California Schemin' (27 page)

The owner of Planet Hair can do hair like no
one I’ve ever met. It’s always perfect, and while I can’t ever make
it look quite that good again, when I want to look good, Denise is
who I go and see. She also has her finger on the pulse of the Upper
Valley, so if you’re feeling out of touch, an hour in her salon
will take care of that too.

“Tell me again why you didn’t call your salon
Locks and Gossip?” I teased her as she shampooed my hair.

“Oh, stop.” She rinsed the suds out of my
hair and sat me up with a towel around my head. “Hey, did those
guys who were looking for you ever find you?”

“What guys? Were they good looking?”

“The first one was too old for you. Came in
yesterday asking about you. I told him I didn’t know where you
lived. I offered your work phone, but he wasn’t interested. The
second came in this morning. Wanted to know if you’d be going to
the wedding. Strange. Didn’t know you were so popular with the
men.”

I snorted.

“I’m not. Probably bill collectors,” but I
didn’t believe that. Unease began to grow in my stomach again.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about them. You
could take them if it came to a fight.”

“Very funny, Denise.”

That afternoon Max picked me up and took me
to town for the wedding. There was no point in everyone on the hill
driving down to the church, and if we wanted to come home in
separate vehicles, there would be plenty of rides to choose
from.

Outside the church Miles was straightening
Tom’s bow tie in front of a short line of men with ties hanging. A
chorus of smiles and greetings came from the group as I approached
Miles.

“Hey, Bree, I’m in the middle of something.
Do you mind seating yourself?”

“Sure. Where’s Steve? Shouldn’t he be hanging
out with you guys?”

“He’s in the men’s room thinking about
tossing his cookies,” Tom said.

“At least he’s only thinking about it.” I
smiled at the guys and pushed through the red doors.

The last time I had been in this church was
for Vera’s funeral. I felt my mood dropping as the memories of the
day flooded in on me.
Forget it
, I told myself. This is a
happy day. I deliberately walked past the rear church pew that I’d
sat in on that day and made my way to the front. Shirl had picked
up on the dancing down the aisle rage, and I wanted to be able to
see the whole thing.

Meg crashed through the door with her brood.
Gemma and Pete ran down the church and into my pew for hugs. Sara
and Jeremy sat behind me and leaned their forearms on the seat
back. Sara whispered to Jeremy as a large woman in a very short
skirt sat across the aisle from us. They burst into giggles, and
Meg gave them what could only be called the beady eyeball.

“Easy you two,” I said. “Remember, adults can
have their feelings hurt, too.”

Jeremy had the grace to look ashamed of
himself, but Sara just grinned at me.

“She must have a lot of self-confidence to
wear that to church, Bree. I don’t think I have to worry about
hurting her feelings.”

The church filled quickly, and it wasn’t long
before strains of music filled the room. A low mutter followed.
Instead of traditional wedding music, Hawaiian ukulele strumming
filled the hall. Before I had a chance to wonder at Shirl’s choice
of music, the first of the bridesmaids started down the aisle. She
was dressed in a grass skirt and bikini top. Her feet were bare,
and wrapped around her ankles and wrists were strands of . seaweed?
I bit my bottom lip to keep from grinning. A second and third
attendant followed the first. They were dressed identically, but
the effect was rather different on each of them.

“Oh my gosh, Bree, do you believe this?”
Sara’s voice was quiet in my ear. “The first one looks OK, but they
should have stuffed that one girl’s bra. I can’t say what I’m
thinking about the last one.”

Sara had a point. The third girl was truly
magnificent. The cups of her bikini barely contained her breasts,
and her belly was big and round as well. As she danced her body
undulated in a hypnotic sway that made me wonder if we were going
to end up seeing more of her than we maybe cared to.

I glanced around at the guests sitting in the
pews. Shell shock was the word that came to mind. Several people
had their mouths hanging open, and there were a couple of faces so
red that I was worried someone would have heart failure. Steve and
Tom had huge grins on their faces. They had known what was coming,
and they were enjoying it to the fullest.

“Where do you suppose they got the seaweed?”
I whispered to Sara.

“Iparty,” she whispered back. “They have this
whole section for luaus.”

Meg shot me a dirty look and shushed
Sara.

Meg’s whisper died away as Shirl appeared at
the back of the church. I’d never seen anything quite like her
get-up. Her hair was braided on top of her head, and she wore a
veil and white pearls. Her bikini top was white satin and lace.
Instead of a grass skirt, she wore an ankle length satin skirt
layered with strips of torn white lace. The effect could have been
very sea-weedy, if the skirt had been green. It was simply bizarre.
Her feet were bare like those of her bridesmaids, only she had
strips of lace hanging from her ankles and wrists.

Shirl minced the tiny steps of the hula while
waving her hands in an intricate pattern. If we’d been mesmerized
by the bridesmaids, now we were hypnotized. Each step brought her
about four inches closer to the altar. The elaborate motions of her
hands told a story. The only problem was I didn’t think any of us
had a clue what they were supposed to be saying. Presumably, it was
a song of love and devotion, but who knew? It could have been the
story of John and Yoko. I’d never know the difference.

I glanced to where Steve was waiting with
Tom. They both still wore oversized grins. I glanced back to Shirl.
She had her bottom lip pulled under her top teeth and the corners
of her mouth were twitching, and I realized she was trying not to
laugh. Instead of wedding nerves, Steve and Shirl were having
fun.

I recognized the feeling in the pit of my
stomach as jealousy. I wanted what they had. Hell, I wanted a
relationship that lasted more than a few months. I could already
imagine what the Leftsky kids would look like. Blonde hair, blue
eyes, devilish grins. They’d be the happiest kids in Vermont. Shirl
would have everything I’d ever wanted, not that I’d ever wanted
more than friendship with Steve. At least there was one guy in the
area I could say I’d never thought about dating. Steve and I were
friends, good friends.

The feeling that I was missing something
persisted through the ceremony. As the minister made the usual
introduction of the newly married couple, I considered skipping the
reception. No point in taking my sulky face to a party. I was
looking for the best way to escape the crowd at the front of the
church when Miles joined me.

“You have to come to the reception, you know.
You’re Steve’s oldest friend. Actually, I’m kind of surprised he
didn’t ask you to be the best man.”

“Very funny. Do I have to go to the
reception? I’m really not in the mood.”

“You’re just feeling self-conscious because
you don’t have a date. Why don’t you ride over with me? That way,
you can sit with me.”

“I thought you were with the wedding
party.”

“Nah, I’m just an usher. Tom’s the best man.
Come on.”

Miles grabbed my arm and pulled me over to
his truck.

“Get in.”

I was just about to jump in when I remembered
the cat food.

“You go on ahead. I’ve got to get some cat
food, or Stripes will start spraying the house again.”

“You’ve got a cat named Stripes?”

“No, a skunk. It’s a long story, and I’ll
tell it to you at the reception. If I get cat food now, I can put
it in Max’s truck, and he’ll drop it at the house for me.”

I trotted across the green and into the
little market. It took me less than three minutes to grab the cat
food and pay. The truck was where we left it before the wedding, so
I dropped the cat food on the seat and went looking for Max. I
stepped between two cars parked on the street and waited for a car
to pass before I crossed, but instead of going by, it slowed, then
stopped in front of me. Before I figured out who was in it, the
window slid down, and I could see a gun pointing directly at my
heart.

“Get in the car.”

It was Wallace. So the senator wasn’t in
Mexico. His voice was as smooth as when he was trying to convince
me to accuse innocent men of murder. Well, maybe not innocent, but
not guilty of killing his wife. The gun shook in his hand. I opened
the door and got in before I ended up with an extra hole in my
body.

When Senator Wallace drove into my drive,
Stripes was standing on the edge of the yard waiting for dinner.
Wallace gunned the engine and aimed for the skunk.

“No!” I lurched sideways and shoved Wallace’s
arm to the left. The car swerved, and I couldn’t tell if Stripes
had been hit, but I didn’t smell the telltale odor that accompanied
the death of a skunk. Wallace slammed on the brakes, and I darted
out of the car and up the front steps. Stripes was also moving
toward the house on a collision course with the dogs who had come
tearing around the back of the house, barking like mad.

“Annie, no! Go back!” But Annie was having no
part of it. She raced past Stripes and up the steps to jump on me.
Ranger and Hank ignored the skunk as well, but Diesel had to stop
for a sniff. I rushed to open the door and herd the other dogs into
the kitchen before Stripes blasted him. I slammed and locked the
door. Horrified, I watched as the dog touched noses with the skunk,
but nothing happened. They stood there nose to nose, Diesel’s hind
end going like crazy. I swear Stripes lifted his head and kissed
the dog.

That’s when the senator, who had finally
extracted himself from the car, came storming up the walk. As he
reached the animals, Diesel turned and growled, the hair along his
back standing up in a brindle Mohawk. Wallace bent his knee and
kicked Diesel hard under his jaw. Diesel yelped and made for the
house, his tail between his legs.

I opened the door to let Diesel in, and as I
slammed it shut I heard the senator yell. I looked out to see
Stripes, tail high, back end in the air, giving the man all he had.
Wallace stood frozen, hands over his mouth, absolute disgust in his
eyes, which were running with tears like there was no tomorrow.

“That’s it!” he yelled. “I’m taking care of
this once and for all!” He kicked out at Stripes, who trotted out
of range, and stomped over to the car. He had a gun in his hand
when he turned back to the house. “I’m going to pop a cap up your
fucking ass!” His voice was so high that my ears hurt listening to
him. He pointed the gun in the direction of the retreating skunk
and fired off a couple of rounds.

He turned toward the house, looked directly
in my eyes, and brought the gun up. I dropped to the ground and
crawled away. The first shot shattered the window in the kitchen
door, sending glass flying everywhere. I called the dogs to me, and
we scrambled across the kitchen floor as bullets thudded into the
house.

I sat at the bottom of the stairs, my back to
the wall, hugging the dogs to me. My heart was beating so fast I
couldn’t get enough air. The shooting had stopped. I expected
Wallace to burst through the door at any moment. Bile was rising
into my throat. Nothing happened. I strained my ears but I couldn’t
hear anything. I let go of the dogs and got up. I crept up the
stairs and sneaked down the hall to the bedroom overlooking the
porch.

Wallace had the trunk of his rental car open
and was rifling through the contents. I didn’t know what he was
searching for, but I was really hoping it wasn’t explosives. I dug
my cell phone out of my pocket and called Tom at the barracks. The
State Police may not be near enough for the troopers to get here
before Wallace left, but maybe they would catch him on the
road.

Whatever it was he was looking for, he didn’t
find it. He let out a yell of pure frustration and threw his gun at
my house. It thudded against the wall. Wallace took a couple of
deep breaths and, having calmed himself, got in the car and drove
away.

My knees shook as I stumbled back down the
stairs. I knelt down to look at Diesel. I slid my hands along and
under his jaw. He didn’t flinch, and there didn’t appear to be any
serious injury, but the next call I made was to my vet. That idiot
Wallace was going to be easy to catch.

Tom caught up with me at the veterinarian’s
office. Diesel had been x-rayed and found to be sound. He was
fussed over by the doctor and vet’s assistants when they heard what
had happened. When Tom came in, he had a huge grin on his face, and
I smiled in return.

“Did they get him?”

“Just like you thought. He took his rental
back to the airport stinking to high heaven. The rental agency
called the New Hampshire State Police. They caught up with him
arguing with the gate attendant at SWA. They weren’t going to let
him on board reeking of skunk regardless of what state he was
senator of.”

“What’ll happen to him?”

“I imagine he’ll be extradited to California.
After he serves that sentence, he can come back here and serve time
for attempted murder.”

“That would be good.” I gave Tom a hug and
loaded Diesel in the truck.

A wave of sadness hit me as I pulled into my
drive. My house was a mess. The sadness faded, and an intense
desire to hurt Senator Wallace hit me. He had ruined my home. I
surveyed the damage. Well, maybe it wasn’t trashed. The kitchen
door would have to be replaced along with some pieces of siding,
but other than that, it was still the same old house.

I got out of the car, let Diesel out and
walked over to the gun still lying in my flowerbed, the instrument
of Stripe’s demise. Proud of myself for remembering not to just
pick the thing up, I went onto the porch to find a rag or towel.
There's always stuff like that lying around. Not that I’m a slob,
but the dogs love to drag stuff out of the house.