his mouth, and I was relieved. Yes, teasing.
“You can step on his toes. Please.”
“Okay. I’ll go, but he’ll probably be disappointed when he sees me.”
I didn’t much care. And it would kill two birds with one stone, too, since if Joel came along, no one could say I was stepping out on Bixby. While I was uncertain about the future of our relationship, I didn’t want to create trouble.
I picked up my cell phone. “I’m calling Tim.” As I spoke, I punched his number into the phone.
“What is it now, Brett?” Tim never said hello, just like Jeff Coleman never said good-bye.
“Did you know that Daisy was being replaced in the band? By someone named Ainsley? And she’s a redhead?”
He was silent. I’d gotten his attention.
Then, “How do you know this?”
I told him all about Sherman Potter. When I was done, I heard his short intake of breath.
“How do you manage it?” he asked.
“Manage what?”
“To get involved even when you’re not involved?”
“I am involved,” I said. “I mean, the redhead thing and the tattoo ink made you call me in the first place. Flanigan wanted me to keep my ear to the ground. Well, I did, and here’s the information I managed to get.”
He chuckled. “All within a couple hours. You’re amazing, little sister. I will pass this along. But promise me, you’re not going to go over to Cleopatra’s Barge tonight, are you?”
I hadn’t mentioned my “date” with Harry. Didn’t think there was a reason to, until now. “Um…”
“I don’t want you there. And if I see you anywhere near the place, I’ll carry you out myself.”
Now this was something I hadn’t anticipated. “You’re going to go over there?”
“We’re investigating a murder, Brett. Of course I’m going to go over there.”
“Murder?” I felt my heart start to pound a little faster. “So she was murdered?”
He was quiet a second, probably trying to figure out how to get around this, since he probably didn’t mean to say anything in the first place but screwed up. Then, “It’s looking like that, yes.”
“How?”
“She had an allergic reaction to something, Brett. Anaphylactic shock. Her throat closed up and she couldn’t breathe. If she’d gotten to a hospital, they probably would’ve been able to save her.”
My brain was hung up on the words “allergic reaction.”
He kept talking.
“Considering what you told us about her allergy to red dye and the symptoms and that infected tattoo, we think that’s what killed her.”
“You
“Nothing’s official until the autopsy results come in, but she had an allergic reaction to something,” Tim said. “So this is why you have to stay completely out of it now. You’re in the clear, but this Ainsley person who now happens to be a redhead who happens to be taking Dee Carmichael’s place in the band is definitely on my radar.”
Seemed he had a suspect and a clear motive all rolled up into one, thanks to yours truly. But instead of feeling happy that justice would be served, I felt a little deflated. I still wanted to confront Ainsley Wainwright about those pictures of me on her blog.
I said as much to Tim.
“Don’t worry, little sis. We’ll cover that, too.”
Like I said, all wrapped up.
It was so unsatisfying, though.
I had no way to reach Harry Desmond to let him know I wouldn’t be going with him tonight. I sent Joel home when Bitsy left, because his services wouldn’t be necessary after all. Ace had left earlier because he had a legitimate date. I tried calling Bixby back, but just got his voice mail. Guess I deserved that. I didn’t leave a message.
I was cleaning up my room, throwing ink pots and used needles away, when I heard the bell on the door. I hadn’t locked up, since we were technically still open, but when we didn’t have any late clients, we would close early on occasion.
I figured it must be Harry and braced myself to explain the situation as I went out to the front to meet him.
But it wasn’t Harry.
Jeff Coleman stood just inside the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared up at Ace’s most recent works of art. When he saw me approach, he grinned.
“Quiet around here, Kavanaugh.”
Jeff was an inch or so shorter than my own five-nine, with a salt-and-pepper buzz cut. A life lived hard showed in his face. He’d been in the Marines, served in the first Gulf War, and taken over his mother’s tattoo shop about ten years ago. He used to smoke like a chimney but gave it up recently. There were some allusions to drinking and drugs, but by all appearances, he wasn’t into all of that now. At least not that I’d seen.
“Let everyone go early,” I said. “I’m leaving shortly myself.” I glanced quickly out the glass door to see if Harry was around yet, but I didn’t see him.
“Expecting someone?” Jeff asked, coming toward me.
I shrugged. “I sort of have a date. But I have to cancel.”
“That’s harsh, Kavanaugh. Canceling when he shows up. Why don’t you just call him?”
“I can’t. I don’t have his number.”
He frowned, but to his credit didn’t say anything. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Maybe I want to check out the competition,” he said. “See how the other half lives.”
Jeff liked to try to get under my skin about how I had a more upscale shop, where we did only custom tattoos, as compared to his street shop where he only did flash, the stock tattoos that lined the walls of his shop. I hate to admit it, but it usually worked.
Not tonight, though. I was too distracted by Harry’s impending arrival.
“Really, Jeff, why are you here?”
“Maybe I’m a little worried about you. You know, those pictures on that blog. I got the sense that it shook you up a bit.” He noticed I was looking outside again. “Are you expecting the doc?”
He meant Colin Bixby. I shook my head. “No.”
A wide smile spread across his face. “You have a new boyfriend?”
I made a face at him.
“A new girlfriend?”
I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me why you’re here.”
The smile disappeared. “I was worried about you, like I said. I don’t like the idea of pictures of you showing up on that blog, that someone’s saying you’re to blame for that girl’s death.”
I studied his face, looking for any sign of a joke, that he was teasing me. But he really seemed sincere. Stranger things have happened, I’m sure, but I couldn’t think of any right at the moment. “Tim’s on top of it,” I said. “In fact, I don’t even need to go out anymore-that’s what I have to tell Harry.”
“Harry?”
“Harry Desmond.”
Jeff’s expression was incredulous. “Harry Desmond? That’s who your date is?”
“What of it? You know him?”
He barked out a laugh. “You surprise me, Kavanaugh.”
