by D E Dennis
She picked up the tablet-looking thing and swiped her finger along the screen. It responded to her eagerly, turning on right away. Monica smirked at him. “Get the popcorn ready, bro. We’re watching the movie in high style.”
She firmly tapped the screen...
...and almost dropped the tablet as they clapped their hands over their ears, crying out.
Monica hurried to lower the volume of the TV from deafening to reasonable, but Michael had enough.
“That’s enough,” Michael said. “We’re leaving now.”
“But, Michael,” she whined. “It’s fine now, and I want to see the movie.”
“Then rent it and watch it in your own house, like a normal person.” He bent down and fiddled with the DVD player until it spat out the disc. He put it back in its case and handed it to his sister. “Return it and then we’re leaving.”
She sighed but went to do as he asked. Michael picked up the DVD they had removed, glanced at it, and then put it back in the player. Everything was going back exactly where they found it.
Monica picked up the laptop, and they left the living room heading down the hallway for the front doors. Michael had just wrapped his fingers around the doorknob when it turned in his hand. He let go and stepped back.
“—cleaned up before they get here. The last thing they need is for—”
Malia Diragoni stepped over the threshold, caught sight of them, and blinked. “Oh, hello, darlings. What are you doing here?”
Monica came from behind him and held out her hand. “We were having a look around,” she said. “See if we could learn anything new in the light of day.”
“And did you?” she asked. She gestured them off to the side to make room for the workers. “Take everything away, sweep, mop, and wash the dishes,” she ordered the cleaning crew. “I don’t want any trace of the party left. The last thing my friends need is to come home to a reminder of the horrors of last night.”
“Yes, ma’am,” someone replied before a dozen people streamed through the door and into the house.
“You’re a friend of the Cadals?” Michael asked.
Malia turned back to them. “Yes. Old friends, darling. So tell me, did you find anything?”
Monica shook her head. “No, nothing to prove that she was attacked or who did it, but we won’t give up until we know for sure what happened to her.”
Malia reached out and grabbed her hand. “Good. Please do everything you can, and I will of course, do my best to assist you. I told my assistant to email the names of the people I hired to work the party. You should have them by the morning. Is there anything else I can do?”
“That’s all for now, but we will let you know if we need more,” said Monica. She waved goodbye to Malia and they left the house and headed for Michael’s car.
Monica spoke up when they got inside. “If we swing by my friend’s place, I can get him started on cracking the laptop.”
“Alright.” Michael started the car and pulled out of the drive. “We’ll meet at the office tomorrow and then head over to Beauty’s apartment. We’ll have Ella go through the employee list to see if she can connect anyone to Beauty.”
She nodded. “Sounds like a plan, bro. We’ll find this phantom in no time.”
AS USUAL, MICHAEL WAS awake, alert, and at his desk ready to go by the time his sister and their assistant, Eleanor Glass, strolled in the next morning.
“Morning,” he said cheerily.
“Stop that,” Monica grumped. Throwing her jacket and purse on her desk. “You know it offends me when you’re so dang happy in the morning.”
Michael laughed and waved at Ella. She was in a much better mood.
“Good morning, Michael.” She lifted a brown paper bag. “I brought you both donuts.”
He grinned. “I knew there was a reason I hired you.”
Ella tossed it to him, and he rescued a glazed donut before handing it over to his sister.
Ella shed her things and sat down at her desk. There was hardly room for three desks in the main room, but they all needed space to work so they dealt with the tight fit. When they truly needed some breathing room, one of them would move into the breakroom. The second, albeit smaller room where Michael had set up a couch, television, and a whiteboard and markers. Between that and the kitchenette and bathroom, Michael was set to work in the office all day and all night without leaving, and he had done more than once.
“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Ella asked with a smile. She brushed her long hair over her shoulder and sat at attention, ready to work. Ella was eighteen years old and a freshly minted student of Castle Rock University, but she worked harder than both of them combined. She always managed to have the office clean, the files sorted, her homework done, and a snack waiting for them when they came back from a long day of pounding the pavement chasing down cheating spouses.
“We’ve got a new case,” Michael began. He filled her in on everything that happened during the weekend.
Ella gasped. “Someone pushed Beauty Cadal down the stairs? But I know her. She goes to my school.”
“You guys hang out?” Monica asked around a mouthful of fried dough.
Ella shook her head. “No, we didn’t have any of the same classes, but I’ve seen her around and know about her blog.”
“You do?” Michael said. “So it really is popular?”
Ella suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Yes... but not for the right reasons.”
“What does that mean?”
“You can see for yourself.” Ella booted up her computer and Michael polished off his donut before going to stand by her desk. Monica soon joined him.
Ella spoke as she typed in the web address. “I heard about it from my roommate. I was getting ready for class and I pulled out a hoodie and a pair of sweats. Layla looked at me like I was insane and asked if I was trying to get on the list. I had no idea what she was talking about until she showed me this.”
Ella pushed her chair away and gestured to the screen. Monica and Michael leaned in at the same time.
Michael grabbed the mouse and scrolled down, his eyes widening as he went.
“What is this?” Monica said in shocked horror. “Why would anyone do this?”
Beauty isn’t Skin Deep was not a fashion blog, or at least, it wasn’t a fashion blog as they had come to know it. Beauty did have tabs for makeup tips, hair tips, and links to clothes that were in style, but under the tad labeled The List were photos of hapless people and underneath that were scathing comments on their outfits, their hair, their shoes, and pretty much every fault that Beauty found in them. If she had kept to the clothes that would have been bad enough, but her remarks often veered into the personal. The faces were blurred out and no names were mentioned, but Michael was sure people could still figure out who she was referring too.
Michael stopped on one photo and read the caption aloud. “Dear fans, you know it is my mission in life to make the world a more beautiful place. I take time and energy to research the latest trends, make tutorials, and provide you with options to improve yourself. So you can imagine my disappointment when people like this still insist on walking around looking like a pile of human waste. Green athletic shoes, ripped jeans ten years out of style, and an oversized t-shirt that doesn’t have the decency to at least be her boyfriend’s. Although, I guess she wouldn’t be wearing boo’s t-shirt, since last week he dumped her for someone who knew how to dress. Do better, girl, despite what you’ve heard, beauty isn’t only skin deep.”
There was more, but Michael stopped, his stomach churning. “Why would she write all this?” Michael said, echoing Monica’s question.
“I don’t know,” Ella said. “But everyone knows about it and if you read some of the comments, people are trying to guess who the person in the picture is and lol-ing.”
Monica scoffed. “Her friend did say Beauty’s blog was starting to make money and get noticed by people in her field. People were lapping it up, so she didn�
�t stop.”
“But why didn’t someone stop her?” Michael raged. “She’s trashing random people and embarrassing them for the world to see.”
Ella shook her head. “You can’t see the faces, and she was careful to never identify someone outright. It’s just a bunch of vague hints and digs. Not to mention, she’s got Daddy’s bank account and lawyers on her side. Trying to sue her would be a waste of time and money.”
Monica kissed her teeth. “Emma French was right.”
Michael straightened, focusing on his sister. “Right about what?”
“Beauty was gorgeous on the outside, but a gargoyle on the inside.”
IT WAS A NEWLY ENLIGHTENED Michael and Monica that got into the car and peeled out of the parking lot.
“We may not know the who or the how, but this may be the why,” Monica said. “Beauty must have embarrassed someone on her blog, made them the object of ridicule, and they decided to get back at her.”
“We have Ella looking through the guest list, employee list, and The List. She’ll find out if there is a connection between the blog and the people at the party.”
“I wonder why her parents didn’t tell us about the blog?”
Michael shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t know?”
“What else do they not know about their daughter?”
“Maybe her apartment will hold some clues. Far away from Mom and Dad’s watchful eye. We might discover more about her.”
“I’m not sure I want to learn any more about her,” Monica grumbled.
They fell silent for the rest of the drive.
Michael turned down Beauty’s street and into a luxury apartment complex. Consulting the directions Charles sent him, Michael drove through the complex until he reached Beauty’s building.
They parked the car and made the trek up a flight of stairs and stopped outside her door.
“Nice place,” Michael remarked. “Close to campus and about as expensive as it gets on our side.”
“Who is supposed to let us in?” Monica said softly.
“Charles said he would call the staff and have them waiting for us. I’m guessing they are inside.” Michael raised his hand and knocked.
The door opened almost immediately.
“Hello!”
“Hello!”
“Hello!”
Michael took a quick step back. He had not been prepared for the enthusiastic greeting.
Three elderly women beamed at them from the other side of the doorway. All three were blonde and gray, rosy-cheeked, and dressed in simple ankle-length dresses of different shades. One wore pink, the other wore blue, and the third woman wore green.
“Hello,” Michael said cautiously. “My name is Michael Grimm, and this is my partner, Monica Grimm. I’m sure Charles told you why we’re here.”
Three faces fell.
“Of course, we know,” said one of the women. “We were at the party when poor Beauty fell. I can’t believe she is hurt.”
“And in a coma,” another said mournfully.
“So sad,” said the last.
Michael looked between them. “You were at the party?”
One nodded. “Mr. Cadal was kind enough to invite us. He said it was to thank us for all we’ve done for Beauty. It was so fun getting to dress up and wear those mysterious masks.” She tittered. “All those fancy people. I think there were even a few celebrities there. Can you imagine? Us rubbing elbows with celebrities. It was the perfect night—” She abruptly realized what she was saying. “Well, except for...”
Mysterious is right. I don’t remember seeing these three at all, but then I did only ask to speak to Beauty’s friends and the party staff. I never thought to ask for Beauty’s own staff.
“Who are you?” Monica probed.
The woman nearest the door tossed her head. “Oh, forgive us, you must think us so rude. My name is Dora,” said the woman in green. “I’m Beauty’s housekeeper.”
“I’m Donna,” replied the woman in blue. “I’m her cook.”
“And I am Mary.” This came from the woman in pink. “I’m Beauty’s driver.”
“Please, come in,” said Dora.
They thanked her and stepped inside, wiping their feet on the rug. Michael looked around and noticed right away that this pace was nothing like her room at Cadal Manor. That place had been a disaster area, but it looked lived in, like a home. This place was cold and impersonal. Sleek, modern furniture, but there were no photographs or anything to indicate who lived here.
Michael voiced his observation as he walked further inside. “Did Beauty spend much time here?”
“One shouldn’t gossip, but no, not much,” admitted Mary. “If she stayed late on campus or”—she lowered her voice—“wanted time alone with her boyfriend, she would stay the night, but other than that she spent most of her time at the manor.”
“Why keep this apartment then?” Monica questioned.
“She is an adult now,” Dora replied. “She wanted to have some independence.”
Michael was sure the thought going through his sister’s mind was the same as his.
Staff waiting on you hand and foot in the apartment your father paid for is being independent?
Monica looked at Mary. “Sorry, but why did Beauty need a driver? I thought she knew how to drive?”
“She does, but after she got into that accident a few years ago and was run off the road, her parents hired me to take her around.”
“Because of one drunk driver?”
“It wasn’t just the driver that caused the accident. Beauty’s hydraulic fluid was leaking, and she never noticed. When the car forced her off the road, the brakes failed, and she crashed into a tree. My job is mostly to maintain the car and make sure it’s in working order.”
Monica nodded. “And you, Donna?” Monica turned to her. “Were you hired to ensure no more strawberry juice ended up in her food?”
“Oh, dear,” Donna fluttered. “I see the Cadals told you all about Beauty’s little accidents.”
“Do you believe they were accidents?” Michael asked them.
The ladies shared a look. Michael studied them. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed to him that they were enjoying themselves.
“We don’t know what to believe,” Dora finally said. “We certainly don’t want to think that someone wanted to harm her. Or that she could have been pushed down the stairs.”
Monica took over. “So she never told you about someone bothering or threatening her?”
“No,” all three said at the same time.
“And where were you three at nine on Saturday night?”
“Nine?” Dora repeated. “Well, that was right before the movie was going to start. The three of us were waiting by the stage.”
Monica nodded. “Thank you. Do you mind if we take a look around?”
“No, no, no,” Donna said, flapping a hand at them. “That is why you’re here, you go right ahead.”
Michael and Monica thanked them again. Like the day before, they searched through every room. Beauty’s bedroom, the guest room, and the office. They looked through the desks, drawers, and under the bed but they found nothing in each impersonal space.
“It’s like they said,” Monica announced as she stepped out of Beauty’s bathroom. “Beauty clearly didn’t spend much time here. This was just her crash pad when she wasn’t feeling the forty-five-minute drive back to Fairy Tails.”
Michael nodded. “Let’s head out. We can grab some lunch, go back to the office, and see if Ella has discovered anything.”
“Sounds good.”
Chapter Three
Ella had not discovered anything.
“Sorry, guys,” she said, looking up from the pile of papers to accept her taco. “There are two hundred and fifty names to work through, it’s going to take me a while.”
Michael threw himself in his chair. “It’s alright. We didn’t find out anything new either.”
“I did speak to Gabriel
Silva, Minnie Choi, and Emma French. I told them you were hoping to talk to them again, and they said you could stop by campus and catch them between classes.”
“Okay, we’ll do that tomorrow. Did you talk to the guards working the party?”
She shook her head. “I called Marcus Pepper, but he didn’t answer his phone. I left a message.”
“Thanks, Ella. We couldn’t do this without you.”
She gave him a lopsided grin. “What are you guys going to do for the rest of the day?”
Monica spoke up. “We’re going to the hospital after we eat. Charles has been calling all morning. He’s demanding an update so we’re going to tell him the little we know in person. After that, I have band practice.”
“I’ll be visiting a friend after the hospital,” Michael said simply. “Neither of us plan on coming back to the office, so you can close up, Ella.”
She nodded. “That’s fine. Maybe then, I’ll have worked through most of this list.”
The Grimm siblings finished their lunch quickly, and once again tromped out to the car. “Are we really going all the way to Fairy Tails just to see the Cadals, and tell them we still have nothing?” Monica asked.
“Have to. I want to see their reaction when we tell them about Beauty’s blog.”
They hopped in the car, and off they went. Monica turned the music on as Michael pulled down the main drive. They enjoyed the tunes while they made the ride through town, leaving behind the old and run-down, for the new and shiny.
Michael rolled down the window when he reached the Fairy Tails gates, but the guard just glanced at him and waved him through.
“I’m starting to become a regular,” he mumbled.
Soon enough, they arrived at the hospital and found themselves back in the elevator. The siblings stepped out and strolled straight on to Beauty’s room, not bothering to announce themselves to the nurses.
Monica knocked once before pushing through. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs.—”
