What a Nunderful World Page 15

  “Aren’t you always telling me sometimes it’s just that one little clue that can break a case wide open? You know, when a suspect sees something they think is completely innocuous, but it turns out it’s something that can make or break a case?”

  He held his hands up and grinned, his sleeve tattoos on each forearm especially bright in the gloom pouring in from the windows. “Okay, okay. But I can still see you.”

  I sat up then and decided to take matters in hand. I knew Mitzy had been murdered, and I was going to find out who did it. Period.

  “Wait here,” I told him, slipping from my chair and eyeballing the table where Nikki and the others sat, her back to me. As I approached, I smiled over Nikki’s head at their concerned glances when they realized I was heading toward them.

  And that’s when Nikki turned around and saw me.

  She hopped up from her chair as though the devil had invited himself to a sit-down, her finger waving in the air as she grabbed her coat. Her face bright red, her mouth an angry thin line.

  “I know why you’re here, and I’m not going to talk to you, lady! I told the police everything I know. Now leave—me—alone!” she yelled at me, grabbing Sophie by the hand and stomping toward the door.

  There was a long silence before Higgs snuck up behind me and whispered, “I hope this is a lesson to you, Sister Trixie. No good ever comes from a place that gives you kale chips with our lunch.”

  Chapter 16

  I sighed in mortification as everyone stared at me, poking him in the side. “I told you, she’s not a fan.”

  “Obviously.” Grabbing me by the hand, he pulled me back toward the table and threw some money on it to cover lunch. “Listen, I have to get back to the shelter and make a burger…er, do some work. You want to come with or do you want to see how many more people you can scare off from the health food restaurant?”

  I stuck my tongue out at him with a giggle, but my appetite was gone. “Nope. My dance card is full for today. I’m outta here, but I’m going to spend some time with my laptop and see what I can see. I’ll walk back with you, okay?”

  “Then let’s blow this popsicle stand.” He held out his arm to me, and I took it, letting him lead me out of the bustling café.

  As we stepped outside, a voice called out, “Miss Lavender?”

  We both turned to find Mickey, his ruddy-cheeked smile hesitant. I peered at him through the drizzle. “Mickey, right?”

  His shoulders instantly slumped. “Yeah. Look, I’m sorry Nikki acted like that. She’s way overdramatic about everything. But Julie told me she talked to you, and she said you were really nice.”

  I smiled. “Well, thanks for realizing I’m not a monster, Mickey. I really just wanted to talk to you guys about that night, and see if you saw something or heard something one of the others didn’t.”

  His curly brown head, glistening with rain, turned from left to right. “I really didn’t. Julie’s telling you the truth. I didn’t see anyone or hear anything before that door slammed shut and we were locked in.”

  I nodded in understanding. This became more and more like the perfect crime than any crime ever. “Can I ask you something, and I hope you’ll give me an honest answer?”

  Mickey shrugged, tucking his hands into the pockets of his tracksuit. “Sure.”

  “Did you like Mitzy? Or was she as cruel to you as she was to the others?”

  He looked at me for a long moment, his mouth working, but no words came out.

  Then, he suddenly blurted, “She was really awful. I want to be a makeup artist to the stars, and I think I’m pretty good at it. I know I’m pretty good at it. I thought entering the contest was stupid, but I did it anyway, because Mitzy’s skills are mad, and so are her connections. I really thought I’d gain some great experience, maybe meet some new people. But it wasn’t worth the abuse. She was crappy to everyone, including us, and we were doing this for free. I decided after only two days with her, no connection was worth hanging around that toxic dumpster fire, and I wanted to go home.”

  Yet another Mitzy hater. “I’m sorry your experience was so poor, Mickey. She does seem to have a reputation for being unkind.”

  “Unkind?” he snorted. “She’s a…er, was a monster, and I know my mother would be really upset with me for speaking ill of the dead, but it’s true. She had an ugly heart.”

  I looked at Higgs, whose mouth had gone thin in a grimace, but we both knew this was yet another dead end.

  I stuck my hand out and offered it to Mickey. “Well, thank you, Mickey. I’m definitely not a monster, but I appreciate you talking to me.”

  He shook my hand and began to walk away, but then he stopped. “Miss Lavender?”

  “Yes?”

  “There was one thing I do remember, and I told the police about it. They didn’t say I couldn’t say anything, so I guess it can’t hurt to tell you, too.”

  Yep. Right on time. My spidey tingle alert raced along my arms. Forcing myself not to appear too eager, I said, “What’s that, Mickey?”

  “The night before the event, in Mitzy’s hotel room—which was right next door to mine—I heard her arguing with someone.”

  Ding-ding-ding! My grip on Higgs’s hand tightened. “Do you know who it was?”

  Mickey shook his head. “Nope. I was so tired after a long flight and sitting through her rules speech and the NDA signing that I just wanted to go to bed. I was afraid to even leave my room because we weren’t supposed to talk to anyone. But I did hear one thing.”

  I began to salivate. “And that was?”

  “The name Kelly.”

  That was when my mouth went dry.

  “Okay, so this is what we know.”

  Jeff cocked his head as he sat on my lap in my office at the shop, and I scratched his ears. “”Whadda we know, Trixie?” he asked, leaning into me with a moan.

  “No one—and I do mean almost no one—liked Mitzy Cavanaugh.”

  Not a single living soul, it would seem.

  “Yeah,” he moaned. “She was some piece a work. Meaner ’n a one-eyed troll.”

  My head bounced in agreement as I looked at my laptop and prayed Facebook would decide to right itself soon so I could look at Kelly’s profile. Every time I typed in her name, or the name of the high school Mitzy went to, or anything for that matter, the site crashed.

  I’d like to have a word with Mr. Zuckerberg at this point. I really needed to see if I could find something out about Kelly and her family.

  “And we know that she had an argument with some faceless person about Kelly. I’m going to assume it’s the Kelly she allegedly bullied in high school. That information according to Margot, who couldn’t get away from Mitzy fast enough.”

  “Do you really think you can bully somebody into committin’ suicide, Trix? That’s pretty extreme action to take.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “I think you can certainly pile on to someone who’s already feeling pretty low. We don’t always know what’s going on with someone. What their home life is like. What challenges they face. Sometimes it just takes one tiny straw to break the camel’s back. Which is why I preach kindness at all costs—because you don’t know.”

  “Yeah. That’s for sure,” Jeff agreed, settling down in my lap with a yawn.

  Smiling down at him, I stroked his back and said, “Then there’s Sally, who had an entire makeup palette launch go to you-know-where in a handbasket because Mitzy ruined her chances of selling anything with her allegedly fake eye infection. There’s Susie, who’s boyfriend Mitzy all but snatched right out from under her nose, and Ames, who lost a huge deal to her because she swooped in and stole the sponsorship. And finally, we have Alma Zon, who didn’t love how popular Mitzy had become after hosting her on her YT channel.”

  “All very likely suspects. Seems everyone’s a suspect with Mitzy,” Jeff retorted.

  I leaned forward and cupped my chin in my hands, noting Facebook was still down. “Seems you’re right. And you kno
w what that leaves me with, Jeff? Bupkis. Nothing. Zero.”

  “You’ve been here before, Trix. You’ll figure it out.”

  I snorted a laugh. “I never truly figure it out, Jeff. It usually falls in my lap—and almost always when it’s too late. Sure, I get lots of leads and I talk to a lot of people and I talk a good game, but I never go all the way. No homerun, and quite frankly, it’s getting old.”

  Jeff stretched and yawned again. “But I believe in ya anyways, Trix. You’re wicked awesome.”

  I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and touched his cold nose. “I love you, Jeffie. You’re the best shared dog a group of misfits like us could ever have.”

  I gave up on Facebook for the moment and hit Twitter, but it didn’t appear as though Kelly or her mother had a Twitter account.

  I noted Mitzy was trending again, and as I scanned the hashtag #Glitzyditziesforever and #Squeeeallday, I read all the words of condolence, saw all the GIFs of people crying, and scoured them for any underhanded meaning, but I didn’t find any.

  Certainly nothing that said, “Remember high school?”

  While I waited to meet Susie, I rechecked Mitzy’s page on YouTube and looked at all the comments to see if anyone had posted anything untoward, but there was nothing. Nothing but a lot of condolences and disbelief.

  And still Facebook was down. Argh!

  Checking the time on my phone, I decided to head out to meet Susie for coffee a little early. Maybe the walk to the coffee shop beneath her building would help clear my head.

  “Jeff? I have a date with Susie for coffee. I’m afraid we have to part ways, Snuggle Bunny.”

  He sighed sleepily and stood back up. “Just when the nappin’ was good,” he joked, hopping down off my lap and heading toward his bed, hunkering down. “Have a good one.”

  “Higgs’ll be here at four to collect you for dinner. See ya later, buddy,” I said, rubbing the spot under his chin one last time.

  The shop was rather quiet this late in the day, there was no hum of the tattoo guns or the sound of chatter as people excitedly waited to get their tattoos. Waving to Knuckles, who was cleaning his station, I told him I’d catch him later for dinner and headed out.

  It was still raining (surprise—when isn’t it raining in Portland?), so I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head and began the walk to Susie’s. I probably could have taken an Uber, but the exercise would do me good. Especially with the way those jeans had fit me so snuggly the other night.

  I waved to a couple of shop owners on my way, familiar faces I saw often and spent a lot of community time with these days.

  Father Rico was out on the steps of the church, preparing to welcome people to afternoon mass even in the misty rain, and again I felt the sting of not only the recent loss of Sister Ophelia, but the worry about how Father Rico was healing after such a tragic event.

  Yet, he waved to me and called out a cheerful greeting, and I waved back, making my way toward Sienna Street, where Susie lived in a gorgeous high-rise apartment with lots of glass and tinted windows.

  Her building loomed before me, and even in the purple gloom of the day, I admired how trendy and well-kept it was. From the neatly mulched patches in the front with perfectly cropped bushes, to the pavers that surrounded the now barren azaleas, it was really sharp and very trendy. Exactly where I’d expect someone as posh as Susie to live.

  It overlooked the Hawthorne Bridge and the river, and I imagine on sunny days, it was quite spectacular.

  I pulled the door open to the coffee shop, simply called Sienna’s Brew, and wiggled my fingers to Susie, who was already sitting at a table. She looked a little tired and pale, as though her spray tan had begun to wash off. I imagined it was due to the stress of these last days and the toll it was taking on her pregnancy. It was part of the reason I was checking in on her.

  In fact, she almost looked nothing like the Susie-Susie I saw on YouTube. She looked fresh-faced and scrubbed, and if I hadn’t known that was her purse sitting next to her, I might have missed her entirely.

  Man, makeup really was an illusion, and she was definitely a master illusionist.

  I wandered through the small, walnut-stained tables and approached her with a smile. “Hey, Susie! I almost didn’t recognize you without makeup. Not that you’re not just as beautiful, it’s just different.”

  She sipped at something resembling milky tea from a wide white-and-blue-striped cup, using a tissue she pulled from her sweater pocket to wipe her nose. “It’s a great way to keep my anonymity. I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing. Almost no one knows I’m the vivacious Susie-Susie when I go without makeup.”

  Oh, dear. She sounded awful. “Oh, Susie. You’re feeling poorly? You sound stuffy.”

  Sniffling, she said, “I’m definitely not great. I think I have a serious head cold.”

  I leaned the heels of my hands against the table as I slipped into a chair. “Oh no! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling unwell? I’d have brought you some chicken soup from Betty’s. Best soup ever. It has healing properties of which I don’t know the ingredients, but can guarantee.”

  She smiled at me, her nose red. “It’s okay. I should have cancelled, but it feels good to talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk about PR and the angle we’re going to take for Mitzy’s death in my next video.”

  I popped my lips and nodded in sympathy. “You mean your agent and PR manager are pressuring you to make a video?”

  She nodded her blonde head. “They are, and I know this sounds awful, but it’s going to be the best acting job of my life. You know there was no love lost between us, but now they want me to fawn and gush over someone who doesn’t—” She stopped quite suddenly, her eyes full of apology. “Sorry. It feels disingenuous.”

  “Right,” I responded, patting her hand. “So let’s talk about other things. What’s new?”

  “Hey, do you mind if we do this in my apartment? I feel awful, and it might be better if I could snuggle under a blanket and sit on my couch.”

  “Are you sure? We can do this another time when you’re feeling better? I just wanted to touch base, see if there was anything I could do to help.”

  But she wagged a finger at me. “No, no. I’m grateful for the company if you don’t mind risking getting the plague. My job is sort of isolating, and like I said, I’d rather not talk shop.”

  “Okay then. Let me grab some coffee and we’ll head on up.”

  “How about I meet you up there? I really need another dose of cold medicine. I’m the only apartment on the top floor. I’ll text you the access code for the elevator.”

  Wow. So basically, she lived in the penthouse. Makeup had its privileges. “Are you sure you want to give me something so private? I might sneak in and steal all your makeup,” I teased on a giggle. “I’d be Coop’s hero.”

  She grinned at me, her nose painfully red. “Nah. I trust you and I can change it if I ever bust you and Coop, snooping through my blush. It’s easy enough.”

  I smiled. “You got it.” We parted ways, and I went to grab some coffee, looking forward to the late-afternoon boost after my hard night of clubbing and drawing preposterous sketches of who knew what or why.

  I placed my order and waited, wondering if maybe Tansy was right. Maybe there wasn’t enough physical evidence to make this a murder investigation. With the exception of the tiny lead about an argument with Mitzy and the name Kelly, there wasn’t a lot to go on.

  I hated to think this could turn into a cold case, but you’d be surprised how many cold cases there are. The stats would astound you.

  Taking my cinnamon-vanilla latte, I paid with a smile for the cashier, who warned me how hot my cup was. I left the coffee shop to head up to Susie’s, looking forward to seeing her apartment. I’d bet it was beautiful.

  Pressing the button for the elevator in the lobby, I entered the access code and hopped on, pushing the penthouse floor button just as my phone began to beep notifications from the ever-elus
ive Facebook, letting me know it was up and running.

  Finally.

  As I stepped out of the elevator and realized it led directly into Susie’s apartment, I hit enter to take me to one of the several pages listed for a Kelly Leigh before I looked around.

  That was also the exact moment I wondered if Susie had taken her cold medicine. It didn’t seem like a good idea, being pregnant, and maybe I should ask if she’d called a doctor for advice.

  “Susie,” I called out distractedly, thinking to warn her as I tried the third page listed for a Kelly Leigh, due to the fact that it listed the page owner’s home state as Mississippi. I clicked on the link and waited.

  And then Kelly’s page opened.

  And I stopped all movement.

  Oh, boy.

  Chapter 17

  “There you are,” Susie sniffed, wrapped in a warm pink throw, tissues in hand.

  As the elevator door closed behind me, I swallowed hard, trying to manage my phone and my coffee with what felt like two left feet attached to my wrists.

  Alas, I was all of a sudden clumsy. My phone fell to the gorgeous white marble floor of Susie’s apartment, sliding across the slick tile and almost landing at her feet.

  She stooped to retrieve it for me, but I stopped her by yelling, “No!” Then I realized how my voice had echoed with panic and I softened it. “No, don’t bend. It’ll only make your stuffy head feel worse.”

  Sure, my words sounded a little shaky and unsure, but I thought I’d pulled it off.

  I raced to grab my phone from the floor, but Susie was quicker than me. She scooped it up—and then she stopped all motion, too, her brown eyes narrowing.

  Holding it up between her thumb and forefinger, she sighed forlornly, as though I’d deeply disappointed her, before she stomped toward me, stopping on her way to type some numbers into a panel on a whitewashed wood buffet with gleaming silver handles.

  Stuffing my phone in her back pocket, Susie stood in front of the enormous wall of windows in her gorgeously white and soft pink living room, overlooking the river and the Hawthorne Bridge with a maniacal gleam to her eyes.