Lavender Lipstick Lies: A Mystery of Makeup & Mayhem (9 page)

Chapter 21

The room was still and hushed as
the door closed behind Gillian Smart. I concentrated on keeping my hands folded
in my lap and my expression as calm as possible.

“That’s better,” Felicia said
finally. “Gillian’s a wonderful girl, but she has a tendency to overreach and
worry.”

“I’m sorry if I seemed
disrespectful,” I said. “But this whole thing has become a stressful
nightmare.”

Felicia nodded. “I can see it on
your face, Abby. And I can hear it in your voice.”

“Well, I’m pretty freaked out,” I
said. “I’ve never met Amanda Woodworth before, but for some reason she’s trying
to frighten me so that I’ll drop out of the Achiever of the Award finalists
before tonight’s banquet.”

Felicia winced as if she’d just
smelled something rotten. “Why on earth would you say such a thing?” she asked.
“And what proof do you have?”

“Proof?” I said in nearly a
whisper.

“Yes, Abby,” Felicia replied. “You
can’t just accuse Amanda of this scheme without proof. That would be
disastrous. If it turned out to be a false charge, she could sue you for slander.
And she could also file suit against the company. I’ve seen similar things
happen during my career.”

“But I just
know
that it’s
her!” I said, feeling my entire body shudder with anger. “She’s bullying me so
I’ll drop out. Just like her husband did when we were kids.”

Felicia Gold’s eyes went wide.
“What did you say?”

“Yeah!” Emma blurted. “Why didn’t
you tell me that?”

I gave her a quick grin. “I just
found out a few minutes ago from my husband,” I explained. “Robert has a friend
who works as a private investigator. That’s how I learned that the blonde at
our house was driving a car registered to Kimberly Woodworth.”

“Okay, you already told me that,”
Emma said. “But why didn’t you tell me that you know Amanda’s husband?”

Between the look on her face and
the edge in her voice, I felt my heart beat quicken again. “I was going to tell
you,” I said. “Robert called when I was in my room picking out what I was going
to wear tonight.”

Emma winced slightly. “Okay,
whatever,” she said. “I guess that’s not really relevant. But the fact that
Amanda is married to the guy
is
important.”

I nodded. “Very important,” I said.
“And, to tell you the truth, Robert had to repeat the news three times before I
actually understood what he was saying.”

“Who is he?” demanded Emma.

“Reed Dalton,” I said. “After they
got married, Amanda kept her maiden name. And I haven’t seen him or thought
about him in years.”

“I vaguely remember you talking
about him a long time ago,” Emma said. “But, anyway—back to what you were
telling us, Abs.”

I glanced at Felicia Gold. She was
listening carefully with a neutral expression on her face.

“Okay,” I continued. “Amanda is
married to Reed, and he used to bully me mercilessly with some other boys. They
were actually expelled for a week after one particularly vicious stunt that
involved anonymous posters in the hallways at school.”

Emma gasped. “Like the notes you’ve
received here this weekend?”

I nodded. “Kind of like that,” I
said. “Back then, I was shy and timid; other kids were always teasing me about
my weight and my glasses and my frizzy hair.”

“But look at you now, dear,”
Felicia said. “You’re absolutely stunning!”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ve worked
hard over the years.”

Emma patted my shoulder. “She
really has, Mrs. Gold. Abby’s done an amazing job of taking care of herself,
both inside and out.”

“Please, dear,” the Splendora
executive said as she smiled at Emma. “Call me Felicia.”

“Well, it’s true,” Emma went on.
“Abby’s my best friend. We’ve known each other since we were sixteen. And, to
be honest, in all those years, I’ve never,
ever
heard her tell one fib.”

Felicia raised an eyebrow. “Never,
ever?”

Emma shook her head. “Cross my
heart,” she offered with a smile. “She’s had her ups and downs like everybody
else, but she’s never stooped to the level that Amanda Woodworth has by making
these threats with her anonymous notes.”

For a few seconds, Felicia Gold
nodded her head. It was like she was sifting through everything we’d told her
about the notes written in Lyrically Luscious Lavender along with my suspicions
about Amanda. I’d never met the Splendora founder. But after hearing her speak
at all of the other annual conferences and reading her autobiography, I felt
like she was one of the most honorable women I’d ever come across. After
building her business from a one-woman shoestring operation run from a kitchen
table to an international empire worth billions of dollars, Felicia remained
down-to-earth and honest.

“Here’s how I interpret the
situation,” she said finally. “Abby, you truly are a remarkable woman. And you
embody the essence of Splendora with your independence, commitment and hard
work. As one of our finalists for Achiever of the Year, you’ve demonstrated
impeccable skill and exemplary care for your clients.”

I felt my cheeks go red. “Thank
you, Felicia. That’s really kind of you to say.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “Well,
it’s actually very
easy
to say, because it’s the truth.” She paused and
the grin on her face softened into a neutral expression. “And, as you know, the
truth is based on facts and tangible elements, not supposition and
speculation.”

“Meaning that my accusation against
Amanda isn’t true?”

Felicia frowned slightly. “That’s
not at all what I mean, dear. I simply believe that you will need more than
feelings and conjecture to prove that she is responsible for the unsettling
threats and unsubstantiated allegations about you and your husband.”

“More than feelings?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Felicia said. “We
can’t arbitrarily accuse her of doing these things without proof.”

As she continued explaining what
she meant, an idea flickered in my mind. I wasn’t a detective or crime scene
investigator, but I’d always loved shows that involved cracking difficult
criminal cases and identifying perpetrators through clever twists and tricks.
It seemed like my idea might work to unmask the person behind the threats. I
ran the scheme through my mind as Felicia continued sharing her thoughts about
the situation. When I realized that Emma was glaring at me, I blinked a few
times to dismiss the daydream and reconnect with the present moment.

“…do want you to know that I value
you as one of our top image consultants,” Felicia was saying as I shifted my
attention back to the conversation. “And I’m not sure what our next step will
be, but I can assure you that I want everyone in the Splendora family to treat
one another with courtesy and compassion.”

“I know what it should be,” I said.

Felicia smiled. “What was that,
Abby?”

“Our next step. While we’ve been
talking, I got an idea. It’s something that may help me prove my claim that
Amanda Woodworth is making up these lies and sending the anonymous notes.”

After Emma asked me to explain,
Felicia glanced at her phone.

“I do apologize to you both,” she
said. “But I have a conference call with our European leadership team in
fifteen minutes. What would you say if we met again tomorrow afternoon?”

“That will be too late!” I protested.
“You’re presenting Achiever of the Year during the banquet tonight. I want this
resolved before you make the announcement.”

She stood up and smoothed her
skirt. “That’s a good point, but I don’t see—”

“Trust me,” I suddenly told her.

A curious grin came up on her face.
“Trust you?” she said. “With what, dear?”

“With my idea,” I said. “It’s
really pretty simple.”

“You know what?” Felicia said,
turning toward the door. “I
do
trust you, Abby. And even though you and
I haven’t met before, I’ve heard nothing but glowing reports about you from our
Midwest team leads. Your sales performance continues to grow each year. Your
willingness to share your knowledge with new consultants is well-known. And
your attitude here this afternoon is more than impressive. There’s a confidence
about you, dear. A very, very notable confidence.”

I blushed and glanced away. “Thank
you,” I said, fixing my eyes on her once again. “I really appreciate those kind
words.”

I walked with her to the door and
watched until she’d disappeared into the elevator. Then I turned back to Emma
and giggled.

“What do you have up your sleeve?”
she asked.

“I think it’ll work,” I said. “But
I need to call Trevor Cole first.”

“Well, great!” Emma smiled. “When
do I get to hear your top secret plan?”

“I’ll tell you everything while we
wait for Trevor,” I said, walking toward the mini-bar. “In the meantime, how
about something cool to drink?”

“I’d kill for a margarita,” Emma
sighed. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea if we’re going to the banquet in
a couple of hours.”

I opened the little refrigerator
and plucked one of the bottles of coconut water from inside. “How about this?”
I held the selection up so Emma could see the label. “Or we also have a bunch
of soft drinks, orange juice or some kind of mocha coffee thing.”

“Coconut water is great,” she said.
“Now, hurry up! I’m dying to hear what you’ve got in mind for catching the
freak that’s been sending the threats.”

Chapter 22

Two hours later, Emma stood beside
me in the hallway outside our suite as I opened the tube of Lyrically Luscious
Lavender.

“Do you really think this is going
to work?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder nervously at the empty
corridor.

“Yes,” I said. “If the person
responsible for the threats is serious about getting me to withdraw, I really
think this will do the trick.”

A door opened at the far end of the
hallway.

“Someone’s coming!” Emma hissed.
“Put that away!”

I quickly put the cap on the tube
of lipstick and hid it in my hand.

“Pretend you’re checking your
makeup,” she suggested.

“Great idea,” I said, winking at
her. “I was already one step ahead of you.”

As I gazed at my reflection and
pretended to examine my mascara, a man and woman walked toward us. They were
busy talking and didn’t even seem to realize that Emma and I were standing near
the console table and mirror. As they passed us, the man glanced over and
smiled before resuming the animated conversation with his companion.

“Wait until they’re gone,” Emma
said quietly.

I nodded. “Gotcha!” I whispered.
“Thanks for being my accomplice on this, Em. I don’t know what I’d do without
you.”

After the elevator arrived and the
couple stepped inside, I removed the cap from the lipstick and quickly went to
work. My hand was steady as I wrote a message of my own on the gilt-framed
mirror:

I will withdraw from Achiever
Award. My letter of decline will be taped to hotel spa entrance at
9PM
.

A.E
.

“Do you really think this is going
to work?”

“It’s my best shot,” I said,
putting the lipstick in my purse. “When I got the first note by the pool on
Thursday, I was confused. The second and third notes on the mirror in my room and
down in the spa made me frightened. But now, after thinking about how
ridiculous this is, I’m mad. And I’m also determined to stay the course.”

“That’s the spirit!” Emma cheered
and pumped her fist in the air. “Stay strong! Fight evil! Show the skunk behind
the threats that truth and justice will—”

“Are you about done?” I
interrupted.

She blushed. “I was just trying to
make you smile, Abs.”

“Mission accomplished!” I flashed a
wide grin and took her arm. “Now, let’s go downstairs to the banquet hall. The
reception should be starting just about now.”

As we turned toward the elevator,
another door opened in the opposite direction. I looked back and saw Bree
leaving our suite.

“Hey!” she called. “Wait for me!”

“Hurry up, slowpoke!” Emma replied.
“If we don’t get down there soon, all of the canapés will be gone.”

Bree headed toward us at a fast
clip. Her hair bounced and her legs scissored beneath her sleek black pencil
skirt. As she approached the console table, she noticed the lipstick lettering
on the mirror and stopped to read the message. Even though Emma and I were
about twenty feet away, I noticed the expression on her face suddenly shift.
Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowed and her hands clamped into tight fists.

“Did you guys see
this
?” She
pointed at the mirror before resuming her walk down the corridor.

“Yep,” I said. “I wrote it.”

Bree put one hand over her mouth. “Did
you
really
?” Her voice crackled with jittery surprise. “Are you seriously
going to withdraw from the Achiever contest?”

“I think it’s the right thing to
do,” I said, punching the elevator button. “I mean, whoever is sending the
threats seems determined to scare me off. And I don’t want to risk anything
really bad happening.”

The elevator arrived and the doors
opened with a muted ping.

“C’mon!” I said cheerfully,
stepping into the elevator. “I don’t know about you guys, but I could really
use a glass of chardonnay about now!”

While we descended toward the
lobby, I kept one eye on Bree. She seemed anxious and there was a little twitch
in her eye, a barely perceptible tremor that I’d seen a few times before when
she was caught telling a white lie. When the elevator doors opened again, we
were swept into a throng of laughing, chattering hotel guests and Splendora
conference attendees. It was a busy Saturday night, and the air fizzed with
excitement and anticipation. Some people were headed for the casino to try
their luck at the tables. Others were moving toward the main entrance so they
could walk down the Strip for an evening of fun in one of the other hotels.

“Our banquet room is this way,”
Emma said, tightening her grip on my wrist. “If we get separated, it’s in the
Venice Ballroom, okay?”

A pair of burly men wearing
sharkskin suits and too much cologne bumped into us.

“Watch where you’re going,” one of
them rasped.

Emma squeezed my arm. “And they say
chivalry is dead?” she whispered.

“Not all men are slobs,” I said.
“Just a few here and there.”

Bree latched onto my other arm with
one hand. “Wait up! I don’t want to get lost in this freak show!”

“Hold on tight, sister,” Emma said
over her shoulder. “I’m going to make a beeline for the staircase that goes
down to the ballrooms.”

It took ten minutes to wade through
the crowded lobby, but we eventually made our way out of the swarm. Bree kept
her hand tightly looped around my wrist as we followed Emma down the steps. The
lower level corridor wasn’t as crowded as the lobby, so we were able to stroll
easily toward the large Splendora banner at the far end.

“I’m just going to duck in here,”
Bree said as we approached a ladies’ room. “I’ll catch up.”

“If you don’t see us in the
hallway,” Emma offered, “we’ll save you a seat inside.”

With a tentative smile, Bree walked
toward the passageway leading to the restroom. As I followed Emma toward the
Splendora reception table, I noticed Amanda Woodworth in the distance. She was
talking to a small group of women that I recognized from the afternoon seminar.

“Let’s go around that little
cluster,” I whispered to Emma. “I don’t want to see—”

But it was too late. Amanda had
spotted us. She was waving her lacquered nails and moving in our direction.

“Hi, Abby!” she gushed. “I was
hoping that I’d see you before the banquet.”

I replied with a tight smile, but
didn’t say a word.

“How are you?” Emma asked. “Did you
have some fun this afternoon out shopping or lounging by the pool?”

Amanda smirked. “My skin’s too
delicate for the sun,” she said. “And I’m not one to splurge on overpriced
tourist junk.”

Emma laughed. “Aren’t you smart?”
she said in a clipped tone. “Like the Mother Teresa of Splendora.”

Amanda sighed loudly. “I wanted to
wish you luck tonight,” she said, leaning close enough that I could smell her
fragrance. It was the same perfume I’d detected in my changing room at the spa
earlier when I found the last threatening message. “Being named Achiever of the
Year is such a tremendous honor!”

I forced my lips into a modest
smile. “Thank you so much, but I’m going to withdraw from the list of
nominees.”

Her eyes flickered with delight.
“Oh, you are?” Her voice was brittle and sharp. “Why would you do that?”

I shrugged off her question. “Well,
it was good seeing you, Amanda. But Emma and I are parched. We’ve got to find
the bar so we can get something to drink.”

As Amanda’s mouth fell open and her
eyes bulged, I grabbed Emma’s hand and pulled her away.

“That was classic!” she giggled. “I’d
love to know what she’s going to tell her coven of witches now.”

I looked back as Amanda rejoined
her group of friends. They all leaned in to hear what she had to say about our
brief interaction. When one of the women glanced in our direction, I gave her a
little wave.

“Who cares what they’re saying? In
an hour or so, this will all be over and Amanda Woodworth will be mortified
that everyone knows she’s been playing dirty to try and get Achiever of the
Year.”