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Watchin' The Detective: A Mystery Dinner Romance

Page 11

by Louise Hathaway


  “No. This is my real hair.”

  “How could you do that to yourself? I loved your hair.”

  “It’ll grow back. Besides, I donated my long pony-tail to the American Cancer Society. They are going to use it to make real-hair wigs for breast cancer patients.”

  “In that case, sorry I reacted like I did,” he says. She feels a tinge of guilt because she thought of cutting her hair before she’d learned that she could donate it. She only found that out after she made the hair appointment. It was hard to let her pony-tail go, but it’s for a good cause. She tells Joshua that she’ll see him later and heads off to the library. She hasn’t warned Nicole before-hand about her new look; so she can’t wait to see the look on her friend’s face.

  She walks up to the front door just as Nicole is unlocking it. At first, Nicole is in a Monday-morning daze and is on automatic pilot, once more going through the motions of her daily routine. Then, she sees her friend and lets out a little scream. Some of the patrons turn around and look at her.

  “Isabella!! What have you done?!”

  “I know; I know. You’re going to say that my hair was my one beauty.”

  “No I’m not. In fact, I absolutely love it!”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Really. How long have you been wanting to change your looks?”

  “Not until I decided to go undercover as an amateur-sleuth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Right now, I have to make an important call to the detective.”

  She already has his phone number speed-dialed into her phone, and makes the call. When he picks up, she says, “Detective. It’s Isabella.”

  “Isabella? C’mon. It’s Don.”

  “Okay, Don. I have some very important information about your case and I need to show you something right away. You’re going to be very interested. It’s a major development.”

  He tells her, “Hold on, Isabella. You’re going too fast for me. Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”

  When she tells him that she has a picture of Hamid on the night of the murder holding a gun, he tells her that he needs to see it right away.

  “Can you email it to me?”

  She wants to show him in person and she’s curious how he will react when he sees her new look. She tells him, “I have some other important news. Can you meet me here?”

  “Okay. Are you at the library?”

  “Yes. At the reference desk.”

  “Is now a good time to come?”

  It’s always a good time to come, her dirty mind thinks. Especially with you. Instead, she tells him, “Of course. This is a good time.”

  “Give me twenty minutes.”

  “Bye.”

  She looks at her friend and says, “He’s coming here.”

  “Oh, goodie! He’s such a nice piece of eye candy.”

  “He’s mine, remember? Besides, you have Joshua now.”

  “I’m just teasing.”

  Isabella tells her friend about all the things that have been happening in the last few days and how her visit to Karen Black’s house convinced her that she didn’t kill her husband.

  Nicole says, “What about the tete a tete she had with Hamid at the train depot?”

  “I think I may have misinterpreted their meeting. I think there’s more to the story.”

  “Be sure to tell the detective about what you saw there, though.”

  “Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Maybe you want to protect Karen?”

  “I’ll tell the detective everything I know.”

  “Good.”

  Isabella shows Nicole the picture on her cell phone and the two of them look at each picture again. Nicole zooms in on the picture and says, “That’s a gun alright. How come you’re just now noticing this?”

  “Last night, I got the idea of uploading the pictures to my computer so I could see them on a larger screen. And when I zoomed in on this one, I saw the gun.”

  “What made you take the picture in the first place?”

  “I didn’t take it. I think Joshua did. He was taking pictures with my phone that night. He must not have seen a gun either; otherwise, he would’ve said something.”

  “That’s true.”

  Isabella says, “When I first saw these pictures, I thought that they were shot accidentally. It’s a good thing I didn’t erase them.”

  “Good job, Nancy Drew. The detective is going to be very impressed.”

  They laugh and Isabella catches sight of him walking up to the library. She takes a deep breath and thinks, He looks great. Really great. Melt-in-your-mouth great!

  He doesn’t recognize Isabella at first. She has to wave at him.

  “Isabella! What have you done?”

  “It’s my new look. What do you think?”

  “I’ll let you know once I’m over the shock.” He looks around and says, “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Isabella says. She leads him out the back door and they walk towards the Plaza of Flags between the law library and the courthouse. There’s an empty bench in front of the law library and they both sit down.

  The detective says, “You had a picture you needed me to see?”

  “Yes. But first I want to tell you want I’ve discovered.”

  “I hope you’re not going to tell me that you contacted the family again.”

  “Well…”

  “Isabella. What have you been doing?!”

  “It was completely innocent. I was having dinner at Sarducci’s and I saw Karen Black there with Hamid.”

  “Really? What were they doing?”

  “He was holding her hand and she was crying.”

  “That’s interesting. Go on.”

  “Well, I noticed he was wearing cufflinks. There was a gas fire burning and it bounced off light from the cufflinks. That’s why I noticed.”

  “Okay. So?”

  “Well that’s a very important piece of information. I just want you to remember that.”

  “I will. I promise. Were you in your Marilyn Monroe disguise yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Aha! So you admit that you’ve changed your appearance because you wanted to go undercover and be a spy.”

  “You’re in a funny mood today.”

  “I’m afraid of what you’re going to tell me next.”

  “Well. I went to get a facial at Burke Williams, and I just happened to run into Karen Black in the Jacuzzi.”

  “You’re kidding? Did she recognize you?”

  “No. Because I looked like this.”

  “Did you know beforehand that she would be there? Maybe her sister told you something?”

  “I can see why you’re a detective. You’re good.”

  “So, you did know she’d be there.”

  “Well, I’m not going to lie to you.”

  “You’re getting too involved in this case, Isabella.”

  “I don’t think Karen killed her husband.”

  “Now, how in the world would you know that?”

  “She invited me to her house for dinner.”

  “Isabella!! Please tell me you didn’t go.”

  “I did.”

  He stands up. “Isabella, I told you to stay away. There are some scary people associated with that family. This isn’t a game.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I have to leave,” he says abruptly.

  “Wait. You haven’t heard the best part. I looked at some of the pictures I had from the night of the murder. I saw a picture of a hand holding a gun.”

  “What?!”

  “With cufflinks. Like Hamid was wearing at Sarducci’s.”

  “Where’s the picture?”

  “It’s on my iPhone. Luckily, I remembered to bring it with us.”

  “Let me see.”

  He looks at the picture and says, “Why are you just now noticing it?”

  �
�I didn’t see it until I brought the pictures up on my computer screen.”

  “I’ve just emailed it to myself. Do you have any other pictures from that night? I think I’d better look at all of them.”

  “You can have them all.”

  He emails himself all of them and says, “Isabella. I’m very upset at you right now. You deliberately ignored my warning. I’m trying to keep you safe. Please do not get any more involved in this investigation. Leave it to the professionals.”

  “Okay.”

  “I gotta go.”

  “So soon?”

  “We both need to get back to work.”

  He walks away from her without looking back. She feels like he’s just slapped her across the face and starts crying. Her heart is broken like a teenager’s.

  She walks back to work in a daze. One of the homeless men shouts, “Hey! Marilyn! Lift up your dress.” She gives him the finger and keeps walking. When the library’s director sees her coming into the library through the back door, she says, “Isabella? Are you wearing a wig?”

  “No. I cut off all my hair.”

  “Why?”

  “For charity.”

  “We’ll that’s a nice thing to do.”

  If she only knew the real reason, Isabella thinks. She starts sobbing uncontrollably and hugs the director. Her boss isn’t the “touchy-feely type” and disengages herself from Isabella’s hug. She tells her, “Why don’t you go lie down in the room of repose until you collect yourself?”

  “I think I’d better.”

  “Good girl,” the director says, and walks away.

  The room of repose (also called the chill room) has a comfortable leather sofa. Isabella comes here from time to time when the stress of her job starts getting to her. She lies down and tries to collect her thoughts: I’ve ruined everything, she lectures herself. I’ll never see him again. Why do I have to go overboard on everything? Why can’t I be normal like everybody else?

  Nicole knocks on the door and says, “Isabella, are you in here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yes.”

  Nicole sits down next to her and says, “What happened with the detective?”

  Isabella tells her that they got into a big fight and she doesn’t think she’ll ever see him again.

  Ever the optimist, Nicole tells her friend, “You’ll be seeing him again. I just know it. He likes you. I can tell these things.”

  “Oh, you can read people’s minds now.”

  “It’s just a sixth-sense I got.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Look at it this way,” her friend says. “When all is said and done, you come out ahead.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you got a beautiful Missoni dress and a gorgeous new hair style out of the deal.”

  “Only you would look at it like that.”

  “And that’s why you love me.”

  “That is why I love you,” she says, sitting up and giving her friend a hug.

  Nicole says, “Now, get up and wipe the mascara off your face. You look like a raccoon.”

  “My tears must have smeared it.”

  “You wouldn’t believe what you look like right now,” he friend says. “Scary.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “C’mon, Marilyn. Let’s show these people that we librarians can be smokin’ hot.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Isabella spends the next two days in a deep depression. Every time her phone rings, she thinks it’s the detective. She has the urge to go to San Juan Capistrano again in the hopes of seeing him at Sarducci’s, but knows better than that: he’d just accuse her of stalking him. She’s never felt so obsessed by a man and doesn’t like the feeling. Her concentration at work is less than zero and she’s making too many mistakes. She has to constantly tell herself, Focus! Focus! She tries to watch TV and read the paper, but nothing sinks in.

  When she comes home from work each night, she mixes herself a glass of Slimfast for dinner. It’s all she can keep in her stomach. I don’t like myself when I’m in love. What happened to the old Isabella? I think she disappeared with my old hair style.

  Whenever she’s in one of these moods, she goes back to all her old bad habits. She buys a pack of cigarettes and a six-pack of Sam Adams. When she gets home from the liquor store, she pops open a bottle of beer, lights up a Marlboro, and puts on one of her aunt’s records. Tonight, she listens to Elvis Costello’s “Punch the Clock” album from 1983. She plays his song, “Wish I’d never opened my mouth almighty,” over and over again. After wasting an hour or so listening to records, she draws herself a bath, lights some candles, and rests her head on the bath pillow. She closes her eyes and thinks once again about the detective. In her fantasy, she is wearing the white, Marilyn Monroe halter dress and it is Don’s birthday party. She sings, “Happy Birthday, Mr. Detective,” in her best imitation of the blonde bombshell who had sung to President Kennedy. Don loves it. He’s with all of his friends. All of them think, “What a lucky guy Don is to have such a sexy girlfriend!”

  *******

  On her morning walk to work three days later, she’s putting one foot in front of the other in her zombie-like condition, when she hears the newspaper barker standing in front of the courthouse shouting, “Mafia hit man charged in mystery dinner murder. Read all about it.”

  Isabella stops dead in her tracks and buys the paper. She stands in front of the courthouse scanning the article. I knew it from the first. It was that Hamid. She’s glad to see that Karen isn’t a suspect. In the back of her mind, she had been wondering if maybe Karen paid Hamid to do it. She can’t wait to show the article to Nicole. She wishes she could discuss it with the detective, but that train has left the station—never to return.

  When Isabella walks into the library and over to the reference desk, she sees Nicole reading the paper. Her friend says, “Did you see this?”

  “I haven’t read the whole article yet, but it looks like Hamid was the killer.”

  Nicole tells her, “He was a Mafia hit-man. Just like something out of the ‘Sopranos’.”

  Isabella reads the rest of the article and says, “So, Dean Black had gambling debts he wasn’t paying back.”

  “Yes. And even after he died, Hamid was still trying to get money out of Karen.”

  “That must have been why she was crying that day at Sarducci’s. I’m glad Karen had nothing to do with her husband’s death.”

  “Are you going to ever see her again?”

  “And tell her that I changed my appearance so that I could stalk her?”

  “I guess that wouldn’t go over very well.”

  “I feel sad because I like Karen and, under ordinary circumstances, would have liked to spend more time with her. She has a gorgeous house and is such a good cook.”

  “Well, you’ll just have to settle for me.”

  “You’re my number-one person and always will be.”

  “What about the detective? Are you going to call and congratulate him?”

  “No. My days of calling him are over.”

  “Maybe he’ll call you.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “Maybe he’s been waiting for the investigation to be over before he asks you on a date.”

  “What planet are you on?”

  “I’m just saying…”

  “Oh, well. At least I don’t have to think about who the killer was anymore. That was taking up too much space in my brain.”

  Nicole says, “You know, you were a big reason that the murder was solved. Your picture of the gun and Hamid’s cufflink must have been the turning point in the investigation. That’s a big success for you.”

  “Well, thanks for the Nancy Drew award. Time to get back to my real job.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Isabella sits in her kitchen contemplating what to have for dinner. She hasn’t been to the store lately and her refrigerator
looks like a science experiment. She rifles through the freezer and finds a frozen dinner that looks edible. Well, it beats going to the store, she thinks. She turns over the package and sees it’s sell by date has long since gone by. Dejectedly, she drops the frozen dinner into the trash and plops herself down at the kitchen table. From where she sits she can see the birds are devouring what’s left of the sunflowers she planted earlier that year. They seem so happy and oblivious to anything but eating. She wishes it could all be that easy. Just then her phone rings, which makes her jump.

  “Hello?”

  “Isabella? It’s Joshua. What’s up?”

  “Oh, not much. Just hanging out, you know.”

  “Well, Nicole and I were going out for some Thai and thought, well maybe you’d like to come along. Do you like Thai food?”

  “Oh, you guys are so nice. I’m pretty tired, though. I think I’m going to stay in tonight. Maybe another time.”

  “You sure?” Isabella can hear Nicole’s voice in the background begging her to come.

  “Nah. I’m staying in, guys. You two go out and have a good time. Let’s do something tomorrow.”

  “Well, OK. Uh, we could bring you some take-out Thai if you like? They do some killer ginger chicken.”

  “Next time, Joshua. Thanks anyways.” She’s beginning to get a bit annoyed with him. He won’t take no for an answer. She wants to just stay home tonight and maybe soak in the tub, away from everyone. She hears the call waiting beep in her phone, which angers her some more. Why don’t people just leave me alone?

  “Joshua? I’m sorry, but I’ve got another call coming in. You guys enjoy yourself and I’ll talk to you later, OK?”

  “Okay. Have a good one.” She hangs up on Joshua and then presses the call waiting button, ready to give the caller a piece of her mind. Probably someone trying to sell me something I don’t need!

  “Hello,” she says firmly and angrily.

  “Isabella? Is that you?”

 

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