Love Stinks Page 6

  Marissa crossed the ten feet slowly so as not to frighten the man away. He pretended not to notice her as she approached. "Hi. Is there something we can help you with — or are you just waiting for someone?"

  The man didn't turn to face her. "There shouldn't be Perchance in this store. Those ads. Carnal innuendos. You shouldn’t be selling sex in a bottle." His voice was large and bold, reminding her of a bad Charlton Heston imitation. She had expected a squeak out of him.

  "I agree. That’s why we only sell perfume.”

  The man turned to her. His lips were trembling and his face was colorless. "How dare you mock me. The Lord doesn't like it when people mock the FVC. He will call down his mighty wrath upon you."

  Marissa scratched her head in feigned confusion. "I must have missed that commandment in Sunday school. What exactly is the FVC?"

  The man's eyes held a look of disgust in them as if Marissa hadn't been able to recite her Bible verse. "FVC is the Family Values Coalition. We believe that the nation would be better off to go back to the traditional American values as exemplified in the 1950's. A time before kids on drugs, violence on the streets, and unwed mothers."

  Marissa drummed her fingers on her skirt, trying not to shove a finger in his face. "So what you're telling me is that God liked Ike? Did he tell you this personally or did you read it in the Bible?" Marissa fought off her desire to tell him about the Jim Crow laws and how stay-at-home wives had to tolerate their husbands' infidelities and Nixon as Vice-President, but telling off customers wasn't going to go over well with a management already concerned about its image. A low profile would please Zack right now.

  "You radical feminists make fun, but we are serious — deadly serious — and the people of Cincinnati agree with the FVC. Things were better back then. We don't need little girls seeing Calvin Klein ads and wearing make-up."

  Marissa took a deep breath. "That's all very nice, but that still doesn't explain why you've been standing across the aisle from the cosmetic counter for the last fifteen minutes."

  The muscles in the man's neck tightened, showing off wrinkles that told his age. He hadn't been a young man in the fifties either. "I've come to tell you to repent and stop selling that devil's cologne. You are doing the work of Satan here.”

  "That's only a fragrance, like Obsession or Old Spice. I can assure you this is not a store of ill-repute."

  Marissa watched as the man's whole body began to quiver. She stepped back from him.

  "Then you refuse to agree to stop selling this abomination?"

  "For your information, we haven't sold the cologne here since Tuesday. Our entire shipment of Perchance was stolen which I believe is covered in the Ten Commandments. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Marissa turned to Nicole and shrugged.

  He ignored her comments. "But you'll get more and sell it for your thirty pieces of silver, won't you?"

  "Yes. I'm expecting a shipment next week. How many bottles would you like?" As she spoke, the man pulled a crowbar from under his overcoat and started wielding it around him like a sword.

  Marissa stepped back, barely avoiding the arc of the metal pole. Retreating several more paces, she slipped on the marble tile and fell backwards into a rack of lady's slacks. Clothes and Marissa hit the floor with a crash.

  The man bashed the crowbar against the nearest counter, shattering the glass and bending the chrome frame. Nicole hit the floor and covered her head, screaming as she did. Landing on the phone, she picked it up and punched zero for the operator. When the call was connected, she screamed again.

  The man brought down the bar on the photo cut-out of Steve Douglas, creating a gash in the paper head. Marissa watched from the cuffs and hangers. Anne was never going to forgive her for that cut-out being damaged. Small slivers of glass rained on the pants as the man brought down the crowbar again. Security should be able to find the source of the problem just from Nicole's screams, Marissa thought. If Kantor's ever got rid of the girl, Nicole could always find work as a siren.

  Marissa watched as the man started to smash another counter when two large hands grabbed the bar and pushed the man to the ground. Emerging from between the racks, Marissa saw Adam Ziegler standing over the man with one foot on his back, and the crowbar held over his head.

  "What the hell is going on here, Marissa? Have you inspired a crime wave or what?" Adam's bronzed face looked haggard, and Marissa bit back her reply, remembering what Ellen had told her yesterday about Adam’s grief.

  "This man said he was from FVC, some kind of quasi-religious group that doesn't want us to sell Perchance. When I told him that we weren't selling it now, but that we expected a shipment next week, he went berserk and started tearing up everything."

  Nicole stuck her face up over one of the splintered display cases. "You should have seen his face. He looked like a bull when the man waves a red cape in his face. Maybe it was Miss Scott's red dress that set him off."

  Adam wiped his face on his sleeve. "Maybe it was Miss Scott's red tongue that set him off. I'm sure that you told him all of this in a very neutral, matter-of-face tone with none of your usual sarcasm or zingers."

  Marissa looked down at the form on the floor. "Adam, do you think he could have killed Steve? Nicole says that he was here the day of the murder. Maybe someone else from his group did it."

  A voice from the floor said, "Thou shalt not murder! Our members are upstanding citizens of this city."

  Adam stepped harder on the man's back. "And thou shalt not destroy someone else's property." Adam looked up grimly. "The police are on their way, and they can find out what he knows."

  A few minutes later, Marissa heard the sounds of the police sirens. She had gone back to the cosmetics counters to view the damage. Picking up the pieces of a sample bottle, Marissa felt somewhat maudlin. This had been her first department in a brand new store, an opportunity that didn't come around all that often in the shaky retailing industry. Now the remnants of it lay at her feet in shatters as the janitors tried to clean the shards of glass from the aisle. Even after everything was repaired, that pristine quality would still be gone. Brand new could never be recreated, only created. The feeling of first love couldn't be restored.

  Gavin Tish was one of the two officers. "Well, I should have known it was our own Bonnie Parker that was involved. What happened here this time?" Gavin gave her a smile that was more than friendly. His blue eyes sparkled.

  "Maybe I should just set up a donut shop here so you boys would be more comfortable. For your information, I haven't committed any crimes. I have been the victim of more than my share of crimes this week, none of which have yet been solved by the police. Our security staff has been a lot more help than you have."

  Another man started taking pictures as the two uniformed officers watched.

  Gavin looked at her again, this time without a smile. "Maybe I should have called you Dorothy Parker instead." He gave her an uncertain smile. "You shouldn't have cleaned any of this up until we got here."

  Marissa shrugged her shoulders. "I'm sure Zack would be willing to throw out a few quotes for you. Better to ruin a crime scene than be sued by customers for ruining their shoes or cutting their feet. We do have a business to run here." She'd really wanted to clean up the mess to forget her loss and the near attack on her. Marissa didn't want anyone to see her own pain over the destruction.

  Starting to speak and then deciding against it, Gavin bit his lip. He turned to walk back to the smashed counters, but spun around on his heel instead. "Have I done something to offend you, or is this the way you treat everyone who's nice to you?"

  Marissa clenched her fist so hard that her nails cut into her palm. There wasn't time to get over one incident before the next occurred. "No, I think you're an okay guy. In fact, I was just telling one of the security people here how nice you are. Maybe you know her. Ellen Perrino?"

  Gavin exhaled and his shoulders hunched slightly. "So that's what this is all about? Surely, Ellen
told you that there's nothing between us. Just a few dates — nothing to get worked up about. That was all a long time ago."

  "I'm fine with it. Really." Marissa twisted her lip into a half-snarl, half-smile. She found that expression useful when she didn't want people to guess what she was really feeling, and she had perfected the look during her divorce. For some reason, she'd felt a little betrayed by Gavin's past dates with her friend.

  Marissa went back to one of the counters left intact by the FVC proponent. Several people milled around the counter, but all were more interested in the drama than the scents. Marissa still made a point of asking each of them if they needed assistance. One by one, the spectators left, feeling embarrassed. A few women made purchases as if buying something represented a ticket to the event. The pain of seeing the department in shambles was something she wanted to experience alone.

  Nicole had requested a break after the incident, and only Rhonda was left behind the crushed displays. The clerk seemed unfazed by the violence around her, spraying a woman with Chanel and trying to sell her some body lotion.

  Marissa watched as the two officers pulled the man from the floor and handcuffed him. They stood there for several minutes in serious discussion and finally, the deputy led the man towards the door. Gavin walked towards Marissa, measuring his steps carefully so as not to step in the glass.

  "We're going to take him downtown. He's not being cooperative, won't even tell us his name. We looked in his wallet though. Does the name Len Hall mean anything to you? I think he'll crack and tell all after a few hours in a cell. He did get a little white when I mentioned murder charges."

  Marissa's eyes widened. "Do you really think he killed Steve? I tend to doubt Nicole on general principles."

  Gavin shook his head. "Not really. If he had, why come back? We hadn't even given serious consideration to the protesters who were here that day because they didn't have access to Steve. Anymore, they blend into the scenery in Cincinnati. He'd have to be pretty dumb to call attention to himself like this."

  Marissa felt the small hope that had grown within her wither. No quick resolution to her problems. "So why attack us at all?"

  "Publicity. No one was paying attention to them in the parking lot, so they act out. He mentioned something about his daughter too. She'd started wearing make-up at ten, and he just found out he going to be a grandpa at an early age. The sort of thing to drive a parent a little crazy. I'm sure your son — Joshua, would provoke a similar reaction if he grew up too fast."

  Marissa felt uneasy with the mention of Josh. She'd always been wary of bringing him into any new relationship she might have for fear of confusing him even more. She didn't want him to have a parade of serial “uncles.” "I don't think we should be standing here discussing my son. Don't you have some work to do?"

  Gavin sighed and put his sunglasses on. One of those cute ears stuck out at an angle. "Can I borrow your office? I got a call I need to return. And speaking of which, would it be all right if I called you some time?"

  "If you have some information that might help me solve this case and get things back to normal, you can call me any time."

  “Help you?”

  Marissa nodded at the smashed displays. “Didn’t he tell you? He helps her who helps herself.”

  Gavin's face reddened, and Marissa wondered if today might be the day when she pushed everybody to their breaking point. She led Gavin back to her office in silence, regretting her peevishness over the attack. This job was making her say things she really didn't mean.

  Marissa left Gavin at her desk. She walked down past the metal shelves in the room which led back to the storeroom. Gavin's voice was audible from where she stood even though he couldn't see her.

  "What? The drug in Douglas' pocket was Combivir?" His voice rang out through the small area.

  Marissa stepped out from behind the corner, and Gavin stared straight at her.

  Chapter 9

  "Combivir? Isn’t that an HIV medication? Steve Douglas was HIV-positive? Oh, wait until Anne hears about this. She's going to die. This will be a bigger scandal than when Elvis died on the toilet."

  Gavin blanched as he realized what had happened. The officer sputtered a few times before he could speak. "Marissa, you can't tell anyone yet. I'll be in a ridiculous amount of trouble if anyone finds out that I told you. Even if you were eavesdropping."

  Marissa put her hand on her hip and stared at him. "Then what good is it to know this kind of story if I can't tell anybody? It's not like I'm going to tell the world. I just want to share this with Anne." Men never saw the potential for great gossip.

  Gavin made a noise in his throat that was somewhere between strangulation and the Frankenstein monster's roar. He raised his hands about ear level, causing Marissa to notice those ears again. "I can't believe that you are spying on the police. I could drag you into the station for this. You are a thoroughly exasperating woman!"

  Marissa tilted her head. "If you're trying for a date, you're going to have to come up with some better compliments. Besides, I don't want to hear about me. I want to know more about Steve. Do you think he was gay? Or a drug user?"

  "There are a lot of ways to contract HIV if he had it. Not just those. He could've just been — promiscuous." Gavin stumbled over the last word, and Marissa smiled. Nothing like these Cincinnati, west-side boys to think that women with children didn't know the first thing about sex.

  "So where do we go from here?"

  "We're not going anywhere. The first thing I'm going to do is notify the coroner to determine if he really had the disease, and if that was his medicine. Then I'm going to contact his doctor in California to see if he can share how Douglas contracted the disease and find out about his viral load. We were actually on the way here to find Douglas' manager when we got the call about the nut case."

  Marissa smirked. Gavin squirmed as she imitated the slow look Ray West had given her, staring at every inch of the officer. "I can't imagine that he's going to tell you anything that's going to help. His only job seems to be making Steve look like a saint and making a fast buck off his name."

  "Do you have any idea if he's here today?"

  "The only times I've seen him, he's been with Zack Martin. You might try his office."

  "Uh, would you mind?" Gavin's face had a sheepish grin on it. "I still haven't gotten the hang of the layout here. Could you show me where his office is?"

  Marissa knew a line when she heard one. If the police department couldn't find an office, she didn't know how they ever solved a case. They might as well write this one off now. "Aren't you going to wait for your partner? I thought you guys did everything in pairs, like women going to the bathroom."

  "No. He's took your vandal down to the station. He'll pick me up later."

  Marissa watched him carefully as she led him to the escalator without a trip through lingerie this time. She'd given enough people a hard time today, although she did want to ask this man when the two officers had decided on this division of labor and why it seemed so convenient. She wasn't a big believer in fate.

  Once upstairs, Marissa led Gavin back the main aisle and into the offices. Zack's door was open. Hearing voices inside, she paused at the door to let Gavin pass by. Zack and Ray West were in the office huddled over some papers, not noticing the pair in the doorway.

  Gavin cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Mr. Martin. I have some questions for Mr. West about Steve Douglas. Is there somewhere we could talk?"

  Zack looked up first and started. Before anyone could speak, he was up from his chair and out of the office. Marissa took her time, pushing the door most of the way closed as she left. She had only made it a few steps down the hall when she stopped to listen. Leaning over, the cosmetic buyer pretended to play with her shoe. It worked once, why not go double or nothing?

  "We need to talk about some information the police have uncovered about Steve Douglas." She recognized Gavin's deep voice and allowed herself a little smile. When she found th
at she had been distracted, she shook her head and concentrated. "The drug found in Douglas' pocket was Combivir. The police want to contact Steve's doctor in California to verify he was HIV-positive. Do you have his name?"

  Marissa heard a protracted, dramatic sigh. That had to be West. "If you're only interested in finding out whether Steve had the disease, I can tell you he did. He had caught it a few years back. He’d had next to no viral load for the past few years, but apparently he didn’t take his meds on a regular basis on location during his last movie. I’m not sure why. He’d shown a few symptoms and that scared him. This next movie would probably have been his last for a while, even if he hadn't been murdered. The schedules and the meds take a lot out of someone. He needed some down time.”

  "Why didn't you tell us this before? It's evidence in a murder investigation."

  Louise walked towards the office, and Marissa waved her away, shaking her head violently. The woman stopped and headed back towards her desk. Nothing could surprise a secretary who'd been at Kantor's for twenty-five years.

  "I didn't think it important. After all, he didn't die of a disease; he was poisoned. What difference could that make? We'd been trying for months to keep it out of the papers. There was a little incident with The National Enquirer a couple of weeks ago, but I hushed that up. I didn't want to tell everyone in case it didn't need to be told."

  The roaring noise Gavin had made earlier came from the room. "So what was his doctor's name? We'll still want to verify this information."

  "Smith. I have his phone number back at the hotel if you want it." Marissa rolled her eyes. Why couldn't West at least be original in picking a name? Smith was probably the name he used to register at sleazy motels with, too.

  "That would be fine. You can call headquarters with the number today."

  "How much longer will I have to stay in this hick town? I have important work in L.A., you know?"

  "It all depends. If you keep dishing out your information in spoonfuls, you could be here til next Christmas."