“Well?” Steph chirps. “Spit it out. What was it? Did you see the killer?”
“No.” I press my hand to my chest. “I saw Hazel Newton’s ghost.”
“Ghost?” both Tilly and Steph wail in unison.
We snatch up our purses, Tilly gives a call out to Thea and Flo to watch the café—nice touch leaving Regina out of the culinary loop—and we’re out the door and in Tilly’s beat-up sedan on the road to somewhere.
Carrie Clark will never see us coming.
And unless we can figure out where we’re going, we won’t either.
Chapter 6
It turns out, Carrie Clark works at a place called the Bounce House in the next town over, Scooter Springs.
I’ve been in Vermont long enough to know Scooter Springs is where all the fun yet questionably dicey action goes down, but I suppose they have their fair share of pint-sized hellions, too.
Since we figured the Bounce House would be a hot spot for moms and tots, we came up with the cover that we were looking for a venue to host Tilly’s daughter’s next birthday party. For the sake of nabbing a suspect in our web of parental deceit, Jessie, Tilly’s spicy spawn, will be six, not referenced as being sixteen. Steph volunteers to be the fun aunt, and I’m just a tagalong donut-loving friend. My life in a nutshell.
But no sooner do we set foot inside the establishment than we realize the Bounce House is less of a venue for moms and tots and more of a dads and frat boys kind of a hangout.
The place is dimly lit, there’s a long stage that takes up the entire center of the room, and there are about six different floor-to-ceiling poles, each with a girl spinning over it. The girls up on stage and those roaming the floor with trays of liquor in hand are all scantily clad in what looks to be every slutty Halloween costume you can imagine, not to mention the big hair, big lashes, and big boobs action that seem to be a running theme here, too.
“Great,” I say. “I guess this means Shep will have to spend time here now that he’s taken over the case.”
Tilly ticks her head. “Someone’s got to do the dirty work.”
Stephanie pulls me along. “Let’s beat him to it. See those girls getting dolled up? I bet they’ll know where to find her.”
An entire portion of the back of the room looks as if it’s been transformed into what looks like a dressing room with women lounging around in folding chairs while having their makeup expertly applied and hair transformed into every shape and color by six different people.
A woman in a T-shirt and ripped-up jeans heads our way. Her hair is pulled back into a ponytail, and she doesn’t have a hint of hot pink lipstick or what amounts to a tarantula glued to her eyes.
Steph leans in and sings, “One of these things is not like the other.”
“Stop,” I hiss as the woman steps in.
“Sorry, girls”—she glances at the three of us, and there’s a hint of dismay in her beady little eyes—“we’re not running auditions today.”
Tilly gasps. “You mean you think I’d be good enough?”
The woman takes a moment to size Tilly up. “Sure, why not? I could schedule you for the late shift. By that time everyone is good and liquored up, and the tips are easy.”
“Hear that, Bowie?” Tilly fluffs her hair, and her thick, chunky highlights intermingle with her brunette locks, giving her that brindle look. “I could be spinning poles and raking in the green with the best of them.”
“Yeah, well, too bad. I need you spinning plates at the Manor Café. We’ve got some green there for you, too.” I make crazy eyes at her in the event she falls down the stripper rabbit hole and decides to take the perverted plunge. I lean in close to her ear. “We’re here on a mission, remember? You already have employment.”
She gives a quick nod. “Excuse me?” She looks to the woman in the T-shirt who’s suddenly fully immersed with her cell phone. The woman glances up. “I’m here looking to schedule a birthday party for my—”
“For me.” Steph bounces on the balls of her feet, and I nod her way as if to say good save. Now that we see we’re in the devil’s armpit, no need to drag Tilly’s innocent daughter into this. Not that Jessie is all that innocent, but still, I’m sure the last thing Tilly needs is Jessie getting lured by fast money and cheap tricks. “It’s my party, and I can cry if I want to.” Steph cranes her neck over at beauty central. “Hey? Could you doll me up like that? My new boyfriend would sure get a kick out of it.”
New boyfriend?
Is Mud the new boyfriend?
The girl gives a long blink. “I’m sorry. This section is reserved for our girls only. You’re welcome to the bar. Just know women are generally known as better tippers, so if a dancer comes near you, she’s not there looking for fashion advice.”
A woman with long dark hair and perfectly cut features does a double take our way, and I recognize her as the man-eater that dragged us here to begin with.
“Oh, hey there!” I say a bit too brightly as I head her way. “We met last night. I’m Bowie Binx.”
“Oh yeah.” She wrinkles her nose and smiles. “You’re Miggy’s friend, right?”
“That’s me.” I sling an arm around Stephanie. “It’s my sister’s birthday, and I thought I’d take her out for a drink, but it turns out she’s far more interested in getting her face and hair done-did.”
Carrie bucks with a laugh. “Well, get on over here, girl. I’m the head makeup artist, and my team is just finishing up with the girls that work here. Since it’s October, we thought we’d go a little scarier than usual, hence the special effects.” She points to one of the girls made up to look like a flirtatious feline. “In fact, if you all want to get yourselves dolled up, just take a seat.”
I quickly land in the empty chair beside Carrie and both Tilly and Stephanie plop down on either side of me like a pair of desperate-to-be-beautiful bookends.
“So what’s it gonna be?” she asks.
Tilly leans forward. “I want something that says be afraid, but also hints that I’m a good time.”
Carrie nods. “Sexy zombie.” She snaps her fingers toward a redhead, and soon Tilly is being poked and prodded by what I’m assuming is a seasoned pro.
Stephanie looks up at Carrie. “I’m thinking bride of Frankenstein. Maybe it’ll put my boyfriend in a proposing mood. Come to find out, my last boyfriend, Eddie Ferrari, was a serial cheater. And to think I wasted the prime of my life working as a peon at his mother’s beauty salon.”
I look over. “I thought it was a nail salon?”
“They moved to a bigger location and upgraded. Nevertheless, I want to rock my new man’s world. Think stunning yet dangerous.”
“Bride of Frankenstein it is.” Carrie whistles at someone, and soon the plain pancake in the T-shirt is mixing colors while glowering over at my sister.
“And you?” Carrie spikes her fingers into my hair as if she were mixing a salad. “Got anyone you want to impress tonight?”
Shep comes to mind. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t be too impressed if he knew I was here. Come to think of it, if he sees me made up like a dancing doll, he might be quick to deduce I paid good old Carrie here a visit.