Dirty Sexy Murder

by Cathleen Ross

  “A short back and sides.” Lizzie giggled.

  “Yup.” Marina smiled.

  “I can’t believe you’re such a fraud. A Brazilian virgin,” Lizzie muttered shaking her head, her blue eyes blinking in amazement. Marina laughed, glad to feel her tension dissolve. If there was menace in the air, she didn’t feel it anymore. It had gone. It was good to laugh, which she always did when she spent time with Lizzie. “Okay. Time to get started. Do you want hot wax or strip?

  “I think hot wax is better on coarse hair even though I’m soft and silky,” Lizzie purred. “Strip is better for legs and arms. I always use the hot wax when I do myself.”

  “Best choice,” said Marina setting the strips aside and getting down to business. “Do you prep with tea-tree oil?”

  Lizzie shook her head.

  Marina put some tea-tree oil into some cotton wool and dabbed it over Lizzie’s pubic area. “I always do my clients. It’s more hygienic. Some waxers use moisturizer then oil, so you don’t take the skin off with the hair, others use powder. It’s up to you.”

  “I usually don’t bother with tea-tree myself, but I’ll try it your way on you.”

  Marina’s mouth turned down. “Can’t wait.”

  Marina finished prepping Lizzie with the tea-tree oil, reached over to her workbench and picked up a tub of baby powder. “The next thing I do is sprinkle this over the area and blot it with a towel because some women don’t like me to touch them.”

  “The first time I waxed myself I didn’t use powder.” Lizzie grimaced. “I couldn’t wear jeans for a week. Mind you, I didn’t even hold the skin taut. I was bruised black and blue.”

  “Ouch,” Marina said. She spread the hot wax either side of Lizzie’s fairy floss and pulled. Then she worked between Lizzie’s legs, smoothing the hot wax, testing it with her fingernails and pulling it off. Lizzie, who was used to the procedure, didn’t flinch.

  “How do you get to the back when you do yourself?” Marina asked, who couldn’t imagine waxing her own asshole.

  “With great difficulty. I get on my hands and knees, reach under myself and pull off the wax. Lucky I don’t have much hair there.”

  Marina shook her head. “I don’t know how you do it.” Although she did the procedure day in day out, Marina couldn’t bear to think about letting someone wax her butt, and even though Lizzie was her best friend, she was going to ask her to miss that part.

  “The first time I put hot wax on my butt cheeks, I used too much and they stuck together before I could get the wax off. I was in agony trying to pull it off. I stayed in my bedroom for an hour screaming and rolling around the floor. James kept asking me what the matter was, but I couldn’t tell him.”

  Marina laughed until tears formed in her eyes. “Only you would do that.”

  “Do you ask the clients to get up on all fours to get in between?”

  “No. Just open their legs and spread their butt cheeks. Keeps the skin taut, plus it’s less embarrassing that way. No one wants to get up like a dog on the massage table.”

  “Woof.” Lizzie giggled, spreading her butt cheeks so Marina could paint a thick wax strip between.

  “Behave,” Marina said, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

  “I read in a magazine that some beauticians ask the clients to put their legs over the waxer’s shoulders when they wax them.”

  “Gross. I guess it would make the waxing easier. I wouldn’t like to do that to a client. It’s important to respect their dignity.”

  “Why do you think so many girls want it all off?”

  Marina tested the wax with her fingers and pulled, pleased to see the clean skin she left behind. “Nearly half of my clients who want a bikini wax have it all off these days. Some say it’s because they like wearing hipster jeans. The trick is to make the procedure as comfortable as possible so that they come back.” Marina stepped back to survey her work. She kept applying thick strips of wax to the areas that needed them, testing the wax with her fingers and ripping it off. She picked up some tweezers to extract a few hairs, but Lizzie was an easy client. As a blond, she wasn’t very hairy. It took about half an hour to finish the procedure. “There, you’re done.”

  “Thanks Marina.” Lizzie examined herself looking pleased. “You do such a good job. Fast and efficient. I bet that’s why Michael and Natalia like you so much.”

  “They’re nice people. He’s so sweet about that baby.”

  Lizzie wrinkled her nose. “I like Natalia, but Michael…”

  “Don’t start on about Michael,” Marina warned. “Remember he’s paying us extra to do this.”

  Lizzie climbed off the massage bench, pulled on her G-string, shirt and hipster pants.

  Marina grimaced. “Your turn to do me. Can’t say as a Brazilian virgin I’m looking forward to it. You know natural redheads have the most hair.”

  Lizzie giggled. “Look at it this way, I’m clearing the cobwebs. It’s time you had another boyfriend.”

  “Lizzie!” Marina was about to undress when there was an urgent hammering on the door of the salon downstairs. She looked at her watch. “I wonder who it is at this time.”

  “Don’t answer it. We’re closed,” Lizzie said.

  The hammering on the downstairs door continued. Lizzie’s mobile phone rang. She reached into her bag and answered it. “Yes. Yes. I’ll go downstairs and open up. Yes, Marina’s here.” Lizzie’s cheerful expression changed. Her face became serious and she glanced at Marina.

  “What is it?” Marina asked. The feeling of dread returned creeping up her skin, possessing her body.

  “The police are downstairs. They want to question you about another murder.”

  Marina’s hands tightened convulsively and her head swirled. “I’ll open the door.” Her voice came out strained and thin, so unlike her own.

  “I’ll go too,” Lizzie said, closely following beside her down the salon stairs, her own small hand clutching the wooden banister.

  “Oh God, Lizzie, pray it isn’t someone we know.” She fished in her pocket for the key to the salon door. Her fingers were trembling so badly she could barely fit it in the lock.

  She pulled the salon door open to see the two policemen who had visited the apartment after Adele’s murder.

  Detective Davis flicked his badge open for her to see. Detective Herbert, who stood a head taller than Detective Davis, did likewise.

  “Marina Henry,” Detective Davis said.

  She nodded, so tense that her throat had seized. She brought her trembling fingers to touch her throat in the same place the cord had twisted the life out of the woman in her vision. The pain and terror of her vision remained a vivid memory.

  “We’d like to ask you some questions that would assist our investigation into the murder of Dani Caponari.”

  “Dani? No!” Tears sprang to her eyes as she thought of her cheerful, bubbly client who kept her entertained with her online dating stories. A desperate unreality seized her. Despite the vision, despite the bad feelings, she didn’t want to believe this was happening to her again. “No.” She wanted to scream. Her insides felt seared as if someone had burnt her. “She said she wouldn’t go.” She felt an arm around her shoulders and realized Lizzie was standing beside her, trying to comfort her.

  “Marina, come and sit down,” Lizzie said, leading her to the one of the ornate salon chairs in the salon waiting room.

  She wasn’t going mad. The vision had been real.

  The two policemen followed her inside and even if she’d wanted to, she couldn’t have stopped them. She looked into the faces of the policemen, but there was no sympathy for her in their expression, only the wary, hard look of cops who had seen too much.

  “Dani Caponari was one of your clients?” Detective Davis asked.

  Marina nodded. “She was just here last week. She came in on Wednesday for waxing and impulse light treatment. Poor Dani. How could this happen to her?” Tears seeped from her eyes. She rubbed them away with h
er sleeve.

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Detective Herbert said, his voice harsh.

  “She was found washed up in the Harbour,” Detective Davis said, his eyes glittered bordering on suspicion. “Just like the last one. Strangled.”

  “Why do you think Marina knows anything?” Lizzie asked. She stood beside Marina, her arm still protectively around her. Marina was grateful for the warmth and support of her presence. It gave her strength and instinctively she knew she was going to need it for what lay ahead.

  “Both murder victims were clients of yours,” Detective Davis said. “Both had Brazilians.”

  Marina was about to answer when Lizzie jumped in.

  Lizzie held her pointy chin high. “Maybe that’s a coincidence. Lots of our clients have Brazilians. Marina does most of the girls here.”

  “I’m a cop. I don’t believe in coincidences. Only facts that will lead me to a murderer.” There was a knife-edge nastiness in Detective Davis’s tone.

  “But Marina didn’t do it.”

  Marina knew Lizzie’s sincere explanations wouldn’t cut it with the detectives. She put her hand on Lizzie’s arm to still her. “Detective Davis is right. This isn’t a coincidence.”

  Detective Davis nodded approvingly, but the hard glint in his eyes remained. “So why don’t you come clean? Tell us what you know.”

  He thought she was involved. The unwelcome thought whispered through her mind like a crisp wind through barren trees. “I think the murderer is finding his victims online.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Dani said she was meeting a guy who liked Brazilians. I remember Adele said something like that.”

  “When Dani Caponari had her appointment, did she talk about her sex life?” Detective Herbert asked. He took out his notebook waiting for Marina to reply.

  Marina thought of Dani and how much pain she went through to look good. Her nostrils twitched as if she could still smell the burning hair when she gave Dani the impulse light treatment on her breasts. “Dani wasn’t promiscuous if that’s what you’re getting at.” She didn’t know why she needed to defend Dani’s honor, she just knew she didn’t like the way the police were questioning her.

  “Then why the Brazilian?”

  Marina paused. “Dani waxed because looking good made her feel confident with men. It wasn’t that she expected to have sex with her dates, she just wanted to feel good about herself.”

  “Did she say who she was meeting?” Detective Herbert asked.

  Marina shook her head. “She told me she posted her picture on different dating sites and had a lot of success. Lots of replies. Dani told me the guy she emailed liked Brazil.”

  “The Brazilian Wax Murderer,” Detective Davis said. “And you’re the Brazilian waxer.”

  Marina switched her gaze to him. He had fatty cheeks in a rotund face and a high colour. He reminded her of a bulldog who, once it had its jaws on its prey, would never let go. “I told her not to go.”

  “Why was that?”

  Marina dug her nails into her palms. “I don’t know. I just had a bad feeling, I guess because of Adele’s murder.” She couldn’t tell them about the strange voice that filled her mind when she’d waxed Dani, or the horrifying visions.

  “A feeling,” Detective Davis mimicked. “You’ll have to do better than that. We deal in facts here and the fact is that two of your clients have been murdered.” His voice was rough, loaded with accusation. “We have a twisted psychopath to catch, Ms. Henry.”

  “I can’t tell you anything else.” Marina pulled at her bottom lip in agitation. The skin felt dry and flaky. Couldn’t these cops see she was trying to help?

  “Actually we think you can,” Detective Herbert persisted. “What were your movements on Saturday night?”

  “I finished here about six, went home and spent the night in with my roommate, James.”

  “Did you have any contact with your neighbours?” Detective Davis asked.

  “No.”

  “Nice neat alibi,” Detective Herbert said.

  “Fits the flatmate’s perfectly,” Detective Davis added.

  “You’ve questioned James?” Marina asked. Worry seeped into the marrow of her bones. She stiffened.

  “Yeah. He told exactly the same neat story.” Detective Herbert scowled at her. He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and took out a card. “Here. This is my number. You come up with some decent information, call me.”

  Marina’s fingers clenched around the card.

  Lizzie looked from one cop to the other looking distressed. “Marina’s speaking the truth,” she added, backing up her friend. “I was there too, though I went out later.”

  “Why do I need an alibi? I’m not strong enough to strangle anyone even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” Marina said.

  Detective Davis looked her over, his eyes narrowed. “Right at this moment we don’t have much, but the information we do have lands right at your door.”

  Marina’s stomach muscles clenched with fear, but she was determined not to show the detectives how intimidated she felt. She stood. As far as she was concerned the interview was over. “I don’t have any more information to give you.”

  Detective Herbert looked her over. He didn’t move, clearly having other ideas. “I contacted your employer and she’s given me permission to take a sample of wax from your room.” Marina’s jaw was rigid. “It’s upstairs. I’ll show you the way.” This nightmare was growing blacker by the moment like an insidious shadow weaving its way around her. Her lovely client Dani was dead and she was, in some way, bound to her murder.

  “Why do you think they want a wax sample?” whispered Lizzie, who followed closely behind Marina like a small protective shadow.

  “I don’t know.” Marina stopped at her cubicle door, stood to one side and let the detectives pass. “The two types of wax I use are there,” she said, pointing to the molten wax in two pots.

  The police took out containers and took a sample of each.

  “What do you do with the waste?” Detective Davis asked. His cheeks puffed as he blew out air. He watched her through narrow eyes.

  Marina pointed to where the trash lay in the corner.

  Detective Davis walked over and bent to examine the garbage bin and its contents. “Who else would have access to this?”

  “The trash?” Marina asked, wondering why they were asking her such strange questions. She shrugged. “I guess the other girls in the salon, though I work full-time here. I usually take the garbage outside at the end of the day and put in a new bin liner.”

  “I see.” Detective Davis nodded.

  “Why are you interested in Marina’s trash?” Lizzie asked.

  The police didn’t answer her.

  Marina studied the detective, confused. Perhaps he was putting pieces of a puzzle together but she had no idea how each piece fitted. “I really don’t understand how I’m connected to Dani and Adele’s murder, other than doing their waxing.”

  Detective Davis walked over to her, standing so close she could see the derision in his expression. He thought she was involved. She could see it in his face. “Someone is supplying the murderer with his victims and we have reason to suspect that person could be you.”

  Chapter 11

  Lizzie knocked on Fabio’s apartment door. She was glad to visit Fabio and get away from the problems at home. She frowned. The two people she loved most in the world, Marina and James, were in trouble and she had no idea how to help them. The situation was far more serious than she had realized. She rubbed the crease between her brows, not out of vanity but sheer concern. Perhaps Fabio would have some ideas when she discussed it with him.

  When Fabio opened the door he was still wearing his weight belt around his waist, which meant he hadn’t finished training, yet his face lit up in a wide grin. His hair was cropped almost to a number one and she could see the dark roots. Perhaps she should offer to do his blond dye job
for him now they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

  “Lizzie Lu,” Fabio said, picking her up and carrying her inside.

  The way he could lift her like a feather, as if she were his little girl, thrilled Lizzie. She loved the secure feeling of being tucked against his warm skin. “Are you still training?”

  “Just finishing up,” he said, putting her on his big king-sized bed, which he’d made neatly because she liked it that way. “I was just getting in a final weights training session. The Mr. Sydney competition is coming up and I’m a hot favorite this year. Things are going good for me right now Lizzie and I don’t want anything to spoil it. I signed up two more clients today. I’m seriously pumped.”

  Lizzie studied him for a moment. He looked larger somehow, as if he’d put on more bulky muscle. His body was slick from working out and she could smell the pungent smell of male sweat. Her nostrils twitched. She rather liked it.

  “What?” Fabio asked.

  “Nothing.”

  He was breathing heavily and Lizzie could see the veins popping on his neck and arms. He lifted his barbells and weights stacking them against the wall. While he was tidying up, she wandered over to his small kitchen. There were numerous muscle-building drinks on the bench. Lizzie twisted the containers around to read the ingredients. Although there were some things she didn’t recognize, they seemed to be vitamins.

  “Watcha doing, Lizzie Lu?” Fabio walked over and stood beside her.

  Lizzie twisted her nose ring. “Just wondered what was in these drinks. You look bigger.” She studied him. “Everywhere, but especially your chest.” It was frustrating having a boyfriend with bigger breasts than her. Maybe if she took the drink and switched from aerobic to weight training, the muscles behind her breasts would get bigger too.

  Fabio’s eyes narrowed and he scowled at her. “What are you saying?”

  “Nothing.”

  Fabio looked like he’d sat on a prickle. “Are you calling me a cheat?” His face flushed with anger.

  “What do you mean?” Lizzie shrank back so that the cold of the kitchen sink pressed against the small of her back. A slip of fear slithered down her spine. She’d never been afraid of Fabio. In fact, what appealed to her was his gentle nature, but his normally placid face was creased with anger.