Deadly Traditions, page 6
Humming along with the Christmas carols playing on TV, Pinella tugged the top of her leopard-spotted bra up above the too-low neckline of her pink angora sweater and pulled on the waistline of her yoga pants. “Of course you do, dolly. You want to look your best for that handsome Mr. Dietz, don’t you?” She straightened the neckline of my dark blue velvet dress. “This color really makes your pretty blue eyes pop.”
“Thanks.” I’d opted to leave my long, dark-gold hair loose and curling over my shoulders. When I pulled it back into the bun I’d initially planned on, my rounded cheeks gave me a “chipmunk with a mouth full of acorns” look that wasn’t flattering. Unfortunately, I’d gained a few pounds recently, as I always did around the holidays.
I sighed, tugging on the slightly too tight waistline of the gown. “I’ll be wearing my cloak the whole time anyway. He won’t even see me in the dress.”
“He’s not coming here after?” Pinella asked in her trademark New York City accent. She waggled tattooed eyebrows and winked at me. “Remember dolly, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him off your hands.”
I nearly grinned at that. Dietz would not thank me if I told Pinella she could take a run at him. Not that I ever would. I was pretty much crazy for the guy. And I thought it was safe to assume he felt the same.
“You can’t have him,” I said, grinning at her. “Get your own guy.”
“I been tryin’, dolly. Your sexy neighbor won’t give me the time of day.” She sighed. “I’ve borrowed about fifteen pounds of sugar from him so far, wearin’ my sexiest clothes. And he hasn’t once taken the bait.” She patted her rounded belly. “I’m pretty sure I’m wearin’ those fifteen pounds of sugar in my middle.”
My sugar-begging neighbor was referring to Doug, my mostly monosyllabic next-door neighbor whose medical use of marijuana made him jovial and laid back. But didn’t do anything to make him amenable to the oversexed octogenarian’s wiles.
Pinella eyed the corset. “Are you sure you don’t want to wear the girdle?”
I didn’t bother explaining to her…again…that it wasn’t a girdle. “I’m not going to wear it. You can borrow it tonight if you want.”
Pinella clapped her hands, giddy with excitement. Snatching up the corset, she headed for the door. “What time do you need me there?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Five o’clock. Don’t be late.” Technically, my neighbor hadn’t been invited to carol with us. The event was only supposed to be for my community theatre group. But Pinella had all but begged me to let her come. And I’d heard her sing. She had a loud, beautiful voice. I was planning on standing next to her and mouthing the lyrics in the hopes that everybody would think it was me singing.
From the next room came a high-pitched warbling howl. I smiled at the sound. My dog Shakespeare, an adorable gray Pomeranian with bright button eyes, loved to sing when Jingle Bells came on. He had a very unique howling technique that I was hoping would drown out my own off-key wailing should Mrs. Gerrard somehow escape from my sphere.
As it turned out, Pinella beat me to the town square. She’d made an early entrance, giving one and all a thorough look at her get-up. I had to admit, it was memorable. Rather than the Dickens-esque, Christmas Carol theme we’d been aiming for, Pinella provided a stark injection of the seedier side of an 1843 Christmas. Dressed like a woman of ill-repute in a boob-lifting bodice that showed more wrinkly flesh than anyone ever wanted to see, Pinella was breathing a bit shallowly and her face was the color of beef sausage before it was cooked.
I stopped in front of the older woman and stared into her bulging eyes. “Are you okay?”
She offered me a badly-painted cherry-red smile. “I’m perfect. Don’t I look pretty?”
Pretty was a stretch. Pretty, actually, was a terrible contortion of reality. But the desperate glint in her overly made-up eyes made me pull her into a hug. “You’re gorgeous.”
I left her beaming and went in search of the woman in charge. The square was filled with singers and holiday shoppers. Happy voices drifted over me in the brisk, afternoon air. A real pine Christmas tree consumed the center of the square, its multi-hued lights twinkling happily as piped Christmas tunes filled the air.
I spotted the woman I was looking for a dozen feet away and braced myself for the conversation ahead.
I wasn’t at all sure that Carol Ling hadn’t been selected as the committee head for the caroling event solely on the power of her unfortunate name. However she’d gotten the job, she’d taken it very seriously.
Carol gave me an angry, pinched look as I approached. The two actors who’d been chatting with her nodded at me and fled, clearly happy to get out from under Carol’s judgmental regard. “I can’t believe you invited people to join us,” she bit out before I’d even had a chance to say hello. “That woman looks like a street walker from the eighteen hundreds.” Given that Carol was a severely buttoned up version of the characters we were portraying, I could understand why Pinella’s formidable fashion-busting style would offend her.
“There was really no stopping her, I’m afraid.” I gave Carol what I hoped was an apologetic smile. “Everybody wants in on such a fun event. You’ve outdone yourself,” I said, tugging on my velvet cloak, which was a deep blue like the too-tight dress.
Carol flushed, her pale green eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. “You know the rules, MayBell. If she causes any trouble, you’re responsible.”
In direct opposition to her sour personality, her brooch of white, red, and green bells burst into a tinny rendition of Shakes’ favorite song. He perked up as Jingle Bells played, lifting his head to howl his delight.
“Pinella is in her eighties,” I said, avoiding Carol’s point like the plague. “What trouble could she possibly cause?” I swallowed hard on the heels of that obvious obfuscation. My elderly neighbor was capable of getting into no end of trouble. And the idea that I had to babysit her nearly made me run for home.
Down by my boots, Shakes continued howling as Carol’s Jingle Bells brooch burst into another Christmas tune. He danced happily as he sang along, his bright button eyes sparkling with pleasure.
“I can’t believe you brought that beast,” Carol growled out.
Fortunately for the health of his psyche, Shakes wasn’t paying her any attention. His tail had begun wagging as the theatre group started to warm up their voices for the upcoming song-fest. I decided it was time to get out of Dodge before Carol spotted the other two people I’d invited. “That’s my cue,” I told her with a forced smile. “Time to get ready.”
Carol flapped a bony hand dismissively. “Don’t let that creature poop on the sidewalk.”
I assumed she was referring to Shakes and not Pinella. Short of stuffing the offending orifice with cotton balls, I couldn’t stop my dog from doing his business. But I did have a pocket full of plastic bags to clean up any messes he made, so I figured I had it covered.
“Yo, ho, ho!” called a familiar voice.
I looked up with a grin and searched the crowd for the owner of the voice. My brother Argh, nicknamed for the eye patch he’d had to wear as a kid because of rampant eye infections, strode toward me with the aforementioned patch adorning his handsome face. Since he no longer had to wear the patch to protect his eye, I assumed it was part of his costume.
Shakes barked happily, straining at the leash to reach his favorite uncle.
I watched nearly every woman in the square turn and stare as my handsome brother, dressed as a wealthy rogue from the eighteen hundreds, strode confidently through the crowd, leaving panting women in his wake. “Hey, Miss May.”
I stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you came. Where’s Dani?” Dani Kraft was Argh’s girlfriend. A kick-butt security professional, Dani gave my difficult brother a run for his money and I loved her for it.
“She has to work tonight. She told me to apologize for her. She’s really disappointed.” He leaned closer and whispered, “Between you and me, it’s a blessing. Her voice is even worse than yours and I didn’t think that was possible.”
I smacked him on the arm. “You’re a horse’s backside.”
He grinned rakishly. Glancing around, Argh frowned. “Where’s the other half of the dynamic duo?”
He was referring to my boyfriend and current partner in crime investigations. “Eddie’s stuck on a case. He just texted me.”
“He’s going to miss the big moment,” Argh said. “Wherein everyone in town learns just what a horrible singer you are.”
“Nobody’s going to learn that,” I argued. “Because I’m going to hide in Pinella’s shadow with Shakes as a buffer.”
Argh bent to scoop up my dog, earning himself a plethora of doggy kisses on his nose and cheeks. “So, we’re starting the program with Jingle Bells?”
I nodded happily. “With a follow up of Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.”
“A personal favorite of mine,” Argh said approvingly.
“Shakes likes it too. By the time we get through those two, nobody will even know I exist. I plan to melt quietly into the crowd, mouthing the words as my two beards cover for me.”
Argh chuckled.
“Attention, everyone!” Carol Ling bellowed. “We’re behind schedule. We need to take our places and get started.”
Bodies shifted and collided, apologies flying as we fought to take our assigned spots. Argh took a spot near my right shoulder and I glanced around, hoping Eddie would arrive soon. Somebody hummed a note and we all followed suit, synchronizing our voices.
A woman on the far side of our group cued us with the bells and we were off. Next to me, Pinella let loose, her voice rich and deep. Along with Shakes’ clear, strident howl, my neighbor’s beautiful voice was the perfect entertainment to draw all eyes to them.
Judging by the crowd’s reaction, they were a big hit, leaving me in wonderful, relaxing obscurity behind them.
Then, the group swayed around me and people yelped in surprise as a tall figure with a head full of dirty-blond dreads pushed through the crowd. When the man spotted me, he grinned widely, waving and calling out my name as if the choir of voices around him didn’t exist.
I sighed, trying to hide under the hood of my cloak. Unfortunately, the intruder stopped directly in front of me, lifting his voice to be heard over a rousing chorus of I Wish You a Merry Christmas. “Dude!” he all but shouted.
I put a finger over my mouth, frowning. “Shh! Sing.”
An hour later, the ordeal was over. The group broke up amid happy banter, splitting off into groups to head toward nearby restaurants or bars. I stood in stunned silence, trying to decide if my right ear had been permanently ruined.
“Dude,” the cause of my hearing loss said. He infused the single word with an ocean of meaning.
I turned to him, grimacing as he grinned and waved at my fellow thespians, who would probably spend their evening discussing his ear-shattering high notes and despair-inducing forays into the bass range. “How’d you find us?” I asked my medically-euphoric neighbor.
“That lady with the funny name told me where you were.”
“Carol Ling?” I asked.
“That’s her.” He frowned. “Is that name a joke?”
“Unfortunately not.” I stood on tiptoe and looked around. “Where was she when you talked to her? I need to ask her something about our next caroling event.” I was going to try my best to get out of it.
Doug frowned. “She was over there.” He pointed toward an alley across the street. “But she wasn’t very happy.”
“That’s pretty much business as usual for Carol,” I assured him.
“It’s probably the name thing,” Argh said, joining us. “I’d be cranky if my parents named me Carol Ling too.”
“Dude,” Doug said laughing. His voice was rich with irony.
“What?” Argh asked.
“Your name is Argh,” I told him.
“That’s not my name,” my brother argued. “It’s my brand.”
“Whatever,” Doug and I said in unison.
A shrill scream interrupted our conversation. Argh’s head snapped toward the sound and he took off running across the street, his hand reaching into the back of his velvet breeches for what I suspected was his gun. I took off after him, tripped over my skirt and nearly went to the ground. A strong hand on my arm kept me upright. I looked up into the concerned and sexy gaze of Eddie Dietz, private investigator and my boyfriend. “I just got here,” he explained. “What’s going on?”
“Somebody screamed,” I answered. “It came from over there.”
He nodded and didn’t ask any more questions, just fell in beside me as we hurried across the street. Eddie pushed gently but firmly through the crowd, towing me behind him. We jolted to a stop as we finally cleared the small group of people clogging the alley and saw Argh. He had his cell phone out and was calling for an ambulance.
I tried to see past him to the body draped across the filthy alley floor. Judging by the skirt I could see fanned out around a pair of skinny legs, it was a woman. A moment later, the tinny sound of Jingle Bells sifted our way. And Shakes started to sing.
I knew who the victim was. And judging by the stillness of the prostrate form, Carol Ling would never sing again.
Chapter 2
“Dude!”
I nudged Doug with an elbow. “Shh!” Pulling him to the side, I spoke in low tones. “You said Carol was upset when you talked to her. Do you know why? Was there anybody else in the alley?”
His shaggy blond brows lowered in thought. Given his predilection for medically-approved marijuana, my neighbor’s thought processes were often painful to observe. “Nope nobody.”
My shoulders sagged. It had been too much to hope for. “Okay. I need to find out how she was killed.” I turned away, determined to find Argh and try to trick him out of the information.
“After those three people left, she was alone,” Doug said, his brain apparently on a three second delay.
“What three people?” I asked, biting back frustration.
He shrugged. “They didn’t introduce themselves, May. Even though I told them who I was.” He shook his head. “Such unhappy looking people. They needed to chillax. Life is too short.”
I waved my hands in an attempt to get him to stop babbling. “Hold up. They were upset?”
“Dude! I just told you that.”
“Describe them to me.”
When he frowned again at my tone of voice, I apologized. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to find out what happened to Carol.”
“The woman was crying. Her body language was all closed up, you know? She was turning in on herself for sure.”
“And the others?”
“Two men. One of them had a red face. He looked mad. He kept glaring back over his shoulder.”
“At Carol?”
Doug shrugged. “Maybe. I guess he could have been upset about the overflowing dumpster. It’s pretty nasty in there. I think I saw a rat. Though, it might have been a small cat with no hair on its tail. I only got a quick look at the thing.”
Sighing, I rubbed my face. Most times, Doug could go whole weeks saying nothing other than “Dude,” with different inflections to indicate his meaning. I suddenly missed those times. “And the third person?”
“He was upset too. It was probably because of the scratches on his cheek. Somebody really tore into that guy.”
I grabbed Doug’s arm. “Stay right here. I need to get Argh.”
“Dude?”
“It’s important. She might have DNA under her fingernails.”
“Dude!”
“I’ll be right back.”
“We found the woman Doug saw,” my brother the police detective told me. “I’m going to interview her later.”
“Do you need help?” I asked, giving him my best “helpful sister” look.
Unfortunately, if there was anyone my acting expertise didn’t work on, it was Argh, who saw the best and the worst liars and actors in his line of work. “Nice try, MayNot. Dad would have my head if I brought you along on a suspect interview.”
“Dad” was Lieutenant George Ferth, Argh’s boss and the uber-controlling patriarch of the Ferth clan. Argh was right. Dad would birth kittens if he found out I was sticking my nose into another murder. Unfortunately for him, Carol’s death hit way too close to home for me to ignore it. “Come on, Argh. You wouldn’t even know about the three suspects in the alley if it wasn’t for me.”
“Actually, it was your pot-head neighbor who gave us the information, but nice try MayBee.”
I glared at him. He stared back at me with neutral cop face.
I sighed. “You know Eddie and I will just investigate behind your back if you don’t let me help.”
Our glares clashed for a long moment and then he nodded, his expression fierce.
Oh, oh.
I was already turning away, preparing to run when he called to one of the uniformed cops. “Baker, I need you to take my sister in.”
I started to run. Behind me, I heard a bass voice ask, “What’s the charge, Detective?”
I didn’t wait around for Argh’s response. Spotting Eddie chatting up an attractive female cop near the barrier, I shoved a rush of jealousy away and hurried over to them. Giving the attractive uniformed cop an insincere smile, I looked at Eddie. “We need to leave.”
He nodded, recognizing the urgency in my expression, and waved goodbye to the cop. “Thanks for the info, Sarah.”
I was already hightailing it toward Eddie’s truck, which was parked across the street. Shakes yipped his disapproval of our too-fast gate. “Sorry, buddy. I’ve got the PoPo on my tail.”
Eddie chuckled. “Argh?”
“He threatened to arrest me for trying to help with the investigation.”
