by Sandi Scott
“I’ve never been a fan of the baklava,” Georgie muttered.
“Me neither. But it’s always on a sweets table. I wonder why?” Aleta added before they were joined by a couple of people from Cole Ness’s gang.
“Ugh, what are they feeding? Barn animals?” one woman groaned. “I wouldn’t feed any of this to my dog.”
“No kidding. It’s like we’re at a high school prom or something,” a very feminine-looking man scoffed. He looked at Georgie. “I love your hat.”
“Thank you,” she said politely as the man pulled out his phone and turned to walk away.
“What a group.” Aleta recoiled in disgust. “If it weren’t for them at Cole Ness’s booth, I’d say these have been the nicest people I’ve ever met.”
They helped themselves to two small plastic cups of white wine and continued walking through the event. That was when Georgie noticed a man who looked like he didn’t belong. He sported a well-trimmed beard, but his hair on top was shaggy, and at some point in time, someone had told him that suit pants looked good with a tucked in superhero T-shirt. Georgie was mildly surprised to see that he was wearing a Nuclear Wolf T-shirt as he slipped behind the buffet table and began fixing himself a plate.
Georgie elbowed Aleta and nodded her head at the man. They both casually watched him as he shoveled food quickly into his mouth, his eyes darting back and forth like he was looking for someone he might know.
“He looks very nervous,” Aleta said as she bit into a tiny slice of cheesecake.
“He does. This cheesecake is good. Have you tasted the brownie yet?”
“No. But even a bad brownie is a good brownie,” Aleta said while Georgie nodded in agreement.
Just then a security guard came over to the table, looking at the food and not paying attention to anyone in particular. But as soon as the man in the beard saw the guard, he hurried away.
“Should we say something?” Aleta asked.
“I don’t know. He certainly was acting weird.” Georgie licked her fingers. “Better safe than sorry.”
But just as they were about to approach the convention center security guard, there was a loud yell from the back of the pavilion.
“This is a closed event!” someone shouted.
“I have every right to be here! Nuclear Wolf is my character! Cole Ness knows it!” Georgie and Aleta quickly filled their plates with more sweets and headed off toward the commotion.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave!” a different security guard said, motioning for the man in the beard to head towards the door.
“You’re a thief, Cole Ness!” the man shouted, bringing the whole place to a standstill. “You know that was my idea! You’re a thief.”
Georgie looked over at Cole Ness, and he was blinking madly while shaking his head. Some body language experts might say that was a sign of guilt. Others would say it was a sign of anger. Georgie kept watching him instead of the guy making the scene.
“What’s going on, Dell?” Cole ripped into his sidekick. “I thought you said you got a restraining order against that guy. This doesn’t look like a restraining order to me.”
“Those things take time to go through, Cole. You know that.” Dell slipped his hand around Cole’s bicep and pulled him to the corner of the booth closest to Georgie, but furthest away from his entourage. “And when you order one every couple of days for a different person, the cops aren’t that eager to believe you anymore.”
“Get that restraining order moving. Or you’ll find one issued on yourself.” Cole yanked his arm away and stomped off to join his adoring groupies and yes-men.
“What a jerk,” Georgie said with a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie before taking a sip from her plastic glass. “This wine is very good.”
She and Aleta watched as the man with the beard was yanked and pulled away from the main area. His feet were almost off the ground as he was shoved unceremoniously out the door by two guards. They pulled the heavy doors shut with a bang, dusted off their hands, and smiled proudly, conversing quietly with each other.
“Dinner and a show,” Aleta joked.
After things had settled down, the Cole Ness party offered no apology for the interruption, and a DJ set up a small table with a computer on it that was hooked up to two large speakers. Within seconds, some pleasant bossa nova tunes came floating out of the big black boxes, and people really started to relax. The bottles of wine were being emptied, and the food was being quickly devoured. Even the snobs who had turned their noses up at everything at first were now happily devouring as much food as they could get their hands on.
Aleta had gone to get a bottle of water when an older gent wearing blue jeans and a sci-fi T-shirt beneath a plain blazer started chatting her up. Whatever he was saying, Georgie noticed that Aleta looked to be enjoying herself as she laughed a lot.
Georgie was happy to float along and study the artwork of the other artists while they were busy eating and networking. Some of the work was very beautiful and showed years of practice and study. Other artists kept things simple and almost sticklike, but Georgie didn’t criticize. Not everyone can be a Michelangelo. Not that she thought she was. There could be only one Master, and he was it, in her humble opinion. But if a man drawing stick figures pulled the readers into his stories, then good for him.
She came across some fan jewelry she had to buy and received more than one compliment on her tentacle hat. As she was standing in front of a mirror seeing how she’d look in a perfect replica of a rubber trench coat from the movie Data, she saw Cole Ness away from his group with a very pretty girl at his side.
The girl looked like she was crying. Georgie leaned over as far as she could to listen without being obvious.
“Look. You see what kind of people I have to deal with,” Cole said gesturing toward the doors the bearded man was tossed out of. “Do you really think I have time for your bull?”
“My feelings are not bull,” she said sobbing.
“My feelings are not bull. My gosh. You are an infant. Just listen and do as I tell you,” he hissed.
“But, Cole . . .”
“You’re not listening, Tabitha.”
“Cole, I just want you to listen to me.”
“We aren’t talking about me, Tabitha; we’re talking about you not listening. Again you are not listening.”
It was a horrible exchange, and Cole seemed to be enjoying himself. The more this Tabatha woman cried the more inflated his chest became. Georgie took off the jacket and hung it back on its hanger without saying anything. She was going to approach the arguing couple and at least give the poor girl a chance to catch her breath. Georgie wasn’t afraid or enthralled by Cole Ness.
But before she could, Cole stormed off, leaving Tabitha looking like a wallflower left all alone on the dance floor.
“Can I show you anything else?” The girl at the booth interrupted Georgie’s train of thought.
“No. I love the jacket, and I might circle back for it. But I’m going to look around a bit more.” Georgie smiled pleasantly.
“Sure,” the girl said without a worry. “We’ve got a couple of these, and I don’t see anyone in this crowd with the guts to wear it but you. If you come back, I’ll be happy to knock ten percent off the price.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Georgie went to find the girl Cole Ness had called Tabitha, but only caught glimpse of her slipping down a service hallway and out of sight. She probably needed a moment to collect herself. No one wants to be at a party looking like they have been crying and then have a dozen people ask if you are okay. Is anyone who is crying ever okay?
Georgie decided to go find Aleta and get her opinion on the situation. Maybe her sister would tell her to mind her own business. Or maybe she’d say Tabitha needed a friend. Or maybe she’d be too busy still chatting with the fellow with the blazer.
It made Georgie feel good that her sister appeared to be having fun. Not wanting to interrupt just yet, Georgie meandered towar
d the table with the wine and grabbed herself a plastic cup of red. Just as she was about to turn around, she saw the bearded man who had been escorted out of the mixer just a short while earlier.
Where has he come from? Georgie wondered to herself. And how did he get back in?
Georgie watched him disappear down one of the aisles and presumably out some back service entrance or into a maintenance hallway.
“I’ve got to tell Aleta,” Georgie mumbled to herself. She hated to interrupt her sister, but that bearded fellow was weird, and he had been thrown out earlier. She didn’t think he had a bomb or anything, but maybe he was more dangerous than he appeared.
“Aleta?” she called as she hustled toward her sister. “Aleta!”
Aleta turned around and smiled, waving Georgie closer.
“This is my sister, Georgie. Georgie, I’d like you to meet Phil Rodney. He’s a writer,” Aleta said pleasantly.
“Hi, Phil.” Georgie pumped his arm quickly. “Can I borrow Aleta for one second? I promise to bring her right back.”
“Of course,” Phil said.
“What’s the matter?” Aleta asked as Georgie pulled her just a few steps away from the small round table for two that she and Phil had been chatting at. Georgie took a deep breath and told her about seeing the bearded man scurrying out the other end of the convention center.
“What do you think? Should I tell security?” Georgie asked.
“I think that might not be a bad idea. He might have just come back in for spite, but you’d rather be safe than sorry. I’d tell,” Aleta said.
“I think you are right.” Georgie scanned the crowd and saw the security guard who had originally tossed the bearded man out of the mixer. Just as she reached him with Aleta holding her arm tightly, there was a loud ear-piercing scream from the other end of the pavilion.
Georgie looked to Aleta and saw her eyes nearly pop out of her head with surprise. Both of them headed in the direction of the scream and saw that a crowd was starting to form around the sign pointing toward the restrooms.
“Oh my gosh.” Aleta put her hand to her chest. Just then Phil came up behind her.
“What happened?” he asked.
“I’ll go take a closer look,” Georgie said. She left Aleta with Phil and ducked behind the nearest display booth that held stacks and stacks of graphic novels dating back to the 1960s. The shelving units there gave her the chance to move quickly without being seen instead of trying to push through the crowd of vendors that had encircled the area. A woman leaning against the wall was shaking and crying, and Georgie could just make out a man on one knee in front of her. The thought occurred to Georgie that maybe the man had proposed and been turned down. Everyone seemed too upset for the answer to have been yes.
For a second, Georgie didn’t see what was lying on the floor. It was as if her mind just wanted to glaze over it, fuzz it out like faces of people who didn’t want to be recognized on television. Finally, her mind put it all together, and she realized to her dismay that the scene before her had nothing to do with a proposal. Instead, there was the body of a man lying on the floor, while the man on one knee was trying to find a pulse. Another man stood close by with his cell phone to his ear as he paced back and forth.
“What happened?” she heard someone gasp.
“Who did this?”
“Why would anyone want to do such a thing?”
“This is crazy?”
Georgie managed to creep up behind the mass of people and peek around the corner. Down the hallway, she could see a body lying on the floor. Not only had someone collapsed, but there was a huge circle of blood was spreading along the white linoleum.
“Who is it?” She asked no one in particular.
“It’s Cole Ness,” a bald man with a big belly and glass of wine in his hand replied. He tossed the last of the drink back and stared at the gruesome scene.
Georgie’s mouth went dry. If she had told the security officer she’d seen the bearded man running away, she might have been able to prevent this. Sure, her first meeting with Cole Ness wasn’t a pleasant one, but being rude was not a good enough reason to be killed. Not like this.
“What happened?” Georgie asked.
The man with the wine shook his head. It seemed as if no one knew what was going on except for the people in the hallway. Georgie approached the frightened woman and put her hand on her shoulder. She let Georgie lead her out of the hallway away from the gore and horror. “Come on, dear. You’ve seen enough. What is your name?”
“Lucy.” Her voice shook like her body did. She was dressed as some kind of mistress of the night with a tight black dress and long black fingernails. “I was just going to the bathroom and found him like that.”
“It’s all right, Lucy. The police will be here any minute.” Georgie soothed Lucy. “Did you know him?”
“Cole Ness? No, I didn’t know him. I didn’t want to know him. I heard he went through women like they were paper napkins. But I don’t think he should be killed for it.” She started to cry.
“Of course not.” Georgie held Lucy’s hands. “You need to just relax and breathe.”
Suddenly, Aleta appeared, having taken the same discreet route Georgie had. Quickly, Georgie told her what happened and introduced Lucy.
“You poor thing.” Aleta soothed her. “It’ll be all right.”
“Lucy, did you see anyone? Hear anything before you found the body?”
“No.” She shook her head, her wavy red hair bounced around her face. “I just went to the bathroom. It took me almost ten minutes because I’ve got a body slimmer on underneath this dress.” She patted her flat tummy. “I was adjusting it as I rounded the corner. I nearly stepped right over him because I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts. Until I saw the blood. So much blood.”
She started to cry again, and Aleta patted her gently on the back.
“Come on. Let’s get you out of here and into the light. Georgie, I think a glass of wine might do Lucy some good.”
“I agree.” Georgie let go of Lucy’s hands as the three women started to make their way out from behind the wall of vendors’ displays. Once back among the display booths and vendors, it was obvious no one was interested in the cocktails anymore. Almost everyone was at the entrance to the hallway where the body was, hoping to satisfy their morbid curiosity.
“Stay here, and I’ll get some wine.” Georgie fully intended to get them each a glass when the police, paramedics, and one all-too-familiar face came bursting on the scene.
Chapter 6
“I should have known,” Stan said as he walked in and immediately saw Georgie. “I knew you’d figure out a way to get me here.”
“Oh, Stan. This isn’t funny. I’ve got to talk to you.” Georgie looked up at him.
“Okay, Georgie.” He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at her with concern. “Let me secure the scene, and then we’ll talk. I like your hat.”
Georgie instinctively touched her tentacle hat and smiled half-heartedly. The guilt she felt for the possible role she could have had in this murder made her stomach flip. She was attempting to balance three glasses of wine in two hands before she headed back to Aleta and Lucy, but Lucy was already talking to one of the uniformed officers. She didn’t need any wine while she gave her statement regarding what she had seen.
Aleta was still standing next to Phil and waved for Georgie to join them.
“I see Stan is here,” she said, taking one of the cups of wine.
“Yeah. Oh, Aleta. What have I done?”
“You haven’t done anything, Georgie. You were about to tell security what you had seen, but chances are if that man killed Cole Ness, he had already done it by the time you saw him.” Aleta soothed her sister before taking a sip of her wine.
“I suppose. But perhaps they could have caught him, and there would have been no reason for a long-drawn-out thing.” Georgie squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m going to go see if I can get a few more details.”
>
Just as Georgie took a couple steps in the direction of the crowd the police were dispersing, she was nearly knocked to the ground by a disheveled and angry Dell.
“Get out of my way!” he said, whining as he turned to face Georgie before darting off. Georgie noticed that his shirt was partially wet, and there were streaks of dirt on it. What had he been doing? Where was he going?
Dell stomped toward the police, trying to burst his way across the line of blue, but the uniforms quickly stopped him. He had a mini tantrum, pointing and slapping his chest, getting out his phone and pounding out whatever number he thought he could call on the police.
Georgie rubbed her shoulder where Dell had bumped her, walked past him up to a big mountain of a police officer, and tapped him daintily on the shoulder.
“Georgie.” He smiled broadly, showing the gap between his front teeth.
“Hi, Mosey.”
“You need to see Stan? He’ll be done in about half an hour,” the cop said while he kept an eye on anyone getting too close to the police line.
“I saw him. He knows I’m here. Hey, can you give me the 411 on what happened?”
“Someone didn’t like this fellow,” Mosey said in a low voice as he lowered his head about six inches to speak quietly to Georgie. “Had his skull beaten in.”
“What does your gut tell you?”
“Well, if I were a detective, I’d be looking for either a really strong man or a really mad woman.” Mosey winked.
Georgie remembered Tabitha. She looked to where the maintenance hallway was that Tabitha had slipped down, and it was just a matter of feet from the hallway to the restrooms.
“I never thought I’d find someone like me blessed with beauty and brains. But here you are, Mosey.”
“I promise I won’t tell Detective Toon you’re flirting with me.” The big man grinned at her.
“Go ahead. It’ll keep him on his toes.” She padded his broad blue chest. “You be careful. I’ll see you again at the station.”
