Love Stinks

by Jeffrey Marks

  "All right. I've heard enough." Marissa's words came out so loud that an elderly couple at the next table turned to look at her. "You're giving me a headache."

  Ellen picked up her cigarette again. "You're still shaken up about the attack, aren't you? I would think it would've scared you off detective work for good. You must be getting close to scare the murderer into making a move. You need to be more careful."

  Marissa folded her arms across her chest. "It hasn't. I'm more determined to find this person so I can feel safe again. So who do you think did it?"

  "I don't know." Ellen smiled. "There are some people around the store who think you're guilty."

  "Me? How could they say that? I didn't even know the jerk. Do they think that I attacked myself as well?" Marissa's face grew redder as she spoke.

  "Marisser, I hate to say this, but you have been a little manic lately. Zack was pretty pissed about you transferring here after the wedding dress incident, and rumor has it that you paid someone in bridal to show Dan and his new fiancée’s registry as all bought out."

  "You'd be mad if your ex-husband brought the woman he left you for into your place of business and proceeded to plan their wedding. My boss did the registry trick. She did it to her ex- when he came in the store to register." Marissa brushed the hair from her watery green eyes.

  Ellen stubbed out her cigarette and reached in her purse to offer Marissa a tissue. "I realize that, but I think that you could have handled the situation a little — a little more maturely. Adam was sure that you had killed Steve Douglas, because he looked at you wrong or something. Adam's intimidated by you."

  "This whole wedding thing has just brought up all the emotions I went through with the divorce. I thought it was behind me, but I was wrong. I can't imagine what it'll be like by February when they actually get married. When you add the stress of starting a new job and trying to manage the Christmas rush, it's trying. Not to even mention raising a son on my own and trying to get by on the measly salary I get here." She dabbed at her eyes and set the tissue down. Even Ellen's tissues smelled like smoke.

  "Is that why you've been so hard on Gavin? He really likes you."

  Marissa groaned. " I barely know him. I've only had a few conversations with him, and the whole store thinks we're an item. To be honest, I'm scared about getting involved again. I want to go very slowly if there is a next time."

  "The whole store, as you put it, only wants what's best for you. They see that you're upset and want to see you happy again."

  "Gavin Tish will never be the answer to all my problems."

  "You could give him a chance. We —" Ellen stopped suddenly and looked down in her purse.

  "What is it?" Marissa craned over the table to look in Ellen's lap. The purse was open and the contents looked normal; a wallet, some tissues, and keys.

  Ellen gulped air and looked up. "Nothing."

  "Ellen, you were going to say something, and then you stopped. Was it about the murder?"

  "No. Change the subject. Why can't we discuss things like normal women?"

  "Like what? We're not dating anyone, so we can't complain about men. I think that Zack killed Steve Douglas." Marissa tried to focus, still wanting to know what Ellen was hiding. Could it be related to the murder?

  "Well, don't go saying that too loud. Someone might hear you." Ellen pulled another cigarette from her purse and lit up. "Marissa, are you going to beat this to death? Just because he smokes and has a motive doesn't mean that he killed anyone. I can think of ten other people who could have killed Steve. How about Nicole, her brother, Mr. Grayson, Sam Munson, me?"

  Marissa turned around, watching her friend's face. What was Ellen hiding? What had come over her? "Don't be silly. It couldn't have been you. A man attacked me. I would have recognized you. And what's this about Nicole's brother?"

  "He was bothering Steve the day of the murder. He had some screenplay he wanted read. Steve told him to get lost, but Nick kept coming around. Then he left his office when Bandarra showed up to ask questions. It just looked suspicious."

  "Does he smoke?" Marissa leaned closer to listen to her friend's story.

  "Your attack was only linked to the murder by the smell of smoke and cheap cologne on the man. Millions of people smoke, and they aren't killers."

  Marissa pulled the cigarette from Ellen hand and held it at arm's length, smiling. "Well, there is second-hand smoke."

  Chapter 18

  Marissa walked back to her department in silence, taking in all that Ellen had told her. She still wasn’t satisfied. Something in the tilt of Ellen’s head or the way that her eyes dropped to the table every time Marissa looked her way suggested that Ellen was holding out on her. Ellen knew something or suspected something more. Marissa had no idea what Ellen knew or if it was relevant to the case, but she did know more.

  The cosmetics area was nearly empty by the time she came back, expected at 2pm when lunch shoppers had hurried back to work, and the after school crowd was another hours from descending on the mall. Time to do some paperwork and see what else needed to be done. She needed the job, even more so now that Steve had died here. Marissa didn’t want cosmetics to be known as the department where stars come to die.

  Nicole breezed past her, walking quickly to another counter in the department. The girl carried a few file folders and a small box of perfume. She seemed to be making her way to unseen customers, but Marissa decided to merely observe. What could the girl be doing that was so urgent?

  Nicole looked around again, and not seeing Marissa, who had stepped back a few steps behind the display of make-up kits gaily wrapped with big red bows, she slid the folders under the stock inside the cabinet. She dusted off her slacks and headed back to another counter. Marissa knew the counter without a second glance. It was one of the slower moving scents, away from the main entrance, the impulse buys and last minute shoppers. It might be a month or more until the boxes would be empty and the folders discovered. Marissa wondered if the papers were related to the stock that Raymond West had taken and later returned.

  Walking casually to the counter, Marissa stooped down and pulled out the folders. Just as quickly as Nicole had, she marched off in the opposite direction, but heading off to her office where she could study the papers in piece.

  She took a deep breath as she sat down in her metal desk, adjusting her seat for comfort. The stack of papers was thick and smelled slightly of some sort of alcohol. Marissa crinkled up her nose and turned the page. It was a title page with “The Uninvited Guest by Nicholas Wilson” typed across it. A screenplay. This must be the work that Nicole’s brother, Nick, had been trying to get Steve Douglas to read.

  She turned another page and read the transitional instructions. Marissa stopped reading and closed the folder. No wonder Nicole had wanted to hide this. The screenplay started in a department store and its opening scenes played remarkably like the day that Steve had been in the store.

  Marissa knew that she’d need to read the entire screenplay before turning it over to the police. She checked her watch. It was 2:15 now. The after-school rush would start soon, and then she’d be swamped until 8pm between work and Josh. She didn’t want a repeat of the episode with Steve’s jacket.

  Marissa calmly walked through the cosmetics area, took the escalators to the next floor, and went to the copier in the administrative office. One of the joys of a new building was that the copier wasn’t 10 years old and in need of constant repair. She fed the stack of papers into the copier and had returned to her office in less than five minutes. The copy went into her purse, and the originals went back into the folder. Marissa walked out to the counter and stooped over to return the folders when she heard a voice behind her. “Oh, Mrs. Scott. Please don’t do that. You don’t know what trouble it will start if you show that to the police.”

  She didn’t need to stand up to recognize the voice, but she stood up slowly, folder still in hand. Nicole’s eyes are doe-like and wide, looking nearly as large as
ornaments. “If you don’t want people to look at it, then put it somewhere safe –and personal. I don’t want any more investigations or inquires or police here. Enough is enough.”

  “It belongs to my brother, and he didn’t want to keep it at his place. The police have been very suspicious. He’s afraid they’re going to get a search warrant and look for evidence.”

  “Is there any?” Marissa was interested now. Nicole had never managed to put together two coherent, much less interesting, statements since the mall opened, and now she had information on an open murder case.

  “No! I mean, I don’t think so.” Nicole took a deep breath. “Nick is the nicest guy in the whole wide world. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  Marissa rolled her eyes, in her best imitation of a high school student. “Please. Are you going to tell me that nothing would set him off?”

  Nicole swallowed loud enough for others to hear her. “Well, I don’t think so. He’s normally very quiet and very polite, but if someone makes fun of him, he gets mad, I mean like real mad.”

  Marissa saw the face of the actor again, leering and sneering as he had done before his untimely death. She could easily imagine Steve’s response to an amateur screenplay. He’d angered her, and she was used to dealing with customers all day. A sensitive person with a temper would be like throwing a match on the Riverfest fireworks. “Didn’t you ask him what happened?”

  “Of course I did, but we were interrupted. He stopped by here and dropped off the screenplay. He didn’t want the police to find it, and he said he’d be gone for a few days. I didn’t ask him, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. Sometimes ignorance can make you happier.”

  Marissa sighed. She had a new admiration for the police when suspects behaved worse than mall customers. Bright lights and rubber hoses could help around here at Christmas. “So what did your brother tell you exactly? Try to quote him.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes up into her head. Marissa assumed that this was her way of concentrating and didn’t speak. “He came by Kantor’s. He had a backpack on and was carrying this.” She held up the folder.

  “Okay, so what did he have to say about the folder?”

  “He said that it could get him in big trouble, and he couldn’t be seen with it after what happened the day Steve Douglas was killed.”

  “He said ‘killed’?” Marissa thought of the copy in her purse and praised new copy machines again. It had to be a time bomb.

  Nicole drummed a finger on the folder. “No, he said ‘died.’”

  Marissa nodded. “Go on. What did he say next?”

  “He said that he’d caught Steve coming out of the banquet room. I’d texted Nick and told him where Steve was.”

  Marissa tried to check the time by letting her arms drop to her sides and craning her neck to one side. The after school crowd would be here shortly. “What happened after that? What did Steve say about the screenplay?”

  Nicole shook her head. “He didn’t. Nick didn’t even get far enough into the introduction before Steve laughed at him. He said that he didn’t review unagented manuscripts, and he didn’t have time to read what would be a box office stinker. He actually used the word ‘stinker.’ I was surprised about that, because it doesn’t sound like something Hollywood.”

  “So what did Nick do?”

  Nicole sighed and shrugged. “That’s where we were interrupted. I don’t know what happened. Steve came downstairs, and Nick left. I don’t know if he could have poisoned him or not.”

  Marissa bit her lip and pondered the discussion. Unless Nick had come prepared with a nicotine solution, he couldn’t have possibly made up the solution and come back to poison Steve in the time before Steve died. It didn’t fit. This crime was too premeditated to fit. If Steve had taken Nick’s screenplay, then there would be no reason to poison him.

  “You still need to tell the police. If they find out and then learn that –“

  Marissa heard a voice behind her. “Tell the police what? Are you hiding something again?” She knew that voice and her Christmas cheer evaporated.

  “Sergeant Bandarra, we were just getting ready to call you.” She looked at Nicole, whose eyes had widened again.

  “I bet. What is it this time?”

  “You’d been asking some questions about Nick Wilson. He’d asked his sister, Nicole, to watch after a screenplay that he’d offered to Steve Douglas. I thought perhaps you’d want to see it.” Marissa gently pried the folder out of Nicole’s hands and handed it over to the officer. Gavin didn’t seem to be anywhere around, and Marissa felt relief at the thought. She furrowed her brow, thinking that perhaps this was the best indicator of how she felt. No pressure and no men.

  Bandarra flipped through the pages, turning too fast to read what was written. He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and barked out a few commands. From what Marissa overheard, he wanted Nick picked up and brought in for questioning. He’d become more than a person of interest. He’d become the last person to see Steve Douglas alive, although only one of many with a motive.

  Before she could say a word, Nicole had burst into tears and run from the department. Marissa knew that the girl wore flats, and she stood no chance against the girl’s youth or footwear. She’d just have to try to think like Nicole and decide where she would hide in a time of turmoil.

  Chapter 19

  Marissa had just put the phone down for the second time, trying to page Nicole to her office. Either the girl was not responding or had left the building. For the girl’s sake, Marissa hoped she hadn’t left the building. Kantor’s would be all about docking her pay if she’d gone, and Nicole would every penny to mount a defense for her brother.

  She turned and gave a small start. Gavin stood in the doorway, watching her. She hadn’t heard him enter the area and hadn’t even noticed his cologne in the small space. She couldn’t get too focused on the murder case to let her guard down. Other things were at stake here too.

  She drew a deep breath, tried to center herself and asked, “Can I help you?”

  Gavin took a few steps into the room and then stopped. His tentative move only served to block Marissa from moving around him. She wasn’t sure if this was his intent or if he’d lost his nerve to move towards her.

  “I wanted to talk – if you have a minute.”

  “Barely. Your sergeant took Nick Wilson into custody, and Nicole is missing now. I want to find her and help her do what’s right here.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Get a lawyer, talk to the news, help her brother.” Marissa shrugged. Now that she heard the words, the futility of the efforts started to sink in. What could one woman do against the Hamilton County police?

  “What if he’s guilty?” Gavin asked, trying not to meet her gaze. He was being very evasive. Marissa tried to determine the reasons why; there were always more than one reason. However, she realized that she didn’t know him all that well.

  “Then the legal system will sort that out. I just need to calm her down and get her back to work. If not, then I need to call in another person and explain to management why I had to pay overtime to someone.”

  “So it’s nothing personal?” He looked up and his eyes sparkled a little, like the twinkling lights in the displays in her area.

  “Not really, other than it’s one more thing that I don’t really need right now. So what did you want? Are you just checking to see about the work you’re causing around here?”

  Gavin flushed a little, bringing his complexion in line with the holiday. “Actually, I wanted to know if you’d go out to dinner sometime. I can’t really date a witness, but the case appears to be about over. After that, well, I thought that we could grab a bite to eat sometime.”

  Marissa gave him a hard look. “Are you sure that you want to try this at this time of year? What if we get along? You’ll have to buy me a present, and you won’t know how much to spend or what to buy. You can’t buy jewelry or clothes, but you have to buy somet
hing. Then there are the holiday meals, invite her or not invite her. It’s all a bit much.”

  He hung his head for a second, and Marissa saw those cute little ears again. They looked sad, if that was somehow possible. She thought back to her last date; what had that been, six month ago? She ranked it as a disaster, because she’d expected too much. She’d wanted the closeness that comes from getting to know someone, but he’d only seen her as a sure thing. At least Gavin wouldn’t see her that way, she hoped. He’d seen her brain in action.

  “So if I said yes, you realize that there’s still a big problem.”

  Gavin looked up. “Christmas still or something else?”

  “The murder case. Nick didn’t do it.”

  Gavin trained his eyes on her and openly stared. No demure looks now. “You can’t know that.”

  “I do know it. This was a premeditated crime. Someone had to know that Steve was coming here, soak the cigarettes, prepare the liquid and administer it somehow without being noticed. Nick Wilson isn’t that man. He came to the store to get an endorsement. Unless he knew that his screenplay stunk bad and from what Nicole said, he didn’t, then it makes no sense for him to come prepared to kill Steve Douglas.”

  Gavin pulled out his notebook and scribbled down a few things. “It’s all about the screenplay then?”

  “What else would it have been?”

  Gavin sighed and pushed the notebook back into his pocket. “Maybe threatening Douglas for seducing Nicole. Douglas had a few letters back in LA from families of women he’d slept with on this tour. Someone’s going to have to follow up and tell these girls to get tested, but that won’t be my job, and I’m damned glad about that.”

  “Does Brenda have any brothers? Have you asked about that?”