Karen Olson - Pretty In Ink

The guard looked behind me. “No one running but you.”

I peered past the fountain to the marble columns. I didn’t see Rusty Abbott. Maybe he’d lost interest. I could only hope. I looked back to the guard and nodded. “Okay, fine. I just have to get to the Grand Canal Shoppes.”

He pointed to my left, and the escalators were there, ready to take me to my shop. I thanked him and power walked toward them, sneaking looks behind me as I went.

Still no sign of Abbott.

At the top of the escalators, I was in the Great Hall. Talk about over the top. More ceiling paintings, more elaborate theme park-like illusions of actually being in Venice. Without the stench of the canal, of course. I’d been in Venice once, in July, and I thought I’d landed in the middle of a sewage plant. I got over it, or probably just got used to it, as I wandered the streets and bridges.

I was doing the same thing here, skipping past the restaurants and shops. It was like being in Oz, but instead of a yellow brick road, there was a minicanal with gondolas filled with tourists.

As I walked, I pondered what it was Lester Fine thought I had. Did he know I’d been to Trevor’s apartment? Did he know about the money? Did he think I took it?

I shook the thoughts away. How would Lester Fine know about Trevor’s money? No, it had to be something else. The queen-of-hearts pin, maybe? Rusty Abbott had the makeup case, so he most likely knew now that the pin had been removed. Could he think I’d taken it?

I was circling the runway but had nowhere to land.

The Painted Lady was at the opposite end of the canal, squeezed in between Barneys New York and Jack’s Gallery. Across the waterway was a Godiva chocolate place. I needed a little chocolate right about now, so I crossed over one of the footbridges and found myself pointing out various truffles that the kind girl put into a box for me. Armed with sugar, I scooted around the end of the canal and the line of people waiting their turn for a gondola ride and pushed open the door to my shop.

I took a deep breath as the door slowly closed behind me. Bitsy was sitting at the front desk and looked up at me expectantly. I handed her the box of chocolates.

Her grin was immediate.

“Godiva!” she exclaimed.

Joel’s head poked out of his door. “Did you bring Godiva?” he asked.

I nodded.

Bitsy had already opened the box and was popping a truffle in her mouth, mmm ing as she savored it. Joel came out of his room a few seconds later and bounced over to the desk, grabbing the box.

“Do you have a client?” I asked.

His mouth was already full of truffle. He nodded. “Needed a break anyway,” he said as chocolate smeared across his teeth.

I grabbed one because I knew they could be gone in seconds, and when the chocolate hit my tongue, I sighed again.

“You should get poisoned more often,” Joel said, taking three truffles back to his room with him.

Bitsy cocked her head toward his back. “He’s off Weight Watchers. Said he gained five pounds and can’t afford any more.”

“Too bad,” I said.

“Yeah.”

We both knew he’d join up again in about three or four months.

I had my back to the door, and when it opened, I jumped a little, but it wasn’t Rusty Abbott. It was my client.

I was feeling almost normal again as I inked the pinup girl on Herbie Nelson’s upper arm. She had unnaturally large breasts with the nipples peeking out of a low-cut shirt and legs that any showgirl would die for. Herbie wanted her to be a blonde, so she had a huge bouffant of yellow curls cascading over her shoulders. When Herbie flexed his biceps, the breasts got even larger. He loved it.

I wasn’t so sure. This was old school, the kind of ink Jeff Coleman would do. I didn’t do many like this-usually left it to Joel, who was better at it than me. But Herbie was a regular. I’d already inked him five times, and he’d fallen in love with the Japanese geisha that I’d done just a few months back on his other arm. Granted, he’d wanted a more scantily clad geisha, so the kimono was short and open in the front. Herbie liked sexy women on his person. I hated to say it, but it might be the closest he would ever get. Who was I to turn him away? Plus, he paid top dollar, and considering the economy, we needed as much money as we could get in the till at the end of the day.

The gloves were feeling a little clammy, and my hand started to cramp about an hour into Herbie’s ink. I lifted my foot off the pedal and the machine stopped. I looked at Herbie’s face, and he had tears running down his cheeks. Herbie always cried. I was used to it now.

“A break?” I asked, pulling off my gloves before he could answer.

Herbie nodded, and I handed him a box of tissues so he could clean himself up before round two.

I stepped out of the room. Bitsy was still at the front desk, going over the appointment book. She looked up when I came out. I walked over to her and noticed that the box of truffles was empty. I raised my eyebrows at her, and she chuckled.

“Joel enjoyed them.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s got half an hour between clients. I think he’s out getting something else to eat.”

Figured. It was lunchtime. I hoped he’d bring something back for me and Bitsy.

“Oh, by the way,” Bitsy added, giving me a sly smile I couldn’t read. “A few minutes ago someone came in and made an appointment. He’s going to be back in a couple hours to go over what he wants with you.”

I nodded. “Okay.” I leaned over her shoulder and looked at the appointment book.

When I saw the name she’d penciled in, I froze.

Colin Bixby.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Bitsy said. “I thought you’d be happy about this, Dr. Sexy coming in for a tattoo. You might be able to see a part of his body that you’ve just thought about seeing. And he looks even sexier without that lab coat on. He’s got a nice tight butt in those designer jeans.” Her eyebrows bounced up and down as she grinned.

I chuckled nervously. “It’s just, well, I found out he’s already got a tattoo, but he told me in the hospital that he didn’t have one, that he was afraid of needles.”

Bitsy looked at me like I had three heads, but before I could explain, the door opened and Joel came in, carrying take-out bags from Johnny Rockets.

I prefer In-N-Out Burger, but Johnny Rockets would do in a pinch.

“Lunch has arrived,” Joel announced.

I glanced back at my room. I had to get back to Herbie, but my stomach was growling. I reached in one of the bags and grabbed a burger, peeled back the paper, and took a couple of bites. I indicated my room. “Gotta get back,” I said, talking with my mouth full. Sister Mary Eucharista would have made me write “I will not talk with my mouth full” on the blackboard fifty times for that.

I took another couple of bites, wadded up the paper, and put it in the trashcan under the desk. “Thanks,” I said to Joel before heading back to Herbie.

My head was distracted with thoughts of Colin Bixby as I finished the pinup girl, and he still hadn’t arrived by the time Herbie and I emerged from the room. Herbie paid Bitsy, and we sent him on his way. I looked nervously out the glass doors at the canal and to the right and the left, but there was no sign of Bixby.

“You’re acting like a girl on prom night,” Joel commented as he came up behind me, startling me.

I slapped his arm playfully. “Don’t do that,” I said. “It’s just that I’m not exactly sure what this guy is up to.” I told them about the queen-of-hearts tattoo Bixby had had done at Murder Ink a year ago, when he was dressed in drag with Wesley Lambert and Rusty Abbott. “So he lied to me, and I don’t think he’ll be all that into me, either, since he’s obviously gay, like I thought initially.”