Beauty Expos Are Murder

by Libby Klein

  The women in white coats floated out of the Rubinesque tent like a bevy of swans. They had surfed in on the wave of ticket holders this morning and had to find out about Dr. Rubin’s death from security. Tally appeared especially distraught as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue and blew her nose. She stepped away from the group and pulled out her cell phone. She headed past our booth toward the exit, and I overheard her say, “We need to enact the Phoenix Protocol. Like yesterday.”

  That was weird. A few minutes later I heard her again, but this time she was crying outside the window behind our booth. I put a cherry muffin in a pastry bag and headed outside to check on her.

  It was a little overcast and the wind was whipping up a frenzy. I put my hand on her shoulder and she gasped.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

  Her eyes relaxed. “That’s okay. I didn’t hear you over the ocean.”

  “It’s one of my favorite sounds.” I held out the bag. “Here, I brought you this. I wanted to see how you’re doing. I know Dr. Rubin was your colleague.”

  She took the muffin from the bag and sniffed it. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” She set the muffin on the railing.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t . . .”

  Too late. Three seagulls dove like pterodactyls from Jurassic Park and grabbed the muffin while pecking feathers off one another. Within seconds shreds of wrapper dropped to the sand.

  Tally burst into tears.

  “It’s okay. You’re not from around here. You didn’t know.”

  She wrapped herself around me, sobbing. “What am I going to do? Poor Lance. I should have gone with him last night. He must have come back here after he went to the police station.”

  “What did he go to the police for?”

  “He had to fill out an official complaint to press charges against Agnes Pfeister-Pinze for attacking him with that taser. He didn’t want to go alone, but I said I was tired and wanted to go to the hotel.” She started to sob. “Now he’s dead and I wasn’t there for him. He knew someone was trying to kill him and I didn’t listen.”

  I patted her back and tried to be comforting. “What do you mean, he knew someone was trying to kill him? How?”

  “He was receiving these angry letters. At least one a week for months.”

  “That’s a long time to maintain the urgency on a death threat. Did he report it?”

  She pulled back from me and wiped her eyes. “He didn’t know where they were coming from. He suspected one of the lawsuits, but I always thought it was that crazy Agnes. We tried to settle her case out of court, but she refused.”

  I suddenly felt a wave of relief that I hadn’t had that consultation this morning. Then I remembered Dr. Rubin had died and I was ashamed of myself. I got over it quickly and moved right back to relieved. “How many lawsuits are there?”

  “A few.”

  “Are we talking like on that TV show, with the uneven boob jobs and botched face-lifts?”

  “Sometimes women come in with expectations that are unattainable. If you’re five foot two and weigh two hundred and fifty pounds, liposuction won’t make you look like a Victoria’s Secret model.”

  I self-consciously sucked my stomach in. “No, of course not. That would be ridiculous.” So much for Operation Poppy Gets Skinny.

  “But people think that all the time. They think cosmetic surgery is a replacement for diet and exercise. We kept telling Lance he should turn some of them away because they won’t be happy with their results. Even when we show them before and after projections, they still see what they want. But he never listens. He was always trying to fund another charity trip.”

  “Okay, so probably one of the lawsuits was sending the death threats, right? The cops should be able to track them down through the courts.”

  “Some of them are anonymous. The plaintiffs are using pseudonyms, so we don’t know exactly who they are.”

  “You can do that?”

  Tally hugged her arms across her chest. “Apparently, if you convince a judge your life is in danger, your identity can be hidden until trial. In six months we received news about so many lawsuits being filed and bad reviews on GreatDocs and other medical websites that Lance had to hire an IT forensic company to find out who was destroying his name and slandering Rubinesque online. I don’t even know how to get ahold of them now that he’s gone.” Her face twisted in grief and the tears started again. “I’m sorry.” She waved me off and ran down the boardwalk steps to be alone on the beach.

  I felt like someone had stacked weights on my shoulders. Other people’s grief hits you so much harder once you’ve experienced grief of your own. Tally had lost a friend she obviously cared deeply about. And without Dr. Rubin, it looked like the entire band might be out of a gig.

  I looked through the window at the back of our booth. Gia had a long line of customers, and it appeared that Sierra had shown up for work dressed to lie on the beach. I knew I’d better get in there to do some damage control. Maybe we could wrap her in a yoga mat from Zen Mania.

  The creak of a loose board came from my right and I caught the briefest glimpse of golden-brown corkscrew hair disappear around the corner.

  CHAPTER 23

  I tried to catch Agnes Pfeister-Pinze around the back of Convention Hall, but she was gone. If she went through that hole Gia had sliced into Dr. Rubin’s tent, she’d have a surprise encounter with the cops waiting for her on the other side.

  I went back around to our booth and assessed Sierra’s outfit choice for the day. Cutoff shorts and a midriff tank top over flip-flops.

  “What?” She looked from me to Gia. “Karla said the dress code was boardwalk casual.”

  Gia flattened his lips and looked at me.

  All I could do was shrug. In another month everyone would be going to work dressed like Sierra. “Why don’t we get you one of those skirts at the Earth Mother handwoven booth?” I had Gia give her some money and sent her off.

  My phone buzzed a text from Amber that said she was working on a lead. Stay ready. What is she getting me into now? Is she setting me up?

  My eyes fell on Officer Birkwell several feet away, dealing with complaints, which gave me an idea. I asked Gia to make me a cappuccino, and I cut up some of the cherry brandy muffins and piña colada macaroons to take around as free samples. I made a makeshift tray out of a plastic tote lid and I was off.

  I didn’t make it three feet before the seniors swarmed me and cleaned me out like a flock of seagulls. I looked back at the booth to see Gia laughing. I walked back over to the counter and put my tray down. “Very funny.” I filled it up again and this time covered it with a napkin.

  Round two, I made it to Officer Birkwell. “Hey there. I thought you’d like a cappuccino since you’re stuck here all day.” I handed him the paper cup in a sleeve and gave him a grin.

  He had good instincts. He took my coffee, but with some noticeable hesitation and a little side-eye.

  I lifted the napkin off the edge of the tray. “Try the muffins too.”

  He took a muffin wedge and gave me another look. “So, what’s this all about?”

  “What?” I laughed. “Nothing. I thought you might be hungry.”

  He popped the muffin wedge in his mouth but never took his eyes away from mine. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome . . .”

  “Shane.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  He gave me a crooked grin. “My name is Shane.”

  “Are you serious?”

  He narrowed his eyes, but he was still grinning. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I dunno. I just figured you’d have a cop name. Like Joe. Or Mike. Shane is so cool-sounding.” I realized my mistake the moment it left my mouth.

  “You don’t think I’m cool?”

  “No, of course you’re cool. You’re very cool. I’m sure you’re the mack daddy.” What am I saying? I hope that doesn’t mean something dirty.

  He chuckled. “Alright.
Can I have another sample?”

  I held the tray up. “Of course. I really need to ask you about something.”

  A wary look crossed his eyes and they lost a touch of their playfulness. “You know I can’t talk about an investigation.”

  “No, of course not. But that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

  He popped the muffin wedge in his mouth. “Okay, shoot.”

  I lowered my voice a smidge. “What do you know about Amber and Temarius Jackson?”

  His eyebrows shot up and he looked around. “What’s your involvement with that?”

  I tried to choose my words carefully. “Amber and I have worked together in the past, and she’s called on me as her CI before.” I hope that wasn’t a secret. “Temarius Jackson was also her CI. I just want to know if I can trust her.”

  Officer Birkwell had a grim look on his face. “I’ve known Amber for fifteen years. And there is no way she killed that kid. I don’t care what evidence they have against her.”

  “Can’t they run ballistics on the bullet that killed him?”

  “That’s what they’re doing now.” He lowered his voice to a near whisper. “She needs to be very careful. They brought Kieran Dunne down from Trenton to lead the IA investigation. He and Amber have had run-ins in the past that didn’t end well. He’ll try to take her down at any cost.”

  “How can that be ethical? Isn’t it his job to be fair and find the truth? I thought that was what Internal Affairs did.”

  Officer Birkwell snorted. “Not all cops are the good guys. Some of them join the force so they can get away with violence and abuse. They’re bullies with a badge and they make us all look bad. You learn who you can trust and who you need to stay away from.”

  That was all I could get out of him before a group of women showed up with free-treatment passes they’d won in the raffle, and he had to go to work defusing the situation.

  I got a second cappuccino and refilled the samples, then walked to the end of the tent and found Officer Consuelos guarding the far side. An older couple was asking him if he could get them a handicap tag for their car.

  “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to apply for one at the DMV. The police don’t handle that.”

  The woman grunted and led her husband away. “Come on, Earl. We’ll go ask the American one.”

  Officer Consuelos and I shared a look, and I held up the paper cup. “Coffee?”

  “Hey, thanks.” He took it from me and removed the lid. “I’m so tired right now, this is great.”

  I lifted the napkin and offered him a muffin. His eyes lit up. “Yaas. You’re a lifesaver.”

  “I was hoping I could ask you a question about the Internal Affairs investigation.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “Dude, you know misfortune follows me everywhere. I just want to make sure I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “Is Amber a good cop? Can I trust her?”

  He chewed thoughtfully before answering. “That depends on whether or not the rumors are true.”

  “What rumors?”

  We had to wait a minute while three women came over and asked if I had free samples under the napkin. After they’d each taken something, Officer Consuelos took another muffin sample, and we waited for them to be out of earshot. “She was up for promotion to lieutenant a few months ago but didn’t get it. Some people said it was department politics, but there were definitely whispers about something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Let’s just say once you’re on IA’s watch list, it’s just a matter of time before they make a move.”

  “So Internal Affairs has been watching Amber? Why? Do they think she’s taking bribes or something?” ’Cause I would have wanted to know about that last September when my butt was in a cell.

  He shrugged and shook his head. “Like I said, it’s just a rumor. She seems to close a lot of cases with very little evidence and there’s speculation about her methods. Not everyone is happy to have a woman on the force, and they sure don’t want her in charge. They’ll look for any reason to push her out.”

  “If the chief suspected Amber was dirty, couldn’t he just fire her?”

  “There has to be evidence of misconduct to remove a cop from duty. If she did what they’re saying, they’ll have it.”

  “Thanks. I’d better get the rest of these samples handed out and get back.”

  He peeked under the napkin and gave me a grin.

  “Take two.”

  I left Officer Consuelos happily eating cherry muffins and spotted the booth doing chair massage.

  I ambled over to the sign-up sheet and lifted the napkin from my tray. It was like watching fish in an aquarium when the kelp flakes get sprinkled in. An entire school of shoppers thronged me, stripped my tray of its samples, and swam off again. I was even visited by the little man and his wife who’d asked about the handicap placard.

  The woman reached in and took two macaroon samples. “One is for my sister. She’s home sick and couldn’t make it, but she has a ticket.”

  Her husband didn’t get that memo. “Your sister’s dead.”

  She glared at him and dragged him off toward the juice bar.

  The sign-up sheet for the free chair massage had disappeared. I spun around to see if it was behind me and came chest to chest with Tim.

  His expression was blank and yet somehow cold. I tried to say hello, but my throat had closed up on me. “Herm.”

  “Oh hiyee. Look, honey, it’s Poppy.” Gigi materialized from the abyss, holding a beautiful silver tray with twelve perfect paper cups of orange cakes. She also had the cutest little crystal decanter of olive oil. “Poppy, you can be the first one to hear our good news. Tell her, babe.” Tim didn’t answer, so Gigi carried on without him. “We’ve merged. I’m Maxine’s new pastry chef. We’re revamping the dessert menu away from the homespun muck it had fallen into, back into more chic, gourmet offerings. And we’re running Le Bon Gigi together. I’m so excited. I can’t wait to launch our new menu on Memorial Day.”

  “That’s wonderful. I wish you both the greatest success.” Dear God, who is saying that?

  Gigi blinked and looked like she was trying to determine whether or not my well-wishes were sincere.

  Tim’s jaw worked overtime to keep his mouth shut. He gave me a nod. “Thank you.”

  Gigi held up her tray. “Our first new dessert is one of my specialties. It’s an orange cake made with almonds, drizzled with the exquisite Morello DiSanto olive oil imported from Tuscany.”

  “It sounds amazing. Is it Paleo?” Since you are the Paleo Diva.

  “Absolutely.” Gigi grinned.

  Something in the way she was looking at me made me fear for my safety. I looked Tim in the eye. Would he let me get sick just because he hadn’t forgiven me?

  He gave me a look that clearly said, I don’t weigh in on your life anymore.

  I took the tiny sample she was offering me. “Thank you so much. I’ll just take it back to the booth with me and have it with my coffee.”

  Gigi smiled. “Byee.”

  I could still feel their eyes on my back as I took my sample of potential hives to La Dolce Vita.

  Someone had been very busy while I was gone, and I don’t mean Gia or Sierra. Our booth, and every other booth in our row, was covered with red-and-black bumper stickers that said Fraudster.

  CHAPTER 24

  “Who did this?”

  Gia shook his head and shrugged. “What?”

  “The stickers. How did you not see this happening?”

  Gia and Sierra came out to the aisle and reared back in surprise. Gia peeled the sticker off the back of the espresso machine while muttering in Italian. “Do you know how much this machine costs?”

  Sierra looked around the Hall to see if she could spot the culprit. “Someone must have been sticking them on while they were ordering. They weren’t here when I came back with
this butt-ugly skirt you made me buy.”

  Gia looked at the cup in my hand. “What do you have there?”

  I held it up for his inspection. “Probably anthrax. It’s something Gigi gave me. Orange cake with some fancy Tuscan olive oil. Morello DiSanti or something.”

  Gia twisted his neck. “Oh no. Uh-uh.” He took the cake sample and threw it in the trash. “Trust me.”

  “Yeah. I felt the same way.” Except I was probably still gonna eat it.

  I was refilling the pastry case with more coconut macaroons and pistachio rose shortbread when Shayla tried to slink past my booth. “Hey! Where you goin’?”

  She started walking faster, so I darted out after her. When I caught up to her, she spun around and caught me smelling her hair. “What are you doing?”

  “What are you doing? My hip is bruised all the way down to my knee after you threw me to the floor.”

  “Girl. Are you on something?”

  “Yeah. Tylenol. For my hip.”

  “Well, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She started walking again and I followed her to her booth.

  Her cousins had opened for her and they were trying to bluff their way through customer questions. When Shayla walked in they pointed at her. “See, here comes my grandmother now. She uses this stuff every day.”

  The woman took one look at Shayla and bought two of everything.

  I tried to corner Shayla in the back of her booth by her boxes of stock. “Then where’ve you been all morning?”

  She was dressed in a pink pencil skirt and a black silk blouse, but the wardrobe change wasn’t enough to account for her being missing all morning. She took oversize pink sunglasses off and threw them in her purse. “It’s none of your business, but I was waiting for Lance Rubin to meet me at a café down the street. I was going to confront him about stealing my antiaging concentrate and my laptop.”

  “Oh yeah? Did he show up?”

  “No. He stood me up.”

  “Yeah. ’Cause he’s dead.” I watched her reaction carefully. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t seem surprised at all.

  “Well, I wouldn’t know about that, would I?”