Lipstick and Lies (Murder In Style Book 2)

by Gina LaManna

  “Yeah.” Allie gave it a fond pat on the dash. “That’s what people say about me too. You know how they say dogs look like their owners? I think the same can be said about cars. I painted this one myself.”

  “I would never have guessed,” I said. I glanced in the side view mirror and caught a glimpse of bright purple spray paint. “It’s unique.”

  As Allie drove us toward Blueberry Lake, I sincerely hoped that whatever car I eventually picked up from sketchy-Eddie didn’t look like me. I couldn’t imagine I’d get much of a looker for three hundred bucks.

  “What do you want to do?” Allie asked. “We’ve got a couple hours before we have to report to the Bachelorette Ball, and I’d hate to waste these hairdos sitting at home alone.”

  “I don’t have a particularly hopping social schedule,” I said. “I spend all my time at June’s or my mother’s thrift shop.”

  “Or Matt’s.”

  “I don’t spend that much time at Matt’s.”

  “Enough,” Allie chirped. “Enough to keep Angela feeding the gossip mill, and the rest of us wondering if you’re going to choose the friends-to-lovers adventure over the enemies-to-lovers side of the deal.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, I’m not hungry, and I don’t feel like getting put to work, so both June’s and my mother’s shop are out.”

  “And so is Matt’s,” Allie said matter-of-factly. “Since there was a murder there and all.”

  “And Matt’s,” I agreed. “Which leaves—”

  “Crap.”

  “What?” I looked toward Allie, alarmed. “Is something wrong?”

  “Sort of. I forgot my combat boots.”

  “Why do you need combat boots?”

  “I was gonna say we could do some work on the murder case, but I forgot my crime solving shoes.”

  An idea struck. “What if we swing by and pick up your crime-solving shoes, and then run an errand?”

  “What sort of errand?”

  “The police station,” I said. “Cooper will be busy setting up for the Bachelorette Ball tonight. Someone told me all the firemen and cops are roped into the manual labor portion of the event.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So maybe we can convince whoever’s on backup-backup-backup duty at the station to give us a look at the police report for Shania’s murder,” I said. “And if we’re really lucky, we could maybe get a peek at the evidence locker. In particular, we need to find her phone. See who Shania had been talking to before she died. If there’s one thing for sure, it’s that someone wanted her dead—bad. That was no accident.”

  “And if someone wanted her dead,” Allie said. “There’s a reason for it.”

  “We just need to find it.”

  Allie glanced over at me. “Let’s get my boots.”

  “Cross your fingers whoever’s on backup duty will let us take a peek at the records,” I said. “It will take some major luck to make this happen.”

  Allie glanced over at me, nodded at my head. “Honey, with hair like that, you’re getting all sorts of lucky tonight.”

  AS LUCK-OF-MY-HAIR would have it, there was no backup at the police station. The only person at the precinct was a young college kid who was in charge of answering the phone. According to him, dispatch was handling any urgent calls that came in and directing them straight to Cooper.

  It took a tiny bit of hair flipping, a bit of eyelash fluttering, and a pop of bubblegum to convince the kid that I was one of the lawyers working on Matt’s case. We had the police file before us in an interview room before Allie could tie the shoelaces of her crime-solving combat boots.

  “You’re good at this,” Allie said, pulling a stack of papers before her. “How’d you learn to solve crimes like this?”

  “NCIS,” I said. “That and being around actors. Turns out, if you just pretend to be confident, you can get whatever you want.”

  “Seriously?”

  “You should try it sometime.”

  “Maybe tonight,” Allie said. “I’d really like Harry Hart to bid on me.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “He’s this guy...” Allie said with a gigantic sigh. “He hasn’t noticed me. He’s about five years older than me and major hot stuff. Firefighter. He can rescue my cat any day.”

  I didn’t pause to wonder if Allie meant that as some sort of innuendo because I didn’t really want to know. Instead, I focused on flipping the pages of the police report and scanning through the documents.

  Shania Boot was the same age as me, older by a few months. Brunette, Caucasian, yada yada, I thought to myself as I flipped through more pages. Finally, I got to the interesting stuff.

  She’d been killed on Matt’s back porch by a blunt object. No murder weapon had been found, and neither, apparently, had her cell phone. There had been no signs of physical restraint. No signs of a fight.

  “There are a lot of open questions,” I said to Allie. “We don’t have a phone, a murder weapon. No struggle, no restraint. It’s like she went to Matt’s voluntarily and was surprised.”

  “So was her attacker waiting at Matt’s?” she asked. “Or did she arrive at Matt’s with her attacker? And if so, why would she be going to Matt’s with someone in the first place, especially through the back entrance?”

  “I’ve got no idea,” I said. “But Matt said he hasn’t been in touch with her for a long time, so I can’t imagine why she’d be going to his house.”

  “Did Matt say if he was expecting anyone else?” Allie asked.

  “I didn’t ask, but he would have said something if he’d been expecting a visitor. I mean, I think he would have. It’s important information.”

  “Might not kill you to ask,” Allie said. “Whoops. Bad choice of phrasing.”

  “You know Matt,” I said, turning my attention up to face Allie. “How do you know he didn’t do it?”

  “What do you mean? I guess I don’t.”

  “But you’re trying to help me solve the case.”

  “Yeah. Because I like solving mysteries. Not because I know who did or didn’t do it. That would defeat the purpose of solving mysteries.”

  “You must have some inkling,” I said. “Some feeling—one way or another—of Matt’s guilt or innocence.”

  Allie sat back in her chair. “Why are you asking?”

  “You’ve known him a lot longer than me. I’m just curious what you think.”

  “Sounds like you’re having doubts,” Allie said. “Are you wondering if I think he could have done it?”

  “No,” I said, a little too quickly. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I exhaled loudly. “It’s that this case isn’t making any sense to me. Shania was seeing someone else. From the looks of it, she’d moved on. Matt moved on. There weren’t any hard feelings left between them, but they still didn’t keep in touch. So why was she at his house?”

  “I don’t know,” Allie said doubtfully. “Just because Shania started dating someone else doesn’t mean she moved on. And Matt—I don’t know if he moved on, either. He hasn’t dated a single person since Shania. It’s been over a year now, I think. Isn’t that strange in itself?”

  “Maybe,” I mused.

  “Ask him about it.”

  “He won’t want me prying into his personal life.”

  “You’re trying to help him get free of a murder charge,” Allie said, giving me a knowing stare. “If he’s innocent, he’ll do whatever he can to help you. That includes giving honest answers to your questions.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Even if they weren’t ‘over’ one another,” Allie continued, “it doesn’t mean that Matt killed her.”

  “So, you think he’s innocent?”

  “Why is it such a big deal to you what I think? I’m just following the facts. I’m trying not to think one way or another. If it seems like Matt did it, well, then I’ll wonder if he did it and follow the clues. That’s what all good amateur sleut
hs do. Seriously, Jenna. Read a book sometime. Haven’t you seen the movies?”

  I nodded. “He couldn’t have done it.”

  “Okay.”

  I repeated it, louder, realizing that it was more for myself. The thing was, it just didn’t make sense. What had drawn Shania to Blueberry Lake? And more importantly, to Matt’s house? If she hadn’t been dragged or restrained or otherwise pressured to be there, then one of two things must have transpired.

  Either she was hoping to meet Matt, or there’d been someone else. Since there’d been no car left at the scene, that pointed to Shania having either gotten a ride to Matt’s or hoofed it on foot, and I was willing to bet the former was more likely. So, if there had been someone else, who was with Shania outside of Matt’s house? Her killer, most likely. But had Matt known about it? And if so, why hadn’t he come forward with the truth?

  On impulse, I searched through the reports for the physical description of the crime scene. There was no record of footprints anywhere in the documentation. I thought back to the lovely spring day that’d started out so bright and promising before it’d ended in death.

  There hadn’t been substantial snow on the ground, nor had it rained in recent days. It was entirely possible the police had looked and not found any footprints. Which was unfortunate because a second set of footprints could do a lot in pointing toward Matt’s innocence, especially if said footprints didn’t match his.

  “I don’t know what else we can get out of this,” I said as Allie returned from grabbing us glasses of water. I snapped a few photos of the police report with my phone to peruse more in depth at a later date. “I think the kid at the front desk is starting to wonder when we’ll be done.”

  “I guess we should start getting ready for the ball.” Allie looked at her watch. “My makeup needs some work, and I can’t wait to get into my dress. Do you think Harry Hart will notice me tonight?”

  I had no clue who Harry Hart was, or if he had any particular pull to Allie, but I crossed my fingers for her sake. When I glanced up, I saw a blip of excitement in Allie’s eyes, along with a genuine hope.

  “I’m sure he will,” I said. “The dress we picked out from my mother’s shop brings out your eyes. Harry won’t be able to keep his gaze off you.”

  “Aw, man! My eyes?” Allie frowned. “I thought it made my butt look good. Harry’s not going to be interested in my eyes.”

  I laughed. “That, too. C’mon, let’s get this back and filed before Cooper catches wind of us being here.”

  “Oh, I’m sure he’s already caught wind.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The fact that I just saw his car pulling up when I went to get water.”

  “Why didn’t you warn me?”

  “I figured you could sweet talk your way out of this one.”

  “Let’s not test it.”

  I grabbed the files, shoved them into a somewhat neat stack. Poking my head out of the interview room, I glanced up and down the hallway. No sign of Cooper yet, which was a small miracle.

  “I thought the two of you were really starting to progress,” Allie said. “You know, jumping into that sort of funny, in between stage of enemies to lovers where you get along, but you just don’t want to admit it.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I’m here for complicated,” Allie said. “Complicated intrigues me. Okay, how about I distract Cooper while you sneak out?”

  “Let’s both sneak.”

  “You don’t trust me to keep our secret.”

  “Not really.”

  “Probably a smart idea,” Allie agreed. “I break easily under pressure, and I have a big mouth.”

  We snuck out of the interview room. I waited at the hallway, easing slowly around the corner at the sound of two low, muted voices coming from the lobby. I saw a quite-unhappy looking Cooper leaning on the front desk and grilling the kid watching the phones. The kid had a sheepish look on his face.

  “Talk about breaking easily under pressure,” I said. “The kid couldn’t keep one measly secret.”

  “Did you ask him to keep a secret?” Allie whispered.

  “No.”

  “Well,” she said. “There you have it.”

  “Come on,” I said, grabbing Allie’s arm and dragging her into the nearest women’s restroom as Cooper turned away from the desk. “We’ll wait him out.”

  “Oh, no,” Allie said. “I already told you, I need to do my makeup. I’m going to have no chance to catch Harry’s attention if we camp out in the bathroom all night.”

  I shushed Allie, listening for footsteps. We’d have a narrow window of time between the moment Cooper walked past and the moment he realized we’d already vacated the interview room.

  When I heard the familiar sound of his boots against the linoleum floor, I waited another twenty seconds. Then I pushed the door open, quietly peeped out, and gestured for Allie to follow me down the hall.

  We snuck back into the lobby. The kid at the front desk sat there, staring into the distance, already looking bored once again.

  “Thanks so much,” I said, tossing the files on the counter. “Probably want to get those re-filed.”

  “We’ll—uh—be in touch with our client,” Allie said. “And let you know if we have any more questions.”

  “Hey!” The kid’s eyes widened. “I thought—you weren’t... Wasn’t Cooper coming to find you?”

  “Tell him we’ll see him tonight,” I said. “And tell him thanks for understanding.”

  Allie and I wasted no more time skedaddling from the station and climbing into her interestingly spray-painted vehicle. It wasn’t that her car was hideous, it was just... I couldn’t think of a nicer word for hideous, so I let my thoughts trail off as Allie gunned it in the direction of my house.

  She parked outside, wiped at her forehead. “That was a close one. Good thing I was wearing my handy-dandy crime solving boots. These suckers really help me move.”

  “Good thing,” I said. “Say, how good are they at perusing a crime scene?”

  Allie glanced across my driveway toward Matt’s. “We’re breaking into his house?”

  “No! We’re not breaking in anywhere.”

  “You say that as if we’d never do any such thing. We’ve broken into two places since you’ve been to town.”

  “That’s not entirely true.”

  “The hotel, during your case. The police station, during Matt’s case.”

  “Okay, we were just perusing evidence. Not breaking into places to, I don’t know, steal stuff.”

  “Whatever,” Allie said. “Either way, I’m up for it. What are we looking for?”

  Allie and I climbed out of the car. I led the way over toward Matt’s, feeling an odd sense of deja vu as we walked toward the front of his place. At the last second, I turned on the sidewalk and followed the path along the edge of Matt’s house to the backyard where it emptied into the patio.

  “So, this is where it happened, huh?” Allie shifted from one foot to the next. “I can’t tell whether I should be creeped out or intrigued. Maybe a bit of both.”

  I was definitely more on the creeped-out side than the intrigued, but I’d come here with one purpose. To see the crime scene in daylight.

  “Doesn’t really look like a crime scene,” Allie said. “What are we looking for? Haven’t the police been here?”

  “I wanted to see if we could find any tracks. Footprints. If there were two sets, that would tell us that Shania didn’t come here alone.”

  Allie glanced down at her feet. “I don’t see much of anything.”

  I had to agree with Allie. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but the police and crime scene crew had cleaned up the area so thoroughly there was no sign that anything had ever happened outside of Matt’s place. And if Shania and her possible partner had followed the sidewalk as we had, there wouldn’t have been anything to find in the first place.

  Eventually, I ventured off the paved part
of Matt’s lawn and poked my way around the grass. There were no signs of footprints in his yard, none headed into or out of the woods. There wasn’t any evidence to say that anyone had ever been there in the first place.

  “Does that mean they parked out front?” Allie asked. “Maybe Angela noticed something. She’s always peeping outside.”

  “The one day I took a nap,” I said. “If I’d just thought to look out my window, maybe I could have prevented this from happening.”

  “You couldn’t have stopped any of it. From the sounds of the crime, whoever wanted Shania dead wanted it bad enough to kill her and frame Matt. There’s nothing you could’ve done to change his or her mind.”

  “Maybe. But if I’d just caught a glimpse of the car—there had to have been a car. I’m guessing Shania’s vehicle was found at her house, so who’s car was outside of Matt’s?”

  Allie waved for me. “Let’s ask Angela tonight at the ball.”

  “She’s participating?” I asked, thinking of the neighborhood gossip. She was almost ninety years old. “Is she popular with the bids?”

  Allie laughed. “Angela hasn’t participated since ‘84, but she likes to critique all the dresses the women wear. It’s the source of gossip at June’s for the next four months until the summer festival arrives and gives her new gossip.”

  “I don’t want to know about the summer festival,” I said. “I’ve got enough town spirit for a while.”

  “If you had real spirit,” Allie said, “you’d participate. Speaking of, here comes May. She’ll have brought your dress.”

  “A real, live dress that’s not from my mother’s thrift store?” I looked longingly toward May’s car, then gave another glance at the crime scene. “I suppose we’ve done all we can here.”

  “The case will still be around tomorrow, once I’ve secured my date with Harry.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “We can look for Shania’s phone then, and I’ll get in touch with Chris Tucker. Something’s gotta give.”

  “Right,” Allie said. “And right now, the thing that’s gotta give is you. I hear you’re wicked good with a blush brush. Come, make me pretty, Jenna McGovern. Murder can wait.”