Beauty Secrets Mystery Boxed Set 2

by Stephanie Damore

  “Yes. Let me double-check and I’ll get right back with you,” I said, turning and marching toward where I assumed the front offices were located.

  I may have started marching too fast because I swore at that moment Viktor started following me. Don’t look back, I told myself. Keep your eyes forward. Click, click, click, my heels echoed. Squeak, squeak, squeak, went the rubber-soled shoes behind me.

  The person’s breathing sounded heavy, just as I imagined Viktor’s would if he attempted to catch up to me. I couldn’t help it. I looked over my shoulder and crashed right into the man with the concession unit. Only this time he was exiting with the slushie machine. Gallons of blue raspberry syrup flew off the dolly and cracked onto the floor. My heel caught in the sticky mess and took me down with it.

  OOOF! I could feel the sugary goo seep through my shirt and down the back of my legs.

  “Ma’am, let me help you up!” the concession man said. I took his hand and allowed him to help peel me off the floor.

  “I’ll go get some help,” said the younger teenage boy who had turned out to be the one following me. He set down the television he had been carrying and ran toward the front offices.

  “I’m fine, really,” I said, eager now more than ever to get out there. “Let me dash into the bathroom to get cleaned up and I’ll grab some paper towels to take care of this mess,” I said. The concession man bent down and started to re-stack the dolly and I popped off my heels and walked down the rest of the hall, around the corner, and out the door before anyone else could stop me.

  18

  “Can you bring me down some clothes?” I asked Finn as I pulled up to the hotel.

  “Say what?” Finn yelled into his phone.

  “Syrup incident.” I took two seconds in the storage unit’s parking lot to debate stripping down or not. In the end, respect for the Mercedes and Aria won out. “I’m out front and hurry up. I can’t keep waving the valet away.”

  My hair still smelled faintly of blue raspberry, and my face had a stubborn blue splatter on it, but it blended in nicely with the cuts, so all-in-all I was only slightly a hot mess.

  “What are you up to?” I asked Finn while I towel dried my hair. He was sitting cross-legged on the bed. My laptop resting on his legs.

  “Hacking into Melanie’s email,” he replied. Not even looking up.

  “Wait, what?!” I dropped the towel.

  “Turns out you can in fact learn everything online.”

  “I thought we’d have to manually install spyware or pay your buddy big bucks to do that,” I said.

  “Not to hack email. I’ve learned that it’s freakishly easy to do.”

  I saddled up next to Finn on the bed. “What have you found out?” I asked.

  “Nothing Earth shattering. Here, take a look.” Finn turned the computer for me to see.

  He was right, there wasn’t much to look at. “Go to the next page.” Together we scrolled down the list. Coupons, forwards, industry newsletters, conference details.

  “What about that one?” I pointed to the last message on the screen titled “Contract.”

  See attached for the latest contract sent over. I said you’d take a look at it.

  -Lee

  “Who in the world is Lee?” I asked Finn.

  Finn clicked on the contact list and saw the sender’s full name was Lee Strauss. A quick Google search told us he was a local business attorney.

  “Click on the attachment and see what it says,” I said. We were doing just that when there was a knock on the door. I temporarily forgot about my disastrous state and opened it.

  Aria looked shocked. Vince looked slightly amused.

  “Sharpie accident” I said by way of explaining the blue on my face. Aria knew that was a load of baloney.

  “The pen is blue,” Vince said with a smile on his face, quoting Jim Carey.

  “Exactly,” I said. Now had they seen me thirty minutes before I showered the rest of the syrup away, it would’ve been harder to explain.

  “Are you still okay with going tonight?” Aria asked me.

  “Tonight? What’s tonight?” I asked.

  “Sorry, I forgot to tell her. Vince booked us the VIP experience at Cirque du Soleil. We don’t have to go,” Finn said, shutting the laptop.

  “Which one is it?” I asked.

  “The Beatles LOVE,” Vince replied.

  “Of course. I’m not surprised.” I looked over at Finn. He loved the Beatles. True story.

  “What time’s the show?” I asked.

  “It’s at 9:30. We were going to grab dinner beforehand,” Aria said, still trying to get a read on me.

  “I’m down with that. Aria, come help me pick something out to wear. Why don’t you guys have a pre-dinner drink,” I said to Finn.

  “I think I’m going to need a pre-dinner drink,” Aria said under her breath to me.

  Aria followed me out of the living room and around the corner to the master suite.

  “Sharpie accident?” she asked me incredulously.

  “Okay, so I had a run-in with a slushie machine while doing some recon work, but don’t worry, the Mercedes is clean.” Aria eyes went wide. Of course, that statement lead to further explanation.

  When I was done, Aria said, “So, he’s storing artwork at the unit? That’s not surprising.”

  “The typewriter too. Not storing it, but working on it. That’s important, I just don’t know why. Now seriously, help me find something to wear,” I said.

  I love getting dressed up. I seriously do. Especially when I’m hitting the town with my best friend and our hot dates. Finn dressed up is even hotter than Finn dressed down. He wore a pair of gray dress pants with a light blue shirt opened at the collar just enough. Black dress shoes and a black buckle were the only accessories the man needed. I had gone for a high-necked short black dress. I twisted my hair up and chose a pair of long sparkly earrings to distract from my blue-speckled and scratched-up face. My years as a Beauty Secrets Representative had served me well. I stared at my reflection and could barely notice the speckles or scratches. The look seemed to work on Finn anyway.

  “You look amazing,” he said.

  “As do you. You guys ready to go?” I asked.

  Cirque du Soleil is an experience right from the moment you arrive. The costumes and sounds, the music and performers, they all make you take a step back and say, wow! And that was only during the pre-show. Our tickets included a reception where we could mingle with other VIP guests and performers before the show.

  “Hi, welcome to LOVE. We’re excited to have you here.” The performer’s face was painted in shades of blue with crystals circling his eyes. The color matched his wide-striped bodysuit and fur coat. A silver-sequined top hat completed the look. I felt underdressed once more and certain that no one would notice my mess of a face.

  “First show?” he asked us.

  “For me, but I’m pretty sure these two have been to several,” I motioned to Aria and Vince, letting them take over the conversation.

  “How about I grab us a couple drinks?” Finn offered.

  “Sounds good, babe. Thanks.” I turned from Aria and Vince and surveyed the room, taking in all the intricate details of the performers’ costumes. The colors and textures were amazing. From the fabric-draped walls to the delectable hors d’oeuvres being served, everything had a certain flare to it. I could clearly see the overlap between Mr. Frederick’s designs and the theater. In fact, I saw the same mint-green floral print of one of his dresses on one of the performers. I started to wonder why Mr. Frederick left the theater. The bright patterns and bold colors seemed to match his style manifesto.

  The lights flickered above about the same time Finn returned and we moved off to find our seats.

  For almost an hour I was able to sit back, relax, and enjoy the glitz and glamour Vegas was supposed to be. Cirque du Soleil was said to amaze and it did. The imagery of sound was so superb that at times I was left speechless. The mashed
-up Beatles music was inspiring and the acts entrancing. The costuming, special effects, and set design were mesmerizing. Talk about witnessing a revolution well, a fantasy revolution, courtesy of the Beatles.

  When intermission came around it took me a second to realize what was going on.

  “Break time,” Finn said.

  “The show’s fantastic,” I said, surprised by how much I had enjoyed the first half.

  A private balcony and bathroom came with our show’s tickets, so we all headed that way for some fresh air.

  “Where’d the guys go?” I asked Aria when I realized they weren’t behind us.

  Aria pointed across the room. Vince appeared to be talking to his doppelgänger about business, no doubt, and Finn was talking to a man dressed in silver with a tea cup glued to the side of his head. We left them to their conversations.

  “Look at her costume. I love it.” It was a red-laced and pearled bodice with shimmery built-in iridescent wings that appeared whenever she fluttered her arms. The woman walked right toward us, so I took it as an opportunity to tell her so.

  “Your costume is gorgeous,” I said to her.

  “Thank you so much. It’s one of my favorites.” She fluttered her wings for added emphasis.

  “That is beautiful,” Aria added.

  “I’ll have to let my uncle know. He designed it.” It’s not every day that you get to meet the person that you had just impersonated a couple days before. Today was my lucky day.

  “Does your uncle happened to be Paul Frederick?” I asked.

  “The one and only. I’m going to miss working with him on these designs. Now that he’s obsessed with bridal, I don’t think he’s ever going to come back to theater.”

  “Why the switch? This costume seems so much like his personality,” I said.

  “He said he lost his muse and found it again with bridal. I’ve learned that you can’t argue with a creative genius.”

  “I guess that’s true,” Aria said.

  “He’s probably having a nervous breakdown after Melanie’s death,” Taylor added.

  I found that comment hard to believe. “I didn’t think the two were close. In fact, I heard they had a bit of a rivalry going on.”

  Taylor waved my comment away. “No, they reconciled a while ago. It was more the industry trying to hype up something that it wasn’t there. In fact, he just told me about a joint venture they were working on, a new label. Culture for the masses.”

  “Wait, she had a joint venture planned?” Neither Gwen nor Clarissa mentioned anything, but then again maybe they didn’t know about it. Gwen had said she stayed more into the design side of things. As for Clarissa, I didn’t see how being the store manager made her privy to Mr. Frederick’s business dealings.

  “I have no idea what’s going to happen to the label now,” Gwen said.

  “Have you talked with your uncle?” Aria asked.

  “No, but that’s the norm. He’s really good at unplugging.” Aria went on to say something about how good it was to do that every now and then. I wouldn’t know. I was too addicted to technology to take a break, which probably meant that I should.

  Taylor left us to get back to the show and the wheels in my head started spinning. Who wouldn’t have wanted Melanie partnering up with Mr. Frederick? Victor and Veronica were number one and two on my list. I was also thinking this was exactly why Melanie had found the courage to tell her dad to stuff it. The more financially independent she became, the less she needed his money. No money meant no control. I needed to get back to the hotel room and read that attachment to confirm, but I was betting that contract in Melanie’s email was between her and Mr. Frederick. I had to get back to the hotel and read it.

  I interrupted Finn’s conversation with the performer to tell him I was taking off. “I’ll come with you,” he said after I explained why.

  “No, stay. You’re really into the show.” I knew that if I had enjoyed it, he was in heaven.

  “But—”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m going right back to the hotel. Promise. I want to check out a couple of things online.”

  “It’s late.”

  “Is it ever late in Vegas?” I countered.

  “Good point.”

  “I’ll text you when I’m back in our room.” I kissed Finn on the cheek. “With any luck, I’ll have this case cracked by the time you get back.”

  Didn’t I say I was the ever optimist?

  19

  I was right about one thing. It was never late in Vegas. Crowds gathered around the Bellagio’s dazzling fountains as they performed their awe-inspiring water ballet. I slowed my pace ever so slightly to watch it myself.

  Next to me, a man turned a chunk of the sidewalk into a three-dimensional work of art. It looked as if the buildings were coming right up out of the ground.

  My phone buzzed in my purse and I stopped to check it out. A move that almost cost me my life. It was a text message with one word: Goodbye.

  “Goodbye? What in the world?” I looked at the number to see who it was from and didn’t see the lights drive up behind me.

  “Hey! Watch out!” Another woman shouted to me.

  I turned to see a set of wheels hop the curb and a car came racing toward me. Stunned, I stood there frozen, staring down the grill of a car that was set on running me over. Honda. That was the last thought I had before a man pushed me out of the way. My head smacked the cement and the lights went out.

  I woke up in the hospital. It turned out Finn was that man who had pushed me out of the way. Beatles fanatic or not, he told me he didn’t like the thought of me walking back to the hotel alone. Turns out he was right to be worried.

  “Sweet, sweet, sugar,” I said, touching the bump on my head. “Somebody get me some chocolate.” My eyes came into focus and I saw Aria and Finn at my side, a mixture of smiles and tears on their faces.

  “What in the world happened?” Even as I said the words I had visions of a car’s headlights shinning in my eyes before total darkness.

  “Hit the nurse light and let them know she’s awake,” Vince said. I noticed him for the first time, sitting in the side chair, chewing on his nails.

  I tried to slowly sit up. The throbbing in my head kept me down. “Was anyone else hurt?” I asked.

  “No, the driver seemed to take aim just at you,” Finn said.

  “What do you mean seemed? Didn’t they catch them?” The look on everyone’s faces told me they didn’t.

  “But they used the video footage from the Strip to track the car to the Fremont garage,” Vince said, getting up and coming to stand by Aria.

  “It was a Honda, right?” I thought of the emblem that came racing toward me.

  “It was,” Aria said.

  I thought of something else at that moment. “It was someone who had my number. They texted me right before running me down.” I looked around for my phone, but I had no idea where it was.

  “Who have you given your card out to?” Aria asked. Finn searched in the plastic bag next to my bed and pulled out my phone.

  I tried to think, but it made my head hurt. Who hadn’t I given it out too? “Detective Hart, Shelly the reporter, Gwen at Melanie’s boutique, Clarissa at Paul Frederick’s, Melanie’s mom and her sister. Not to mention the hundreds of people at the conference.” A stack of my business cards had been provided to the attendees along with my branding handout.

  “I’m not comfortable with any of this,” Vince said, interrupting my brain storming. I stopped and looked up at him. He was more of a nervous wreck than all of the rest of us combined.

  “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t be comfortable with any of this either,” I said.

  “The conference is over. I think we should go home,” he said.

  “I’m not leaving just yet,” I said to Finn. Finn nodded, knowing it would be pointless to argue. “Before you go back home, can I talk to Aria for a minute, alone?” I needed her help if I was going to pull my master plan off.
Hopefully she’d be game.

  The hospital kept me overnight for observation, releasing me the next morning after I passed a neurological evaluation and had a clean CT scan. By that time Aria and Vince were on their way back to Port Haven. Although Aria had a very special task at hand that she was thrilled to take on.

  “Did you hear back from Tasha?” Finn asked me as I laid comfortably in bed back at the hotel.

  “No.” In fact, I hadn’t heard back from Tasha or Irene. I was starting to lose hope. If we couldn’t put the pieces together with what information we had, then we were in trouble.

  Just as I was about to tell Finn that we might as well keep our evening flight, my phone rang. It was Tasha.

  “Sorry, it took me longer to get back with you than I’d like. I wanted to double-check that I was right before calling you back,” she said.

  “What did you find out?” I asked, sitting up in bed.

  “All of the paintings in the catalog are previously unknown works. I’m sure of it.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” I asked.

  “It means that somehow this art dealer of yours has either received an unbelievable windfall or he’s peddling forged works. Did he say how he’d come by the pieces?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to ask for an explanation yet,” I said.

  “You might want to, or better yet, call the FBI. This has art crime written all over it.” I wasn’t sure about calling the FBI, but Detective Hart was supposed to stop by in a little bit.

  20

  While Finn caught up on some sleep, I spent that time researching art crimes and how galleries like Studio One fit into the scheme. By the time Detective Hart knocked on my door, things were starting to make sense.

  “Come on in,” I said. For the first time in twenty-four hours I was wearing pants— well, if leggings counted as pants—and was even sporting some lipstick and eyeliner. I didn’t bother covering the bruise on the side of my face. Purple was always my color.