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Hair Calamities and Hot Cash.

Page 14

by Gail Pallotta


  “I didn’t look at them too closely.”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from asking if one had red hair and the other blond. “What’d they say?”

  “One of ‘em said Philip traveled all the way here to see Mr. Jacobsen, and the old dude went out of town.”

  My heart accelerated. Had Angel given us a lead?

  She smiled big. “I’m so glad you’re going out with him.”

  “Thanks.”

  My head swirled with thoughts of thieves as Missy entered with a spring in her step. “Good morning.”

  A striking woman with hazel eyes and olive skin, Missy ran five miles three times a week and sported a school-girl figure. She’d married Kirby Longman, one of the wealthiest men in Triville. Most recently she spent her time working for charities here and in Misty Gorge.

  “Hi, what are we doing today?” I wandered over to the shampoo bowl, and she sat down in the chair.

  “If you have time, I’d like an up-do.”

  “Sure. Do you want to choose from the hairstylist magazine?”

  “Just a French twist.”

  Whew. I’d wind that up quickly. I leaned her back and performed my ritual. Then she walked to the first styling station.

  “How’s little Ryan? I bet he’s grown since the last time I saw him.” I combed through her locks.

  “Yes, he’s walking now.”

  I picked up the hair blower.

  “I nearly lost him in the drugstore.”

  The drugstore. I perked up. Had she seen the men? I couldn’t remember when there’d been so much talk of strangers in town out of tourist season.

  “Scared me to death when I looked down and he was gone. I finally found him in the back of the store playing with a stuffed sheep. Kids must have an invisible antenna that leads them to toys.”

  “Thank goodness, you found him.”

  “I’d been concentrating so hard on the wrinkle removers I didn’t see where he went. I was asking myself if I wanted a moisturizer with or without an SPF. Then I noticed one with skin toner and yet another with an anti-gravity agent.” Missy giggled. “I wasn’t sure if I was more dry, wrinkled, or saggy.”

  I laughed. “You’re much too young for wrinkled or saggy, and you look fantastic. I heard someone in there was talking about Philip Wells and Mr. Jacobsen. Did you catch that conversation?”

  “I completely forgot. You’ve been dating Philip, haven’t you?”

  “Yes.” I put down the hair blower and brushed the tangles out of Missy’s hair.

  “Now that you mention it, two men discussed them. One of them said Mr. Jacobsen lives on top of a mountain. Who doesn’t know that? He asked the other where Philip was staying, and the guy said Philip was at the Triville Motel. Is that right?”

  I held in a gasp. “Yes. When were you in the drugstore?”

  Missy touched her forefinger to her lips. “A couple weeks ago.”

  My breath quickened, and I sucked in air as I started winding Missy’s hair in the twist. “What did they look like?”

  Missy bit her bottom lip. “I don’t recall. Actually, I don’t think I saw them face to face. I remember catching Philip’s name in a conversation as I looked for Ryan. It registered with me because I know he’s here to see Corley, and that you’ve been dating him.”

  Heat pricked my cheeks. Did no one realize Philip would soon be gone, and I’d be left here alone? Even if they didn’t, the important thing now was to find that money. “Did you hear them say anything else, or did they mention where they were staying?”

  “No, why?” Missy’s voice sounded confused.

  “I just wondered if they’re someone Philip met at the motel, or if they’re here from New York.”

  “Oh. Sorry, I don’t know.” Missy seemed satisfied with my explanation.

  Two people may have seen the thieves, and I’d gotten so little information from them. A silent scream echoed in my head as I sprayed Missy’s hair. A sweet-smelling mist fell around us as I gave her the hand mirror and swiveled her chair. Could Philip hang out at the drugstore, put the place under his surveillance, and follow the criminals from there?

  Missy smiled while gazing at the up-do. “I have to make a speech in Misty Gorge this evening. This is perfect.” She stood, smoothed the wrinkles out of her brown skirt, gave me her payment, and left.

  I grabbed the broom and swept to calm my nerves and ease the irritation that nagged me for not being able to learn more.

  The door opened.

  “Come in.” I darted to the back, put away the broom, and hurried up front.

  Janie Wannmaker carried a green, soft-shell cooler, her long, auburn hair a mess with split ends. “How’s it goin’?”

  “I’m having a great day.”

  Janie often needed to rush back to the office to assist her husband, Donnie, our mayor. When she was young she loved helping her mother in her flower shop, but she’d given up her passion to work as Donnie’s secretary.

  “When you finish my permanent, it’ll be lunchtime. I thought we could have a bite to eat before you style my hair.” She held up the container.

  “How kind of you. I’ll deduct it from your price.”

  “Absolutely not. I can’t remember all the times you’ve given me a soft drink.” Janie glanced toward the back of the shop. “I thought I’d bum one off you today.”

  “Sure. I’ll grab it while your permanent sets.” In no time I zipped through washing, conditioning, and rinsing.

  She stood, went to the hairstyling station, and took the chair closest to the back.

  I finished parting off the sections, rolling up the curlers, and squirting each with solution by eleven o’clock. “I’ll be right back with your drink.” I patted her shoulder then dashed to the supply closet, snatched a beverage from the bottom shelf, and returned.

  Philip stood in the middle of the room.

  I nearly dropped Janie’s drink. What was he doing here?

  “Could I get a haircut?”

  I pulled the soda tight against my chest, glanced at the clock, and then back at Janie.

  Her eyes lit up as she held out her hand. “I’ll take that. You tend to him.”

  He peered at me with his sad puppy look.

  “All right.” I motioned toward her. “This is Janie Wannmaker.”

  They exchanged greetings then Philip situated himself in the shampoo bowl seat and leaned back. I wet his hair and added the creamy liquid. The warmth from his head triggered my memory of us in the river at the Western Hills Festival, and I wished he would hold me again. I rubbed circles around his temples.

  “I got nothing at the diner this morning. Have you heard anything?” he whispered.

  His voice brought me to the moment. I wanted to talk to him about the drugstore, but I couldn’t in front of Janie. My hands flew around his head as I scrubbed. “Not really, but I have one thing to mention.”

  He sat up while I towel-dried his hair. Then he stepped to the salon chair, plopped down and met my gaze in the mirror, his brow furrowed. “Somebody in this town knows what’s going on. This is day two. What did you find out? I’ll go back to the diner and stay until those thieves show. Then I’ll follow them. They’ll be sorry they stole anything from me.” Philip’s entire body tensed.

  He might do something foolish and get hurt as keyed up as he was, or worse yet…my heart beat like a jackhammer. “No. Wait. We’ll do this together.”

  Janie glanced toward us.

  “Yes. I think everybody loves the daisies in the park this year.” This was the last place to discuss anything private.

  He jerked his head, and I nearly nicked his neck. “Sit still.”

  “Sorry. Why are you talking about flowers?”

  I leaned over and flipped his bangs. “How short do you want these?” I pinched him on the shoulder and whispered, “Later.”

  “Ouch. Fine. Uh, just trim them if you don’t mind.”

  Philip’s distraught look wrenched my heart. Even
if I couldn’t see him after he left, I vowed to find those thieves. I finished his haircut, and he stood and pulled his billfold out of his back pants pocket.

  “Oh, you. Treat me tonight at dinner.”

  “It’s a deal. What time?”

  “Eight o’clock. I’m working late.”

  “See ya’ then.”

  Philip strode outside as Janie’s buzzer sounded.

  She stood and charged to the shampoo bowl. “I’m glad that part’s done. I always hate the smell.”

  “Ah, but it’s worth it. You’ll look gorgeous.”

  I applied the neutralizer, rinsed her hair, and patted it dry.

  She rubbed her stomach. “Now for the fun part. I’m starving. Can you style and blow my hair after lunch?”

  “Sure. Let’s eat in the kitchen.” I had to block Philip’s problem from my mind and tend to my customer. Any other day I’d have nothing else to do and would welcome the company, especially one who brought lunch.

  But now I worried about Philip. He’d be all right if he returned to the diner. But what if he saw the red head and the blond and trailed them on his own?

  A shiver ran up my spine as Janie and I left the shop. We crossed the pebble driveway and grassy patch of yard to the porch. I opened the front door and tried not to worry about Philip.

  “It’d be nice if Donnie had given me the day off, but I have to answer all the emails before I leave tonight. You’d think I was the mayor.” Janie chuckled as we followed the hallway to the kitchen.

  The coffee pot sat in the sink, my empty cup where I’d left it on the counter this morning. I snatched it up, wiped off the table, and swung open the fridge door. “Let me see, I’ll contribute strawberries.”

  Janie pulled a straight chair out from the table and plopped down as I set a couple plates. Then I joined her and poured a fizzing soda into her glass as she opened the cooler and handed me a sandwich.

  “Pimento cheese, one of my favorites.”

  She swallowed. “Uh-huh, mine too. Tell me about Philip.”

  “There’s not much to say. He’s passing through town.” My heart flip-flopped hoping he was safe and sound.

  “Yeah, I heard he landed a large brokerage account with Corley Jacobsen. The way that old dude stays to himself, I’m amazed he’d do business with anyone. Philip must be quite a guy.” Janie picked up a strawberry and popped it in her mouth.

  Yes, he was, but I could barely focus on Janie’s hairdo for agonizing about Philip’s situation, let alone discuss him. “He is.”

  “Mr. Jacobsen doesn’t trust banks. No telling where he keeps his money. It could be buried in the backyard.”

  A soft snort escaped my nose as I nearly choked on my soft drink.

  “Everyone’s gossiping about them, but Mr. Jacobsen’s so tight-lipped. No one knows Philip well enough to comment on his affairs.” Janie wiped her mouth. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. Of course, I’m not sure they ever do.” She laughed.

  Why must Janie talk about Philip and the money? My nerves shifted into high gear for fear he would stop at nothing to recoup the million dollars. I forced a weak chuckle at Janie’s joke. Had she heard something that would lead Philip and me to the thieves? “I don’t have anything to add, but I’m interested in hearing the latest.” I nibbled on the last of my sandwich and swallowed.

  “Nothing concrete. Everyone’s speculating on how much money Corley will invest and whether or not he’ll give Philip cash.”

  I couldn’t breathe. Wondering and actually knowing something were two different things. So far everything she’d said was mere conjecture.

  Janie sipped her drink. “Some are asking how long Philip will stay here.” Janie tilted her head. “I figured you’d know that.”

  I nearly jumped out of my skin for wanting to get back to the shop and drop this subject. “Not really.” I picked up our trash and tossed it in the garbage can.

  Janie flashed me a sheepish grin as she brought the dishes to the sink. “It’s not every evening couples go to Frank’s General Store to weigh after hours.”

  I buried my head in my hands and shook it, but it didn’t make the embarrassment go away. I looked up. “That entire incident was a big misunderstanding.”

  “Uh-huh.” Janie patted me on the shoulder. “I’m just teasing.” She sat down and peered at me with a distant look in her eyes. “I still remember the day you and Jordan married. I can see him smiling as though he’d won the lottery standing at the altar waiting for you.”

  My knees nearly buckled.

  “I think Jordan fell in love with you in grammar school. You were blessed to have someone who adored you.”

  “I was crazy about him too. He was my whole life.” I fought back tears.

  “I understand. What happened to him was so tragic, but do you know what he’d want more than anything?”

  How could she possibly know what Jordan would want? “I have an idea you’ll tell me.”

  “He’s watching from above and he’d much rather see you enjoying yourself than looking sad.”

  She was right. She made it sound so simple.

  “Give Philip a chance. He seems like a great guy.”

  The necklace Jordan gave me hung heavy around my neck. I fingered it. “I do think a lot of Philip, but after his business with Mr. Jacobsen, I may never see him again.”

  “People’s plans change. Even if Philip is just passing through town, when he leaves maybe he’ll take you with him.”

  “That’s what Ellie said. I’ve never lived anywhere but Triville. I don’t think I could leave.”

  Janie stiffened her jaw. “You could if it meant you would be with someone who loved you, and you loved him. Don’t shut any doors.”

  Aggravation tingled on my skin. She seemed to see mine and Philip’s complicated situation so clearly. In my heart I knew she meant well. She only wanted me to be happy. “I won’t. Let’s wrap up your new hairdo.” I switched off the kitchen light and made tracks down the hall, out the door, and over to Eve’s Clips, Janie with me step for step.

  I finished her style, and she left. What she said about Jordan wanting me to be happy made sense. For the life of me, I didn’t know why I’d never thought of that. Maybe it was because Jordan was in Heaven, and I was here, and that nearly drove me crazy. She had a point though.

  The rest of the day I washed, blow-dried, snipped, and curled, thinking of Philip all the while. My last customer left at seven-fifteen.

  I couldn’t wait to get my shower and see Philip. Whatever our relationship was now, might or might not be in the future, I needed to know he was safe.

  18

  I wrapped my housecoat around me as the light streaming in the bedroom window waned and the sun set. Philip would arrive soon. I turned on the lamp on the wicker nightstand, and the click echoed in the room. Sure enough, the doorbell rang as I pulled on a pair of gray pants. I threw on a royal blue blouse and answered.

  “Hi, I’m itching to know what you found out in the shop. I’ve never seen Bob’s as dead as it was today. Of course, when I wanted those creeps to come in, no one ate lunch there but a couple state troopers, several groups of women, and two ladies with babies.”

  Thank goodness. He could’ve gotten himself in a dangerous situation if those hoodlums had shown. “That is unusual.” I put my arms around his neck and hugged him. “I don’t know if it’s important or not, but Angel Epps and Missy Longman overheard two strangers in the drugstore mention you and Mr. Jacobsen. Missy said they discussed where you were staying. Remember, we wondered if someone cased out your room. It’s possible they did.”

  Philip’s eyes widened. “Mr. Jacobsen’s so eccentric. I bet somebody figured out he’d hand me the cash, but who? I’d like to eat in Merchantville where we can talk without anyone in Triville hearing us.”

  “OK.”

  He helped me into the old car, drove through town, and headed toward the expressway. “This thing’s amazing. She keeps humming
along.”

  “Lloyd’s a talent.”

  Philip leaned back in his seat as though he enjoyed driving to the Airport Central Hotel. He parked then helped me out of the car and put his arm around my waist as we followed a sidewalk illuminated with in-ground lights. We whirled in a revolving door that opened to a huge lobby filled with people winding around plush leather chairs and potted plants.

  Philip marched to an open-air cafe with a brass rail in the back of the room and approached the host. “Could we sit there, please?” He pointed to a waterfall running over a rocky wall from the second story into a small pool lined with ferns and large dieffenbachia plants.

  “Sure.” The host escorted us to a black wrought iron table beside the cascade and laid down two menus. “Enjoy your meal.”

  Philip scooted his chair as close to the water as he could. “Move over.”

  I did.

  He pulled up the table. “This is perfect. The roar will obscure everything we say.” He patted the back of my seat.

  “If we don’t drown and we can hear each other.”

  Philip laughed.

  It was good to see his mood lighten.

  “What would you like to drink?” The waiter seemed to appear out of nowhere.

  Philip placed his palm on the menu. “Do you have sweet tea in Merchantville?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll have that with the roasted turkey, mashed potatoes, and cranberry jelly.”

  “That sounds good. The same for me, please.”

  The waiter left and Philip peered at me with anxious blue eyes. “OK, what did these guys in the drugstore look like? Do you think they were the same two we saw at Bob’s Diner?”

  “I suspect they are. Unfortunately, neither Angel nor Missy could describe them.”

  Philip stiffened. “How’s that possible?”

  “They were both pre-occupied with something else. Of course, Mandy probably could detail everyone who entered the store, but if we asked her, she’d not only insist on knowing why we inquired, she’d tell everyone who came in we were interested in two strangers. They’d all speculate on...”

  Philip held up his hand before I finished the sentence. “No. We don’t want to involve Mandy.”

 

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