Lavender Lipstick Lies: A Mystery of Makeup & Mayhem (3 page)

Chapter 6

Less than ten minutes later, a loud
knock echoed through the silent suite from the front door.

Bree and I were sitting on one of
the sofas near the wall of windows. Emma, who had been pacing wildly since calling
the front desk, hurried across the room.

“Don’t open it until you look
through the peep hole!” Bree said uneasily.

Emma complied with the request,
easing the door open slightly with the chain guard still securely in place.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” a deep
voice boomed. “My name is Trevor Cole. I’m the director of security for the hotel.
I understand there’s been a disturbance in your suite.”

“Do you have some type of ID?” Emma
asked hesitantly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but we’re all a little jumpy at
this point.”

The man smiled and nodded. “I
understand completely,” he said, reaching into his jacket pocket. “Here you go,
ma’am.” He held up an official hotel photo ID. “Ladies, you’re more than
welcome to inspect it as well. I’m here to help diffuse the situation, so I
want you to be completely comfortable.”

Bree gave my hand another squeeze
before she got up from the sofa and walked over to the door.

“Looks legit to me,” she said,
smiling. “Please come in, Mr. Cole.”

Emma removed the chain guard and
stepped to the side as the handsome security director entered our suite. He was
dressed in a trim dark suit with a white shirt and navy tie. From the subtle
bulge on his left hip, I imagined he was carrying a holstered gun beneath the
jacket.

“Thank you,” the man replied, stepping
into the suite. “According to our registration, you three are in the hotel for
the Splendora Beauty meeting?”

“That’s right,” Emma said. “We just
checked in a couple of hours ago.”

The man glanced at his phone,
swiping the screen with one finger. “And which of you is Emma Walters?”

“That’s me,” Emma said, raising one
hand.

“And I’m Bree Sanderson,”
volunteered Bree.

Trevor Cole looked at his phone
again before aiming his vibrant green eyes at me.

“That makes you Abby Edison?” he
asked.

I nodded as another rush of icy
chills tumbled down my back.

“Okay, thank you, ladies,” Cole
said. “I like to start by associating names with faces during things like
this.”

“How are you going to find out who
did this?” Emma suddenly demanded. “We’re all pretty freaked out by what just
happened!”

Trevor Cole nodded solemnly. “I completely
understand,” he said. “And I am so deeply sorry for the inconvenience and
distress you’ve just experienced. Why don’t you start from the beginning and
tell me what happened, Ms. Edison?” He paused, walked closer and stood a few
feet from where I was sitting. “From the report I received, the disturbance was
in your room. Is that correct, ma’am?”

Emma and Bree both silently turned
and waited.

“Ma’am?” Trevor Cole said. “Can you
tell me what prompted your call to security?”

I nodded and took a breath. “Yes,”
I said in a quiet voice. “It actually started by the pool when we first
arrived.”

Emma frowned. “By the
pool
?”
she blurted. “I thought you told us that you were in the shower when someone
turned off the lights.”

“That’s right,” Bree said,
returning to the sofa and sitting beside me. “And then you found the
threatening message on the mirror.”

“Yes, all of that is true,” I said,
collecting my thoughts. “But when we first arrived this afternoon, I received
another threat that was also written in Splendora lipstick.”

Trevor Cole pulled out a small
leather-bound pad and sleek silver pen. He scribbled a few notes while I
continued my story.

“Remember, Bree? You went to the
bar to get our drinks while I waited at the table?”

She nodded her head. “Yeah, I
remember. And I also remember that a hotel employee came over, but you said he was
giving out promotional stuff about the resort.”

I felt a lump of guilt swell in my
chest. “I didn’t want you to worry,” I said, reaching for my purse. “I hoped
that maybe it was a prank or someone’s idea of a silly game.” I pulled out the
envelope that the front desk clerk had given me earlier in the day. “But now
I’m beginning to realize that it’s nothing like that at all.”

Trevor Cole walked over and held
out his hand. “May I see that, please?”

I gave him the envelope and waited
while he read the message inside.

“What does it say?” Emma asked.

“It says: ‘Winning comes at a very
high price,’” the man answered, keeping his eyes on the sheet of paper. “‘Beware
the Achiever banquet on Saturday night.’”

Emma and Bree exchanged an
apprehensive look.

“Why would you think that’s a
game?” Emma glared at me before reading the message over the man’s shoulder.
“It’s obviously a serious threat of some sort.”

Trevor Cole returned the note to
the envelope. “Is this why you called for security?” he asked. “I was under the
impression that something had also occurred here in your suite.”

I nodded. “Yes, it did,” I said,
pointing toward my open bedroom door. “In there.”

“Someone broke in!” Bree said,
tightening her grip on my hand. “While we were all taking showers and getting
ready for dinner.”

“Did you see the person?” asked
Cole.

“I caught a glimpse as they ran
from my room,” I answered. “I saw a floppy red hat and a flowery caftan. It had
a light blue background with bright green and yellow daisies.”

He nodded and made a note. “And
which room is yours, ma’am?”

I pointed again at the open doorway
on the far side of the suite.

“Do you mind if I take a look?” Cole
said.

“Of course!” Emma answered. “We
need you to figure out what’s going on and who’s doing this.”

While Bree and I stayed behind on
the sofa, Emma followed Trevor Cole into my room. I could hear their voices as
they talked, but the words were indecipherable.

“Are you okay?” Bree asked softly.

I smiled. “As okay as I can be
considering the circumstances,” I said. “Nothing like this has ever happened to
me.”

She gave me a warm hug. “You’re
not
alone, okay? Emma and I are right beside you!”

Chapter 7

As we waited for Trevor Cole to inspect
the threatening message on the mirror, I reflected on the roller coaster ride
that had started early in the morning. The trip to Las Vegas had been in the
works for months. Since the three of us decided to attend our fifth Splendora
convention together, I’d been anticipating the excitement and surprises of
another great experience—not the astonishing and baffling events that had
unfolded in the past few hours.

“One way or another,” Bree said as
I felt her squeeze my hand again, “we’re going to get through this as a team!”

I did my best to smile and seem
confident, but my stomach was twisting and turning in an endless loop of
anxiety and insecurity. It was like I’d somehow been transported from the
planned and predictable arrangements of our weekend getaway into a Hollywood
horror movie with unnamed villains and whispered threats.

“Do you want anything to drink?”
asked Bree. “There’s coconut water and chilled wine in the mini-bar? It might
help you relax a little.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine. I
just want whatever this is to be over.”

We sat and waited quietly until
Emma and the hotel’s security chief came back into the living room.

“What do you think?” I asked.

Trevor Cole nodded thoughtfully. “Very
curious,” he said. “Is that lipstick sold by your company?”

“Yes,” Bree offered. “It’s Splendora’s
most popular shade and all image consultants receive a Lyrically Luscious
Collection every year at the holiday party.”

“So that would mean everyone attending
the conference could potentially have a tube of that lipstick in their
possession?”

Bree shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“Not to mention customers of the
brand,” Cole said. “Which doesn’t help narrow the list of suspects very much.”

I released Bree’s hand and stood. “Has
anything like this been reported by anyone else attending the conference?”

“No, and I’m very sorry that it’s
happened to you,” Cole said. “But I do see two things immediately that are
possibly telling clues.”

“What?” Bree asked, sitting forward
in her seat. “Maybe we’ll be able to help find out who’s doing this?”

“The most obvious thing is that
they used lipstick or a similar implement to write the notes,” he said.

“It’s Lyrically Luscious Lavender!”
I offered. “Besides being incredibly popular, it was also the first product
Splendora ever developed. It’s still one of the company’s best-sellers every
year.”

Trevor Cole made a note in his pad.
“Very well,” he said. “That’s definitely an interesting choice made by the
individual or individuals responsible for the notes.”

“You think more than one person is
involved?” asked Bree.

“It’s too soon to know,” answered
the security director. “Whenever we conduct an investigation, we have to keep
an open mind. This could be the handiwork of one person. Or it’s also possible
that two or more people are doing this.”

Emma pressed her lips into a frown.
“Abby, do you have any ideas?”

I shook my head. “I’m completely at
a loss,” I said. “After what happened this morning, my mind can barely process any
of this.”

Trevor Cole’s face shifted into a
look of deep interest. “What happened this morning?” he asked. “Was it another
note similar to what’s written on the mirror?”

I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t
anything like that. And it didn’t happen here in Las Vegas. It was…” My face
flushed bright red as the startling image of Robert in our living room jumped
into my mind again. “It didn’t have anything to do with this,” I continued. “It
was a…” I glanced at Emma and Bree, but they were waiting patiently just like
Trevor Cole. “I’ll just tell you that it was a personal matter unrelated to the
conference.”

Emma suddenly gasped. “Wait a sec,”
she said. “What if it
is
somehow connected?”

The possibility sent tremors
through my heart. “How could it be?” I asked. “What would my husband’s
attempted infidelity have to do with someone warning me about the Achiever
Award?”

I glanced at the security director.
His face was blank; I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He reminded me of the
police detectives in the movies: stoic, strong and watchful.

“Well, Mr. Cole?” I asked. “What do
we do next?”

“First of all, I’d like to move you
three to our VIP floor for greater security and privacy,” Cole said. “There are
actually a few other conference attendees on that floor already. You should
keep that in mind since we don’t know yet who is behind the threats. After you’ve
moved to a new suite, I’ll get my full team involved. We have a forensics
expert on the staff, and I’ll ask her to sweep this suite for any additional
clues. I’ll have our surveillance consultant review all of the footage from the
CCTV cameras in the hallway and elevators to see if we can identify whoever
entered your suite. And the last thing we can do is check the digitized records
to see if we can determine which passkey was used to gain entry.”

“What good does that do?” Bree
said.

“Every employee with authorized
clearance is issued a unique passkey,” explained the security director.
“Whenever they enter a room or unlock a door anywhere in the resort, the computerized
system documents the key’s serial number.”

“And that would identify who came
into our suite?” I asked.

“It will let us know which passkey
was used,” Cole answered. “Now, do you agree with my proposal to move to
another suite?”

Emma and Bree looked at me. I shrugged
and waited. Finally, Trevor Cole suggested we let him decide.

“I know this hotel,” he explained.
“And I believe you’ll feel more secure on the VIP level.”

“I suppose that’s a good idea,” I
agreed. “At this point, I’m feeling pretty shaky and uneasy. I don’t really
want to risk going through anything like what just happened again while we’re
here.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Emma
offered. “I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you, Abby. How
terrifying to see a stranger run out of your room!”

“And finding that horrible
message!” Bree added. “That gives me shivers just thinking about it.”

Trevor Cole pulled out his phone
and made a quick call to the front desk. He filled them in on our move, but
didn’t give any specifics. When he finished, he explained that members of his
security team would be up in a half hour to help us move our luggage to the new
suite. He added that someone had already checked the digitized records and determined
that a master passkey stolen from the front desk had been used to gain entry to
our suite.

“That’s a rare breach in our
security,” Cole added. “But, luckily, another guest found the passkey a few
minutes ago and returned it to the front desk.”

“That’s good,” said Emma. “Although
it’s pretty disturbing that they were able to steal it in the first place.”

Cole nodded. “I don’t disagree,” he
said. “And you can rest assured that I’ll be looking into the stolen passkey
situation as well.”

“Thank you so much,” I offered. “We
really appreciate your help with all of this.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Cole
said, turning for the door. “And I’d like to apologize again for this
unsettling episode. I want you to know that my team and I will work diligently
to identify and apprehend whoever is responsible for this unfortunate incident.”

Chapter 8

Moving from our original suite to
new accommodations on the VIP floor took less than an hour. The hotel sent
three female security guards to help us with the process. Luckily, we hadn’t
fully unpacked our luggage, so it was relatively easy to collect everything and
transfer the bags. Once we were settled in the new suite and Trevor Cole fully
explained the additional security features associated with the exclusive level
of the hotel, I suggested we head for dinner and a night in the casino. Besides
giving each of us his private phone number, the hotel security director had
promised to keep in touch as he conducted a thorough investigation into the
intrusion. Knowing that he was on the case, I felt a bit less anxious about
going forward with our weekend plans.

“Should we try again?” Emma said
after the security director had left. “Let’s see if we can finish getting ready
without another scary interruption.”

Bree patted my arm. “Are you okay,
Abby?”

I nodded and put on a brave face
even though the nervous jitters were still twisting around in my stomach.

“Okay then,” Emma said brightly.
“Our dinner reservation is in an hour. That gives us time to get ready and
swing through the casino on the way. I’m feeling pretty lucky now that we’re
officially VIPs!”

Bree giggled and I managed a weak
smile before heading for my room. The curtains were open and I turned to admire
the fading sunlight and glittering panorama that stretched from our hotel
toward the horizon. In the distance, I saw the jagged ridge of mountains
against the glowing orange sky. It was a magical sight; one of my favorite
things about visiting Las Vegas was experiencing the natural beauty of the
desert. On our last trip, we’d used one of our afternoon leisure sessions to
tour the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

For a brief moment, I stood at the
windows and conjured a vision of that seemingly long ago carefree afternoon. I
pictured Bree and Emma hiking along one of the dusty desert trails, laughing
and joking without a care in the world. Although the past few hours had been
the exact opposite of such lighthearted moments, I was going to do my best to
whisk away the nagging fears and make our first night in Vegas as memorable as
possible.

“Are you just about ready?” Bree
called through the door.

I glanced at the clock beside the
bed. “Give me ten more minutes,” I answered. “I was admiring the view, but I’ll
kick into gear now.”

“Take your time,” she replied.
“Emma already called the restaurant. They had a cancellation, so we moved our
reservation back by a half hour.”

The additional time would give me a
chance to freshen my makeup and check my hair before slipping into one of the
new dresses I bought for the weekend. As I crossed the room toward where I’d
left my makeup bag, my phone buzzed on the desk. I retraced my steps, grabbed the
droning device and looked at the screen. It was my husband. Again. He’d called
nearly a dozen times since we left St. Louis that morning, but I’d ignored the
messages he left.

Knowing that he’d keep it up if I
didn’t talk to him, I anxiously clicked onto the call.

“Hello, Robert,” I said in a cool,
clipped voice.

“You’re okay!” he gushed in a
breathless tone. “I’ve been worried sick about you, Abby!”

After six years of marriage, I
could tell that he was being sincere. There was a deep timber to Robert’s voice
whenever he was concerned or troubled about something. I heard it the time I
was in a minor car accident. I heard it when his brother was involved in a
bowling alley brawl in Chicago. And I was hearing it now as he flooded the
phone with an endless monologue about how sorry he was for the strange
interlude that morning.

“I don’t want to talk about this
now,” I said when he finally paused to take a breath. “I’m here in Las Vegas
for business meetings and some frivolous fun with the girls. I saw what I saw
this morning, Robert. There’s no way you can deny that a scantily-clad woman
was in our house with you.”

“I’m not trying to deny that,” he
said. “I’m trying to tell you that I have no idea who she was!”

I blurted out a laugh in response.
“Oh, come on! You’ve got to do better than that. She was gazing at you like a
woman in—”

“Please, Abby! I’m begging you! I
have
no clue
who that was. After you left for the airport, I went back
to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee. A few minutes later, the doorbell
rang. I figured it was a delivery or one of the neighbors, so I opened the
door. That’s when the blonde pushed past me, went into the living room and took
off her coat.”

I detected the same serious tone in
Robert’s voice as he described the events of the morning. But there was also
something ludicrous about the explanation. Why would a stranger wearing nothing
but lingerie suddenly appear on our doorstep? Why would she barge into our
home? And why was she leering at me mischievously when I came back to retrieve
our airline tickets?

“I’m sorry, Robert,” I said. “I
find your story very hard to believe.”

He groaned softly. “Don’t you think
I know that?” he implored. “I don’t even believe that it happened and I was
there!”

“I need to go,” I said. “The girls
are—”

“She knew things about your past,”
he suddenly announced. “She knew your maiden name, Abby. And where your parents
lived. And the stuff you did when you were in school—debate club and theater and
all of those things.”

“Oh, c’mon, Robert. Now you’re
really
pouring it on a little too thick. Do you even hear yourself? Do you know how
ridiculous you sound?”

“But, sweetheart,” he protested.
“It’s the absolute truth! I got the license number from the convertible she was
driving. I gave it to Barney and asked him to see if he can identify her.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
“You’re dragging your private detective friend into this charade?”

“It’s not a charade,” Robert
implored. “It’s the truth! I don’t know who that woman is. I didn’t invite her
over to our house. And I would
never
cheat on you in a million years,
Abby. I love you, honey. I know how special you are—the most beautiful and
loving woman a man could ever hope to meet. I made a vow to be faithful and
that will
never
change.”

I held the phone to my chest and
thought about Robert’s impassioned plea. He sounded so sincere and remorseful. The
more I reflected on the bizarre situation from the morning and my husband’s
heartfelt words, the more I began to think that I should consider that he was
telling the truth. After all, sometimes things aren’t what they seem to be on
first glance.

“Abby?” Robert called. “Are you
still there?”

I pressed the phone to my ear.

“I love you,” he said. “I’ve
always
loved you. And I
always
will.”

I took a deep breath and counted to
ten. “Maybe I just need some time to think,” I said slowly.

“I understand that,” my husband
said. “I keep replaying the whole thing through your eyes, honey. I get why
you’d be upset. I mean, you come through the door and there I am with some
half-dressed stranger. I know it looked bad. And I was so tongue-tied that I
probably sounded like the world’s biggest idiot. But it most definitely was not
what it appeared to be.”

A loud knock on my bedroom door
startled me so much that I jumped.

“Abby!” Bree yelled. “Are you done
making yourself gorgeous?”

“Be right there,” I answered. “I
just need to finish a couple of things.”

“Are you and the girls going out?”
Robert asked.

I didn’t feel like answering his
question, so I simply reminded him that I would think about what he’d told me.

“I would
never
hurt you,
Abby.” His voice quivered with a gloomy sadness. “And I want to do whatever I
can to make this right. Can we talk later tonight?”

“I don’t know. I need time to
process all of this.”

Robert sighed. “I get that,” he
said. “And I understand. I’ll be ready when you are, babe.”

After he told me that he loved me,
I disconnected the call and dropped the phone in my purse. Then I put on my
highest heels, fluffed my hair a final time and headed for a night of fun with
my two best friends.