Mascara and Murder (Murder In Style Book 3)

by Gina LaManna

  “I can keep a secret.”

  “Ryan’s production company is going under,” Cooper said. “They’ve way overextended themselves on their last three films, and all of them have flopped. If this one isn’t a runaway success, they’re going under.”

  “So it is true. Cassidy told me she’d heard rumors about that. And while it’s really unfortunate for him, I don’t completely understand how that leads to murder.”

  “I don’t, either,” Cooper said. “I’m not saying it does. It might be totally irrelevant. But I’m pursuing all leads. I did think it was a little fishy, though I’ll admit I don’t quite know what to make of it, yet.”

  I stifled a yawn.

  “Sorry to bore you,” Cooper said with a grin. “Should I get you to bed? I’ll leave. I promise.”

  “No, no. Just stay for a few minutes longer.” I wriggled down on the couch and re-flopped my leg onto Cooper’s lap. “And will you do that thing I like again?”

  Cooper muffled a snort. “Could you be more specific?”

  I kept my eyes squished shut. “On my legs.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  Cooper’s fingers began to play a soft, sensual tune over my legs. I kept my eyes closed, trying to soak it all in. It’d been so long since I’d been so comfortable, so secure, so... sleepy. Though I tried my best to fight the yawns that were coming fast and furious, eventually I succumbed, and even the touch of Cooper’s hands faded away as I slipped into sleep.

  I WOKE UP SLOWLY THE next morning, and even before I opened my eyes, I felt a surge of confusion. The light was different. There was no sunlight poking me directly in my eyes. Instead, there were shadows shifting across me, and—

  My eyes flew open. I was on the couch, and I wasn’t alone. In fact, someone’s eyes were staring back at me.

  “Good morning,” Cooper said. “I was wondering if you were coming to. You had about half an hour of conversation with yourself before you opened your eyes.”

  “I don’t sleep talk!”

  “Okay, then.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Cooper looked a little alarmed. “You invited me in?”

  “Yeah. Last night!”

  “I wasn’t aware you ever asked me to leave.”

  “I fell asleep.”

  “Believe me, I’m aware. I was sort of stuck.”

  “Stuck?” I pulled my legs up, tucked them under me. “You should’ve thrown my legs off. I didn’t mean to trap you here against your will.”

  “It wasn’t a hardship. Don’t worry so much.”

  “Still. You weren’t supposed to stay over. What’s Angela Dewey going to think?”

  Cooper laughed. “I don’t really care what she thinks. Aren’t I allowed to stay over at my girlfriend’s house?”

  “I mean...” The words were foreign coming out of his mouth. It felt uncomfortable and new and exciting and strange. But I liked it. “Yeah, but she’ll think we’re... and we’re not...”

  “It’s our business what we do and don’t do. When we do it and when we don’t.”

  “Yeah, but...” I sighed. “You have an advantage. I’m just waking up, and I can’t think straight, yet. You’re making too much sense.”

  Cooper leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “If you don’t mind, I need to use your restroom.”

  As Cooper disappeared down the hall, I sank into the cushions of my couch. I pulled up my phone and looked at it. There were already a slew of text messages there. But the one I was looking for was from my cousin, May.

  She was married to Joe, a firefighter who worked with Matt. Lately, she’d been super busy with her pregnancy and preparing her restaurant, her home, and her life for the new addition they’d have within the next few months.

  Instead of responding to her text, I called her. The second she answered, I blurted, “Cooper slept over.”

  “How was it?”

  “Good. I mean, he just slept on the couch.”

  “Were you also on the couch?” she asked through a yawn.

  “I was, but nothing happened. Except, a little bit. You know, some kissing.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “I heard from your mother that you had a date with Cooper last night. Things are progressing quickly.”

  “We’re dating!”

  “That’s great, Jenna.”

  “I know you were always Team Matt—”

  “I’m team whoever makes Jenna happy at seven a.m. on a Saturday morning,” she said. “Are you happy?”

  “I am,” I said, fanning myself. “So happy. But—”

  “Great,” May said. “Then let me go back to sleep, and we can further discuss this at a more reasonable hour.”

  “Right, right,” I said. “I should go anyway. He’s just stepped away to use the bathroom, and I have to make sure I don’t have morning breath.”

  I leapt off the couch and sprinted upstairs. I brushed my teeth, rinsed, then added a swipe of mascara, just enough to look very, very natural, and a hint of blush—again, very, very natural. I sprinted back downstairs and returned to the couch and underneath the blanket just as Cooper returned.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem a little out of breath.”

  “Just... hungover.”

  “I didn’t think you had that much to drink.”

  “Want coffee?”

  I bounded to my feet and made my way to the kitchen. Cooper followed me. We let conversation go by the wayside as we moved next to one another, grabbing mugs and beans and grinders.

  “Pancakes?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “Blueberry?”

  “That would require me having blueberries,” I said. “How about chocolate chips?”

  He grinned. “I have a feeling my meals will be a little more interesting with you in my life.”

  “Everything will be a little more interesting.” I raised my finger with the correction. “At least, that’s the goal.”

  Cooper grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him. He gave me a long, slow kiss, backing me against the counter as he did.

  “You liar,” he said.

  “What?”

  “You brushed your teeth,” he said with a wink. “I knew you were out of breath.”

  “Yeah, well... it was our first date,” I grumbled. “I couldn’t have bad breath.”

  Just as the pancakes were getting done, there was a knock on the door. I went to answer it, pulling the blanket around my shoulders like a shawl. On the other side of the door stood Matt.

  “Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t come over, but...”

  “You’ve got company, I know,” Matt said. “I was actually looking for Cooper.”

  “Well, look at that,” I said, backing away. “Coop, you’ve got company.”

  Cooper appeared behind me, holding a coffee cup in hand. He went to put his arm around me, but I ducked away and returned to the kitchen, feeling a little too awkward flaunting our relationship this early in front of Matt.

  When Cooper returned, I raised my eyebrow. “What was that about?”

  “Ethel’s back at it,” Cooper said. “I turned my phone off this morning. The fire department has fielded thirteen phone calls from Mrs. Maybelle about her escaped patient.”

  “I see.” Then I frowned. “Wait a second, that means I need to get to set.”

  “Want a ride?” Cooper asked. “Seems like we’re going to the same place.”

  “You know, that sounds nice. I’ll be ready in seven minutes and eighteen seconds.”

  “Very specific.”

  “I have my morning routine down to a tee.”

  About ten minutes later, we were in Cooper’s car and driving to the set. Cooper reached over the center console and grabbed my hand in his, securing it in a firm grip as he drove.

  I glanced down, then looked up and out the window. But I couldn’t hide the smile on my face.

  “It’s nice,” Cooper said. “Waking up next to
you.”

  “With a huge crick in your neck?” I asked, shooting a grin in his direction. “I promise not all my sleepovers end that way.”

  “I’ll take any time with you I can get.”

  “I liked it, too,” I said softly. “I am sorry that I fell asleep on you, though. I didn’t mean for that to happen. It’s just that... you know, you have magical hands.”

  Cooper’s smile grew wider as my flush grew darker.

  “You know what I mean.”

  He just nodded. “Oh, I know.”

  “What’s your day look like?” I asked. “After you save Blueberry Lake from Ethel Louise Schroeder?”

  “It’s a sacrifice I make every day for this town,” Cooper said. “Attending to nursing home escapees. But aside from that, I’ve got a few leads to follow up on with the Tennison case. What about you?”

  “Me?” I tried to look extra innocent. “I’m working.”

  “Sure.”

  “I am,” I said. “That’s it.”

  “If you do happen to hear anything, call me. Don’t try to look into this mess by yourself. Whoever killed Tennison is still out there, and there’s a good chance you’re going to be dressing them today.”

  I did a big gulp. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “What scene are they shooting today?”

  “It’s this big party scene,” I said. “Everyone will be dressed up. So, yeah, I’ll be busy getting everyone into their clothes.”

  “Just be careful,” he said. “Keep an eye out, and if anything comes up—anything at all—I’m just a phone call away.”

  I leaned over as Cooper came to a stop. I pecked him on the cheek. “What if I just miss you and want to say hi?”

  He returned the kiss. “That definitely counts.”

  We parted ways. I noted that Matt was among the firefighters just arriving at the scene to help with the massive throng of extras. We’d taken Cooper’s truck instead of his squad car, so we’d had to sit in the same traffic as everyone else. But I hadn’t even noticed because I’d been too busy holding hands.

  “Did you have a nice night?” Cassidy asked as I entered the trailer. “Because according to Angela Dewey, you sure did.”

  “How the heck do you know Angela Dewey?” I dropped my purse on the chair. “You don’t even live here.”

  “Small town. Word gets around.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So?”

  “It’s not what you think,” I said. “He did stay over.”

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “That’s better than what I thought.”

  “But I drank three glasses of wine and fell asleep on him.”

  Cassidy cocked her head. “Not totally where I saw this conversation going.”

  “Yeah, me neither. But he sat there, all night, on the couch—stuck under my legs.”

  “Then he’s a keeper,” Cassidy said. “That’s pretty good.”

  “You’re telling me,” I said. “Now I feel like I can’t screw it up.”

  “You won’t. Just be yourself, and you’re golden. But can you talk and work? Emma Lou is coming in early today. She’s changed her mind on what she wants to wear to the party.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure. Nothing more to say,” I said, thumbing through the racks. “Any idea why she changed her mind?”

  Cassidy shook her head. “Like she’d tell me anything. I’m pretty sure she still thinks I’m a maid, and I do her makeup every day.”

  I was struck by Cassidy’s eye roll as she detailed Emma Lou’s ditziness. I found myself feeling skeptical, wondering if this was all part of an act. Was Emma Lou really responsible for her boyfriend’s—or ex-boyfriend’s—death? It seemed hard to pin the Hollywood blonde as a calculating murderer. Then again, she was an actress by trade. Possibly a better one than anyone gave her credit for.

  Speaking of the devil, in waltzed Emma Lou, just as I finished shoving a few things into place on the rack. I spun around and smiled, gesturing to the clothing.

  “Good morning, Emma,” I said. “I hear you’ve changed your mind on the dress we selected for the party scene. Shall we take a look through these?”

  Emma glanced at me, then looked toward the rack of clothes. She wore tight white shorts, fluffy pink flip-flops that were actually pretty adorable, and a cut-off white tank top. She looked like a Beverly Hills pinup girl.

  After a second of thumbing through the clothes, Emma turned to me. “Your clothes suck. Do you know where I can get a decent cup of coffee around here? Kiernan’s out of beans. Someone’s been stealing his.”

  Cassidy busied herself looking in her mirror.

  “I can help you out,” I said. “Why don’t we go for a stroll? I know where we can find coffee and clothes.”

  Chapter 18

  We found ourselves outside of June’s café where the line was long once again. Spillover from all the extras waiting to see if they were chosen to be on the set for the upcoming scene. There were only so many of the coveted spots available, and people of all sizes, heights, colors, and generations had turned out for their two seconds of fame.

  Emma and I entered the café. There was a delay as people jostled us around as we fought for a spot in line. Then someone gasped. There was a whisper, a finger point, and the coffee shop went silent.

  The room slowly seemed to part in two, allowing Emma and I access to the register without having to wait. I waved for the others who were in line ahead of us to go first, but Emma didn’t have the same idea. She stomped right up to the counter where June waited for her on the other side.

  “Hello, dear,” June said. “What can I get for you?”

  “Skinny vanilla wet cappuccino,” she said. “Please make sure you’re using nonfat milk. And I’ll take that extra hot.”

  “We have black coffee,” June offered. “It’s pretty hot.”

  “Definitely extra hot,” I encouraged.

  “And I can even give you a little creamer on the side, if that will do it for you,” June said with a smile. “Would you like a muffin with that?”

  Emma inhaled sharply as if June had cursed her. “I would not. I have to fit into my clothes for our shoot today.”

  I thought it prudent not to mention the fact that Emma hadn’t actually picked out any clothes because she thought all of the ones on set sucked. I also didn’t think that a muffin would bring her from a size two to a size four, but who was I to say with my size-eight jeans?

  “Oh, are you here for the extra role?” June asked kindly. “You’re very beautiful. I’m sure you’ll be a shoo-in. That Ethel Louise Schroeder, though, is quite determined. You might have to arm wrestle her for the job. Don’t let her oxygen tank fool you. She’s very strong.”

  I rested a hand on Emma’s shoulder before steam began popping out of her ears.

  “We’ll take two large coffees to go,” I said. “Add a little creamer, and put it on my tab, please. Thanks, June.”

  June gave a happy nod, then looked to the next customer in line as if nothing strange had happened at all. If Emma Lou weren’t so mortally offended, I would’ve laughed out loud. I settled for stifling my smile and accepting the two to-go coffees from one of the servers bustling to keep up.

  I ushered Emma Lou out of the restaurant and led her quickly down the street. We didn’t speak until we reached my mother’s shop. I did notice, however, that she’d been steadily drinking down her coffee, and not a complaint had passed her lips. Maybe, like me, she’d been transformed by June’s magic touch.

  “What is this place?” Emma wrinkled her nose. “It looks like my grandmother’s attic.”

  “You’re not actually all that far off,” I said. “But this one has some treasures in it. Come on.”

  “I told you all of those clothes sucked,” she said. “That means I want better clothes. Not used hand-me-downs.”

  “Look, I didn’t pick any of those clothes back there,” I said. “And if you want my honest opinion, they’re all safe, middle-of-the-road options
. Anyone can run into Target and get themselves a carbon copy of every single one of those outfits.”

  “I know. It’s stupid.”

  “As much as I love Target,” I said. “I think you’ve got a different personality. You need to stand out, and you don’t stand out by playing things safe.”

  She looked at me and raised the coffee cup to her lips. She took a sip and looked pensively over it at me. “I’m listening.”

  “I promise you that I’m going to find you unique, one-of-a-kind outfits,” I said. “Nobody’s going to be able to recreate exactly what you’re wearing. Do you trust me?”

  Emma Lou looked me up and down. It was a very good thing I’d gone with a cute romper that I’d picked up on a major sale from a boutique two towns over. It matched with my platform wedges, and I’d topped the whole thing off with a headband that had a sweet little bow on top.

  “You can trust me,” I encouraged. “I didn’t steer you wrong on the coffee, did I?”

  “Fine,” she said. “You’ve got an hour. Otherwise, I’m picking my own clothes from the stupid rack back on set.”

  “Deal.”

  We entered my mother’s shop. Both Allie and my mother froze at the sight of me. Or rather, the person next to me.

  “I thought you were working,” my mother said carefully. “What brings you in today?”

  “We’re doing a little shopping,” I said and clapped my hands. “Allie, please get Emma Lou set up in our finest fitting room. Mother, I need all the dresses and skirts pulled that you have in stock.”

  The three of us set to work. Emma Lou didn’t look impressed by our very average dressing room, but I ushered in a few outfits I knew she’d love right off the bat, and her complaints dampened by the second. Twenty minutes in, and we already had four keepers and a downright bubbly Emma Lou.

  “This A-line really sets off your collarbone,” I said. “You’re so dainty, and it just emphasizes all of your assets.”

  “I totally agree,” Emma Lou gushed. “And the ruching makes me look so freaking skinny. It’s like you made me lose ten pounds on the spot. Where’d you learn how to do this?”

  “You know, school, work. It is my job,” I reminded her. “I’m not exactly new to the business.”