"You're M-m-maizie Albright," the girl stammered.
"What's your name?"
"Rhonda." She stuck out her hand and I shook it.
"Nice to meet you, Rhonda. How are you?"
In the salon area, the women had leaned forward, watching Rhonda and me. The stylist at the sink pulled a phone from her pocket.
"Just fine, ma'am." Rhonda still clutched my hand. "How are you?"
"I'm great, Rhonda. I've moved back home to Black Pine for good."
"Oh, that's nice," breathed Rhonda. "The locals will leave y'all alone if you want. We've gotten used to some celebrities coming up here."
"I am glad to hear that, Rhonda. I wasn't happy in Hollywood, you know?"
"You should hear what my husband calls Hollywood," said the foil lady. "Of course you can't be happy out there. This is your real home. It's right for you to come back to your daddy. We know all about what happened. Y'all ran around with the wrong sort."
"Would you sign me an autograph?" asked Rhonda. "And can we do a picture?"
"Sure, Rhonda." I reached over the reception desk, grabbed a pen, and signed my name in big, loopy letters on the schedule book.
Rhonda held out her phone, and I wrapped an arm around her neck and smiled for a selfie. Probably'd go viral, but I couldn't keep my debut in Black Pine under wraps for long. Besides, I felt bad for what was about to happen.
Returning Rhonda's phone, I glanced over my shoulder at Nash. He’d crease his Armani shirt if he didn’t stop crossing his arms so tightly. And that scowl would cause crow’s feet. I grinned at him. He looked at his watch.
"Now," I said, "how about that buff and file?"
“Yes, ma’am.” Rhonda scurried from behind her desk, grasped my arm, and led me to the nail area.
Phones clicked photos as we trooped behind the half wall. I oohed and ahhed over the setup, glancing at the framed certificates in each station as I passed. Jenna. Shelly. Ashley. Ashley had a photo stuck to her mirror. Ashley wasn't working today.
Barb, the tiny woman with the wet nails, popped out of her seat. "I'm all done, Miss Albright." Grasping my hand in two of hers, Barb pumped my arm. "I am glad you have put that horrible business behind you. We here in Black Pine would love to welcome you back. As long as you don't do any of that funny stuff anymore."
"Thank you, Barb.”
“Right?” said Rhonda. “They said in Us Weekly, you got a nice judge. He took it easy on you. Gave you probation and rehab and some fines."
I hated rehashing my former life. But I also hated how the tabloids always got the details wrong. It was a choice between allowing people to think the worst or coming off as defensive. A total lose-lose situation, as Vicki would say.
"I got lucky with Judge Ellis. And he agreed that moving to Black Pine and starting over was a healthy solution. I had to finish college and the 'minute I graduated' move back home and get a job. I have ten days to turn in a pay stub. Then another year of checking in to see that I stay on my feet."
"You need to speak to my church, Miss Maizie," said Barb, still pumping my hand.
"Barb, your nails," said the brunette with the blue ends.
Barb pulled her hands off mine and waved them in the air. "They're fine. Miss Albright, you go on and have a seat. I'll just sit over at the dryer table."
I slid into the seat before the brunette and studied the wall over her shoulder. No certificate. Brunette with the blue ombre dye must be Tiffany. When Nash had said her name, they had all shot her a look and Barb had quit talking, at least until I had introduced myself. Simple deduction, just like Julia Pinkerton would have done. My lips curled with excitement.
Leaning toward Barb, I winked. "I heard this was a good place to get a manicure."
Tiffany raised her brows. "People like you usually go to the shops over at the lake."
"Well, maybe I'm different.” I smiled.
Brunette glanced at my Nina Ricci dress and snorted.
Ignoring the snort, I extended my fingers over the towel covered bump on her table. "So, Tiffany, how long have you lived in Black Pine?"
"Long enough."
Nash hopped to his feet. He clutched an envelope in his big hand.
I swiveled back to Tiffany. She narrowed her liquid-lined eyes, half stood, and drew an elbow back. I stared at the elbow, realized it was attached to a fist, and caught Tiffany's focused glare as her knuckle slammed into my nose.
My chair tipped back. My bag flew across the linoleum tiles. The Jimmy Choos shot into the air. And an intense, sharp pain ricocheted through my head.
I squeezed my eyes shut to the sound of more clicking phones.
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A Sneak Peek of The Cupid Caper
She's trying to take down an organization.
He's trying to take back her heart.
The Cupid Caper, A Finley Goodhart Crime Caper #1
One
The Approach
Wednesdays often brought the college boys to Jello’s Pool Hall. Particularly in the winter. I’d call it cabin fever, except we were in Georgia. Still, too cold to drink on their frat house front porch rocking chairs. Too early in the week to host a party. The non-heathens would be attending Wednesday night church. The good students would be in class or the library.
But the bad boys would bring money to places like Jello’s. Which was why I was there.
And how Lex knew to find me.
I had just racked a fresh round. Satisfied with the smooth lift of the triangle. No balls escaped. Feeling good about the roll of twenties tucked into the front pocket of my jeans. That gratification disappeared upon sensing a male presence behind me. The scent of his aftershave cut through the pervading smell of beer, stale smoke, and old fryer oil. I sniffed once. Recognized the cardamon and bergamot scent. Rested the cue stick on the table.
“Wanna make a wager? I’m having a lucky night.” I bent over the table to place the cue ball. Angled the stick. Shot it backward. And turned to face him.
“Hello, love.” Lex grabbed the stick. “Watch yourself. I’d like to remain a baritone, if you don’t mind.”
“Sorry.” I didn’t sound sorry. Didn’t even get close. “Careful where you stand next time? Another town, maybe?”
He pushed the stick away. Grinned. Sidled forward. “Don’t want me too deep in your pocket?”
I rolled my eyes, then studied the man. His thick, sandy hair had been trimmed to maintain an artful dishevelment. Smiling blue eyes. Sensuous lips held a relaxed smirk. His boy-next-door good looks never revealed anything but indolent charm and false promises. A real ace. Too careful and too practiced to show anything else.
“You look tired.” I took a careful step to the side. Rested my hip against the table. “Tinge of blue beneath your eyes.”
“Too many lonely nights.”
“I bet. They have medicine for that, you know.”
“Not the cure I seek. You’re looking fit, though.” His gaze traveled the room. “How’d you do tonight?”
“What do you want, Lex?” My hand reached for the cue ball. I rolled it beneath my palm.
His eyes snapped back to me and told me what I already knew. I narrowed mine. His mouth quirked.
“Relax,” he said. “Gave you my word I’d leave you alone, didn’t I?”
“Your word isn’t worth much. And you just proved it, seeing as how you’re here and all.”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
I gripped the cue ball.
He raised his hand. “Right. But I am here out of the goodness of my heart. Thought I should see you about Penny Forbes.”
“What about Penny?” I frowned. “Are you working together? Not interested.”
“You haven’t heard?” The mask fell. His face tightened and he appeared older, matured. “Fin, we s
hould go somewhere private.”
“Why?” I didn’t like the mask, but I didn’t like what he’d replaced it with either. He looked worried. Lex never worried. The carefree charisma wasn’t just an act. I was the worrier. “You know I’m on the square. If you and Penny have gotten yourself into a mess, y’all just get yourselves out of it.”
“On the level but still dodgy enough to plunder these wankers,” he muttered. “Finley, I’m serious. I don’t want to tell you here.”
“You’re never serious.” I turned. Settled the white ball. Chalked the cue tip. Moved to the side and leaned over the table. Sighted the ball. Placed the stick between my thumb and fingers.
Lex leaned over me, close enough for his words to buzz in my ear. “She’s dead, Fin. Penny’s dead.” A hand fell on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to tell you like this. Finley, come with me.”
I pulled in a breath. Ignored his hand and the clamor ringing between my ears. Gritting my teeth, I lowered my head. Centered my gaze on the space between the second and fourth racked ball. Brought the stick back and let it glide. The break rang. Two solids slammed into the back and corner right pockets.
Lex’s hand shot forward. Caught a stripe as it raced toward the front left. “Sloppy. That’s a scratch.”
“Hey.” I turned, swinging the stick with me.
He caught the stick again, pushed it aside, and grabbed my arm. “Love, did you hear me? I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be the bearer, but God knows I can’t…had to see you. News like this. I cocked it up.” He shook his head. “Love. Fin. Are you alright? What can I do?”
“Nothing.” I shook my arm free and fixed my eyes to a point on the wall behind him. I hadn’t seen Penny for months. She’d been busy. I’d been hiding. But dead? She was too young — mid-twenties, like me. Car accident? Cripes, I hoped she didn’t get sick. The fatal illnesses I knew that struck Penny’s age bracket weren’t pretty.
I sucked in a deep breath. Let it out. Hated how shaky it sounded. “How’d she die?”
“Let's talk somewhere else.” He paused. Sighed. “Right. Drug overdose. Heroin is what I heard.”
My eyes flew to his face. The blue eyes watched me. Soberly, with a hint of pity. I despised that look even more than the worry.
“No way on God’s green earth. Penny’s momma was a junkie. Crooked as she could get, Penny wouldn’t touch a substance stronger than champagne. You heard wrong, Lex.”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry, love.”
“Stop calling me that.” I felt my throat tighten and forced a swallow. “Don’t call me that anymore.”
“Can’t help myself.” His head tilted, the pitying expression deepening. “Let me at least buy you a drink. We should toast Penny. You’ve known her since, when? First time on the street?”
He reached for me, but I sidestepped. “I’m not drinking to that lie. She didn’t overdose.”
“Fin, it’s hard to hear, but it’s true. Heard it from Dot, then checked myself.”
“Who found her?” I gripped my cue stick. My chest felt like it was going to cave in. Or dump out. “Police? Which one? County? City? The heroin could have been planted, Lex. You know she’s on his list because of me. It’s not beneath him to do something like that just to make…her look bad. He’s got the county coroner in his pocket. John Prince’s a drunk and a gambler—”
“What would be the point in that? Penny was taken to the hospital, love. Wasn’t a bust or anything like that. Your da—”
I held up a finger.
“Right, come on.” Lex glanced around. Spotted my cue case under a nearby chair. Pulled it out. Took the stick from me. Unscrewed the shaft from the butt, flipped the top open on the hard case and slipped the sticks inside. Slinging the long case strap over his shoulder, he cupped my elbow.
I had stuck on the word hospital, rooted to the floor. Absently, I’d reached for the ring hanging from the chain around my neck. At Lex’s touch, I shook off my daze and dropped the ring.
“Where are you staying?” said Lex.
“Nowhere.” My stomach squeezed. I allowed him to walk me to the door. “Motel on Thirty-Four.”
“You’re coming to my place.” He glanced at me. “Don’t worry, love. You can trust me.”
“No, I can’t.” I could feel the tears forming. I swallowed hard. “I can’t go home with you. I should talk to Dot.”
“Let me go with you.”
I shook my head. Before I could speak, a voice hollered from the rear of the hall. The shout intensified. We turned. A young man jogged forward, followed by a small herd of beefy minions. The insults thrown in my direction did nothing to faze the other patrons. Nothing new for Jello’s. Behind the bar, Jello called out, demanding payment of the young man’s tab. Jello didn’t care about fights as long as his end was covered.
“Did you take him?” whispered Lex. “Of course you did.” He spun us back toward the door. Hurried our pace.
“Wasn’t much of a hustle,” I said. “He saw me beat the pants off his friend first. He’s drunk.”
“Drunk, stupid, and big. Not a good combination, love.” Lex handed me the cue case.
“He practically begged me to—” The obscenity the guy shouted caught me off guard. “Vile boy. Guess he’s worked himself into a lather about it at the bar. I am a mere female, you know. A blow to his pride. Took him three large before he gave up.”
“Right. Blighter. He’s going to catch us in the parking lot. Student, yes?”
Before the doors, Lex stopped. Pivoted. Retraced his steps toward the ape. Lex put out a hand as if to shake, then used it to steady the gorilla. “Hey, mate. Couldn’t help but hear you. Let me correct the situation.”
Behind him, the man’s friends — an indistinguishable line of baseball hats, college-branded hoodies, and beards — blundered to a halt, confused by Lex’s friendly voice and relaxed candor.
“What?” bellowed the man. He shook a fist in my direction. “She— Were you carrying her stick? She friggin’ has her own cue? What the f—”
Lex cut off his drunken cursing. “Sorry, mate. Didn’t catch your name? Drew, was it?”
“Yes, how—?”
“Your friend mentioned it.” Lex jerked his chin toward the line of monkeys behind Drew. They shifted, widening the circle. One twisted away to wander back to the bar.
“Listen, Drew. She took you for a ride, did she? Are you upset,” Lex’s voice rose while seeming to drop, “that this young girl beat you in pool? You know, she’s a brilliant mathematician. Really. It’s all in the angles. Trajectories. That sort of thing. Her father’s a professor. Maybe you had him. Physics. Genius, really. Doctor—”
“Williams?” offered Drew.
“You know him? You might know me as well?”
“You’re British.”
“Accent gave it away, did it?” Lex smiled “Yes, a doctoral student. I work for Williams. Unfortunate situation. His daughter.” He gave a nod in my direction.
Leaning against the door, I shrugged. Gave Drew an apologetic smile.
“A bit touched. Explains the maths, yes? Can’t help herself, you know what I mean?”
“What?” said Drew. “She seemed normal.”
“We won’t speak the words. Minor’s right to privacy. So hard to tell sixteen from twenty-one these days.”
Drew’s eyes widened. “She’s sixteen?”
“And Jello,” Lex continued. “As all students know, looks the other way on such things. Fake IDs and the lot. Probably why you and your friends are here. I trotted over to find her. Mission for Dr. Williams. Campus Police are on their way.”
“Security? They’re not cops.”
“No, but they report criminal incidents to the police. Under the Clery Act, I believe. Campus police is not mall security, Drew. The actual police will be just behind them. Nothing they love more than a fake ID bust. Identity theft and the like is a serious concern these days.”
As Drew swayed, Lex dropped an arm ar
ound his shoulder and steered him toward a table.
“Let’s chat, Drew. Dr. Williams has a protocol for these things.” Lex pulled out a chair.
Drew sank into it. His remaining friends drifted toward the pool tables.
Hovering above Drew, Lex crooked a finger at me and raised his voice. “Miss Williams, we need to settle this. If you could join us, please.”
I slunk to their table, doing my best imitation of sixteen-going-on-twenty-something.
Lex cupped a hand around his mouth and raised his voice. “Jello, how much does he owe you?”
“Fifty,” called Jello.
Drew blanched.
“Heavy night for three dollar beer,” said Lex. “Alright, Drew. Let's pay Jello first. Jello only takes cash. Doesn’t like to pay those pesky credit card service fees.”
Or taxes, but I kept that thought to myself.
“Can’t.” Drew pointed at me. “She took all my money. I told Jello she’d have to pay.”
“You lost your bet,” I said. “All six of them. After the first three times, you might have realized the odds were against you. Really, after losing the first two, it’s sixty percent in favor of losing. A betting man should know these things.”
“Miss Williams, what have we told you about speaking so bluntly? People perceive that as rude.” Lex shook his head. “Sorry, Drew. Looks like I got here just in time.”
He presented a clip of cash. Palmed the clip. Counted off what appeared to be fifty. Handed the folded notes to me. “Miss Williams, pay Jello. And tip him well.”
I nodded meekly. Trotted to Jello and delivered the fold. “Payment for young Drew.”
Jello scooped the bills into a meaty fist and dropped them in his till. “You’re going to catch it one of these days, Fin.”
“Not if they catch it first.” I winked. “Drew had an extra Benjamin for you. Gratis. Also in case the others don’t reconcile. These rich kids are the worst at paying their debts. Money spilling out of their pockets, yet too cheap to pay a tab.”
A Christmas Quick Sketch Page 12
