Never saw the man, she yips. And I’m sorry, Bizzy, but I don’t remember her calling him by any other name.
“No need to apologize,” I say, watching as Leo takes off with a wave, and I wave back. Another thought hits me. “How about the word maiden? Have you ever heard her mention that?”
She gives a soft bark. Oh yes, I’ve heard her mention the Maidens plenty of times. The Midnight Maidens this—the Midnight Maidenss that. It was happening all the time.
I suck in a quick breath. “The Midnight Maidens?” Those words Blair spoke the night she died suddenly make sense. She said just because we have midnight in our name, doesn’t mean we need to start at midnight. Huh. I guess that’s one mystery solved. But it bloomed right into another. “Sprinkles, do you know what the Midnight Maidens were about? Something to do with her real estate ventures maybe? A club?”
She whimpers. I’m afraid I can’t recall much more than that. She was always saying how she had a love-hate relationship with them. She called them her witches. And how I wish I would have paid better attention beyond that.
“Not to worry. But if you think of anything else, let me know.”
Her witches? Could this be a cult of some sort? Leave it to Camila to embroil herself in a coven and not even realize it.
I head down to the sand as I make my way over to Emmie and Georgie standing side by side while looking at the gourd collection. They come in every shape and size, and I’ll be honest, a few of them are downright vulgar looking.
“Hey, Bizzy”—Georgie holds up an elongated yellow gourd my way—“what does this remind you of?”
I squint down at it before making a face. “Georgie. There are kids around.”
“No, not that.” Georgie rocks Annabeth on her hip. “It looks like a banana. But I can’t fault you for having your mind in the gutter. You’re still technically on your honeymoon. I have a cousin who’s French, and she took two years away from the world just to do nothing more than lie in bed with her new hubby.”
“Ooh,” Emmie muses as she takes Sprinkles from me. “A two-year honeymoon sounds perfect. It sounds like I should start saving up.” She winks my way. “And before you ask, no, he didn’t propose. But I can sense it, Bizzy. What was he talking to you about for so long?” She bats her long lashes my way. “I just know he’s up to something. I can feel it.”
I can feel it, too.
I force a smile. “You’re right, he’s up to something. A bonfire at the cove tonight.”
“Oh, goodie.” Georgie gives Annabeth a jostle. “Hear that, kiddo?” She gives the haunted doll another shake. “We’ll be roasting weenies by the fire tonight.” She nods my way. “What’s on the agenda this afternoon, kid? I’ve got a new pick-up line, and I’m dying to use it.”
“Let’s hear it,” I say. I might as well work it out of her system.
“Hey, big boy”—Georgie’s head swivels as she winks—“is that a gourd in your pocket, or are you just glad to see me?”
“I don’t know, Georgie.” Emmie shakes her head. “That might be too much firepower.”
Georgie shoots her a look. “At my age, sweetie, you need all the firepower you can get. But most importantly, he’s got to be able to fire back. No point in shooting my ammo at him if he can’t even hold up his weapon.”
“I’m meeting up with Camila,” I say, choosing not to get tangled in the trenches of that conversation. “We’re getting our hair done at noon.”
Emmie lifts a brow. “You never get your hair done. I’m guessing you’re on the hunt for a suspect again.”
“You bet I am. You want in?”
She’s back to making a face. “If Camila wasn’t there, it would be a fast yes. But since she’s in the equation, it’s a hard no. I’m just sorry you have to be there yourself.”
“No problem. Hey, would you mind keeping an eye on Fish and Sherlock? I’ve got a crew installing a new security system. Jordy’s overseeing it, and I plan on taking Sprinkles with me.”
“It would be my pleasure,” she says, trading Sprinkles for Fish. “I’ll have Cinnamon come out. They’ll have a blast.”
Georgie stretches her arm to the sky. “Count me in. I haven’t had my hair done since 1953. And I bet Annabeth has got a good fifty years on me in that department. We’re just two old girls living with old curls.”
“And old curses,” I muse as I look to the haunted doll. “All right. Meet me in the lobby at eleven forty-five.” I give Sprinkles a quick kiss to the nose. “We’ve got a killer to catch.”
Chapter 10
The Color Me Crazy Salon is set right in downtown Seaview, a hop and a skip from the sheriff’s station, which would explain why Camila beat me here.
By the time Sprinkles and I arrive—with Georgie and Juni in tow—Camila is standing in the entry talking to a familiar brunette with half her face done up to look like a skeleton. It’s a convincing look on her, too, as it should be. Sabrina Ames is an expert at wielding a makeup brush.
Camila is wrapped in a rich brown cashmere sweater, and Sabrina looks every bit the makeup artist rock star she is in a black leather jacket and dark ripped jeans.
“Sabrina,” I practically sing her name, thrilled to somehow have procured a two-for-one suspect sighting. I give Camila a slight wave, and she flexes a short-lived smile right back.
“Hey, Bizzy.” Sabrina pats Sprinkles on the head. “Hey there, girl. I hear Bizzy is taking really good care of you.” She smiles my way. “I was just asking Camila about her, and she mentioned you still had her.”
I nod. “And I’m loving her, too. I guess Blair’s parents can’t take her. If either you or your friends are interested, please let me know. If not, I
