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Murder at the Wizard-Hero Con Page 7


  “A little. I could smell your perfume on the pillow, so it was hard to drift off at first. But I did get a little rest. Now, you mind telling me why you’re here disturbing my beauty sleep?”

  “I saw the bearded man. You have to come back with me.”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Georgie, but it’s the bearded lady people pay to see. Paying to see the bearded man, well, that’s just a scam.”

  “I’m being serious,” she huffed. “Yesterday at the vendors’ mixer, he was in there skulking around and security had to throw him out. He was yelling things at Cole Ness.”

  “The guy you said snuck back in?” Stan yawned.

  “Yeah. It was him. I’m sure of it.” Georgie let out a deep breath.

  Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and yawned again. Then he rubbed his neck and let out a sigh.

  “Oh, you poor thing. You’re exhausted.” Georgie rubbed his shoulder affectionately. But the words Maggie had said made her stop. “How about I get the shower running and then make you a cup of coffee? They gave us a complimentary coffee pot, but it just makes coffee by the cup.” Georgie shrugged as she got up and headed toward the bathroom.

  “That sounds great. You know, if you’d care to join me in there, you can.”

  “Very funny. Come on, Detective. The killer could be right across the street.” Georgie got the hot water running in the shower and then came out of the bathroom and started to get the coffee brewing.

  “Why are you being so . . . so . . . wifely?”

  “What?” Georgie whirled around and looked at Stan like he’d just announced he’d be wearing dresses from now on. “Old habits are hard to break. When was the last time we were in a hotel room together?”

  “My gosh, that had to be at least twenty, maybe twenty-five, years ago. We made that short trip to Indianapolis. Just a little getaway.”

  “I remember,” Georgie said with a smile. “Stan, when this case is over, I want to have a nice long talk. Just me and you.”

  “Okay. What about?”

  “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.”

  “Georgie, did something happen?” Georgie looked at Stan’s worried face, and she knew what he was thinking.

  “Stan, no. I’m fine. I’m not sick. At my last doctor’s appointment, the test results all came back clear. So, get that worried look off your face,” Georgie said quickly to reassure him.

  “You’re sure?” He didn’t believe her. Georgie remembered when she had told him she had breast cancer. That was five years ago. It had gone into remission and hadn’t made an appearance now in all that time. Georgie never felt better. Even if it had come back, even if she had to do all the therapy and radiation again, she was not going to stop living her life. She wasn’t going to live in fear of what might happen. And this just made the confrontation with Maggie all the more ludicrous. She knew nothing about Georgie. She certainly didn’t know that Georgie Kaye had looked death in the face more than once and said, “Not today.”

  “Yes, Stan. I’m sure.”

  “You’d tell me if there was a problem or a concern, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course I would, Stan.” Georgie walked over and put her hand against his cheek. “You need a shave. You can use my lady’s razor in there.”

  “That sounds like changing the subject.”

  “Stan, your detective skills might work on the rest of the guilty out there, but I’m innocent. You are barking up the wrong tree. There is no problem, no health issue, no worries.” Georgie smiled, but Stan didn’t smile back. Georgie knew he was worried she was keeping back something from him about her health. “Can’t a woman want to talk to her ex-husband about the future without him getting all suspicious?”

  “The future?” Stan said raising both eyebrows. “Could it be I have finally worn you down?”

  “Don’t go getting your hopes up,” she chuckled.

  “Why you little vixen, I knew you’d get tired of playing hard to get.”

  “I’m not playing, and the only thing I’m tired of is your leering.” Georgie headed toward the door.

  “Okay. You’re sure you don’t want to join me? Maybe just to cool off,” he teased, arching his right eyebrow.

  “I’m not hot.”

  “You are from where I’m sitting.” He reached around and gave Georgie’s backside a pinch, making her yelp and slap his arm.

  “I’m meet you in the lobby,” she called as she grabbed a stack of business cards from her suitcase just as Stan stepped into the bathroom. Just as she shut the door to the room, Georgie noticed a shadow like someone ducking out of sight. Slowly, she crept down the hallway. Her footsteps were almost inaudible against the thick carpet that was a pretty royal-blue color with gold and orange swirls throughout. The walls were white and lit by small, soft lights every couple of feet. It was the sound of the elevator ping that made Georgie hurry in the direction of the elevator bank.

  Just as she rounded the corner, she was positive she saw Maggie hustling into the elevator and dodging into the corner, her back partially turned as she frantically pressed the buttons. Before Georgie could say anything, the doors slid shut.

  “What in the world?” Georgie shook her head and slowly approached the elevator call button, pressing the down arrow. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she contemplated the fact that Maggie knew what room she was staying in. She felt the irrational fear that Maggie was going to jump out at her from underneath the decorative desk in the hallway or appear from around the corner. It was irrational. It was completely impossible. But the woman had just been here in the hotel, a place she didn’t belong, and she had tailed Georgie like a common criminal.

  When the second elevator pinged, Georgie jumped. The doors slid open to reveal a couple dressed like some kind of characters, but who were obviously going to the convention. Letting out the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, Georgie felt all her muscles relax as she smiled and stepped inside. There was safety in numbers.

  When the doors opened in the lobby, Georgie was ready just in case Maggie was there. With her hands up defensively, she stood still as she quickly scanned the people in the lobby. The couple, not paying much attention to Georgie, scooted past her.

  Letting her breath out in a sigh, Georgie didn’t see Maggie anywhere. There was a manager standing near the check-in counter who looked up as Georgie approached.

  “Excuse me.” The man smiled pleasantly at her interruption. “I’m supposed to meet a friend here, but I don’t know if I’m even at the right hotel. Can you tell me if there is a Maggie Hoffentop staying here?”

  “Of course. Just let me check.” He pushed aside one of his associates from their workstation and quickly typed in the name Georgie had given.

  “I don’t see a listing for anyone by that name.”

  Again, Georgie let out a deep breath. “Thank goodness.”

  “Is there another name she might be staying under?” the manager asked innocently. But his words echoed in Georgie’s mind. What if she was staying under an alias? What if she was secretly hiding out, watching Georgie come and go waiting for the right opportunity to catch her alone? The thought made her shiver.

  “No.” She shook her head and thanked the manager for his help. She found a single chair against the wall and quickly took a seat. She knew Stan was a great guy, but this was starting to get a bit creepy. Sure, she was close to him, but they had a history. Why wouldn’t a woman understand that? And if Stan was one of those weird men who obsessed about his ex-wife while on dates with other women, that wasn’t Georgie’s fault.

  “Georgie, you watch too many true-crime shows. Stan is a police detective. Maggie works for the police. She’s not crazy. You can’t even be sure it was her in the elevator,” she muttered out aloud to herself. A man sitting on a similar chair just a few feet from Georgie was watching her. “I’m not even sure it was her. Except for the fact I know it was her,” she said loudly, to which the man shrugged.

&nbs
p; Finally, Stan appeared stepping off the elevator. He looked better with his hair clean and his eyes bright and wide. He hadn’t shaved, though.

  “Didn’t want to risk the Lady Schick on that handsome face?” Georgie asked, wondering if she should mention seeing Maggie skulking around the elevator bank.

  “I know you like it like this.” He rubbed his chin, smiling seductively.

  “You are too much. Now I’m sure that this dude has probably bludgeoned six or seven more people now because it took you so long to get glamorous,” Georgie teased. “But we might be able to find him if we are persistent.”

  “That’s the spirit, Georgie. Nothing like a little passive-aggressive motivation to get the job done,” Stan said holding the door open for her.

  On the way to the convention center, Georgie gave Stan as clear and precise a description as she could, telling him what he was wearing and the best she could remember of his facial features.

  “You are sure it was a real beard and not a disguise?” he asked as he wrote everything down in his little notebook.

  “Yeah. It was a real beard.” Georgie put her new sunglasses on, causing Stan to stare at here. “What?”

  “Those are interesting.” Stan quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “Aren’t they wonderful? The man I bought them from made these himself. I thought they were great,” Georgie said. “Isn’t it amazing what people can do? Creativity blossoms wherever it is cultivated.”

  “That’s really beautiful, Georgie.”

  “Beauty and brains, that’s me,” she said, tapping her temple.

  Once inside the event, Georgie left Stan to find Aleta. First, she checked the food court, but she wasn’t there. So, she headed over to the booth Phil was operating.

  “Hi, Phil.” She smiled and waved. “Have you seen Aleta around?”

  “Hi, Georgie,” he replied. “She said she was going to the Serpentius booth. She said you had painted that image.”

  Georgie nodded modestly.

  “It’s amazing. It’s what half the vendors have been talking about,” Phil said before a group of kids came up to his booth looking for a couple of specialty comic books.

  “Thanks, Phil. I’ll let you get to work. I’ll find her.” Georgie turned and started walking toward Beau’s booth. Aleta was chatting with Neesee when she walked up.

  “Hi. Sorry I took so long.”

  “Yeah. Stan was there? Sleeping?” Aleta pursed her lips.

  “Yes, I had to wake him up,” Georgie snapped. “If you aren’t too busy focusing on things in the gutter, maybe I could talk to you for a second.”

  “Look at her blush,” Aleta said nudging Neesee. “Stan is her ex-husband.”

  “Oh?” Neesee raised her eyebrows.

  “My sister likes to tell stories. It’s a symptom of her Jumping Frenchman Disorder. When she gets startled, she rambles on about nonsensical things without even truly being aware of what she was saying,” Georgie said sadly nodding her head.

  Neesee laughed as Georgie handed her a fresh stack of business cards and then took her sister by the hand and merged into the crowd.

  “You won’t believe this,” Georgie said, holding Aleta’s hand tightly.

  “Oh, no. Did you and Stan . . . ?” Aleta made a certain gesture with her fingers making Georgie gasp.

  “You are disgusting.”

  “What, disgusting? You had three kids. I know it wasn’t because there was a star in the sky . . . three times,” Aleta said and giggled.

  “Can you pull yourself together for just a minute while I talk to you?” Georgie hissed. “This is important.”

  Before Aleta could say anything else, Georgie relayed her encounter with Maggie. By the time she was finished, her hands were shaking, and Aleta’s eyes were wide with worry.

  “Are you kidding? I can’t believe it.” She swallowed hard and looked around just in case Maggie was sneaking up on them from behind them. “Tell me you told Stan.”

  “I couldn’t. He looked exhausted. To pile all that kind of drama on him when he’s trying to solve a murder just seems selfish,” Georgie said. “And I saw the bearded man sneaking around here. In fact, I want to go see the Nuclear Wolf booth.”

  “How can you want to stick around with Maggie Hoffentop following you?” Aleta said. “She’s got issues. It’s not smart to tempt this kind of crazy. You’ve got to tell Stan.”

  “She’s not going to do anything to Stan. Come on. Let’s go to the Nuclear Wolf booth,” Georgie said.

  “How can you concentrate on that?”

  “Isn’t it crazy? Murder is a more relaxing topic to focus on than Maggie Hoffentop.” Georgie took a deep breath, and they headed off into the bustling crowd of conventioneers.

  Chapter 9

  As they neared the Nuclear Wolf booth, Georgie saw Tabitha having a heated discussion with Dell, Cole Ness’s assistant. “Go inch your way over there and eavesdrop on what they are saying,” she instructed Aleta.

  “What? Why me?”

  “Because they know what I look like. I talked to Tabitha this morning and Dell yesterday. They’ll think you are just lost because you are wearing L.L. Bean instead of a costume. Go on.” Georgie nudged her.

  “What am I going to say if they ask me what I’m doing?”

  “Just start sobbing,” Georgie said. “Wail, beat your chest, whatever you think would make you look like a grieving fan.”

  “That’s brilliant.” Aleta snickered as she slowly left Georgie’s side. “Watch your back.”

  Aleta was right. Georgie looked around nervously hoping not to see Maggie again. But as luck would have it, as soon as she looked to her left, she saw the bearded man. He was loitering around a display while nervously looking over to Dell and Tabitha. Did he know them? Was he waiting for a chance to talk to one of them? Both of them? Neither of them?

  Just to get out of view of Dell and Tabitha, Georgie casually approached the bearded man. His face was doughy, and his eyes skirted the Nuclear Wolf display nervously.

  “It’s such a shame, isn’t it?” Georgie interrupted his train of thought. He looked down at her and gave an awkward half-smile. “You were at the mixer last night. That was you, right?”

  The bearded man took a deep breath, swelling his chest and shifting from one foot to the other.

  “Yup. That was me,” he said proudly looking at Georgie as if he were expecting an argument.

  “Georgie Kaye,” Georgie said extending her hand.

  “Malcolm Heady,” he proudly replied like he was saying Ernest Hemmingway or D. H. Lawrence.

  “Malcolm, what did you mean when you said Cole was a thief?”

  “I don’t know what your definition of thief is. In my book, it is someone who steals something that belongs to another person,” he said quickly and eagerly. Georgie realized that this man was not afraid to talk.

  “Did he steal something from you?” she asked, trying to look sympathetic. Malcolm let out a snarky chuckle and rolled his eyes before taking a step closer to Georgie.

  “I was an intern with him. Actually, I was nothing more than the guy that he whined to about how hard the graphic novel business was. As if I didn’t know. Every once in a while, I got to see what he did in his studio. Usually he was playing video games on his phone, but sometimes he’d sketch doodles or concepts.”

  “How did he manage to see what you were creating?” Georgie asked.

  “Well, one day we were waiting for a phone call about a loan he’d taken out to keep his house.” Malcolm smirked again. “The guy didn’t know how to handle money. So, we were at his studio, and he was playing his video games on his phone while waiting. I just started to sketch the character I was kicking around in my head. And just so you know, he wasn’t named Nuclear Wolf. That sounds like a bad movie from the 1980s.”

  Georgie took note of Malcolm’s demeanor. He really thought a lot of himself, and Georgie didn’t think this attitude was all that different from Cole’s.

 
“My character was called Atomic Hound.” Malcolm sniffed and cleared his throat, rocking a little on his heels as he waited for Georgie to gasp with awe. She nodded.

  “You see, Cole had asked to see my work and if I had any panels put together, you know, a storyline for the Hound.” He looked over his shoulder at the Nuclear Wolf booth and rolled his eyes before continuing. “I thought he was doing what a guy would do when he had an intern. I thought he was going to help me. Show me the ropes and offer encouragement. Heck, maybe I even thought we’d work together on something. I never expected him to steal my idea.”

  “Have you considered hiring a lawyer?” Georgie tried to sound like she really thought Malcolm had a case.

  Malcolm snickered and tilted his head condescendingly. “He confiscated all my work.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not following. How did he manage that?”

  “Very sneakily. He came to my house. Can you imagine how excited I was to have that? To have this guy who was into the same stuff as me, who had a couple of minor successes under his belt, showing an interest in my work?” His face twisted in anger and pain. “I thought we were friends.”

  Malcolm stood there for a few minutes, his lips pulled down in an angry frown, stroking his beard as an obvious comforting mechanism. “Not a week after being at my house, he let me go as his intern.” Georgie watched him clench his teeth while the hand not stroking his beard opened and closed at his side.

  “Did he give you a reason?”

  “Not until I showed up for like the third time at his house pounding on his door and demanding answers. Of course, it was only a couple of minutes before the police arrived telling me I was going to be arrested for trespassing.”

  “My goodness,” Georgie gasped. “That had to be a terrible shock to you.”

  “Shock? That’s putting it lightly. The cops gave me thirty seconds to get off his property or else they’d Taser me and take me to the station and press charges.” He clicked his tongue. Sweat started to form on his forehead. His neck was getting red and blotchy. Georgie didn’t find it particularly hot in the convention center.