“I have it on good authority that Tansy and crew have a serious lead on the person who hit Ames, and it has nothing to do with Mitzy at all. Apparently, they think it was some guy leaving the scene of a crime somewhere else. They have a person of interest in custody as we speak.”
Huh. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t “take out a hit on makeup guru” week. I wasn’t sure how it fit anyway. Nothing fit at this point. Nothing but the theory that this was all an accidental death. Yet, I’d still like to talk to Ames, given the opportunity.
“That’s good to know. I hope if this person really did it, he goes to jail for a long time,” she murmured, barely looking up from her plate to acknowledge him.
Okay, I couldn’t take this sullen Coop any longer. It was hard enough dealing with emotionless Coop, but emotionless and mopey, too? Could you be those two things at once? It was getting to be hard on my heart. And I know I should just let her feel the way she feels, but it was painful to watch.
I guess my way is to nurture, and I want to make everything all better for her, even knowing I really couldn’t. This? Much like her hangover, and everything else that went with life, I had to let it be.
Thus, I turned my attention back to Higgs. “So what else did you hear, Higgs?” I couldn’t help but encourage with a little exaggeration for good measure.
He winked at me. “Well, Trixie, I heard that the early toxicology reports do, in fact, prove Mitzy died of an allergic reaction to peanuts, but it wasn’t from her lipstick or any of her makeup. They suspect it was transferred—skin to skin. There were traces of peanut oil on her cheek and hand.”
I’d done a little research tonight before dinner about what having a deadly peanut allergy can do, how quickly it can kill you, and how little effort it took to go into anaphylactic shock from sometimes merely the scent of peanuts. Without an EpiPen, Mitzy hadn’t stood a chance.
Sipping at my water, I leaned back in my chair. “So that means someone could have done nothing more than shake her hand?”
Higgs bobbed his head up and down. “Or kissed her on the cheek or brushed against her. Which, if this is a murder case, it’s going to take a million years to process every single person she came into contact with her seconds before she died. Any evidence of it is long gone by now.”
Goose and Knuckles had been sitting very quietly as they listened to us, until Knuckles spoke up. “You know, had another artist friend who had a severe allergy like that. Darn near died. We were all at a shop I used to frequent in LA, and a customer came in for a tat. She’d had peanuts before she came in. Didn’t do anything more than touch his arm to say hello, and he was swellin’ up like a bloomin’ monster truck tire. Phew, it was a heck of a thing. Thankfully, one of the guys knew about it and had his EpiPen handy, but it was a scary few seconds. It all happened so dang quick.”
Folding my hands under my chin, I looked to Higgs. “So Tansy and everyone else thinks this was just an accidental death—even though all the pens were either in the purse that was dumped in a dumpster or locked up in the janitor’s closet? And let’s not forget, someone swapped out Mitzy’s purse for a dummy. Then the coroner finds traces of peanut oil on her skin that had to have been transferred skin to skin? But nah. Why would all that suspicious activity ever lead anyone at Portland PD to believe this was murder?” I asked with sarcasm.
“Easy there, Sister Trixie,” Higgs teased, his tone light as he buttered a roll. “I’m not the enemy here. I’m just passing along what I heard through the grapevine. I don’t know why they’re not calling Mitzy’s death a murder. I thought the DA would be all over this like butter on toast. I do know, there were a ton of kids at that event, if you listen to what the guys working the case said. There’s a lot of video to sift through at this point. I don’t envy them having to try to prove this was murder with no physical evidence to back it up.”
“That she died of a peanut allergy with no EpiPen in sight isn’t enough physical evidence?” I asked, fighting more sarcasm in my tone.
“You know it’s not, Trixie. Okay, sure, she died of exposure to peanuts, but who exposed her? You told me she shook a lot of hands before she took a quick break, right? But then she came back and didn’t touch anyone, but fell off the stage almost immediately after her break.”
I nodded. “That’s correct. Though, how sure are we all peanut allergies cause an immediate death?”
“That’s a fair question I have no answer for, but we do know it was severe. That leads me to believe her death would have been immediate. If we go with that theory, it could have been anyone who was backstage during the break. But according to the rumblings from the guys who told me about Ames, there aren’t any video cameras back stage.”
Of course not. That would be way too easy. “Are you telling me this was the perfect crime?”
“Nope. I’m telling you Tansy and the precinct are swamped and the likelihood of them having the time or manpower to go through all that video footage, identify everyone in the footage, and then bring them in for questioning is wishful thinking. According to some of the guys, they don’t even have very clear video footage because the crowd
