Hollywood Murder by M. Z. Kelly

after seven. I was unlocking my apartment when Natalie came over and reminded me about their get-together with the celebrity chef. “Marlon the Magnificent should be here ’bout eight. Why not stop by for a Dirty Harriett and some nosh, then...” Her eyes fixed on my new do. “What the hell happened to your hair?”
    “Do you like it?”
    Natalie brushed a hand through her own gorgeous blonde hair. “It’s…well, it’s kinda different.”
    My shoulders slumped. “You hate it.”
    She punched my shoulder. “I’m just takin’ the Mickey with ya. I love it. It makes you look—I think it gives you some attitude.”
    “Attitude. That’s something that’s never been in short supply with me.” I tugged on my dog’s leash. “Let me feed Bernie and I’ll stop by in a few.”
    A half hour later, I cringed as I opened the door to Natalie and Mo’s apartment and heard Nana’s voice. I went into the living room where I saw the elderly multi-millionaire was on the sofa with a couple of young men.
    Before I could say hello, Natalie shoved a drink in my hand and whispered, “You’re gonna need a Harriett, just to deal with her.”
    “What the hell happened to your hair?” Nana asked before I could acknowledge her and her youthful companions.
    Mo, who had on a short red wig, dipped her head toward Nana and her two friends. “Nana brought part of her posse.” Her gaze came back over and fixed on my hair. “I like the new do.”
    “I don’t,” Nana said. “You look like a lesbian. Did you switch sides?” Her entourage laughed.
    I exhaled and tried to keep my voice even. “Robin worked his magic.” I decided that if there was anything that merited a Dirty Harriett, it was being around Nana. I took a sip of the drink. It was frothy, cold and delicious.
    “Robin’s no Izzy,” Nana said, referencing Natalie’s magician boyfriend. “Your hair will look good in about six months, when it grows out.”
    I ignored her as Mo rubbed her forehead and said, “Nana was in the neighborhood and dropped by with a couple of guys who are gonna be on her show, Bedtime Stories. ”
    “This is Tugboat and Fly,” Nana said by way of introduction.
    I thought about asking about their names, but Nana continued, “The boys are gonna give up the goods about their lifestyle.”
    I probably should have kept my mouth shut, but it had already opened long enough for me to take another gulp of my Harriett, so I asked, “What kind of lifestyle is that?”
    “We’re gigolos,” Tugboat answered. He was a big guy who alternately flexed his biceps, making it look like he was suffering from some kind of strange muscular affliction.
    “Tugboat’s renowned in certain circles, if you know what I mean,” Nana said. She looked at her other companion. “Fly, on the other hand, makes you want to swat him.”
    “I’m what you would call persistent,” Fly said. He was smaller than his gigolo companion, with bulging eyes that maybe contributed to his nickname.
    I took another sip of my Harriett, trying to suppress images of Tugboat and Fly in their chosen profession.
    There was a knock at the door. Natalie answered it and in a moment introduced us to the celebrity chef, Marlon the Magnificent. She told us, “Marlon’s gonna make us one of his delicacies—a cream pie.”
    Nana opened her mouth wide enough to pop her oversized dentures out of her mouth and belly laughed. “A cream pie, really?”
    That was enough to set Mo into motion. Before Nana could say something inappropriate, she stood up and said, “You and the boys are gonna have to run along. This place ain’t big enough for all of us.”
    Their apartment was tiny, but I knew what she’d said was just an excuse to get rid of Nana and her posse.
    “We can take a hint,” Nana said, standing up. She smiled at the boat and the fly. “We’ve got other duties to take care of, anyway.”
    Nana’s companions had a queasy expression as they followed her to the door, maybe