Beauty to Die For Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Praise for Beauty to Die For

  “Supermodel Kim Alexis has taken her experiences and her heart for healthy living and woven them beautifully in this cozy mystery. Beauty to Die For will leave you cheering for Juliette and Marcus as they work to solve their feelings and the murder.”

  —Cheryl Tiegs, supermodel/spokesperson/designer

  “Clark’s books always deliver an amazing read: riveting characters, intricate layers, and plot twists that keep me glued to the page. You’ll love her books!”

  —Colleen Coble, best-selling author of Tidewater Inn

  “In Beauty to Die For, Mindy Starns Clark delivers characters who grab your heart and take you with them through perils and triumph, hazards and emotions, both hideous and inspiring. No one makes me feel as intense as I read as Mindy Clark. I will keep these story people in my head as if they are real for days after enjoying the book. Hero and heroine to cheer for. Villains who tug at your heart because life turned them to dastardly deeds. And those other wicked people who are just plain evil and have you rooting for the law to catch them, with the help of our hero and heroine, of course.”

  —Donita K. Paul, author of the Dragon Keeper Chronicles and Chronicles of Cheril

  “Mindy Clark has always had her hand on the pulse of what her readers want most, and Beauty to Die For has turned out to be proof positive that she’s getting better. A highly recommended read, her best one yet.”

  —Hannah Alexander, author of Eye of the Storm and The Wedding Kiss

  Mindy Starns Clark’s Beauty to Die For has well-defined characters, an intriguing mystery, intense action, and a romance that leaves you sighing for more. I’m looking forward to more in this series!

  —DeAnna Julie Dodson, author of In Honor Bound

  “What a great read! This story has everything I want in book; lots of romance, mystery, twists and turns and a great finale. It is also a wonderful illustration of the faithfulness of God to bring us through when all signs point to disaster.”

  —Rev. Cheryl Schang

  “I’ve had the unique opportunity to travel and often be on the sidelines with Kim Alexis since the infancy of her career. Kim has a grip on real life and what true beauty is. In her debut novel I feel she has captured the essence of both and given us an inside peek into supermodel life.”

  —Lyn Lichty, friend and fitness partner

  "The characters instantly capture you and draw you into their worlds. An interesting story that gradually unfolds until you find yourself in the center of Juliette's life and loving every minute! Supermodels are supermodels for the rest of their lives, and Juliette will always be a supermodel even if she is now a cosmetics maven embroiled in intrigue."

  —Carol Alt, supermodel

  Beauty to Die For, Digital Edition

  Based on Print Edition

  Copyright © 2012 by Mindy Starns Clark and Kim Alexis Pro. Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America

  978-1-4336-7293-4

  Published by B&H Publishing Group

  Nashville, Tennessee

  Dewey Decimal Classification: F

  Subject Heading: MYSTERY FICTION HOMICIDE—FICTION HEALTH RESORTS—FICTION

  Unless otherwise noted, Scripture version is New International Version, copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by International Bible Society. Also used is King James Version (KJV).

  Publisher’s Note: The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  For the mothers who put their kids first,

  the volunteers who serve with glad hearts,

  and all who give tirelessly and expect nothing in return.

  Please remember to take care of yourselves as well,

  to be mindful of your health,

  and, once in a while,

  to indulge in a little pampering.

  God bless you for all you do!

  Kim and Mindy

  Acknowledgments

  Kim and Mindy thank . . .

  Our amazing editor, Karen Ball: unique visionary, brainstormer extraordinaire, and paragon of patience.

  Julie Gwinn and everyone at B&H Publishing Group who have dedicated their time, talents, and incredible enthusiasm to this series.

  Chip MacGregor of MacGregor Literary and Frank Breeden at Premiere Authors.

  Tracie P. Hall BS, LMT, CMMT, at Restorative Health Therapies in Lansdale, Pennsylvania.

  Everyone at Calista Grand Salon & Spa in West Chester, Pennsylvania, especially owners Don Moore and Maria McCool, and stylist Christy Koustourlis.

  Susan Page Davis, Leslie Gould, Kay Justus, Joseph Starns, Lori Denton, and Art DiGiacomo at salongalaxy.com; Vanessa Thompson, Helen Styer Hannigan, and Stephanie Ciner.

  The helpful management and staff of Two Bunch Palms in Desert Hot Springs, California, on which parts of our fictional Palm Grotto Resort & Spa are based. Special thanks to Mark Eads, Mike Conrad, and Tony Calsolaro for making sure we were more than adequately “Two-Bunched.” Any mistakes, changes, or poetic licenses taken are all ours.

  Most of all, thanks to our precious families, who help in ways too numerous to count:

  John, Emily, and Lauren

  and

  Ron, Amber, Jamie, Shay, Bobby, and Noah.

  We couldn’t do it without you!

  Chapter One

  KILL ME NOW.

  Juliette froze at the end of the jetway, staring at the vivid flash of red hair in the crowd up ahead. The woman was just one of many pouring out from a nearby gate, but all it took was a glimpse of those distinctive red waves for Juliette to know exactly who she was.

  Not today, not when Juliette was already dealing with so much. Please, not her.

  But it was her, it had to be. Juliette would know those flaming tresses anywhere. Only one person on earth could carry off that height and color and style with such absolute flair.

  The great Raven herself.

  Juliette ducked, hiding among the throng spilling out around her, then she worked her way to one side and moved behind a wide pillar. Cheeks burning, she pretended to adjust a strap on her carry-on as the crowd swept past.

  What were the odds of ending up in the same gate area of the same airport on the same day as her former cohort? Yet it had happened, even way out here i
n the middle of the California desert—a near-encounter with a fellow supermodel, one who’d been in the business at the same time as Juliette, back in the ’80s. Raven, of all people. The woman was a living nightmare.

  The phone in Juliette’s pocket gave off the signal for a text, so she pulled it out and checked the message. It was from Didi, her best friend and business partner, who had flown out two days before to prepare for the big event they would be hosting over the weekend at one of the spas that carried their “JT Lady” line of beauty products. The message said: Am in cell lot. Text when you get in.

  Thumbs flying, Juliette replied: I’m here, but u’ll never guess who else is.

  Didi’s response was quick: ???

  Smiling to herself, Juliette typed, THE RED DRAGON

  Didi’s reply—!!!!!!!—was followed by a second text: RAVEN? No way!

  Juliette nodded to herself as she typed. Yep, am hiding now. Can’t come out till coast is clear.

  Didi’s final response: No prob, take ur time. Oh yeah, check out billboard at carousel 3 before u come out.

  Juliette slipped the phone into her pocket and shifted around the pillar to take another look. Scanning the crowd, she spotted the regal redhead at the far end of the hallway. With more of her visible now, Juliette could see the woman was dressed in a flowing mix of purple and teal silk with a couture-like fit. Oh yes, this had to be Raven. Fortunately she was heading straight to the main exit rather than baggage claim. Though the notorious diva had never been known for traveling light, it seemed this trip was an exception. Whew.

  Juliette waited until Raven disappeared from sight, then gripped the handle of her carry-on and moved out from behind the pillar. Glad to have dodged that bullet, she made her way to baggage claim and looked around for carousel three. The moment she spotted the sign, her face eased into a smile. Mounted on the back wall, the huge billboard featured an inviting photo of Palm Grotto Spa’s world-famous mineral pool, a handsome couple floating side by side in its turquoise waters. Above them was the spa’s elegant palm-frond logo. But the best part of the sign was in the lower half. There, in blazing white text against even deeper blue water, were the words:

  It’s Your Turn . . .

  A Juliette Taylor Event

  May 11–13

  Under that was the contact info for signing up, and across the very bottom was her company’s brand new slogan:

  Isn’t it time someone took care of you for a change?

  The whole billboard really was striking. Standing there and taking it in, Juliette knew she should feel grateful for their gorgeous new “look”—new colors, new logo, new packaging. Instead, all she could feel was fear and frustration and regret.

  That’s because what had started out as a simple product redesign had ended up bringing to light serious criminal acts that were being perpetrated against Juliette and her beauty supply company, JT Lady. Those crimes had been discovered thanks to the implementation phase of the new design program, which meant it had turned out to be a mixed blessing. They needed to know what was going on, of course. But Juliette sure didn’t like knowing, not at all. How blissful it had been when her head was in the sand! If they hadn’t done the redesign, they might never have learned about the crimes at all.

  Juliette was startled from her thoughts by a nearby scream.

  “You have got to be kidding me!”

  She spun around to see that she was standing not ten feet from Raven, who then let out a long stream of curses, her voice echoing across baggage claim.

  Time for a quick getaway. While the woman’s back was to her, Juliette scanned the area for a hiding place, but even as she spotted a restroom she could duck into, she hesitated. Perhaps it was the poor old gray-haired porter, who didn’t deserve to be spoken to like that. Or maybe it was the children over by the water fountain, who shouldn’t have to hear such blue language. Either way, Juliette let loose a sigh. She couldn’t run and hide. In the past she’d seen Raven go on like this for a full five or ten minutes, but she’d also seen the woman’s attitude change on a dime, even in the midst of her most vicious rant, if she felt like it. Hoping that would be the case here, Juliette took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and strode forward.

  Time to slay the fire-breathing dragon—or at least keep her from burning someone else.

  MARCUS STONE STOOD IN the doorway of the old warehouse, looking around at the near-empty space inside. For the past six months this had been command central for JATFAT—the Joint Atlanta Task Force Against Terrorism. Filled with personnel and equipment, it had served as a top-secret beehive of activity, everyone working together toward a singular goal: the seizure of a newly activated terrorist cell based in metro Atlanta. That goal had been achieved last month with the arrest of all the cell’s members, and now, after several weeks of processing, investigating, and debriefing, things had finally begun to wind down.

  At this point the place held only a few workstations and a handful of people. The rest would be finishing the paperwork at their regular offices and leaving the final wrap-up here to the core members of the team.

  Marcus spotted the man he was there to see, Special Agent in Charge Nate Anderson, near the back of the room, trying to close one of the few windows in the place.

  He headed that way. “Need some help?”

  Nate turned. “Hey, Stone, how you doing?”

  The two men shook hands. “Fine. You?”

  Nate gestured toward the window. “Not too good at the moment. Somebody thought we needed some fresh air in here today, and now it’s stuck open.”

  “The breeze is nice.”

  “Yeah, but those crickets . . .”

  Marcus could hear the cacophony of chirps outside, typical in Georgia for this time of year.

  “Still can’t tolerate that sound.” Anderson’s voice was low, guttural. “It’s been eleven years, but the minute I hear it, might as well have been yesterday. Three hundred and forty-three of ’em under the rubble, all going off at once, and not a thing we could do about it.”

  Marcus could feel a tightening in his chest as he, too, remembered. “You’re talking about the PASS alarms after 9/11.” Short for “Personal Alert Safety Systems,” the distress signals were designed to go off whenever the emergency workers wearing them became immobile for more than thirty seconds, to indicate they were in trouble. After the towers fell, more than three hundred firefighters had been trapped, immobile, below the rubble.

  Less than a minute later, their alarms began to go off.

  Nate nodded. “Sounded just like a bunch of crickets to me. It was bad enough at the beginning, when there were so many and we couldn’t get to any of them. But it was even worse when things started quieting down. Batteries dying one by one.”

  Marcus remembered. It had taken more than a day for the last of those beeps to stop. He’d hated the silence even more than the noise.

  With a quick glance his way, Nate added, “You?”

  Marcus shrugged, sliding his hands in his pockets. “The sound of crickets, not so much. For me, it’s the smell of gasoline or kerosene or diesel. Even lighter fluid. One whiff and I’m back at ground zero, holding my breath from the stench of jet fuel.”

  “Amen, brother. We’re a real pair, huh? Scared of insects and barbecue grills.”

  Marcus gave a nod and moved to the window. “Let’s see if I can help. Maybe together we can get it closed.”

  Each taking a side, the two men wrestled with the stubborn windowpane and finally managed to break it free from whatever was stopping it from sliding shut. As frame met sill with a thud, the sound of the crickets outside was muffled by more than half.

  “Sorry to say, you can still hear ’em a little.” Marcus brushed his hands together to wipe off the dust.

  “Yeah, well, I never stop hearing ’em, not completely, anyway.” Nate grabbed a rag to wipe his hands. “Then again, who am I to complain? You had it worse there than I did, that’s for sure.”

  Marcus felt hi
s stomach clench at the thought, but he was saved from having to respond when Nate added, “Anyway, what’s up? Can I do something for you?”

  Marcus took a deep breath and blew it out, not sure how to broach the topic he’d come here to discuss. “I need to talk with you for a minute. It’s about that list of names we found among the papers recovered from the terrorist cell.”

  “Oh?” Nate moved toward his desk and gestured for Marcus to have a seat on the other side.

  Marcus glanced around, glad the place was all but deserted, then sat and watched as Nate flipped through the file drawer. He pulled one, opened it onto the desk, and flipped through until he came to a copy of the paper in question, the name list.

  Among the evidence that had been collected in the wake of the capture of the terrorist cell had been a typed list of ten names—with no other information at all. Most of the names on it had been immediately recognizable, at least to those on the task force. Three were public figures who spoke out against the counterfeiting of designer goods, such as knock-off purses, counterfeit DVDs, and fake perfumes. Four were members of Congress who were working to toughen federal anticounterfeiting laws. The connection for the remaining three names was less clear, but with some investigation it was determined that the list was comprised of ten people whose actions could be financially detrimental to the cell’s counterfeit-based money raising activities in one way or another.

  Marcus skimmed the names upside down, remembering the first time he’d seen that list, just a few weeks before.

  “Number six,” he said gruffly.

  Nate ran his finger along the list and stopped there. “Oh yeah, the former supermodel?”

  Marcus nodded, swallowing hard. “Yep, that’s the one. Juliette Taylor. I’m here because I need to talk to you about her.”

  “RAVEN?” JULIETTE FORCED A light and happy tone into her voice. “Is that you? I can’t believe it. How are you?”

  Raven turned, and when she saw Juliette, the expression on her face changed from rage to surprise to what looked like genuine delight.