Trouble In Bloom (26 page)

I smiled wide. "I love soccer!"

He nodded. "They're going to eat you alive. After that, you can decide which you like better, and we'll get you on a team."

I didn't dare hug him again. "Thanks, Duke. You're not so bad after all."

Sternly, he said, "Don't let it get around."

The front door slammed open, and Kit nearly toppled off the ladder. I held it steady as BeBe leapt to her feet to greet Ana.

"Big news, big news," she said, tossing a Macy's shopping bag at me.

"What?" I asked, peeking inside.

She danced around the living room. "Remember the news Carson had to share with me? He's joining
Inside
Edition
as a roving correspondent. He's going national!" She sang this last part and did a two-step with BeBe, who stood on her hind legs.

BeBe's tongue lolled out in sheer delight.

"There's a party tonight to celebrate." She let go of BeBe, perched on the back of the sofa. Her short skirt showed off her great legs. A sequined top shimmered beneath a velvet blazer. "You're both invited as my guests!"

Kit continued to plaster my ceiling. "No thanks."

"Oh, come on." Her voice held a joy I hadn't heard in a long time. "You could use a night out."

"Nope. Thanks." He balanced precariously. "I'm good here."

She wouldn't let up. "With some goop and a trowel?"

"All the excitement I need." He smoothed the mud along the ceiling, feathered it out.

Kit still wasn't interested in talking about Daisy. I wondered exactly what she was up to at Heavenly Hope Holistic Healing that was so dangerous.

There was nothing I could say or do to get him to spill. So, he had listened while I told him all about Pippi, Minnie, Mac, and Bobby.

He'd muttered something about getting his own place as soon as possible. I wished he wouldn't—I kind of liked having him around, and not just because he knew how to fix things.

I thought maybe it was the mama hen in me. Here, I could keep an eye on him, protect him from whatever danger Daisy presented.

"Okay, then, you!"

Ana pointed to me as I pulled a new handbag out of the Macy's bag. "Me?" I held up her gift. "This is cute." It was a black leather Fossil bag, half tote, half purse. As Goldilocks was wont to say, it was just right. "Thank you."

"No problem. And yes, you. Now, go get dressed."

I hedged. "I'm not really in the mood for a party." Truth be told, I was exhausted. I'd forgotten how tiring volleyball could be. Besides, I still had to figure out what to do with that phone number. I wished I could just hand it over to Kevin, but there was no way to reach him. The Cincinnati detectives would probably think I was just as crazy as Sherry Cochran.

Ana blinked her big brown eyes at me, stuck out her bottom lip and let it quiver.

BeBe took this as an invitation. She jumped up and lathered her face with doggy kisses.

She laughed.

Okay, she was in a really good mood.

"It'll be fun, Nina." Holding BeBe at bay, she did the lip thing again.

"All right, all right. Just put that lip away before BeBe falls in love."

I rushed upstairs to change into some of the clothes Perry had picked out for me. I chose black slacks, a satin tank top, and a beautiful teal jacket. I slipped on black high-heeled boots, zipped them up, and wobbled into the bathroom. It took me ten minutes to put on my makeup, five to slick my hair back into the evening 'do Perry had taught me.

I nearly tripped as I walked down the stairs. "Well?" I said.

Kit wobbled on the ladder. "Holy mother."

Ana's jaw dropped. "Okay, you can't go."

"What? Why?"

"Carson's going to take one look at you and forget all about me."

"Stop!"

"Okay, maybe not, but only because it's me. Anyone else he'd dump in a heartbeat."

"There's nothing like a humble woman," Kit intoned sarcastically from atop the ladder.

Ana stuck her tongue out at him. "Don't make me come up there and spackle your lips closed."

His eyebrow lifted. "I dare you."

Ana jumped to her feet. She had no problem walking in three-inch heels. "If I weren't all gussied up . . . "

"All talk." Kit smiled as he slathered.

I barely made it down the stairs without breaking an ankle. "All right, all right, you two. That's enough. What time is this party?"

"Nine."

"But it's ten now."

Ana dumped the contents of my Kroger sack into my new handbag. "You've so much to learn."

"Oh no! I'm done learning for now. I've had enough of that this past week to last me until the end of the year at least."

We said our good-byes to Kit and BeBe. Ana had barely buckled her seat belt and started the car before saying, "Kit told me about the picket guy's phone number. Let's call it!"

"I don't know. What do we say?"

She reversed. "If someone answers, just ask who you're talking to. And if they don't answer, even better, because then their name will probably be on the voice mail."

It sounded logical to me. Pulling the number out of my bag, I punched it into my cell phone. Butterfl ies filled my stomach. The phone rang and rang, then switched to voice mail. I hung up.

"Well?"

"Nothing. Just that canned voice-mail voice reciting the number I called."

Excited, she said, "Maybe we can flush him out."

I shifted to face her. "Are you nuts?"

"Some, but so are you. What's the harm in it?"

"Oh, let me think." I tapped my chin. "This person could be a serial killer?"

She laughed. "We're not going to let him see us! Listen. We call, say something like, we know what you did, tell him to meet us at, oh, Eden Park at eleven P.M. We go, we park at the art museum and hide out until he arrives. Then we see who it is, get back in our car, and go from there."

"You know, you've been watching way too many criminal shows. Things never work out like that. Besides, all we know for sure is that the person who owns this number hired the picketers. Nothing else. Could be completely innocent. Heck, maybe Thad did kill Genevieve, then himself."

Ana flew down the on ramp to 75 south. "You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Where have you been all day?"

"Out! What happened?"

"The autopsy on Thad was done this morning. Thad was

murdered. Strangled, just like Genevieve. The noose was just a ruse." She laughed. "That rhymes."

"You haven't been drinking tequila, have you?" I was suddenly reminded of bags, hags, and nags.

"What? No. Why?"

"Just curious."

"And now the police are saying that Thad wasn't a suspect in Genevieve's death. Louisa came forward and said she'd seen Genevieve alive after Thad had left her in the hot tub. She signed some papers for the FedEx guy—they have the exact time. Apparently Louisa knew all about the love fest going on at
Hitched or Ditched
. They paid her well to keep her mouth shut."

If Louisa could resist telling all to Bobby, then she was paid really well. "This is just bizarre."

She changed lanes, sped up. "I guess Sherry was right after all. I wonder if her appearance with Carson last night led to the M.E. taking a good look."

"I'd like to think the M.E. would have figured it out on his own."

"I think Carson deserves some of the credit."

"I think you're too gaga over Carson to see straight."

"He's really cute."

"And leaving town."

"I could use a new job . . . "

"Analise Maria Bertoli! Would you leave here?"

"I don't know. Maybe. If he asked."

"Do you really love him?"

"Is there such a thing as love?"

"Don't you sound jaded."

She shrugged. "I like him a lot."

By the way he looked at her, he liked her too. I decided not to think about her moving. Denial was a good place in my book. "So, Thad was murdered."

"That means whoever that phone number belongs to could be our killer."

"But Sherry said no one at
Hitched or Ditched
hired the picketers."

"Do you believe her?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Maybe she's trying to hide her involvement? Maybe she offed good old Thad because he was boffing Gen."

"Then why would she go on TV?"

"To try and deflect the blame. Right now, Carson's painted her as a grieving widow, but we know better."

That we did.

My toes were squished inside my boots. They started to ache. "She's not strong enough to get Thad up on that catwalk."

"Willie is."

"Willie? Maybe? But I don't know if he had time. He was with the TV execs . . . But who else could it be?"

"Jessica?"

"She did want Thad's limelight. And revenge against Genevieve."

"The look of horror on her face was too real. She's not that good of an actress, trust me."

"Louisa?"

I loved that theory. I had no evidence whatsoever to back it up, but I loved it.

"Let's call the number!" Ana said.

Just then my cell phone rang. Saved by Madonna. Or rather, Maria. "Hello?"

"I figured it out, Nina!"

"What?"

"How I know that Jessica girl."

"Oh?"

"Remember I did the Cincinnati Ballet's bicentennial party a few years ago?"

"Vaguely."

"That's where I know her from. She was one of their prima ballerinas. I didn't recognize her hair because she had one of those little caps on her head, with her hair pulled back in a bun that only prima ballerinas can get away with wearing. Anyhoo, that's not the interesting part."

"Oh?"

"What's with the ohs?" Ana asked. "Who's that?"

"Maria," I said.

"What?" Maria asked.

Not this again. "Ana's with me. She was wondering who I was talking to."

"Maybe I should call back later when she's not there."

At her guarded tone, my stomach started to ache. "Why?"

She said, "I went back through my scrapbook.
SoSceCin
ci
did a huge spread on that party. In one of my pictures, there's a ballerina in the background kissing a man." She paused for dramatic effect. "The ballerina was Jessica, the man Carson Keyes."

I gasped. "The ballet slipper tattoo!"

"Right."

"What are you two talking about?" Ana demanded. "Carson?"

"Shh!" I said to Ana.

Maria went on. "I did some checking and found out they've been dating for a couple of years and have always been hush-hush about their relationship. Only a few people knew about it. My contact said they really wanted to keep their private lives private."

I stole a look at Ana, my heart sinking.

"And get this," Maria said, "they broke up about two months ago, right before Jessica was fired from
Hitched
or Ditched
."

Suddenly I remembered what Perry had said. That she had broken up with her boyfriend for Thad . . .

That boyfriend must have been Carson.

Maria said, "My contact at the station said Jessica dumped Carson because she has big dreams and wants a big budget to achieve them. Carson wasn't cutting it. How's that for irony, just before she gets canned? Cosmic justice, that's what that is."

I didn't share the news about Jess's relationship with Thad, and wondered about this new twist. "Failing? I thought his career was thriving? Most popular, blah blah . . . "

"Damn it!" Ana whined.

"Shhh!"

"Hype," Maria said. "His career had been stagnating for a while now. Too much of the same old, same old. They wanted someone younger, hipper. Before these murders, Carson was about to be fired from Channel 18, according to the news director there."

"And you know this how?"

"The news director is Nate's racquetball buddy. Now Channel 18 is racing to keep Carson from leaving."

"They lost that race," I said, thinking of
Inside Edition
.

"Well, maybe now Carson will get Jessica back. Sounds like they deserve each other. Tell Ana I said sorry. Gotta go. Nate's waiting in the hot tub. A
u revoir
!"

Ana pounded the steering wheel. "What is going on?"

"Let's, ah, pull off the highway."

She looked at me like she was about to argue, then took the next off ramp. She sped into the parking lot of a movie theater, slammed on the brakes, unbuckled her seat belt and turned to face me.

I unbuckled my seat belt too. Just in case I needed to make a run for it.

Slowly, I told her what Maria had told me.

Ana slumped in her seat. After a long quiet minute she said, "Maria didn't see the bigger picture, did she?"

It was more statement than question. "No."

"Hand it over," Ana said.

I knew what she was talking about. I rummaged around my handbag, found the phone number. I passed it over to her.

She took one look at it and a tear slipped out of her eye. She nodded. "He hired the picketers."

I speculated. "To boost the ratings of
Hitched or Ditched
, which in turn would boost his ratings on Channel 18 since he was behind the scenes all week." A desperate attempt to secure his job.

"Or get Jessica back, but why kill anyone?"

"Maybe he saw his opportunity to go national, to maybe get that big job Jessica wanted him to have. Genevieve made it easy with the death threats."

"And," Ana said, "killing Genevieve got Jessica her job back too, didn't it?"

"Why kill Thad, though?" I wondered aloud.

"He was the only media outlet on scene when Thad died. Can you get much more of a scoop than that? It's probably what propelled
Inside Edition
to hire him, to capitalize on his current popularity. Do you think Jessica knew what he was doing?"