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A Blush With Death Page 21
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Barb flashed me a look that I knew only too well. “Can I come with you? I’m good at snooping!”
“No,” I said, wondering how I was going to get out of this one. Barbara was hard to dissuade when she put her mind to something. “I can get away with it, but if you were caught in there, you could be charged with breaking and entering—you don’t have a reason to be there.”
“Neither do you,” she argued.
“No, but I do work there. I can probably talk my way out of a scene if I get caught. I’m sorry, Barb, but this time you can’t go.”
Barb sighed. “You have to take those files to Kyle. Do you think he could get a search warrant with them? Would it be enough?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. But something big is going down. One of my coworkers stormed out today, and I’m certain she was there for the same reason I am.” I gave her a rundown on what had gone down between Janette and Leila. “It wasn’t pretty, I’ll tell you that.”
“So, it sounds like Killian was right, if they have files on Donna Prima and Urban Gurlz,” Barb said, her eyes widening. “Bebe is stealing from a lot of companies, including his. How can she get away with all of this crap? Surely there’s some way to put a stop to her.”
“This is par for the course when you’re dealing with corporations. It happens all the time, and they get away with it. Bebe has just applied it on a smaller scale than we usually hear about. And so much relies on proof. Killian told me that Sharon had destroyed all their files on that particular formula, which has to be the antiaging cream. That would account for how agitated Janette was during the meeting.”
“So if Donna Prima has no proof they actually developed it, then it’s their word against Bebe’s, and she has the finished product, right?”
“Right. Frankly, at this point, I just want out of the mess. All I want is to protect Venus Envy and to get my journal back.”
As Tilda brought our orders, I thought about the papers sitting on my dinette table. Barbara was right—something ought to be done, but I didn’t know enough about the law pertaining to these matters to know where I should take them, given the circumstances. Maybe it was time for another talk with Winthrop. I’d lay everything out that I’d learned and see what he had to say. I was about to tell Barb my plan when my cell phone rang. I fished it out of my purse and glanced at the caller ID. Auntie! Eagerly, I flipped it open and answered.
“Persia? I’m so glad I got hold of you.”
“I miss you,” I blurted out. “I miss being home. But I’ve got some interesting news to tell you. And after tonight, I’ll hopefully know a lot more.” She caught her breath, and I could sense her hesitation through the phone line. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Imp. Don’t you worry about me. Listen, I want you to come home. You’re not going back to Bebe’s. We’ll find another way to keep them from ruining our shop. I’m a damned good businesswoman, and you’ve got more brains than you know what to do with. I want you to pack your bags and give your notice at the apartment tonight.”
I stared at Barb, who was looking at me expectantly. Auntie sounded so worried, and she seldom ever directly told me what to do. “Are you sure you’re okay? Is Trevor okay? Sarah?”
“Yes, yes, Imp. We’re fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Then you heard Sharon died?” That had to be it. Auntie would automatically assume that whoever killed Sharon would be out for me. It wasn’t logical, but my aunt loved me like a mother, and that was the way mothers acted.
Her voice shaky, Auntie said, “Imp, Kyle found out more about Bebe’s background. She’s apparently a widow. Six times over—from Seattle down to Portland. You can’t tell me that anybody can lose six husbands without having a hand in it somehow. From the way he talked, I have the feeling they may be reopening the investigation into those deaths.”
“And he thinks she had something to do with Sharon’s murder?” My heart leapt. If Bebe had killed Sharon, it meant Killian was off the hook.
“I don’t think so. He also said he was headed out to arrest a suspect in her murder. It should be on the news tonight,” she said.
“Who?” My breath caught in my throat, but she put my fears to rest.
“Breathe easy. Kyle wanted you to know that both you and Killian are off the hook. But he wouldn’t give me a name.”
“Then if Bebe didn’t shoot Sharon, and Kyle’s on his way to arrest the killer, I should be able to get in and out with the evidence we need without a problem. You have nothing to worry about! The receptionist told me that Bebe won’t be in until Monday morning. I have to finish this through, Auntie. I can’t just walk away.”
“I don’t like it. Even if Bebe had nothing to do with Sharon’s death, she’s still a very dangerous woman. You aren’t safe.”
“Life isn’t safe, but I give you my word that I’ll be as careful as I can. I’ve found a way into the building, and all I need to do is search Sharon’s office. Then I grab the files on Venus Envy and I’m done. I’ll get my butt out of there, and we’ll take everything to Winthrop and let him handle it.”
“Please, Imp, I’m begging you. Don’t go back.”
I sighed. “Would it make you feel better if I took somebody with me? Someone who has as much—if not more—at stake than we do?”
She hesitated. “You’re dead set on this, aren’t you?”
I took a deep breath. “Auntie, you brought me up to treat people ethically. You taught me to be honest and to be true to myself. How can I walk away when we’re being run out of business? How can I turn my head when I know Bebe Wilcox is trying to destroy the other small beauty businesses around here by running them into the ground? I’m no bleeding heart or do-gooder, but I am your niece. I am the way I am because you brought me up to be this way.”
Auntie sighed. Loudly. “Persia, I wish to hell that you weren’t such a good girl. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t want to tell you over the phone, but if I’m wrong, then I’ll come home and let it drop. If I’m right, then Venus Envy will pull out of the mire, and we’ll squash Bebe like the bug she is.”
“Be careful, Imp. If you don’t phone me by midnight, I’m contacting Kyle and asking him to hunt you down.”
“It’s a deal,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Promise me you won’t take any unnecessary risks”
“Cross my heart,” I said, folding my phone and dropping it back into my purse. I wasn’t about to add and hope to die. There was such a thing as tempting the universe, and I wasn’t interested in trying my luck.
Chapter 15
I PERSUADED BARB to go back to her place so I could relax for a moment without having to stare at the drab walls of my studio. “I want to see the news—I want to know who Kyle’s arresting.”
Dorian was gone, so we had the house to ourselves. We settled on the sofa in their family room, and Barb flipped on the TV. Channel Six’s breaking news was on—they were talking to Kyle, all right.
“Chief Laughlin, you’ve arrested a woman in connection with Sharon Wellstone’s murder?”
Kyle appeared on screen. He nodded, paused for a moment, then said, “We arrested Janette Jensen tonight, for the murder of Sharon Wellstone. We found the murder weapon in her car, and we have a motive.”
I gasped. Janette? He really thought Janette had killed Sharon? But she had motive—he was right. She was Trish Jensen’s niece, and I knew that she’d been undercover, searching for the truth about the stolen antiaging cream.
Barb looked over at me. “You know her?”
“I worked with her at Bebe’s. She’s Trish Jensen’s niece, and I’m pretty sure she was spying for Donna Prima. Janette though…I don’t believe for an instant she’s guilty. At least, I don’t think so.” I glanced at the clock. “I need to make a phone call, if you’ll excuse me.” I punched in star-82 to unblock my number.
K
illian picked up on the first ring. “Persia, I was wondering when I’d hear from you. Are you watching the news?”
“Not only that, but I was there this afternoon when Janette stormed out after calling Leila all sorts of names.”
“You were there?” He perked up, and I could hear the curiosity in his voice.
“Yeah. I don’t know if you heard, but Auntie and I staged a falling-out, and I went undercover at Bebe’s, looking for evidence that they stole my journal. I found more than I bargained for.”
He snorted. “No doubt. I’ve been so busy the past few days trying to figure out what Donna Prima is going to do now, that I hadn’t heard about your supposed defection.”
I paused, then said, “Do you think Janette did it? Do you think she shot Sharon?”
He paused for a moment, then said, “No. I might, if Sharon had threatened her or her aunt with bodily harm, but no, I don’t believe it.”
“Listen, I’ve got a proposition for you. I found a file in Leila’s cabinet all about Donna Prima, as well as one on Venus Envy and Urban Gurlz.”
“Urban Gurlz? I knew Bebe’s spring lines looked too close to theirs for comfort. I take it you’re going to swipe them?”
“Yeah. I’ve already found proof that Bebe hacked our computer. Her, or somebody in her employ. I want to know what’s in the rest of that file, and I have to find my journal. With everything in chaos due to Janette’s arrest, this might be our best chance to find out exactly what they’ve been up to.”
“Sounds promising,” he said, but I could still hear hesitation in his voice.
“Killian,” I said, lowering my voice. “They unveiled a new antiaging cream today. One that seemed to upset Janette.”
He paused, then slowly said, “I know.”
“This was your cream, right?”
Another pause, then, “Yes. The one Sharon swiped. So where and when do we meet?”
My stomach flipped, and I realized how much I wanted to see him again. “Meet me in front of the Delacorte Plaza at ten thirty. That should be late enough. You can follow me over from there.”
He agreed, then signed off. I stared at the phone.
“You really have a thing for him, don’t you?” Barb’s voice brought me back to earth. “I can see it in your face.”
“Yes…no…I don’t know.” I couldn’t tell whether the butterflies in my stomach were due to seeing Killian again or to the thought of breaking into Bebe’s factory.
“What about Bran?”
I fidgeted. “Bran’s wonderful, a really good man, but he and I will never be anything more than bed-friends.” I shook my head. “Okay, I’m heading out. I’d better get home and get ready before Killian shows up.” As I made my way to the door, she stopped me.
“Persia, do you really think Killian’s safe? He was a suspect in Sharon’s death, wasn’t he?”
I sighed. “I know you’re worried, but trust me, Kyle would never let him off the hook if he didn’t believe Killian’s innocent. And remember—Kyle found the murder weapon in Janette’s car.” I paused. “Listen, I’m far from naive. I’ve never blindly trusted anybody. And right now, my gut is telling me that Killian and I are alike. We both want revenge, but neither one of us will cross that invisible line.”
“Just be cautious. Please?” She opened the door. I waved and stepped into the muggy evening. Another thunderstorm was on the way. I could smell it in the air.
KILLIAN WAS WAITING for me at the Delacorte Plaza as we agreed, and followed me to Bebe’s. I motioned for him to get into my car for a moment so we could talk before heading into the building.
He was dressed in a pair of black leather pants and a black polo shirt, and his gingery hair had been sleeked back. With his dark shades, he could almost pass for Hispanic or Italian. My pulse quickened, and I had to force myself to quit staring as he slid into the seat.
“Nice car,” he said. “You like it?”
I shrugged. “She’s okay, but I think I might want to trade it in for an Acura.” I said, listening to the silence that descended around us. Even in summer, Gull Harbor closed up shop around six or seven except for the mall, the movie theaters, and the restaurants. After a moment, I filled him in on what I’d found in the file. He nodded, taking it in but making no comment.
“Sharon stole the antiaging cream Trish was working on, didn’t she?” I asked. He blinked, then nodded. “It’s really good, isn’t it?”
After a moment, he said, “Probably one of the best around. Trish is a genius when it comes to skin care. This could have put her at the top of her game. I would have lost her, though. Some bigger company would have head-hunted her away, no doubt about that.”
“And now they think her niece killed Sharon. Maybe Sharon caught on to her, threatened to tell Bebe or Leila.” I stared out the window, wondering if that could be the motive. If Janette had been at the convention with the Belles, and Sharon threatened to rat her out, she might have struck out in panic.
Killian frowned. “You might be right. I tried to call Trish tonight but couldn’t get any answer. She must be devastated by this. I sure didn’t put her niece up to spying at Bebe’s, so it must have been Trish’s idea.”
“Oh God, that makes it worse. Trish is probably blaming herself.”
The parking lot was devoid of other cars, and we’d parked well away from any streetlamps to avoid undue notice. I glanced at the clock. “Almost ten. I guess this is it,” I said but made no move to open my door. The silence between us grew deafening.
Killian slowly leaned over the gearshift. I held my breath as his lips met mine, and sank into the kiss I’d been waiting for. Deep and resonant, filled with hints of dark passion and rolling ocean waves, it reverberated through my body from head to toe, setting me aflame. Gasping, I pulled away, wide-eyed. Killian had the same look, and we stared at one another, not saying a word. After a moment, I reluctantly pulled away.
As I grabbed my tote bag and slipped out of my seat, Killian emerged from the passenger seat and came around to my side, bracing me by the shoulders. I held his gaze, unblinking, then swallowed.
“We’d better get moving,” I said, gesturing to the building. He nodded, and we jogged across the lot, up to the back entrance.
My hunch was correct—I held the master key in my hand. As I unlocked the door, a hush enveloped us. I couldn’t help but think of Sharon, forever hushed, forever silenced. I may not have liked her, but death held such finality…no going back, no saying, “I’ve changed my mind” after you killed someone. No reprieve, for either victim or murderer.
The building was so quiet I could almost hear it breathe. Using my flashlight, I wound along through the darkened corridors toward the stairs. The elevator might be noticed in the silence, if anybody was still around.
Our first destination was Leila’s office. Killian closed the door as I headed for the filing cabinet. I quickly pulled out the files and handed him the one for Donna Prima.
“Here, take this,” I said, grabbing the file for Venus Envy. I paused, then grabbed the rest of them and shoved them in my bag. “No doubt Janette’s already spilling the beans about how Bebe’s company spies and steals. I’m pretty sure Leila will be in here to shred the evidence as soon as she figures out what’s going on, so we might as well take it before she destroys it. I’m headed over to Sharon’s office to look for my journal. They haven’t cleaned out her office. I think they really expected her to recover.”
He nodded. “You will be coming back?”
I gave him a long, hungering look. “I’ve got a good reason to come back. Sharon’s office is near Bebe’s office—it’s on the bottom floor. Room 105. If you need me, come get me.”
With luck, there wouldn’t be anybody working late tonight, I thought as I jogged through the hall. Even so, the corridor seemed twice as long as it had during the daytime. As I jogged toward the stairs, it occurred to me that when I first returned to Gull Harbor I’d been se
eking sanctuary—a safe haven where I could escape from the fear and worry that Elliot’s unsavory coworkers might take it in their heads to come after me because they were mad at him. And now—just look at me. Visions of signing up with the CIA as a female James Bond ran through my head, but I nixed that as quickly as it flashed through my mind. Just because one could do something, didn’t mean one should.
The stairwell was lit by a pale, cold bulb, and I took the stairs two at a time, watching my shadow follow me along the cold concrete wall. Me and my shadow…yep, an army of one, all right.
Sharon’s office was two doors down from Bebe’s and, as I’d hoped, the master key opened it without a single protest. I slipped inside, shining my light over the walls. Motivational posters abounded, as did a plethora of brilliant yellow silk flowers. Sharon’s office was smaller than Leila’s, with no private bath or storeroom. All the easier to search, my dear I thought.
Now where to start? I stared at the desk. If I was Sharon and I wanted to protect the source of what might well be my ticket to a new career, where would I hide it? I was now convinced Bebe knew nothing about my missing journal. This had been Sharon’s little guarantee on the side. She would have known that Bebe, being who she was, would have demanded that she hand over the recipes.
So where would I hide a stolen journal? Not in a drawer. Too easy. Bebe’s Belles were competitive, so I wouldn’t trust a filing cabinet or any place easily accessible by my coworkers. Maybe under something?
I pushed her chair away from the desk and dropped to my knees, peeking into the cubbyhole. And there it was—held to the bottom of the desk by a piece of duct tape.
My journal. I slowly reached for it, pulling the duct tape away from the cover. It stripped away some of the design. Auntie had given me that journal years ago, and now I stared at the torn cover, and tears welled up in my eyes. Damn that bitch! How dare she steal my work? I’d put in long hours over these blends—they were my creations, my art, and she’d been planning on passing them off as her own, with no thought to how I’d feel.