Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2

by Stephanie Damore

  “Aren’t you going to ask me what else we did today?” I asked.

  “Oh, I already figured you were out snooping around and interviewing murder suspects.” I wasn’t sure if I should’ve been impressed or annoyed. I decided to stick with impressed seeing I was marrying the guy. I couldn’t hold the fact that he knew me so well against him. “The question is, why be secretive with Vince?” Finn asked.

  “I’m leaving that up to Aria. He’d probably fuel up the jet and fly her out of here if he knew what we were up to.”

  “Or discourage her from hanging out with you.”

  “I sincerely hope he wouldn’t do that, but you’re probably right. Maybe tomorrow you and I can head out, and Vince and Aria can spend some time together.”

  “What time are you scheduled to present again?” Finn asked.

  “Bright and early at 8 AM. After that I’m free. I wouldn’t mind getting the chance to talk to Melanie’s mom, Veronica. She basically threatened Zane during her press conference this afternoon. And speaking of Zane, any idea how to talk to him?”

  “No, but spending some one-on-one time with you sounds like a good idea.”

  Since Finn had taken the job down in Tampa and we were doing the long-distance thing, it was understandable that he and I would want to spend some alone time together. I was slowly transitioning my Sugar & Sass store in Port Haven to my manager and psychic friend, Izzy. Meanwhile, securing the storefront in Tampa was taking longer than I had expected. The real estate market was hot. This left me in limbo, wanting to be down with Finn, but realistically it didn’t make sense to make that move yet. Speaking of which, I should check in with Izzy and see how things were going.

  “Oh no, no, no,” Izzy said by way of greeting. Izzy had a way of sensing my energy as soon as our telephone lines connected. She once told me that whenever I found a dead body, it came across to her like a blast of cold air. I was betting that right then, she was feeling arctic.

  “Well, good afternoon to you, too.” Technically, it was evening there. The time change was really messing with me.

  “My teeth are chattering. You found a dead body again, didn’t you? Are you sure you don’t want to try my good luck spell?” A while back I asked Izzy to look into how I could change my karma given my morbid string of bad luck finding dead bodies. Izzy had in fact delivered a positive energy ritual that she said would remove the negative energy from my life and with that, bring me a string of good luck. Seeing things had settled down, I never did partake. Besides, it all sounded like a bunch of hocus-pocus mumbo-jumbo and it really wasn’t my thing. However, given the helicopter crash and finding Melanie May’s body, I was thinking it wasn’t such a crazy concept after all.

  “Can you email it to me again? I’ll take a second look at it.” I know it had something to do with the phases of the moon and all that jazz. I had no idea if the timing was right, but I could give it a go.

  “How bad is it this time?” Izzy asked.

  I knew what she meant. “Fashion designer. Girl boss. Body dumped in the desert.”

  “That’s horrifying.”

  “That it is.” There was no point in asking Izzy to guide me with this case. She strictly dealt with the land of the living. I had already tried that last time. “Anyway, that’s not why I’m calling. How’s business? Did we ever hear back from Senses?” The luxury spa chain had been interested in trying Sugar & Sass’s products in its spas. Since Senses was headquartered in Las Vegas, I was hoping to have a face-to-face meeting with its executives before flying home in a few days.

  “We did. Does Monday morning work for you?”

  “It should. Send me the details and I’ll confirm with them directly,” I said.

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks, girl.”

  “No problem. And Ziva, you might want to cleanse your energy sooner rather than later.”

  “Got it. I’ll add that to the list.” Along with interview a rock star and solve a murder.

  7

  “Do you care if I run back to Melanie’s salon? They’re having a vigil tonight. I’m hoping to talk to a couple more people. Piece more together.”

  It was just after 6:30 PM, and we had a couple of hours before the fight. Finn was taking the nap that I had let him talk me out of, and I couldn’t see letting the opportunity to work the case go to waste. Truthfully, it would’ve been smart to take a nap. Tonight was going to be a late night. The game plan was to watch the fight and then end the night at Wicked Spoon. That last part was my suggestion and condition for watching the UFC Championship. Wicked Spoon’s dessert selection overflowed with scrumptious treats, like enormous chocolate-covered strawberries, Godiva cake pops, and the must-try gelato bar. I heard that sampling the rich, creamy frozen treat would make you think you’ve died and gone to Italy. Even better, they were rumored to offer a mint-chocolate flavor. If I held on to that thought, I could sit through anything.

  “You want me to go with you?” Finn asked, picking his head up off the pillow.

  “No, don’t worry about it. I’ll find out more by myself. I’m just going to take a cab over to the arena after, if that’s cool with you?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine, if you’re sure.”

  “I am. Love you.” I kissed him on his cheek. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

  “Okay. Stay safe.”

  Can I add that this is another reason why I love Finn so much? He doesn’t try to talk me out of things; well, not usually. There’s something extra sexy about a person who accepts you for who you are.

  I took a cab back over to Melanie’s salon. When I pulled up, about twenty or thirty people were already milling around. Flowers and white balloons were being left out front along with words of loss and love written on the sidewalk with chalk. Melanie’s friends and the community felt her loss deeply. It took me a second to regain my focus. I’ve found that when working a case, I have to distance myself from the victim or else my emotions cloud my judgment. Scenes such as this made separating myself that much harder.

  A couple of young girls comforted one another, and I wondered what their relationship was to Melanie. When the first girl walked away, I took it as an opening to approach the other one who was left alone.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. I was just wondering if there’s anything you’d like to say about Melanie?” I was prepared to explain why I was asking, but the girl didn’t need a reason.

  “Melanie was an amazing person. She really was. She took me on as an intern and had been nothing but inspiring. I’m not sure what’s going to happen now.”

  “Intern? Like a design apprenticeship?”

  “I’m not an apprentice yet. This is for school.”

  “Gotcha. Is that something everyone does?”

  “If they can. In general, the more internships you can secure, the better connections you have when you graduate.”

  “That makes sense. I think it’s horrific what happened to Melanie. Working here, does anything jump out at you that you’d want the authorities to know?”

  The young girl looked around, seemingly unsure if she should speak her mind.

  “It’s okay, I promise I won’t tell anyone other than the police. I’m not a reporter or anything. Just a concerned girl boss helping the police generate some leads.”

  “Well, it’s just, Zane couldn’t possibly be involved, right? I mean he’s a famous rock star and he totally loved her.”

  “Why do you think he might be involved?”

  “It was Wednesday. I was working with Melanie in her office when he called. Whatever he said set her off. She said she was tired of caring what other people thought. She was living her life, her way, from here on out, or something like that.”

  “Where does Zane come into play?”

  “It was clear that he didn’t agree with her, which only angered Melanie more.”

  I nodded. “This doesn’t sound like Zane was involved, but that maybe he was trying to warn her about something.
Is that a possibility?”

  “I guess. I really don’t know. Melanie was extremely upset about it. Enough that I ended up leaving her office to give her privacy.”

  “Did you see her after that?”

  “No, in fact that’s the last time I saw her, ever. She was crying and upset, and I didn’t help her. I just walked away. What was I thinking?”

  “That someone needed a moment. You did what anyone would do,” I said. The girl closed her eyes. “Trust me. I would have done the same thing, one hundred percent. There’s no way you could’ve known what was going to happen to her. And for all we know, Zane’s phone call isn’t even related.”

  Okay, it probably was, but I wasn’t going to say that.

  The young girl looked at me and I could see the guilt behind her eyes.

  “You’re not responsible for any of this, but I’ll make sure the person who is sees justice. Promise.”

  The girl nodded and thankfully her friend joined us at that moment. I let her take over comforting her friend while I weaved through the crowd to the salon’s front door.

  Inside even more people had gathered. Gwen and her coworkers had set up a table where guests could pick up a white candle and sign a guest book. The somber mood coupled with the glittering wedding dresses created a stark contrast. The clashing atmosphere was a bit unsettling and truthfully, bizarre. It reminded me of the time that I was at a funeral on a Saturday afternoon. When church got out and the front doors flung open, drivers honked their horns at the crowd of us milling around on the steps, thinking we were wedding guests waiting on the bride and groom. The juxtaposition felt exactly the same.

  I didn’t want to disrespect Melanie, but I also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to do a little bit of snooping around. I suppose I wasn’t really disrespecting her, seeing that I was trying to solve her murder.

  I assumed the police had already searched her office, or maybe permission hadn’t been granted yet and they were still waiting on a warrant. Regardless, Detective Hart made it clear that she wouldn’t be sharing any information with me. I was on my own, and if I was lucky, maybe I’d be the first person through Melanie’s office.

  I waited until the memorial service started. Gwen was reading a beautiful poem about a sailboat disappearing over the horizon when I snuck back into the salon.

  The back hallway was darkened, but I remembered the layout enough from earlier in the day to know exactly where Melanie’s office was. Her door was closed but unlocked. I felt the heaviness of the door from the dress on the back of it when I swung the handle inward, just enough for me to squeeze through. I shut the door softly behind me and locked it.

  Without any windows, the interior of the office was quite dark. I took out my cell phone and tapped on the flashlight app to light my way. Obviously, it would have been way easier to flick on a light. Easier but not smarter. Nothing draws attention like the glow from an office door in a dark hallway.

  The first places I thought to look were her desk and filing cabinet, possibly her laptop if I had the time and it wasn’t password protected. The fact that her computer was still here was a good sign. That meant the police hadn’t confiscated it yet.

  The filing cabinet was filled with normal business papers—purchase orders, fabric catalogs, and employment applications—for the most part. I did find one folder titled “HR,” but if I was looking for any disgruntled employees, I was out of luck. No one had even been written up. I did, however, find an employee phone number record that I snapped a picture of.

  Next, I got to work on Melanie’s desk. She was my kind of girl. Her bottom desk drawer was like a convenience store ... candy bars, little bags of cookies, snack packs, with a wrinkled bag of ramen under it all. I could relate. The rest of her drawers were full of sketch pads, pens, a measuring tape, fabric swatches, color palettes, paint brushes, pretty much everything you’d except from a fashion designer. Nothing to help me solve her murder.

  I turned my attention toward her computer and that’s when I heard it. I wasn’t the only person with the same idea. The door handle jostled and my heart stopped. I darted my head back and forth, looking for a place to hide, and dove under the desk. The person tried the handle again, this time more forcefully, but the door didn’t budge. The woman cursed from the other side of the door. Guess she didn’t have a key. Thank you, Jesus. I could only hope she wouldn’t still be outside when I went to sneak out; that, and she didn’t know where to find a key.

  I stayed hidden for a moment longer and steadied my breathing. Now was not the time to freak out. With my composure regained, I put my hand on the underside of the desk to prevent myself from hitting my head when I stood up. As I did, my thumb made contact with an indent. It was a button. I pushed it and felt the drawer above my head give a pop. The fact that a hidden compartment could be contained within such a modern piece of furniture surprised me. I pulled open the drawer and saw a secret eight- by ten-inch compartment. Inside, it contained a small spiral notebook and a set of index cards.

  I opened the notebook and, using the light from my phone, saw page after page of numbers separated by commas. I studied the numbers, counting the sequences. They were all the same. Nine numbers followed by another five numbers followed by another set of six numbers. I had no idea what I was looking at, but line after line repeated the same pattern. I snapped a few pictures of the pages and closed the notebook, making sure to leave it where I found it.

  The stack of index cards was more straightforward. A sticky note had been placed on top of it, which read These are the last ones. We’re done. Each note card contained a name and phone number followed by two or three dollar signs. I took some pictures of those as well and put the whole stack back, clicking the compartment shut. What did the numbers mean and who were the notecards for? I’d have plenty of time to put the pieces together after I escaped.

  I said a prayer and opened the door. Whoever had been outside it a moment ago was gone. I didn’t waste any time to see if they’d come back.

  I detoured to the bathroom to give myself a moment to collect myself. When I stepped out, I practically walked right into Veronica Mays, Melanie’s mom. The day had taken its toll on her or maybe it was the vigil. Regardless, based upon her looks, the press conference could have been ages ago.

  “I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I’ve heard wonderful things about your daughter,” I said.

  “Thank you. I’m at a loss.”

  “I can only imagine. I know now’s not the time, but I saw your press conference today and I want to help.”

  “How so?” Veronica looked at me skeptically and that was understandable.

  “My friends and I are the ones who found your daughter’s body after our helicopter crashed. I’ve spoken with Detective Hart and offered to lend my services, which she has agreed to.”

  “Services?”

  “People tend to open up to me, and that leads me to get clues that the police would otherwise not obtain. With your permission, I’d like to stop over and chat with you. See if there’s anything else you can tell me might help us catch Melanie’s killer.”

  Veronica’s sunken eyes stared off into the distance. “I suppose it would be all right,” she said after a moment.

  “Do you think tomorrow late morning might work for you?” I asked.

  At that moment, Gwen interrupted us. “I’m sorry, Veronica, I just wanted to catch Ziva here before she took off,” she said.

  “What’s wrong? What can I do for you?” I asked.

  “Oh, nothing like that. I just wanted to say thank you for earlier today when I was a total mess. You and Aria were a blessing.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for that, but I’m glad we were some help.”

  “You were and I hope maybe something I said leads the police in the right direction.”

  “I do, too. That’s actually what I was just talking to Mrs. Mays here about.”

  “She’s legit,” Gwen said and gave me a one-armed hug. “I
better get back. Feel free to give me a call if I can help again.”

  “I will,” I waved bye to Gwen and turned my focus back to Veronica. “Anyway, do you think tomorrow morning would work?”

  “Tomorrow won’t, but I’m free now if you don’t mind talking at my place. I need to let Mitsi out.”

  “Are you sure?” I didn’t want to force my company on someone who clearly needed some rest.

  “If you think you can help, I’d rather talk now.”

  I understood that. I looked at my watch. It was already after 8 PM and I should be heading to meet Finn and the gang, but this was more important. I made an executive decision. “I can do now,” I said.

  “Give me a minute to say some goodbyes and then we can go.”

  “I don’t have a car, so I’ll follow you in a cab,” I said.

  “Nonsense. You can ride with me. I trust Gwen.”

  I nodded my okay, not sure if that was a good idea or not. Veronica might trust Gwen, but did I trust Veronica?

  8

  I texted Finn on the way to Veronica’s house. I would have called him, but seeing Veronica was in the car, that would’ve been a bit awkward.

  Want me to meet you? Finn texted back.

  No. I think I should interview her alone. Given her comments about Zane, I was betting she’d be more talkative one-on-one.

  I thought we were going to spend some time together. Even via text I could tell Finn was annoyed.

  I’ll meet you guys right after. Promise. This shouldn’t take long. I hoped.

  Veronica lived in a lovely single-story home in an upscale neighborhood just far enough away from the Strip to be considered residential. She parked her Lincoln in the garage and we walked through the entrance into the brightly lit kitchen. Mitsi turned out to be one ridiculously hyper, and yappy, Yorkie. The puppy wouldn’t even sit still long enough for me to pet her.