Love Stinks Read online

  Marissa chuckled. "Obviously, Tom isn't there. Where's he at tonight?"

  "Working late. Say, you could call the police. Maybe you could get your police officer to come back to the store. I saw the way he was making eyes at you. Could be there's a new romance in your future."

  Marissa was too tired to object to her friend's matchmaking. Anne had already tried to push Adam on her, but Marissa drew the line at dating someone from work. Plus the man had been a bachelor for too long to whip into shape. "I'm not interested. You're going to make someone a great mother, just not me."

  "Marissa, you can't cut every guy off because a couple of jerks haven't wanted to get involved with a single mother. You might be passing up Mr. Right without a chance. You've got to be willing to try." Anne made everything look so easy. Marry your high school sweetheart, have him support you in everything, and never suffer public rejection. It was easy for her to talk about trying. Marissa had to balance on the tight rope of baring her soul to prospective husbands and fathers while fearing another failure at relationships. Sometimes not trying was the easiest option.

  Joshua ran into the room and pulled on his mother's skirt. "Watch TV. Now."

  Marissa was glad to cut the phone conversation short and went into the living room. She stretched out on the extra-long couch, cuddled up with Joshua, and started to watch a Looney Tunes cartoons tape for about the tenth time this week. Mother and son drifted off to sleep before the first "That's All, Folks."

  Chapter 4

  Marissa looked at her watch and shook her head again. Still ten minutes before the store opened. What could she have been thinking? Nothing was so important to get to work two hours before the mall opened. She couldn't even shop to kill time. Fortunately, some of the cleaning people had come in early to tidy up after yesterday's disaster.

  The newly remodeled parking garage had been empty. Marissa popped open the can of soda and started on her paperwork. After a thirteen hour day yesterday, she had planned on sleeping in since department heads didn't receive overtime pay. Hiding in her back room office seemed the easiest way to go unnoticed and be expected to do this every day. Joshua had been a chore to rouse this morning, and Marissa's mood showed it.

  The twenty-four drycleaners hadn't held out much hope for Steve's jacket. Marissa had used club soda on the juice, but it left another stain on the raw silk. The man promised to try every spot remover in the store if he had to, but he just kept shaking his head when he looked at it. They would have the sports coat ready in a few minutes, and then she could hand it over to Zack and forget about this mess. Life was complicated enough without getting involved in murder investigations.

  Marissa had also made several copies of the two sheets of paper she had found in the jacket. Technically, the copier was only to be used for business purposes, but if the head of housewares could pass out copies of his butt, Marissa felt justified in doing just about anything legal with the machine.

  She checked the perfume exhibits as she returned from the back room. Nicole was there, busily moving around the displays.

  "Mrs. Scott, what are you doing here? Did you set your alarm wrong?" Nicole's smile made Marissa bristle. She was never sure if the clerk was just slow or poking fun at her. Nicole's green blouse covered with dancing reindeer was more than Marissa could take at this hour.

  "Call me Ms. Scott, please or Marissa. Mrs. Scott was my mother. I had some paperwork that I had to finish this morning. Yesterday didn't leave me enough time to do everything that needed to be done."

  Nicole went back to adjusting the displays. "I didn't either. I thought it would be cute if all the color names were together, so I'm grouping Red with Navy." She held up a bottle of each.

  Marissa's nerves frayed. "Put them back! They're divided like that for a reason. None of the cosmetic reps want to come in and try to find a display that's been alphabetized or colorized or whatever it is you're trying to do. They're supposed to be grouped by supplier." Marissa put a hand on her forehead, inwardly cursing Nicole's enthusiasm and lack of experience. Perhaps management would like to see their choice for cosmetic clerk in action. "There's a lot of brand recognition in perfume and grouping by manufacturer makes it easier for the reps to find and work on their own displays."

  Nicole's face dropped as Marissa turned on her heel and walked to the mall entrance. Adam was talking to the man sending the mesh gate up, and Marissa took a series of deep breaths as she waited. Marissa noticed the muscles in Adam's chest through his green and yellow patterned shirt and the stiff military posture of his Nikes. At least Anne had good taste in the men she tried to interest her friend in. Marissa looked at her own high-heels and shook her head. She was definitely in the wrong field to be dressing like this.

  "Hey, Riss. I see you survived yesterday." The heavy metal mesh rose slowly as Adam spoke. He tugged on one of the belt loops of his jeans, trying to make them all stand at attention.

  "Whatever happened with the protesters?"

  "They all disappeared before the police arrived. The cops asked if I got any of their names. Like I had time to chat with anyone yesterday." Although Adam was speaking in a calm voice, his face looked as though he was in pain. Marissa wondered what emotions struggled behind that tanned exterior, but his years of experience in the military police must have taught him discretion.

  "Have you heard anything else about Steve's death?"

  Adam ran his hand through his blond hair. Marissa noticed the deep creases in his forehead. Too much sun or too many worries? "Just that it was definitely some kind of poison. The police take their own sweet time. There were a good thousand people in the mall yesterday, and any one of them could have killed that actor."

  Marissa left Adam abruptly and hurried down the mall to the drycleaning store. The man behind the counter frowned as he saw her enter. Marissa thought about just going home to bed and starting the day over tomorrow. "Bad news. I tried everything I could and I got the spot to lighten up considerably, but there's still a stain. If I were you, I'd donate it to a clothing drive. It was an expensive jacket too, such nice tailoring. It set someone back a pretty penny."

  Marissa took the jacket in its plastic covering and walked slowly back to her office. She tore the wrapping off and stuffed it along with the hanger into the trash barrel. She spent a few minutes dawdling, trying to determine what she was going to say to Kantor's management. Picking up the papers and prescription medicine, she walked upstairs to the main office. She smiled weakly to Zack Martin's secretary who could barely see over the partition and sat down in one of the lobby chairs. " Louise , is Zack in?"

  The woman nodded without looking up and pressed a button on her phone. "Marissa Scott to see you." She turned around and started typing again as if even the Lindbergh kidnaping wouldn't faze her.

  The door opened almost immediately, and Zack burst out of the room. Marissa wondered if he had been standing just inside the door or if he was always so energetic at this time of the morning. She didn't plan on finding out. "Marissa, what can I do for you?"

  "I like to talk privately if you don't mind." She stood and walked into his office, throwing the jacket and its contents on the brown leather sofa. She gazed around the room, avoiding the man's eyes. Zack's office decor didn't match the rest of the offices. His carpet was the color of champagne unlike the industrial blue carpet that covered the other offices and conference rooms. A few stock still-lifes hung on the walls. Marissa wondered if Zack had chosen these furnishings or management provided this luxury. Sitting in the chair opposite his oversized desk, she leaned back and closed her eyes.

  "As Dorothy Parker would say, what fresh hell is this?" Zack crossed the room quickly and sat down at his desk. "I don't know how many more of your surprises I can handle. My nerves are shot, and I think I feel a migraine coming on. Another incident like yesterday and I won't be able to control my blood pressure at all."

  Marissa thought about making a crack about his feet not touching the floor, but decided against
it. "I forgot to tell the police something yesterday with all the — excitement. I was rather frazzled. You'll probably want to return it to Steve's family." She pointed to the sofa while Zack stood up and investigated the jacket.

  "What happened to it? It's lavender. I don't remember this color when Steve was here yesterday. How did you get this?"

  "The pig threw it at me, called me 'doll' and asked me not to wrinkle it, because he didn't want to pay a dry-cleaning bill."

  "So you ruined it. On purpose." Zack held up the jacket. It more than covered his slight frame. "Your reputation as a troublemaker precedes you."

  "I didn't do it on purpose. I put it with my purse and took it home last night. Joshua spilled juice on it. If it's any consolation, it ruined my purse, too."

  Zack sighed, sounding skeptical. Marissa hadn't expected an easy reception. "This isn't like the time when the wedding dress of the soon-to-be second Mrs. Scott was found with a big red letter 'A' on it, is it? She caused a big fuss about that. We had to pay for another dress at another store."

  Marissa wondered if she would ever live that incident down. She'd ruined the dress and become something of a company legend in the process. Half of the employees looked at her as if she might attack them at any moment while the rest idolized her retribution on Dan. Marissa's boss at the time had even offered more suggestions on how to ruin the wedding, including altering the bridal registry.

  Now Marissa shook her head. Her bangs fell down in her eyes so that Zack couldn't see their reaction, a mixture of guilt and annoyance. "I paid for that dress, but Dan had it coming. Besides, that teeny-bopper didn't even know what it meant. They just chose the downtown store where I worked to rub it in. I didn't have anything personal against Steve other than he behaved like a jerk. If I threw grape juice on every jerk I met, I'd never get my sales reports done." She gave Zack a smile that let him know he was included.

  "So what am I supposed to do with all this stuff? Just call the police? What am I supposed to tell them?"

  "I thought you'd have a better idea about how to handle it. I wished I'd never seen the stuff, but I figured the police can use all the help they can get. I don't hold out a lot of hope that they are going to solve this."

  "And why is that, young lady?" The voice came from behind Marissa and she spun in her seat, twisting at the waist to see the speaker. Mr. Grayson, Kantor's president, wore a light gray suit that almost matched the color of his hair. His expression looked as if he had just smelled something unpleasant. Certainly not the smell of money that came with opening another store in the chain.

  Beside the stately CEO was a man Marissa had never met before, but she instantly disliked him. She wasn't sure if it was the way he let his eyes linger over her, or the just too trendy cut of his double-breasted suit, but she felt annoyed as she tried to decide on a suitable reply. "Divorce doesn't leave you a pleasant aftertaste about the legal system, and I wasn't impressed with them when the police came to question me last night. I spend a lot of time summing up customers as to whether or not they are just looking or really going to buy. The police gave me the feeling that they were just window shopping. A casual glance at the facts, not picking them up and studying them."

  Grayson cleared his throat and managed to sound like a walrus. Marissa hadn't expected such a high level reception and started feeling a little intimidated. "Ms. Scott, it is in the best interest of the store if this whole matter is cleared up as quickly as possible. It won't help our business any for customers to think that they can be killed while shopping, especially at Christmas. It seems incongruous to have peace on earth and a movie star murder in the same mall. Help the police as much as possible. To use your analogy, we don't have time to window shop. We need an impulse purchase, and since everyone knows that perfume is an impulse item, you should know how to handle this situation." Marissa wondered how far Grayson would go to make this an impulse item.

  The other man crossed the room and sat down in the chair next to Marissa. He was probably in his mid-thirties with slicked back dark hair and the beginnings of crow's feet around his dark eyes. He crossed his legs to show Marissa his dark gray snake-skinned boots. "So tell me, has anyone ever told you that you could be a model?"

  Marissa brought a hand to her throat in mock surprise. "Why, no. Has anyone ever told you that line is tired?"

  The man laughed, showing off his perfect white teeth. "Actually, they have. My name is Ray. I was Steve's business manager."

  Zack made a face that looked as if he'd just swallowed his tongue, but recovered his composure enough to make a more formal introduction. "Raymond West, Marissa Scott. Marissa is the head of our cosmetics department. She was with Steve when he — passed on."

  "Mr. West and I have just been discussing the need to downplay the publicity surrounding the murder." Grayson filled the door frame, perfectly straight and still. "The police have determined foul play was involved."

  "Disagreeing is more like it. To be frank, Steve's next movie is a real stinker, and this is just the thing to pick up box office. Not my first choice on PR techniques, but you work with what you get. Critics will have a hard time panning a dead guy." West's hand dropped to his side, dangling it so that it brushed against her leg. Marissa quietly pushed it off, causing him to almost lose his balance.

  "I'm not sure what any of this has to do with me." Marissa fidgeted in her chair, thinking of all the tasks that needed to be done in cosmetics and what Nicole was probably doing to them. Besides, she was feeling a little outnumbered.

  "I was thinking that a vivacious and attractive woman like yourself could handle the publicity surrounding the case. I thought some sex appeal might get more notice than the dry press releases that will come out of the front office here. Plus you had a ringside seat at his death." West adjusted his tie, a loud pattern that matched his personality.

  Marissa didn't speak, feeling the weight of all three men's eyes staring at her. She didn't feel that a suitable riposte was in order. "That would entirely depend on my management. I enjoy my current position and don't want to do anything to jeopardize my job." Marissa gave herself an inward pat on the back for her tact. Next thing she knew she could be running for city council.

  Mr. Grayson coughed again. "Well said, well said. I think that it would be best for you to continue in your current position. There's no reason to give this store's opening any more bad publicity. The Christmas sales receipts will probably be down without more press releases and people talking about this. The police can catch the murderer without our involvement."

  Marissa gave Zack a wink. "I'd be delighted to stay in my current position. Is there anything else we need to discuss?"

  Ray stood up and stopped dead in his tracks. "Isn't that Steve's jacket? What's it doing here, and why does it look like —that?"

  Zack's face turned pink. For once, he stopped tapping his pen on the desk and swinging his foot and sat motionless. "Marissa just brought that in. Apparently, Steve asked her to hold the jacket, and she forgot about it in the melee."

  Ray picked it up gingerly. "Steve was like that, always going off and forgetting things. What's worse was that he used to pick up things that didn't belong to him, like that man's wallet when we were in Vail. You know, sometimes I felt more like a nanny than a business manager. I had to scramble to keep that one out of the press, but I guess that doesn't matter now. Still doesn't explain this color. Lavender and tan aren't exactly the best combo."

  Marissa explained the situation briefly and left out her thoughts on throwing the jacket away. Grayson and West stood and listened without saying a word.

  The president looked like he was in pain. "I guess we have no choice but to call the police and ask them to take charge of this."

  Ray's face broke into a grin, showing off those perfect teeth again. "Well, all right, now we're talking. More publicity for my biggest client."

  Chapter 5

  Nicole pushed her head through the curtains that led to the back room. "The police
are out front, and they want to talk to you." Marissa had her hand in her hair, half from exhaustion and half frustration. Any morning that included Martinizing and Zack Martin could produce bride-of-Frankenstein hair. She stood up and moved towards the doorway.

  "Uh, you might want to do something with your hair. The cute one's here again. You know, the one you were flirting with." Nicole's eyebrow went up a half inch before she turned and left.

  "I wasn't flirting," Marissa said to the empty room, but she retraced her steps to the metal desk and pulled a brush from the top drawer. A cosmetic department head owed it to the store to look presentable to the public.

  When she emerged a few minutes later, Marissa's hair looked presentable, and she had applied part of a lipstick sample she had found in the desk. The two officers were standing near the empty Perchance display with a uniformed policeman. Marissa could tell the older man was in charge from his stiff posture. He wore a black trenchcoat with a suit and tie. His curly hair was almost entirely gray and his wire-rimmed glasses slid down his nose.

  Gavin stepped forward as Marissa approached. He extended his hand and shook hers gently, but for a long time. "Ms. Scott, it's nice to see you again. We just finished talking to your manager, Zack Martin. He told us about the jacket. We had a few more questions for you."

  "Please, call me Marissa."

  "Only if you call me Gavin. Now about those questions."

  The gray haired man spoke up. "You can call me sick. How about starting with why you withheld evidence from the police?" The man in the suit had a deep voice that sounded like it had been soaked in cigarettes and sarcasm. Marissa didn't have to look at him to know that she had met him a thousand times in a thousand different men. The only thing they had in common was their superior attitude and Marissa's reaction to them.

  Gavin turned a shade of red that didn't go well with his suit. "This is Sergeant Bandarra from Homicide."