Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2

by Stephanie Damore

  “The girls are having a candlelight vigil tonight at the salon. It’s so hard.” Gwen wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. I dashed off to find a tissue. Luckily, they had boxes of tissues on every end table. I’m thinking a lot of happy tears were spilled around here.

  “Her life seemed so bright. Any idea what happened?” Aria asked.

  Gwen dabbed her eyes and took a steadying breath. “I have no idea who would’ve wanted to hurt her. She was kind to everyone.”

  “When’s the last time you saw her?” I asked.

  “Wednesday night. We went out to celebrate after the award ceremony. I dropped her off at home around 1 AM. I texted around 1:45 AM to tell her I was home. She texted me back Good night with a yellow heart.” Gwen brought out her phone and showed us. Sure enough, Melanie texted her back at 1:42 AM.

  “Did you see anyone suspicious while you were out or hanging around her place?” Aria asked.

  “No, no one stands out. The police asked me the same thing.”

  “What about Zane? Was he in town?” I asked.

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “Who knows with him. I haven’t even talked to him. In fact, when Melanie didn’t show up to work Thursday morning, I figured he had swept her off somewhere. He was always doing that. Missing important events and then popping in and whisking her way somewhere exotic.”

  “He used his money to show his love,” I said.

  “All the time.”

  I thought back to the price of the gown I was wearing. “You haven’t had any crazy, irate customers lately, have you?” With the recent publicity surrounding Melanie and her young artist award, the accolades could have been the catalyst that set an irate customer off. Especially if they felt wronged somehow and were out big bucks as a result.

  “Oh my gosh!” Gwen’s hand shot up to her mouth. “Lucia. I didn’t even think of her. She said Melanie would pay.”

  “Who’s Lucia?” Aria asked.

  “One of our clients. She came in about three months ago to have a dress designed. She spared no expense with her fabric selection and hand-sewn details.” Gwen held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “I spent days on that gown. Add in the number of design revisions and you’re talking a price tag of close to twenty thousand dollars.”

  “Twenty thousand?!” Big Bird’s price tag no longer looked so bad. “I’m guessing she never came to pick up the dress?”

  “No. That’s the thing. She dropped off the face of the Earth. We tried to get a hold of her for weeks. Melanie left messages reminding her that she’d be charged the full price of the dress, but Lucia never called back. Well, that is, not until we charged her credit card.”

  “I bet that didn’t go over well,” Aria said.

  “It didn’t. She came in irate, demanding we refund the charges. Melanie showed her in the contract where it stated that custom-designed dresses were nonrefundable and that payment would be charged in full two weeks after completion.”

  “But she didn’t care,” Aria said.

  “No. She left the dress here and swore that Melanie would pay.”

  “What did Melanie do?” I asked.

  “As far as I know, nothing. The dress is still here.”

  “Can we see it?” I asked. I doubted the dress had any clues on it, but I couldn’t resist seeing what a twenty-thousand-dollar wedding dress looked like.

  Gwen led us to Melanie’s office. I had to turn sideways to squeeze through the door, feeling completely ridiculous. Pretty much the exact opposite way I wanted to feel when wearing my wedding dress. I looked around Melanie’s office and decided that I immediately liked her style. Her office was decorated in shades of soft blues and yellows, highlighted by a painting that hung behind her desk. The artwork drew me in. Done in impressionist-style, it was a young girl with long, dark hair, spinning in a field of white wild flowers. The sky was blue and the day was sunny.

  “That’s beautiful,” I said, looking at the painting to spot the artist’s name, but it wasn’t signed. Gwen agreed with a nod and turned our attention to the dress.

  “Here it is,” she said.

  I’m not sure what I expected. One would think an expensive gown like that would be hung someplace more secure, maybe in a vault or at least in a closet with a lock, but the heavily beaded gown was hanging in a bag on a hook on the back of Melanie’s office door. Lucia’s phone number and name were stapled to the bag. I eyed Aria, letting her take the lead.

  “Forget the artwork, this dress is absolutely beautiful,” Aria said.

  I reached out and touched the dress through the bag. Soft layers of lace and tulle were embroidered with thin gold thread and embellished with thousands of crystal and beads, creating a vintage-inspired masterpiece.

  “Thank you. I’m pretty proud of it,” Gwen said.

  “This is your work?” I asked.

  “Yes, and like I said, it took days.” I couldn’t imagine the amount of hand-sewing Gwen did. The dress had to be extremely heavy with all the embellishments, but Aria was right. It was absolutely beautiful. I was dying to get out of this joke of a dress and try that one on. Lucia’s dress had thin spaghetti straps with a deep V in the front. I was betting it would hug my curves perfectly. “You mind if I take a picture of it? It is gorgeous.”

  “No, not at all. You can even try it on if you want.” In the back of my mind, I knew that would be a big no-no. Never try on a dress you can’t afford. But that part of my mind wasn’t making decisions that morning. I shimmied my way out of the office and tried not to knock over anything with my double-wide self. I had never been happier to be back in a fitting room in my life. Gwen didn’t think anything of it, taking the plastic bag off Lucia’s dress and setting the slip of paper with her information next to it. Taking off the first wedding dress felt glorious in its own right. I could safely check princess ball gowns off the list. And things with feathers; that was also not my style.

  But this dress?

  The minute she slipped the sheath wedding gown over my head, I felt like old Hollywood royalty. I had been wrong. The dress wasn’t heavy at all.

  “How did you do this?” I asked her.

  “Trade secret,” Gwen winked. “Truthfully, I designed the concept a long time ago. I just needed the right client to come in and Melanie’s name to finally be able to make it.”

  “You two were friends for a long time,” I said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “We were. Since our early design school days. Both of us had big dreams and we promised we’d support whomever made it first. Now let’s go show you off in this dress.”

  I allowed Gwen to parade me out in front of Aria, who was sitting front and center on the white suede couch.

  “What do you think?” I asked. It was a redundant question. Aria had tears in her eyes.

  “Oh no you don’t, girl. You are not allowed to cry. I will turn around and march back into that dressing room if you so much as shed a tear,” I joked with my bestie.

  “That dress is perfect on you. Finn wouldn’t know what to do with himself.”

  I smiled at that. The dress flared out ever so slightly at the bottom. It swished when I moved my hips from side to side.

  “Here, try this on.” Gwen fastened a pearl comb in my hair and secured a simple elbow-length veil to the top of my messy bun. My hair had never looked so glamorous.

  I looked at myself in the mirror. Somehow, I was going to have to explain to Finn that I had found the perfect dress. It was only going to cost us about twenty grand. Maybe Gwen could give me a deal. That is, if Lucia didn’t come back for it. Perhaps Gwen could refund Lucia’s credit card, and I could snag the dress at a deep discount? It was something to think about.

  I had Aria come with me back into the dressing room, under the pretense that I needed her to take a bunch of photos of me in the dress and that the lighting was brighter in there.

  “We’ll just be a minute. Aria can help me out of the gown,” I told Gwen.

  “Here, tak
e a few pics,” I instructed Aria. I happily turned this way and that. I really did want pictures of myself in the dress, but when we were done, I motioned for her to hand me her cell phone and quickly snapped a picture of Lucia’s contact information on her purchase order. Aria looked up at me in surprise and I smiled. I’m sure she didn’t know what to think.

  We met Gwen back on the showroom floor.

  “Thank you so much for letting me try on that dress. I do absolutely love it.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m so happy someone does.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure it’s in my price range, but if you think of severely discounting it, give me a call.” I handed my card over to her. She read my name and smiled. “I love your products.”

  “Oh, why thank you so much.”

  “I’ll definitely give you a call. Who knows, we might end up liquidating the store.” My heart felt heavy for Gwen.

  “Again, we’re both so sorry. Not to go back to Melanie, but if you think of anything else on that front, give me a call. We’re all girl bosses here. I’ll do anything I can to help,” I said.

  Gwen looked uncomfortable. “There is one other person that comes to mind, but I really hate to go there. It’s all just a bunch of gossip.”

  “You’d be surprised how often gossip leads the authorities to justice,” I said. Aria nodded in agreement.

  “It’s this other designer. He’s a bit of a drama queen. He accused Melanie of stealing his sketchbook. Claimed she nabbed it last year and he can prove it based on her latest collection. He created quite a stink when he found out she was being honored.”

  “And who might this other designer be?” Aria asked

  “Paul Frederick.”

  “I don’t think I know him,” I said.

  “I do,” Aria said. “His looks are really eccentric.”

  “Right. They are. He got his start as a costume designer, designing for most of the big ticket shows in town. He’s new to bridal fashion, but he’s carried that look over.”

  “You should really tell all that to the police,” Aria said.

  “You think?” Gwen asked.

  “Definitely. You never know what little clues can crack a case wide open,” I said.

  “Okay, you’re right. I’ll do that.”

  “If you need anything, give us a call. We’ll be in town through Tuesday,” I added.

  “I will. Feel free to come back tonight. The vigil starts at 7 o’clock. I have to leave here and run to get the candles.”

  “Do you need us to get anything?” Aria asked.

  “No, it feels good to be doing something for Melanie. Even if it’s only this.”

  “I understand. Maybe we’ll see you tonight,” I said.

  Aria and I left and watched Gwen lock up after us.

  “Do you really love that dress?” Aria asked me as we headed down the sidewalk.

  “Yes, didn’t you? I wonder if I’ll be able to find another one like it.” I was already picturing the look on Finn’s face when I walked down the aisle in a similar dress.

  “Then let’s buy it.”

  “Ha, I know my business is doing well, but I can’t drop that kind of cash on a dress. It’s just too much.”

  “Then let me buy it for you.” I immediately objected. “No, seriously, consider it my wedding gift to you,” Aria said.

  “A wedding gift is like crystal or china keepsake. Not a five-figure wedding gown.”

  “You absolutely know you’d do the same for me. Here, let me make you a deal. If you find a dress that you love as much as that one, I won’t object and I’ll buy that one instead. But if not, consider Melanie May’s dress yours.

  “You mean Gwen’s dress.”

  “Fine. Call it whoever’s design you want. Deal?”

  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to talk Aria out of this and part of me didn’t want to. “Fine, deal.”

  With that matter settled, Aria and I kept walking.

  “So, what’s our next course of action?” Aria asked.

  “I was thinking about doing a drive-by of Lucia’s house and then going from there. Not sure how we want to handle that though. It’s kind of tricky doing reconnaissance work from a taxicab.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. Let’s rent a car. Something with style.”

  “How about something that blends in,” I countered.

  “Girl, you’re in Vegas. Style is what blends in.”

  4

  The car’s navigation system took us away from the glitz and glamour of the Strip to a neighborhood where the rockscapes were more like over-grown weedscapes, and more windows had metal security bars over them than didn’t. A couple of the houses were abandoned, if the kicked-in doors were any indication, and it looked like others were in the middle of being flipped, given the oversized dumpsters in the driveways and debris piled up at the curb.

  “Lovely.” This wasn’t the type of neighborhood where you’d find a lot of young families playing in their yards or business professionals washing their cars. “Tell me why you insisted on the Mercedes again?”

  Aria looked around nervously, and I knew she was rethinking her rental choice.

  “Unless we have the wrong address, I can’t see how Lucia could have ever afforded that dress,” I said.

  “Unless she was up to some illegal activity,” Aria replied.

  “Like drugs?”

  “Maybe. It’s a possibility.”

  “Let’s do a quick drive-by and see if it looks like anyone is home.” I read off the addresses until we spotted Lucia’s house. The driveway was empty, but the front window drapes were open.

  “Why don’t you turn around and park across the street and I’ll run up and check it out,” I said.

  “Sure, but make it quick. We looked like two lost tourists just begging to get robbed.”

  “Got it. Keep an eye out.”

  “No problem there,” Aria replied. I got out of the car and jogged up the driveway. The front door looked like it used to have a screen door on it, but it had since been ripped off. The metal hinges were all that remained. I knocked on the dented-in metal security door and waited. No answer. Cautiously I peered inside the front window. Thankfully I didn’t see anything but a mess. A laundry basket had been dumped out on the couch, and several pairs of high heels and magazines littered the floor. Beer bottles and crinkled-up chip bags were thrown about, adding to the clutter. But no dead bodies, which has happened before.

  I turned back to Aria and motioned that I was running around back for a minute. I could see Aria’s eyes bug out, but I ignored her, stepping off the front porch and running around the side of the house.

  The backyard was a barren landscape. While her neighbor had maintained his backyard, everything in Lucia’s was dried up and fried by the sun. The scrubby space was depressing and dusty.

  I surveyed the back of the house. Of course, the back windows were just tall enough for my short-statured self to not be able to see inside. Where was a trash can when you needed one? The best I could find was a rusted-out metal planter filled with cigarette butts on the cement slab by the home’s back door. I carried it over to what I assumed was the kitchen window. Flipping it over, I stood on the planter to boost my height and looked in the window.

  Even with the added foot, I could barely see in, but it was enough. Like the living room, the kitchen was a mess. The sink was full of dirty dishes—bowls of half-eaten soggy cereal, plates with dried ketchup, and cups of curdled milk. A jelly jar had been left open on the kitchen counter with a butter knife still stuck in it. I hopped down and moved the planter down a window. This time I looked into a mess of a bedroom. Dresser drawers were left open. A half-packed suitcase filled with clothes and toiletries lay on the bed. Lucia had run out of time. The question was why? Had she murdered Melanie and needed to run? Or was she running for another reason? I wasn’t sure.

  “Might as well go on in. She’s not home.” The old man’s voice came from behind me.
/>   “SUGAR!” I slapped my hand over my heart.

  An elderly man chewing on his tongue spoke to me from his back porch. With his beige pants and white undershirt, he blended right in with the landscape. I was pretty sure I could outrun him if I had to.

  “Any idea where she went?” I asked when I caught my breath.

  “Mexico.”

  “She said that?”

  “Don’t they always run to Mexico?” The old man spit tobacco juice onto the ground.

  “Any idea why?” I said, hiding my disgust.

  “I’m sure you already know.” The man said the words knowingly.

  “Riiiight. Okay, well, I’m just going to skedaddle then. Thanks for the info.”

  “Anytime.”

  And skedaddle I did, making a hasty retreat back to Aria, who had the car idling and ready to roll.

  “What did you find out?” she asked when I jumped in and motioned for her to step on it.

  “She’s headed for Mexico.”

  “You found that out by peeking in her windows?”

  “No, I found out she’s a bit of a slob and she left in a hurry by looking in her windows. The neighbor who busted me told me where she was headed.”

  “Hi Detective Hart, it’s Ziva again. I have a name for you.”

  “That was fast.”

  “I told you I was quick. Her name’s Lucia Ortega. She ordered a twenty-thousand-dollar wedding dress from Melanie and never came in to collect it. It wasn’t until Melanie charged her credit card that the woman reappeared, bringing threats with her. Anyway, I stopped by Lucia’s house, and her neighbor said she hit the road for Mexico.” I didn’t want to go into too many details about the state of Lucia’s house. I’d leave the detective to form her own conclusions once she had a chance to check it out.

  “What’s her name again?”

  “Lucia Ortega. She lives over on Cherry Street. The address is 8102.”

  “Cherry Street is no place for you to be hanging out.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve already left, but I wanted to give you a call right away and let you know.”