by Rose Pressey
Betty had mentioned that she wanted to pluck my eyebrows too. There was no way I would allow that to happen. That was where I drew the line.
“You look really pretty. I love that shade of blue,” a woman under the nearest hair dryer said.
The other women nodded in unison. In reality, the truth was that I looked ridiculous. What would Jake think? I’d probably scare him away. Hey, maybe this was how I could finally get him to stop following me. One look at my clown makeup would scar him for life.
“Can you tell us more about your job?” the hairdresser beside me asked.
I looked at Betty and wondered how much information I should share. Dorothy was under the hair dryer so she wouldn’t be there to tell me when I’d gone too far.
Finally I said, “Well, I’m a private investigator. I usually just offer discreet investigations for cheating spouses, that sort of thing.”
They didn’t need to know that I was working on my very first case ever. What would they think if I told them it was a murder investigation?
“That sounds exciting and so dangerous,” the woman getting her hair butchered said.
They didn’t know the half of it.
“I bet you get a lot of cheating husbands,” the woman said as she shook her head.
The hair stylist pulled the scissors away before she cut a chunk of the woman’s hair off.
Visions of having chunks of my hair whacked off ran through my head. Attempting not to worry about the hair styling disaster waiting to happen, I continued the conversation as a distraction. “Actually, the last case I had was a woman cheating on her husband.”
The women shook their heads.
“Such a shame. Did you catch her in the act?” Betty asked.
I grinned. “Yes, I did.”
“I have a woman who comes in here who is cheating on her husband. She tells me all about it. It’s more information than I want, but I just listen. It’s not my place to tell her not to do it,” Betty said.
I dodged the makeup brush as she attempted to add more blush. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to know.”
“What case are you working on now?” Betty asked.
I wasn’t sure if I should share that information. “Um, it’s a death investigation.” I lowered my voice.
The room stopped and they stared at me.
Betty’s eyes widened. “Who was killed?”
They all stared waiting for an answer. I’d already said too much and I needed to change the subject.
I shifted in my seat. “I’m afraid I can’t give out that information.”
“It sounds so official,” the woman said.
Betty was looking at me the suspiciously the whole time I was talking. The more I talked the more convinced she looked that I was a spy.
When Betty brought out the scissors, I had a flash of Edward Scissorhands and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I had to get out of there while I still had hair.
I jumped up from the seat. “You know, I just remembered that I have something else I need to do before I meet my appointment.” I walked toward the front of the salon.
“But you look so pretty,” Dorothy said. “Why don’t you let her finish?”
“Yes, she did a great job, but nonetheless this can’t be avoided.”
“So you’re sure you have a ride home, Dorothy?” I asked as I walked toward the door backward.
If she said she didn’t have a ride and that I needed to hang around I’d let her have it. She must have noticed the stern look in my eyes because she nodded.
“Yes, I have a ride. Thank you.” A small smile touched her lips.
I placed cash on the counter. “Thanks again, Betty. You did a lovely job.”
My voice wavered and I wondered if she knew I was fibbing. How would I get this makeup off before I met Jake? I’d need a chisel.
Betty snapped the scissors. “You sure you don’t want that trim? It’ll only take a couple minutes.”
“No, I’m good.” I waved my hands through the air.
When I finally made it out of the salon and to my car, movement from across the parking lot caught my attention. For a brief moment, I thought it was Allison Abbott. She had the same shade of blonde hair and cut in the same style. It looked just like her. But then I realized she was still in jail and I hadn’t done a darn thing to get her out.
As the woman moved closer, I could see more clearly that it wasn’t Allison. The woman looked at me and nodded, then continued into the salon. I wanted to warn her. Tell her to get out while she still had a chance. Didn’t she know what she was getting herself into as soon as she stepped inside that building?
Before one of the women changed their mind about letting me escape, I jumped in my car and headed for my lunch appointment. I definitely wouldn’t call it a date. As I headed down the palm tree lined street, my phone rang, so I pulled over to take the call. Something had come up with Detective Jackson and our non-date had been cancelled.
Of course he wouldn’t tell me what had come up, but I knew by the police scanner app on my iPhone that police had been called to the condo tower again. Detective Jackson would have to wake up a lot earlier if he wanted to try a fast one on me. I pointed my car in the direction of the condo tower intent on finding out what had happened.
Chapter Seventeen
When I pulled up to the building, police were swarming the area. I had to park my car far away. Unfortunately, it didn’t look as if I’d be able to get close to the condos. I decided to walk as close as I could get until the police stopped me. People had gathered near the building and stood on the sidewalk watching the activity. Maybe I could blend in with the crowd and Jake wouldn’t notice that I was there. I approached a group of people and acted as if I had no idea what was going on.
“What happened?” I asked the little old lady standing beside me.
“I heard gunshots, but I don’t know. I hope no one was injured.” She shook her head.
I nodded. “Yeah, me too.”
Of course the police tape marked off the area so that no one could enter the scene. If I didn’t think I’d be shot, I’d just slip right under there. Police ran back and forth as if they didn’t have a clue what was going on either. At least I didn’t feel quite as left out now.
The woman had said that she’d heard gunshots. I’d listened to the police scanner, but I wasn’t familiar with the codes, so I wasn’t sure what had happened. It wasn’t like I could walk up to the cops and ask them. They’d tell me to mind my own business. I pulled out my book of police lingo and referenced the code that I’d heard on the scanner. I flipped through the book and found the code I was looking for. Sure enough, it was for a shooting. Since there was no ambulance around I assumed no one had been hurt. That was one good thing in this situation.
How would I find out exactly what had happened? The best that I could think of at the moment was to walk over to the sectioned-off area and try to eavesdrop on the police who were talking to each other. I casually moved closer to the area. An officer fixed his gaze on me and frowned. He probably knew that I wanted to snoop around. Don’t ask me how he knew, but he knew. It was probably written all over my face. Maybe Jake had passed around my picture at the police station. I smiled at the officer, but his stony expression didn’t change. So much for using my charms on him.
As I nonchalantly walked around the area, I spotted Jake standing next to another officer. They were engrossed in conversation. Jake looked so handsome in the afternoon sunlight. What was I thinking? Focus on the task at hand, I reminded myself. It wasn’t important how handsome he looked.
Jake must have felt my stare because he looked over. Our eyes met. There was no way he hadn’t seen me. Could I dash away and make him believe that he’d only imagined seeing me? Yeah, that was a highly improbable scenario. When he turned and hurried in my direction, I spun around.
I headed back toward my car, rushing my steps. I’d never been a fast walker. As I made it past the entrance landscap
ing, I thought about hopping behind the shrubbery and trying to hide. Chances were pretty high that he’d spot me right away. When he set his sights on something, he didn’t let go. He had a laser-like focus. I heard his footsteps as he closed the distance between us. I didn’t turn around though. Maybe if I ignored him, he would leave me alone. I felt his presence behind me. I went over possible excuses to give him in my mind. It was doubtful he would believe any of them. Anything I came up with in my mind sounded ridiculous to me, so I knew it would to him too.
Someone grabbed my arm. I knew who had their hand around my arm before I even spun around. I sucked in a deep breath and faced Jake Jackson.
“Maggie Thomas, what are you doing here? You couldn’t stand to be away from me for another minute, huh?” he asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You think you’re so clever.” I straightened. “You know why I’m here. Something happened, didn’t it? You can’t hide these things from me,” I said, proud of myself for finding out about the incident.
He ran his hand through his hair. “I suppose I can’t hide things from you. You’re good.”
Okay, now he was just mocking me. “See, I am right. There is something going on here and it’s related to the murder. You can try to hide this from me all you want, but I plan on getting to the bottom of it,” I said.
“Yes, there was a shooting here today,” he said.
“Another shooting,” I corrected him.
“Yes, another shooting. We don’t know that they’re related,” he said.
“Oh, come on? You can’t expect me to believe that.”
He smiled at my bluntness.
“A madman has a gun and apparently is targeting this building. What are you all going to do? Just keep ignoring the facts?” I said.
“We’re doing our job. You have a job to do and so do I,” he said matter-of-factly.
I spun around to walk away and he matched my pace walking beside me.
“Where are you going, Thomas?” he asked.
I didn’t look over at him because I didn’t want to see his sexy smile right now. I was mad and I intended to stay that way for at least five minutes.
“Are you ready to get some lunch now?” he asked with a devilish tone in his voice.
“No, I am not ready for lunch,” I said.
“Oh, come on, Thomas,” he said.
“Stop calling me that,” I said.
“It’s your name, right?” he asked with a smile.
“Yes, but you can call me, oh, never mind,” I said.
“What are you going to do about the residents here? They’re scared,” I said, as I pointed to the group of people huddled together outside the front gate.
“We have police who are going to watch the building,” he said.
We’d reached my car.
“Thank you for the info, Jackson,” I said as I opened the car down.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
When I looked at him he flashed that dazzling smile. My five minutes wasn’t up, so I couldn’t return the smile.
“I’ll call you later,” he said as I closed the door.
I smirked as I drove away. When I looked in the rear-view mirror, he was still watching my car as I drove away.
I left the scene of the crime and pointed my car toward my apartment. I was halfway home as I bit back a smile. Yes, my five minutes was up.
Chapter Eighteen
The next day everything would have been fine if not for the same black vehicle following Dorothy and me again. My world was spinning out of control.
“Dorothy, the black car is following us again,” I said.
She lifted her spectacles up on her face, peered in the rearview mirror, and then said, “Well, I’ll be damned.”
“What the hell do they want?” My heart rate increased. “Do you think it’s the same man who was in the SUV?”
“Punch it.” Dorothy reached over and pushed down on my leg, making my foot hit the gas pedal even harder.
We sped forward in a fury. It was a good thing no other cars were in front of us.
“What are you doing?” I yelled.
“This is life or death. It calls for desperate measures,” she said in all seriousness.
I knew a trick that I’d seen on one of the detective shows (which one failed me at the moment, but that was neither here nor there), but what were the odds that I’d be able to pull it off in real life? Besides, it probably had been a fake stunt anyway. What did I have to lose at this point though? I punched the gas again without Dorothy’s help this time. I steered the car onto the next street, then immediately pulled into the parking garage. The only problem with my plan, though, was that the parking garage was closed. The gate didn’t lift and I was stuck at the guard stand.
“What are you going to do now?” Dorothy asked in a panicked tone.
“I don’t know. Let me think,” I said.
“Well, you’d better think of something fast,” she said.
To my surprise, when I looked in the rearview mirror, the black car zoomed past. I held my breath waiting for it back up, but after several seconds that never happened. Had they really not seen my car sitting there? I couldn’t get that lucky. How would I get out of here? I’d have to back up and pull out onto the street again. I’d have to do it quickly before the car came back and trapped me in this spot. I shifted the car into reverse and tapped the gas lightly. After another car passed, I pulled back onto the street. Up ahead, I spotted the black car. It was parked on the side of the road. Unfortunately, it was too far away to read the license plate number. I couldn’t drive past, so I pulled over to the curb.
After a couple seconds, the car merged back into traffic and zipped in right behind it. I was going to find out who this person was and what he wanted.
“What are you doing?” Dorothy asked.
“We’re following him.”
After a few blocks, the car turned into a gym parking lot. I circled the lot and found a spot. Dorothy hopped out behind me as we followed the car toward the building.
We rushed through the gym doors ready to confront the man who had followed us. But once inside, I stopped in my tracks.
“Which one is he?” Dorothy asked, adjusting her eyeglasses again.
The space was jam-packed with men. Their biceps were as big as my head. They wore loose fitting pants that resembled pajamas and tank tops that looked like they were about three sizes too small. Apparently they wanted to show off their top halves and hide the bottom half. Loud music blared from overhead speakers. Bangs and clanks from the weights being hoisted up and slammed down filled the air. There was also quite a bit of grunting going on too.
“How are we going to find him?” I asked.
“I think we’re the only women in the place.” Dorothy pointed out.
“I can see that,” I said.
“What was he wearing?” she asked.
I glared at her. “He was wearing the pajama pants and a tank top combo that seems to be so popular. Apparently, that’s the bodybuilder uniform for this place.”
The smell of sweat and dirty socks lingered in the air. Shining weight bars filled with weights were lined up as far as the eye could see.
“Wait. Is that him?” She pointed at a muscle man at the back of the room.
I peered across the room. With the mirrors lining each wall, it made it appear like there were a thousand times more beefed-up men. We were surrounded by them, like looking at clowns in a fun-house mirror.
“Yeah, I think that’s him. Let’s go after him. He’ll see how it feels to be followed,” I said, gesturing for Dorothy to follow me.
As we made our way across the gym, the man was leaving out a back exit. Where was he going? He’d just gotten there, and I was pretty sure that he hadn’t seen us follow him there.
When he walked out the back door, he accidentally dropped his fanny pack. I picked up my pace, but it was no use. He’d disappeared out the back door.
“I
f we hurry maybe we can catch him,” I said.
We reached the door, but when I opened it and peered around the back alley, the man was nowhere in sight.
“I think we lost him,” I said with frustration.
Men were staring at us now. I guessed we did look a bit out of place in this building. I reached down and picked up the bag before someone else could snatch it. A couple guys beside me frowned, but there was no way they were getting that bag from me…muscles or no.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” I said, motioning for Dorothy to follow.
As we walked across the gym floor, a guy stepped out in front of us. He looked as if his head was much too small for his body thanks to the inflated muscles. His blond hair was short and spiky on top and long and wavy in the back—business on top and party in the back.
“Hey, doll, you looking for a trainer?” He smiled.
Maybe my biceps were a little too soft and my butt could stand to be a tad, okay a lot, tighter, but there was no way I wanted a personal trainer. If I wanted to torture myself I’d stop eating chocolate…although, now that I thought about it, maybe coming to the gym wouldn’t be a bad idea. If I came back, I might find the guy who had followed me and find out what he wanted.
“Yeah, I guess I could tone up a little,” I said.
He looked me up and down. If he agreed with that statement I might kick him in the shin. It wasn’t like I never exercised. I ran on the beach all the time. Okay, not all the time, but a couple times a week over to the bakery for a bear claw.
“I have reasonable rates and I’ll make sure to really work you over,” he said.
Dorothy made a gagging noise. I stepped in front of her before she reached out and smacked the guy with her big brown pocketbook.
“Why don’t you give me your business card and I can give you a call,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t have any cards, but I’d be happy to write my number down for you. My name’s Erich Cochran,” he said.
Some business he had. Even I had business cards. I’d had some made with a cute magnifying glass and my name underneath. I thought the three shades of pink on the cards really made them pop.
