The Missing Ink by Karen E. Olson Page B

sauntered off, and I asked Bitsy to stock the case while I was with my next client, who walked in just at that moment, letting me off the hook—but not for long.
    I was in the middle of a Cinderella castle on the back of the client’s thigh when the door to my room opened slightly, Tim leaning around it. His shoulders were stiff in the sport jacket, his mouth set in a grim line. He caught my eye and cocked his head to indicate that I should come out.
    “I need a couple minutes,” I told the girl in front of me as I peeled off the latex gloves. “You want a soda or anything?”
    She was texting someone on her phone and shook her head.
    Joel mouthed, What’s up? as I passed him, and I shrugged as I followed Tim into the staff room. He shut the door behind me.
    “What do you know about Jeff Coleman?”
    “Hi, hello, nice to see you for the first time in two days,” I said, eager to put off this conversation, especially since I could feel my hands start to get clammy.
    I wasn’t a good liar.
    He relaxed slightly, but kept his hands on his hips. “Sorry, but I’ve been pretty busy. I need to know what you know about Coleman. He’s got a shop up near Fremont, and you always seem to know everyone.”
    As he said it, I realized it was true. I was never Miss Popular, but I always managed to keep up on who was who in the worlds I traveled in. It was always good to know who your enemies were, as well as your friends.
    “Yeah, I know Coleman. He’s a jerk.” I said it too loud, and Tim came so close our noses were almost touching.
    “Do you know where he is?”
    I didn’t have to lie this time. “No. Should I?”
    “He was married to Kelly Masters.”
    I hoped I had what looked like surprise all over my face.
    “You don’t look like that’s news to you,” Tim accused.
    So it was more like egg on my face. Figured.
    “I might have heard something,” I admitted.
    “When was the last time you saw him?”
    I shook my head, forcing myself to keep calm, even though my heart was pounding. “Not sure,” was all I could spit out.
    He didn’t believe me. So he tossed his cards on the table.
    “Coleman’s fingerprints were found on a gun in that rental car where we found Kelly Masters’s body last night.”
    “Really?” It had been on the news that she’d been shot. Jeff hadn’t said anything about his gun at the scene. My surprise was genuine this time. But Tim wasn’t finished.
    He threw the ace down.
    “And we found traces of blood that match Elise Lyon’s blood type in the backseat.”

Chapter 16
    Another little bit of information that Jeff neglected to mention when he called. Unless he didn’t know. I’d checked the caller ID after I hung up with him, but the number registered as restricted. I had no way of getting in touch with him to find out if he was messing around with me.
    “So, was Kelly Masters shot with that gun?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    I waited for more, but nothing else came. My thoughts ran around like a border collie in a field of sheep. “You’re sure it’s Coleman’s gun?”
    “It’s registered to him.”
    “Why would he kill her with his own gun and then leave it there? I mean, the guy’s not Ivy League or anything, but he’s not stupid, either.” Maybe whoever did kill her was framing Jeff, like he said. “And what does that mean? You found traces of blood?”
    “What do you think it means?”
    “So do you think Elise Lyon was shot, too?”
    His expression told me his patience was wearing thin, but nothing more.
    “Why are you here, then?” I asked. “Why aren’t you out looking for Jeff Coleman?”
    He ran his hand through his short hair, exasperated. “I thought maybe you might know where he hangs out.”
    “Oh, because he’s in my crowd? Because we’re both tattooists, we must hang out together? Tim, I hate to tell you this, but it’s not a club . We’re just business owners. Yeah, we run into each other from time to time, but I can’t stand the guy.” All