Poppy Harmon and the Pillow Talk Killer Lee Hollis (best motivational books for students .TXT) 📖

to stay out of my active murder investigation, you might tell me you will in order to give me a little peace of mind, but you’re not really going to do it, are you?”

Poppy weighed her answer carefully, then, in a clipped tone, said, “No, Detective, probably not.”

“I didn’t think so. But, hey, I appreciate your honesty.”

Click.

Poppy knew she had to answer the man’s question truthfully, because Poppy Harmon was many things, some not flattering, but a liar was definitely not one of them.

Chapter 24

Village Fest, a street fair held every Thursday night in downtown Palm Springs was a popular attraction for both locals and tourists, where individuals and businesses sold food, handcrafted items, antiques, art, clothing, and jewelry. Poppy scanned the booths that lined both sides of the street, trying to locate a sign for Lulu’s Scribblings. Lulu, the extra from the Palm Springs Weekend set whom Poppy had seen accepting a fat wad of cash from producer Greta Van Damm, was a sketch artist who drew comic caricatures of her subjects. Wyatt had done a quick Google search on just the first name Lulu. Other than a popular downtown restaurant with the same name, the only other local Lulu he found was Lulu Hopkins with a Web site for her artwork and a few Palm Springs discussion groups about Village Fest raving about her drawings. And so Poppy recruited Iris and Violet to accompany her to the popular street fair where she could track down Lulu and ask her questions about her interaction with Greta.

Violet had been distracted by a booth selling coconut-scented candles and Iris stopped at a kielbasa sausage stand that was handing out free samples, and so it was left to Poppy to soldier on with the search for Lulu. She had almost hiked up and down the entire stretch of street devoted to the fair when she finally spotted the bouncy blonde sitting in a rocking chair as an elderly man sat posing, his excited wife sneaking a peek of the sketch Lulu was working on, her eyes dancing with joy. Lulu finished and turned the canvas around to show the old man. The caricature reminded Poppy of the nearly blind cartoon character Mr. Magoo, but on closer inspection, the old man himself looked quite like Mr. Magoo. The man chuckled and his wife clapped her hands excitedly before reaching into her bag, which was flung over her shoulder, and handing Lulu a twenty-dollar bill.

Lulu stuffed the money into a tin box and the couple sauntered away. Unfortunately, there were no other potential customers waiting. She simply could not compete with the adjoining booth to her left, Joe’s Pet Paintings, which was attracting a much larger crowd, eager to immortalize their beloved cats and dogs and even parrots in a pop art–style painting. Joe also offered free dog biscuits along with free shipping, and so it was tough for someone like Lulu to compete.

As Poppy approached the booth, Lulu sat up, instantly recognizing her. “Poppy Harmon! What a lovely surprise!”

Poppy was surprised by the ebullient reaction given the two women had never formally met. “Hello, Lulu, I saw the drawing you did of that man who just left, and I must say, you’re very talented.”

Lulu preened with pride, thrusting out her ample bosom. “Why, thank you. Would you like one of yourself?”

Poppy was not partial to actual photographs of herself, even the more flattering ones, let alone a caricature, but she knew if she wanted to get information out of Lulu, the odds were better if she was hiring her services.

“Yes, I’d love one,” Poppy cooed as she plopped down in a chair and struck a pose.

Lulu grabbed her pencil and began sketching feverishly while chattering away. “It was such a shame the production had to be shut down after, well, you know, what happened to poor Danika. I was so looking forward to being in a big-time Netflix movie. Of course, it’s not like I had a major part or anything, like you, but it was going to be my first official IMDB credit, which is like practically being on the road to becoming a legitimate actress.”

“Yes, it’s all very sad,” Poppy said soberly. “But at least you have this to fall back on until the next acting gig comes along.”

Lulu scoffed as she continued scribbling. “This doesn’t exactly pay the bills. It’s more of a hobby at this point.” She glanced over at Joe besieged by jubilant animal lovers signing up for one of his pet paintings. “I keep hoping that someday I get the kind of traffic he gets, but I know it takes time. It’s a marathon not a sprint, right?”

“Absolutely,” Poppy offered reassuringly. “And it’s lucky you’re able to pick up the occasional odd job in the meantime to pay the rent.”

Lulu stopped sketching and looked up at Poppy, perplexed. “What gave you that idea? I actually live with my mother because I can’t afford my own place right now.”

“Oh . . . I’m sorry, I was under the impression that you were working part-time, or at least doing some freelance work for Greta Van Damm since I saw her giving you a stack of cash on the set before we shut down.”

Lulu’s face froze.

She was not sure how to proceed, and so she decided to just ignore what Poppy had left hanging out there and redirect her attention back to the caricature she was working on.

“I just assumed you were doing a job for her because you would have been paid by the payroll company for your extra work on the movie.”

More uncomfortable silence.

Lulu glanced back up at Poppy, studying her features, then sketched some more.

Finally, after what felt like an interminable amount of time, but was perhaps maybe ten or fifteen seconds, Lulu said without looking up from her drawing, “You’re right. That money was for something else. . . .”

“I’m sure it’s none of my business.”

“Right again,” Lulu said, instantly regretting her sharp tone. “I’m