Color Me a Crime (6 page)

Luckily, Erin is a good sport about it.

“Here.” I hand her one of the drinks. “No sense in drinking alone.”

“Don’t worry about Felicia. I can take care of her.” She holds her glass up for me to cheer. We clink them together. “Now you have to tell Joel everything if you are sure that you want to date him. You have to tell him about who you really are. It’s only fair.”

Erin is right. Not only is it fair, but Joel deserves to know. He is a good guy. And I will leave it up to him to decide if he can live with the real me or not.

Chapter Eight

“Come on.” I rub Herbie’s warm stomach lying next to my pillow. “You didn’t have any trouble sleeping last night.”

He looks up, and then lays his head back down like he really understands. No matter how little sleep I got from thinking about Joel all night, it didn’t bother Herbie any.

“Let’s go outside.” I pull my sweatshirt off the top of the pile of clothes lying on my floor. He jumps down and does his ‘I’m going for a walk’ dance. Remembering that I promised a walk, I pat his head and say, “You go out back and do your business while I get some coffee in me. I promise we will go for a walk.”

After all, the only thing I had to do today is dump a few people, which is going to be really easy since I’m a little bitter this morning. Plus, no sleep makes me really snarky. I sort of feel sorry for the people I’m going to dump already. The wrath of me is something I don’t wish on my worst enemy, and that includes Buddy.

The coffee timer is the best invention of all. I open the back door and let Herbie out to do his business, pour myself a hot cup of coffee and flip on the TV. Maybe someone else’s problems will make me feel a little better.

“Porn star, Linda Minx, was found dead on the side of a country road in Park City, Ohio; a small town just north of her home in Cincinnati.” I look at the TV. A big picture of Linda Mix is plastered across the entire screen of my nineteen-inch black and white kitchen TV, big boobs and all. “They have not determined the cause of death.”

“That’s right, Pat.” The news reporter is on location. I recognize the road that leads to Heifer’s and Ho’s. “Linda Minx was found right here.”

The camera pans to the exact location. The chalk from the body outline looks like it has just been freshly traced.

“I was walking my border collie this mornin’, which I do every mornin’, and I came upon this woman.” The old lady who apparently found Linda Minx in her unfortunate position looks deep into the camera. “I yelled, get up! Get up! But she didn’t move. Bodi, my dog, even barked at her, but she still didn’t move. I knew somethin’ wasn’t right with her. I thought she might be on drugs or somethin’. So I called Chief Carl Lester and that new guy down at the police station to come down here and get her. Let her sober up in the county jail. Only…” the woman’s eyes widen, “she ain’t goin’ to be doin’ any soberin’ up now. She’s dead.”

The camera pans back to the reporter.

“You heard it straight from the eye witness. Back to you Pat,” the news reporter says and I drop my hot cup of coffee, spilling it all over me.

“What did that say?” Erin rushes down the hall with her hair up in a towel. “Was that who I think it was?”

I look at Erin and try to say something, but nothing comes out. Not even the slightest bit of air.

“What did she say?” Erin turns the old knob on the nineteen-inch TV. “Somebody else has to be covering it.”

I sit down in the family room on the couch, feeling sure I that am in shock.

“Olivia!” Erin grabs the remote of the TV in the family room and flips through channels. Linda Minx is everywhere, big boobs and all. “Oh my God.”

“No one knows what happened,” I mutter under my breath.

“It looks like she had some sort of blow to her jaw.” The news continues to replay the woman with the dog that found poor Felicia. “But the police ain’t sayin’ a word.”

“Olivia?” Erin questions me in a hushed tone. “Did you knock her brains out?”

“Me?” I put my hand on my chest. “She was fine after I punched her. I went back out to apologize and she was gone. She had to have walked somewhere.”

“And Joel saw the entire thing?” Erin made my little encounter with Felicia seem awfully suspicious.

I nod.

“And. . .” Erin stammers.

“And what? I didn’t kill her.” I look at the screen. Felicia Evans stares back at me, dressed as her alter ego, Linda Minx. Her eyes are haunting.

Oh, oh, what do you do No one else can dance like you,
Paul McCartney sings out my
Spies Like Us
ringtone.

That was quick
. I secretly hope that Joel is calling so early because he’s ready to hear what I have to say, and not to tell me that I’m a suspect in Felicia’s murder.

“Olivia, we have a problem.” His voice is to the point. “Can you come to Heifer’s and Ho’s? It’s a matter of police business.”

“Does this have anything to do with the murder of Felicia Evans?” My nerves settle in the tips of my toes along with my heart, stomach, and soul.

“I think its best that you just come over, or you can come down to the station.” His voice never breaks. The same monotone, non-caring cop voice I’ve heard from so many cops.

It makes me wonder if they take an actual class on how-to-not put any emotion in their voices when talking to a suspect.

“Olivia.” The front door flies open, and in comes Aunt Matilda, her long flowing dress following suit. “Did you hear about…?” Erin shushes her, and lips that I’m on the phone with Joel.

“Sure, I can come to Heifer’s and Ho’s.” I hang up the phone and look at Erin and Aunt Matilda. Worry and fright tighten the muscles in my face. “I think I’m the number one murder suspect in Felicia’s death.”

Aunt Matilda’s eyes darken and she draws back. She lets out a slight gasp and points without saying anything. She knows. She knows that I had that bad dream about Buddy.

I also remember that she is just like me…psychic.

“Okay.” Erin stands up and walks over to us. Her finger sways between Aunt Matilda and me. “You two have some sort of psychic thing going on. I’ve known you all my life. Spill!”

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but a couple of nights ago I had a nightmare about Orange Buddy.” My trembling lips seem to have ventured into my fingers. The coffee tumbles over the edges. I try to steady the cup with two hands instead of one. “Only my dream about Orange Buddy being murdered didn’t came true.”

“Yet,” said Aunt Matilda.

Erin grabs her purse off her desk and grabs me by the arm. “Either way, I’m going with you.”

“No, no.” I shake my head. I’m a big girl. I can handle the situation. Calling over my shoulder as I head toward my room to put on some appropriate clothes I yell, “There isn’t anyone who could possibly think I murdered Felicia.”

“Well, you did jack her jaw,” Erin belts out. “And the dog walker said she could see visible trauma to her face.”

“Visible trauma? Pish.” There is no way I hit her hard enough to do anything other than stun her for a second. “

“I don’t have a good feeling about this and neither does your aura.” Aunt Matilda follows me down the hall. “I told you. I hate to say I told you.”

I am not going to argue with Aunt Matilda. Erin maybe, but not Aunt Matilda. She is far too in-tune with my abilities to try to pull the wool over her eyes.

Erin locks the front door and we head out the back.

“Really!” I fake a laugh and take my keys out of my purse. “I can do this on my own.”

I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or put them at ease, but for some reason, I can still hear Joel’s voice from his phone call in my head and he didn’t sound like a boyfriend.

“Well, you know I will feel much better about going with you, because you know as well as I know that your dreams have a tendency to have a little ESP in them.”

Aunt Matilda doesn’t need to remind me. I put my hand on my stomach and try to rub out the knot that is forming in it. These dreams only appear when something is going to happen and the last time I started having them, I was the number one suspect in Dabi Stone’s murder case. Not only did I have to break up with people on Splitsville.com during that time, I had to put all those episodes of Veronica Mars and Murder She Wrote that I’ve watched over the years, into action and clear my own name.

We all pile in my old Toyota. With my hand gripping the steering wheel, we make it across town. Slowly, I turn into the Heifer’s and Ho’s Dude Ranch’s dirt driveway and proceed under the wooden sign that towers over the road like a bridge. It reads, Heifer’s and Ho’s Dude Ranch. The antlers, one each side of the sign, are barely hanging on.

Erin, Aunt Matilda, nor I say a word when we pull up to the sprawling ranch behind all the police cruisers, fire trucks, and coroner’s van.

“This isn’t good,” Aunt Matilda says as she looks out the passenger window. She turns toward me and her eyes are hollow. She gulps. “Is that Felicia’s aura?”

I follow her finger that is pointing straight at a stretcher with a white sheet on it. A faint green glow shines around the feet, which are not covered by the sheet. There is a woman standing next to the gurney having a full-blown meltdown.

Her long brown ponytail shakes along with her body, right before the police officer hands her a tissue and tries to comfort her. I strain to see her face, but the police whisk her away.

The green aura begins to fade.

The thing with auras, is that when someone is sick, about to die, or has just expired, their aura still hangs around for a while, only it’s very faint.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Here we go again.” Erin shakes her head, referring to last year. “How do we get in these situations?” Her voice is quivery.

“I have no idea.” My eyes follow Carl and Joel as they walk up to the car.

Carl taps the window and motions for me to roll it down. For a moment, I’m in shock and forget how to turn the manual knob.

“Good morning ladies.” Police Chief Carl Lester glances around at everyone in the car. His grey hair barely peeks out of the cap. When his brown eyes make contact with me, a shiver creeps up my spine. He is all too familiar with my gift, and I wonder if he thinks I’m trying to read him. I’m not. I’m just trying to figure out what they want with me. He stops when he gets to Aunt Matilda. “Hi, darling.”

“Don’t you darling me, Carl Lester.” All sorts of jingles and jangles go off as Aunt Matilda shakes her fist at Cop Carl. “You know damn good and well that Olivia had nothing to do with this here prostitute dying.”

“Matilda, you know I can’t discuss the case with you.” Carl’s head lowers, as do his eyes, casting a shadow down his cheeks. “And she isn’t a prostitute.”

Joel is too chicken-shit to say anything. He keeps writing something on that little notepad of his.

“Well, she took her clothes off for money. Damn near a prostitute.” Aunt Matilda glares at him. The air around her fills with infrared. She’s mad and not going to hold back.

“Aunt Matilda,” I stop her, “everything is going to be fine. I will answer a few questions with Carl present, and then I will be right back.”

“I don’t think that is fair.” Erin gets out of the car and stands with her hands on her hips.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Joel looks at Erin. “We have a few questions for you too.”

“Like what? I wasn’t even here last night.” Erin’s voice escalates with each passing syllable.

“No, but evidently Ms. Evans used Color Me Love to help her find her date with William Mac.” He turns the page on that damn little notepad. “Which makes me want to question you.” He points to me.  “And why he seems to think your name is Jenn, when it is clearly not. But he seems to know you very well.”

“Seriously, can you stop writing in that kindergarten notepad?” I fling my door open, completely pissed off… as if we don’t have some sort of past. I roll my eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

There is no way I am going to let Erin and Aunt Matilda be interrogated, when in fact, I am the one who had the run-in with Linda.

Careful not to say two words, I follow Cop Carl and Joel up the steps of the lodge and into the big gathering space just inside the door.

There are several people seated all over the room talking to police officers. The officers write wildly in the same type of notebook that Joel has. The look on each face is sad, almost tearful. Luckily, the auras are all a hue of black and not a bunch of colliding colors.

“She’s the one who hit her!”

I look over when I hear someone shout out. All eyes are on me. I try to look away, but it’s too late. Their true auras start to shine as if the sun is only one foot from me. That is the last thing I remember.

Chapter Nine

“This is ridiculous.” I hear Jill’s voice in a hushed whisper. “You know and I know that Olivia couldn’t hurt a flea.”

I keep my eyes closed. I’m curious to see to whom she’s talking.

“You don’t know that,” Joel answers her, Footsteps follow; I can feel him getting closer.

Stay still, stay still.
I don’t even breathe.

“We barely know her. She faints all the time and I have no idea how she makes any money working at Color Me Love.” His footsteps walk away from me. “There is something not right about her, which makes her so attractive to me.”

“Joel, dear.” Aunt Jill cautions him. “Sometimes your training gets in the way of your heart. You need to figure out who killed Big Boobs Boom-Boom, and save your relationship with the only girl that has lit your fire since Christy.”

Christy? Who the hell is Christy?

“Don’t you ever bring up that name again.” The heavy footsteps, that I can only perceive as Joel’s, stop. His voice is harsh and commanding, “You call for me when our little Jenn Olivia wakes up.”

“Ohhh…” I roll a little to the left and then to the right, when I hear the door slam. It is time to figure out who killed Felicia and get Joel back in my life.

I’ve done it once; I can probably do it again.

“Olivia, are you okay?” Jill sits on the bed next to me and pats my hand.

Rubbing my eyes, I sit up. “I have no idea what is wrong with me. I really need to go see a doctor.” I am getting really good at this lying stuff. “Or maybe I’m allergic to something here.”