by Nancy Warren
“It’s nice to meet you, Toni,” he said in lightly accented English.
“You even sound like a Viking,” she said, speaking without thinking. Those blue, blue eyes and the wicked chin dimple made her foolish.
When he smiled she wondered if he and Nathan Chisolm got their teeth whitened at the same place. But she wasn’t one to quibble. If he wanted to improve on perfection, she wasn’t the woman to stop him.
“I am Danish,” he said, not embarrassed at all by her comment.
“He’s my personal trainer,” Loretta repeated.
“If you were my personal trainer I’d work out every single day.”
Loretta laughed. “I do.” She stretched her arms over her head, and Toni was able to tear her gaze away from Eric the Viking long enough to see the tone in the woman’s arms.
Loretta walked up to Eric and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure.” He sent Toni one more dazzling smile and said, “Nice to meet you. See you tomorrow, Loretta,” and he was gone.
“Oh, be still my heart,” Toni said.
Loretta laughed, a low, throaty, sexy sound. “I know. Nice eye candy. He’s also a very good trainer. If you’re in the market.”
“In Texas, I would be.”
“So, you’re heading back soon?”
“Yep, pretty soon. I’ve got to get my daughter back to school.”
“Of course. It’s too bad all this trouble had to happen while she was visiting, poor kid.”
“You said it.”
Toni gestured to the large cosmetics case she was carrying. “Where would you like to do the makeover?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.” Loretta glanced around the apartment. “What do you suggest?”
“Maybe that nice leather arm chair over there? There’s a good light I can use and I’ll drape the chair to make sure it stays clean.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Toni had always found that a woman being pampered, smoothing wonderful creams onto her face and neck and having her feet up and nothing to focus on for the next sixty minutes but her appearance, tended to treat the makeover chair like a confession booth or a therapist’s couch.
Lady Bianca had strict rules laid down for her beauty consultants. They were to teach clients how to apply the creams and lotions, never to apply the creams themselves. So, she pulled out the battery operated makeup mirror, flipping the switch so it lit up, and kept her voice soothing as she described the exfoliating cream Loretta was smoothing into her skin. “It’s made from a special seaweed you can only get off the coast of Japan. It’s not at all drying, simply polishes the skin surface.”
“Feels good,” the woman murmured.
“You have such nice skin,” she said.
“I’m lucky that way.”
Toni could see Loretta’s facial muscles relax under the pampering creams. “I can tell you’ve looked after yourself.”
“My face and body were my meal ticket. I’ve known that since I was fourteen years old and first got scouted by a modeling agency in Phoenix.”
Toni nodded. “You’re so beautiful I’m not surprised. Did you model long?”
A bitter laugh was her answer. “Do you have any idea how many pretty girls there are in the world? And how few ever make it in the modeling world? I had a couple of years where I did some runway work, and did some underwear modeling for department stores. I was even featured on a national campaign once. But I never had that mysterious thing that sets some girls apart.”
She sighed with pleasure when they moved on to a deep moisturizing cream. She smoothed the cream in an upward motion onto her face as Toni directed, and stroked down her neck. “I was dancing to stay in shape, and I ended up in dance class with a girl who worked in Vegas. She said the money was good and there were a lot of rich guys here.” She shrugged her toned shoulders. “I thought, what the hell? And came out.”
“And she was right?”
“On both counts.” She smiled. Her eyes were on her own reflection so Toni had a chance to really look at the woman, naked and vulnerable. “I was an honest-to-God Vegas showgirl when I met Grant. Of course, he was married, but he liked to watch me dance, and he liked to spend money on me. I was over thirty. I knew the clock was ticking and my time to get myself settled was running out.”
There was something about Loretta’s brutal honesty that Toni had to admire. “I bet you were stunning.”
“He’d sneak me up to his office. It was our special place.” She sighed in memory. “Those were good days.”
“And after you were married? Did you still visit him in his office?”
“Not so much. It wasn’t us much fun when it was legal, if you know what I mean.” Then she shifted. “Grant didn’t think so either, obviously.”
“Obviously? You mean…?”
“Hey, we’re both women who’ve been screwed over by men. We know the score. He found a younger model.”
“Your husband was having an affair?”
The plump lips thinned. “He was coming home smelling like perfume and it wasn’t mine.”
“Any idea who she was?”
“No.” Toni saw the muscles of Loretta Forstman’s face clench briefly. The involuntary tightening was as efficient as a polygraph at telling Toni that Loretta was lying. She knew perfectly well who her husband had been seeing.
As they finished the skin care regime and moved on to the cosmetics application, Toni adapted to her client. A makeover was about psychology as well as sales. How does this client see herself in the world? When you can paint them the way they see themselves in their dreams you’ve made a big sale.
Loretta had already told Toni what she wanted. She wanted to look like the fresh young Vegas showgirl who’d attracted the high roller, the whale. Toni pulled out her most dramatic palette, showed Loretta how to go a little heavier than normal, emphasizing the cat-like eyes and the Marilyn Monroe mouth.
When she was done, Loretta laughed in delight. “I could go on stage right now.”
“Too much?”
She shook her head, turning this way and that to admire her reflection. “Perfect. I’m seeing Grant’s lawyer later. I like the war paint.” She gave Toni back the mirror. “You did a great job. I’ll buy everything you demonstrated. I need to treat myself after what I’ve been through.”
“I so agree,” Toni said. “You know, I think you could be a wonderful addition to our team. Would you consider becoming a Lady Bianca rep yourself? I can tell you running your own independent cosmetics business can be very lucrative.”
Loretta blinked her stiffened lashes. “You think I need a job?”
Toni waved her hands delicately. “I have no idea how you were left, obviously, but if you want to earn a little extra money or a lot of money, Lady Bianca is—”
A husky laugh cut her off. “Honey, I will never have to work again.” She leaned forward, smiling the smile that must have captivated Grant Forstman. “Thanks to a wonderful little thing called life insurance.”
Chapter Fifteen
“False face must hide what the dark heart doth know.”
— William Shakespeare
Life insurance, thought Toni as she headed back down the private elevator. Money. A cheating husband. A motive within a motive.
And there was the very interesting extra stop on the private elevator ride that had her extremely curious. Dollars to donuts that elevator stopped at Grant’s private office and his home. If she was right, this was the biggest break yet in her efforts to free her ex-husband of a murder charge.
What if the video cameras hadn’t caught the murderer going into the office because the killer hadn’t entered in the same way Dwayne did, through the front door. What if there was a private entrance to Forstman’s office from his own elevator? One he kept quiet about except to a select group.
The best way to find out was to go back to Grant Forstman’s office and see if anyone felt like
gossiping.
She tried again to stop at that mysterious stop numbered one, but again the efficient elevator swooped her all the way down to the main floor and deposited her like King Kong putting Faye Wray gently on the ground.
She had to get into Forstman’s office and sniff out what she could about that elevator. She stood still for a moment and then, making up her mind on a plan of action, headed for one of the casino level washrooms. Once inside, she made full use of the cosmetics in her case, adding drama and using sexier colors than she’d normally use for daytime. She painted her lips a deep plum, making them seem larger with the skillful use of a lip pencil and gloss. Her hair hung in soft curls, so she wet her fingers at the bathroom sink and pushed them through her thick hair, giving her a sultry mane. Finally, she removed her jacket and unbuttoned her blouse by another button.
Toni was well-endowed by nature and though she didn’t usually advertise her assets, it seemed this might be an occasion when it was worth her while to do so. Not wanting to drag her professional cosmetics case with her, she dashed to the show lounge. As she’d hoped, Sunny and the Three Chers were already there. Without Dwayne, they were having to reshuffle their line-up.
When she arrived, a meeting was in progress on stage. She recognized everyone but one man, a guy with a guitar who had presumably been hauled in to replace her incarcerated ex. The backup entertainers were sitting at scattered tables. She wanted to catch Sunny’s eye and see if she could leave her case in his dressing room, but he was in intense conversation with the new guy.
She didn’t want to hike her bag all the way down to her car. Could she simply leave it here?
She checked out the tables. A full-figured blond sat alone at one. She kept rubbing a diamond ring and turning it around on her finger. Toni vaguely remembered her as a backup singer in the Salute to Broadway act. She walked over and leaned over the table, making eye contact with the sad-looking woman. “Don’t tell me, he promised you a diamond and it turned out to be a cubic zirconia?”
Big blue eyes blinked at her. “No,” the showgirl said, her eyes welling with sudden tears. “He died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” And inside she said, Oh, I can’t believe my luck. If this woman wasn’t Forstman’s latest mistress then her name wasn’t Toni Diamond. “I’m Toni Plotnik,” she said. “I have some makeup for Sunny and the Three Chers. Is it okay if I leave it in their dressing room?”
“Sure. I guess.”
“Could you show me where it is?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
When the woman rose, Toni saw that she was tall. Tall, blond, statuesque. Grant Forstman certainly was consistent. He was like a man who bought a new car every five years but always chose the same make and model. Only the year was newer.
They headed down a dark corridor to the dressing rooms. “This one’s theirs,” the young woman said.
On impulse, Toni touched her arm. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“It’s so hard,” she whispered. “We were going to get married.”
“Really?” She couldn’t stop her surprise. Did the man actually marry them all or only promise to?
“This is my engagement ring. Of course I couldn’t wear it on the proper finger until he got divorced.” She sniffed. “Now, this is all I’ll ever have of him.”
They were standing in a narrow hallway and she opened the dressing room door and saw it was empty. Two long counters with brightly-lit mirrors took up the bulk of the room. A rack on the third wall bulged with the glittery costumes. Wigs and shoes were arranged on shelves. “Where do you think I should leave the makeup case?” she asked.
As she’d hoped, Forstman’s last girlfriend stepped into the room with her, gazing vaguely around. “I guess you could leave it on the floor, underneath the makeup stations.”
“Good idea.” She stowed her case and then turned before the other woman could leave. “And you never got to say a proper good-bye?”
Once more she turned the ring around on her finger. “No.”
“When was the last time you saw Grant?” She had her fingers mentally crossed that she’d guessed right and was rewarded when the girl teared up again.
“The day he, you know.”
“The same day he was killed?”
She nodded. “We didn’t have as much fun as usual. He was preoccupied about something. But at least I got to spend one more afternoon with the man I loved.” She sniffled again.
“Afternoon?”
“Sure. We always met in the afternoon. I work at night and he always liked to keep an eye on the casino when it was busy. Sometimes he’d come in and catch the show.”
“Isn’t that elevator amazing?” she said, just two girls gossiping about stuff.
Those blue eyes opened wide and she checked Toni out, looking her up and down. “You’ve been in the elevator?”
“Only up to the apartment,” she hastily assured her new friend. “I never even met Mr. Forstman. I had to deliver something to his apartment once.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. The elevator’s something.”
As they left the dressing room, she shut the door behind them. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Oh, Susanne. But most people call me Suzie.”
She touched the woman’s shoulder. “I really am sorry, Suzie.” she said.
She found her way once more to the administration level and down the hall toward Grant Forstman’s office. It was Tuesday and the place was buzzing with staff. A certain quiver of anxiety hung in the air. She imagined people were wondering about the future of the casino and of their livelihood.
As she trod purposefully down the corridor, she wondered herself what would happen to the Double Nugget.
There was no cop standing guard outside the dead casino owner’s office today. Instead, a woman with softly curling gray hair and a determined face sat in one of the offices that faced the hallway. It was the one closest to Forstman’s so she had to assume the woman was an executive assistant of some kind. She emerged from her office before Toni could so much as make a grab for the handle on the closed door of Forstman’s office.
“May I help you?”
“Yes. Well. I hope so.” She did her best to channel the young woman who claimed to be engaged to the oft-married Mr. Forstman. She made her voice a little softer, spoke a little slower. “I think I dropped an earring in Mr. Forstman’s office.” She opened her hand to show one of the diamond earrings she’d hastily taken off on her way up here. Its mate sat zipped into her change purse.
Toni could see the older woman controlling her eyeballs from rolling with contempt but it wasn’t easy. One of them was twitching. “When was this?”
She tried to look as dumb as this woman obviously believed her to be. “About a week ago?”
“And yet I’ve never seen you before. I see everyone who goes in and out of Mr. Forstman’s office.”
Toni took a breath designed to show off her impressive cleavage. “He let me up in his private elevator.”
The woman’s gaze was so piercing she felt holes ripping in her skin. Soon her blood and organs would spill out. Finally, she said, “The cleaners come in every night. If they’d found jewelry they’d have turned it in. I haven’t seen anything.”
She tried to look coy and embarrassed. “I think the earring might have fallen down the back of the leather couch when Mr. Forstman and me were, um, meeting.”
“Uh, huh? Why don’t you give me your name and phone number? I’ll take a look for you.”
“Please, it will only take five minutes. Could I just run in there and look? The earrings were a gift.” She did her best to look teary and forlorn. “My last gift from Grant.”
She could see the denial forming when suddenly a voice yelled, “Myrna, the guys are here about the buyout. Can you come down here?”
“Leave your information on my desk,” the woman snapped and then ran down the hall and disappeared into one of the doors further down.
And before y
ou could say “No Trespassing,” Toni was easing open the door to Grant Forstman’s office and slipping inside.
She closed the door softly behind her then took a moment to simply stand still and take in all her impressions. She could still smell cigar smoke but it was growing fainter. The chemical smells deposited by the CSI team were sharper, newer scents, and there was the low note of death hanging like the aroma of rot.
She wasn’t like one of those psychics on TV who could tell you what happened by communing with spirits or anything, but she found, if she stood very still and let herself take a moment that she could take in an atmosphere. In this case, what she felt was a profound stillness. It was like being closed inside an airless cellar or something. Then she realized there was no window in the office. All the opulence of expensive furniture and décor and yet no window to let in fresh air or light or the outside world.
If Grant Forstman had shuttled between his home, his office and his casino, she wondered if he ever went outside.
She could not see an elevator door, but she was certain it was here. She ran her fingers along the wall beside the door and felt smooth drywall. The wall beside it housed the couch and was similarly elevator free. Behind the desk was wooden paneling that extended to two walls. It was dark, rich, expensive and seamed. How would you know if one of the seams was the opening for an elevator?
She didn’t know how much time she had but felt it wouldn’t be long. When Myrna didn’t find a name and address on her desk, Toni had a gut feeling she’d be in here making sure the shrine of her dead employer remained undisturbed.
The third wall contained the safe. It was behind the desk but not hidden in any way. It looked heavy and mean as though daring anyone to be foolish enough to try and get in. Of course, she knew one man who’d been foolish enough to do exactly that.
She headed for the fourth wall. It featured the same wooden paneling. Did one of the seams appear slightly darker? Yes, she thought it did. Okay, if this was the elevator, where was the call button? She scooted over to the desk and ran her hands over all the surfaces. Nothing.
