KILLER DATE (SCANDALS) Read Online Free
Author: Kathy Clark
not be seen parked behind a high wall with an electronic gate.
“Nice to meet you, Jenny.” Killeen gave her a friendly smile and Jenny nodded.
“You, too,” she said and headed toward the front door. I had to hurry to keep up. This was a woman with a mission.
There was only one car in the front lot, a silver ten-year-old Honda Accord that was obviously hers.
“They seem nice,” Jenny commented after we were settled in the front seat of her car.
“They are. Remind me to tell you how Killeen saved our lives last weekend.”
Angela’s tattoo studio was in an older area of downtown that hadn’t yet been transformed by urban renewal. Of course, there was a Starbucks on one corner and a neighborhood grocery store on the other. Crammed between the Starbucks and a trendy used furniture store was a narrow shop barely wide enough for a single door and a 3’ x 5’ plate-glass window that had been painted over so you couldn’t see inside. Longhorn Tattoo was neatly hand-painted on the outside, along with a phone number and Open Saturday, Sunday and By Appointment . A large thick padlock hung on the commercial grade zinc plate latch post hasp.
“I’m not familiar with Austin,” I said as I watched her struggle to get the padlock off of the shiny new hasp, “ but this doesn’t strike me as a particularly safe area.”
She frowned as she concentrated on getting the key to turn…without success. “It’s all she could afford. Being so close to the university, it has a lot of foot traffic.”
One of the first tricks I had learned as a child was how to pick locks, and I knew that in spite of its size and quality, I could open this one in less than fifteen seconds. However, I didn’t want to freak Jenny out by showing her how easy it would be to breech the front door, so I stood back and let her use her key.
Dallas added. “During the day, it’s okay. At night, it can be a little sketchy.”
Jenny didn’t seem surprised by that information. “She was only here during daylight hours. I insisted on that. Besides, I know how she loses herself in her art, and I wanted to make sure she had time to do her homework.”
“Did she stick to the schedule?” Dallas asked.
“Always. Oh, she might be five or ten minutes late, but she always came home before dark,” Jenny answered.
That didn’t sound like a girl with a boyfriend, I thought.
Jenny finished releasing the lock and then opened the door. “Hold on, I’ll get the lights.” She flipped a switch on the wall. All of the bare fluorescence light tubes came on at one time, flooding the room with bright light. That made sense for tattoos, but not so much for artwork.
“Was she really good with colors?” I knew all about lighting from the stage shows I’d been involved with in high school and Vegas.
“Colors? Of course…why?”
“Fluorescence lights don’t show true colors,” I explained. “I’m guessing she didn’t do any personal art here.”
Jenny frowned at the grid of new lights that hung from the ceiling. “That’s odd, because I remember thinking how dark this place was when she first rented it, and she said she’d find some spotlights or take her easel outside to the park. I don’t know when she added all these…or how she paid for them.”
I circled the room slowly, studying the stack of half-finished canvases in one corner and the displays of tattoo art that were stuck so close together that it actually papered every wall. There were lots of sci-fi themed pictures, cartoon characters, Oriental symbols, flowers, butterflies and dozens of different variations of Bevo, the UT longhorn steer mascot and the university’s iconic initials. Nothing raised any questions. I glanced over at Dallas who was going through the paperwork at an old wooden desk, also without success.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Jenny asked as she wandered around the small space
“Nice to meet you, Jenny.” Killeen gave her a friendly smile and Jenny nodded.
“You, too,” she said and headed toward the front door. I had to hurry to keep up. This was a woman with a mission.
There was only one car in the front lot, a silver ten-year-old Honda Accord that was obviously hers.
“They seem nice,” Jenny commented after we were settled in the front seat of her car.
“They are. Remind me to tell you how Killeen saved our lives last weekend.”
Angela’s tattoo studio was in an older area of downtown that hadn’t yet been transformed by urban renewal. Of course, there was a Starbucks on one corner and a neighborhood grocery store on the other. Crammed between the Starbucks and a trendy used furniture store was a narrow shop barely wide enough for a single door and a 3’ x 5’ plate-glass window that had been painted over so you couldn’t see inside. Longhorn Tattoo was neatly hand-painted on the outside, along with a phone number and Open Saturday, Sunday and By Appointment . A large thick padlock hung on the commercial grade zinc plate latch post hasp.
“I’m not familiar with Austin,” I said as I watched her struggle to get the padlock off of the shiny new hasp, “ but this doesn’t strike me as a particularly safe area.”
She frowned as she concentrated on getting the key to turn…without success. “It’s all she could afford. Being so close to the university, it has a lot of foot traffic.”
One of the first tricks I had learned as a child was how to pick locks, and I knew that in spite of its size and quality, I could open this one in less than fifteen seconds. However, I didn’t want to freak Jenny out by showing her how easy it would be to breech the front door, so I stood back and let her use her key.
Dallas added. “During the day, it’s okay. At night, it can be a little sketchy.”
Jenny didn’t seem surprised by that information. “She was only here during daylight hours. I insisted on that. Besides, I know how she loses herself in her art, and I wanted to make sure she had time to do her homework.”
“Did she stick to the schedule?” Dallas asked.
“Always. Oh, she might be five or ten minutes late, but she always came home before dark,” Jenny answered.
That didn’t sound like a girl with a boyfriend, I thought.
Jenny finished releasing the lock and then opened the door. “Hold on, I’ll get the lights.” She flipped a switch on the wall. All of the bare fluorescence light tubes came on at one time, flooding the room with bright light. That made sense for tattoos, but not so much for artwork.
“Was she really good with colors?” I knew all about lighting from the stage shows I’d been involved with in high school and Vegas.
“Colors? Of course…why?”
“Fluorescence lights don’t show true colors,” I explained. “I’m guessing she didn’t do any personal art here.”
Jenny frowned at the grid of new lights that hung from the ceiling. “That’s odd, because I remember thinking how dark this place was when she first rented it, and she said she’d find some spotlights or take her easel outside to the park. I don’t know when she added all these…or how she paid for them.”
I circled the room slowly, studying the stack of half-finished canvases in one corner and the displays of tattoo art that were stuck so close together that it actually papered every wall. There were lots of sci-fi themed pictures, cartoon characters, Oriental symbols, flowers, butterflies and dozens of different variations of Bevo, the UT longhorn steer mascot and the university’s iconic initials. Nothing raised any questions. I glanced over at Dallas who was going through the paperwork at an old wooden desk, also without success.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Jenny asked as she wandered around the small space
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