Ink Flamingos

Chapter 10

“You think,” I said.

“Nothing’s official until the autopsy results come in, but she had an allergic reaction to something,” Tim said. “So this is why you have to stay completely out of it now. You’re in the clear, but this Ainsley person who now happens to be a redhead who happens to be taking Dee Carmichael’s place in the band is definitely on my radar.”

Seemed he had a suspect and a clear motive all rolled up into one, thanks to yours truly. But instead of feeling happy that justice would be served, I felt a little deflated. I still wanted to confront Ainsley Wainwright about those pictures of me on her blog.

I said as much to Tim.

“Don’t worry, little sis. We’ll cover that, too.”

Like I said, all wrapped up.

It was so unsatisfying, though.

I had no way to reach Harry Desmond to let him know I wouldn’t be going with him tonight. I sent Joel home when Bitsy left, because his services wouldn’t be necessary after all. Ace had left earlier because he had a legitimate date. I tried calling Bixby back, but just got his voice mail. Guess I deserved that. I didn’t leave a message.

I was cleaning up my room, throwing ink pots and used needles away, when I heard the bell on the door. I hadn’t locked up, since we were technically still open, but when we didn’t have any late clients, we would close early on occasion.

I figured it must be Harry and braced myself to explain the situation as I went out to the front to meet him.

But it wasn’t Harry.

Jeff Coleman stood just inside the door, his hands in his pockets as he stared up at Ace’s most recent works of art. When he saw me approach, he grinned.

“Quiet around here, Kavanaugh.”

Jeff was an inch or so shorter than my own five-nine, with a salt-and-pepper buzz cut. A life lived hard showed in his face. He’d been in the Marines, served in the first Gulf War, and taken over his mother’s tattoo shop about ten years ago. He used to smoke like a chimney but gave it up recently. There were some allusions to drinking and drugs, but by all appearances, he wasn’t into all of that now. At least not that I’d seen.

“Let everyone go early,” I said. “I’m leaving shortly myself.” I glanced quickly out the glass door to see if Harry was around yet, but I didn’t see him.

“Expecting someone?” Jeff asked, coming toward me.

I shrugged. “I sort of have a date. But I have to cancel.”

“That’s harsh, Kavanaugh. Canceling when he shows up. Why don’t you just call him?”

“I can’t. I don’t have his number.”

He frowned, but to his credit didn’t say anything. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Maybe I want to check out the competition,” he said. “See how the other half lives.”

Jeff liked to try to get under my skin about how I had a more upscale shop, where we did only custom tattoos, as compared to his street shop where he only did flash, the stock tattoos that lined the walls of his shop. I hate to admit it, but it usually worked.

Not tonight, though. I was too distracted by Harry’s impending arrival.

“Really, Jeff, why are you here?”

“Maybe I’m a little worried about you. You know, those pictures on that blog. I got the sense that it shook you up a bit.” He noticed I was looking outside again. “Are you expecting the doc?”

He meant Colin Bixby. I shook my head. “No.”

A wide smile spread across his face. “You have a new boyfriend?”

I made a face at him.

“A new girlfriend?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me why you’re here.”

The smile disappeared. “I was worried about you, like I said. I don’t like the idea of pictures of you showing up on that blog, that someone’s saying you’re to blame for that girl’s death.”

I studied his face, looking for any sign of a joke, that he was teasing me. But he really seemed sincere. Stranger things have happened, I’m sure, but I couldn’t think of any right at the moment. “Tim’s on top of it,” I said. “In fact, I don’t even need to go out anymore-that’s what I have to tell Harry.”

“Harry?”

“Harry Desmond.”

Jeff’s expression was incredulous. “Harry Desmond? That’s who your date is?”

“What of it? You know him?”

He barked out a laugh. “You surprise me, Kavanaugh.”

I had no clue what he was talking about.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me Harry’s been hanging around here these days?”

I made a face. “He’s been here almost every day for the last month or so.”

“I wondered where he went.”

It began to dawn on me what Jeff was talking about. “He hung around Murder Ink, too?” I asked.

“He didn’t just hang around, Kavanaugh. He worked for me.”

Now this was something I hadn’t expected. “Worked for you? How?”

Jeff cocked his head to the side, studying me for a second. “How would you think? I own a tattoo shop. He worked for me. Do you think maybe he was one of my artists?” It came out way too sarcastically, but I didn’t call him on it. I was too shocked.

“He’s a tattooist? He told us he got laid off.”

“Well, that’s not exactly accurate. I fired his ass.” Jeff’s face grew dark, and I wondered what it was Harry had done. But I didn’t have to wonder too long. “He botched a tattoo. Pretty bad.”

My chest constricted.

“He hasn’t asked you for a job?” Jeff asked.

I shook my head.

“He probably knows you’d need some background on him, and I’d tell you what he did.”

“He told us he was a blackjack dealer.”

“As far as I know, he never worked a casino. I wouldn’t go out with him, if I were you,” Jeff said.

Despite my newfound misgivings about Harry, I didn’t like it that Jeff was deciding now whom I should date and whom I shouldn’t. I stood up a little straighter, so I was even taller than he was, and said, “I can date whomever I want.”

Jeff chuckled. “Okay, right, Kavanaugh. I forgot you’re all grown up and can take care of yourself.”

“That’s right.”

“Does he know about me?” Jeff asked.

The tone in his voice made it sound like there was something Harry should know, which of course there wasn’t. Jeff and I didn’t have that kind of a relationship. Granted, I wasn’t quite sure what kind of relationship we did have, but it hadn’t ever veered into any sort of romance.

He started to laugh. “You make it way too easy, Kavanaugh. You know what I mean, right?”

“He must know we’re friends,” I said. “He’s probably been here when you’ve called, or someone’s mentioned you. So yeah, he must know about you.” Although I couldn’t be sure. He spent most of his time talking to Bitsy, and sometimes I’d run across him with Ace at that oxygen bar. Until today, he hadn’t really spent too much time with me, but that was usually because when he was here, I was with clients.

“So there would be no reason why when he saw me in here talking to you that he’d take off, right?”