Merlot and Murder Page 8

  "He's staying with them, right? So why don't we go check out the room he's staying in?"

  My stomached lurched. "We just got out of jail for trespassing, Karen. Do you really want to do that all over again? What if we get caught? I don't think Ken can just bail us out like that the second time around."

  "We won't get caught. I'll make sure of it. And speaking of lover boy, don't you have a date to get ready for?" she said, waggling her eyebrows.

  "I just love when you change subjects," I replied, sticking my tongue out at her.

  "We'll worry about checking out Kevin after Ken's had the chance to check you out. But first, you need to do something about all this," Karen said, waving her hands vaguely in the direction of my face and hair.

  "That bad, huh?" I didn't even want to think about how dark the circles under my eyes were. It was one of the fun perks of being so pale.

  "Nah, nothing you can't fix, anyway. Have you tried using your powers to do makeup or your hair yet?"

  My cheeks went warm as I shook my head. "Don't look at me like that! I just haven't gotten around to it yet. I'm not really much of a makeup person. Usually I just slap on some chapstick and mascara and call it a day."

  "Yes, I know. And I'm pretty much the same, but it's a shame not to have a little fun with your magic every now and then," Karen replied as she stood up and stretched her arms overhead. "I can give you a couple spells to try out if you want."

  "Nothing too crazy?"

  "Nothing too crazy," she repeated with a grin. "We're just trying to get you ready for a little kissing action, not prep you for the ball."

  And just like that, the image of Ken's full lips only inches from mine infiltrated my thoughts and I bit my lip, trying to get rid of it. "Okay, sure."

  Karen gave me explicit instructions, and I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, turning this way and that to figure out just what I wanted to do. I half-expected my reflection to haul off and slap me from poking and prodding at my face so much, but that wasn't how magic worked. As far as I knew, anyway.

  With my auburn hair and pale skin, I knew purple and green tended to look the best on me, and since I was already going to wear purple as it was, I figured doing a subtle green smokey eye would look okay.

  However, I'd never pulled off a successful smokey eye anything, which is what I was hoping I could get some magical assistance with.

  I slipped the strappy purple sundress over my head and adjusted it around my waist, smoothing it out over my hips. I didn't really have any cute heels to pair with it, so I dove into my closet until I found some gold sandals that didn't look half bad. I threw them on the bed and turned back to the mirror to get started.

  "I'll just, start with my hair. Oh, this is a promising start—I'm already talking to myself."

  Karen snickered in the living room, the pages of her magazine flipping deliberately. "Stop stalling, Taylor."

  "Can't you just come in here and do it for me?" I whined. Honestly, Karen would probably be able to just snap her fingers and make me look decent enough.

  "I already told you, beauty spells like this work best when you perform them yourself."

  Of course they did. I heard her get up from the couch and a minute later, her bathroom door had shut. Well, so much for getting her opinion.

  Brushing my long hair out and drawing in a deep breath, I focused on my intention. "Ut animus meus. Cincinnusroa meum. Circumrotoroa capillus, et mantoroa candens."

  Instead of having to section off piece by piece of my hair, each thick lock lifted up and sprung into a soft ringlet one at a time, going all the way around my head. My jaw dropped.

  "Wow! Did I actually just do it? Did this actually just work?"

  The curls seemed to brush themselves out a little until I was left with beach waves. A huge grin broke across my face. Now it was time for the makeup.

  "Okay. Green, smokey eye. I can do this."

  I spoke the spell Karen had given me out loud and closed my eyes, letting the magic do its thing. It was like having someone powder my face with one of those big poufs, the smell and taste of the magic sickly sweet enough to make me gag.

  Oddly enough, I could feel that something had been done to my face, and when I opened my eyes I saw just exactly what it was.

  "Oh my God!"

  I backed up quickly, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. Like a very, very ugly fish.

  My shriek sent Karen careening into my bedroom, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.

  Her dark eyebrows nearly met her hairline as I looked at her. She let out the biggest belly laugh I'd ever heard, and tears sprang up in her eyes as she leaned against my wall, shaking her head. "I have got to take a picture of this."

  "No way. Not happening," I growled, preemptively covering up the wreck that was my face. "Just help me fix it!"

  "You know what you look like, though? Like a drag queen who just discovered fake lashes and self-tanner. Like, whoa. How did you get your face to look so orange?"

  "I swear to god, Karen. Don't just stand there staring—fix it!"

  Karen just rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

  When she was finished a few minutes later, I was left with a dewy complexion that was like a better version of my skin, with thick lashes curled just right and even the subtle green smokey eye I'd been going for. My lips had just enough color, and maybe it was just my imagination but even my eyes seemed to sparkle.

  In the reflection I met her gaze and sighed. "Thanks. That looks so, so much better."

  She winked. "I can't have my best friend going off on a first date looking like a sad hooker."

  Chapter 15

  "What if he doesn't show up?"

  "Stop."

  "What if I accidentally laugh too loudly, and somehow turn him into a frog?"

  Karen snorted. "That would be both hilarious and horrifying. But it's not going to happen."

  I smoothed down the front of my dress, checking my makeup for the umpteenth time in the mirror by the front door. "God, I hope I'm not this much of a mess on the actual date."

  "You will be fine, dear," Barbara said, strolling over, already wearing her silky kimono for the night. "From what I've heard, he's already sweet on you. I wouldn't worry about it."

  Maybe she didn’t think I should worry about it, but my brain was in total freak-out mode. “Right. But is it normal to feel like I’m sweating buckets?” I lifted up my arm, inspecting it in the mirror. “What if my deodorant wears off and I start to stink?”

  “Now you’re just being ridiculous,” Karen said, flipping the page of the book she was reading. "In fact, what time is it, anyway? The sooner he gets here, the sooner you can get rid of the anticipation aggravation and actually enjoy yourself."

  I shook out my hands and took a deep breath. I’d lost count of how many times I had to remind myself that this wasn’t a huge deal. Probably because it felt like the hugest of deals. "Right, right," I muttered under my breath as I tried calming myself down. "This isn't a big deal. I'll just be myself, and hope that I don't unintentionally make the chairs start to float around us at the restaurant or something,"

  There was a knock on the door and all three of us jumped, startled.

  "Now you've got us all shook up," Barbara laughed, clutching her chest. "Don't just leave the poor young man standing around waiting, Taylor, dear."

  I looked between the two of them as they smiled at me, and failed at trying to reciprocate with one of my own. It was as if my mouth had suddenly stopped working. "Please keep your phone on you, just in case," I told Karen.

  She didn’t bother looking up from her book. "In case of?"

  "In case I need to bail for some reason. Need I remind you that I haven't been on a real date in practically forever? If things start heading south I want to know that I have a way out."

  "Fine. I'll text you in an hour. If all is well, don't bother texting me back. If things are going badly—which they so will not be—then I'll cal
l you and make something up. Okay? Now will you please get out of here? You're interrupting my precious reading time," she said, waving toward her book over the edge of the sofa.

  Without another look back, I slowly opened the front door, my heart in my throat.

  Ken's green and hazel-flecked eyes widened as I pulled the door all the way open with a smile.

  "Wow, you look great." In his hand was a small bouquet of wildflowers that just so happened to match the little flowers on my clutch. He offered them to me looking a little dazed. "Here, these are for you. I was out earlier and I saw them and thought of you. If they're not your thing or if it's a little too old-fashioned, I can always—"

  "They're perfect," I said, gently taking them from his outstretched hand. "And it was very sweet of you. Thank you." Barbara, who was right out of his view, took them from me, humming a happily to herself.

  "Great. That's great," Ken replied, still smiling. It was hard not to stare right back at him. Gone was his usual business suit, replaced by a pair of nice dark slacks and a red shirt that really showed off what I hadn't noticed before: Ken was in very good shape. His biceps subtly bulged under the sleeves, and I reminded myself that maybe drooling on the first date wasn’t such a good idea. The casual matching blazer he had thrown over completed the look in a way that made my mouth not want to work properly. "You look really nice too, by the way."

  "Oh, ha. Thank you, I wasn't exactly sure how to dress for the occasion," he laughed, tugging on his jacket's sleeve. Leaning in, he dropped his voice low. "It's been a while since I've done one of these."

  I couldn't help but beam back at him. "It's been a while for me, too."

  The sign for Mercutio’s Italia blinked over the restaurant, beckoning us with a round chef's face winking at us next to the name.

  Ken paused after parking, looking up at the sign. "Of course, we can always go somewhere outside of town, if you'd like. I know Mercutio’s isn't the fanciest place, but I thought maybe it would be nice to just relax and not put so much, I don't know, pressure on ourselves."

  I placed my hand on his arm, finally giving into the thought, and shook my head. "Mercutio’s is totally fine. I love their soups and pasta. And I think it's a good idea to just relax, too. No need for things to be weird or anything, right?"

  This seemed to please him as he looked down at my hand. "Perfect. Well then, I guess we should go grab some delicious soup and pasta."

  Ken slipped out of the car while I grabbed my clutch, coming around to my side to open the door for me. It was definitely not what I was used to with previous dates, but I couldn't deny how special it made me feel. I thanked him and got out, already inhaling the scent of the freshly-baked bread they served with every meal inside.

  "I don't know about you, but I'm starving," Ken said, pulling the front door open for me.

  My stomach rumbled in reply. "Yeah, I could definitely eat."

  The young hostess smiled pleasantly at us, recognizing Ken. "Good evening. I take it this isn't one of your usual business meals, Mr. Leeman?"

  "Not in the slightest. As you can see, my company is much easier on the eyes than the rest of the guys at James & Sons."

  Heat blazed across my cheeks as she nodded, stepping out from behind the podium and grabbing a couple of menus. "Right this way, please."

  The hostess seated us toward the back of the restaurant behind a white lattice that gave us a little bit of privacy. The window overlooked the side street, where people were out for a nice summer stroll. With the moon full overhead spilling its light over Rosemary Creek, it couldn't look more picturesque.

  "Can I get you two started with anything to drink? Maybe some wine or cocktails?"

  I bit my lip. Would he think I was a total lush if I started off with a cocktail?

  "I'm not really much of a wine guy myself, but do you have any beer on tap?" Ken asked, obviously not inwardly freaking out over this the way I was.

  She took his drink order and looked over at me expectantly. "And you, miss?"

  "I'll take a gin and tonic, please. And a glass of ice water, too."

  Soft music played over the quiet conversations around us, and I fiddled with my napkin, trying to carefully place it in my lap.

  "So, how's the investigating going? I didn't really know the guy, but a couple of people around the office did. They said he seemed nice enough."

  "It's going. We have a few people on our list."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

  "I wouldn't say we’re leaning towards one suspect more than the others, but yes. There are different possible motives for killing him," I explained. I couldn't exactly admit to Ken that Karen and I were planning on sneaking into the Stowe's house while they were away so we could go through Kevin Stowe's belongings. As much as we were to be getting along, I wasn't stupid.

  Our waitress came over to introduce herself, slinging us our drinks with the kind of grace that made it clear to me that I could never be a server. We thanked her and I took a long sip from the orange fruity drink, sighing. "That's delicious."

  I watched as Ken took a sip from the frothy beer, a smiling crossing his face as he set it back down. "Ditto."

  The waitress stood there expectantly, looking between us as if we were missing something. "And have you decided on your food?"

  It was a huge relief to hear Ken laugh as I tried to hold back the ugly snort I knew was trying to bust through. "Yeah uh, we might need a few more minutes. Sorry about that," he apologized. "I wasn't really checking out the food."

  How many times was I going to turn the color of a tomato tonight? "Same," I repeated, trying to play it cool.

  We looked over our menus, teasing each other about the possible food choices. When I mentioned how much I loathed shellfish, Ken claimed he was going to buy a whole lobster and expected me to take a claw. But I got him back by telling him about the time my dad snagged a swordfish while out in the open ocean, after Ken confessed how terrified he was of them.

  Placing our orders, I glanced out the window beside us, trying not to stare at our reflection. I could see Ken watching me carefully, and it took every ounce of effort not to look right back at him. Ken was so different from the guys I'd dated in the past that it was a little unnerving to be on an actual date with such a kind, handsome person. I almost wanted to test it by pinching myself.

  Once our food came I learned that despite his generally more reserved nature, Ken was a pretty talkative guy. In fact, most of my food had gone cold before I got around to eating it while talking with him.

  "So, what did you do then?"

  Ken took the last sip of his beer, watching me, grinning. "I stood up in front of the judge and told him that under no circumstances would my client be able to cover Mr. Whitlow's medical bills when Mr. Whitlow himself had attested that he only went into the emergency room to steal their morphine. And, well, it was pretty much case closed after that."

  I shook my head. "Who does that? Like, willingly admits that they stole medicine from a hospital. That's insane!"

  "The judge wasn't too amused, believe me. He sentenced the guy to one year in prison and mandatory participation in the in-prison drug rehab program."

  I spun my noodles onto my fork before taking a small bite, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. Whoever thought eating noodles on a first date was a good idea clearly didn't Hoover down their food like I did.

  "The craziest situation we've have to deal with in the shop so far is," I trailed off, remembering that I couldn't exactly tell him about my magical misgivings inside Creekside Trinkets. "Uh, when we had a couple come in looking for massage oils."

  "Oh no! Anything but massage oils!" Ken said in mock surprise.

  "Not just any massage oils though," I added, giving him a knowing look. "They thought we were a different kind of souvenir store. We only caught on when the woman asked us where we kept our handcuffs and ropes. And you know Barbara," I continued as Ken's mouth dropped open. "She's just such a giving
person. She looked up the nearest store that carried their, needed essentials, and even talked them into buying some of our luxury bath bombs. It was hilarious."

  "Wow," Ken said, chuckling as he scratched as his chin. "She is one talented saleswoman."

  He looked out the window, his huge grin spreading from one side to the other. I had to tear my gaze away from his cute dimple, and looked out the window too, at the lights twinkling in the bushes.

  "Wait. What’s that?" I asked.

  While most of the lights in the bushes blinked on and off, one light, different from the rest in size, stayed on non-stop. It took me a second to realize it was attached to the back of a phone, and a hand with spiderly-like fingers held it in a vise-like grip.

  Ken's face turned beet red and he glared out the window at the person with the kind of look I'd never seen on his face before.

  The person seemed to realize that they were caught, and dashed out of the bushes, running out across the side street to the opposing block without looking back.

  The short hair and thick white cat sweater in the middle of August gave her away. It was Corrine Leeman—Ken's mother.

  I didn't know who was more embarrassed: me, Ken, or Corrine as she ran off from the bushes. I kind of hoped it was her because even as weird as it was, I thought it was a little funny too. Leave it up to Corrine Leeman to find a way to ruin her own son's date.

  I looked over at Ken, watching the way his nostrils flared as he stared hard out the window. It looked like he was the winner of the Most Embarrassed award for the night.

  I cleared my throat, digging back into my food. "That was pretty weird. But I've seen someone dump ice water over their boyfriend’s head before in here, so it could've been worse."

  Ken sighed. "She's got to stop this ridiculousness. It's like she thinks I'm a child or something." This was an old agitation, I could tell. And with a mother like Corrine, I couldn't say I was surprised.