Justine stuck out her tongue at me because she had the maturity of a ten-year-old. I looked for something to throw at her, but then remembered I was an adult. Instead, I got back to work.
As luck would have it, Suzy-Bee Honey was setting up next to me. I didn’t know Suzanne personally, but I hoped to strike up a conversation with her. She reminded me of Christina, looking all-business in her pressed khaki Capris and a crisp white shirt. I watched her tie a black apron on that had been embroidered with her name, with a beehive next to it. She wore her blond hair in a similar style to Paulette’s: bangs out of her face with a headband. And she wore a gold watch on her wrist, like Paulette. They could’ve passed as sisters.
“Jeffery, not there. I meant here!” I jumped a bit at her command to the younger man who was with her. He sported slim jeans and a gray polo shirt with the same logo, and was setting up signage, apparently in the wrong spot. He was tall and thin, with black wire-framed glasses. Just watching him rearrange everything, I could tell Suzanne was difficult to please. “Oh, never mind. Go get the rest of the boxes,” she snapped at the poor guy. He did as he was told, as I assumed he did every day.
I looked down the row and saw Mrs. J. setting up her bakery booth just a couple down from me. I was glad we weren’t right next to one another, or I would’ve eaten all her inventory. Thankfully, the market kicked off right about then and I was able to forget about Mrs. J.’s cupcakes.
I had put out a couple testers to let my products speak for themselves, and my strategy appeared to pay off. The lotion bars were a big hit, especially the chocolate ones. Even my lush lemon bath bombs sold well, no demo needed. After all, who didn’t want to experience a colorful, fizzy bath that smelled amazing too?
The crowds picked up and I spotted several familiar faces, friends from high school, people from church; it seemed like the residents of Port Haven were in full attendance.
“Hey, Ziva, how’s it going?”
I looked up to see a good-looking guy who obviously knew me, but I had no idea who he was. I hated when I couldn’t place a face.
“Going well, how are you?” I played along, hoping his identity would pop into my brain.
“Doing just fine.” He looked as if he was going to say something else, but then abruptly changed his mind and turned and left.
That was weird. I didn’t have time to dwell on it as just then I heard Mrs. J. causing a commotion. I didn’t recognize who she was arguing with, but Suzanne did.
“That Vicki Kline again. I’m not sure which one of those women are worse,” she said to Jeffery.
I took a closer look. Vicki wore her dark hair in a long braid down her back. She, too, wore glasses, only her black frames were a thicker plastic. Very librarian. I highly doubted she was used to causing a ruckus.
Vicki’s booth was next to Justine’s, so kitty-corner from mine. I was worried Mrs. J. might be accusing her of murder, or something like that, which could’ve very well been the case given what Mrs. J. said about her the night before. But it turned out to be an argument over flowers. Yes, you heard me correctly. Vicki was selling a variety of potted plants and rose bushes to anyone and everyone, except for Mrs. J.
“You always kill them!” Vicki was saying. “I can’t, in good conscience, sell you one.”
I thought back to Mrs. J.’s porch. She did always have different flowers set out. I just thought she liked to switch it up. It never occurred to me she was killing them off.
“What do you care? They’re plants. Now give me that pink one right there.” Mrs. J. plucked a leaf off one and dropped it to the ground. I thought Vicki was going to blow a gasket.
“They’re my plants.”
Mrs. J. plucked off another leaf.
“Don’t touch them again.”
Pluck.
“Birdie Jackson, you’re impossible! Now get!”
“I’ll get once I have my plant.”
“That is not happening. Now don’t make me call the police.”
“You’re going to call the cops over a plant?”
Vicki reached for her cell phone.
“Oh, go sit on a rose bush, you nut.” Mrs. J. batted her hand toward her. “Humph. See if I donate to the conservatory anymore, with the way their employees treat me.” Mrs. J. said the last part mostly to herself. I could tell she was in a bad mood, and I wasn’t sure it had all that much to do with Vicki.
“How’s it going, Mrs. J.?” I was surprised she had left her baked goods in the first place.
“This here’s been real disappointing. Haven’t sold a single pie, cupcake, cookie, you name it. It’s been down-right insulting. Shame on all of you!” Mrs. J. shouted to the passersby, causing a couple people to jump and maybe a baby cry (hard to tell with the little ones). I had been too busy to notice how bad her business had been, but now that I looked around, I realized people were clearly avoiding her.
“That’s ridiculous. Send some of your sweets my way and I’ll set them out on my table.”
“Good idea. Thanks, sug’. I’ll be right back.” Mrs. J. brought an assortment of desserts over and I gladly displayed them. I was surprised by how much table space I had, but then again, I shouldn’t have been, seeing that I was almost out of inventory. Hopefully, I’d have the same luck with Mrs. J.’s baked goods.
I saw Mayor Potts making his way through the crowd, doing his mayor shtick: shaking hands, chuckling, telling a joke to whomever would listen. Could he be a killer? He doesn’t look like one. I watched as he played an impromptu game of peek-a-boo with a baby. No, definitely not a killer.
“Morning, Mr. Mayor,” I said when he stopped by.
“Well, don’t those just look delicious.” Mr. Potts eyed up the tuxedo cupcakes. They were chocolate cupcakes dipped in ganache and then topped with white cream frosting. Sounds amazing, right?
“They are. I love them.” Well, I was sure I would once I ate one. I had already planned on buying a baker’s dozen from Mrs. J. Those were a personal favorite of Finn’s. Oh, never mind. What was I thinking? They would be stale by the time he got back.
My mind went back to the sale and making Mrs. J. some cash. “Do you want to sample one?”
“Oh yes, yes I would. That would be wonderful.” Mr. Potts took a healthy bite and I found myself a little jealous. I was thinking I should try one too. That is, until I remembered my delicious funnel cake from just a couple hours ago. I needed to show some self-control, especially with how horrendous my eating habits had been. And working out? Yeah, that hadn’t been happening either. Okay, self-control starts NOW.
“What do you think? Would you like to purchase a few?” I thought Mr. Potts was about to say yes. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. My smile vanished. Oh my gosh, is he choking? What in the world is going on?
“Are you okay?” No sooner were the words out of my mouth did his eyes roll into the back of his head and he crashed onto the ground.
Sweet sugar. I killed the mayor.
As it turned out, he wasn’t dead. But he wasn’t doing well either. Once the ambulance left and the chaos settled, I found myself face to face with Detective Roxy, again. Oh boy, here we go again.
Detective Roxy had on a pair of skinny jeans, a pink tank top, and pink Converses. I liked her style. Except for her makeup. Today, everything was pink—her lipstick, eyeshadow, blush. The explosion of pink on her face, plus her outfit, was just way too much. I couldn’t think of a polite way to clue her in that she looked like a giant ball of cotton candy.
Unfortunately, Detective Roxy wasn’t here to talk about her style, or lack thereof. She got right to work. “Pretty convenient you found Paulette, and now this business with the mayor.” Convenient wasn’t the word I would’ve used. She waited for me to explain.
“I was just helping out a friend. Her business was slow and I thought I’d give her a hand. I let her set up her baked goods on my table.”
“Would this friend be a Mrs. Birdie Jackson?”
“It would.�
� I eyed the crowd, looking for Mrs. J., but I couldn’t spot her. I didn’t want to throw her under the bus, but I didn’t want to lie. The fact was Mr. Potts ate one of her cupcakes and then keeled over, and no one else had eaten any.
“Is he going to be okay?” Detective Roxy knew who I meant.
“Not sure yet.” I had no idea if she’d tell me the truth, even if she did know. Detective Brandle would’ve.
“Let me know how else I can help. I’ve never seen anything like that,” I told her.
Detective Roxy seemed to see that I was sincere. “Tell your friend to give me a call. She seems to have disappeared.”
I looked around again, but the detective was right. Oh great. Next thing I knew, there’d be an APB out for Mrs. J. What was she thinking? Unless she’s turned into a psychopathic killer… I told Detective Roxy I would keep her updated, and turned to get back to work.
“What are you selling?” Detective Roxy asked.
“I started my own beauty line. All my products are handmade with natural ingredients like honey, coconut oil, beeswax, essential oils, things like that. So, they’re super moisturizing, and they smell delectable.”
“Really?”
Finally, an opening.
Detective Roxy left my booth with several of my products, including a few lotion bars, lip balms, and bath bombs. I also told her about Beauty Secrets and slipped her a catalog. I couldn’t do anything about today’s pink fiasco, but I could offer her a mini makeover, which is exactly what I did.
“Hi, I couldn’t help but overhear you talking. I would love to try out one of your lotion bars. My hands get so dry from working in the dirt.” Vicki, the plant lady, stood before me, completely shy, with not an ounce of anger left.
“Oh yeah, um, that was my last one. But … I have an extra bar in my purse that you’re more than welcome to.” It was from a previous batch, but still worked great.
“If you’re sure?”
“Absolutely. This a lemon scent I was experimenting with. You’ll have to let me know what you think.” Vicki took the bar and sniffed it. “Sweet, huh? All you need to do is hold it in your hands and let it melt just a little, then rub it in. Your hands will be super soft and hopefully protected a bit from the soil.”
“Thanks, I’ll definitely give it a try.”
“You really like plants,” I said. Vicki blushed slightly. I had a tough time believing she was the same person shouting moments ago.
“I do. It’s a hobby turned passion.”
“That’s awesome. That’s how I feel about my business. You need to do what you love.”
“Exactly. I used to work a day job, but once I made time to focus on me, I discovered that I loved botany. Plants are fascinating.”
“You work at the conservatory?”
“I do.”
“I love the gardens there. So beautiful, with all the different themes. The orchids are my favorite.” They didn’t usually make me sneeze.
“Which ones? Cymbidiums? Phalaenopsis?”
“Er, the purple ones? Sorry, I’m terrible with names.” And with plants in general. Vicki probably wouldn’t be so nice to me if she knew how many plants I’d killed in my day.
“Hold on.” Vicki ran to her table and rushed back to me. “If you want to learn, I teach a couple classes.” She placed a flier in my hand. The conservatory offered Gardening Basics, Trimming 101, Eat it!, and Poisonous Plants in your Garden.
“Wow, thanks so much. I know I need to learn more, especially in this line of work.” My holistic knowledge was very basic.
“Anytime. Hi, Jeffery.” Vicki turned her attention to whom I gathered was Suzanne’s husband. He looked up and smiled.
“Jeffery, are you done yet?” Suzanne snapped. It was bizarre. I had watched Suzanne all morning. She seemed so nice to everyone, except Jeffery. People seemed to genuinely like her too. She just hated her husband and I wondered why. I couldn’t help it; I was terribly nosey. Maybe I can ask Mrs. J. about it … if she hasn’t fled the country yet.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said to Vicki.
She nodded. “Hi, Suzanne.”
Suzanne completely ignored her. It was kind of sad, but I let it go.
Even after almost killing the mayor and Mrs. J. running away, my morning had gone well. Serenity Now was officially out in the world and people seemed to love my products as much as I did. I couldn’t wait to tell Finn. I thought about all the ways I could celebrate. Of course, that made me think of Finn again, but since he was gone, mint chocolate chip ice cream would have to do. I was ready to pack it up and call it a success when trouble popped up.
“Ziva, can you look at this?”
“What’s up?” I picked my head up from under the table. I was just gathering my things. One of my first clients from the morning had stopped back over. Her hands and forearms had the lightest red rash.
“It just itches. I have no idea what’s going on.”
“What the…? Are you allergic to honey or orange essential oil?”
“I don’t think so.”
“The only other ingredients are beeswax, shea butter, and coconut oil.”
My client shook her head. “I’ve never had anyone have a reaction before.” No sooner were the words out of my mouth did I notice two more clients headed my way, both scratching their palms and arms. Don’t panic.
But it only got worse.
I started apologizing and handing out refunds left and right. I had no idea what had gone wrong or why so many people were having a negative reaction. Then, I looked over at Justine, laughing her head off. I had no idea what she had done, but I’d guarantee this was her fault and she was going to pay.
Unfortunately, Justine took off before I could have words with her. But I knew where she lived.
7
I spent an extra hour apologizing to everyone and offering to somehow make it right. At that moment, all I could think about was proving Justine’s guilt and having her issue a public apology. I was ready to call the police and have an official investigation launched, but it turned out I didn’t have to.
I had stopped back home to change my clothes and gather my thoughts before heading over to Justine’s. I figured I needed a minute to clear my head before I went and did something stupid, like bash Justine in the head. When I pulled into my spot behind the antiques shop, I saw Detective Roxy waiting for me.
“Long time no see,” I said.
Detective Roxy held out her palms for me to see. They were as pink as the rest of her.
“Son of a—. Not you too.” I closed my eyes and growled inside. Maybe Detective Roxy could go with me to Justine’s … to keep me from murdering her. I invited Detective Roxy up and shared my suspicions on what had happened.
“Do you have any more product left?” she asked.
“I didn’t, but I do now thanks to all the returns.” I handed a box over to her. “Seriously, whatever she did might just have ruined me, my reputation anyway. I’m not sure how I’ll be able to fix this.” Justine had done a lot of horrible things to me over the years, like egging the inside of my locker in middle school, but this ranked right up there as the worst.
“Let me have our guys take a look at this and see what we can find. Honestly, it reminds me of what it was like when I got poison ivy camping a few years ago.”
“Poison ivy? Great. Let me know what type of legal charges I can file because, believe me, I will be filing them.” Not sure it would be enough. I was already going to have to do a whole rebranding strategy and tell Mrs. DeVine what had happened. That wasn’t a phone call I was looking forward to.
I then thought back to this morning with the mayor, and something bothered me about the whole Mrs. J. angle. I finally knew what it was. “Hey, listen, I know Mrs. J.’s on your radar, and I get that, I do; but I forgot to tell you, she baked two cakes on Friday. One for me and one for the competition, and no one else got sick.”
“You’re assuming it was an accident.”
> “Well yeah, I mean Mrs. J.’s not one to go around poisoning people. Her baking is legendary, and it’s a point of pride for her. I can’t see her ruining her reputation. Not only that, but what’s her motive? Even if she didn’t like Paulette, why poison the mayor?” If that is in fact what happened.
“I don’t know, but I’m working on it.”
I was afraid of that.
Detective Roxy left and I didn’t have even five minutes to myself before Aria walked in. She was a crying mess. As in mascara running down her face, swollen eyes, runny nose, mess. My usual discomfort set in. Did I mention how much I absolutely hated crying? And Aria had a puppy with her. A poodle. At least I think that’s what it was. The poor pup had been dyed shocking pink, and it looked like someone had colored in black eyebrows on him.
“What in the world is going on, girl?” I took the puppy from her arms and searched frantically for a tissue. Aria plopped down on my couch. Cue the hiccupping. My poor bestie couldn’t even get the words out. I thought for a minute that her wedding had been called off, but that didn’t explain the puppy.
“Here.” I handed the tissue box to her. Worry set in that something serious had happened, like to one of the kids. “Arjun? Amelia?”
“They’re…fine. Well…they hate each…other, but they’re fine.”
Whew. “Vince?”
“Ffff-ine.”
M-kay. I stared at her for a moment. “You’re killing me here. Wait! Someone didn’t die, did they?”
Aria shook her head.
More waiting. I talked to the puppy for a minute, “What’s your name, little guy?” The pink puff ball licked up my neck and tried to nibble at my ears. I held him up in front of me. “This isn’t your fault, is it?”
“I just can’t!” Aria finally said. Cue more crying.
“Honey, you’re going to have to elaborate.”
“The kids, the wedding, it’s all a mess!”
“What did the kids do now?”
“They hate each other so much. Arjun cut off all of Amelia’s doll’s hair.”
“At least it wasn’t Amelia’s. Am I right?”
Kiss & Makeup: Beauty Secrets Mystery Book 2 Page 5
