Patrice Lyle - Health Nut 01 - Killer Kung Pao (13 page)

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

"You okay, thar, doc?"

"Fine." I fiddled with my diamond earring, trying to appear casual. "Just anticipating what Mystic Ming's going to say."

"Hopefully he'll tell us something we can use."

My heart smiled. A girl could really get used to this
we
stuff.

"I wonder if I'll hear back," I said, feeling comfortable with Tattoo Tex's proximity and wanting to get closer. "Because last time he didn't answer me."

This time, however, Mystic Ming was on top of it. A ding alerted me to the new text, and I turned the phone so we could read simultaneously.

Mystic Ming can't say anything. Already got in trouble for telling you about Norman's check. Spirit Guide say Mystic Ming cannot influence outcome of justice in your sphere. Stupid rule. But if I say more, I could be stuck here forever. You figure out who kill me.

I read the message a second time. "Interesting." Then I sent Aunt Alfa a quick text telling her about the upcoming séance and placed my cell phone on the nightstand.

Tattoo Tex eyed me from the top of my blonde highlights down to my manicured toes. "Looks like Detective Piper's his only hope."

The intensity in Tattoo Tex's eyes made me feel shy. I glanced down at my feet and distracted myself with my glossy hot pink toenails. I hadn't had time for a manicure before coming to Florida, but thank goodness I'd had a cute pedicure. The rhinestones on each of my toes glittered beneath the light.

Tattoo Tex must have noticed because he elbowed me in the side while pointing at my feet. "Those are pretty, just like you. How'd you get so glittery and gorgeous?"

My breath caught in my throat. Had I finally met a man who would be interested in my conversion into a dark-chocolate-filled, natural health lifestyle? If so, he was
the one
. The past several years with Floyd had left me feeling trite and ridiculous about the high school story that had put me on the path of my life's work.

I took a brave step. "Do you really want to know?"

He brushed a lock of my highlighted hair behind my shoulder. "I want to know everything about you, doc."

There, under the garish light in Mystic Ming's tacky Manatee Inn room, I prepared to share my soul with the Jock Cowboy.

Pizza-Faced Little Orphan Annie Has Left the Building

I glanced at the door, wondering if it was risky to stay in Mystic Ming's room too much longer. But I was feeling braver than ever, so I decided to expose a piece of my heart to Tattoo Tex. "I've always been caught between my family because my dad's a physician, and Aunt Alfa's a holistic healer. Aunt Alfa came to live with us after my mother abandoned my dad and me by moving to Europe when I was fourteen."

His eyebrows vaulted. "Sorry to hear about your mom."

"Thanks. It was a hard time." One I was happy to put behind me.

"I can only imagine." He looked sad for a moment, and then he said, "Your dad's a regular doctor? Like an MD?"

"Try the chief of cardiology at a hospital in New York City."

He must have computed the implications because questions that had plagued me shone in his eyes. "Does he support your career in natural medicine?"

"That's the triple-fudge question of the millennium." I wasn't ready to delve into my father's thoughts about holistic health, however. My heart was far easier to share.

"Is Aunt Alfa your maternal or paternal aunt?"

I flashed him a smile, once again thankful to have her in my life. She'd guided me through some tough times, such as coping with my mother's unexpected departure. And the complicated conversation I'd had with my father when I'd informed him the only kind of medical school I was interested in was naturopathic.

The memory of that moment still sent me running for dark chocolate.

"Aunt Alfa's on my mom's side. Not my dad's." He'd sooner give up his prestigious title than be related to an aromatherapist.

"Do you get along with your dad?"

"As long as we don't talk about medicine. Either my version or his." I examined the cuticle on my thumb. Definitely time for a manicure. "Let's just say my dad doesn't agree with what I do. Nor did he ever agree with Aunt Alfa's practices," I said, adding air quotes. "And Aunt Alfa certainly didn't agree with his belief in traditional medicine. They have a difficult time getting along, and it was hard on me because they both wanted me to see things their way." I glanced at him, wondering if I was boring him with my family drama.

But he eyed me appreciatively and nodded for me to keep going.
Aw.

"I had a serious acne problem during freshman year in high school. At the time, my hair was finger-in-a-light-socket frizzy, and I was living off milk chocolate. It was all I wanted to eat." I smiled when I realized not much had changed. Only now I was hooked on dark chocolate.

He grinned. "You're not kidding about being a chocolate addict."

"Nope." His cuteness made my heart open even more. "One day in honors biology class, this mean rich kid called me a
pizza-faced, little Orphan Annie,
and everyone heard him. All the kids laughed at me, and I just lost it. I ran crying out of the lab."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Sounds awful."

I flinched. It was still a painful story. "I skipped the rest of my classes and came home from school a wreck. I ran to my room, dug out a bag of milk chocolate peanuts from my dresser drawer, and started scarfing them." The images raced through my mind at warp speed. "I cried for hours, while staring at myself the mirror, until my dad and aunt got home. I was scared I'd get in trouble for skipping school, but they were sympathetic when I told them the story. That's when Aunt Alfa said my skin problem could be due to a dairy allergy, and that I should switch to a dairy-free dark chocolate."

"Did stopping the milk chocolate work?"

"Amazingly well. Milk chocolate was the only dairy I ate so when I changed to the dark version, my skin cleared up. I've been addicted ever since." Funny how tragedy could morph into triumph. "Aunt Alfa talked about finding the cause of my skin problem, instead of continuing with medications from the doctor that weren't working. Dad was thrilled when my self-confidence soared after my skin cleared. He urged me to be myself and follow my heart."

Of course, he didn't think that would lead to naturopathic medical school.

Tattoo Tex gave me a tender smile. "Is that how you got interested in being a natural doctor?"

"That experience changed my life," I said as tears stung my eyes.
How embarrassing.

But he didn't seem to mind. He handed me a tissue from a box on the nightstand and stared at me. "Your skin looks beautiful. Like it's always been perfect."

His surprise was a normal reaction to my story.

"You should have seen how bad it was," I said. "The only reason my skin isn't scarred is because I used Sparkle O's sensitive skin serum. It contains frankincense, which does wonders for the skin."

"Sounds like you went through an amazing transformation."

"I did, and that's why I'm so passionate about changing the image of health nuts. One small change, going from milk chocolate to dark chocolate, cleared up my skin and changed my life."

"You're on a real mission, doc."

"I've never looked back. Aunt Alfa gave me an incredible gift that day. After my skin healed, I started wearing sparkly makeup and getting blonde highlights because I felt confident enough to stand out. I didn't have to hide in the shadows eating milk chocolate anymore."

He gave me a heart-filled smile. "Self-expression's a powerful thing."

I glanced at the tattoos adorning his sculpted arms and realized how dumb I'd been to despise tattoos. He was only expressing himself the way I was with highlights and make up. I looked at the handsome angles of his face, and our gazes locked. My pulse raced as his eyes glistened with longing. I hoped my eyes reflected the same because this was the most intimate moment I'd ever experienced with a man.

And there weren't even any six-hundred-count cotton sheets involved.

We stared at each other, and our spirits wordlessly intertwined. Tattoo Tex understood me on a deep level. A soul level. And he appreciated who I was and all the sparkliness that went with it. I could barely breathe when he leaned closer and tilted my chin.

His lips danced across mine, and my heart strobed into a dazzle-fest.

Tattoo Tex had ignited an inferno inside me. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

He slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. His hard chest pressed against me, and I thought I'd died and gone to decadent-dark-chocolate-heaven. Our kiss intensified, and I wrapped my arms around him, letting him engulf me. His body heat merged with mine, and he traced his fingers down my arm, sending shivers of desire through every cell of my body.

Holy dark chocolate mousse. I've been seriously missing out in the sexual chemistry department.

We reveled in the delight of holding each other until my cell phone dinged and vibrated violently on the particleboard nightstand. I ignored it, but the darn thing dinged again.

Tattoo Tex edged his face away from mine. "Think you should get that?"

"If you promise we can resume what we're doing."

"Don't worry." He gave me a smile that brightened his eyes. "There's a lot more where this came from."

Oh, wow. I could only imagine what he meant, and hopefully it would be my reality soon.

I picked up the phone, read the message, and laughed. I showed it to Tattoo Tex. It said,
Tacky to make out in murder victim's room.

The second message said,
I mean it.

And the third message said,
Stop frenching in Mystic Ming's room.

Tattoo Tex looked mortified. "I guess he has a point. My grandma would probably tell me it was wrong."

I tossed a hand. "Aunt Alfa wouldn't care." She'd egg me on.

He smoothed my hair and kissed my forehead, his warm lips lingering for several seconds. But the moment was gone. Stupid Mystic Ming.

He broke our embrace and pointed at the red numbers blaring on the alarm clock. "It's almost séance time. Think we should go?"

I was shocked. "Time flies when you're having fun."

A smile crept across his face. "That was the most fun I've had a while, and I hope we do it again. Real soon."

Good enough for me.

He moved in for one more soulful kiss, and my body melted against his. When my cell phone buzzed again, thank goodness he didn't stop.

Instead he whispered into my ear, "Someone needs to shut off that dead psychic's cell service."

I laughed. "I couldn't agree more." I snuggled against him, content to stay there indefinitely until my nose tickled. I wriggled it back and forth, hoping to avoid a sneeze. But no such luck.
Aacchoo.

I pulled back. "Sorry."
How unsexy was that?

"No worries." He grabbed another tissue and gave it to me. "Here you go, doc."

I dabbed my nose and sneezed again. Must be that blasted patchouli. This time Tattoo Tex handed me the box of tissues. I reached for another tissue, and my fingers brushed against something stiff in the box. I peered in and saw a small piece of paper. I retrieved it.

Holy cocoa beans!
It was a check decorated with tiny pizzas and Norman's signature.

"Two hundred dollars?" I said. "What kind of psychic accepts money for a fake reading?"

"A psychic with fake hair and an even faker accent." Tattoo Tex's deadpan expression cracked me up.

I elbowed him. "You noticed too?"

He laughed. "Hard not to notice a tough Jersey accent coming from a little dude with pink hair pretending to be from China and doing a bad job of it."

"You're mighty observant."

He eyed me up and down. "You got that right, ma'am."

I blushed and peered at the date on the check. "Norman postdated it for Monday, which explains why Mystic Ming hadn't cashed it. Now I have proof that Norman bribed him into a fake psychic reading."

"We have to show the detective."

"Absolutely." No way could Fifi deny the significance of this or the weird voodoo doll.

Tattoo Tex handed me the check, and I noticed a smudge in the corner. Oh, no. Had we mishandled the evidence? I retrieved my PI flashcards from my purse and flipped through to one that detailed evidence collection.

Take great care not to taint or alter the evidence in any way. Always secure any evidence collected while wearing gloves.

"Oh, for the love of chocolate schnitzel."

"What's wrong?" Tattoo Tex peered at the flashcard.

"We weren't supposed to touch the evidence." I angled the card toward him.

He crooked his head toward the door. "I've probably got some work gloves in my truck."

"Thanks, but I think it's too late now." I only hoped Fifi wouldn't discount our discovery over a few fingerprints.

I slipped the check, flashcards, and my cell phone into my purse alongside the voodoo doll (that we'd also touched). Then I hung Mystic Ming's purple jacket back in the closet. We walked out of the deceased's room, arm in arm, with the unspoken knowledge that we were going somewhere—aside from a séance, that was—together.

Tattoo Tex pulled open the door to the stairwell. "Think you should look at those last texts?"

My eyebrows catapulted. Aunt Alfa. I'd finally emerged from my Tattoo Tex haze long enough to remember having texted her about Babette's séance. "Could be my auntie."

I grabbed my phone and read the message.

You know I hate séances, Pipe, so count me out. Besides, Merv and me are going to the all night Dolphin Jump Putt Putt.

How could Mervyn
putt-putt
on a walker? I pounded out a quick text asking just that.

Tattoo Tex read the correspondence over my shoulder, and his cologne made my heart flutter.
Sexy
.

"I don't reckon he could swing a golf club in his condition."

"Me neither."

Aunt Alfa fired back,
No worries, hon. It's all in his head. I've given him oils for mental fatigue. His stability is already getting better. Give Brownie a kiss. XOXO.

Tattoo Tex rubbed his chin. "Natural medicine really works, doesn't it, doc?"

I beamed. "Absolutely. The mind's often a bigger challenge to heal than any physical condition." However, it worried me that Mervyn hadn't signed a release for Aunt Alfa's holistic health services. I hoped the poor guy wouldn't encounter any difficulty on the miniature golf course.

And I prayed Aunt Alfa would keep herself out of any further legal trouble.