The Scent of Murder Page 2

  “I went to your office, looking for you. Management wasn’t real enthused about your choices for Valentine's Day displays. One would think you didn’t like the holiday.” Despite his best efforts to be urbane, Shawn spoke with a slight Texas drawl that always became more pronounced when he was upset.

  Marissa smiled. “One would think. So what didn’t they like?” She tried to lead him away from talking about the murder until he calmed down. Marissa noticed that he kept wiping his hands on his dress pants like a very chic Lady MacBeth. Out, out damned spot. What gets blood out of cotton?

  “I think the cupids made up like Tammy Fae Bakker were the last straw. They’re a bit over the top, if you know what I mean.”

  Marissa rolled her chair a little closer to where Shawn leaned against the desk. Shawn always ignored her suggestions when she went all out to show her disgust for the holiday. She knew Valentine’s Day was a big sales event, but Marissa thought little else of the day. No hearts aflutter. “Maybe with that much eye makeup, love could really be blind. Besides, coming from someone who collects nude pictures of the royal family, I consider that a compliment.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “It used to be a novelty. Even Chuck gets into the act these days. Anyway, I went in your office and saw this woman with a knife sticking out of her back. I thought it was you.”

  Marissa arched an eyebrow. “Me? I don’t look anything like that tramp.” No comparison to Tiffany would please her, particularly a physical one.

  “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to speak ill of the dead? Besides, there is a superficial resemblance between the two of you. You obviously have more panache, but from the back she looked like you on a bad hair day.”

  Marissa felt her cheeks grow red and her ears burn, but she wasn’t sure if her emotional reaction came from anger or embarrassment. She’d heard about men who had traded their wives for younger, almost-identical versions of the former wives, but she hadn’t thought of herself as one of those castoffs. For a trophy wife? Would Tiffany have suffered the same fate when she hit thirty? Marissa realized that no one would ever find out now. “So what did you do then?”

  “I checked her pulse, but I can tell you — she was dead. I’ve seen too much of that not to recognize a corpse when I see one.” Shawn sagged slightly as he finished the story, looking like he might fall over on the desk. His usual swagger was gone. Marissa leaned forward a little more and patted his shoulder.

  “Hopefully, you didn’t leave any of your papers down there. I’ve heard that my office has been quarantined until further notice.” She took off her pumps and stretched her legs.

  Shawn closed his eyes for a second and then looked at Marissa. “Well, not really. You see…I really just wanted to talk. I hadn’t officially shown David the decorating ideas, but I knew he wasn’t going to like them. I was looking for a shoulder to cry on more than anything.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Eddie and I broke up. He’s been getting a lot of pressure from his family to stop seeing me — like I made him gay. They’re old-fashioned, you know. I think all that was just too much.” Marissa had never met the latest object of Shawn’s affection, but she’d heard plenty about him from her friend. The good, the bad, and the closeted.

  “Well, it’s nice to know that in-law troubles aren't exclusively a problem for the heterosexual crowd. I plan on interviewing my next set very carefully.”

  A voice came from the doorway. “I’ll have to make sure I tell my mother that.”

  The room suddenly felt smaller and darker to Marissa. She wondered why. Her current boyfriend and homicide detective stepped into the security office and leaned against the doorway. “Hi, Gavin,” Marissa said without turning to face him.

  “I came to make sure that you weren’t involved in this even though I can’t work on this case. Bandarra doesn’t want any appearance of impropriety here.” The detective took a step closer. The dark curls and intense brown eyes had once made her smile, but now they made Marissa irritable. He had a nice smile and a nice face to go with it, not handsome, but definitely worth a second glance. His light brown hair curled a little just above his ears. Marissa was so busy noticing his ears that she didn’t hear the question. Try to keep your wits about you, she reminded herself. He cut an imposing figure in the doorway, six foot tall with broad shoulders and a waist that she could easily slip her arms around when he wasn’t trying to pressure her into a serious relationship. Things had gotten too comfortable too quickly, and now Marissa needed some personal space to get her bearings.

  “Tell him that I was at a seminar with at least fifty other people who can all vouch for me. So feel free to work on whatever murder cases you want.”

  “We need you to come downstairs again. There are some details to go over. Shawn, too.” With that, the door clicked as it closed again.

  Shawn’s eyes widened as he stood up which only accented the hollowness around his eyes and the ashen quality to his skin. “Maybe I picked the wrong person to tell about my breakup. What was that all about? I detect that I’m not the only one here who doesn't care for Hamilton County's finest.”

  Marissa slipped her pumps back on and tugged at her knee-highs. “We’ve hit the magic three-month mark. It’s this unwritten policy that the relationship has to grow or stop at this point.”

  Shawn held open the door to let Marissa pass. He’d curtsy next if she wasn't careful. “So he wants out and you’re mad?”

  “Hardly. He assumes that we’re moving forward. Quickly. No discussion, no talk about what I want for my life or anything. Gavin’s in love so everything has to fall in line. He even had the nerve to talk about doing a father-son outing with Joshua. I won’t be railroaded into another relationship, not until I’m ready.” Marissa led the way to the escalator.

  “Can’t you talk to him about it?”

  “That’s the point. I can’t. When I bring up the subject, he thinks I want to breakup with him. I can’t express my feelings without hurting his.”

  “Well, if you dump him, can I have him?” A sparkle came into Shawn’s eyes that she hadn't seen today. Maybe there was hope.

  Marissa rolled her eyes. “Sorry. He’s hopelessly conservative. I can’t see the two of you together.”

  The pair stopped talking as they approached the cosmetics department. Except for the seven police officers loitering around the perfume counters, no one would guess that a life had ended only a few short hours before.

  Totally inconspicuous. Marissa looked around, noticing customers who continued to shop without hesitancy. How were they to know what had just happened in the back office? Bonnie and Rhonda handled the cash registers without emotion.

  “Looking for Gavin? He’s over there.” Shawn pointed to a small group of people that included Ellen, Gavin, and a loud man with graying curls and glasses that sat halfway down his nose. Sergeant Bandarra — Ellen’s future husband, Gavin’s superior, and Marissa's nemesis. The cop and Marissa agreed on nothing except their friendship with Ellen and their dislike of each other. So far she had avoided the groom while helping to plan the wedding, but with a murder in her office that luxury would be impossible.

  “Actually, I was looking for someone else. I’m surprised I haven’t seen him.” Someone who would make life even more uncomfortable than being investigated by her boyfriend or Bandarra. Someone who would be more antagonistic than David Harper discussing budgets.

  “Girl, maybe we should hang out more. You know more men than I do.”

  “You can have them all. I’d trade the lot of them for some peace and quiet right about now.”

  The group of officers walked up to Marissa and Shawn. Bandarra spoke first, a husky voice that sounded like Bogart on steroids. “I need you two to follow me to the crime scene. Think you can handle it?”

  Shawn spoke first, a squeak compared to Bandarra’s voice. “Is the body gone?”

  “No, we just left it lying around in case you ran short of mannequins. Of course
it’s gone.” He spun around without waiting. Bandarra started walking to Marissa's office. “Works well with others” wouldn’t be listed on Bandarra’s resume, Marissa thought.

  She resented the easy way he had commandeered her personal space. The group barely fit into the small room that Kantor’s deemed an office. Each department head got a small desk, chair, and lamp with four walls that intimately enjoyed each other’s company. Cramped would be a generous term. Marissa stopped short of the chair, noticing the stains on the marble tile. A pattern of blood showed where Tiffany had sat.

  “So what’s the purpose of coming back here? To scare a confession out of me?” Marissa knew the shock was wearing off because her brain fired off one-liners that she filed for future reference.

  Gavin stepped closer. “We wanted to see if you noticed anything missing or out of place. Anything that could be a clue to the murder.”

  Marissa sighed. “There’s a whole stack of paperwork there. I’d have to go through it all to tell you anything.”

  “Not until we’ve cataloged it you won’t.” Bandarra took a step in front of her to stop Marissa from touching the papers.

  The door to the office opened again and all five people turned. A man with reddish brown hair stepped into the room. His black pinstriped suit made him appear ready for the impending funeral, and his eyes were the same color pink as a subtle nail polish. Seashell, maybe. His tie sported Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny, a gift from Joshua this past Christmas. Marissa had seen him dressed like this a million times coming home from work, and still something happened to her when she saw his face. Right now, it was a gnawing in her stomach that made her swallow hard to keep down the bile.

  “You murdering witch. How could you have done this? Why?” The man started across the room, but Gavin stepped in front of him.

  Marissa spoke with a dry mouth. “Hello, Dan.”

  Chapter 3

  “I knew you were vengeful, but I never thought you’d sink this low.”

  “I didn’t kill anyone, Dan. I have enough worries with Josh and working full-time. I don’t have the energy to spend my free time thinking about you.” The office was large enough to accommodate all six of them, but at this minute, Marissa felt Dan took every square inch of the room, suffocating her.

  Marissa took a long look at her ex-husband. Had their relationship deteriorated to a point where he thought her capable of anything, or was the anger and hurt inside of him blaming a familiar target? Marissa saw Ellen’s wide-eyed expression and managed to choke back the one-liners that came so easily in fighting with Dan. No use giving the police a motive.

  Dan's face had turned as red as one of the Valentine hearts on display.

  Marissa remembered her ex-husband’s current coloring from the last days of their marriage when every discussion had been a fight. The situation had changed abruptly when Dan hadn’t bothered to come home from work one day. Marissa had called his office and several friends to find out what had happened, but no one had known or been willing to tell her.

  Finally, Dan had called about ten that evening, telling her that he had moved into his own apartment. The old line of needing more space and wanting to find himself barely sunk into Marissa’s brain as she listened to the excuses. She’d known immediately and verified later, he’d been having an affair for months with an eighteen-year-old girl. Dan had met Tiffany at Winton Woods on one of the rare occasions he took Joshua to play in the park's sandbox. Marissa’s bitterness grew when she thought of how she’d blamed herself for their problems in the last few weeks of the marriage.

  Realizing that same girl lay dead in the Hamilton County morgue, Marissa shook her head. Marissa’s relationship with Dan had been strained in the past, but the last few months had been excruciating. At every opportunity, Dan threw his upcoming marriage in her face. More reminders of his infidelity, as if she needed them. The couple even registered at Kantor’s bridal department — in her store — Marissa’s sole haven from her mixed-up personal life.

  Now the boundaries had disappeared entirely with the thrust of that knife. Their lives joined together again. “Dan, why would I kill Tiffany? Think about it for a minute. Why would she even come to my office?”

  Ellen made a coughing noise and stepped forward. She turned quickly to look at her fiancée, Sergeant Bandarra. “Why don’t we talk about this another time? I don’t think you need to discuss the murder this minute.”

  Marissa knew that Bandarra was absorbing every word as possible evidence against her. What you say may be used against you in a court of law.

  “Before you go,“ Bandarra said to Dan in his stentorian voice, “what kind of purse does your fiancé carry?”

  Marissa’s last comments had deflated Dan’s anger somewhat and now his eyes brimmed with tears. “A small Gucci bag. I gave it to her for Christmas. Why?”

  Marissa’s mouth dropped open. Dan couldn’t have told the police what purses Marissa had owned for all the money in them. He hadn’t even asked about Josh, knowing how susceptible he was to colds and flu during the winter.

  “It’s missing. Does she usually take it to work with her?”

  “As far as I know. Why don’t you ask the woman who killed her?” Dan shot another glance at his ex-wife, firing visual daggers at her.

  Before the police could respond, Ellen took Dan by the arm and led him out of the office area. Bandarra followed her with his eyes until the two were out of sight and then turned back to Marissa. “So what do you have to say for yourself, Ms. Scott?” He stretched out “Ms.” into a slur, as if her independence was an insult.

  Gavin looked ready to jump to her defense and Shawn stood as silent as one of the mannequins he worked with.

  Marissa felt weary. The good mood from being at the seminar had faded quicker than the smell of cheap perfume. “I don’t have any explanation for this. I’ve been out of the office all day. Anyone who knew me would know my schedule.”

  “You were only fifteen minutes from Westgate. Anyone could sneak out of a seminar for a half-hour without being missed.”

  “I sat with the same group of women from nine o’clock until the time Ellen called. Is that a solid enough alibi, or do you think the whole seminar was in on the murder too?” Marissa’s nostrils flared as she geared up for a fight.

  Bandarra pushed his glasses up with his thumb and took the time to look around the barren cement room. “This office would be the perfect secret meeting place with you gone.”

  Marissa grimaced. “Especially if the murderer wanted to throw blame on someone else. Where better to kill Tiffany than at the desk of her fiancée’s ex-wife?” A little too perfect.

  Gavin cleared his throat. He watched Marissa carefully. “So it would seem.”

  Thanks, Gavin. Marissa thought it best to ignore him and continued to talk to Bandarra. Gavin had no official capacity in a case involving someone he knew. She needed to convince the authorities of her innocence. His enigmatic comments would upset her and make her think about their relationship instead of concentrating on what was happening here.

  “I think you know me well enough by now to know that I wouldn’t be so stupid as to kill someone at my own desk. If I was going to be so obvious, why wouldn’t I just blow her away on the steps of the police station?”

  “Or you’re so clever that you did this to confuse us.” Bandarra held out a large plastic envelope with a business-letter envelope inside. The plain white envelope had no writing on the outside that Marissa could see. It was thin enough to show that it held nothing inside. “Have you seen this around? Can you identify this?”

  Marissa furrowed her brow. “Is this a joke? There are thousands of these around. I work in an office, in case you haven’t noticed.” Suspecting a trick, she looked at the envelope cautiously.

  Bandarra opened the seam of the plastic covering. “Not like this one. Take a whiff.”

  Marissa bent over the envelope still clutched tight in Bandarra’s hands and inhaled. The faint smell of colog
ne tickled her nostrils and as it did, an uneasy feeling gripped her stomach. She recognized the fragrance. Paradise, the same scent as the samples in her coat. Whoever was trying to frame her was doing their best work.

  “Do you know the scent?” Bandarra watched her face as she stood back up. Marissa felt as if he could read her thoughts.

  She took a deep breath, cleansing the scent from her nose. Her mind was another matter as she fought the desire to run to her coat to check the samples. “Where did you find this envelope?”

  “You’re stalling, Ms. Scott. Answer the question. Do you recognize the scent?” Bandarra stretched out the word until it sounded like a buzz. Ready to sting.

  Marissa shrugged. “It’s one of those new shared fragrances, but I’m not familiar with all of them. This is the perfume industry’s latest concept to sell more scent, one smell for both sexes.”

  Bandarra seemed to recognize her avoidance and moved a little closer to her. “How do you know what type of fragrance it is?”

  Shawn lifted his chin from his chest, but took care to avoid looking at the desk. His were as vacant as sockets. His skin was an unhealthy gray pallor. “Eddie really likes CK1.”

  Marissa walked over and put her arm around him. The signs of life she had seen earlier had been replaced by a total lack of interest in his surroundings that worried her. She guessed he was suffering from more than the breakup just now. Shawn had always been able to bounce back quickly from a broken romance. Shock maybe? The stupor that came from thinking your best friend at work was murdered? “Are you going to be okay? Why don’t I get someone take you home?”

  Bandarra walked over to the pair. “Excuse me, but who’s running this investigation? I’ll say when the suspect can leave. Now what about these fragrances?”

  Marissa felt outnumbered by the men in the room. On a good day, she could match them all, but no one would dispute that this was not a good day. “I don’t know all that much about them because I don’t think they’ll be a big seller in the Midwest. Michael Jackson excluded, androgyny isn’t a popular concept in the Bible Belt. I can give you the names of some of the sales reps and they can tell you a lot more about the scents than I can.“