Glossy Lips

by Barbara Silkstone

  We broke into gales of laughter, agreeing we were the perfect team.

  “I have been trying to figure another way to support myself. Real estate is a struggle. I promise to do a good job, a great job. You won’t be sorry.”

  This was the life change that had frolicked around the edges of my mind as I drove from New York. I was tired of being a team player without a team. Let the fun begin. “Just to confirm—I’ll keep the books and the recipes. You’ll provide the much-needed local contacts. We’ll split the work and the profits fifty-fifty.”

  Lizzy’s eyes moistened. “Are you really sure? Your offer caught me by surprise.”

  “What happens when you cut off a fish’s nose?” I asked, a smile playing around the corners of my mouth.

  “He stops smelling!” Lizzy could barely get out the words, as she choked over her laughter.

  “See? It is the humor that will be our golden ring on this merry-go-round. We will have such fun, trust me.”

  There we stood in a dusty old beach shop, two virtual strangers who were more like old friends, snorting, chuckling and cackling. We shook hands and the brand, Nonna’s Cold Cream, was born.

  My new partner rummaged in her purse, found a slip of paper and called the shop owner. “Mr. Pepper? Prepare the lease. The tenants? Olive Peroni and Lizzy Kelly.” We were ready to capture the cold cream market in Starfish Cove.

  Falling against each other silly with glee, shoulder to shoulder, we ambled to my car. “I can’t wait to break the news to Jaimie. List with Lizzy is going out of business. Her services are no longer needed. It’s time she reined in that sharp tongue and learned how to get along with the human race without my help.”

  We climbed into my Prius and backed out of the ice cream shop parking lot. I braked for a moment and stared up at the beam over the front door, envisioning how the sign would look. “I’ll call Leo Ross, Nonna’s attorney and have him draw up an agreement for us to sign.”

  “I have to pick up my car at your place. Can I leave WonderDog with you until I get a mechanic to look at the Jag? I wouldn’t want it to break down now that I am almost half of Nonna’s Cold Cream.”

  I drove along Starfish Boulevard, my mind flitting with happy thoughts of odd shaped boxes and shiny round jars, all bearing our name. “We will need a logo and a slogan,” I told my new partner. We tossed ideas back and forth as we drove to Nonna’s.

  I pulled into the resident parking area at Sandy Shores Towers and gathered my things from the car. “I’ll put some tea on and we can set about planning. This will be such fun. I have a feeling my Nonna is smiling down on me—us.”

  “Oops. Let me re-park my car. It’s in a resident’s space.” I walked behind Lizzy as she strutted to her car. The warmth of the sun caressed my face as I imagined my new life as a beauty maven.

  We drew closer to Lizzy’s car. I smelled something foul.

  “My Jag really stinks almost as if Peanut, I mean Newton, hid rotten fruit under the seat,” Lizzy said as she wrinkled her nose.

  “It reeks. Check the trunk,” I stepped to the back of her car. “You said you heard a thumping sound. Maybe you are carrying a rotten watermelon.”

  Chapter 15

  Lizzy popped the trunk. I felt faint. Reality slipped away as I gazed at the body of a man lying on its side, wrapped in a curve around a flattened spare tire. I sucked in a quick breath and instantly regretted it. My hand flew to my mouth.

  It all happened so quickly. Lizzy screamed and stumbled backward holding her hand as if to ward off what she was seeing. “Peanut! Oh, Peanut!” With a slow, disbelieving shake of her head, she turned to me. “It’s Peanut.”

  “So I gather.” I tried to keep my voice even, but I knew my eyes had grown twice their size. Trouble did trail my new partner, but I wasn’t about to give up on her. I pulled my cell phone from my purse and dialed 911.

  With my arm around my trembling friend, we stood a distance from the trunk turning our backs to the car. An elderly couple wearing matching pink T-shirts toddled passed. They glanced at our faces and then at bent Peanut. I expected them to scream in panic, but instead the old gent pointed to the body and asked if we needed help with it.

  “We’re good.” I managed a tone that conveyed the normalcy of having a dead man folded over the spare tire.

  They both smiled. “If you’re sure you’re okay, then have a good day,” the old gent said. They continued on to the entrance of Sandy Shores Towers. I shook off the thought that bodies in trunks were a regular occurrence in Starfish Cove. Nonna never let on.

  As the sound of wailing sirens drew closer, I looked at Lizzy. She had tears in her eyes as she groped in her purse, pulling out a package of cigarettes. Holding the blue and white mash-up of cellophane and paper, she studied the pack for a long minute and then handed it to me. I was proud she would tough it out; besides I was certain she was carrying another pack.

  An ambulance arrived accompanied by two police cars. The first bore the lettering of the Starfish Cove Police and the second carried the medallion of the Sheriff’s Department. I thought I had left all this body-in-the-trunk stuff behind in Myron’s world, but the hammering in my gut told me nothing had changed except the players.

  It was the first car that sent my heart cramming into my throat, and not in a good way. Kal, the officer with one name, stepped from the police vehicle before the driver had even come to a full stop. Our life of crime had just escalated from car theft to murder.

  Kal gave us a sideways glance, barked the word “stay” as if we were two dogs, and then proceeded to the trunk. He peered at the folded corpse in the sports shirt and tan slacks, and then slipped on a pair of vinyl gloves. He pressed his fingers to Peanut’s neck just like they do on television. Stepping back, Kal shook his head.

  With his left hand, he flagged a camera-toting officer. “Robbie, get photos of the tires, the edges of the trunk, too. Heck! Take shots of the entire setting.”

  A deputy sheriff stepped from his car, hoisting his gun belt over his belly. “I’ve got this one,” Kal said. “Someone found the body within Starfish Cove limits. It’s ours unless we find out differently.”

  The sheriff took on the demeanor of a dog losing a battle over bone. He harrumphed, repeated his belt-lifting and waddled back to his vehicle. The red and blue light spun, the engine raced and the sheriff’s car squealed out of the parking lot.

  A black van arrived. It was marked Medical Examiner in small lettering. The sight gave me the chills. But I closed my lips and held myself in a professional stance.

  “You two just can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?” Kal advanced on us, while an audience of residents and passersby gathered like napkin lint on a little black dress. “Isn’t the victim the same guy who picked up your car last night? Sterling Kelly’s assistant…” He hesitated over the name.

  “Peanut,” Lizzy said. “I mean, Newton Nott.” She put her fist to her mouth and bit like she was trying to muffle a scream.

  I stared at Kal’s gloves, icked at the thought they had just been fingering Peanut’s well-baked neck. It was almost a certainty that a man smooshed in a car trunk, in ninety-degree heat, had to be dead, but I watched enough detective shows to know the investigator was duty-bound to look for a pulse. Just keep those disgusting gloves away from us.

  Kal fired questions first at Lizzy and then me; but with the crowd growing larger and louder, it was hard to concentrate. “Did you touch the body?” He looked frustrated as officer Robbie failed to thwart the rubberneckers. I wondered why he didn’t take us aside; maybe he didn’t trust his assistant to protect the crime scene or perhaps he thought he could force us to confess if we remained near the corpse.

  “Neither of us touched him,” Lizzy said, sounding insulted by the idea. Kal trained his dark eyes on her while he took a small notebook from his pocket. “When was the last time you saw the victim?”

  She stammered. “I can’t remember. Peanut wasn’t at Sterling’s house when I pick
ed up my car this morning. He’s usually waiting on his boss like a servant.”

  “What time was that?” Kal glared at me. I was certain he wrote me off as unreliable since I failed to keep her away from Sterling. The officer continued to grill us, but it was hard to remember the course of events.

  Three questions into our embarrassing public interrogation we were spilling the beans about the lip gloss on the mirror. There was no way around it; we had to account for our whereabouts. And no we hadn’t seen Peanut at Lizzy’s cottage. And yes, it was a mistake not to report the vandalism. Did we have a witness for our alibi? Yes. WonderDog; but evidently canines don’t count.

  The rubberneckers drew closer despite being waved off. The junior officer unrolled a spool of yellow crime tape. It spoke well for the Starfish Cove criminal element that the tape was melted together from lack of use.

  Looking over Kal’s shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Jaimie’s BMW pulling into the drive, blocking the police car. Just what we needed, Don Rickles in drag. I could see the spectators parting as her platinum head nudged them out of her path.

  The detective was scribbling in his notebook. “Now let me get this straight. You two are accusing Mrs. Kelly’s husband of breaking into her house and writing obscenities on her mirror?” He pinned us one at a time, and then together, with a glare that would freeze a cup of hot tea. “Was this before or after you decided to take Mr. Nott for a ride in the trunk of your car?”

  “Don’t call me Mrs. I am not a Mrs.” Lizzy placed her hands on her hips and stood her ground.

  Kal turned on Lizzy. “He’s still your husband. I’ve heard it before. You’ve been trying for years to finalize your divorce. Yada yada. Skip that part. Get to the last twenty-four hours. I’m trying to account for Mr. Kelly’s whereabouts after he called in his stolen car report. Does he have a key to your house?”

  A little light went off in my head. Did Sterling report the car stolen to be certain Lizzy wouldn’t be at home? I filed the thought.

  She shook her head in response to Kal’s question. “Of course not. I’d never give him a key. It was under a fake rock near the door.”

  “The old key under the rock trick. Brilliant,” Kal said.

  Jaimie elbowed into our inner circle, looking from me to Lizzy to Kal. It was then that she caught sight of Newton Nott stuffed in the trunk and the medical examiner probing him. “Peanut!” she wailed, rather theatrically. One would have thought they were lovers gauging by her reaction. She ran to the trunk, but the coroner pushed her aside while a newly arrived uniformed officer took her under the arm and dragged her back to join the immediate circle of possible killers, aka Lizzy and me.

  “So you are trying to insinuate an attorney of Mr. Kelly’s reputation would lower himself to write obscenities on your mirror. To what point?” Kal asked. He didn’t have to sound so unfriendly.

  “An attorney of his reputation?” Lizzy snorted. “You answered your own question.”

  “What mirror? Where?” Jaimie chirped. She turned on Lizzy. “You still haven’t told me what happened last night! What obscenities?”

  Kal looked at Lizzy with a pained expression. How could he suspect her when we called in the discovery of the body? According to the Myron Meyers’ handbook on offing, we would have dumped the body in the Meadowlands of Jersey if we were guilty of killing Peanut—Mr. Nott.

  I cleared my throat. “As I recall Officer Kal—not officer—just Kal, it was you who mentioned the irrational behavior divorce incites. Besides they weren’t exactly obscene. From my experience, words like Womdampy and Lubber are only used during a meltdown.”

  The medical examiner padded over on his blue-bagged feet. “I have a question for the owner of the car.”

  “This is Mrs.—I mean Ms. Kelly. You may ask her about the car.” Kal nodded at the pudgy guy in the not-so-fashionable bluefoot wear. “This is Doctor Sigmund Colon.”

  “How long was the victim in the trunk?” Doctor Colon asked.

  Lizzy felt around in her pockets. I was certain she was looking for more cigarettes. She gave me a pleading look, but I shook my head.

  She got testy, either from lack of cigarettes or the stupidity of the question. “How would I know? The car was out of my possession until about 9:30 this morning. I drove it a few miles, but mostly it sat parked here.”

  “I’m done questioning you two right now. Don’t leave town,” Kal said, tucking his notebook in his pocket. He leaned over and whispered to me, “I warned you to keep her away from Kelly.”

  “What about my Jag?” Lizzy asked. “I need to get something out of the glove compartment!”

  I shook my head and mouthed the word No. There must be a stash of cigarettes she needed to rescue.

  “Your car is a crime scene. It’s being impounded.” Kal said, while he cut his eyes to Jaimie and then me. When we failed to respond, he looked at Lizzy again. “You know your husband’s routine better than anyone. Where would he be now? Home or office?”

  Lizzy glanced at her watch. “He’s probably at his office on Hyacinth Street.”

  “Later!” he said, pointing a finger at me. He then stepped to his police car, his junior officer trailing after him.

  Chapter 16

  Not wanting to watch Peanut’s body transfer from the trunk to the coroner’s van or witnessing the towing of the Jag, or get splatted by frogs raining down on us from the heavens, I motioned to Lizzy. We darted for the elevator, leaving the curious crowd to watch the final act. I didn’t see the pastel T-shirted couple. Maybe they’d gone their merry way seeking something of more interest.

  Lizzy and I weren’t quick enough in our dash. Jaimie was hot on our trail, forcing herself into the elevator with us. The three of us were silent on the short ride to the second floor. We legged it toward the condo, avoiding eye contact with Jaimie.

  I felt an elbow in my side and figured Lizzy was up to something. She turned on her employee. “The office is unmanned again. I want you behind that desk for the rest of the day!”

  “The phone is on call forward. Let’s get inside. I want to know who killed Peanut!” Jaimie was all sharp edges and about to slice into us. I was determined to find out what sort of emotions boiled beneath her sarcastic surface.

  Lizzy whispered. “We’re not going to shake her, but let’s not break the news about our cold cream business.”

  Jaimie pushed past us, burst through the door, and charged at the sliding glass doors to the patio. “What a fabulous view! I have at least four or five buyers who would snap this beauty up in an instant!”

  I was stunned by her mood swing; her actions were beyond the norm. Rather than allow myself a minute to think about the transformation of Jaimie Toast from sorrowful to super-sales, I ducked into the kitchen to hide the cold cream jars. I gathered the glass containers with the speed of an animated cartoon, moved them into the cabinet, closed the door and spun around in time to watch the blabbermouth enter the room.

  Jaimie gushed over the kitchen cabinets and the stainless-steel appliances, none of which were worthy of her effusive praise. One minute she was throwing herself on Peanut’s corpse, crawling into the car trunk in her grief, and the next she was pushing for a listing. She was scary skitso.

  Lizzy stepped into the room, caught my eye and shrugged. I followed her into the living room and we each took a seat while Jaimie paced. The blonde’s eyes spun in what I recognized to be mental chaos.

  “Got anything to drink?” she said. “The sun is over the yardarm.”

  “Water or tea,” I said.

  “What kind of gin joint is this?” She plopped on the sofa as WonderDog loped into the room with Puff riding on his head. The hound jumped up to slurp Jaimie’s face while my kitten tumbled into her lap. I took it as points in her favor that the animals liked her.

  Jaimie tousled the dog’s stringy fur. “How’s Wonder?” She stroked Puff. “Who’s your little girlfriend?”

  Lizzy sniffled and wiped at her nose. The realization s
he had driven around with a body in her trunk must have been sinking in. I was still processing the last hour feeling as if I sat through a Scorsese movie.

  “Did you gals have anything to do with Peanut’s murder?” Jaimie demanded. She leaned forward and dissected me with a look. “You’re from New York and maybe Lizzy knows you, but I don’t know anything about you. You could be a hit man hired to rub out our friend.”

  “That would be hit woman,” I snapped. “Did your friend require rubbing out?”

  Jaimie dropped back into her seat and watched her wit fall flat on the floor.

  The idea I was wrestling with won. Despite the presence of the loudmouth blonde, I said to Lizzy. “Let’s cruise past Sterling’s office. If we see Kal’s police car we’ll know Sterling’s being questioned there and we can boogie to his house, the last place Peanut was seen. I noticed something odd when we picked up your car that requires a second look.”

  “Addy will be there,” Lizzy said. “She’ll either be in the main house or the caretaker’s cottage. She and her daughter live within sight of Sterling’s windows. Addy’s pretty protective of him.”

  “Can you talk your way around her?” I asked.

  “If Lizzy can’t, I can.” Jaimie bragged. “Addy and I go back to when she first worked for Sterling. Her daughter calls me auntie.”

  I doubted her; perhaps it was the hateful looks Addy gave her earlier in the day.

  Lizzy cast Jaimie an incredulous stare. “Since when have you become thick with Sterling’s housekeeper?”

  “How many times have I told you, people like me!” Jaimie said, brushing Puff off her lap and nudging WonderDog aside. She stood, letting her wraparound dress pop open.

  I shook my head in disgust, but it failed to register with Blamey Jaimie. Oh goodness, she had me doing it now. Name rhyming was catchy.

  “Are we breaking and entering?” Lizzy asked. “What’s the caper?”

  “Did you notice how Kal connected the timing of the smeared mirror with Peanut’s murder? Before he jumps to conclusions about you, I want to check out something I saw at Sterling’s house.”