Chapter 4: Getting a new look ... or two

When I say I feel like a new woman, it’s usually because I’ve replaced a few parts. Think about the way you look. How much of what you look like grows on your body? Well, my body is a blank canvas waiting for paint.

Not who she said she was

Maizie and I got to the office early this morning. For once we beat Cinnamon there. She was surprised when she came in. We went over the new case and she got on the phone. I had only the sketchiest of details about when Georgia McFearin came to Seattle, what company she worked for, and what she did for a living. I got Cinnamon to start putting together a profile for me. It will be good for her to do some actual detective work, even if she thinks she’s just office help. I started pulling together the notes from my meeting with Grover and making my travel arrangements to go to Savannah. I think I had put this off with the vague hope that there wouldn’t be a flight available or something, but after a moderate amount of hassle, I got a flight.

I was going to be miserable. The flight was at 6:10 Saturday morning and got in about dinner time. That meant I’d have to be at the airport before five at the latest. And I had a date Friday night! I seriously considered calling Tom and telling him I was going to have to bag it, but—damn—a date!

I’d just have to bite the bullet and get a vanpool ride to the airport. Leaving the apartment at four a.m. Then a rather evil plan came to mind and the object of that plan walked through my door at that very moment.

“Sugar?” Cinnamon said as she came in. “I got some bad news.” My plan kind of flew out the window.

“What is it?”

“Georgia McFearin didn’t work at Allied—at least not recently,” she said.

“What? Grover said that’s why she came out here to Seattle.”

“Well, it was, I guess.” Cinnamon was looking at her notes but I could tell she was just trying to look diligent. “HR won’t give out more than name and employment dates. They said she was employed at Allied from April 2014 to November 2014. That’s it.”

“No references, new job referral, reason for leaving?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Cinnamon confirmed. “They said all they were allowed to do is confirm dates of employment unless the employee specifically requested other information be forwarded.”

“Well, this babe isn’t going to be forwarding any requests,” I said. “I wonder if a request from the executor of the estate would get additional info.”

“Want me to check online to see if she’s listed anywhere?”

“Yeah. Google her and see what comes up. You never can tell when a company lists an employee on their website or something,” I said. “Dig in and let me know what you find, but don’t expect a miracle. It’s more likely we’ll find some mail or something at her house that gives us information.”

“You want me to run over and take a look?”

“Sure, but Cinnamon...”

“Yes?”

“I need a little favor.”

“Shoot, Sugar. You know you can count on me.”

“I need a ride to the airport Saturday morning,” I said.

“Morning?” She asked. “Like before noon?”

“Yes, way before noon. It’s official business. I have to fly out to meet my client on a six o’clock flight.”

“Six o’clock? In the morning? On a Saturday?” Cinnamon was looking at me like her new boss had just grown horns. I thought she was making a little much of it since she was usually in the office by eight-thirty. “I kind of have a date Friday night.”

“Yeah, I assumed so,” I said. “I do, too. I thought we could come home together after the game and whatever, and you could just stay overnight. That way, you won’t have to worry about not being able to get up in the morning. And neither will I.” The expression on her face was precious but after a few seconds it started to soften and the mischievous grin I’d come to expect from her crossed her face.

“Well, well. My new boss just invited me to spend the night with her,” she said. “What might come of that?”

It was my turn with the precious expression!

Becoming Peg

Tom called about a quarter past noon and confirmed our date. He said he’d pick me up at six-thirty Friday evening. We don’t have to worry about dinner since we’ll be eating in Geoff’s skybox. While Cinnamon continued her little investigation, I left for lunch and told her I wouldn’t be back for the afternoon.

Instead, my afternoon was spent with Stevie. You need to know a little about Stevie in order for this to make sense. She runs marathons, power-lifts 180, and dresses hair. She spent a few years as a theatrical makeup artist in New York and then came out here to do cosmetology in Seattle. She specializes in women who are in the midst of or have undergone appearance trauma. I don’t mean a bad hair day. I mean chemotherapy, mastectomy, stroke, disfiguring injury. Yeah. Me.