Paige’s jaw dropped but she snapped it shut. The recipe had said three drops was enough to have an effect, and Roberta had swallowed way more than that. For a second, Paige didn’t know what to do and thought about getting Lucy. But then, she decided it could be a good idea to test the potion before trying it on Officer Burns. She thought fast. “I read a fascinating magazine article yesterday. It was about exotic dancers in Comfort Cove.” She hesitated and then went for it. “Would you ever consider doing that?” She held her breath, wondering what would happen.
Roberta scoffed and waved a hand. “No way. I’d never do that. What would my family think? Heavens!” She bustled around the kitchen, putting things in the dishwasher and wiping down the counter.
Paige busied herself putting the potion through a funnel into the Mason jar, watching Lucy’s assistant out of the corner of her eye. She reserved a tiny bit of liquid, which she poured into a separate small vial. She stored the rest in the back of the overflowing refrigerator.
After a few minutes, Roberta’s hands slowed, and a thoughtful look appeared on her face. She glanced at Paige. “How much does that exotic dancing pay?”
“Oh, a lot, I think. The article said you could make a thousand dollars a night on the weekends.” Paige pulled the figure out of thin air.
Roberta abandoned the washcloth altogether. “Does it take a lot of training?”
Paige shrugged. “Maybe a few dance lessons. Not much.”
Roberta pursed her lips. “Hmm. Do you think there’s a demand here?”
It was clear to Paige that the potion worked. She didn’t think there was any way Roberta would consider the career otherwise, and Paige began to worry the woman may actually pursue it. She looked at her watch. “Oops. I have an appointment. Can we talk about this later?” She scooted toward the door.
Roberta appeared disappointed but nodded. “Okay. See you later.”
Paige made a mental note to return later and tell Roberta some made-up fact about how exotic dancing was a terrible idea. She didn’t want to be responsible for shaking up someone’s life or for making Lucy lose a fantastic assistant. Still, she smiled to herself. One thing was for sure—the Mind Widening potion worked. And Officer Wally Burns was about to experience its positive effects.
THE OFFICER AT THE front desk in the police station was a woman Paige recognized. She’d been one of the people working under Scott when the owner of Candlestick Park died on the Ferris wheel. Recognition dawned in her face too, and she smiled and greeted Paige with a friendly tone. “Are you here to see your brother? He went out to lunch.”
Paige shook her head. She’d never caught the officer’s name and peered at the nametag on her shirt. It said A. Colt. “Actually, I need to talk to Officer Burns if he’s around.”
Officer Colt rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah. Of course he’s here. He doesn’t leave unless he absolutely has to. But you might have to wait awhile. He’s eating his lunch, and he likes to take his time.” She rested a hand on the pistol in her belt.
“If you don’t mind taking me to where he is, I’m pretty sure he’ll want to talk to me.” Paige’s hand subconsciously went to her purse that held the vial of Mind Widening potion.
Colt shrugged. “I’m game. Come on.” She led Paige down a short hall, past Scott’s office, and into a bigger room that was obviously shared by several cops.
Four desks stood in the open area, like four points of a square. Burns sat behind the messiest desk, eating a sandwich. An open bag of chips sat in front of him, along with a sixty-four-ounce plastic cup and a small pile of cookies.
Colt nodded at Paige, spun on her heel, and left.
Paige approached the big man, who hadn’t taken off his cowboy hat to eat. She sat in the chair opposite him. “Hey, Officer Burns. I wondered if I could bend your ear for a couple minutes.” She slipped the vial of potion out of her purse and clenched it in a fist.
He didn’t bother finishing his bite and swallowing before he answered. “It’s not a good time, miss. I’m having my lunch, and it’s not good for the gut to eat and talk at the same time.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Try back another time.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. You do your digesting.” She got to her feet clumsily, managing to sweep a hand in the right direction to knock his bag of chips onto the floor. “Oopsie. Look what I did. So sorry about that.”
Burns leaned over to retrieve the chips, his face reddening almost instantly as his ample paunch interfered with the proper workings of the diaphragm. He swiped at the bag like a bear at a log covered in honey.
Paige deftly dripped some potion into the man’s plastic cup and then stuck her hands, one with the vial in it, in her jeans pockets.
When Wally finally straightened up, put the chips on the desk, and sat breathing heavily, Paige swiped a chip and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm. These are great,” she said around it. “Salty, though. Makes me thirsty.” She wiped her hands on her pants. “I’ll do what you said and come back later. But, man, I need a big frosty cup of tea first. Is there a vending machine here, or . . .” She widened her eyes a little and tried to look dangerously parched.
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “In that hallway.”
“Thanks. Don’t those chips make you thirsty? I’m just dry as a pack of chalk.” She laughed and headed out the door the way he’d indicated. She dodged around the corner and counted slowly to thirty before heading back in. She cheered mentally when she saw Burns was just lowering his cup. He’d taken a drink!
“There was no tea in there,” she said as she returned to the office. “But I found a drinking fountain, so I’m good to go.” She took a few steps toward the exit and paused. “You know, what I wanted to tell you about was a few things I learned about Peggy Jenkins. You interested?”
He nodded so hard his jowls flapped. “Sure, young lady. I’d love to hear what you got. Why don’t you just tell me now. I can do my digesting later.”
Paige grinned and returned to the desk, sinking into the chair. “I witnessed an argument between Peggy and Donna Dayton the day before Peggy died.”
“Did you now?” He leaned forward, beady eyes fixed right on her face.
“Yep. Donna accused Peggy of stealing beauty shop clients.”
“Did Peggy argue back?” He fumbled on his desk for a pad of paper, sending the chips tumbling to the floor again.
“She denied stealing the clients and suggested Donna work harder at keeping hers happy,” Paige said. “And Donna says she didn’t have any morning clients and slept late the morning Peggy was killed, but I heard a woman saying Donna had canceled an eight a.m. appointment with her that day.”
Burns clunked back heavily in his chair. “Her alibi’s holey,” he muttered.
Paige nodded. “Donna’s pointing the finger at Peggy’s nephew, Jordy,” she continued. “And I heard others sounding suspicious of him too. He lived with Peggy and mooched off her money and belongings. Plus, when I went by there to give my condolences, he was already packing up Peggy’s things.”
Burns’s eyes narrowed. “Not missin’ his auntie, eh?”
“Not really, no. He told me he expects to inherit Peggy’s estate, and that includes a really nice house, a yacht, and a Mercedes.” Paige leaned back in her chair to let Burns know she was finished. She wasn’t ready to mention Peggy’s side business yet. It was just too vague, and she wanted to dig up more information on it first.
Burns slapped his thighs and lumbered to his feet. “Well, it sounds like I got me two more witnesses to interrogate. Just as soon as I visit the little boys’ room.”
Paige waited for his footsteps to fade down the hallway and then pulled out the vial of Mind Widening potion. She dripped a few more drops into his cup. It wouldn’t hurt for him to keep an open mind while he questioned Donna and Jordy.
As she headed out of the office, Paige smiled to herself. She’d managed to get Burns off Sarah’s tail, at least for the short term. Hopefully, it would be long enough f
or Paige to figure out what Peggy Jenkins’s side business had been. She had a strong feeling that if she managed to do that, she would also uncover the identity of the hairdresser’s real killer.
Chapter 12
“Officer Burns just left the salon,” Sarah said. Her words were muted, as though she spoke into the phone while cupping her mouth behind a hand.
Paige settled onto the stool behind the counter at Beachside Books, cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear. “Did he talk to Donna?”
“Yes, he took her outside. They were gone maybe ten minutes, and she came back in.”
Paige smiled at Emma, who had just returned from the storeroom where she’d turned the shop’s stereo system over to Christmas music. To Sarah, Paige said, “Did she look upset when she came back in?”
“Not really. She said that Burns asked her where she was the morning Peggy was killed, and she told him. She said he seemed to be satisfied. She said she told him if he wanted to question someone about the murder, he should talk to Jordy.”
Paige wondered if Donna had given Burns the same alibi about sleeping in or a different, more plausible one. “At least Burns is holding off on arresting you.” She decided it would be a good idea to talk to Donna again. Maybe she could discover what alibi she’d given Burns or press her on the one she’d used with Paige.
“Hold on a second. Something’s happening.” Sarah must have dropped her hand from around the receiver because Paige could hear voices from the salon. She bit her lip, hoping Burns hadn’t returned to arrest Sarah after all.
Rustling over the phone line preceded Sarah’s voice. “I’m back. Donna got a phone call and seemed upset when she hung up. She begged someone to take her last two appointments because there was something she had to go do. Karen took one, and I took the other.”
Paige’s curiosity was piqued. “I thought she was hard up for money and needed every appointment she could get.” Yet, there Donna was, canceling two more appointments in addition to the one the morning Peggy died. That didn’t make any sense. “What does Donna’s car look like?”
“It’s a white older model Monte Carlo, I think. And it has a pink bumper sticker that says ‘Hairdressers know style.’”
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Paige hung up and grabbed her purse and hurried around the counter toward Emma. “Can you watch the shop while I run out for a little bit?”
“Sure, honey. I’m happy to help.” Emma smiled sweetly.
Luckily, Terrific Tresses was just around the block from Beachside Books, and Paige pulled around the corner just as the white Monte Carlo pulled onto the street going the opposite direction. Paige was grateful for the good luck. She eased off the gas, trying to stay far enough behind Donna’s car that it wouldn’t attract the hairdresser’s attention.
The Monte Carlo rolled through a yellow light, and Paige groaned, braking to a stop. She bounced in the seat. “Come on, come on,” she urged the light while keeping her gaze on the white car. It turned a corner after two blocks. As soon as the light turned green, Paige stepped on the gas, and her car’s engine roared as she hurried to get to the turnoff. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted the Monte Carlo ahead but then had to ease way back off the gas pedal. Donna hadn’t made it far—her car sat at a red light a block down.
Paige poked along, not wanting to pull up directly behind Donna. A car horn made her jump and she jerked her eyes to the rearview mirror. A man in a red, rusted pickup truck was so close to her bumper it almost felt like he sat in her back seat. He shook a fist, clearly upset with how slow she was going. Paige turned the wheel and pulled into a parking lot to let the hurried man go by. She whipped her car around but had to wait for three other cars to go by before she could pull onto the street again.
“What in the world?” The food festival must have grown in popularity in the past few years. Comfort Cove didn’t usually have much traffic, especially downtown. It was Murphy’s law that everyone would decide to get on the road right when Paige wanted to tail someone.
By the time she was able to pull out, Paige had lost sight of the Monte Carlo. Holding her breath as she approached the next light, Paige sped through on yellow, thankful to have shed two of the cars in front of her as they turned onto different streets. She drove slowly, craning her neck this way and that in an attempt to spot Donna’s white car.
Nothing. Where had she gone? Paige debated whether she should spin around and backtrack. Maybe she’d missed seeing Donna in a parking lot or something. Then she caught a flash of white out of the corner of her eye and jerked the wheel hard toward it, squealing around a corner. Too late, she realized it was a Toyota and not a Chevy. She was following the wrong car.
“Aargh,” she cried, looking around wildly. “I lost her.” She slowed to around ten miles per hour, scanning the area. She rolled past a huge oak tree and suddenly, there was the Monte Carlo parked on the side of the road. Her view of it had been blocked by the tree, but as she passed, Paige could see Donna facing the street. Paige ducked as low as she could while still being able to see over the dashboard. But the hairdresser was looking at her phone, not up at the street. Donna hadn’t spotted her.
Paige drove another block and pulled into a parking lot to watch Donna. After a few minutes, the hairdresser put her phone away and pulled back onto the street. Paige ducked again as the white car rolled past and then she peeked over the dashboard. As soon as it seemed like Donna was far enough away not to notice, Paige pulled out behind her, about five car lengths back.
They traveled to the outskirts of town, and Paige recognized the Dry Dock Motel as Donna pulled in and parked in the corner of the lot furthest from the building.
Paige slumped down in the seat again as she drove in and turned left, away from Donna. She parked on the other side of the lot, using a dumpster to give her a bit of a shield. Turning the car off, she leaned forward to see what Donna was doing. The hairdresser had a pair of binoculars in her hands and had them aimed at the motel.
Paige had never stayed in the Dry Dock, but she knew the place had a reputation for being seedy. It rented out rooms by the month, week, night, or hour. What was Donna doing there? And why the binoculars? Was she working as a private investigator?
Time ticked by, and nothing happened. Donna sat staring through the binoculars. Paige watched the time on her car’s clock and got progressively more antsy until she felt like bouncing right out of her seat. After fifteen minutes, she decided enough was enough and got out.
She marched over to Donna’s car, realizing as she went that it hadn’t been necessary to hide from the woman. Donna didn’t even see Paige walk across the lot and up to the Monte Carlo. When Paige knocked on the passenger side window, the woman jumped so high it was a wonder she didn’t hit her head on the car’s headliner.
Donna punched the unlock button, and Paige climbed into the Monte Carlo. It was neat but smelled like stale cigarette smoke and cinnamon from the air freshener hanging on the rearview mirror. Donna must have hung it to try and cover up the cigarette smell, but cinnamony cigarette was even worse.
“What are you doing here? Did you follow me?” The binoculars sat in Donna’s lap. She pinned Paige with an incredulous gaze.
“Yeah, I did,” Paige said matter-of-factly. Donna started to bluster about that being illegal, or at least immoral, but Paige cut her off. “I know you lied about sleeping in the morning Peggy was killed. That customer came into the salon and said you canceled an appointment with her at eight in the morning. What’s going on?”
Donna’s indignant expression transformed almost instantly into an embarrassed one, and her shoulders slumped. Suddenly, she looked exhausted. She held up the binoculars. “I’m spying on my cheating husband.”
Paige got the feeling from Donna’s tone that it was the first time the woman had said the words out loud, and it seemed to cost her. Tears floated in her eyes, and she brushed at them with a jerky motion.
“We’re going throug
h a difficult divorce. He’s got a much better lawyer than I do, and I’m getting the feeling I may lose everything.” Her gaze moved toward the motel. “If I can prove he’s been cheating, maybe I can convince him to give me the house. That’s all I want. Just my house so I’m not homeless. If I can get that, I think I can make it.” Her voice quavered. “That’s what I was doing Wednesday morning.”
Paige’s gut clenched. She felt the emotion coming off the hairdresser in strong waves, and the woman’s aura was clear and shimmery. Her words felt truthful, and Paige felt horrible for the poor woman. She wanted to give Donna a hug, but it seemed like it would be too awkward in the car. Instead, she decided to move away from the sensitive topic. “Why are you so convinced that Jordy Jenkins had something to do with his aunt’s death?”
Donna glanced at Paige before putting the binoculars to her eyes and studying the motel again. “Because of the way he treated her. I heard the way he spoke to her—like she was his servant. Like he was entitled to her stuff just for existing.” Donna shook her head. “Pathetic.”
Paige nodded and watched the motel too. She wondered what she’d do if Donna’s husband came out and the hairdresser confronted him. Paige wasn’t prepared to find herself in the center of someone else’s big emotional confrontation. “Is there anyone else you can think of who may have wanted Peggy gone?”
Donna lowered the binoculars and a wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows. She pursed her lips and sat in silence for a moment. Then she said, “You know, I was always a little suspicious of Peggy’s relationship with Zach Goodyear.”
“Who’s that?” Something about the name rang a bell in Paige’s mind, but she couldn’t nail down the thought.
“He hangs out on the beach a lot. And he was one of Peggy’s clients at the salon.” Donna pulled a pack of gum out of the center console, took a stick, and offered one to Paige.
Meatballs, Mistletoe and Murder Page 8