Color Me Dead

by Constance Barker

  “The blood,” I said.

  “What about it?”

  “Did you check her room?”

  “I had nothing that would get a warrant.”

  “You said the killer couldn’t have kept from getting blood on them, on their clothing.”

  “Right.”

  “As I recall, Sylvia didn’t want you going to her room. The day after the murder, I mean. Remember, she was all shrieking and upset about what someone had done to her until you told her you wanted to check her room.”

  “And then, suddenly, she decided it was just a harmless prank.”

  “She didn’t want you to have an excuse to go into her room. What if she’d intended to make it appear that she was a victim of sabotage without actually having to have something go wrong with her equipment or do anything else that might diminish her chance of winning?”

  “Or her model.” James seemed to think we were onto something.

  “What about her model?”

  “When Sabrina confessed, one of the things we learned she’d done was poison two of the models. It wasn’t anything serious but it made them sick enough so they had to go home. Unfortunately for her plan, a lady from a modeling agency was right here and she called in replacements.”

  “Jessie Stearnes,” I said.

  He grinned. “Why do I ever think I’m going to be able to surprise you with facts?”

  Nellie chuckled. “So the motives we have for either of them would be their perception that Victoria was doing things to mess with their business plans?”

  “That’s it. That’s the only real motive we’ve got.”

  Nellie shook her head. “I don’t see it. Manus might have been in deep water financially and desperate, and Sylvia is ambitious and I don’t care for either of them that much, but I don’t see them as being willing to kill over that. If they knew Victoria was doing something specific, maybe, but this is all vague. You don’t kill because someone might be the person who screwed your business.”

  “It’s a complicated affair,” James said.

  “Yes it is, and…” I stopped and stared at him. It hit me like a bolt of lightening. I had the answer. “That’s exactly the clue we needed.”

  He laughed. “You’ve lost me. What do you mean?”

  “The complicated affair. The murder had nothing whatsoever to do with the competition or the show—not directly. We got so caught up in all Sabrina’s sabotage that it’s had us looking at the suspects from the perspective of what they gain or lose in terms of their businesses.”

  James didn’t get the point. “I know Victoria was unpleasant to people, but it makes more sense that the motive for killing her was money.”

  “But if it was personal? Intensely personal?”

  “Okay she wasn’t well liked, but…”

  “No. When you mentioned an affair an idea came to me. Actually a few ideas, thoughts, and memories suddenly coalesced. I think I know who did it. And the motive is tangled up in business, but it is distinctly personal.”

  James stared at me. “You know who did it? Of course you do.”

  Nellie grinned. “Lay it on us, girlfriend.”

  “I think it isn’t as complicated as we’ve been making it. In fact I think it’s very simple—and personal.”

  “What brought on this epiphany?”

  “The first day we arrived Victoria wanted to talk. Well, she wanted to brag, actually. She was, she said, incredibly happy.”

  “So someone wanted to dampen her happiness?”

  “That’s not exactly right. But they did want to end her simple, rather happy affair and right now.”

  “You know who the killer is, don’t you?”

  “I think I do.”

  “So tell me.”

  “I will, but I also have an idea.”

  “Which is?”

  “Wouldn’t it be more fun if we just let the killer confess?”

  “Is that likely?”

  “I have a pretty good idea that we can make that happen this very afternoon.”

  He smiled. “You do like making this investigation stuff into theater, don’t you?”

  “A small town girl has to get entertainment where she can.”

  “I suppose so.” Then he grinned. “But if you came to the city more often, maybe…

  He stopped talking when I hit his arm. Then frowned. “If police brutality is when a cop hits someone, what is it when the civilian hits the cop?”

  “If they are friends it is called justifiable mayhem.”

  “Good to know.”

  I told him who the killer was and how easy I thought it might be to get a confession.

  “A simple confrontation?” I nodded. “Let me track down our suspect and we will plan an intercept.”

  “I’ll wait for you here,” I said and then smiled at his look of surprise. “You didn’t think you got to do this alone did you? I mean, you can have the credit, but I get in on the confrontation.”

  “Fine.”

  # # #

  “I hope this works,” Nellie said as James went off to set things up. “It would be nice to know we are getting home today.”

  “If we don’t, we’ll be sleeping in the car. We’ve already checked out of the hotel.”

  “Waiting a bit works for me,” Pete said. “I know everyone wants to get back home, but it would be nice to find out who the murderer is.”

  “Speaking of motives,” Nellie said, “you aren’t usually the morbid type Pete. What’s your real motive for liking the idea of hanging around?”

  He blushed. “Business. I promised to talk to a couple of people before we leave.”

  “Hey, you are the champion,” Nellie said. “You need to hang around a bit, that’s fine.”

  “We sure aren’t leaving without you,” Leander said. He was joining us for the trip back.

  I was glad for the delay. “Besides, there is some unsettled business left.”

  “Right,” Nellie said. “Going home before Woodley catches his killer is like leaving the theater before you find out that Darth Vader is Luke Skywalker’s father. We aren’t leaving right away. So go do what you need to do and we will pack up.”

  “Thanks. And I can’t wait for that closing act either.” With a sneaky smile on his face Pete drifted across the chaos of the ballroom toward Manus’s booth.

  I watched as he walked up to a woman in an expensive business suit. They shook hands and began a conversation that shut out the world around them. After a time, Pete took her arm and steered her over to where Manus was standing and I realized he’d been waiting for them. Pete introduced the two and the three huddled in conversation. After a time, Manus handed the woman a pair of scissors and she turned them in her hand, examining them, as Pete talked her ear off.

  “Don’t that beat all,” Nellie said. “Pete seems to be dominating the conversation.”

  “Now that is unusual and highly suspect,” I agreed. “He is up to something.”

  Leander giggled and we turned on the poor man like a pack of wolves. “You know! You will tell us what he’s up to.” Betina said.

  “Or suffer the consequences,” Nellie said.

  “Okay, I’m outgunned here. The thing is that the woman is the vice president of marketing for one of the major high-end scissor manufacturers. Before you ask, I don’t know which one. She said but it meant nothing to me. After the announcement ceremony, she cornered Pete and offered him a deal. She wants to pay him to endorse their scissors.”

  “Hurrah, Pete,” Nellie said.

  “They had a long chat about the ins and outs of it all and then he told her that he would love to work with them to introduce a new model—the one Manus designed. He told her that he used them in the competition and thought they were great. She agreed to consider it.” He nodded to where the three were shaking hands. Manus put several pair of scissors in the woman’s hand and then gave more to Pete. “I’d say that she is interested.”

  When Pete came back he was smi
ling. “That seemed to go well,” I said.

  Pete looked at Leander. “You told them?”

  “We tortured him,” Nellie said. “He had no choice.”

  Pete smiled that boyish smile. “There is no deal yet, but she will take the scissors back to her people and get some more opinions. If they like them, they will pay Manus a license fee—some cash and a royalty.”

  “And you as their poster boy?” Nellie asked.

  “Well, the details aren’t at all clear, but they’d want to use my likeness and the fact that I won this contest to promote the scissors.” Then he mumbled something that sounded like product endorsements.

  “What?” I asked.

  Pete turned red. “And maybe pay me to endorse some other products if I like them. She asked if I could do some seminars for them too.”

  “Sounds like you might be part time at Teasen and Pleasen real soon,” I said. “I better stop bringing people to the city or I won’t have anyone left in the salon.”

  Suddenly I felt a little of Nellie’s wistfulness. Pete and Betina were being offered amazing opportunities that they’d never get staying in Knockemstiff. Nellie had been offered one too. I’d taken the role of observer, maybe mentor. Even if I didn’t have the talent that Pete did, there was something magical about the way doors opened if you were in the thick of things. There was an excitement about it all.

  “It’s a little scary,” Pete said.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “If you start doing these things, appearing in public, it changes life as you know it. I mean I’ve got people coming up to me with offers for things because I cut hair here instead of at home. And it isn’t just something I’ve got to deal with, either. Leander has been asked to play some gigs that might lead to other things. All of that can get out of control, and for those of us with roots in Knockemstiff, each choice feels like it’s about moving home for good, or letting ourselves be pulled a bit away.”

  “At least you see that now,” Nellie said.

  “And when two of you are making choices…” I said. His pain was too familiar to me.

  “It’s four times as hard. You grow up being urged to become someone, but then find that being that someone might actually make you lose a bit of who you were. I suppose that’s great if you hated yourself.”

  “Decisions are hard.”

  That was something we could all agree on.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I didn’t know Sylvia well, but I knew she had a temper. I’d expected her to have a short fuse—she seemed that sort. I wasn’t prepared for how short it was. When James came to get me, he was smiling.

  “You know something?”

  He laughed. “All I know is that our suspect is checking out of the hotel and I’m about to see a good show.”

  We caught her inside the lobby of the hotel, headed for the doors and her car. She wasn’t thrilled, but she was controlling herself. For the moment.

  “I need to speak to you,” James told her.

  “I have nothing to say,” she said.

  James didn’t much care. “That’s too bad because we have a lot of questions.”

  “I’m in a rush.”

  “Heading home?” he asked.

  “Yes. My husband is expecting me.”

  “Is that the man I saw at your station the other day?” I asked. “The snappy dresser in the expensive suit?”

  Suddenly we had her attention. “Yes, why?”

  “Because I’m thinking he might be the same man Victoria told me about.”

  “Victoria?”

  “She said she had a wonderful new lover, who was rich and married.”

  “Don’t be absurd!” Her scowl was as much one of anger as protest.

  “It isn’t absurd. He was tired of you spending your time with your expansion plans and Victoria was happy to have the attention. She’s the one who explained to him about the low profitability of salons. Of course her talking him out of investing more in your scheme wasn’t nearly as important as the idea that she was stealing your husband away. You already had lost a lot to her.”

  “He wouldn’t have anything to do with her.”

  It was a nice, flat, statement. And a lie if ever there was one.

  James gave her an embarrassed grin. “I’m afraid he disagrees with you. He has admitted the affair. It’s on the record. And he says that you knew about it. Apparently Victoria told you herself.”

  “Well so what?”

  With this turnabout, James had his opening. “The so what is that you murdered Victoria. You came from a meeting with potential backers, and learned that they had talked to your husband. He’s a prominent businessman and they wanted his input. You found out that he had double-crossed you and told them that he didn’t think the idea was viable. You knew where he got that idea. Victoria had taken him from you and used him against him. So when you saw Victoria go into the meeting room, you followed her. Manus told us that he gave you a set of the scissors that morning, so you had the weapon handy.”

  “That’s absurd!”

  “Or Victoria’s pair was sitting there and you used those. That’s why you didn’t want me to go to your room. I’ve done that now, by the way and you’ll have to explain the blood in your hotel room. Victoria’s blood, I’d guess. The lab results will be available soon.”

  That was when Sylvia reached the end of her fuse and exploded. I didn’t think of her as particularly creative, but the string of expletives she spouted was incredible.

  James ignored the outpouring of bile and signaled to an officer waiting in the wings who came over and handcuffed her—as calmly as it was possible to do with someone turning purple with anger and trying to scratch his eyes out. James muttered the usual statement about arresting her for the murder of… and you have the right to… and then had the uniformed officer haul her away.

  He looked at me, putting his hands on my arms. “I’ll be tied up the rest of the day doing the paperwork for this arrest.”

  “And I have to get the gang home.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

  “Long distance, all the way to Knockemstiff?”

  “Well, it seems like that’s where you like to be.”

  “It is.”

  And then, right there in the hotel lobby, James Woodley kissed me. Various people passing by smiled, and when James left, I saw Nellie grinning at me with her Cheshire Cat grin. Only she didn’t disappear. Not any of her. She never does.

  “So tell me, how are you enjoying my city so far?”

  I grinned at James. “Let’s see Victoria was murdered, a modeling agency is trying to steal Betina away from me, a salon in Atlanta wants to steal Nellie, and Pete is probably getting more job offers that he can imagine… not so great.”

  “But we caught the killer and the food is good, at least away from the hotel?”

  “Oh yes. That part is wonderful.”

  “And the music?”

  I sighed. “The music is grand.”

  “So, not a total negative?”

  “The present company makes it better too. No, not a total negative.”

  “We could bring Sarah to the city and see if she…”

  “You slow down!”

  He put up his hands stepped back. “Yes ma’am.”

  I took a breath. “We small town girls go a step at a time.” I saw a smile spread across his face. “And never mind what you might have heard about small town girls.”

  His eyes sparkled. “Whatever anyone might say or think about small town girls I figure you would be unique among them anyway.”

  “And well you should.”

  I was beginning to think that James Woodley was catching on to who I was. And I still didn’t know if that would make my life better or more complicated.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “You look oddly sad,” I told Nellie. “You don’t feel bad for Sylvia, do you?”

  “No. I’m suffering another bout of that city s
ickness,” she said. Then she grinned. “And it will be my last one. The truth is that I miss my boys and can’t wait to get home to them.”

  “We will be home for dinner. You do know the house will be a disaster area, assuming it’s still standing, don’t you?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I know. Isn’t that grand? I’ll get home, yell and freak out, slap them up the side of the head and then hug them all so damn tight they can’t breath.”

  “So the nostalgic thoughts about the getaway to the city that never happened have waned?”

  “I think you can say that.” She gave me that Nellie grin. “I used to think a lot about what I missed out on, things happening the way they did. But I’m starting to think that if I hadn’t gotten pregnant and needed to stay in Knockemstiff I would’ve come running back with my tail between my legs pretty quick anyway. Things are so artificial here. It’s not that the people are bad, but that there are just so many of them that they all start to have an affect on you. Their dramas affect your life whether you know them or not.”

  “It happens back home, but it isn’t so intense.”

  “And you seem to have a little more choice in who you let affect you.”

  “I suppose you might.”

  “And I notice that even you always call Knockemstiff ‘back home’ in a rather affectionate way.”

  I smiled. It was my turn to be whimsical. “I’m trying to work out what that means to me. Right now it is the place where all my friends are, as well as my work.”

  “It’s the loved ones part that is in question for you.” She said it firmly. It wasn’t a question.

  “That’s the very big question. One that won’t have an easy or quick answer if it ever has an answer at all.”

  “There are some questions that you have to answer over and over again,” she said.

  “When did you get so smart?”

  She shrugged. “An hour ago. Some fella sold me a handful of smart pills.”

  I looked at her. “Are you sure they weren’t suppositories?”