I waved to a couple of shop owners on my way, familiar faces I saw often and spent a lot of community time with these days.
Father Rico was out on the steps of the church, preparing to welcome people to afternoon mass even in the misty rain, and again I felt the sting of not only the recent loss of Sister Ophelia, but the worry about how Father Rico was healing after such a tragic event.
Yet, he waved to me and called out a cheerful greeting, and I waved back, making my way toward Sienna Street, where Susie lived in a gorgeous high-rise apartment with lots of glass and tinted windows.
Her building loomed before me, and even in the purple gloom of the day, I admired how trendy and well-kept it was. From the neatly mulched patches in the front with perfectly cropped bushes, to the pavers that surrounded the now barren azaleas, it was really sharp and very trendy. Exactly where I’d expect someone as posh as Susie to live.
It overlooked the Hawthorne Bridge and the river, and I imagine on sunny days, it was quite spectacular.
I pulled the door open to the coffee shop, simply called Sienna’s Brew, and wiggled my fingers to Susie, who was already sitting at a table. She looked a little tired and pale, as though her spray tan had begun to wash off. I imagined it was due to the stress of these last days and the toll it was taking on her pregnancy. It was part of the reason I was checking in on her.
In fact, she almost looked nothing like the Susie-Susie I saw on YouTube. She looked fresh-faced and scrubbed, and if I hadn’t known that was her purse sitting next to her, I might have missed her entirely.
Man, makeup really was an illusion, and she was definitely a master illusionist.
I wandered through the small, walnut-stained tables and approached her with a smile. “Hey, Susie! I almost didn’t recognize you without makeup. Not that you’re not just as beautiful, it’s just different.”
She sipped at something resembling milky tea from a wide white-and-blue-striped cup, using a tissue she pulled from her sweater pocket to wipe her nose. “It’s a great way to keep my anonymity. I’m not sure if it’s a curse or a blessing. Almost no one knows I’m the vivacious Susie-Susie when I go without makeup.”
Oh, dear. She sounded awful. “Oh, Susie. You’re feeling poorly? You sound stuffy.”
Sniffling, she said, “I’m definitely not great. I think I have a serious head cold.”
I leaned the heels of my hands against the table as I slipped into a chair. “Oh no! Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling unwell? I’d have brought you some chicken soup from Betty’s. Best soup ever. It has healing properties of which I don’t know the ingredients, but can guarantee.”
She smiled at me, her nose red. “It’s okay. I should have cancelled, but it feels good to talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk about PR and the angle we’re going to take for Mitzy’s death in my next video.”
I popped my lips and nodded in sympathy. “You mean your agent and PR manager are pressuring you to make a video?”
She nodded her blonde head. “They are, and I know this sounds awful, but it’s going to be the best acting job of my life. You know there was no love lost between us, but now they want me to fawn and gush over someone who doesn’t—” She stopped quite suddenly, her eyes full of apology. “Sorry. It feels disingenuous.”
“Right,” I responded, patting her hand. “So let’s talk about other things. What’s new?”
“Hey, do you mind if we do this in my apartment? I feel awful, and it might be better if I could snuggle under a blanket and sit on my couch.”
“Are you sure? We can do this another time when you’re feeling better? I just wanted to touch base, see if there was anything I could do to help.”
But she wagged a finger at me. “No, no. I’m grateful for the company if you don’t mind risking getting the plague. My job is sort of isolating, and like I said, I’d rather not talk shop.”
“Okay then. Let me grab some coffee and we’ll head on up.”
“How about I meet you up there? I really need another dose of cold medicine. I’m the only apartment on the top floor. I’ll text you the access code for the elevator.”
Wow. So basically, she lived in the penthouse. Makeup had its privileges. “Are you sure you want to give me something so private? I might sneak in and steal all your makeup,” I teased on a giggle. “I’d be Coop’s hero.”
She grinned at me, her nose painfully red. “Nah. I trust you and I can change it if I ever bust you and Coop, snooping through my blush. It’s easy enough.”
I smiled. “You got it.” We parted ways, and I went to grab some coffee, looking forward to the late-afternoon boost after my hard night of clubbing and drawing preposterous sketches of who knew what or why.
I placed my order and waited, wondering if maybe Tansy was right. Maybe there wasn’t enough physical evidence to make this a murder investigation. With the exception of the tiny lead about an argument with Mitzy and the name Kelly, there wasn’t a lot to go on.
I hated to think this could turn into a cold case, but you’d be surprised how many cold cases there are. The stats would astound you.
Taking my cinnamon-vanilla latte, I paid with a smile for the cashier, who warned me how hot my cup was. I left the coffee shop to head up to Susie’s, looking forward to seeing her apartment. I’d bet it was beautiful.
Pressing the button for the elevator in the lobby, I entered the access code and hopped on, pushing the penthouse floor button just as
