Laina Turner - Presley Thurman 03 - Handbags & Hooligans

  Handbags & Hooligans

  Presley went to Vegas to watch her friend Anna get married and the event turned into solving the mystery of her brothers girlfriend disappearance. But Ashley wasn’t exactly the school teacher she appeared to be. Who was she and was she kidnapped?

  Handbags

  &

  Hooligans

  Laina Turner

  Copyright 2011 Laina Turner

  Kindle edition

  Five Seas Ink Publishing

  Editing by iProofread and More.

  Cover art by 801Red

  Formatting by Anessa Books

  Prologue

  Where is it, bitch?” he snarled, dumping the contents out of her purse. She watched as her wallet, lipsticks, compact, and other toiletries fell to the ground. She hoped someone would notice she was gone and check out here for her before he realized he wasn’t going to find what he was looking for. When he figured that out, it was going to be trouble.

  “I told you, I don’t have it,” she said.

  “You’re lying.” He walked closer, and she backed up to the building.

  “He knows I just stepped out for a smoke. He’ll be coming to look for me if I’m not back in a few minutes.”

  “You’re lying, sweetness. I know you don’t smoke. I noticed that night we were all together you didn’t smoke or drink. Care to tell me why?”

  Damn, she never in a million years would have thought anyone at that party would notice. Shit! Who else had? She was running out of options. She had no doubt he would kill her if he thought she was of no use to him. “Don’t come any closer. I’m warning you.”

  “Ha! Like I have anything to fear from you.” He took another step.

  She reached behind her back hoping he wouldn’t notice. Luckily, he was too busy trying not to stare at her cleavage to pay attention to her arms. Guys. This time his being a slime ball was going to cost him his life. She put her fingers around the butt of the gun she had stuffed in the waistband of her shorts. She drew her arm out and said in her best Dirty Harry voice, “Go ahead, asshole, make my day!” A bit dramatic, she knew, but it was the fun part of why she went into this line of work to begin with.

  He started to laugh again but sobered up quickly when he realized she was holding a gun. He put his arm up to try knocking it out of his face, but her arm barely budged. She was stronger than she looked. His eyes widened in surprise.

  “Maybe you should rethink the being scared part, asshole,” she said.

  He recovered quickly and made another step toward her.

  “Don’t move one step closer. This is your last warning.”

  “Or what?” He took one more step.

  “Or this.” She pulled back the hammer and then the trigger. Clean shot right between the eyes. She was a good shot. She didn’t want this to happen, but he’d left her no choice. She quickly looked around; surely someone had heard that. She didn’t have the silencer on. She grabbed her purse—it was after all a Louis Vuitton—but left the contents, as it was all replaceable. The backdoor opened, and a hulking guy stood in the doorway looking at her and the dead guy bleeding out on the asphalt.

  “What the hell?” he said.

  “He left me no option. Besides, the world will be better off without him. You need to fix this. I have to get out of here.”

  “Do you have the goods?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. You know where to go. I’ll call you when it’s safe.”

  With one last look over her shoulder she turned the corner and vanished.

  Chapter 1

  Oh my God, would this day never end? I thought to myself, as I ducked into a Starbucks to get out of the rain. When I finally got to Tracy’s I was feeling a little better after my coffee but still looked like a drowned rat. A drowned rat with frizzy hair nonetheless, and there I was supposedly able to inspire other women to want to buy the cosmetic products to look as wonderful as I did. Fat chance. I would be lucky if they didn’t run screaming. My makeup was no doubt as big a mess as my hair. Almost afraid to look, I walked into Tracy’s building and noticed one positive thing: I was fifteen minutes early. How that happened I didn’t know, but wasn’t going to question it. It would be just enough time to try and make myself look at least somewhat presentable and to find out from Tracy just what I was supposed to do here.

  I almost regretted telling her I would try my hand at selling Mary Kay. I had no idea Tracy was so passionate about it, even bordering on the fanatic. As soon as I had invested and bought my starter kit, Tracy completely changed into this sort of Mary Kay Nazi. I had to give her credit, she knew her stuff, but she almost scared me with her talk of quotas and goals, and how everyone should be striving for that pink Cadillac. When I mentioned I would in no way be caught dead in a pink Cadillac, the look in her eyes almost made me fear for my life. I quickly tried to back talk my way out of it, but Tracy still seemed suspicious of my commitment level. Like I was an enemy or something. I had paid the three hundred dollars for the starter kit and supplies and was determined to sell enough to recoup my investment. How hard could that be? At the commission rate, I only needed to sell six hundred dollars worth of product. I had enough friends that I could sell that much, couldn’t I? Lucky for me, Tracy and I didn’t have a lot of mutual friends.

  Walking into Tracy’s apartment, I forced myself to have a positive attitude about this whole experience. I may have looked like a drowned rat, but my outfit, while damp, was a confidence–boosting light blue Donna Karen suit, an above–the–knee flared skirt, and a fitted jacket. I had on a black shell and black knee boots, as October in Chicago could get chilly. Tracy’s apartment was located in a decent area of Chicago, and the outside was okay but the inside of her place was something else. Not that it wasn’t nice, but none of Tracy’s friends had the heart to tell her country had gone out of fashion a while ago. Her apartment was decked out in country blues and peach with all the typical country accents, such as geese, and in the kitchen, chickens. It almost made me wonder how she was so good with fashion and makeup and very successful, when her home décor tastes ran way in the other direction of what was trendy. Maybe there were others out there this would appeal to, but every time I visited Tracy’s it made me wonder what she was thinking. It felt like my grandma’s circa 1980.

  “Hi Tracy,” I said, walking into her kitchen to find her busy with the last minute preparations for the soiree.

  “Hey there, Pres. I didn’t even hear you come in. Here, taste this bruschetta. I think it might need a little more garlic, but then, since I love garlic, it is sort of hard to tell.”

  I took a bite. “Umm….this is great, Tracy. I think it’s perfect. Any more garlic might be too much for those non–garlic lovers.”

  “Okay then, I’ll just put the trays out in the living room. If you want to come with me I will explain to you what the plan is for the night.”

  I followed her into the living room, comforted by the fact that even if the sales thing didn’t work for me, there was at least some good food.

  Walking into my condo, I kicked off my shoes and plopped down on my chocolate brown Pottery Barn couch, which I loved because it was the most comfortable thing I had ever sat on. Without even taking off my coat, I sighed.

  “Rough day, sugar?” said Jared, one of my best friends and now roommate.

  “Rough doesn’t even begin to describe it. Who would have thought catering to women and trying to make them look good would be so difficult?”

  “Really,” he said dryly. “Did you think you were the only high maintenance chick out there?”

 
“Listen, there is high maintenance and there is off the charts. These women were off the charts. I don’t see how Tracy deals with it full–time. The women who shop in Silk aren’t even as bad as these women were.”

  “You think you aren’t off the charts?”

  “We’re not talking about me,” I said crossly. “You’re supposed to be giving me some sympathy for what I’ve had to put up with today.” Jared was usually great for boosting my self–esteem and letting me vent. Typically, he agreed and supported everything I said, which was what made him such a great friend. We had been friends since I’d moved to Chicago and met him at a club. A club my girlfriend Anna and I had gone to not realizing it was a gay club. I made a fool of myself by approaching him, planning on chatting him up, when thankfully he stopped me and explained we were in a gay bar. He said it was obvious we had no clue. It was an interesting experience, and we met some wonderful people like Jared in the process.

  We quickly became good friends, and few months ago when his lease was up and they were going to raise his rent, I was also having some cash flow issues, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone and move in together. For the most part it had worked out beautifully. Jared had a good job as a graphic designer. Neither one of us had a serious boyfriend at the moment, though not from choice, and he was a blast to hang out with. Of medium height, he had jet–black hair and blue eyes. He had a slight build and the best fashion sense of any guy or girl, gay or straight, I knew. So I always used him as a fashion advisor when I went out.

  “When you get done feeling sorry for yourself at having to deal with the high maintenance women of Chicago, give Anna a call. She has called here looking for you at least ten times”.

  “Did she tell you what she wanted?”

  “No.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  “Of course I did, but she said she had to talk to you. Call her right now. I have to find out what is so important. I’ve been dying over here not knowing.”

  “Okay! Look, I’m dialing. See?” I said, exaggerating the process. While I was making fun of Jared, I was also really curious to know why Anna had tried calling. She’d been blowing up my cell, too; I just hadn’t looked at it since before the party.

  “It’s about time,” she yelled when she answered.

  “What’s going on? I was at Tracy’s, which I told you earlier.”

  “We’re going to Vegas.”

  “Yeah, for the bachelorette party. We’re planning it for October 13th.” My friend Anna had just decided to get married a couple months before, and since she and her fiancé had been together for a few years, neither of them wanted a long engagement. Thus she had been driving her mother and me—as the maid of honor—crazy with planning, even though we’d both told her that planning a wedding in a couple months was guaranteed to turn her into bridezilla.

  “No. For the wedding.”

  “What?” Surely I hadn’t heard her correctly.

  “For the wedding!”

  “Let me sit down,” I said. Jared was looking expectantly at me. “Anna, I’m putting you on speaker so Jared can hear this, too. He’s dying to know what’s going on.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Now let me get this straight. You want to go to Vegas and get married?”

  “Yes. We are both tired of this planning stuff, and it’s all snowballed into something crazy that neither of us wants”.

  “I guess I don’t understand. You said you wanted a big wedding.”

  “I did. I still kind of do, but it’s just not worth it.”

  “What about your mom? She’s put a lot of work into this.”

  “She actually suggested it. We got in an argument over flowers, and she said if I didn’t like her ideas maybe we should go get married in Vegas. So I said okay.”

  “Do you think she actually meant it, or was she just mad at you?”

  “She was just mad, but when I said okay she was shocked. We talked about it, and then she made some calls and was able to get all her deposits back but one. She’s giving us the deposit money for the Vegas trip. It will cover everything in Vegas—we already checked—so my mom and dad are saving a ton. Everyone is happy.”

  I found it odd that I wasn’t happy. I hadn’t wanted to plan the wedding this quickly and Anna had been getting on my nerves, so I should have been happy. Instead, I felt disappointed. I had been enjoying all the fuss. But I would also like Vegas, and my brother was there. Plus it was her day, not mine. “I’m all for it. When do we leave?”

  “Wednesday”

  “As in this Wednesday? Two days from now?”

  “Yep. As soon as we hang up I’m getting the plane tickets for all of us. You and Jared are coming for my side and Jeff’s’ two best friends are coming for his.

  “Yeah! Vegas here we come baby,” Jared shouted.

  I hung up with Anna after a few more minutes of discussing logistics and thought I should call my brother Jesse.

  My brother, who at twenty–six was a few years younger than I, was the typical baby of the family. Spoiled with no direction, he was always off on one thing or another, and while our parents were always on my case about what I was going to do with my life, they seemed to think it was okay for him to still be “finding” himself. He’d lasted briefly in college before trying a variety of jobs, such as a zip line instructor in Mexico and a river guide in the Grand Canyon. He was almost “discovered’ while acting in Los Angeles and was currently trying his hand as a blackjack dealer in Las Vegas. Looking at my faux Cartier watch, I mentally calculated the time difference and figured it was six in the evening Vegas time. He probably wasn’t at work yet, if he was still working the night shift. I hit speed dial on my phone and waited for him to pick up.

  “Hey, Sis. What’s up?”

  “I am coming out to Vegas Wednesday.”

  “Why? I mean that’s great, I’m thrilled, but just the other day you said you didn’t have the money to come.”

  “I don’t, but Anna has now decided to fly to Vegas to get married.” I filled him in on the whole story.

  “Cool! I will pick you guys up at the airport. I have a friend with an SUV that I think seats eight.”

  “Just don’t forget that Anna and I pack a lot of luggage.”

  “I won’t.” He laughed. “See you soon.”

  Chapter 2

  This is so exciting.”

  “What? Being at the airport at five in the morning, flying to Vegas, or just the fact you’re getting married?” I said to Anna.

  “I think all of the above.”

  “I’m not too wild about being up this early, but I can see why you’re excited, and as soon as I have more coffee, I will be, too.”

  “Your coffee, mi’lady,” Jared said, walking up to me.

  “Oh, Jared, you’re a life saver. A few swigs of this, and maybe I’ll be somewhat coherent.”

  “Where are Jeff and his friends?” Jared asked.

  “They went to Hudson News to get some snacks and magazines,” Anna replied.

  “Are they dressed in matching jogging suits?” he asked. Anna had gotten the three of us the cheesiest sweatpants and jacket outfit. Anna’s and mine were white with pink bedazzled letters spelling out “bride” for her and a “bridesmaid” for me on the back of the jacket. Jared’s was a black set with the same pink rhinestone “bridesmaid” spelled out on the back. Neither of us had been too thrilled, but it was Anna’s special day, so we gave in with a minimal amount of grumbling.

  “No matching outfits for Jeff and his friends. I tried to get them T–shirts, but they refused to wear them.”

  “Not surprising,” Jared said. “Though it doesn’t seem quite fair we that couldn’t refuse.”

  “Oh, stop. Just get into the spirit of things.”

  The flight attendant started calling rows for seating. We were all split up in couples, Jared and I, Anna and Jeff, and Jeff’s two friends. I had plans of sleeping on the plane and told Jared not to bother me once
we got seated and took off.

  “Wake up, sleeping beauty.” Jared nudged me awake. “We’re getting ready for landing, and seats and tray tables need to put back in the upright position,” he said, imitating the flight attendants, one of whom he had shamefully flirted with the entire flight, or at least the entire time I was awake. I yawned. The day had started out at the crack of dawn after maybe two hours of sleep. I had, surprisingly enough, managed to get my shifts covered at Silk, the high–end clothing boutique where I worked. James, the owner, knew he needed me, so he didn’t give me any more than his usual hard time. And I told Tracy I would have to put off my Mary Kay career another week. Actually, I thought Tracy was more annoyed than James. Tracy’s passion for Mary Kay was a little over the top. She even tried to get me to try and sell some while in Vegas, but I told her that wouldn’t be right to do for Anna’s wedding.

  Looking out the window, I could start to see some of the city from the air. I was excited at the prospect of getting away for a few days and visiting Vegas for the first time. It was a Wednesday, and we weren’t going back home until Sunday. The flight attendant talking got my attention, and I looked at Jared.

  “Did she actually say it was eighty–five degrees? Already? At nine in the morning?” I groaned.

  “What do you expect when you’re in Vegas in September? Be glad it’s not July. Besides, it’s not like Chicago heat. This is dry heat and much more tolerable than the hot, humid air of the Midwest.”

  “Says you.” Thank goodness for air conditioning. “You know what this is going to do to my hair?” I said, subconsciously patting it while looking at my outfit. It was a little wrinkled but not bad for a four–hour flight I mostly spent sleeping. I slipped on my pink espadrilles and leaned back, still trying to force myself all the way awake. “I could really use some coffee.”

  “Buck up girlfriend,” Jared said. “I told you this is dry heat. Your hair will be fine. Besides, I am not going to listen to you whine about your hair or the heat or anything else while we are in the sin city. We’re here to have fun! Like that couple across the aisle from us.”