Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 03 - Buyer's Remorse by Traci Tyne Hilton Read Free Book Online Page A

money. Nothing she pocketed was worth anything. The house that lost its keys was never robbed. I think she was sick, but not bad.”
    Mitzy sighed. “I wonder what brought her to the condo? Why was she even there?”
    “I wish I knew, Mitzy. I wish she had asked me about going there. I wish that she hadn’t gone alone. I wish with all of my heart that I knew why she had gone there. That I had known she was going there.” Tina’s face flushed and the tip of her nose turned red. She turned away from Mitzy for a moment and blinked her eyes. “I really wish I could stay and talk more but I am swamped. Please forgive my rushing out.”
    Tina stood up and put the earnest money check in her purse. “I’ll shred the check.”
    Mitzy nodded. “I think I’ll follow you out.”  She locked the office door but wondered , if the killer has my keys, what’s the point in locking up? She needed to get a locksmith to every property she owned today. And she needed to take a trip to Neveah’s Wardrobe.
     
    How did Lara save up all the money she put down on the condo? Mitzy chewed on that question as she drove. Retail didn’t pay well and Lara wasn’t old enough to have just saved that whole down payment. Tina had been confident that Lara had the full 20% down. She wasn’t borrowing it; it wasn’t a gift from family.
    Lara was twenty-five years old, worked in a dress shop on Hawthorne St. and had fifty-thousand dollars in the bank. It just didn’t compute. Mitzy decided to drive to Neveah’s Wardrobe and check out the store itself. Maybe seeing it would explain how Lara had built up her wealth.
    Mitzy pulled her Miata in front of an old craftsman style house on a side street a few blocks away from the shop. She eyed the house. It needed a roof and could use some landscaping. It had laundry hanging on the porch. The house two doors down was for sale. Mitzy longed to knock on the door of the laundry house and explain to them how neighborly it would be if they just cleaned up a little. She shook her head. No time today. It rankled her to think of the dollars the sellers would lose because of that laundry line two doors down, but she couldn’t do anything about it now.
    She beeped her locks and walked towards Hawthorne , the hippy heart of Southeast Portland . Artists and free thinkers gathered here to live, commune, create, and eat Coney Island hot dogs. Suburban moms visited for the charming shops and a taste of the quirky that gave Portland its flavor. Mitzy liked Hawthorne , but she didn’t really fit in with the artsy Hawthorne crowd.
    The shop Lara had worked at was in a strip of shops across the street from the bank and next door to a vegan bakery. The smell of fresh baked bread was to-die-for. Mitzy breathed deep as she took a moment in front of the shop door to plan her investigation. She wanted to price the clothes, gauge the busyness of the location, and chat with the other staff about Lara. Who was Lara while she was at work? Moreover, did they know who Lara was when she wasn’t at work?
    Mitzy opened the door and a little bell jingled.
    No one appeared to greet her.
    The store was dusky feeling, despite the overabundance of lamps. Massive chandeliers hung from the drop ceiling. The removable panels were painted black. Floor lamps clustered in every corner. They looked to be cast offs of any time or style but all painted burgundy with gold details picked out. Mitzy wanted to like it but found the overall effect cheap. The masses of hanging and standing lights did nothing to brighten the interior. Cold, flickering commercial fluorescents hung from the ceiling as well, fighting with the warm colors and rich fabrics of the interior.
    Black and burgundy velvet draped the walls, and fabric fell in deep folds, puddling on waist high shelves. The shelves were stacked with merchandise, some candles, jewelry, hats and things. They looked dusty and untouched.
    The racks of clothes matched the half-hearted gothic feel of the