Death of a Sales Rep by Jamie Lee Scott

Author:Jamie Lee Scott [Scott, Jamie Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Mystery
Amazon: B009YOQSDG
Goodreads: 16155404
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2012-10-26T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Charles and I left the booth and a seething Anthony watched us go. I looked back several times as we walked away, for fear of a voodoo doll with my likeness being strangled. Instead, Anthony was tidying up.

“This whole thing has his stomach in knots,” Charles explained. “The stress of the show was bad enough, but finding that voodoo doll under Marina’s dead body really spooked him.”

“Why? It’s not like the doll can prove anything.”

Charles put his arm around my shoulders. “How long have we known each other?”

I just looked at him.

“Then I shouldn’t have to explain Anthony’s reaction to you.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Now, let me look at that list.”

I gave him the list. “I just have to get a directory to find their booths.”

Charles reached in his back pocket and pulled out a rolled up program. “Ask, and you shall receive.”

We sat on a bench near the bank of elevators. Charles read off the names, and I gave him the booth numbers. Looking closer, I noticed, in very small print, that Anthony had given the reason why each particular person hated Marina. Very nice.

Charles placed stars next to three names. “I think you should start with these people first.”

I pointed to the first name. “Holy shit, a hundred thousand dollars?”

“She’s an evil, greedy bitch, isn’t she? And that doesn’t even include the court and attorney’s fees. Poor guy.” Charles shook his head.

“Greed is one of the seven deadly sins.”

“I’ve got to get back to the booth before Anthony’s head explodes.” Charles stood. “And remember, not another word about this in his presence.”

Anthony made me promise not to talk about the investigation, or my snooping in front of him. That was his one condition in helping me.

I stayed seated, studying the venue map. “Not a word.”

I headed to Becky’s booth first. I was curious to see if any of the gift show knowledge she’d learned while working for Marina had paid off.

Becky’s company had a double booth that looked more like a small boutique than a gift show salesroom. Each of her lines was clearly delineated from the others by a different paint color on the wall. Looking closer, it wasn’t paint, but a sheet of wallpaper. She’d hung it from a rod high on the temporary wall, and picked a color that complimented the artists’ works.

She represented at least three clothing lines, a boot company, several jewelry designs, a handbag line and some sort of eclectic kitchen accessories company. All of the lines were tastefully represented.

Becky looked up as I approached. Grinning, she said, “Scanning the competition for Anthony?”

“No, I’m just being nosy. I’m a private detective, so I have a hard time turning it off.” I picked up what I thought might be a potholder, but it could have been a penis warmer, the way it was shaped.

“Nosy about the gift show industry, or something more sinister?” She took the object from me and fiddled with it.

I liked her looks. She was artsy, yet professional looking.

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