Mascara and Murder (Murder In Style Book 3)

by Gina LaManna

  With a shrug, I picked my way across the front lawn toward my neighbor’s house. I had a one-track mind, and that track was headed straight toward Caffeine Central. I could’ve taken the sidewalk but decided time was of the essence, so I chose to blaze my own trail to Matt’s for the morning coffee run through our yards.

  “Gross,” I commented, pushing Matt’s unlocked door open. “Did you see the dirt out there? It’s all... wet. Not a good look on these shoes.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be running a garden shop?” The voice coming from the kitchen was female, and it stopped me cold. “I don’t think gardeners are supposed to think dirt is gross.”

  A second later, the female behind said voice came into view. Allie was seated at Matt’s kitchen table, and the result threw me for a loop. She was in my spot at Matt’s table. Her hands were wrapped around my mug of coffee. It was unsettling.

  Matt looked up from his perch behind the counter, holding his traditional mug up to his lips. He smirked at the look on my face.

  “Don’t worry,” he said easily. “I saved you some coffee.”

  “I wasn’t worried,” I stuttered, wiping the look of surprise off my face. “Good morning to both of you.”

  “Good morning yourself,” Matt said, pushing a cup of coffee across the table toward me. Then he came around the counter and looked me up and down. “I’ve learned not to ask what you’re wearing.”

  “It’s shopping day,” I said in explanation. “This was an intricately planned outfit. Anyway, I’m sorry to bother you. I didn’t realize you had company.”

  “I don’t,” Matt corrected. “You have company.”

  I gave a too-high-pitched laugh. “Ah, funny. Why did Allie come here instead of to my place?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  Matt eased closer to me, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. His voice dropped to an intense register. He had on a worn fire department T-shirt that was threadbare at this point but somehow made him look all the more attractive. His arms were also pretty big guns, not that I was comparing them to Cooper Dear’s arsenal. Then again, Matt had probably gotten those muscles from saving puppies and cats and women and children from dangerous fires.

  I fanned myself. “When’s the last time you saved someone from a fire?”

  Both of Matt’s eyebrows shot upward this time. “How’s that relevant before nine in the morning?”

  “Forget it,” I muttered. “Remind me why Allie is in your kitchen?”

  “Apparently that’s for you to know and for me to find out.” Matt’s voice lilted with amusement. “I’m not sure it’s any of my business. But it is news to me that I’m running a coffee shop out of my home on Tuesdays.”

  “You’re following in the steps of greatness,” I said. “Your grandmother will be proud to hear that.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Matt studied me with a gleam in his eye. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He dropped his voice until it was so soft only I could hear it. “I saw the look on your face when you walked in and heard someone talking.”

  “And what look would that be?” I asked innocently.

  “The I’m-not-happy-another-woman-is-stealing-my-mug-of-coffee look,” Matt said with a wide grin. “There’s nothing to be ashamed about. It’s great coffee.”

  “How utterly sexist of you,” I said haughtily. I tilted my nose up extra high, and I examined my fingernails for a chip in the new manicure, which I knew wasn’t there. “It wasn’t the fact that it was a woman; it was the fact there was another person drinking my coffee. On my stool. I need to be properly caffeinated for my shopping day. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

  “It’s fine, seeing as it’s my butt,” Allie piped up. “I didn’t mean to steal your chair. Stool. Whatever. Is this your cup? You need to write your name on it or something.”

  “You’re ridiculous.” I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe you stole my coffee mug.”

  “I’m sure Matt has others,” Allie said diplomatically. “Plus, it’s not my fault you were late. I came here looking for you.”

  “Why, exactly?”

  “Because you’re always at Matt’s.”

  “Not always.”

  “Let’s not argue.”

  “But—”

  “Do come in,” Allie said, beckoning me into the kitchen as if she owned the place. “Take a seat. We need to multitask. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”

  “We?” I asked weakly.

  “We,” she confirmed with a decisive nod of her head. “If you think I’m letting you go into the murder trap that is the Mall of America alone, think again.”

  “First of all, it’s a shopping mall, not a murder trap. Your imagination is getting the better of you,” I said. “Second of all, I have plans. With a friend.”

  “A Hollywood friend?” Allie asked.

  “Does it matter?” I asked defensively. Then I relented. “Yes. She’s in town for the movie.”

  “Don’t do it, Jenna. Don’t ditch the rest of us for your old friends,” Allie said. “They dropped you like used tissue paper when you left. We scooped up the pieces of that tissue paper and very carefully glued it back together.”

  I flinched at the image but made a jerking gesture for Allie to follow me. “Let’s go. No time to waste. The mall opens soon, and I want to be parked and waiting at the doors when that happens.”

  “Aye, aye, captain,” Allie said. Then she saluted Matt. “Thanks for the caffeine.”

  “But...” Matt looked down at his counter. “I made waffles.”

  “Mind if I...” I meandered over to the table and picked up a dry waffle.

  Matt rolled his eyes, but he grabbed a travel mug out of his cupboard and dumped some coffee in there as well.

  “Be free,” he said, handing it to me. “And don’t come back in debt.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” I called good-naturedly over my shoulder. “Thanks for the sustenance.”

  Within minutes, Allie and I were in my very odd-looking car—a PT cruiser with very ugly wooden paneling on the side—and headed north. We had the windows down despite the chilly spring air. It felt nice, brushing through our hair as we cranked up the volume to some nineties tunes that added a nice nostalgic feel to the ride.

  It was punctuated only by the ring of my cell phone. I hit speaker and rolled up the windows—manually—without looking at the number.

  “Jenna,” a deep voice rolled over the phone line. “Where are you?”

  “On the road,” I hedged. “Definitely not driving. Allie’s holding my phone.”

  Allie quickly grabbed the phone from my lap.

  “Please don’t give me a ticket,” I said to Cooper. “I agreed to style you for the wedding.”

  “This isn’t a personal call—exactly,” Cooper said, sounding confused. “I think you need to cancel your plans for today and head home.”

  “But...” I pouted. “I spent hours preparing for today. What’s more important than a shopping day at the Mall of America?”

  “Plus, she’s got to give her friend a ride,” Allie added. “We can’t leave Miss Starlett stranded.”

  My cheeks turned warm. “Yeah, of course. That too.”

  “Very noble of you,” the chief said dryly. “But, unfortunately, I’ve got some bad news. And someone seems to think you might know something about it.”

  “Bad news?” I echoed. “Is my mom—”

  “Your family’s fine,” Cooper said. “But Tennison Daniels is not.”

  I racked my brain but couldn’t place a face with a name. “Gosh, that sounds familiar. Is he a resident of Blueberry Lake?”

  “With a name like Tennison,” Allie said, looking at me, “you really think he’s from Blueberry Lake?”

  That’s when it hit me. Tennison Daniels—C-list actor. I’d styled him for a low-budget romantic comedy at the start of my career. While I’d gone on to style A-listers a
nd big budget movies, he’d hung around the C-list for most of his career.

  “Tennison,” I said. “Right. Is he in town for the movie?”

  “He was supposed to be,” Cooper said. “But I’d prefer you pull over before we keep talking.”

  I glanced in the rearview mirror and pulled off onto the nearest exit. I stopped at a gas station, catching a few odd looks as my brakes squealed with the effort.

  “Stopped,” I said, feeling out of breath. “What’s up?”

  “Tennison Daniels was shot this morning,” Cooper said. “And he’s in critical condition at the hospital. Your mother thought you’d want to know.”

  “I—” I gasped. “That’s awful! But why would I want to know?”

  Cooper cleared his throat. “Apparently Tennison isn’t the only one who you know in town. And as luck would have it, there’s a chance you know the man at the top of our suspect list.”

  “Suspect list,” I said, quickly putting the piece of the puzzle together. “You mean the shooting wasn’t an accident? It was murder?”

  “Attempted murder,” Cooper clarified.

  “I didn’t do it,” I said bluntly. “I was in the car. And at Matt’s. I have witnesses.”

  “Jenna,” Cooper said firmly. “I never thought it was you. But there’s a man by the name of Ryan Lewis saying that he wants to talk to you.”

  The pit dropped further in my stomach. “No.”

  “No?” Cooper asked. “No... you don’t want to speak with him?”

  “Tell him to get a lawyer,” I said. “I don’t have anything to say to him.”

  “All right,” Cooper said. “Will do. Sorry to bother you.”

  The call disconnected. I turned to look at Allie. She looked back at me. It was clear she was trying not to appear too curious. She battled a look of intrigue from her face and turned her lips into a pout.

  “Sad,” she said. “So sad. An attempted murder. A real live murder on a set. Right here in Blueberry Lake.”

  I heaved a huge sigh. “How am I expected to go shopping after receiving news like that?”

  “Are you saying we should turn around?” Allie played with her hands, her voice leaping up an octave. “We could go back, sort of poke our noses into what’s going on. Very quietly. Very, very quietly.”

  “I just don’t think I have it in me to hunt for bargains today,” I said sadly. “Seems a little unimportant when a man’s life is in limbo. But what about Cassidy? And I was hoping to get ideas to style Cooper for the wedding.”

  “Uber will take care of Miss Starlett,” Allie said. “I’m sure the film has a budget for transporting its actors to and from the set.”

  I exhaled, then made the phone call to Cassidy and canceled our plans. She was very understanding.

  “No problem,” she said. “I completely understand. That’s awful about Tennison. Of course I’ll grab a cab—don’t think twice about it. I’ll see you when I get to town.”

  Then I turned the car around. We headed back toward Blueberry Lake.

  Once we were safely back on the freeway, Allie turned to look at me. “So about this Ryan Lewis fellow—”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “I’m not getting involved.”

  “Checks out,” Allie said, giving me a sideways glance. “It’s not like you to get involved in murders. You know, help solve crimes. That sort of thing.”

  “That’s in the past,” I said. “Cooper’s a smart guy. He’ll figure this one out.”

  “You’re really not going to ask around?” Allie asked. “Talk to this Ryan?”

  “No, I’m not,” I said. “I can stay away.”

  “Right,” Allie said. “But if I were a betting woman, I wouldn’t be taking that bet.”

  “Thanks for the confidence.”

  “Anytime,” she said. “Anytime. Now, can you step on it, Miss Lead Foot? Now is not the time to take things slowly. Your mother only has so much window front available in her store, and I’m sure the front-row seats are already taken. Pick up the pace, girlfriend!”

  Chapter 4

  We made it back to Blueberry Lake in record time. I parked outside my mother’s shop, and as Allie had predicted, the store was already jam-packed full of people—women and men—who were pretending to “discreetly” get a peek of the show happening a block away.

  Allie elbowed her way through to the front. I followed her. Not because I was all that invested in what was happening, but because Allie was literally dragging me behind her.

  Once Allie had secured us optimal seats from the viewing deck, she glanced around at the patrons of Blueberry Lake and cleared her throat.

  “Well?” she asked. “What’s happening?”

  “It was awful,” Angela Dewey, my neighbor started. “We all heard the gunshot. It left me deaf in two ears.”

  “You were already deaf in two ears,” Simon Berwinkle said. “It left me practically blind.”

  “You were already blind.” Simon’s wife elbowed him in the chest. “Don’t exaggerate.”

  “Facts,” Allie pressed. “We want facts. What happened? When?”

  “A little over an hour ago is when it happened,” Sandy Larson piped up. “We all heard the gunshot. Then the town just froze. Everything stopped. Someone dropped a mug of coffee over at June’s, and we all heard it.”

  “That was me,” Simon said sadly. “I walked into a chair by accident when I heard the sound.”

  “Told you that you were already blind,” his wife grumbled. “You always run into the same chair.”

  “Focus, people.” Allie clapped her hands. “Okay, so there was a gunshot. Then what?”

  “Then came the screaming,” someone else said. “Someone was in pain. Then there was a female screaming, too, and then a lot of others. Probably the people who saw it happen, the people on set. If I saw someone get shot, I’d scream, too.”

  “Then we unfroze,” Angela Dewey continued. “And we all hurried to see what was happening. Hence the reason we’re all shoved in here. Maybe if Mrs. Beasley would open her knitting shop—”

  “The shop is closed,” Mrs. Beasley explained, “because of lack of demand. Everyone is here.”

  “Because you’re closed!” Angela argued. “You can see almost as good there. And then I wouldn’t have Simon stepping on my toes all day long.”

  “Sorry,” Simon’s wife apologized. “I’m telling you. He’s been blind for twenty years.”

  “Do they know who shot the victim?” Allie asked. “Or why?”

  “That’s the mystery,” someone else chimed in. “Nobody knows anything.”

  Allie sighed. “I figured. That’s always how these mysteries start.”

  “Hence the reason they’re called mysteries,” I said. “If someone shot him and offered a confession on the spot, there wouldn’t be much mystery. Just a crime.”

  Before Allie could offer another rebuttal, Chief Cooper came into view. He looked up, directly into my mother’s storefront. Then he started walking toward the shop.

  The crowd scattered. Mrs. Beasley hoofed it just as fast as she could back across the street to her knitting shop, which suddenly and mysteriously opened amid the chaos. Several others began shopping my mother’s store with extreme gusto, trying to look busy. Still others took off in the direction of June’s café.

  It was only me, Allie, and my mother, left up front by the time Cooper actually reached the shop. Allie quietly left my side, and my mother disappeared into the storeroom as Cooper entered the store.

  “You came back,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Didn’t exactly feel like a festive shopping trip considering all that happened.”

  “I take it you know this guy, Ryan?”

  “A little,” I hedged. “We’re not close. Anymore.”

  Cooper nodded. He looked like he wanted to ask more, but he refrained. “He keeps telling me that he needs to talk to you. I told him you don’t want to, and that you certainly don’t have to.”
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  “Good,” I said. “I don’t want to speak to him.”

  “That’s fair,” Cooper said. “I respect your wishes, and I will continue to tell him that. But I was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee. Ask you a few questions.”

  “Why can’t I seem to stay away from murder investigations?”

  The tip of Cooper’s lips quirked up in a humorously dark, wry sort of grin. “Attempted murder.”

  “In that case...” I threw my hands up. “What the heck. I could use a coffee.”

  COOPER LED THE WAY down Main Street to June’s café. Suspiciously, there was no one out and about. Everyone had clustered behind various storefronts to peer out from behind the safety of sale signs. As we walked, I felt eyes following us from all angles. The only sounds I could hear came from behind us, from the movie set.

  When we reached June’s, I paused at the door and glanced back at the street blockers that signified the start to the movie set. Except now, crime scene tape was wrapped all around the end of the block. There were a few large trailers that mostly obscured the set from view. Every once in a while, a person would become visible as they buzzed between trailers, glancing around furtively as they moved.

  “Good morning... well, now, I suppose it’s afternoon,” June declared as we entered. “What can I get the two of you?”

  I didn’t miss the way she gave a sneaky smile at us. I gave a shake of my head, but June promptly ignored it and focused on Cooper’s face.

  “I’ll take...” Cooper glanced at the menu, though at this point, anyone who looked at the menu was either a tourist or was simply doing so as a formality. “Two black coffees?”

  “Cream on the side,” I added with a sigh. “It’s that sort of day.”

  June nodded solemnly. “I’ll throw in a scone. But it’ll have to be lemon raspberry. The film crew bought me plum out of the snickerdoodle ones I baked special for this morning.”

  Cooper led me to a small table in one corner of the café. As usual, there were a few groups of people scattered around the shop enjoying a variety of coffee beverages: teas, pancakes and waffles. I didn’t spend long studying the rest of the customers, instead turning my attention to the man before me.