Teased to Death (Misty Newman 1) by Gina LaManna Read Free Book Online

briefly crossed my mind. But instead of focusing on the negatives, I tried to look at the silver lining.
    At forty bucks a pop for the introductory class, I was headed straight for $240. Which was maybe more of a grayish cloud than the silver lining. When I said the number aloud, two hundred bucks didn't seem like a whole lot of money. But I could buy a good amount of Froot Loops with that dough. Or pay my cell phone bill. Hell, I'd even have a little left over for a lollipop at Sweets. Or even get started on my rent payment for next month.
    Filled with these jolly thoughts, I attempted to whistle as I straightened my purple-and-pink-tipped hair. I hoisted on a fresh pair of shorty shorts and a clingy tank top, pulling on a skirt over the shorts. I had a few errands to run before class this afternoon, and there was no sense changing in a few hours. I applied a quick layer of mascara and some Peeps-flavored lip balm.
    I'd show this town the art of the tease.

CHAPTER SIX
     
    I threw a baggie of Froot Loops into my purse and filled up a bottle with tap water. No more fancy Santa Monica bottled water for me—I was a babe on a budget. I grabbed a light sweater and locked up my grandmother's house. My house . I wasn't sure if I wanted to get used to that idea or not. Owning a house here meant roots, payments, responsibility. All words that scared me more than a little.
    Fueled by coffee and sugar, now was as good a time as ever to start looking for where Anthony Jenkins went out during his late-night escapades. The logical place to start was Sweets. I'd be able to kill not two but three birds with one stone: check out the studio and make sure it was free of crime scene debris, prep it for class, then swing by the candy store for advice. And maybe a lollipop. (Fine, four birds with one stone. I was in need of a lollipop to help with my hangover. Greasy food just didn't do the trick for me—I needed raw, pure sugar injections.)
    The walk was pleasant and fast, and I arrived at the studio pretty much sweat free, except for a little bit of moisture on my lower back. I passed by Sweets and waved at Donna, signaling I'd be right back. On the way into the building, I nodded at a pretty blonde, probably on her way to a car parked in the lot behind the building. So far so good—no signs of a murder anywhere on the premises. I marched into the studio feeling fairly lighthearted that my baby was up for class. The floors shined, the lights shone clearly, and…
    I stopped. The word Killer was written across the mirror in dark, shining red letters.
    I took one step closer. Below it, in uneven cursive, was the phrase Watch Your Back .
    My heart pounded. I glanced around the room, frozen. If the trespasser was still here, I didn't want to run into them. Not if they were mad enough to vandalize my property and threaten me all in one swoop.
    I took a step back, glancing around the open studio and seeing nobody. But the reflection of the letters made me see red in more ways than one. A burning rage burst behind my eyes. There was only one closet in the place, and the rest of the studio could be seen by mirrors. If the culprit was here, I wasn't going to hide.
    In three long strides, I reached the closet full of sexy playthings: satin gloves, button-down shirts, and rhinestone bras. Without thinking, I yanked the door open. A single black feather laced with sparkles drifted lazily to the ground.
    I was alone.
    "What happened here?" A raspy, familiar voice shattered the eerie silence behind me.
    I spun around faster than I thought possible, and the feather caught a gust of wind and floated toward Mrs. Jenkins.
    "Did you do this?" I asked.
    "No, I didn't." Mrs. Jenkins walked unsteadily forward, glancing around the room. She bent and picked up the feather, running it lightly across her lips. The effect was a creepiness that caused tingles to scurry down my spine.
    "Then what are you doing here?"
    "I wanted to stop by the studio before our first