by Sandi Scott
“Oh. You must have heard him saying my name,” she said bitterly, blinking back tears.
Georgie tilted her head and looked more closely at the young girl. She wasn’t so pretty in the face. Her left eye was a tiny bit lazy, and her lips were thin. But she had the kind of figure that, had Stan been around, he would have said, “I hate to see her go, but I love to watch her leave.”
“I’m assuming you heard the news?” Georgie asked.
“That he was murdered? It’s all over the convention center and the radio and television. Well, I didn’t do it if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Georgie shook her head, but Tabitha didn’t give her an opportunity to speak.
“There are at least a dozen women who were more likely to bump him off than me. Heck, he had plans with at least two others that I know of, yesterday alone.” Tabitha swallowed hard. “Not including me.”
“Did you know him long?” Georgie finally interrupted.
“I knew him when he was a nobody.” Tabitha clicked her tongue and put her hands on her hips. “I knew him when he used to cry that his work wasn’t any good. We dated on and off back then. But as soon as he was discovered, well, he forgot about the people who were there for him when he was a nobody.”
“That happens sometimes,” Georgie offered, but the words rolled off Tabitha without effect.
“He’ll never do what he’d done to me to anyone else now,” she said with a snicker, looking past Georgie at the plywood, stretching her neck to see if there was anything she could see. “He deserved what he got.”
Georgie’s eyes widened as the young woman barely whispered those words. As if she had just woken up from a dream, Tabitha refocused on Georgie and pinched her lips tightly together.
“Did the police talk to you?” Georgie asked, trying not to sound confrontational. She obviously failed as Tabitha’s eyes narrowed, and she glared at her.
“Yes. Yesterday. I told them everything I know,” she spat out. “Did you talk to them?”
“I didn’t know the deceased. They have no reason to talk to me,” Georgie said straightening her spine and leaning forward just enough to indicate she wasn’t scared of Tabitha, even if her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. If Tabitha had been able to bludgeon a man who she obviously had feelings for, she’d have no problem stomping an older woman in a pirate costume that she didn’t really know.
“Aren’t you lucky,” Tabitha said before turning and walking away.
Georgie stood still, giving Tabitha the opportunity to put a good bit of distance between them. A person who insists they didn’t commit the crime when no one even asks them if they committed it is usually a pretty good suspect who may have actually done something.
She hurried to the food court to find Aleta already there. Aleta gave Georgie a stern look that she’d gotten many times from their mother while growing up. It said, Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.
Chapter 8
“I’m sorry.” Georgie shook her head as she hurried to the cream-colored Formica table for two. “You won’t believe who I ran into.”
“Maggie?” Aleta’s voice was dry.
“Oh my gosh, I almost forgot about her. How did you know she was here?”
“I ran into Stan in the hallway on my way here.” Aleta leaned back in her seat. “He was going to take a nap. Poor guy was up the entire night and said he was afraid he was going to have to interview the entire list of attendees at this convention.”
“Yikes. He could use a good six hours sleep, never mind a nap.” Georgie cleared her throat. “Please, don’t tell me Maggie was with him on her way to our room.”
“Eww. Like I’d let that happen.” Aleta shuddered. “No. He was alone. And he told me that she had given you a bit of attitude.”
“Just a bit.” Georgie held up her thumb and forefinger to make an inch. “I hadn’t heard anything about her for months. I thought they’d broken up.”
“They had. At least that is what Stan said. But Maggie told him she wasn’t the kind of woman to give up so easily.” Aleta folded her arms over her chest.
“Gack!” Georgie made a gagging motion with her finger. “Are we back in high school?”
“She might think so. Georgie, Stan is a good-looking, funny, and eligible man. I’m surprised it took this long for someone to give you a run for your money,” Aleta said. “Don’t get me wrong; my money is on you. But some girls just don’t play nice at the playground. Maggie seems like one of those girls.”
“I’m not scared of her. Besides, if she makes Stan happy, I would be a real witch if I stood in the way.” Georgie pouted out her lips.
“I don’t think she does make him happy,” Aleta replied. “I think she’s just one of those women who like drama. And now that she knows you’re here, I’ll bet she will find more than one reason to show up to talk to Stan.”
“We’ll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it,” Georgie said, standing up from the table. “I owe you coffee and an elephant ear.”
“Yes, you do. And what is this we business? I’m not Stan’s ex-wife. You are.”
“But we’re a team,” Georgie said over her shoulder.
Aleta laughed. When Georgie returned, they both took a few minutes to devour a few bites of the sweet pastry before they continued talking.
“So, what’s happening with Cole Ness, who was left a mess?” Aleta asked.
Georgie told her what she had seen in the blocked-off hallway and that she had run into Tabitha. When she repeated Tabitha’s comment about not having anything to do with Cole’s death, Aleta stopped chewing.
“That’s a peculiar thing to say.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Georgie replied. “And she was giving me a lot of attitude, like she had been tipped off by Maggie or something. Guilty people have the tendency to do that. At least that’s been my experience.”
“Maybe you should go wake up Stan. He might want to talk to her before she leaves town,” Aleta said before sipping her hot coffee.
“She was dressed up like a character from some show. I think she’s going to enjoy the rest of the event. She doesn’t have to worry about Cole being with anyone else now,” Georgie said with her mouth full. “Besides, if I go into that hotel room to wake him up, he’s going to have just one thing on his mind, and it isn’t Cole Ness.”
“Well, he is just a man.”
“Speaking of men, I better go say hello to Beau and Neesee. Perhaps they’ve heard something.” Georgie stood and straightened her black duster. As she did, an older man dressed as a space cowboy gave her a nod and a sly smile.
“Mornin’, ma’am,” he said with a grin.
“Morning.” Georgie smiled and quickly left Aleta finishing her coffee.
Passing by the Nuclear Wolf booth was like passing a flower shop. Adoring fans had placed bouquets of flowers, balloons, battery-operated votive candles, and teddy bears all over the place. There were notes written in big letters claiming undying love for the man and his work. Georgie was used to seeing this kind of attention displayed for someone like that princess killed in a mysterious car accident or even every year at Graceland on Elvis’s birthday. It was a little weird to see such a display here at the Wizard-Hero-Con.
Georgie spotted Beau alone at the Serpentius booth and walked over to talk to him. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully.
“Hey, Georgie. Can you believe all that?” Beau pointed toward the Nuclear Wolf display.
“Apparently, Cole Ness was famous. I wonder how many lives he touched with his work?” Georgie wrapped her arms around herself. “People just want to do something nice. Even if he wasn’t the nicest guy.”
“Between you and me,” Beau leaned closer to Georgie, “I don’t think anyone is really going to miss him. I can’t say I feel bad. I’m not saying he deserved it. But you can’t treat people the way he did and not expect to tick off your neighborhood psychopath.”
“You have a valid point, Beau,”
Georgie whispered back. “Hey, I heard some people talking yesterday as Aleta and I were leaving, and they said he stole the ideas for his characters. Is that true?”
Beau’s eyes became wide, and he nodded his head enthusiastically.
“I heard those stories, and a couple of them sound pretty credible to me. I’m not saying he stole the whole enchilada, but he certainly ‘borrowed’ some of the ideas from various sources and ran with them. The problem is that what Cole lacked in skill he made up for in shrewdness. I know, it isn’t right to speak ill of the dead, but there’s no other way to speak about him. Cole Ness was a jerk, and if he thought he could make a few bucks off making his mother cry, he’d do it.”
“We’re sure this isn’t just jealousy on the part of some of his acquaintances?” Georgie asked. “Maybe they expected to come along for the ride or have him put in a good word or something?”
“I’m sure there is a little of that,” Beau said, nodding as he arranged a fresh stack of graphic novels on his display table. “But everyone the guy ever knew? Everyone? I’ve only been in this business for a couple years, and I’ve never heard a kind word spoken about him. Sure, people know he’s a good artist, and the fans like his work. But anyone who knows him personally, they’ve never uttered one nice thing about his personality. Sure, the guy could draw, but there’s more to it than that. You of all people know that as well as I do. The whole situation with Cole Ness is really kind of sad.”
“Hey, Georgie,” Neesee said, bubbling with excitement as she came up carrying another box of novels in her arms. “Did Beau tell you that we’ve had to crack open our reserve boxes of inventory because the stuff is going so fast? I don’t know, but I think it is because of your design.”
Beau quickly blinked his eyes. “It’s true, Georgie. I had hoped to break even, but we’ve done so much better than that. Your picture of Hercules is so beautiful that I still can’t believe it.” Georgie was touched to see Beau’s eyes filled with tears again.
“He’s such a big softy.” Neesee patted her husband on the arm.
“I can’t help it,” he whined. “I’m just so grateful. Oh, and people have scarfed up your business cards, too. Do you have any more?”
“I do,” Georgie said with a smile. “They are over at the hotel. I’ll go get some and bring them back.”
“That’s great,” Beau replied with a smile.
“No one will ever confuse Beau with Cole Ness.” Neesee said Cole’s name as if she’d just bitten into a lemon. “Beau is not only a better artist, but also he’s grateful to his fans and generous to his friends.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek.
“I’ll get those business cards for you right away, Beau. Again, congratulations on such a successful show.”
“And it isn’t even half over yet.” Beau clapped before raising his arms high in the air and giving Neesee a double high five.
Georgie walked toward the doors just as they were opening for the general public. It was no use trying to fight the current of people pouring in, so she headed back to the food court to see if Aleta was still there. Somewhat to Georgie’s surprise, Aleta was right where Georgie had left her, only now Aleta was having what looked like a pleasant chat with Phil from the night before.
“Don’t be a third wheel, Georgie,” Georgie told herself under her breath. Even if Aleta wasn’t interested in anything more than a friendship, Georgie didn’t want to hover around like a busybody. Armed with cash in her pocket and a desire to spend, Georgie set out for the booth where she’d tried on the rubber jacket the night before.
Along the way, she saw some steampunk-style sunglasses she just couldn’t say no to.
“Did you make these?” she asked the proprietor, a man wearing a suit straight out of the 1800s that was adorned with miniature gadgets and gears along the lapels and leather straps accentuating the arms. His perfectly manicured handlebar mustache was waxed to a fine point at each end.
“I did,” he replied proudly. The sunglasses had round frames, and the lenses were mirrored. Instead of stems, they were held in place by a leather strap, and the frames were encased in rubber eyecups that were adorned with tiny metal studs and spikes.
“I must have them,” Georgie said, peeling back her eye patch and trying on the glasses. Looking in the mirror, she thought they were beautiful. She paid her money, and the young man put the glasses in a simple case along with a bottle of cleaner and a soft square of fabric to clean the lenses.
“Enjoy,” he said, tipping his top hat.
Georgie was so thrilled she almost skipped away from the booth. The thought of trying on her new glasses with that rubber trench coat was almost too much for her to deny. She headed to the booth she’d visited the night before but didn’t see the pretty young girl who had waited on her.
“Hi,” she said to a fellow wearing a T-shirt with a black widow spider on it. “I tried on a black rubber coat last night. Do you know if it’s still available?”
“No. I sold it about ten minutes ago,” he said. “I’ve got one in purple if you’d like to take a look.”
“Um, no. I’ve got a purple trench coat already,” Georgie said. “I’ll just look around. Thanks.”
The man nodded and went back to people watching. Georgie looked at the variety of T-shirts that had sayings and pictures ranging from funny to obscene to traditional. There were also drinking glasses with superhero emblems on them. Lots of toys and action figures. It was amazing how many things people could get with their favorite cartoon or movie on it.
Before Georgie could decide if she really wanted to take a look at the purple rubber coat or not, she was distracted by a familiar face in the crowd. It was the bearded guy who had been thrown out of the event the night before. She was just about to follow him when she heard her name being called.
“Georgie! Georgie Kaye!”
Georgie whirled around to see Maggie Hoffentop marching in her direction.
“Hi, Maggie,” Georgie said distractedly, trying to keep her eye on the bearded man.
“I want to talk to you.”
“Okay. How about we meet for a bite to eat after the event closes . . .” Georgie moved this way and that, keeping the man in view, but Maggie moved to block her line of sight.
“No. I mean now.” Maggie put her hands on her hips and glared at Georgie.
At that moment, the bearded man slipped down a crowded aisle, and Georgie lost sight of him.
“Urgh!” Georgie gritted her teeth and clenched her fist. “He went down that aisle.”
“I want to talk to you about Stan,” Maggie said.
“What about him?” Georgie was still thinking about the bearded man.
“I think it’s about time you accept the fact you two are finished and leave him to live his life,” Maggie said. This wasn’t the first time Maggie Hoffentop had confronted Georgie about her ex-husband.
“Is that so?” Georgie stood on tiptoes to peer over Maggie’s shoulder in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the bearded man, but the crowds were thick now, and he was nowhere to be seen.
“Look. He’ll never move on if he thinks there is a chance he might get back together with you. I can tell by the way you act and how you treat him that you don’t care about him unless you need something.”
“What?” Georgie blinked and focused all her attention on the woman in front of her.
“You can’t hide it. I’ve seen women like you before. You just love the attention.” Maggie continued to stare crazily, not flinching. Georgie was sure the woman hadn’t blinked during her entire tirade. “But I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not going to just throw in the towel. I know, that’s what you are used to, but it isn’t going to happen with me.”
“Maggie, I think you’ve had one too many cups of coffee this morning,” Georgie said softly.
“Go ahead and make jokes.” Maggie leaned back folding her arms over her chest while she gave Georgie a nasty smirk. “But Stan will see you for what y
ou really are soon enough.”
“What I really am?” Georgie did her best to hang onto her rapidly dwindling temper. “Let me tell you what I really am, Maggie. I’m the mother of his three children. I’m his friend. And I happen to also be his ex-wife. Those are the facts, and they will never change.”
“Is that so? We’ll see about that.”
Maggie turned and stormed out of the pavilion. Georgie’s head was spinning. One minute she was looking at some superhero belt buckles, the next she was being accosted by Stan’s girlfriend who she thought was his ex-girlfriend. Wait. No. That wasn’t it. She saw the bearded man. That was what she was doing. Georgie didn’t know which way she should go. Should she try to find him again or maybe go find Aleta? Maybe she should just go tell Stan and spill everything. She did need to get her business cards that were in her room. Sadly, there had been a murder, but business is business, and helping capture the bad guy wasn’t going to put food in Bodhi’s bowl.
Slinging her satchel over her shoulder, Georgie headed toward the exit. As she walked out the main doors, there were still dozens of people milling around outside talking, taking pictures, and checking their phones.
Georgie hurried but not too fast for fear she might catch up with Maggie who had left through the same exit. She didn’t see Maggie, so instead of walking to the hotel, Georgie grabbed a cab and asked him to step on it. It was a two-dollar fare, so Georgie gave the man a ten. There was nothing worse than a cheap tipper, especially when the driver was really doing her a favor. She hopped out curbside and dashed into The Blackstone Hotel. She’d forgotten to put her eye patch down after she’d tried on her sunglasses and marched past a lobby full of gawkers to the elevator banks.
Once on her floor, she made her way to her room and pounded on the door. Stan never was a light sleeper.
“What?” he yelled as he yanked the door open. “Oh, Georgie? What are you doing here . . . ?” Stan blinked sleepily as he looked Georgie up and down. “Are you here for a little afternoon . . . ?”
“Don’t even say it. No.” She pushed her way in and let the door slam shut. “Did you get any sleep?”
