4 Yip/Tuck (10 page)

“First of all, asking questions is not dangerous, and I do not need training to do so. Second, I’m not involved. I plan on calling Malone first thing tomorrow to tell him about Dr. O’Doggle’s secret life.”

“And then you’re done.”

“Maybe.” I took a deep breath and counted to three. “We agreed, no lying,” I said, holding back a sigh. This was another sticky area in our relationship. I had issues with his dangerous job, and he had a problem with my inability to turn off my snap judgments and my penchant for meddling in police business.

“That doesn’t make it okay to do what you want and discount how I feel.” He tossed his plate in the trash.

“Hold on there. That’s not what’s happening.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Not at all. Look, you just got home. Can we change the subject? I love you.” I shoved him toward the living room until he fell onto the couch. I jumped on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. “You love me.”

He wasn’t exactly melting in my embrace.

“I don’t want to fight,” I said.

He sighed. “I don’t either.”

I kissed his neck softly and whispered, “Good. Let’s do something else. Welcome home.”

I felt his muscles tense. “We’re not finished discussing this, Melinda.”

“I know,” I said honestly.

He looked at me with an intensity that made my heart race. I searched his eyes for some clues as to what he was thinking. Then he slowly kissed me as if he’d missed me more than breathing.

THE KOFFEE KLATCH was the last place I thought I’d ever run into Detective Malone on a Monday morning. He struck me as the kind of guy who bought his coffee out of vending machines. No sweetener, no milk, and certainly no flavored syrup, just straight-up joe. Yet there he was, waiting in line like the rest of us gourmet caffeine junkies.

He placed his order and then stepped aside. By the time I’d ordered my usual, he’d paid up and left. Well, that’s what I’d thought, anyway.

Surprise. He was waiting for me outside. I’m sure to the average passerby we looked like a pair of regular citizens, since both of us wore jeans, T-shirts, and black leather jackets. Who’d suspect he was a cop waiting to threaten an innocent woman with jail for merely asking questions?

“I got the addresses,” he said after sipping his drink. “Thanks.”

His dual personality, Mr. Warm and Fuzzy, was in charge this morning. “You’re welcome. Any news on who killed Doc?”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re getting involved in my investigation.” He fixed me with The Look.

“Let’s be honest. I’m involved whether I want to be or not. He died in front of my store. I helped you find potential suspects by giving you a list of names and addresses.”

“How do you know he died in front of your store?”

That caught me off guard. How did I know? “I just assumed. Are you saying he didn’t die there? That someone dumped him?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about someone purposely choosing my business to dump a dead body.

Malone studied me for a full second. “We’re following the evidence.”

We moved to the sidewalk, out of the way of the Koffee Klatch’s customers. The sounds of morning traffic competed with our conversation.

“So there is evidence? Besides Tova’s bracelet. Because, I’ve got to tell you, I’m not sure she’s the one. Do you have fingerprints or DNA?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re not that involved.”

Too late. I took a sip of chai. “Did you walk here?” I asked.

“Why?”

“I have something to tell you, and I need to get to the shop. Can you talk and walk?”

He nodded in agreement, but the look on his face clearly stated he was anything but agreeable. The brisk morning air stung my cheeks. I huddled underneath my jacket as I searched for the least annoying way to share my information.

“Do you know how he died?” I asked.

“Not your business.”

I could hear shoes slapping the cement behind us. I stepped aside and let the runner pass. Malone waited for me to catch up. I matched my step with his. “What if I told you he had a secret life?” I asked.

“On the Internet?”

“Better.” I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding my enthusiasm. I waited to continue my story until the bus passed us. “Darby and I were doing Tova a favor and, in the process, learned Jack had an alter ego.”

“Get on with it, Melinda,” he said pointedly.

“Dr. O was a regular performer at the Kitty Kat Club. He was a drag queen.”

He missed a step. “What?”

Was that real surprise on Malone’s face? That was all the encouragement I needed.

“You never know about people, right? His fellow drag queens thought he lacked talent. Get this. His stage name, Jackie O. He even did one number in a pink suit with a pillbox hat. Kinda creepy, if you ask me.”

Malone nodded at an older couple walking their beagle past us. Once they were out of earshot he asked, “How do you know all of this?”

“We found a clipping in a photo frame he had on his desk and thought we should check it out. We asked around . . .” I trailed off as I realized I was sharing more than I needed to.

“Who did you talk to?”

“Goldie Fawn. Bea Haven. Ladasha That’s spelled L and then a dash and then just the A.”

Malone stopped in front of one of the many art galleries in town and looked at me, unimpressed. “What are you talking about now?”

“They’re drag queens. They’ve all performed with her, uh him. Miss Bea Haven does a mean Jennifer Hudson impression. Seriously, dead on. Her makeup is amazing. And boy, do those girls have attitude. I’d suggest buying Bea a drink if you want the real skinny on Jackie O. She wasn’t all that helpful for us.”

“You went to a drag show?”

“Me, Darby, and Kendall Reese. He works at—”

“I’m well aware of who Kendall Reese is.”

I’d bet my last dollar there was a story there. “If the subject comes up don’t mention this to Caro. If my mama got wind, she’d hop on the first plane to the OC.”

“You dragged Darby with you?”

I was offended. “I didn’t have to drag her. She offered to go.” Okay, that was a fib. She didn’t offer to go, but I certainly hadn’t dragged her, either.

“Probably to keep an eye on you and Kendall. She’s the only level-headed one in the bunch. I’ll check out the story. You keep out of it. Understand?”

“You might want to take backup. You’re pretty good-looking. Have you ever seen drag queens fight for man-candy?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

I swear his shoulders were shaking. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing at me or shuddering at the thought of being fought over by men dressed as women.

“Go alone, and you’ll get a front row seat.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

It wasn’t until I was back at the shop that I realized he hadn’t threatened to throw me in jail. Things were looking up.

I sent Betty to pick up our lunch at the deli down the street. She wanted a grilled cheese. That sounded like a fine choice until she explained what the gourmet deli put on it—pickles, marinated onions, and tomatoes. I’d stick with my plain old egg salad sandwich, thank-you-very-much.

The door chimed. I looked up from organizing the bark-mitzvah collars and caught my breath. Vera White was back.

I should have sent that letter like Betty suggested. Darn, this wasn’t going to go well. Vera wore a surgical mask and had her antibacterial sanitizer in her hand.

“Hello, Vera. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you yet.”

“I know you’ve hired someone. I called.” She eyed the white collar I held. “I came to tell you I couldn’t take the job anyway. I found out I’m allergic to dogs.”

Ah, the reason for the mask. “That’s too bad.” I hung the merchandise and crossed toward her.

“Not really. I didn’t like dogs anyway.” She pulled out a box of exam gloves from her doctor’s bag. “Even though I won’t be working for you, I haven’t stopped thinking your shop. I brought you these as a gift. Would you like me to bring you some sanitizer?”

“Actually, I bought some.” I pointed at the bottle on the counter.

Her dark eyes beamed. “Good.” She held out the box of gloves. “I haven’t slept since last week. My therapist said it’s because I’m obsessing about your lack of sanitation. Please. Take them. I need to rest.”

It was difficult to tell if she looked exhausted with half her face covered, but her wiry hair looked a little flat. I accepted the gift. Who was I to keep her from sleeping? “Non-latex,” I noted.

She nodded. “Just in case you’re allergic and don’t know it. You can never be too careful.”

“Thank you. I’ll keep them behind the counter.”

She balled her hands. “You’ve put up more decorations since I was here.”

I was about to tell her it was Betty’s handiwork but thought better of it. “Hopefully it helps to put my customers in the holiday spirit.”

“Be sure to dust everything before you pack it away. It cuts back on the germs.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After wishing me luck, she pulled out a package of disposable wipes and used one to open the door on her way out.

Yowza. I tossed the gloves under the counter and promptly forgot about them. Once I’d sorted and arranged a display of bow ties and veils to my satisfaction, I hightailed it back to my office. I wanted to review that list of names.

Goldie Fawn had been here for the Ava Rose event. Why hadn’t I asked for her real name the other night? I was sure Kendall knew, but he wasn’t exactly talking to me. He was still angry that I failed to mention Jackie O. I strolled to the front of the store, list in hand. Was Goldie a Michael? Lars? Ben? Ramon? Kevin?

“Melinda? I need your help.” A soft, strained voice broke my concentration.

Startled, I jumped, tossing the paper in the air. I hadn’t heard the bell, yet there stood Tova. Without Kiki or Stacie.

She didn’t look any better than she had on Saturday. She’d thrown on a jogging outfit and white sneakers. The shoes were a red flag. Tova wore heels with everything. Dark circles still hung under her eyes like mink coats. The poor gal looked like ten miles of Texas back roads. That was not a compliment.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” I picked up the paper, folded it into a square, and shoved it in my back pocket. “Where’s Stacie?”

Tova shook her head. “I don’t know. With her brother, I think.”

Well, she needed to get back here pronto. Tova needed a keeper. “I didn’t realize she had family here. What’s he do?”

“He’s an actor or something.” She fingered a doggie trench coat on the wall.

“What can I do for you?” I kept an eye out for Betty, who was due back at anytime.

Tova listlessly drifted through the store, avoiding eye contact. “Detective Malone came by my house today. He told me to get a lawyer.”

Well, there’s a conversation starter. “He must have some pretty strong evidence.” I led her toward the coffee bar.

“My bracelet. The one I wore to your party. I thought I lost it here. The clasp was loose. I meant to take it to the jeweler’s to be repaired. I hadn’t gotten around to that.”

The bracelet had to be what Stacie had been looking for. Only it was too late.

“It was under Jack’s body.” I poured myself a mug of hot water and tossed in a lemon.

“I didn’t kill him,” she insisted, her voice growing stronger. “Gwen knows something about his death.”

I, too, thought Gwen was hiding something. “Why are you so sure?”

I offered her a mug, but she declined. “Jack said she was sending his patients to another surgeon.”

“That’s a pretty serious accusation.”

She ran a shaky hand through her stringy hair and paced in front of the dog carriers. “He was going to confront her Wednesday night. That’s why he wasn’t coming to your party. He said he found proof.”

“Did he tell you what kind of proof?”

“No. He didn’t have a chance.”

“Did you tell Detective Malone about this?”

She whipped around, her green eyes wild. “Yes, but he only cared about my alibi. And when I last saw Jack. What we talked about. If we fought. He asked very personal questions.”

Unfortunately, that’s how it was done. “Do you have an alibi?”

“Of course.” Her shoulders sagged. “Well, I thought I did. After your party, Stacie and I went to my place and worked on my upcoming schedule. Malone said that wasn’t good enough. Jack was killed early in the morning. I was alone then. I told him to ask Gwen where she was at the time, but he didn’t seem to care.”

Time of death. Malone had kept that to himself. I wondered what else he hadn’t shared. Not that he had to share anything with me. We weren’t partners.

“Did he mention DNA or fingerprints?” I asked.

“Nothing. According to my lawyer, there’s nothing concrete to put me at the site of the murder. I can’t believe I’m asking, but will you talk to Jack’s staff again? See if you can find out what evidence he had?”

I shook my head, sympathetic to her plight, but I wasn’t the right girl for the job. “Have your lawyer talk to them.”

“I didn’t kill Jack.”

“Then let the police do their job. Malone will follow the evidence.”

“I don’t want to go to jail. What’ll happen to Kiki?” Tova rushed to the front door and locked it.

“What are you doing?” I chased after her.

“I want to tell you something, and I don’t want anyone to barge in and interrupt me.”

I sighed. Good grief. What more was there to say? She was innocent. She loved Jack. Blah, blah, blah.

“What I’m about to tell you has to stay confidential,” she urged.

“I’m not your priest or your shrink. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Melinda Langston, you may speak your mind, but I know you’re a fair person. And I sure as hell know you can keep a secret.”

She knew me pretty well. “Fine.”

“Pinky promise?” She held out her right pinky.

Strike that. Not well enough. “Don’t push it.”

Tova straightened her shirt and cleared her throat. “Thank you.” She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes for a couple of seconds. Then she cast a forlorn gaze toward me. “I haven’t always been beautiful.”

I blinked. Was she serious? “Uh-huh.”

“I’ve had some plastic surgery.”

Okay, now I wanted to laugh, but I held back when I saw the seriousness in her face. “Tova, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but that’s not a secret.”

“I’m not talking about breast augmentation. I had my first surgery at ten. For my ears.”

Of course I looked at them. Who wouldn’t? They appeared natural to me. She had a good surgeon.

“I was tall and gawky. A real klutz. My ears were huge. My nose too big for my face. I had a mole on my cheek.” She rubbed her face absently. “I had bushy eyebrows. I started waxing at eleven.”

To look at her now, that was all very hard to believe. She had flawless skin, a delicate nose, and perfectly shaped eyebrows.

“I was teased horribly as a child.”

Her hollow tone grabbed me. “I’m sorry,” I said automatically. I truly was. No one deserved to be bullied or teased. Especially a child.

She batted away my apology. “I was called the usual names. Dumbo and elephant ears. Mostly by my mother. She thought she was toughening me up. She was tired of me running home after school crying like a big blubbering baby.” She let out a heavy sigh. “I loved my mother, but she loved to make fun of me.”

Whoa. No, no, no. I did not want to relate to her. If there was anything I understood, it was the insane, push-pull-love-hate mother-daughter relationship. I stomped the feelings of empathy bursting inside of me.

“After my mother paid for my ears, she moved on to my nose and mole; she even convinced the surgeon to do a chemical peel on me, so my skin tone would be perfect. By the time I was sixteen, I’d had five surgeries.”

Who does that to her child?

“But look at you now.” I attempted to stay positive. I didn’t want to deal with a crying Tova.

“Yes, look at me. My mother died in a car accident when I was twenty. Now I make money on the face and body she paid for. The man I loved is dead, and the police have me listed as the prime suspect. I didn’t kill Jack.”

I was doomed. My black heart ached for her. I felt her distress, and I hated it. I’d fought those same battles with my mother. Of course, my mama wasn’t dead. She was just in Texas.

Suddenly, I understood Tova. Hell, that was a bitter pill to swallow.

“Malone is fair.” Lame, I know.

He was also stubborn and unforgiving if lied to. Plus, he showed a propensity for tunnel vision, but I didn’t think now was an appropriate time to share my insights.

“Tova, if you’re hiding anything from him, he’ll find out. It’s better to be upfront. Now.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” she insisted. “Help me.”

“How do you think I can help you?”

“You helped clear Darby’s name. Help me clear my name, too.”

“Look, Malone specifically told me to stay out of his investigation.”

“I’m sure he’s told you that before.”

“He has, but that time was different. Darby’s my—” I caught myself.

“She’s your friend.” She finished flatly.

I felt a little ashamed. “Well, yes. She is.”

“Just talk to Jack’s staff. You have a way of getting information from people. Please.”

I don’t know why I hesitated. She’d had me when she said her mother called her Dumbo.

“Have you ever heard the name Danny Stone?” I asked.

She nodded. “I think so. Maybe he was a newer patient of Jack’s? I met him once at the office. Why? Does he know something?”