Lipstick On A Pig

Chapter 9

Ten minutes late, I rushed into Betty’s Café. Jason was sitting at one of the corner tables that he’d somehow nabbed. The place was packed with tourists; the display cases holding various pies, cakes and other sweet treats had already been practically emptied, and it wasn’t even two in the afternoon yet. The low hum of a variety of voices passed over the room. Jason seemed oblivious to all the excitement and happiness around him; he had his little moleskin notebook that he always carried with him out, and was going over what he’d written. I slipped into the chair across from him and smiled at him as he looked up. Sometimes, when I caught my first glimpse of him and he smiled at me, I was struck by just how good looking he was. I was a pretty lucky woman. I wasn’t bad looking myself, but boy was Jason ever the head-turning type.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, winking at me. A small blush crept up my face.

“Hey,” I replied back.

“I ordered you a vanilla latte.”

“Ah, the true way to a girl’s heart,” I replied with a smile, just as Betty came by with the coffees.

“I heard you’ve had a couple interesting days,” Betty told me as she put a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, and another in front of Jason. She also put a plate of her now-famous chocolate pecan cheesecake on the table in front of us with two spoons. “On the house, it’s the last slice,” she told us with a wink. “I’d love to chat but I’m being run off my feet here,” she told us. We both thanked Betty profusely as she ran off to deal with a family that had what had to be at least seven children, and Jason looked at me carefully.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“Believe it or not, I think I’m actually getting used to finding bodies around here. I’m starting to think it’s me that’s the problem.”

Jason laughed. “Maybe that’s what it is; you’re a serial killer and you’ve been pinning all these crimes on other people. I was just too smart for you, that’s why you pinned the first murder on that developer in the end.”

I rolled my eyes. “Please. You’re already hot as hell, you don’t get to also have brains, that’s just not fair.”

“Oh, so you’re just dating me for my rock-hard abs?” he joked.

“Absolutely,” I deadpanned, grabbing a fork and taking a bite of the cheesecake, even though I was still totally stuffed from lunch. It was like heaven. “So how’s the reporting business going? You’ve probably got enough to write three weeks’ worth of newspapers based on the last couple days alone.”

“Tell me about it. Obviously the murder gets the front page. Especially since I managed to get some photos, and even a video, of that lady deciding to lay into you because there weren’t any calves there. And then, of course, your cat attacking her.”

“Bee didn’t attack her,” I said. “She just jumped up on her and peed on her. And to be fair, the lady had just insulted her.”

Jason grinned. “That’s true. In fact, it’s strange how Bee picked just the right moment to… surprise the woman. That’s some remarkable timing.”

“Bee’s pretty talented that way,” I replied. “I swear, she has this magical ability to know when you’re talking about her. I think it’s a cat thing.”

I felt a pang of guilt lying to Jason like that, but I also knew the rules: unless I married him, he was absolutely, not ever supposed to know about my magical powers. Those were the rules of the witch life.

“I’ve never had a cat,” Jason replied. “But all the memes I’ve ever seen on Facebook certainly back up that theory. Cats are weird.”

I grinned. “Cats are weird. They’re also a lot of fun. Are you more of a dog person?”

Jason shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. We never had any pets growing up.”

“Pets are awesome. They’re like small, affectionate children that never grow up,” I replied.

“Of course you’d love all animals, being a vet.”

“It’s true, I do.” Whenever I walked along the sidewalk in the spring and saw caterpillars making their way along the sidewalk, I’d always pick them up with a leaf and take them back to the grass.

“So you’re trying to solve this new murder, too?”

“I so didn’t say that,” I replied.

“Yeah, but I know you. You’re obviously trying to solve it. And your sister and Sophie too. I swear, you guys are the least subtle fake Sherlock Holmes crew that I’ve ever met.”

“Please. We’re a fake Nancy Drew crew, thank you very much. But if you must know, Charlotte has a mutual friend with Jessica—we were just trying to figure out what kind of person she was.”

“And who might have had the motive to kill her,” Jason finished.

“Maybe,” I replied, grinning at him, and he smiled.

“Well, I bet you you’re doing exactly the same thing!”

“What? Of course not. I’m leaving that to the police.”

“That’s so not true. You’re way too much of a journalist for that. You’re totally investigating Jessica Oliver and finding out whatever you can about her, even if you’re not openly trying to find a murderer.”

“Fine,” he grinned. “I admit it; I’m looking into her life.”

“So here’s an idea,” I said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Why don’t we team up? Try and find out all we can together. After all, I’ve already got some pretty juicy information.”

“Who says I don’t have the same information?” Jason asked.

“I have my methods, which I doubt you have,” I replied confidently. To be totally honest, though, I wouldn’t have been surprised if Jason already had figured out the same stuff as us. He was legitimately a very good investigative reporter. Honestly, he was probably too good for Willow Bay, where last week the second biggest story—behind the upcoming festival—was the news that Antonia deLucca had reportedly seen a cougar in the forest behind the town.

And speak of the devil, at that very moment, the woman herself walked through the door. She was old; a retired schoolteacher in her seventies who now had nothing to do with her life except start rumors and gossip about things. I wasn’t her biggest fan in town, as many of her rumors were cruel. As soon as she saw that Jason and I were here in the café, she made a beeline toward us.

“Angela Martin and Jason Black. Is it true what my eyes see? Are the two of you a couple?”

“We are, Antonia,” Jason said, smiling politely at her.

“Well isn’t that just scandalous!”

“How is it a scandal?” I asked. “It’s not the 1800s anymore; we can date whoever we want, whenever we want nowadays.”

Antonia smiled. “Yes, of course dear. I’m well aware of the moral corruption of today’s youth. I was more surprised to see the town’s local esteemed journalist in the company of a woman who was attacked yesterday, and whose attacker was found dead this morning.”

“Ah,” I said, understanding. “So you’re implying that I had something to do with the murder now. Again.”

Antonia looked shocked. “Why of course I would never do something like that! I simply find it interesting that so soon after you had a confrontation with the woman, she shows up dead.”

“Do you?” Jason asked, grabbing a pen. “Would you be willing to put those words on the record, and have them published in next week’s paper? Because as you can imagine I’m doing a number of articles on the fair, and on the murder, and it certainly would liven it up if I had your exact words essentially accusing Angela here of murder on the record.”

Antonia’s face fell at Jason’s words. “No, no, of course not,” she said. “I’m simply an old lady, what do my words matter? All the same, I must be going,” she said, turning and making her way past the throngs of tourists and out the door.

Jason shook his head. “That woman, I swear.”

I grinned. “Don’t worry. No one really ever takes anything she says seriously. I’m sure she’s been going around town all morning accusing me of being the murderer.”

“Still, that kind of thing can be damaging,” he said.

“It can be, but Antonia’s never been that bad. Remember Andrea Dottory? I don’t really think you knew her; she was murdered right around when you actually moved here for good. She was super vindictive with her rumors. She actually drove a few people out of town.”

“Maybe. Call it the journalist in me, but I don’t like people spreading lies about, no matter how little they’re taken seriously. Especially when the rumors are about you.”

I smiled. “My knight in shining armour.”

“At your service, m’lady,” Jason laughed, grabbing the other fork and helping himself to a spoonful of cheesecake. “So, you want to know what I’ve found out about Jessica Oliver.”

“I do.”

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, taking another bite of cheesecake, “I have done a little bit of research. I’ve found out that she wasn’t doing very well in her law school classes, but then no one’s ever been murdered because they had bad grades.”

“Yeah, we know that as well.”

“Did you know she was sleeping with one of her professors?”

I choked on the sip of coffee I was drinking. Super sexy, Angela. Good work. My coughing fit went on for about fifteen seconds, and when I finally came back up for air, Jason was gently laughing at me.

“I guess that’s a no, then,” he said.

“I definitely did not know that. Did you know she was also sleeping with her boss?”

This time it was Jason’s turn to look surprised, but he was decidedly more graceful about it. No coughing fit from him, his eyebrows just rose a little bit.

“Was she really? I knew she was working as an intern at a law firm, but hadn’t gotten to the details yet.”

I nodded. “Forrester, Forrester and Cork. Let’s just say that Smith was giving her some… extra experience,” I clarified.

“Do you have proof?” Jason asked, and I shook my head. “No, just info from a friend of hers. And some other people at the office. It’s probably not good enough to publish in a paper, but as far as we’re concerned it’s good enough.”

Jason nodded. “Interesting.”

“Which professor was she having an affair with?”

“Ethics,” Jason said with a grin.

“No way!” I replied, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yup. Turns out she’s not the first one, either. Though he hasn’t been her professor for a semester or so, so he’s not sleeping with a current student. But all the same…”

“That’s insane. So the ethics teacher was sleeping with a student, who was also sleeping with a married lawyer she worked for. This has love triangle written all over it.”

“Definitely. I have proof of the affair between her and the professor, too.”

“How did you even get all that information so quickly?” I asked. Jason was pretty good at this whole “digging up information” thing. He grinned.

“I’ve got my secrets. Plus, it’s still just Portland. Trust me, when you’ve worked as an investigative journalist in New York, even Portland seems full of naïve, small town people willing to give away any information. I swear, it’s like shooting fish in a barrel.”

“We’re not that naïve,” I said, feeling the need to defend the nearest big city. “Portland is a real city. It’s like, the twenty-fifth biggest in the country, or something like that.”

“Twenty-sixth,” Jason corrected. “I looked it up.”

“Yeah, well, it might not be New York, but at least the people here are nice,” I replied, and Jason laughed.

“You’re being pretty protective for someone who’s not even from there,” Jason replied. “I like small towns. I like it here, and I like Portland. In part because the whole area isn’t full of jaded people who refuse to talk to you unless they know you really well.”

I smiled at Jason. He was such a nice person, I had trouble picturing him being a deceitful to get information.

“All right, so now you know what we know. Why don’t you come back over to our place, and we can continue this chat with Sophie and Charlotte?”

Twenty minutes later we’d finished off the coffee and cheesecake, thanked Betty once again, and headed back home. It was actually the first time Jason had been to my place. I’d always imagined his first visit to my place would have involved way more bedroom antics and way less talking about murder. But alas, it wasn’t to be. There was plenty of time for future visits to the bedroom though.

As soon as we walked in and made our way to the living room, Sprinkles ran in.

“Someone new! Pet me! Pet me! Say hello to me!” he exclaimed, running circles around Jason’s legs, who laughed, and reached down and scratched him behind the ears.

“Ahhhh yeah, that’s the spot,” Sprinkles murmured happily. I motioned for Jason to sit down on the couch while Charlotte looked up from the medical textbooks she was reading and Sophie came in from the kitchen, looking at me inquiringly.

“Jason’s been looking into Jessica Oliver as well,” I said in explanation. “I was thinking we could, you know, join forces and combine our knowledge.”

“Good idea,” Charlotte said. “Jason seems like he has a good head on his shoulders, and we all know I’m incapable of keeping you and Sophie in line. Hopefully he’ll be better at it.”

Bee was sitting on the bookshelf, watching everything silently.

“Angela brought a boy home! Ohhh, he’s meeting the family. He’s quite good looking, as well. Too good looking for you, really.”

I glared at my cat, who deftly jumped off the bookshelf and onto the floor, and made her way over. She purred contentedly as she rubbed herself against Jason’s legs, who smiled and reached down hesitantly to pet her.

“Hey, kitty,” he said. “Don’t worry, I think cats are cool. Please don’t pee on me.”

Sophie giggled into her hands as I looked on, horrified. I tried to telepathically tell Bee that if she tried anything—anything at all—to ruin this for me, she was never getting another piece of sushi for as long as she lived. I’d never been so tense. Most girls are scared when their boyfriends meet their parents for the first time. I was terrified of my boyfriend meeting my cat.

Bee purred contentedly. “That’s right, cats are cool,” she murmured, before jumping up on the couch next to Jason and rolling onto her back.

“You want Jason to rub your belly?” I asked in a sing-song voice. “You’d better be nice to him, or else,” I sang, my eyes like steel as they bored into Bee’s relaxed face.

“Don’t worry, I already like him more than I like you,” Bee replied, and I relaxed slightly as Jason scratched her stomach lightly and she purred contentedly. It seemed Bee actually did like Jason. Thank goodness for small mercies.

I caught Sophie and Charlotte up on what Jason and I had discussed at Betty’s.

“Wow,” Sophie whistled when I was done. “The most incredible thing about this to me is that there were not just one, but two men willing to sleep with that woman.”

Charlotte scowled at her. “What?” Sophie asked. “She was a terrible person.”

“You think that about everyone,” Charlotte replied.

“I have to side with Sophie on this one. Who throws a full-on temper tantrum because they didn’t get to see the specific farm animal they wanted, and then ask for their twenty-five cent donation back?” I said.

Charlotte shrugged. “She can’t have been all bad, is all I’m saying. After all, I met with someone who actually liked her yesterday.”

“So where do we go from here?” Jason asked. “We have two people who slept with her. One of them was an unmarried professor who’d had affairs with former students before, the other is a prominent, married lawyer. I think I know which one is more likely to have a motive for murder.”

I nodded. “Definitely the lawyer. But still, I think we should look at both.”

“Ok,” Jason said. “Why don’t I start looking into the professor then? Since I was the one who found out about him, so my contacts are closer, and yours are closer to the boss. We’ll see if we can scrounge up anything else about them that might lead us in the right direction, and if we find anything that points more toward one than the other, we’ll move our focus there.”

“I like it,” Charlotte said, nodding. “The logic is sound.”

“Wow,” I said to Jason. “You need to come here more often. Getting to this point would have involved at least half an hour of arguing if it was just the three of us.”

“Well, it would have obviously been way worse an idea if it came from you,” Sophie said, sticking her tongue out at me, and I rolled my eyes.

This was good. We had a plan now. We were definitely going to find the murderer.