Makeovers Can Be Murder (7 page)

″Shaina? I′m Dr. Sanders,″ she announced. ″The nurse is going to give you something to help you feel a little bit more relaxed, and then you′re going to sleep for a while.″

As the nurse prepared a syringe, Shaina writhed on the bed, moaning and calling for her mother.

The doctor caught my eye and motioned for me to step outside the room. She followed me into the hallway, then said, ″I appreciate your being here, but it′s best for Shaina to simply sleep right now. Her stepfather is on his way here, along with someone else in her family.″

″Do you think she should see her stepfather after what she just said about him? She seems to think he′s behind her mother′s murder. I′m wondering if we should—″

Dr. Sanders dismissed my question with a wave of her hand. ″Paranoid thinking is common during the first stages of shock and grief,″ she said. ″Victims want to blame someone, and they often focus on someone with whom there′s been some family tension. It doesn′t mean anything. By tomorrow, she won′t even remember saying any of that.″

As I hesitated, she added, ″You should probably head home for a while—we′ve given her enough medication to make sure she′ll sleep for at least eight hours. I suggest you come back around two o′clock this afternoon to see her.″

When I looked in on Shaina again, her eyes were closed and she was pulling in deep, rag gedy breaths, as if she were still sobbing in her sleep. Then the medication must have kicked all the way in, because her breathing rhythm gradually evened out.

The nurse who′d been monitoring Shaina′s pulse looked down at her and made a clicking noise with her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

″This poor little lamb is going to have a very hard time,″ she said to me. ″Imagine a young girl losing her mother like that. It′s a horrible thing. It should never happen that way.″

″I know.″

″There′ve been so many carjackings recently,″ the nurse said. ″It′s getting to where we′re all afraid to drive around at night.″

Reluctantly, I decided that the doctor was right—it was time for me to go. There was nothing I could do for Shaina right then. I decided to return in the afternoon to see how she was doing.

I headed back to a space of tree-lined curb stretching beyond the emergency room area, where I′d left my car parked illegally. A few threads of citrine light were beginning to probe the edges of the horizon, but it was still dark in this area.

I was so lost in thought that I didn′t pay any attention to a pillar-shaped shadow behind my car. Then the pillar moved. It stepped forward and grabbed my arm.

I let out a startled scream. Using the hand that was wrapped around my keys, I lashed out with an uppercut.

My jab was stopped in midair by something that felt like a baseball mitt; then my fist was gently lowered back to my side.

″Cripes almighty, Kate; if you′ve been taking self-defense courses, get a refund.″

The voice belonged to Fish, the private detective. He released my hand from his ham-hock grip.

″Dammit, Fish. Let a person know you′re standing there next time,″ I said, struggling to bring my hammering pulse under control. ″Didn′t your mother teach you not to sneak up on people? ″

″My mother was too busy flattening my ass with a frying pan to give me that little tip. And here′s one for you—you should learn to be more aware of what′s going on around you.″

″Thanks, Pop. I needed that.″

″How′s Jana′s daughter doing?″

″Her doctor gave her some heavy-duty meds, so she′s sleeping right now. Physically she seems okay, I guess. Lots of bruising. She got pretty hysterical right before they put her under.″

″Did you find out where the two of them were headed when their car got jumped?″

″To RDU Airport. Shaina told me her mother was driving her to catch a plane to L.A. Evidently they were going to meet there later and take a cruise together.″

Fish slammed his fist into his palm. ″God dammit, just like I thought. It′s my fault.
I′m
the one who told Jana to leave the country for a while,″ he said. ″Those motherfuckers are going to regret this. Now they′ve gone and killed my client.
My
client. I′m going to make them sorry they were ever born.″

″Why do you say ′they′? Shaina saw only one guy.″

″These scumbags always work in packs. They′re friggin′ jackals.″

He cocked back his boot, then landed a vicious kick on the rear tire of my car.

″Knock it off, Fish,″ I said, putting a restraining hand on his arm. ″It′s not your fault, and tearing up my car isn′t going to bring Jana back.″

Fish looked sheepish. ″Sorry, Kate. Nice ride, by the way,″ he said. ″You must be climbing up the social ladder.″

″The only thing that′s climbing up the social ladder right now are my car payments.″

After a beat I added, ″A moment ago you said ′packs.′ Do you mean gangs?″

″No question about it,″ Fish replied. ″I′ve heard there′s one GPDU gang behind most of the carjackings in Durham this month.″

″GPDU? What′s that?″

″Gratuitous public display of underwear. You know—the saggers and baggers.″

″Yeah, I know. Those are the guys who like to dress like they′re high on plumber′s crack. Pants hanging all low.″

″You got it.″

I decided to tell Fish about what Shaina had said about her stepfather, Gavin—that he was behind her mother′s murder.

″Shaina seemed convinced that he was behind the carjacking—she said that he wanted them both killed. The doctor said that was the hysteria talking. What do you think?″

Fish took a moment to consider. ″On its face, that notion is pretty far-fetched. Most crimes are just what they seem to be, and this one walks and talks like a simple carjacking.″

″You don′t make that sound very convincing.″

Fish ground some loose asphalt under the toe of his boot. ″Let me think about this a bit more before I go shooting my mouth off. I don′t want to say anything that′ll turn out to be from left field.″

″C′mon, Fish,″ I said, my tone urgent. ″Talk to me. Jana was my friend. I need to know what′s going on.″

He sighed. ″Okay, but this is only for your ears,″ he said. ″In the few hours I was working the case, I was able to dig up a few real nasty tidbits about that husband of hers, ′Gavin.′ For example, he changed his name to Gavin from Guido. And he didn′t grow up in Europe—he was raised in Boston. What a low-life piece of work. That′s why I advised Jana to take a vacation. I wanted her out of the way for a while.″

″Why?″

″Jana told me that Gavin′s first wife died in a car accident in Omaha. But she evidently didn′t know that his previous wife′s accident was considered suspicious.″

″Suspicious how?″

″There was a bunch of stuff that didn′t add up. I talked to a detective in Omaha. He told me they couldn′t make a solid case, so no one was ever charged.″

I felt a storm front move through my stomach. ″Did the police suspect
Gavin
in that woman′s murder?″

″Yup. Evidently they were really going after him, and so was the life insurance company. But they finally dropped it for lack of evidence. The insurance company eventually paid him off.″

″How much did he get?″

″Four hundred thousand dollars. The instant he blew through all that money he married Jana.″

″But she told me over lunch yesterday that she has a prenuptial agreement. Wouldn′t that—″

″A prenup only protects her assets while she′s alive. She left him a very healthy life insurance policy. What a colossal mistake her high-priced attorney let her make. I told her to change the beneficiary before she left town. I hope to hell she did.″

″How healthy?″

″Two million dollars.″

That could be two million reasons for murder.

Chapter 11

Keep the Air Moist in Winter Months

—From
The Little Book of Beauty Secrets
by Mimi Morgan

 

 

After leaving Mercy Hospital, I drove home through a thick southern mist, the kind that clings to the car and makes you try your windshield wipers in vain. But at least the monsoons had lifted. The morning rush-hour traffic reminded me that it was still early in the day, which seemed oddly surprising; eons seemed to have passed since I′d been jolted awake by Roe′s telephone call.

Inside my kitchen I made a pot of coffee while mulling over what I′d learned about Jana′s husband, Gavin. Could he have arranged her death as some kind of hit for hire? As a reporter I′d covered plenty of stories where murder had been committed for much less gain than a two-million-dollar insurance policy. Especially if he′d known that she was planning to leave him, Gavin had plenty of motive to arrange her death.

I yearned to talk to Jonathan. He′d know instinctively whether there was any real cause for suspicion about Jana′s husband. Probably he′d tell me not to worry about it—that Luke was a great cop, and that the evidence would steer the investigation.

Before trying Jonathan, I put in a call to Evelyn and told her what had happened.

As soon as she recovered from the immediate shock about Jana′s murder, Evelyn promised to call our friends in the Durham area to give them the tragic news.

Except for Trish. I needed to call her myself.

During our last conversation, Jana had mentioned that she′d left her purse behind at Trish′s house on the night of the Newbodies meeting. I didn′t know whether she′d had a chance to reclaim the bag before the carjacking. It was a beat in the story that sounded off, like an engine misfiring a cylinder.

Evelyn, who′d put down the phone to print out her contact list, returned to the line.

″Oh, Kate,″ she said. ″Everyone in our group is going to be so incredibly devastated when they hear about Jana. And frightened.″

″By the carjacking, you mean?″

″By the fact that it′s happened again to our support group. Jana is the second member of the Newbodies to be killed.″

Chapter 12

What′s your Most Important Beauty Asset?

Believe it or not, self-confidence really
is
your most important beauty asset. If you doubt that fact, simply consider the career of Sarah Jessica Parker. On the power of sheer self-confidence, she packaged her crone′s nose and so-so features and somehow managed to convince the world that she is one of the great beauties of the ages.

So what′s the take-home lesson of Sarah Jessica
Parker for you? You have to really, really,
really
believe in
yourself. (Oh, plus you have to dress well and have a
lot of talent and work out constantly to get a killer bod.)

—From
The Little Book of Beauty Secrets
by Mimi Morgan

 

 

″Someone
else
was killed?″ I asked Evelyn. ″Who? How come I never heard about it?″

″I didn′t know her,″ Evelyn replied. ″Her name was Anaïs Loring. She died last spring right before I joined the Newbodies. Anaïs was the group′s founder. Everyone said she was very charismatic.″

″Was it a carjacking?″

″No,″ she said. ″Anaïs was killed in a home-invasion robbery. There was lots of stuff stolen from her home, including her jewelry and credit cards. Anaïs was found shot dead in her kitchen. ″

The story rang a distant bell. I must have heard about the Anaïs Loring murder at the time. I′d have to look it up when I got back to the studio. Talk about being behind the times.

While I was thinking, Evelyn continued. ″The police never arrested anybody in Anaïs′s murder, ″ she said. ″And now
Jana
′s dead. And last week another woman in our group got her identity stolen. So I′m thinking—″

″Wait a second. Slow down, Evelyn,″ I said as her implication sunk in. ″You think the two murders—of Jana and Anaïs—are linked? A home invasion and a carjacking? And that the killings are connected somehow to the identity theft of another woman in the group?″

When Evelyn didn′t respond, I added, ″Iden tity theft usually happens when someone logs on to a bad Web site on the Internet. What makes you think it has anything to do with Jana? Or Anaïs?″

″I don′t know exactly,″ Evelyn admitted. ″But it feels like some evil karma is stalking the Newbodies. I′m even wondering if we should disband the group.″

 

When my conversation with Evelyn wrapped up, I punched in Jonathan′s number. I was already mentally rehearsing the message I wanted to leave, the precise words that would let him know how urgent it was that I speak to him right away.

Jonathan surprised me by picking up on the third ring.

″Hallo,″ he said.

″Hi, sweetie; it′s me.″

A slight pause. ″Of course. How′ve you been?″ Jonathan′s tone was stilted.

″Well, I just wanted to reach you in general,″ I began, thinking how lame my words sounded. ″And especially today, because something has happened.″

″Oh.″ Another weird pause. ″Kate, I′m sorry, but is it okay if I call you right back? I′m—″

From his end of the line I heard a strange noise. It sounded like the trilling sound a caged bird makes. Then there was a muffled sound, as if Jonathan was covering the receiver with his hand. Or maybe someone was trying to grab it from him.

″Is everything all right with you there?″ I asked, worried now. ″Is it your mother? Is she okay?″

″Mum′s fine. I′ve just been busy because some things came up. I′ll call you when I—″

Another sound of a struggle that ended in a peal of female laughter. Then a different voice came on the line. It was a woman′s voice.