him without a cat in his lap.
He must not have heard me enter, since he didn’t greet me.
“Excuse me, Mr. Chu?” I said.
“You here to buy something?” he said, glancing up at me, then returning his focus to his work. “Because if not, you should stick to bothering me at home, okay?”
“I was here to ask you a favor—”
“This is a place of business, not favors,” he said, turning his attention back to his work. A small puff of smoke swirled away from the soldering iron tip he was holding to a bead on a strand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, peering over his shoulder.
“Nothing important. You’re bothering me. I’m busy.”
“What if the favor you did for me meant you could advertise your shop to a large group of wealthy people attending a charity auction and fashion show?” I asked.
He said nothing, so I took a deep breath and kept going.
“We’re having an auction and the proceeds go to a nonprofit organization that helps the homeless. There’s a fashion show, and I’m in charge of putting together jewelry with the clothing. I know it’s for people and not cats, but I was hoping—”
“I like people just fine, but cats seem to like me better than people do. But, if you think it will mean I get some new customers, I’ll consider it.” Mr. Chu pressed the tip of the hot soldering iron into the hole of another dark yellow bead. The smell of burnt oil wafted by me.
“Aha! This one is fake,” he said, pulling the bead off the strand and setting it in a white ceramic bowl. “These so-called amber beads, I test them to see if they’re real. I give them a little heat right in the hole, and if I smell pine then the bead is real amber.”
“Why do they smell like pine?”
“Don’t you know anything about beads?”
“I know a lot about glass beads, not as much about other kinds,” I admitted. I recalled that Mr. Chu, who usually was an expert at identifying antiques, had sent me on a wild goose chase when he misidentified some beads Tessa and I had shown him last month.
“Amber is fossilized tree sap. If I heat it up, it will smell like a forest in here.” He pressed the soldering iron tip to another bead, and the smoke emitted the sweet scent of a pine tree.
“Another real one,” I said, sniffing the aroma of pine sap.
“Yes, and that’s the last one. Out of this strand, only one is fake. That’s acceptable. Now, what would you want for this auction of yours?”
“Do you have an amber necklace we could use?” I had in mind a flowing lavender gown with pale yellow flowers that would look terrific with a necklace made of amber beads.
“I have just the thing.” Mr. Chu shuffled over to a door and opened it. “You come with me.” He reached inside the door and flipped a switch to illuminate a dark, narrow staircase heading down. This was not my idea of a good time. I hoped Tessa would appreciate the lengths I was willing to go to for the sa
ke of the event.
“What is this place?” I asked, but I knew the answer even before I’d even finished asking the question.
“This is my storage room. Used to be part of the Underground.”
I hesitated. Mr. Chu turned around and looked up at me.
“Come on, come on. There’s no boogeyman down here,” he said, beckoning me with one of his weathered hands. Cautiously, I followed him, keeping my head low so I didn’t end up with a face full of cobwebs.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Mr. Chu fumbled for the light switch. The light came on, illuminating a small, dingy space not much larger than my bedroom. The room was lined with shelves, which were filled with neatly labeled boxes. He might have had a lot of stuff, but at least he was organized.
“Here’s what I was looking for,” Mr. Chu said, pulling a small box from a shelf. He opened the box and pulled out a choker-length necklace of chunky amber orbs with tiny gold beads mixed in between them and an antique clasp in the shape of a lotus flower. “Will this work? They’re not real amber. Otherwise, they’d be worth a fortune. But it’s a nice piece. It should sell for a good price.”
“It’s perfect! Thank you!” I said, reaching over to hug him.
“All right already,” he said, waving me away. I backed off, remembering he simply wasn’t the hugging type.
“The model will wear it in the fashion show, and we’ll tell the audience who donated it. We’re offering the donors half the proceeds of the auction price, plus a ticket to the auction. Okay?” I doubted I could get him to come to the gala, but it was worth a try.
“Let me get this wrapped up for you,” he said, as I followed him back up the stairs, and not a minute too soon. I was starting to sweat down there, and not because I was hot. I couldn’t stand being in that dark place, wondering what kind of creepy-crawlies might be headed up my pant leg. “I’m not so sure about coming to the event, I’ve got a lot to tend to at home.” I was sure what he meant was he had a lot of cats to tend to. But I hoped he’d come, if for no other reason than to get someone else to fill a seat in the large venue. Perhaps he’d even bid on some auction items.
To Bead or Not to Bead, Glass Bead Mystery Series, Book 4 Page 5