Murder of a Botoxed Blonde Read Free Page B

haven’t met before, have we?”
    “No, Ms. Denison, I don’t think so, but”—Margot’s smile was smug—”you’ve probably seen me in magazines or on TV. I was one of the top American models before I retired a few years ago.”
    “Ah, that explains it.” Now Skye recalled seeing Margot in an ad for very expensive jewelry. She had been wearing diamonds and not much more. “By the way, please call me Skye.”
    “That’s a beautiful name.” Margot tilted her head. “Do you have sisters called Sun, Moon, and Cloud?”
    “No, just a brother named Vince.” Skye studied Margot, trying to decide if the woman was mocking her. Margot’s face had an eerie perfection that showed little emotion, making her as hard to read as a game show host.
    Finally, Skye gave up trying to guess the woman’s intentions, and asked again, “Why did you want to see me?”
    Margot reached into her purse and handed Skye a brochure. “My husband and I are opening a beauty spa and resort on the old Bruefeld Estate.”
    “Yes, I’ve heard a spa was coming to town. How did you happen to choose Scumble River?”
    Skye’s question was one that most of the townspeople were asking. Opening a spa in the rural community seemed as silly to them as trying to farm a few acres in the center of Chicago’s Grant Park. Scumble River had a population of three thousand, and was located in the middle of the Illinois prairie. There was little to recommend it to the wealthy clientele most spas attracted.
    “My husband, Dr. Creighton Burnett, discovered that the mud of the Scumble River, as it goes past the Bruefeld Estate, is rich in sulfur, iron, manganese, and nickel, and has a salt rate of twenty-seven percent. When our own secret ingredient is added, it is the perfect formula for smoothing and softening the skin and making it look young again.”
    “I see. But do you really think women will travel to the middle of nowhere just for some mud?”
    “Not just some mud, Miracle Mud. Wouldn’t you go out of your way to find the Fountain of Youth?”
    Skye shrugged. “I guess some people might.” She certainly wanted to look nice, and wasn’t opposed to using moisturizers and makeup to shave off a few years, but flying hundreds or thousands of miles to bathe in mud was beyond what she was willing to do to look young. “But—”
    Margot cut off Skye. “I can’t understand why you people aren’t thrilled to have a new business.” The spa owner’s sapphire eyes glinted with impatience, but herexpression remained unchanged, as if she were incapable of frowning. “We’re creating jobs, bringing in people who will spend money here—why is everyone so damned negative?”
    Margot’s attack surprised Skye, and she tried to explain, realizing she hadn’t been as diplomatic as she might have been. “I can’t speak for the whole town, but I’m sure their skepticism comes from a lack of understanding, and maybe doubts that people will come here for a stay, rather than anything against you or your business.”
    “You’re probably right.” Margot did an abrupt about-face, her shoulders drooping. “And I can see how you people might think that way, but we’re going to succeed. My husband and I have put all our money into this project. Nothing and no one will stand in our way.”
    “I’m sure no one will intentionally try and make the spa fail, no matter what the town gossips say about it.” Skye leaned slightly forward and patted Margot’s hand, wondering why the woman was telling
her
all this.
    “That’s just it. Someone
is
trying to sabotage us. That’s why I’ve come to you.”
    “Me? Why?”
    Margot flipped back the oval clasp on her crocodile purse, reached in, and thrust a sheaf of newspaper clippings into Skye’s hands. “Because you’re the Scumble River Nancy Drew. Everyone tells me you’re the only one who can solve the mystery.”
    “People exaggerate.” Skye noticed the spa owner’s purse was a Dolce & Gabbana, which