by Gina LaManna
“You did?” I gaped at her. “From where?”
She glanced nonchalantly at her nails. “Ordered it online. Believe it or not, Blueberry Lake does have The Internet.”
“Get out of town.”
May barked a laugh. “Sit down, girlfriend. Ellen, can you work your magic? My cousin here needs to look fabulous for tonight.”
Ellen, a busty woman with a striking violet mohawk came across the room. I gulped. She cracked her knuckles and sized me up. Eventually, she pursed her lips.
“Not a problem, ladies,” she said finally. Then, she wrapped me in a shawl. “Hold on tight, Ms. McGovern. You won’t recognize yourself once I’m finished with you.”
Chapter 7
Half an hour later, my thighs were squeezed together with nerves. Most of my hair had survived the trimming Ellen had given my head, except for some quite dramatic layers she’d added. I glanced with concern at the long strands of hair on the ground before Ellen’s strong fingers gripped my chin and forcibly tilted my head away from the mirror.
“No looking,” she scolded. “Talk about something else if you’re nervous.”
“Um, okay,” I said. “Did you hear about the murder in Blueberry Lake?”
Ellen froze for a brief second at the abrupt change of subject, then relaxed and continued with my hair. “Yes, of course. Shania Boot—she worked here.”
“She did?” I deftly ignored May’s stare. “I’m pretty new around here. I live in the neighborhood where her body was found, but I’d never met her before. What a shame. A little scary, too.”
“Tell me about it,” Ellen said. “She was a friend of mine. I mean, we weren’t best buds, but we worked here together for a couple of years.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “That must be awful. And murder! How crazy. I lived in Los Angeles for most of my life, and I never encountered a murder.”
“It’s bizarre, especially since she was so nice.”
“Was she dating anyone? It must be awful for her significant other, too. I can’t imagine.”
“She was dating a guy. It was still pretty new, though,” Ellen said. “She went through a breakup a year ago or so that really shook her. It took the poor thing a long time to jump back in the saddle.”
“Wasn’t it that fellow from the auto shop?” a woman across the salon asked. “I thought she was dating a mechanic.”
“She was,” another woman said. “Chris Tucker. If you ask me—”
“Nobody asked you, Cheryl,” the first woman said. “We all know you hated Matt Bridges from the start.”
“I did not, Ramona,” Cheryl said. She brushed gray locks from her forehead while her hairdresser stared at the intrusion with a look of dismay. “I just think that people do better when they date someone local. Shania should have dated someone from Butternut Bay from the start.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ramona, a woman somewhere in her late fifties, appeared to be getting her hair dyed Elvis-black for probably the zillionth time. “Blueberry Lake and Butternut Bay are about an inch apart from one another on the map. They’re basically the same.”
“I’m just saying, romances between Butternut Bay and Blueberry Lake are cursed,” Cheryl said with a haughty sniff. “I’ve been with my Daryl for thirty-eight years. In no small part because we’re both from Butternut Bay and proud of it.”
“Yes—” May mouthed to me. “Daryl and Cheryl.”
I just raised my eyebrows. “So, this Chris Tucker is from Butternut Bay?”
Immediately the room when silent.
“She’s new around these parts,” Ellen said with a flick of her comb. “She doesn’t know.”
“Oh,” Cheryl and Ramona said in unison.
They gave each other a small glare. I sensed Cheryl and Ramona had a long-standing rivalry. Which could be helpful so long as they kept one-upping one another in an attempt to display who knew more information.
“Chris Tucker,” I said hurriedly. “Where does he work as a mechanic? Actually, I was just talking on the way here to a friend about buying a car. So, I actually could use a reference to a good place anyway.”
“Well, Chris just works down at the Butternuts and Bolts,” Cheryl said. “I don’t think they sell cars, but if you need something looked at, he could peek for you.”
“He’s a good kid,” Ramona said. “At least, he’s a good-looking kid. Then again, most of them good-looking ones turn out to be rascals.”
“Not Chris,” Cheryl said defensively. “He was perfect for Shania. They would’ve been married, mark my words.”
“That’s what we all thought about her and Matt,” Ramona said. “And look how that worked out.”
“What happened?” I jumped in before they could resume an argument. “Between her and Matt, I mean. Did something go wrong?”
“Something,” Cheryl said, her eyebrows raised as she glanced at Ramona. “Something went wrong alright.”
For the first time, the two women seemed in agreement.
“Any clue what it was?”
“We all have our theories,” Cheryl said. “I think Matt had his eye on someone else.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ramona countered. “He hasn’t dated anyone since! Hasn’t even been on any dates. He was just as heartbroken as her; he just didn’t say it.”
“Shania told everyone he broke up with her,” Cheryl said. “Why would he be heartbroken if he broke up with her?”
“Maybe she was lying,” Ramona said. “Maybe Matt is just such a gentleman he let everyone believe that he was the bad guy. Maybe it was Shania who had her eye on someone else.”
“Or maybe there was no one else,” I offered. Again, my contribution to the conversation seemed to bring the entire salon to a halting screech of silence. I shrugged as Ellen resumed combing my hair. “Maybe he just didn’t see them ending up together, so he broke things off. They could have both been sad about it.”
Cheryl and Ramona stared at me for a long while.
“That makes no sense,” Cheryl said finally. “If there wasn’t anything wrong, why break up?”
Ramona nodded in agreement. It seemed the only time the two ladies could agree was when I had something to say.
“Maybe that’s exactly it,” I said. “Nothing was wrong, but maybe it just wasn’t right either.”
“I think she might have a point.” May raised a finger, tossing me a life vest as she came to rescue me in the conversation. “That makes the most sense to me. I like both Matt and Shania as people. I can’t see either of them purposely hurting one another, so maybe they just decided it was time to call it quits.”
“Not Shania,” Cheryl argued. “She was ready to go ring shopping.”
May cocked her head to the side. “You do have a point. So, maybe it was Matt who couldn’t see himself marrying Shania?”
“Someone needs to talk to Matt,” I said. “And find out.”
Heads swiveled to face me again.
“Why is everyone looking at me?” I retorted.
“Because you’re new here, and you obviously like to talk,” Ramona said, while Cheryl nodded along once again. “You live over in Blueberry Lake. Why don’t you ask him? He hasn’t told any of us.”
“A good point,” May said unhelpfully. “Maybe you can ask him at the ball tonight.”
“Are you participating?” Cheryl asked. “Good for you.”
“I’m not, actually,” I said. “I mean—I’ll donate money, but I’m not prancing about on stage.”
I’d said the wrong thing again. Another silence followed.
“I just mean... I’m new here,” I stuttered. “I was thinking it would be best to sit the first one out and watch. Get a feel for things.”
“Good for you,” Ramona said. “I don’t do the prancing thing either.”
“I’m prancing,” May said. “And I’m married and pregnant. When else do I have the opportunity to prance?”
“I’m prancing,” Allie said. “Nothing wrong with
a good prance for charity.”
“Amen,” Cheryl said.
“Would Shania have participated?” I asked. “I know she’s from Butternut Bay, but—”
“No, she wouldn’t have,” Cheryl said. “She’d been avoiding Blueberry Lake like the plague. She went over there a few times after they broke up—I remember her saying they were trying to stay friends.”
“But that didn’t work,” Ramona said. “It got very awkward what with Matt being friends with everyone over in Blueberry Lake. Every time Shania was there, Matt would come up in conversation. It got to be too much, so she stayed over here.”
“Then she met Chris, and thank goodness, he’s homegrown from Butternut Bay,” Cheryl said. “So, she had no reason to be over there anyway.”
“If she had no reason to be over there, then how did they find her body in Blueberry Lake?” I blurted. “It didn’t look like she was killed somewhere else and dumped outside of Matt’s house, so she must have gone over for something.”
“Or someone,” May said. “Maybe she was meeting someone.”
“Maybe she was kidnapped,” Allie said. “And blindfolded and forced over to Blueberry Lake.”
“Maybe,” I said.
I’d have to finagle my way to a copy of the police report. Cooper hadn’t mentioned that there’d been any sign of a struggle outside of Matt’s house—except, of course, for the dead body.
But it would be helpful to know if there had been any sort of defensive wounds or indications that Shania had been restrained in any way. It could tell us whether she’d known her killer or whether she’d been forced to go along with him or her.
“How was her relationship with Chris?” I asked. “Had they been together for long?”
“They’re both locals,” Cheryl said. “They’ve known each other—or I should say, knew of each other—for quite some time. They finally got together about five months back?”
“Chris asked Shania out when she went in for a routine oil change,” Ramona said. “According to legend, he’d always thought she was pretty but had been too nervous to ask her out. Then she got going with Matt, and they were together for so long everyone assumed they’d get married.”
“When they didn’t,” Cheryl continued, “Chris knew he had to swoop in and take his chances with her. Otherwise, she’d get picked up by some other guy and he’d lose out for good.”
“That’s sweet,” I said. “Shania was popular, it seems?”
“She was a nice, pretty, available young woman of child-bearing age,” Cheryl said. “There aren’t that many of those kinds of women locally. The men have to act quickly. In fact, so do the women. There aren’t that many single men in that age range, either. All of the good ones get picked up by the eager women.”
“Are you calling me an eager woman?” May shot at Cheryl. “Just because I plucked Joe off the market early?”
“If that’s the case, then Cheryl’s as eager as they come,” Ramona said with a cheeky grin. “She plucked Daryl off the market the second they turned eighteen.”
Cheryl’s well-made-up face turned a bit pink beneath her foundation. “I knew what I wanted, and I went for it.”
“You hear that, Jenna?” May spoke to me but looked to Cheryl and Ramona. “I’ve been telling Jenna that she needs to get on with it—deciding who she wants to go out with. I’m not saying she has to get married, but these men in Blueberry Lake don’t stay single for long. Not the good ones.”
“Touché,” Allie said. “That’s probably why I’m still single.”
“Maybe,” Allie’s hairdresser said, patting her gently on the shoulder. “But with this new hairstyle, you’ll have your pick tonight.”
“Any problems in Chris and Shania’s relationship?” I asked.
“I already said, they’d have gotten married,” Cheryl said. “Shania was ready. She wanted a family. She felt like she wasted too much good time with Matt. I’m guessing Chris would’ve popped the question before next Christmas.”
“You can’t know that,” Ramona said. “The only person who knows that is Chris.”
“Guess I’ll have to stop by the mechanic shop and ask him,” I muttered to May.
“With what car?” May whispered back.
“Yours?” I gave her a sweet smile.
“I just got my oil changed last week,” she said. “And no, you’re not busting a lightbulb just to ask Chris Tucker a few questions.”
“Dang.” I frowned. But then another idea popped into my head. “Say, have you heard of Eddie who owns a sketchy car dealership near Sugarland Shores?”
“You bet,” May said. “Every broke kid buys their first car from Eddie. Parents turn their heads the other way. So do the cops. It’s beater car central. Nobody wants to give a sixteen-year-old new wheels, so Eddie takes care of that.”
“Any chance you could give me directions?”
May groaned. “I can guess where your head’s at, and it’s a bad idea.”
“How far do you think three hundred bucks will get me?”
May considered. “How do you feel about bullet holes?”
Chapter 8
The rest of the visit at the salon was disappointingly uneventful. The Shania, Matt, and Chris debacle settled down as first May, and then Allie, finished with their appointments. We all properly oohed and ahhed over their gorgeous updos while Ellen finished her work on me.
When I was done, even I let out an involuntary, “Oh.”
“Dang,” Allie said, striding over and fingering the tips of my hair. “You’re not leaving the rest of us a chance.”
“What are you talking about?” I said, dragging myself away from the mirror to face Allie. “I’m not going up on stage.”
“Oh,” Allie said, her eyes widening. “Right.”
“She just means you’ll steal the show,” May said, leaning over and elbowing Allie hard to the ribs. “Right?”
I frowned as I studied the two. They were hiding something. May had elbowed Allie only after I’d turned my head forward, but I’d caught sight of the gesture in the mirror. I quickly averted my eyes back to the study of my hair which, I had to admit, was quite voluptuous.
Ellen had added cascading layers to frame my face, magicking volume where I’d had a bit of sag before. She’d fluffed and curled the newly trimmed ends so they gracefully fanned my cheeks and chin, then drizzled down my back in soft, pretty waves. I touched my hair. It was as soft as a baby’s bottom.
“How’d you do it?” I gaped at Ellen. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“That I am,” Ellen said. “You’re welcome.”
I left a hearty tip as the other women filed to the front of the lobby. As I handed the money over to Ellen, another idea struck me. “Say,” I said. “We were talking about Shania’s love life so much, I forgot to ask about her work life.”
“What about it?” Ellen glanced down at the generous tip and smiled.
I could tell I’d softened her up. “Well, she was killed. Was there anyone she didn’t get along with around here?”
Ellen glanced around the shop. “I don’t know. I mean, all the ladies who work here are pretty decent friends. And I can’t picture any one of us doing... you know... that to her.”
“I didn’t necessarily mean colleagues,” I said quickly. “What about any disgruntled clients? Or maybe someone swung by and visited her? I don’t know, anything out of the ordinary.”
“Why are you so curious?”
“She died next door to me,” I said. “It sort of freaked me out. I was worried that I would be in danger. Maybe if I could find out why she was murdered, you know, if it were personal or something, then I could relax a bit. Especially if the killer was caught.”
Ellen nodded along. “That would freak me out, too. Well, I don’t know of anyone, but...”
I latched onto her hesitancy. “But?”
“But I did hear her on the phone the other day arguing with someone,” Ellen said. “It was probably a week
or so ago. I only know because I was supposed to take my lunch break after her. I went in at the scheduled time, and I guess I walked in on an argument.”
“Do you know who she was talking to?”
Ellen shook her head. “I just backed away and gave her a few minutes. When she came out, I asked her if everything was okay. She just nodded and rushed over to her next client. By the end of the day, I’d forgotten about it.”
“Thanks,” I said, making a mental note to track down Shania’s phone. “And thank you for this amazing hair style.”
“Drop them dead, girlfriend,” Ellen said. “You’ll be great.”
I gave her a thin smile, not bothering to correct her. I’d set enough people straight already about the fact that I wouldn’t be participating in the actual event. It was getting old.
I scooted out from the beauty shop and caught up with Allie and May.
“Ladies, ladies,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Anyone feel like giving me a ride back to Blueberry Lake?”
“I could,” May said, glancing at her watch. “But I have to stop by the restaurant first. If you don’t mind coming with me...”
“I can do it,” Allie said. “I’m going that way anyway. Plus, Jenna, you might want to check out my car. I got it from Eddie.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Nine hundred bucks,” she said. “It’s only broken down seven times.”
“How long have you had it?”
She considered. “Seven months.”
“Interesting,” I said. “Sure, thanks, Allie.”
“I’ll bring your dress over in a bit,” May said, giving me a squeeze. “Me, you, and Allie can get ready at your place, yeah?”
“Sure,” I said. “But if you want snacks, food, or coffee, you’ll have to bring them yourself.”
“You say that as if I don’t already know it,” May said with a wink. “You are my cousin, Jenna McGovern.”
Allie and I climbed into the car and pulled out of the parking lot behind May. Once she turned in the direction of her restaurant, I looked over to Allie.
“Your car’s not so bad,” I said. “It’s just a little... interesting.”