The Fashion Police (Amber Fox Mystery No 1)

by Sibel Hodge

  ‘We can’t afford a new one yet. My husband lost his job again. Lazy, good-for-nothing. He’s not working anywhere now,’ she wailed and went into rocking overdrive. ‘Anyway, this one’s got a guarantee.’

  I stood there, staring at the stupid machine, frowning and scratching my head, while I prayed to the white goods repair fairies to perform a miracle. The chair squeaking got louder, turning into a grinding sound as Mrs. Clark rocked harder and harder.

  ‘Do something.’ The repair man said to me, wiping away the sweat pouring down his forehead.

  I kicked the machine.

  The repair man slapped a hand over his mouth.

  ‘This sometimes works when my dishwasher gets stuck,’ I said, and gave it another kick.

  ‘You’re going to get us killed.’ The repair man looked at me like I’d suddenly sprouted another head.

  I shrugged and kicked it a third time for luck. ‘Best of three.’

  That’s about the time when three things happened at once. Tia stumbled through the kitchen door, Mrs. Clark’s chair collapsed, and she fell in a heap onto the floor, and the washing machine sprang to life.

  The gun skidded across the floor, landing at my feet. I snatched it up as Tia’s hands flew to her cheeks.

  ‘Holy Crap!’ Tia said.

  The washing machine repair man fainted, landing on the floor with a loud whack, and Mrs. Clark sat in a stunned heap on the floor.

  Half an hour later, after a couple of stiff brandies all around, Mrs. Clark frantically stuffed dirty laundry into the machine, the repair man sat at the kitchen table with an ice pack pressed to the side of his head, and Tia and I helped tidy up the kitchen.

  ‘You’re going to be blacklisted on the customer service list for this,’ the repair man said to Mrs. Clark.

  I glared at him again. ‘Can’t you see the poor woman’s at the end of her tether?’

  ‘She held me hostage! I could’ve been shot.’

  ‘Don’t be such a wimp.’ I looked at the gun. ‘This thing is too old to be fired anyway.’ I pulled the trigger to prove my point and accidentally fired a bullet through the kitchen window.

  ‘Double holy crap!’ Tia gasped.

  ‘Fuck,’ the repair man screamed. Without further adieu, he scrambled to his feet and disappeared out the door.

  ‘Uh-oh,’ I said, grabbing hold of Tia’s arm and dragging her back to the Lemon just in time to see the repair man wheel spinning up the road in his van.

  ‘Wow! That was fun. Where are we going next?’ Tia said.

  ‘We’re not going anywhere. I’m taking you back to your apartment, and I’ve got a date with Mr. Merlot.’

  ****

  I returned home on a mission to get absolutely plastered. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t say hi to Marmalade, I couldn’t even stomach food. I was numb to the core.

  I dragged myself into the kitchen, poured a huge glass of Merlot, and gulped away on the fruity liquid. After the first glass, I leaned back on the worktop, staring dumbly at the terracotta walls. They stared back at me until the light faded completely. I blinked, realizing that I stood in the dark, and someone had mysteriously demolished the whole bottle of wine. I chucked it in the bin and opened another.

  At some point, someone banged on the door, and I nearly knocked over the bottle in my surprise. I ignored whoever was at the door, opting to carry on with my alcohol spree instead. Releasing a deep sigh, I realized that I felt like a complete and utter failure – and a frizzy-haired failure, at that – as thoughts about my two near-death experiences flitted around in my head. Once in a day I could probably handle. But two? That just about tipped me over the edge. I knew I’d probably be fine about it in the morning. I’d probably even laugh about it in a few weeks, but for now, for just a few hours, I wanted to savor the experience of knowing that I’d survived two gun-wielding maniacs. Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly fair to tar Mrs. Clark with the same brush as the Goon Girls. Mrs. Clark wasn’t a maniac. She was more on the brink of a nervous midlife episode. However, in my euphoric survival daydream mode, she was still a gun-wielder. And even scarier was the fact that maybe Mrs. Clark and I weren’t all that different. We’d both aimed a gun at someone; the only difference was that I’d used mine.

  The knocking stopped just before my mobile rang. I snuck a quick look at the caller ID and froze mid-glug. The last person I wanted to talk to while thinking euphoric thoughts was Brad. I’d heard that people who had near-death experiences did weird things to celebrate being alive. Things like taking risks that they knew they really shouldn’t take, things to tempt fate, things like sleeping with people they really shouldn’t sleep with.

  In the end, the decision was taken out of my hands. Brad used his open sesame tool to pick my lock again, and the next thing I knew, I’d thrown my arms around his neck and buried my head in his shoulder, breathing in musky pheromones. Brad’s strong arms held on to me tightly as he pressed his lips to the top of my head, muttering my name over and over again.

  ‘Hey, who turned the lights out?’ I slurred in a drunken whisper and succumbed to a mushy-around-the-edges feeling as my eyelids drooped shut.

  I’m not sure how long we stood like that because the next thing I knew, I was waking up the following morning in bed, completely naked.

  ‘Agh!’ I shrieked as Brad strolled into the room and placed a cup of coffee on my bedside table.

  ‘That’s a nice welcome.’

  I sat up, clutching the duvet around me, gawking at him.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before.’ He grinned.

  ‘How recently?’ I said when I managed to close my mouth again.

  ‘You don’t remember?’

  Oh, hell. I stared at him. ‘Er…what exactly happened last night?’

  ‘You cried.’

  I felt a hot glow crawling up my neck to my cheeks. ‘Then what?’

  ‘You told me about your meeting with Janice Skipper. Then you mumbled something about how you didn’t want your relationships to get stuck in a rut like Mrs. Clark because you might end up shooting someone again.’

  ‘Then what?’ I turned my head to avoid his gaze.

  ‘You mumbled something about wanting to do the nasty thing with me to celebrate being alive.’

  The hot glow turned into a tidal wave of shame. ‘And then what?’

  ‘Let’s just say that it was a very memorable night.’ He gave me a knowing half-smile and tucked a stray curl behind my ear. His fingers were warm against my cheek.

  ‘Can you do me a favor?’

  ‘Name your pleasure.’

  Uh-oh, nipple arousal alert coming up!

  I sucked in a breath and squeezed my thighs together. ‘Can you leave so I can get dressed please,’ I said, but what I really wanted was to reach out and smother him with kisses, run my hands all over his hard, toned body, and tangle my fingertips in his chest hair.

  He gazed at me long and hard. Then he winked at me and left.

  What was wrong with me if I couldn’t even remember what happened the night before? I lifted up the duvet a smidgen, checking underneath for any signs of naughtiness. No, apart from my trembling thighs, everything looked the same as it had last night, but that didn’t mean anything, did it? I flopped back on the pillows and squeezed my eyes shut. How could I even contemplate doing the nasty with Brad when I was involved with Romeo? Oh, God. I was a horrible, horrible person. And a horrible person who now had to carry around a guilty secret, to boot. Or maybe it didn’t count if you did something that you really couldn’t remember. Kind of like a temporary insanity plea or an amnesia-induced coma.

  Er, hello. Earth to Amber! Of course it counts. Maybe I needed to go and buy a chastity belt.

  ‘Damn!’ I shouted, thumping the bed with both fists. I carried on for a while, adding a few choice swear words, until Marmalade jumped on me, blinking at me with his huge green eyes.

  I picked him up. ‘What would you do of you were me? Would you tell Mrs. Marmalade
that you cheated on her?’

  Marmalade jumped out of my grasp, rolled on his back, and stretched. I envied him. How nice it would be to have his life –– sleeping all day, and then strutting around the neighborhood looking for a different pussy every night, with no strings attached and no complications. Yes, I knew what Marmalade would do. He’d keep quiet. He was a lover not a fighter.

  I sank my head into my hands, tugging at my roots. Oh, come on, Amber! It’s not like you committed mass murder or anything. These things happen. It was only a teensy-weensy indiscretion.

  Yeah, right. You just slept with your ex and betrayed your wonderful boyfriend. And you would’ve enjoyed it, too.

  Fortunately, the sound of my mobile ringing tore me away from my thoughts of doubt and self-loathing.

  ‘Hi, sleepy head.’ Tia giggled down the phone. ‘Guess what?’

  ‘You think you did something you shouldn’t have last night, and you don’t know how to tell the person you think you might have cheated on, but then you don’t know if you really did the thing that you think you did, so should you tell them anyway?’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘Never mind.’ Even I was confused. ‘I give up.’

  ‘I’ve found the yellow sheep.’ Her heavy breathing sounded down the phone.

  I jumped out of bed. ‘What?’

  ‘I know, it’s awesome, isn’t it? See, I told you I was psychic.’

  ‘Where is the yellow sheep?’

  ‘Well, I started looking around at the warehouse you were staring at when I met you, and–’

  ‘Hang on a minute. That warehouse isn’t anything to do with the investigation into your dad’s disappearance.’

  ‘Oh, well. I found something anyway. I’m down there now.’

  ‘Wait in the woods. I’ll see you in ten minutes. And be careful.’

  After I’d raced to get dressed in record time, I actually made it there in nine minutes.

  ‘What have you found?’ I asked Tia as we approached the Cohens’ warehouse, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of scumbags. The place was quiet, almost too quiet, and it seemed deserted. The windows had been blacked out, too.

  ‘Look.’ Tia pointed to a faded sign, dumped at the side of the warehouse. ‘It says Golden Fleece Shipping.’

  ‘Golden Fleece, as in a yellow sheep.’

  ‘Exactly.’ She grinned at me.

  ‘Samantha’s warehouse is next door.’ I nodded my head toward it.

  ‘Can we look inside it, just to make sure Dad’s not there?’

  ‘I’ve already checked.’

  She tugged on my arm, pulling me toward Samantha’s warehouse. ‘Please.’

  ‘OK.’ I picked the lock again, and we went inside. Everything was exactly as I’d left it on Sunday. ‘See, I told you,’ I said as we came out.

  She tried to blink away the tears that were filling up behind her eyelids, but it was too late. They snaked down her cheeks, and she threw herself forward, sobbing on my shoulder. Real, shoulder-shaking sobs that rippled through her. I patted her back and waited until the sobs turned to hiccups, then sniffles, finally subsiding into a shudder.

  ‘Sorry…about…that,’ she said through deep breaths and a blocked nose. ‘I just don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.’

  ‘You’ve got nothing to apologize for.’

  ‘So, what are we going to do now?’

  ‘I need to look in here.’ I walked back to the Cohens’ warehouse and pressed my face against the blacked out glass, cupping my hands above my eyes to block out the light. I squinted, and through the ebony darkness I could just about make out…nothing. The warehouse contained nothing at all. It had already been cleared out. The Cohens must’ve shipped out their batch of stolen cars already.

  I quickly dialed Romeo’s number, but my call went straight to voicemail. I left a message to let him know. At least I’d done my bit for the good, tax paying citizens.

  ‘I want to get inside and poke around,’ I said to Tia, pulling the lock pick out of my rucksack again and fiddling around in the lock. Damn, the door wouldn’t budge. ‘Do a spell.’ I looked at Tia.

  ‘It doesn’t work like that.’

  ‘Well, what’s the use of magic spells if you can’t get them do what you want?’ I rattled the door back and forth as I jiggled the pointy tool in the lock again. Finally, it gave way and opened. ‘See, who needs magic when you have wonderful little gadgets like this.’

  We blew in through the door with a sudden gust of wind. The door slammed shut behind us with a loud crack, making us flinch. I patted my thumping ribcage and crept forward with Tia bringing up the rear. A lovely bouquet of engine oil gave me a high as soon as I walked in. Tia pinched her nose shut.

  I assumed that the layout inside would be the same as Samantha’s, so I slid my hand up and down on the wall where I thought the light switch might be.

  ‘Urgh!’ I didn’t know what was on that wall, but it felt like a sticky oil slick. It was the same underfoot as well. I seriously hoped I wasn’t going to ruin another pair of sneakers as my feet stuck to the floor. What had they been doing in here, having oil wrestling fights?

  I flicked the light switch, but it didn’t work. It was no use trying the crappy torch that Dad gave me since that didn’t seem to work either. ‘I’ve got a lighter in here somewhere,’ I said, rooting around in my rucksack, hoping that it hadn’t been sucked into the usual giant abyss that lay at the bottom of my bags. ‘Let there be light.’ I held up the lighter in front of us.

  ‘Look!’ Tia pointed to an oil lamp on a shelf above our heads.

  I lit the lamp and shone it around. I didn’t really need to go any further to see that the place was empty, apart from a thick coating of oil on the floor.

  As we turned to leave, I felt something heavy land in my hair.

  ‘Agh! Giant spider! Giant fucking spider!’ I frantically shook my head upside down, dropping the oil lamp in the process.

  All the blood drained to my feet as I heard a whoosh, and a sea of blue flames gushed across the floor.

  I couldn’t move. We stood in frozen horror, watching the flames lick up the walls.

  Somehow, my built in survival mode took over. I sprinted to the front door like a rabid Rottweiler. Tia screamed, jumping up and down behind me.

  I tugged on the door handle. It wouldn’t budge. I gave another hard pull, and the handle came off in my hand.

  I stared at the handle. OK, don’t panic. Panicking will get you killed.

  I tried to stop my legs shaking. I sucked in deep breaths. I smelled the smoke. SMOKE!

  Too late! PANIC!

  ‘Holy crap. What are we gonna do? Help, Daddy,’ Tia wailed, then her jaw went slack.

  When the smoke began to burn my lungs and sting my eyes, I knew we were in the poop, big-time. ‘Follow me.’ I scrambled up the stairs two at a time.

  We ran to the offices on the next floor. I slid open the wooden window sash, looking down. This was not looking good. We were about ten meters above the ground. Ten meters!

  Huge dilemma. We could become char-grilled steaks at our own little barbeque party, or we could launch ourselves out the window and be squished on the concrete. I gulped back a scream of terror.

  ‘What now?’ Tia shrieked, her eyes about to pop out of her head.

  ‘We’re toast.’ I swallowed hard, trying to bring some moisture back to my parched throat.

  Tia pressed her hands to her ears. ‘I didn’t hear that.’

  ‘The skip!’ I suddenly remembered, running to the window on the other side of the building, which overlooked the slip road. I yanked on the window catch as I felt the heat seeping into the soles of my shoes. The bloody thing wouldn’t budge. ‘Some idiot’s painted over the frame. It’s sealed shut.’

  Tia grabbed the bottom of one side of the window and pushed while I carried on desperately trying to push up the other. They say in times of emergency that people develop superhero powers. I don’t know if I suddenly turned
into the Bionic woman, or whether we just managed to loosen the surrounding paint with our tugging, but the window suddenly flew upwards.

  I peered down. The skip was still in place. ‘You go first.’

  ‘No, you go first,’ Tia said with a nervous shake of her head.

  ‘OK, we’ll go together.’

  We both straddled the window ledge, swinging our legs over in synchronization. I grabbed hold of Tia’s hand, and we jumped.

  Little white stars exploded behind my eyeballs when I landed on top of the mountain of cardboard with a thud. I lay there, half on my back and half on my side, waiting for my breath to return to make sure that I was still alive.

  I rolled my head toward Tia, struggling for words. ‘Ughf,’ was all I could manage to croak out in a low, gravelly voice.

  Tia seemed to have fared better than me. She sat up in the skip with no effort at all and twisted around to face me. ‘That was awesome! I’ve always wanted to jump out of a plane, but that was great. Hey, maybe that spell going wrong was a premonition.’

  ‘Ughf.’

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘I don’t know. Am I still alive?’ I felt all my limbs to make sure they were still there and not sticking out at any peculiar angles. Yep, all present and correctly placed. A bit tender, mind you, but nothing major seemed to have happened to them. I tried to sit up. It took me a few goes before my body caught up with my brain. When I was completely satisfied that I was still in the land of the living, I shoved my hair out of my eyes and scrambled out of the skip on wobbly legs. Tia jumped out, looking like she’d just had a quick stroll in the park.

  We moved back to the spot where I’d been watching the warehouse all those nights and stared down at the towering inferno as I called the fire brigade. Choking black smoke billowed out through the open window, drifting into the sky and turning it a charcoal color.

  ‘Please tell me that the spider’s gone,’ I said, feeling nauseous.

  ‘It wasn’t a spider, it was a bat.’