Unfashionably Dead

Chapter Six

Lanie flicks on the light to the apartment. To my right, the kitchen is pristine. Pots hang from the ceiling over the island, and everything appears to be in its place, save for two wine glasses sitting beside the sink. Both glasses have smudges of pink lipstick around the rim.

Grant points to the glasses.

"Cheline and I had a drink before we left for the club." She walks over to the sink and grabs the glasses by the stem.

"Please don't touch them. I may need to dust them for fingerprints."

Lanie sighs as she sets the glasses down onto the Corian counter. Her shoulders sink, and she begins to cry again. Adam wraps his arm around her.

"Whose coat is that?"

The black Burberry trench coat hangs over the back of a stool, its hem nearly touching the floor's gray ceramic tiles. The notched collar, epaulettes on the shoulders, and the metal rings below the belt stand out to me. They're the reason I bought the coat. Shame I only wore it three times since I bought it last season.

"It's Cheline's. I talked her into leaving it here so she wouldn't worry about it being stolen at the club."

Grant walks over to the window and winces as he sees the hole left by my body. I wonder if this is his typical reaction to a possible crime scene or if it's my death that has him troubled. He turns around and goes into the hallway, stopping in front of the bathroom door. "Do you normally leave a light on?"

"No, I can't stand wasting electricity. Gotta do my part when it comes to the environment." She had ingrained this into me the first time I walked out of the dorm room with a light still on in our freshman year at Indiana University.

"Is there a chance Ms. Morgan could have left it on?"

"Only if she were removed by force." Lanie squishes up her face like she's in deep thought. "I guess she might leave it on if the doorbell rang or something like that, but probably not then, either."

I pop into the bathroom to look around.

Streaks of water trail down the bottom four inches of the mirror. The sink is wet and the hand towel is dry. A bottle of perfume with white roses encircled around its neck sits askew in the open medicine cabinet.

It's been months since I last saw the fancy bottle Adam bought for Lanie shortly after they got engaged. I inhale a deep breath and can smell its light floral scent. I wouldn't put it past Margaret to spray the perfume. She could bathe in Guerlain, but it still wouldn't rid her of the eau de harlot she wears so well.

"Someone's been in here," Lanie says as she peers into the bathroom.

"Are you positive?" Grant asks.

She nods her response. "I've been keeping this bottle in the linen closet. Haven't used it since the summer."

She opens the linen closet. Her less frequently used fragrances are situated on the top shelf. Two bottles of lotion lay on their sides, their angel wings seemingly ready to take flight.

"Is it possible Ms. Morgan messed up your bathroom to get under your skin?" Or that she threatened to key your car after you broke up with her on prom night? I can almost hear him wondering it, kind of like I did so long ago.

Threaten, I might. Actually committing a crime is a whole other ballgame, and not one I'm interested in playing. I don't look good in orange. And horizontal black and white stripes just aren't my thing.

"I doubt it. She wouldn't use the perfume, purely because it was a gift from Adam. Help me pour it down the toilet? Well, she'd do that in a heartbeat."

"I'll trust your opinion." He leaves for the bedroom.

Navy, turquoise, and yellow pillows cover the top half of the mattress, while the bottom third is covered with a matching quilt. Atop the entertainment center, a white poinsettia sits next to a vase of pink roses.

Adam makes a beeline for the flowers. He removes the card from the envelope. It reads: Hope you're day is as beautiful as you are. – Wes.

I cringe at the grammatical error.

His eyes narrowed, Adam tucks the card into the envelope and replaces it into the plastic holder. He seems to deliberate saying something to Lanie but opts to keep quiet.

"Does this room look like it's been touched?" Grant asks.

"It's how I left it," Lanie replies.

"Okay. We'll be running forensics on this apartment and it's going to take a few hours." He looks at his watch. "This time on a Friday night, realistically we might not get to it until sometime tomorrow. Do you have somewhere you can stay until we call you?"

"You can stay with me," Adam says. His eyes are still on the flowers and he seems deep in thought.

Perhaps he's a tad jealous? What's good for the goose is definitely good for the gander when it comes to Adam.

Lanie accepts his invitation then asks Grant if she may pack an overnight bag. With his approval, she packs some frumpy pajamas, a change of clothes, and her toiletries into a small suitcase.

We all walk to the living room. Lanie lets out a shiver and returns to her room for a jacket.

Grant zeroes in on the mahogany desk. On the bottom portion of the computer screen are pink sticky notes reminding Lanie to pick up her boss's dry cleaning, find a recipe for potatoes au gratin (or better yet, someone to make them) for Christmas Eve at her mother's house, and a few other odds and ends to work on this weekend. An uncapped fountain pen is to the left of her keyboard.

"You don't keep track of your schedule with your smart phone?" Grant asks when Lanie returns.

"Only appointments and meetings. If I'm sitting here, it's more convenient to just write it out. What can I say? I'm too lazy to transfer the information." She stares at the desk, her eyebrows furrowing and lips pressing together as confusion sets in. "One of my notes is missing. I had a couple of calls while Cheline was here with me and left them on this pad of paper since I ran out of sticky notes. The ad agency called and said I would need to line up another model for the shoot on Monday morning because the scheduled model had to fly to Oregon for a funeral. We-, a friend called. And there was a weird call from the pesticide company saying an exterminator would be coming tomorrow. I'm sure they were just here last week, or was that two weeks ago?"

Adam bends down and pulls a piece of paper from under the couch. "Here, baby, is this what you're looking for?" He hands it to Lanie.

Grant by her side, they scan the paper, Lanie's face whitening with each word. Grant lets out a sigh and closes his eyes before reading through it again.

Curious, I fly above them to peek at the writing.

Lanie,

I'm truly sorry and hate leaving on such bad terms, but I can't bear to watch Adam tear your heart out again. There comes a point when enough is enough. He's trouble and this time he'll drag you down with him. Call me when you need someone to pick up the pieces. 

Cheline

"Can you explain this letter?" His tone is serious as he looks from Lanie to Adam.