Kathryn Lilley - Makeovers Can Be Murder

I was hoping to get stopped for speeding. But of course, there′s never a cop around when you really want one.

I wasn′t sure that it was a good idea to show up at Trish′s house. I simply had an overwhelming sense that the recent events were coming to a crisis point, and I wanted to move my friends out of harm′s way.

When I arrived at Trish′s colonial house, the porch lights were blazing. Several cars were parked at the curb. I recognized Evelyn′s pink Mini Cooper.

When I rang the doorbell, Trish answered and gave me a surprised smile.

″I didn′t know you could make it tonight, Kate-come on in,″ she said. ″We′re just finishing up some board business, but you′re welcome to join us.″

Taking a deep breath, I followed Trish into the living room.

Monique, Celia, Evelyn, and several other women were sprawled out on Trish′s pasha pillows.

″Actually, I′m sorry to bust in like this, but I heard a report at the studio,″ I announced. ″There′s been a gas leak in the neighborhood. You should all move to another location,″ I said.

″ What ?″ Trish′s eyes went extraround. ″Oh, my gosh. Let me go find Chaz.″

″Uh, wait a second, Trish-″

As soon as Trish disappeared, I faced the other women.

″You guys-I want you to get out of this house. Right now. Quietly. Please. I don′t have time to explain, but I think Chaz was behind Jana′s carjacking. Stay together and don′t be by yourself tonight. There was someone else involved, and he′s really dangerous.″

Everyone made shocked-sounding murmurs, but they started moving.

Except for Evelyn. She remained on her pasha pillow, staring at me.

″Are you sure about this, Kate?″ she said.

″Yes, Kate,″ a male voice said. ″Are you sure?″

I spun around.

Chaz was standing behind me.

I backed off. As I moved, I reached into my purse and extracted the stun gun. Just in case I needed it.

″Kate?″ Trish appeared next to Chaz. She had a carry-on bag slung over her shoulder.

With a confused-looking expression on her face, she said, ″Aren′t we leaving? What about the gas leak?″

″Trish, there actually isn′t a gas leak,″ I said. ″I came here to tell you some bad news about what Chaz has been up to.″

Turning to Chaz, I said, ″Why don′t you tell your mother about Mad Dog and your server farm and your pot deals. Then we′ll talk about Jana′s carjacking.″

Trish glared at Chaz. ″Pot?″ she said. ″You have marijuana in your room?″

As Chaz rolled his eyes, I heard a banging sound. It was coming from French doors that opened off one side of the living room.

A moment later the doors gave way. A tall, heavily built African-American male stepped into the room. I recognized him instantly from the picture that I′d seen at Violet Hurley′s house.

It was Mad Dog.

He was holding an AK- 47 in his hands.

The moment I saw Mad Dog and the huge gun, everything downshifted into slow motion. I knew in my gut that he′d burst into Trish′s house to spray the room with bullets. He meant to kill everyone inside.

Seven feet. Optimal distance. The DVD instructions for the stun gun replayed through my head as if I were watching them. All I could do was see Mad Dog and his gun and calculate what I needed to do. The Taser in my hand. Seven feet away from the target.

I stepped toward Mad Dog… released the safety latch.

Bullets from Mad Dog′s semiautomatic gun began tearing into Trish′s walls. There were sounds of glass breaking. Evelyn screaming.

I aimed the red laser dots at the middle of Mad Dog′s chest. I remember he was wearing a white T-shirt that had a green can of beer on it.

For one split second, Mad Dog seemed to pause as he registered the zebra stripes on my stun gun. I thought I saw his lips curl.

That′s when I fired.

The probes went zinging into the beer can on Mad Dog′s T. He let out a grunt of pain, then doubled over and collapsed.

Mad Dog writhed around on the rug, like the dog that got French-fried at Pompeii.

I kicked away the AK-47. Then I picked it up, just to make sure that Chaz didn′t get any sudden bright ideas.

Miraculously, no one had been hit. Evelyn and Trish had pounced on Mad Dog. They were pounding him on the head. Chaz was crouched behind the settee. Coward.

I could see a flicker of blue lights. They were strobing in from somewhere outside. It was a rescue posse.

″So how did the cops know to come to that house last night?″

It was the next night. Medina was all ears as I recounted my encounter with Mad Dog at Trish′s house.

We were sitting next to each other on my couch with the television tuned to channel twelve, waiting to watch the first installment of my weight-loss series. After that we were planning to celebrate by going someplace incredibly fattening for dinner. Medina had just finished meeting Elfie for the first time. And I think the introduction had gone pretty well. Elfie had extended her paw to him, which in cat body language means you′re in.

″It was the homicide cops who showed up at the house,″ I said. ″Fish and I had both left messages about Chaz Putnam for them. They came over to question him, right at the moment that Mad Dog Carver decided to take care of his ′exposure′ on Jana′s murder and the robbery scheme by killing Chaz, and anyone else who happened to be there.″

″So this Mad Dog character and the Chaz kid were in cahoots?″

″Yes, but Chaz wasn′t counting on the murders. When that started, evidently he tried to get out, but Mad Dog wouldn′t let him. He shot Jana, and before that Anaïs Loring, the cops told me last night. And I′m sure we′ll find out that he was the one who tried to break into my place.″

″Wow. Your life is so exciting,″ Medina said. ″I just hope I can keep up. But what ever happened to Jana′s autopsy results? You told me that her heart valve had been stolen by someone. Have they found out who did it?″

″There′s your answer,″ I said, pointing at the television. Channel Twelve News was showing a technician being escorted into the county jail.

″The detectives had the wrong killer in Jana′s case, but at least they tracked down the sleaze bag who tried to sell her heart valve,″ I said. ″For a while, I even mistakenly thought you might have been involved with that.″

″Me?″

I told Medina that Fish had turned up a check made out to Sateesh Kumar, signed by Medina.

″There′s a Sateesh Kumar who is an international organ smuggler, but I realized it couldn′t be the same guy you wrote the check to,″ I said. ″Who is the Sateesh you wrote the check to, by the way?″

″My periodontist. He′s a heck of a nice guy, by the way. Does excellent root canals.″

″Sateesh Kumar is your periodontist? That′s too funny.″

Glancing at the TV again, I added, ″Oops, my weight-loss story is coming on now. I′m not sure I want to watch this.″

″Well, I do.″

The first installment of my fat-scam series flashed across the screen. I tensed for Medina′s reaction to the ″money shot″ of my torso in a bikini being shrink-wrapped by Yolanda the Russian. But then I remembered that he′d already seen me naked during the laser treatment and still was attracted to me. So there you had it.

Medina looked from the screen to me on the couch. ″I don′t know why you were so nervous about this story,″ he said. ″You look amazing.″