Died Blonde (11 page)

“You mean the landlord thought Carolyn was the only one paying on the lease?”

“Exactly, and this happened every month. She said I wasn’t paying my share of the rent. Carolyn, like, just wanted to push me out, so she discredited me to Mr. Thomson.”

“Dennis Thomson was your landlord?”

Peg’s lip curled into a snarl. “That man had the nerve to evict me, and I hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all Carolyn’s fault. She’d paid her part. Since her name was on the lease, he gave the shop solely to her.”

“What happened to your money?”

“Carolyn said she used it to equip the salon. Like, to buy shampoo bowls and such, you know? Plus it was her job to pay the utility bills, so she spent some of my cash on the telephone and electric.”

“Let me see if I understand correctly. You believed you were paying your share of the rent, yet Carolyn ended up using it to stock the salon and pay for utilities. Weren’t you supposed to split the cost of these items, too?”

“Well, sure, but I had no choice in anything she ordered. Look what it cost us before we even opened: six hundred and seventy dollars each for the stations, three hundred and fifteen for shampoo bottles, not to mention wallpaper, towels, and other supplies. I wasn’t going to pay for all the extras she wanted. Carolyn claimed I owed her for these things, but they stayed in her salon after I left. She owed me back my investment plus interest.”

“At some point you filed for small claims, right?”

“You got it. I wouldn’t let her steamroll me like that. I paid to open the shop same as her.”

It looks like you reneged on your part of the deal, if you didn’t contribute toward the overhead
. Regardless, it appeared as though Carolyn had taken advantage of her friend’s ignorance to seize control of the salon. “How did the case turn out?” Marla asked, trailing Peg back to her station.

“The judge, like, told her to pay me two thousand dollars. I felt that was grossly unfair, and even my mother said Carolyn got away with highway robbery. I think Carolyn ditched me because another player came along.” Donning a rubber glove, Peg began applying coloring to her customer’s roots. Marla waited patiently for another opening during the ensuing conversation between stylist and customer.

“You said Carolyn got involved with another player. How so? Did she acquire a silent partner?”

Peg shot her a sly glance. “All I know is, Atlas Boyd solved her money problems. I’m not sure they were actually partners in a business sense, if you know what I mean.” She winked. “But she seemed to do a lot better after he came along.”

“Who is this guy? Where can I find him?” Excited by this new lead, Marla couldn’t wait to act on it.

“I dunno. He’s some big-shot foreigner.”

Her heart pounded. “Carolyn sponsored foreign students at the Sunrise Academy of Beauty. Do you think he was involved?”

“Who knows and who cares? Carolyn paid the price for what she did to me, and that’s all that matters.” Turning her back on Marla, the stylist proclaimed her dismissal.

“Because she was killed?” Marla persisted. “Or because she paid you two thousand dollars?”

“She died for her sins, you dolt.”

“By whose hand?”

Peg whipped around. “You ask an awful lot of questions. I told the cops I had nothing to do with it, but I’m not going to cry over her grave. Like, that bitch stole my money, you know. She used the profits from our salon for personal gain without giving me any of the revenue. She got what she deserved.”

On the way home, Marla thought about her conversation with Peg Krueger. If Carolyn had been using salon profits for her own investments rather than putting them back into the business, that could account for her eventual decline. Had she used the money to buy Victorian jewelry, or to play bingo? Maybe she won enough cash at the casino to buy the baubles for herself. Marla needed to glean some idea about Carolyn’s winnings from the gaming hall. That necessitated a return trip to the Indian bingo parlor and another chat with Rosemary Taylor. Besides having a key to Carolyn’s place, Rosemary had known about the collection.

Carolyn had gotten cash flow from somewhere: first from her salon when it was profitable, a portion perhaps from bingo, then from a mysterious benefactor when her business faltered. Gripping the steering wheel and keeping her eyes on the road, Marla considered another alternative. Carolyn may have had a lover with generous pockets.

“Check out the man named Atlas Boyd,” Brianna told her later that evening when Marla swung by Vail’s house with takeout Chinese food. They sat in the kitchen eating from paper plates, and Marla had just filled in the teen on her recent progress.

“Peg seems to blame this guy for Carolyn’s betrayal,” Marla replied. “His name hasn’t come up before, which makes me wonder why not.”

Brianna gazed at her with serious brown eyes. “It’s possible no one else knows about him. He could be history.”

“I’ll ask Claudia if she’s met him. She’s one of Carolyn’s stylists,” Marla explained. “If Boyd is a foreigner, he could be the one who helped Carolyn bring in those French girls.”

“Then Peter McGraw might know about him. Daddy said the lawyer was involved with immigration stuff.”

“True.” Frowning thoughtfully, Marla bit into a steamed dumpling dipped in soy sauce.

“Daddy won’t tell me about his latest case. I know he’s afraid of scaring me since the girl was close to my age, but I heard about it in school. It’s horrible, but I’m glad she wasn’t anyone I knew.”

Marla nearly gagged on her food. “So am I, but it’s still frightening. I hope you always know to keep your doors locked and the alarm on when you’re home by yourself, and to be aware of who’s around when you get off the school bus.”

“Like Daddy has told me a hundred times.” Brianna thrust a forkful of lo mein noodles into her mouth.

From the way she chomped down, Marla could tell the girl was disturbed. Vail wouldn’t be unaffected by this new case, either. It was too close to home. She only hoped it wouldn’t keep him from pursuing Carolyn’s killer.

“He told me about the hair,” Brianna blurted, a noodle hanging down her chin. Avoiding Marla’s eyes, she slurped it up.

“Oh.” Wondering how to allay the teen’s fears, Marla tasted her beef-with-broccoli dish. The crunchiness of the vegetable melded with the tender meat.

“I can’t believe people made jewelry out of their dead relatives’ hair,” Brie continued. “That’s so gross.”

Marla heard her unspoken thoughts. Maybe someone was doing the same thing now, clipping pieces of hair from people he’d killed and keeping them as remembrances. But it didn’t make sense. How could a dead fourteen-year-old girl be related to the murdered Carolyn? And where did Carolyn’s missing collection fit in?

Vail strode through the door just before eight o’clock, and Marla didn’t delay her departure. She still had things to do at home before retiring.

“Anything new?” she asked him after giving him a quick kiss in the front hallway. Brianna, organizing her backpack in her room, talked so loudly on the telephone that they could hear her.

“I’d rather leave my work at the station tonight.” His smoky eyes regarded her with affection. “Thanks for keeping Brie company.”

“No problem.” She looked him over with concern. He didn’t hide his fatigue too well. Lines around his eyes had deepened; his five o’clock shadow had grown darker; his shoulders sagged. And his rumpled suit needed a fresh pressing. Discontented with her brief greeting, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly before nuzzling her neck. Although he was tempting her to stay, she knew he needed his rest.

Pushing him away, she spoke lightly. “Not tonight, honey. I’ve got to get home. Let’s touch base tomorrow to exchange information. I saw Peg Krueger today, and she told me something interesting.”

“Well, unless it’s urgent, I’m too tired to act on it, anyway.” He gave her a strained smile. “I wish you’d move in already. I hate you leaving like this.”

“We’ll talk about it,” she promised. “Oh, there’s one thing I wanted to mention. If we’re going to, uh, be together, what are we going to do about holidays? I mean, Rosh Hashanah is this month. We usually have a big family dinner. Would you feel terribly awkward if I wanted you and Brianna to go?”

His gaze warmed. “Would your family mind?”

“They wouldn’t have any say in it. My mother drags Roger to family events.”

“He’s Jewish.”

“So? Some of my cousins have married goyim.”

“I’ll talk about it with Brie, okay?”

“We’ve never really discussed traditions and how we’ll handle them,” Marla said. “I’ve never met your family. We could run into barriers we’re not expecting.” Anxiety made her words pour out.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, he regarded her steadily. “All relationships have obstacles to overcome. We’ll manage.” His reassuring kiss melted her doubts, reminding her she didn’t have to face things alone.

Vail’s watchful eyes guarded her back as she strode outside toward her car. Crickets sang their nightly chorus, piercing the moisture-laden air. In the distant sky, a jagged streak of lightning exposed a mass of towering cumulus clouds.

That’s nothing compared to the storm front that’s going to hit when I suggest Dalton sell his house
, she figured, dread sinking her stomach. It was one thing to consider which traditions of each other’s they’d respect; it was another to ask him to shift his life completely by moving. She’d have to bring it up sooner or later, because she couldn’t announce their engagement until they’d jumped this hurdle.

Dining with Brianna, she’d felt Pam’s presence emanating from the angel figurines and painted plates in their glass-fronted kitchen cabinet. While she could tolerate the ticking grandfather clock, she wouldn’t have chosen patterned fruit wallpaper or framed prints of wine and cheese. Never mind the claustrophobic feeling she got from the tiny window and garish fluorescent lighting. Imprinted with another woman’s personality, the house would never suit her, no matter how many crystals she wore or bowls of water she put out to deflect negative energy.

“So when are you going to talk to him about it?” Tally said on the phone when Marla called her after she got home.

“Who knows? He’s wrapped up in the case with this teenager. I don’t want to add to his burdens right now.”

“He’s always going to have a case that draws his attention,” Tally admonished. “Just as you leave work at the salon, he should leave his at the police station. It shouldn’t interfere in your personal life.”

“Oh, like your boutique doesn’t come between you and Ken?”

“He has his job; I have mine.”

“Maybe the pressure is what’s keeping you from getting pregnant.”

“That’s what he says, and I’ve told him to take a hike. I’m not giving up what it took me so long to achieve. You know how that goes. Would you give up your salon to have a child?”

Marla laughed. “What, me get pregnant? Are you kidding?”

“You never know where life will take you. You’re doing a bang-up job with Brianna. Maybe you’ll want to have Dalton’s baby some day.”

“
Oy vey
, I can just imagine myself with a squirming infant. Better you than me,” she said emphatically, considering all the things one had to worry about with a child. “Besides, I’d be a paranoid mother, scared of letting my kid do anything.”

“You’d be a wonderful mother,” Tally countered.

“I don’t think so. My brother Michael can fulfill those family obligations, thank you.”

“Ever since Tammy died, you’ve been striving to prove your worth. You’ve set yourself on a career track, become self-reliant, and given your time to prevent similar tragedies. If that’s not enough to satisfy you, maybe bringing new life into the world is what you need to cleanse your soul.”

“My soul needs more freedom, not less. I want to travel, maybe finish my college degree, expand my salon services. I’d rather be godmother to your baby. Is Ken really giving you a hard time?”

It was a long moment before Tally answered. “I’m beginning to feel he may have been happier with the stay-at-home type. It was okay for me to work before we wanted a family, but now his attitude has changed. His mother doesn’t help the situation. She nags us for grandchildren.”

“How does she feel about your shop?”

“She loves to bring her friends there and get a discount, but she’s blaming me for not conceiving.”

“And the fertility tests show nothing is wrong, if I recall. Are you feeling okay otherwise? I mean, you have no underlying health problems, right?”

“None that I’m aware of. You sound worried.”

“Wilda the medium said someone close to me needs to see a doctor. I can’t imagine who it is, although my mother’s blood pressure has been bothering her, and my aunt’s mental functions are deteriorating. Then I got anxious about you. Of course, Wilda could be spinning tales, but you never know.”

“Well, don’t be nervous on my account; I’m fine. When can I meet your psychic?”

“I’d rather you accompany me back to the bingo hall. I have more questions to ask Rosemary Taylor.”

“How about if I give you a call when I have a free night?”

“That sounds like a plan. Meanwhile, I want to find out more about Atlas Boyd.”

During a break in her routine on Tuesday, Marla ventured over to Hairstyle Heaven. Expecting to see Wilda at the front desk, she was surprised to find instead a strange young woman with a nose ring and tattoos covering her slim arms.

“That’s ninety-eight dollars, please,” the insipid brunette told a client. “Marcy said your hair was sixty-five dollars, with another fourteen for the anti-frizz product.”

“What?” the middle-aged woman exclaimed. “Sixty-five plus fourteen equals seventy-nine dollars. Are you naturally math deficient, or are you trying to cheat me?”

“Let me see.” Scribbling the numbers on a scrap of paper, the receptionist kept adding and crossing out figures. “Oh, all right, whatever.”

After the irate customer left, the clerk gave Marla a loopy grin. “Hi, I’m Bunny. May I help you?”

Marla tore her gaze from the silver stud poking from the girl’s nose. “I’m Marla Shore, owner of Cut ‘N Dye Salon. Is Wilda here?”

“She won’t be in today, miss. I’m the new temp she hired.”

Spotting Claudia at her station, Marla waved. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with Claudia. She asked for my help when the previous owner passed away, and I’d like to know if everything is okay.”

Sticking a piece of chewing gum in her mouth, the girl nodded. Marla marched away, grateful she’d found Luis to man her front desk. She passed Lisette’s station, smiling when she caught a snippet of dialogue.

“I’ve been thinking of getting my hair permed,” a customer with stick-straight blond hair said. “But can I do highlights, too? And in what order?”

“
Oui
, madame. You should do the perm first, then add color a week later or more. Be aware that the bleach in highlights may straighten your curl.”

Lisette, blowing out the woman’s shoulder-length hair, nodded a greeting to Marla. “
Merci beaucoup
for your help, mademoiselle. Things are better now.”

Not with that birdbrain up front
. “May I suggest you girls collect your own money?” Marla said to Claudia over the drone of blow-dryers, blaring radio music, and chatter. Business didn’t seem to be hurting any. Rather than the notion displeasing her, she was glad the stylists were still able to earn a living despite their changed circumstances.

Claudia, checking her customer’s hair-growth direction before doing a cut, glanced at her. “Madame Cleaver is pretty much letting us do our own thing, but Bunny is a joke.” She pulled a comb out of her Barbicide jar, then proceeded to partition sections of hair. “
Mon dieu
, I am not sure what will become of us.”

“What do you mean?”

“Carolyn Sutton is listed as our employer on our documents, but our situation has altered. I fear we will have to leave.”

“Leave the salon, or leave the country?” Marla guessed.

Claudia shot her a wary look. “I am not supposed to talk about it.”

“On whose orders?”

Claudia’s mouth compressed. Picking up a pair of shears, she waved them in the air. “You have been very helpful, and you have our gratitude, but we do not care to jeopardize our position.”

“Does this involve Peter McGraw, the attorney? I understand he does immigration work, plus he did Carolyn’s will.”

“
Non
, you do not understand.” Turning her attention to her customer, Claudia blatantly ignored Marla while she snipped the woman’s short gray hair.

Marla sauntered over to Jeanine, who she spotted smoking a cigarette by the open back door. Of course, they wouldn’t be concerned about the air-conditioning bill now that Wilda was responsible for the overhead.

“Hi,” she said to the hairdresser whose dramatic black hair contrasted sharply with her pale complexion. “I’m just checking on how things are going. Is everything okay with your visa status?”

The girl’s brown eyes widened. “That is not for me to say, mademoiselle.”

“Claudia seems concerned. She’s afraid you’ll be forced out. Is the attorney giving you trouble?” Marla wrinkled her nose as a choking ring of smoke permeated her nostrils. Stepping upwind, she resisted the urge to fan herself.

Jeanine didn’t seem to notice her avoidance tactic. “Monsieur McGraw is on our side. It is the landlord who troubles us. He had a special relationship with our boss lady, you see? Without her here, he may decide to close the place.”

“Dennis Thomson had something going with Carolyn?”

“He came to see her a lot lately. You can tell when a man and woman have secrets,
non
?”