Eyeliner & Alibis

by Stephanie Damore

“What about the map?”

  “Oh, yeah. You can look for other people on the map. See how it’s glowing blue over here? That shows there’s been some recent Snap activity. Then see how this is glowing red by the volleyball courts? That shows there’s a ton of activity; it’s a hot spot, which makes sense with the tournament going down.”

  Mixed in with the glowing orbs were little cartoon bitmojis here and there. “These are your friends?” I asked, referencing the bitmojis.

  “Yeah, or just people who’ve shared their location.”

  I copied Lian and brought up the map, looking around. Bingo! Claire’s little red-haired bitmoji, Clairbear21, was right there on the Snap Map. I touched the bitmoji to make sure that it was in fact her. Sure enough, a video of her loaded. “All right, here’s a look at the tournament. Isn’t it gorgeous out today?” Claire did a panorama of the nets and the players taking to the sand. The ocean was just visible in the background. “I’m going to be out here for a couple of hours, so hit me up.” I felt like I had won the lottery.

  “Oh my goodness, girl, you are a lifesaver. Can I get this to go?”

  “What? Oh, yeah sure.” Lian jumped up and got a to-go carton. I slapped a twenty on the table and headed to the beach. I hadn’t brought a bathing suit, but a quick stop at one of the beachside boutiques would remedy that. A girl could never have too many bathing suits.

  I pretended it was a total coincidence that I had run into her, and that I wasn’t a total stalker. I thought I was quite believable.

  “Oh my goodness, Claire? Is that you?” I lowered my sunglasses and peered down at the young host.

  Claire was stretched out on her beach blanket, watching the men’s volleyball game just in the distance. I may have been in a hater mood when it came to men, but I could still appreciate the view. Bare-chested sun gods wearing board shorts? Yes, please.

  “Ziva? Hey, how’s it going?” Claire rolled over on her beach towel from her belly to her back, and sat up. “You on vacation?”

  “No, actually, I live here.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, but no one would blame me for taking off after Friday’s on-air fiasco.”

  “I know. Gosh, that was awful. I’m so sorry she did that to you.”

  “Me too.”

  Claire scooched over and motioned for me to lay my towel down. There wasn’t a lot of space, as fans were starting to crowd in, and I knew the beach would soon be packed. I joined her in the sand and started lathering up.

  “Yours?” Claire motioned to the un-labeled bottle that I was squirting lotion out of.

  “You know it. I’m not a fan of commercial sunscreens for so many reasons.”

  Claire tilted her head in confusion.

  “It has a lot of toxic chemicals, not to mention the havoc it wreaks on ocean life.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah, so once I really got my beauty business going, I started considering other products that needed revamping. Sunscreen became a top priority. I’m hoping it will be ready within the next few months.”

  “Mind if I try it?”

  “Of course not, help yourself.” I passed the bottle her way. “You know, I have a VIP club. You can sign up on the store’s website to get free samples, if you’re interested.”

  “I’m already a member.” Claire blushed. I knew I liked her. I had been right in my initial assessment: Claire was a sweet girl. I noticed, now that we weren’t on set, her voice had a little bit of a southern twang to it, which I pointed out to her, in a polite way, of course. “Where are you from originally?”

  “Kentucky. Can y’all tell?” Claire kicked the twang up a notch.

  “Just a bit,” I said with a smile. “I think it’s adorable, that is, if you don’t find that offensive.”

  “No, not at all. Personally, I wish I didn’t have to lose it to be on TV, but I guess you could call it an occupational hazard.”

  “They made you fake your accent?” I guess I was a bit more naïve than I thought when it came to the entertainment industry.

  “No one asked me to directly, but you’re not going to make it too far when you sound like a hillbilly, or so they told me.”

  “That’s horrible. I never even thought of it that way.” I pondered all the national television news shows and programming that I occasionally tuned into and I had to admit, I’d never heard much diversity in accents. I could see now it wasn’t a coincidence.

  “I heard about Marissa,” I said, waiting to see how Claire would react.

  She didn’t even flinch. “Honestly, and I know this going to sound horrible, but it doesn’t surprise me. She wasn’t a very nice person. I might’ve not known her for that long, but I can tell you that a lot of people wanted her dead.”

  “I could believe that. I hardly knew her, but I could see how some people would have it in for her.”

  “I probably shouldn’t have taken off, but the whole thing creeped me out. I know once the police start digging into her background, they’re going to come to me for questioning.” Shock registered on my face, without my consent, at those words. “Let’s just say we didn’t get along very well, and everyone knew it,” Claire supplied.

  “A little behind-the-scenes rivalry?”

  “More than a little bit. Marissa and I were hired at the same time and even though they never said it, we knew we were competing for air time. Every time we did a segment, it was basically an on-camera audition.”

  “That’s stressful.”

  “It was, absolutely. We were vying for air time for months, which is why I thought it would’ve been better if we were friends. Unfortunately, Marissa thought it was okay to stab her friends in the back.”

  “And now, someone literally did just that.”

  “I know.”

  “You said a lot of other people wanted her dead. Who else can you think of?”

  “Her husband? Or I guess he’s her soon-to-be ex-husband.”

  “She was going through a divorce?”

  “A nasty one. And her husband wasn’t the type of guy who liked being cast aside.”

  Who does? It was a bit of a dumb statement, but I continued playing into Claire’s words, seeing that she looked like she wanted to spill a secret. “Really? You have to tell me about him now.”

  “Dr. Stewart? I guess you wouldn’t know of him, being from out of town and all.” She was right. I had never heard of him. “You could say he’s the top plastic surgeon in all of Southern Florida, and that’s saying something.”

  It was totally snippy of me to even wander onto this train of thought, but I could see Marissa having some work done. I shifted subtly to reinvest my attention in our conversation.

  “So, the prestigious doctor’s wife left him as soon as she hit the big time?” I said.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Nice, and now there are two hosts who have been murdered.”

  “Wait, what?” Claire’s eyes got all buggy.

  “Sterling.”

  “Sterling’s dead?” Genuine shock registered on her face.

  I took advantage of the situation. “And I saw you yesterday making a run for it.”

  “I—I… Wait, you followed me?”

  “Not at all.” I stalked you. There’s a difference. “Remember, I live here, but I have been wanting to talk to you.” I gave Claire a moment to think and when she still wasn’t talking, I followed it up with, “I haven’t told anyone yet, but I can give the police a call and tell them what I saw, unless you’d rather?” I looked Claire in the eye so she knew I meant business.

  “Fine, I know I shouldn’t have run, but I panicked. Mr. Aldrich? Well, he was very angry the last time I saw him. I just assumed the worst.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “Rupert Aldrich?” Claire looked at me like I was a simpleton. “DSC’s CEO?”

  “Ah, that Mr. Aldrich. I can see why you’d want to get out of town for a bit.”

  “I thought DSC was my dre
am job, and now I’m not so sure. Even if this all plays out okay, the work environment is just so toxic.” With the CEO going around threatening employees and possibly covering up a murder? Yeah, I could see that.

  “What did he say exactly?” I thought back to his conversation with Sterling and wondered if he had also threatened Claire. “Did he approach you about anything?”

  “I shouldn’t be telling anyone. I’m sorry. Forget what I said.” Claire looked around as if checking for anyone who had overheard our conversation.

  I dropped my voice in response. “At least tell the police, seriously. Regardless if he’s your boss or not.”

  Claire had the most cynical expression on her face. “You don’t understand how this industry works. I’m not about to get black-balled when my career is just taking off. If I walk away, it’s going to be on my terms, and not because I caused a scandal. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go.” Claire snatched up her towel, sending a cloud of sand in my direction. I shielded my eyes and let her walk away.

  I lay on the beach for a little while longer and absorbed what I’d just learned. Thinking back on the conversation with Claire, I felt that her responses were genuine and that she definitely didn’t kill Sterling, probably not Marissa either. Even if she did really want the job, and Marissa was as horrible to her as she had claimed. Maybe it was a whole southern belle thing, but it seemed Claire had a strong moral compass.

  I could’ve stayed on the beach all afternoon, and debated doing so, but eventually my work ethic kicked in and I felt the need to stop by my store before picking the detective trail back up again. Of course, this had nothing to do with the fact that Finn still hadn’t called or texted me. I was about to pack up when I looked over my shoulder and swore I saw Cee Cee Thomas not more than fifty feet behind me. Maybe it was a total coincidence. Maybe the entertainment reporter was covering the pro volleyball tournament. Or maybe, the woman was as eager as I was to solve this case. I could’ve approached her right then and there to ask, but if I was totally wrong, I didn’t want to give her any ideas. Although, she could be a source of information down the road. She knew the ins and outs of Hollywood far more than I did. I pretended that I hadn’t marked her and took a couple of extra minutes before packing up and leaving. She never approached me and I considered that a good thing, for now.

  8

  I popped into the store and found Izzy rearranging the front display. I smiled, thankful for her creative spirit. She had a knack for design, so I had no problem leaving the task to her. In fact, she had a way with a lot of things, a gift she attributed to her psychic intuition. I personally thought she was just a people-person. Much like the way she designed the layout of the store, Izzy’s look and style were all her own. Her curls? Natural. The black hair color? Not so much. And her lavender-colored eyes were something out of a novel. Somedays, I’d swear her eyes were blue. Other days, they were gray. But most of the time, they were lavender and completely natural. Some people wore mood rings, but Izzy didn’t have to. I could tell her feelings just by looking at her eyes and, right now, they were a stormy gray.

  She whisked over to me and wrapped me in a giant hug. “Sweetie, I have no idea what happened to you, but your aura is all murky.” She held me at arm’s length to confirm. I looked down at my hand and saw the same tanned skin as always. “And the look on your face? Well, you have me feeling downright depressed. You need to sit down.” I insisted that I was perfectly fine, but Izzy wouldn’t hear it. She led me back to my office and ordered me to take a seat at my desk. I heard Izzy holler out to Margaret to hold down the fort and come find her if she needed anything. She turned to me with a raised brow. “Now, spill it.”

  I had no idea where to start, but I knew it would do me no good to lie. I wasn’t sure how much I believed in the whole psychic-intuition bit, but nothing got past Izzy. I sighed and it all came tumbling out, seemingly as one long sentence. “Girl, I don’t even believe it, but somehow I found myself smack dab in another murder investigation. And to top it off, I found out Finn is taking a job in Tampa, and he wasn’t even going to tell me about it.”

  “He did not.”

  “He did. I drove back from Tampa by myself last night, in a rental car, and spent my morning interviewing a murder suspect. Speaking of the car, can you help me return it later?”

  “Consider it done.”

  “Okay, so why aren’t you freaking out with me?”

  “Well, I may have seen this all coming. Sort of. When I looked at your chart last week, I saw you were headed into some relationship drama, but it looked like it would clear up on its own.”

  “So, you thought it best not to tell me?”

  “Right. I didn’t think you wanted me all up in your personal business. You only asked me to keep an eye on your professional business.” She circled her hand out and around in presentation of the store.

  “And the dead bodies?”

  “That part I did not see coming. You somehow managed to defy the cosmos, but honestly, I’m not surprised with you being you.”

  “Gee thanks,” I said, and then I thought about something. “Is there some type of exorcism or something I can do to get rid of this morbid quirk I’ve picked up?”

  “Hmm, good question. Let me look into it.” I knew if anyone could find a way to right my karma, it would be Izzy.

  “Thanks. Until then, I think I need to head back to Tampa to sort out a few things,” I said.

  “Go for it. I’ve got everything under control here. The store’s doing fabulous, and Margaret and I can manage it another day or two.”

  “Thanks, girl. You’re an absolute life saver.” Izzy’s eyes softened a little. They weren’t quite lavender yet, but the storm had blown over.

  “As for you and Finn? Don’t worry about it.”

  I started to protest.

  “No, let me tell you, Mercury is retrograde. All areas of your life get a little wacky when that happens, especially communication. I bet all that you have here is a communication issue.” Hmm, I thought all I had here was a deceitful boyfriend.

  “I’m serious. Last time Mercury was retrograde, I tried setting up a wire transfer to London and it ended up in Bangkok.” I raised my eyebrows at that. Izzy shrugged her shoulders. “Gotta love Mercury.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Here, hang on just a second. Izzy grabbed her purse off my door’s back hook and fished around inside, retrieving a smooth pink stone. “Take this.” She pushed the palm-sized crystal into my hand and closed my fingers over it. I could’ve sworn I felt the little bugger vibrating in my hand. “This will make you feel better, raise your energy a bit. Maybe even give you a little more clarity.” I put the stone in my pocket and had to admit that I did feel a bit better. Whether that was all in my head or not was yet to be determined.

  “Thanks, girlie.” I gave my New Age friend a hug and prepared to leave. “Oh, and by the way, when does Mercury right itself again, or do whatever it’s supposed to do?”

  “About a week and a half.”

  I wrinkled my nose. I was hoping it was more of a 24-hour thing.

  I drove back home mostly in a daze, and I don’t think it had anything to do with the murder investigation or Finn, but more due to utter exhaustion. The drive from the night before, paired with my basking in the sun, had drained me. I thought I could grab a few winks once I got back home, but it wasn’t happening. I lay on my bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling as the wheels in my head spun wildly. I grabbed my phone off my nightstand and opened the note-taking app and started making a list of suspects. I didn’t know anything about Marissa’s family or her past, other than she’d been planning to get a divorce. I put “divorce” in bold, deciding that angle warranted some serious investigating. I also didn’t know anything about Sterling, other than he had an impressive on-air career. Next to his name, I typed “family?” “spouse?” “friends?” and wondered who I could contact for more information on those matters.

  Finally, there
was good old Tess. I prayed Detective Blackwell was considering her. Last I’d seen, she was two sheets to the wind, or maybe I should say two martinis to the wind. What could’ve caused the Queen of the Daytime Shopping Channel to fall off her throne? I wrote the answer next to it: “Marissa and Claire.” Tess had to be feeling some pressure with the new girls being brought on board. If Marissa was about to take over the prime-time segment and bring an end to Tess’s reign, that sure gave Tess one heck of a motive to kill her. And if that was the case, Claire should be looking over her shoulder as well. I probably would’ve gotten out of town too.

  Then I wrote: “charity gala.” How many people had been invited? How could I get a peek at the guest list? I wrote Cee Cee’s name next to it. She would probably know or could find out. Tess had been there. I’d seen her in that shiny red number. So had Sterling, Claire, Skip the Producer, and all of their dates. I wondered if Marissa’s husband was also present. Yet another question Cee Cee would know.

  Next, I questioned what time Marissa had been murdered. I was certain the police had an estimated time of death, fat chance of them sharing that with me though. Knowing that answer would tell me whether the gala had kicked off yet, and if all the guests were, in fact, suspects. Any one of them could have murdered her, or none of them at all, but rather someone who used the event as a distraction to sneak in, much like I did. Security had been lax, for sure. I never saw anyone of authority until I called the police.

  I thought more about how Marissa had been murdered—stabbed in the back—and pondered its significance. Had the killer been trying to send a message? One thing I knew for sure, it took a lot of anger to stab someone to death. I had a feeling this wasn’t a premeditated murder, not with the fact that she’d been killed with an object that was left on set. No, this seemed to me like a crime of passion, which brought me back to her husband, and possibly even Tess.

  I closed my eyes and pictured the details of the scene. I didn’t recall seeing any signs of struggle. Nothing had been broken—no overturned tables, or anything of that nature. Her up-do was smooth and her dress was flawless. What’s more, Marissa still had her heels on. If she had fought or tried to run, one or both of her heels would’ve come off in the chaos. I’d almost bet money that there had been a confrontation and she turned her back on her attacker, never suspecting harm.