Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2

by Stephanie Damore

  “Veronica has issues with men in general.”

  That got an eyebrow raise out of me. “Does she now? Did your source by chance say who Melanie’s father was?”

  Shelly nodded her head. “Some Russian ballet dancer. That’s all they knew.”

  “Well, do you mind sharing with me what you find out? I’m still trying to track down Zane.” Finn hadn’t text me since I left. I assumed that meant he had struck out in his search.

  Shelly snorted, causing her glasses to slip down her nose. “I’m sorry. Good luck with that one.”

  10

  I was right. Finn had come up empty and was watching Sports Center instead when I called him.

  “Hey, I talked to that reporter girl again and found out some more information on Veronica,” I said.

  “Anything good?”

  “Possibly. I want to go back to Melanie’s salon and try to confirm some of the details.”

  “Okay, just give me five minutes and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  “NO!” I shouted into the phone. “I mean you can’t.” Oh crud. Here I was blowing off Finn again. I had to tread carefully. “It’s just, that’s where the wedding dress is. I don’t want you to see it.”

  Finn’s tone changed immediately. “What’s the name of the salon again?” Finn teased.

  “You better not show up there!” I threatened. Finn was smiling on the other end of the line, I knew it. “This won’t take that long and we can still play tourist when I’m done. Promise.”

  I hung up with Finn and gave the salon a quick call to see if Gwen was in. She was with a client, but she was there. That was good enough for me.

  Ten minutes later, I walked into Melanie’s salon and my heart gave a little flutter. I wanted to see my wedding dress again so bad. Did I just call it my dress? Oh man, I had it bad. Before I could even go there, I had some questions to ask Gwen.

  Gwen was at the front desk, wrapping up some business with a client.

  “Can I help you with something?” Another consultant asked me. I recognized her from last night’s vigil.

  “No, I’m just waiting for Gwen.” At the sound of her name, Gwen turned her attention my way and gave a little wave. While she was finishing up, I set my sights on the shoe display. A pair of high-heeled, open-toed beauties caught my eye. With those babies, I might be a full five feet tall. Not to mention they were a perfect match for the dress. I was envisioning the complete look when Gwen walked over to me.

  “Aren’t those shoes amazing?” she asked.

  “They are. I might have to snag them on my way out,” and try to keep Finn from seeing them. I wanted my entire look to be a surprise.

  “I’ll have Kelly grab your size if you want to try them on.”

  “I would love to, but first, I was wondering if you had a minute to chat.” I leaned in closer. “About Melanie.”

  Gwen nodded. “We can chat in my office.”

  I followed Gwen to the back behind the reception area and down the hall to her office. It was straight across the hall from Melanie’s. I would’ve loved to peek in and see if the gorgeous gown was still hanging on the back of her door, but unfortunately, it was closed.

  “Come on in,” Gwen said. I took a look around. Whereas Melanie’s office had been full of binders, catalogs, and calendars, Gwen’s office was a designer’s workshop. The entire sidewall had been upholstered with a tufted gray fabric. Strands of pearls, lace, and fabric swatches of various textures, all in shades of white and cream, along with a dozen or so sketches, were pinned to it. Across from her desk sat a round table with stacked sketchbooks, pencils, pins, and a measuring tape. Just looking around inspired me. I hadn’t previously thought of it, but I was going to ask Finn about adding a designated workstation to our houseboat. The renovations were slow going, seeing as Finn spent most of his time on the water, but the improvements he had made were just how he had pitched it.

  I stopped daydreaming and sat down across from Gwen, who was seated behind her glass-topped desk.

  “How’s the store doing?” I asked.

  “It’s chaos, but we’re figuring it out as we go. The team has some ideas on how we can stay open and still honor Melanie’s work.”

  “I’d love to hear more about that.”

  “It’s in the early stages, but we have enough stock and Melanie’s designs to last us through the next year. After that?” Gwen shrugged her right shoulder. “We’re thinking about trying to continue Melanie’s style through our own designs. We all shared a common vision with Melanie, so we feel it should be something we can pull off. Hopefully. We thought of changing the store name to something along the lines of Bridal inspired by Melanie May, too. Not sure yet.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” I said.

  “It’s really the only one we’ve come up with. I’d rather not even have to think about it, but I would also hate to see all of Melanie’s hard work in creating this brand and company disappear.”

  “When you’re ready, let me know. I can probably help with the branding. In fact, that’s what I just presented on this morning at the women’s leadership conference. Let me know if that’s something you’re interested in.”

  “That would be wonderful. I’ll keep that in mind. Now what can I do for you?”

  “Well, I’ve picked up little bits and pieces about Melanie’s life from those who were close to her, like yourself. One of the things I’ve heard is that Melanie and her mom didn’t get along. I would’ve never guessed that from talking with her, though.”

  Gwen rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I’m sure Veronica was all about herself. Poor me. Poor Melanie. Why did this happen to her?”

  “Wow, that’s impressive and pretty much spot on.”

  “I’ve watched Melanie deal with her mom for years. To say they didn’t get along, well, that’s an understatement. Melanie tried, and I honestly feel that she deeply loved her mother, but it was one-sided. The only person Veronica loves is herself.”

  “Would you say she was jealous of her daughter?”

  “Absolutely. No question about it. Veronica always wanted the success that Melanie naturally achieved. I swear, she would go out of her way to hurt Melanie. Like publicly degrading her work or insulting her love life. You know that voice in the back of your head? The one that causes you to question yourself? Yeah, Melanie had one, a loud one, by the name of Veronica Mays.”

  “Sounds like the woman has issues.”

  “Big ones.”

  “Do you know anything about the lawsuit between Melanie and Veronica?”

  Gwen cocked her head. “Lawsuit? No, Melanie never said anything of the sort.”

  “Do you by chance know where Melanie got the money to open the store?”

  “No, not fully. Money was the only thing that we didn’t talk about. I know she had some interest from investors and she did receive a business grant from the city, but I never asked for the dollar figures.”

  “Okay.” I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice. I was hoping Gwen would know more details.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t involved in any part of that side of the business. Design? Yes. Money? No. The thought of bookkeeping freaks me out, but I guess I better get over it if we’re going to keep the salon open.”

  I tried to think of the best way to frame my next question. “Given what you’ve said, and based on what else I’ve heard, any chance Veronica would kill her daughter?”

  Gwen looked conflicted. “I would love to say no. The thought of that seems so horrific that I don’t want to even fathom it, but then I think about how selfish and greedy Veronica could be. If money was involved and somehow Veronica could benefit from Melanie’s death, then I have to admit it’s a possibility. As much as it sickens me to.”

  “I’m sorry, Gwen. We’ll figure this all out. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Ziva. How about we lighten the mood?” Gwen pushed off from her desk and stood up. “Do you want to try on those shoes?”

&nb
sp; “Oh, that reminds me. There’s something else I want to talk to you about. The dress.” This got Gwen’s attention. “I was wondering if we could make a deal. That is, if you could refund Lucia her money and make the dress available for purchase again?”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I had the idea during my morning branding presentation when someone asked me if I had any new products in the works. I’m just brainstorming here, but what if I created a bridal skincare line and gave your salon exclusive rights for the first quarter in exchange for the dress. Would you be interested in something like that?”

  “I’d have to run it by the team, but I’m definitely interested.”

  “I’d be happy to show you guys some estimated figures based on my past product launch. It would give you an idea of what type of revenue you would be looking at. It could easily be $100,000.”

  “With numbers like that, we wouldn’t dare say no. If the figures are as high as you say they are, you can consider it a deal.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have those figures sent over along with the preliminary contract for you guys to take a look at. Sound good?”

  “Definitely. I’ll get the team together and we’ll discuss it as well. I’ll also look into refunding Lucia’s credit card.”

  “Great. I’m scheduled to fly out on Wednesday night, but maybe I can meet with you guys before then.”

  “Okay, let’s tentatively plan on Wednesday morning?”

  “Sounds good. Now where are those shoes?”

  “Do you want to try them on with the dress?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  My plan had been to call Detective Hart and tell her what I had heard about Veronica. Then I would call Finn and have him meet me in the lobby and we could set out. Maybe we could do a zip-line adventure or something that he would love.

  I dialed Detective Hart’s number and was shocked when she answered immediately. “Hart,” she said by means of hello.

  “Hi, detective. It’s Ziva Diaz.”

  “Ziva, I was just going to call you.”

  “You were? Have you solved the case?”

  Detective Hart ignored my questions. “Tell me, was Lucia dead in her bedroom when you were at her house?”

  “What?! No, I swear to you she wasn’t. No one was home.” No one was home, right? My mind started racing. Had I overlooked something? Was Lucia in her house needing help and I ran the other way? Could the killer have been watching me? I looked suspiciously at the people walking around me.

  “Would you be willing to meet me at her house? I’d like to have you confirm a few details.”

  “I can do that. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” My hands were shaking when I hung up with the detective. I immediately called Finn.

  “Lucia is dead,” I said when he answered.

  Bless his heart, Finn handled the news better than I had. Must be a relationship hazard. He didn’t miss a beat.

  “The dress girl?” he asked. I had told Finn about Lucia’s twenty-thousand-dollar commissioned dress, leaving out the minor detail that it was also the dress that I had fallen in love with.

  “Yep, that’s her. Detective Hart is at her house right now. She asked if I could meet her there. I told her I would.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “I just left Melanie’s salon. I’ll be back to the hotel in a minute. Meet me in the lobby?”

  “I’ll head down now.”

  “Thanks, babes.”

  11

  “You and Aria were here once already?” Finn eyed the seedy neighborhood out of the cab’s back window. You knew the area was bad if he was nervous. I pointed up the street to where Lucia’s house was even though I hadn’t needed to. The crime scene van backing out of the driveway was a dead giveaway.

  The cab pulled up to the curb, and I tried to offer the driver an extra twenty bucks if he’d hang around for ten minutes and wait for us.

  “Not nearly enough, lady,” he replied, eyeing the van. Finn paid the regular fare and the man zipped off. We surveyed the house from the road.

  There’s a certain energy to crime scenes that I’ve come to expect, from the people going in and out of the house and the EMT on standby to remove the body, to the news reporters and nosey neighbors waiting to get the scoop. That last thought stopped me. I turned to Finn, “Notice anything unusual?”

  “Yeah, where is everybody?” he asked.

  “Where is anybody,” I corrected. The whole scene was way too quiet.

  Detective Hart was waiting for us. She stepped off the front porch and met us halfway up the driveway.

  “Quiet neighborhood,” I said to her when she greeted us.

  “Snitches get stitches,” she replied.

  “What?”

  “You don’t talk to the cops around here. They don’t see us as the good guys.”

  “Ah, I get it. You keep your mouth shut and you don’t get hurt.”

  “Precisely,” she replied.

  “Where’s the press?” Finn asked.

  “Press? They don’t cover homicides over here. No one does.”

  “Lovely,” I replied. I reached for Finn’s hand. I should’ve brought chocolate.

  “That wasn’t there,” I said, pointing to the symbol that had been spray-painted on Lucia’s front door. The graffiti looked like an upside-down pitch fork with thorns. It gave me chills and it was over ninety degrees out.

  “I didn’t think so. I figured you would have mentioned it if it had. What about the mess inside? You mind coming with me to take a look?”

  Mind? Yes, I did mind, but that’s what I was there for. “No, I’m good,” I lied. “Lead the way.”

  Detective Hart made Finn stay outside, which was understandable, but it made me a bit nervous. He looked completely out of place, standing in the middle of the driveway with his hands tucked in his pockets.

  Detective Hart must’ve thought so too. “Why don’t you stand over there close to my car. We’ll just be a couple of minutes.”

  Finn shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “Sure, why not?” and did as was suggested. I felt a pang of guilt. I shouldn’t have had him tag along. I should’ve waited to call him until after meeting Detective Hart.

  When we reached the top of the porch steps she turned to me and said, “I’d give my guys hell if they ever did what I’m about to let you do. Understand?”

  “Got it.”

  “Slip these on over your shoes, follow exactly where I walk, and don’t touch anything.” I did exactly as I was told even though I hated it. Authority figures and I rarely got along. “We’ve processed the scene, but I want to make sure we’re not missing anything. Seeing you were just here, we can sketch a before and after comparison. I’m not going to pass that up.”

  “Even if it is against protocol?” I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it. If she was going to boss me around, then I was going to remind her that she was breaking the rules.

  “That’s my judgement call,” Detective Hart said, trying to sound stern, but I saw the corner of her mouth turn up in a smile.

  She opened the front door and I walked in after her. “Is this how it looked when you were last here?”

  My eyes darted around the room, too quick to really catalog anything. I realized that I was waiting for the Boogey Man to jump out at me. Nervous energy, I told myself. Being in the same house with someone who was just murdered will do that to you. I relaxed my shoulders and surveyed the room, slower this time.

  What was different and what was the same? I asked myself. I closed my eyes to picture what the room had previously looked like. The same magazines, laundry basket, and high heels were scattered about, in addition to a coffee table that had since been turned on its side.

  “That table wasn’t like that yesterday.” Detective Hart nodded and made note of it.

  We systematically walked through the house, me making sure to walk exactly where Detective Hart had as I pointed out the small differences, l
ike the opened cupboard and knocked-over barstool in the kitchen. We walked into the bedroom last.

  “This is where her body was found,” Detective Hart said, motioning to the bed.

  If I hadn’t known that a woman had been murdered in there, I never would have been able to tell. The bedding tossed off onto the floor was the only evidence of the potential struggle.

  “What was the cause of death?” The lack of blood had me thinking that it wasn’t from a knife or gunshot wound.

  “Asphyxiation. With what is yet to be determined. The killer took the evidence with him.”

  Detective Hart was full of surprises. None of the detectives I knew would have answered that question, nor would they have invited me to a crime scene, or willingly accepted my help. I was starting to like Detective Hart.

  I stood with my back to the window and surveyed the room. “Those weren’t open,” I motioned to the closet doors across from the foot of the bed. Shoeboxes and papers littered the floor.

  “What about the dresser?”

  “It was like that,” I said, referencing the opened drawers. “But there was also a half-packed suitcase on the bed, along with a bunch of clothes and toiletries.” I didn’t see any of that anymore. “Did she have a car?” I wondered if that’s where the suitcase had disappeared to.

  “We’re looking into it. There’s not one in the garage.”

  I looked hard around the room, trying to spot if anything else was out of place. “Nothing else jumps out at me. I did only get to see the room from the window, so I might be missing something.”

  “No, that’s good.” Detective Hart was writing down some additional notes. “Why don’t we wrap up this conversation outside.”

  “I’m not sure how much help I was. Hopefully a little bit. My best guess is that she was ambushed when she came back home to get something,” I said as we walked out of the house.

  “You’re probably right,” Detective Hart said.

  “So, what, she was killed by a gang?” I pointed to the symbol on the front door.