Smokey Eyes

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Smokey Eyes Page 12

by Barbara Silkstone


  Lizzy was closing up when I arrived at Nonna’s Cold Cream.

  She clicked off the counter lights, shushed me with a finger to her lips, and nodded toward Heather.

  I kept my voice low. “My meeting with Nancy went well. I’m still alive and I don’t believe she had anything to do with—”

  Lizzy pointed at Heather who was pretending to put her crayons in her school bag. A good ploy but nothing the two adults watching her hadn’t done at her age to try to hear the grownups talk.

  With a wink and a nod, Lizzy let me know she understood. She crooked her finger at me. I followed her to the window display where we could talk without Heather hearing.

  “That Antoine guy was here. I told him you wouldn’t be in today. He said he’d wait anyway, just in case. I was really uneasy with him here. He’s creepy. I mean in case of what?”

  “My Aunt Tillie must have him convinced she deserves the rights to Nonna’s magical cold cream and they can make a fortune with it.”

  “About that time Mrs. Fischer came in and asked me to demonstrate our under eye cream. When I turned around Antoine was gone. He had to be in the back room.”

  My face flushed and I gritted my teeth. Aunt Tillie had to be set straight. My partner shouldn’t have to put up with this bull hockey.

  “I grabbed the hairspray. While Mrs. Fischer messed with the eye cream in the makeup mirror I slipped back there. Sure enough the creep was there going through our file cabinet.”

  The flush in my face escalated to a three-alarm fire. How dare he—and Aunt Tillie?

  “Antoine turned toward me with a scary look like the guy from Nightmare on Elm Street. I wasn’t sure a trip to hairspray city would slow him down. He took a step at me. WonderDog had been asleep in his bed in the closet. He growled. The creep froze in place. My pooch came out with his teeth bared.”

  On cue, WonderDog ran to me from the back room, stood on his hind legs, and gave me a big disgusting slurp when I hugged him.

  Lizzy patted his head. “With one finger snap, WonderDog stopped but stayed focused, mouth open and drooling, on the creep. I thought I might have to get a set of those big ice tongs to drag Antoine out the door. When I got him outside, I told him if he ever came back again, I’d call the cops—after I turned WonderDog loose.”

  “The day Brent was murdered, Antoine acted weird about the police questioning him. He put on his sunglasses and ducked into the shadows.”

  “He was in the eyeball lineup, wasn’t he?” Lizzy looked over her shoulder to be sure Heather hadn’t crept up on us.

  “That’s no guarantee he isn’t guilty of something else. I need to call Kal and Aunt Tillie—away from a certain little eavesdropper.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “You did very well.”

  She smiled. “Who woulda thunk selling cold cream could be so…so…”

  “Entertaining?”

  She dismissed me with a hand flick and did a dance-shuffle over to Heather. They were hugging with I stepped outside.

  My first call was to Kal. As usual he answered on the first ring—that is, if he was going to answer at all. I told him about Antoine LePew’s shenanigans.

  “A reason to pick up Mr. LePew,” Kal said. “A computer glitch during the lineup stopped me from learning about a problem with his New York driver’s license. He’s been on my to-do list since then.”

  Dear old Aunt Tillie was next on my list. She answered with a sultry Hello that would have sounded ridiculous for a woman half her age. But what did she have in her life? Gigolos like Antoine she meets on planes? A pang hit my heart in spite of my anger at her. Somewhere a better side of her still existed.

  “Aunt Tillie, this has to stop. I won’t stand for my partner being subjected to trash like Antoine.”

  “Olive, I’ve already discussed the incident with Antoine. Your friend Lizzy has a vivid imagination. If she spreads stories about him, he’ll sue her for defamation! He’s considering filing charges about being assaulted by that vicious dog.”

  “Any good side Aunt Tillie might have was well hidden. I don’t exactly understand what you’re doing, but I do understand you’re doing it with the wrong person. This guy is a problem. Lock up your jewels and hide your credit cards. Other than that, have a good evening.”

  If I had an old-fashioned phone, I would have slammed the receiver down. Okay, I didn’t handle it all that well, but I was worried about Lizzy, and as much as I hated to admit it, my aunt also.

  Lizzy stuck her head out the door. “Everything okay?”

  “As good as it can be with Tillie. I’m brewing my first batch of magical cold cream tonight.”

  “Need any help?”

  “I’d love the help but you know Nonna’s restrictions about only one Peroni having access to the super-secret recipe. How many cases of empty jars do we have in the back?”

  “Six—seventy-two jars. I’ll help you put them in your car. How are you going to get them up to your condo? Do you want me to follow you?”

  “I can handle it. The Sandy Shores residents keep a grocery cart in the utility room.”

  A quiet night at home making cold cream. What could go wrong?

  Chapter 28

  Three of the six cartons of empty jars fit nicely in the Sandy Shores Towers’ grocery cart. I pushed the wobbly thing to the elevator and clattered along the second floor walkway to my condo.

  The keys nestled in the bottom of my purse—I wrangled them out—jockeyed around the cart, braced the door with my foot and shoved the cart into the foyer.

  Puff mewed at my feet. I could almost make out her words. “Where were you all day?” Mew. Mew.

  Kitty care came first—then onto the cream. I rinsed out Puff’s drinking dish and filled it with fresh filtered water. The canned turkey and fish pate didn’t smell like either fowl or fish. I wished my little darling would eat people food, but she turned up her nose preferring her canned mush that often had no identifiable aroma.

  Once Puff was satisfied, I promised her a quick return, emptied the grocery trolley and went down for the second load. I pulled the door closed but didn’t lock it. No sense in fussing with the keys. I’d be right back.

  I repeated the process loading the second trio of cartons, locked my car, and trudged to the elevator. No wonder Nonna kept her client list small and did business from her kitchen. This would have been much too much work for a lady of her age.

  Once I unloaded the second batch, I returned the cart to the utility room, then raced up the stairs and into the condo. How many jars of magical cream could I brew before exhaustion hit?

  I’d been in my business suit since our meeting with Grayson—had it only been this morning? Time to get comfy.

  I ferreted out my artist’s overalls and pulled them over a pale blue T-shirt. Using an elastic hairband I pulled my thick hair back into a high ponytail. I was ready to make magic. The recipe was hidden in the gold file box tucked in the closet in the alcove office.

  As I reached to get the box Puff leaped to the desk and began hissing and spitting, her tail fluffed to twice its normal size. She never misbehaved that way before. I felt a hot breath on the back of my neck.

  My world went dark.

  I was swimming as smoothly as an Olympic swimmer. I wanted to keep going and going forever. Wait! Water was splashing my face. Get me out of here. I heard voices but couldn’t see anyone. One of the anyones I couldn’t see was dabbing my face with a damp cloth.

  I blinked and then again. A sharp pain in the top of my head kick-started my return to reality. I reached up but someone took my hand away. Ivy’s voice cut through my haze. “Don’t touch!”

  “Where am I?”

  “You’re on your couch,” Ivy said. “Myron carried you from your office. He’s so strong.”

  “What happened?”

  “Somebody hit my favorite shrink on the head. I almost nabbed him,” Myron said.

  “We were coming to see if you wanted to join us for dinner,” Ivy said. �
�We caught the thief coming out of your door. Myron tripped the no-goodnik then kicked him in the ribs when he fell on your welcome mat.”

  “If I wasn’t wearing tennis shoes my kick would have put him out of commission. He got up and ran.”

  I concentrated on keeping my eyelids open. Myron was coming into focus. He resembled a bowl of borscht—a peculiar shade of purple. Ivy stood at his side pale as a pitcher of cream.

  My eyelids slammed shut. “Who?”

  Kal’s voice reached my ears. “Antoine LePew.”

  I forced my eyelids open with my thumbs and forefingers. “Kal, what are you doing here?”

  “Myron called me. I was only a block away but LePew was gone by the time I arrived. I called Lizzy. She’ll be here any minute.”

  “He must have slipped in when I left the door unlocked while I ran down to my car.” I released my eyelids. They stayed open. “How long was I out of it?”

  “Minute, minute and a half,” Kal said staring at my eyes, “which indicates you have a mild concussion. That thick ponytail probably saved you. Your pupils look okay. We should take you to the hospital to be on the safe side.”

  Lizzy burst through the door with Heather and WonderDog on her heels. “What happened? Are you okay?” She rushed to the couch and bent over awkwardly to hug me. I hoped she didn’t fall over in her wedgies and give me a real injury. Heather and WonderDog smothered me.

  “I put an alert out for LePew,” Kal said. “That slimeball is gonna pay for this. Any idea what he was after?”

  Despite the pain in my head, my thinking was pretty clear. “Tell me if there’s a file box in the closet in the little office.”

  Kal returned carrying the gold file box. “Is this what you’re talking about?”

  “That’s it.” I leafed through the files, then set the box on the coffee table. Nothing’s missing. It doesn’t make sense. We’re dealing with a real head case.”

  “The important thing is you’re okay, dearie,” Ivy said. “Are you hungry? Like I said we were on our way to dinner when all this happened.”

  What had I consumed all day besides coffee? I thought of my uneaten omelet. “I could eat a little something.”

  Kal leaped into his protector persona. “Olive, you need to go to the hospital not out running around to a restaurant. If you say no to the hospital, I want to observe you for an hour or so to satisfy myself that you’re not about to collapse from a brain injury.”

  I appreciated his concern but I wasn’t about to go to the hospital for a minor headache. Although if he grilled me for that hour—like I knew he would—my headache might escalate to hospital-grade.

  “I have the perfect solution,” Myron said with a big grin.

  Lizzy and I looked at each other then at Myron and said in unison, “Pizza?”

  “Exactly. We’ll all get some delicious food. Olive can stay in and recover. Kal can observe to be sure Olive’s okay. And Lizzy can look after Olive. I’ll order it and Ivy and I will pick it up.”

  As empty as I was, pizza sounded good even though we had just had it. “Myron, don’t you ever get tired of pizza?”

  “What’s to get tired of? And it’s one of the basic food groups.”

  “Don’t forget the—”

  “Pepperoni. I know already.”

  Myron whipped out his cell phone and ordered. “They said they’re backed up. Forty minutes. Ivy, lets leave now. We can have a glass of wine while we wait. That blinking neon Budweiser sign behind the bar is pretty romantic.”

  “Heather, WonderDog, and I are going to spend the night with you—just in case,” Lizzy said. “I’ll scoot home, throw some things in a bag and be back shortly.”

  “No need bothering the kids,” I said. Heather played a catch the mouse game with Puff on Lizzy’s iPad. Wonder slept on his back snoring softly.

  Lizzy left on her errand.

  Thirty minutes later, Myron and Ivy returned with two extra-large pizzas, one pepperoni as promised. Lizzy arrived two minutes after that.

  We ate in the living room off paper plates. Evidently everybody was hungry because we scarfed it down in silence except for WonderDog woofing for pieces of crust. Ivy and Lizzy gathered the plates and boxes and took them to the kitchen.

  I grabbed the file box from the coffee table, carried it to the office, and placed it on the desk.

  The map to the beekeeper was missing! Since my visit to Digby’s Bees, I left Nonna’s map tucked under the corner of the desk blotter. The hand printed heading read—Map to Secret Ingredients for Cold Cream.

  I charged into the living room. “Antoine is headed for my beekeeper! Digby’s in danger!”

  Lizzy put her hands on my shoulders. “Digby?”

  “I can’t explain except to say that we have to stop him. Digby is a friend—a beekeeper in danger. There is only one reason why Antoine took that map. He thinks Digby holds the key to the magic cold cream. The creep is out to steal it!”

  “Where’d he get that idea from?” Lizzy said, giving me a puzzled look.

  A fudged answer eluded me—I didn’t respond to her question.

  “We’ll stop him before he gets there,” Kal said. “I’ll call in the address. The Sheriff’s Department and the Highway Patrol are already looking for him.”

  I gave Kal the address and he stepped aside to call the cavalry. I said to his back, “If LePew gets to the bee farm Digby will shoot him on sight. He doesn’t take to trespassers. I don’t want my friendly beekeeper going to jail on account of that no account.”

  Lizzy sent Heather and WonderDog to the bedroom. Puff tagged after them.

  What did that fool Antoine think he’d do once he got to Digby’s? Run off with the bees? Did he think that’s where all the magical cream was kept? The man was a nutcase. I’d make sure he got his due.

  I dug my phone out of my purse and pulled up his number. “I have to warn him.”

  “Digby? It’s Olive. A lunatic may be on his way to see you. Lock your door. Don’t shoot on sight. The Highway Patrol and the Sheriff’s men are right behind him. He’s a honey nut.”

  Silence lay heavy on the end of the phone. “This is Olive Peroni?”

  “This isn’t a practical joke. Just hold your fire. His name is Antoine LePew and he’s not worth going to jail for. He stole my map to your farm.”

  “There’s somebody pounding on my door. I could give him a zinger with my baseball bat. Lay him out until the law comes.”

  The pain in my head took second place to my concern for Digby. “Stay on the phone. Don’t answer the door! He might be armed.”

  “Ain’t met a slicker I couldn’t handle.” Digby ignored me. “The phone’s on speaker. Just don’t speak!”

  I heard a latch clank and then the creak of wood.

  “Where is it?” Antoine’s voice crackled through the line.

  “Now steady, fella. What is it you’re looking for? I got all sorts of honey. Just have a seat and I’ll bring you a sampler of my best.”

  I had to admire Digby’s calm in the face of insanity.

  “You got the secret ingredients for face cream here?” Antoine sounded desperate.

  “Face cream? This here place is all about honey—not beauty products. You gotta get beautifiers at the You Are Here general store. Up the road a piece right before Fort Lonesome. Look for the sign with the flying red horse.”

  “Look at this map!” I heard the sound of paper crinkling. “It says this here’s the place to find Secret Beauty Cream!”

  “I hope you didn’t pay a lot for that map. Somebody steered you wrong, son. Sit a spell. I got some tea going. Make you a cup with my special Sleeping Bee honey. Then we can sort out your directions.”

  There wasn’t much conversation for a couple of minutes. Footsteps and the clatter of cups, saucers, and silverware.

  “Here you go, friend. The best tea money can’t buy. This will clear our heads so we can figure out what’s going on.”

  A few slurps. “This is g
ood stuff. I’m not much of a tea drinker but…” Then a thud.

  “Out cold. Glad he liked the sleeping tea,” Digby said. “Now where are those cops you promised and who the heck is this flake?”

  It took a bit of creative beating around the bee-bush to explain Antoine’s motives to the crew gathered in my living room. By the time I spun a tall tale that fit my audience and didn’t involve Digby in the production of Nonna’s magical cold cream, the Highway Patrol arrived and carted off Aunt Tillie’s latest mistake.

  “I get first crack at the crackpot,” Kal said as he stood to leave. “Is your aunt any part of this? Do we need to pick her up?”

  “Let her sleep. You know where to find her.” I mouthed the words thanks and gave Kal one of my sweeter smiles.

  Myron and Ivy left for a romantic spot Myron knew for an after pizza drink. I didn’t ask about the blinking neon signs.

  Lizzy stuck her phone in my face. “Heather’s asleep on one of the beds, squished in with WonderDog and Puff. I took a few photos.” They did look precious.

  Tranquility settled over me, as it should in a tranquil place like Starfish Cove.

  I hoped it would last.

  Chapter 29

  Lizzy’s phone binged in my hand as I scrolled through the pictures of the sleeping trio. I handed it to her without being snoopy enough to read the text that just came through.

  She read it and shook her head. “Jaimie’s called and texted five or six times since you and I left the shop. Something about Chip insisting she confess.”

  “What? We know she didn’t kill Brent.”

  “Her voice messages were slurred. It was poshookly this and poshookly that. Her texts were full of misspellings.”

  “Did you call Chip?”

  “Unreachable as usual. What he does with his down time has always intrigued me. He’s the quiet man of mystery.”

  “You know her so well. By tomorrow morning she’ll have forgotten her confession.”

  Lizzy looked at the kitchen clock. “Let’s get some sleep.” She held up two fingers and moved them in front of my eyes. “Just checking. How many fingers?”

 

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