Hair Calamities and Hot Cash.

by Gail Pallotta

  Dew on the grass between the car and the porch sparkled underneath the spotlight on the corner of the house. Crickets chirping cut into the quiet night as he helped Eve from the passenger’s seat. He placed his arm around her waist and they trudged to the door. “We’ll see Chief Grimes tomorrow. Then you and I will talk.”

  “He doesn’t keep office appointments on the week-ends. We’ll have to wait until Monday.” Eve grinned. “Unless my idea works.”

  “What idea?”

  “I’ll tell you tomorrow after church.” Eve unlocked her front door.

  Philip pulled her close to him and kissed her with all the strength he had left. She fell limp and laid her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair then released her. “I’ll pick you up at ten-thirty. Get some sleep.”

  She unlocked her door and went inside.

  What plan could she possibly have? Hope trickled into his tired bones on the way to the car and he picked up his pace.

  21

  A buzzing racket jarred me. I reached out from under the comforter and hit the nightstand. Sleep held down my eyelids like heavy weights, but the noise repeated and blasted them open. I picked up the small, white clock, and pounded the OFF button. “You don’t really want me to get up do you?”

  Why was I so tired? The detective work. Philip! I sprang out of bed, went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I donned a burgundy dress and a pair of black pumps just in time to answer the doorbell. “Good morning.”

  “Hi, gorgeous.” Weariness filled Philip’s voice.

  I locked the door, and we ambled out into a crisp mountain breeze and got in the car. “I kinda’ hate to part with her tomorrow,” Philip said as he set the motor running and backed out.

  “I know.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  I couldn’t have stopped my grin if I’d wanted to. Wait until he heard it. “I’ll tell you as soon as we leave the service. We’ll put it in motion right away.”

  “I’d like to know now.” Philip headed into town.

  I opened my mouth to tell him about my idea, but before I collected my thoughts he motored onto the steep hill to the church. The old car sputtered and rolled backward. He clenched his jaw, gripped the steering wheel with both hands, and pushed the pedal to the floor. The vehicle crept to the gravel lot. He had so much patience with the car…and soapy bubbles…and faulty hair products.

  “My curiosity’s killing me,” he said as he cut the engine.

  “I don’t have time to give you all the details before church.”

  He sat back in his seat and gazed at me with pleading eyes.

  “We’ll return to the thieves’ house.”

  He gasped.

  “One of those hoods has a gun.”

  “Everybody here has a gun. It’s a way of life.”

  “Do you have a gun?”

  “Yes. Jordan taught me how to shoot a revolver.”

  “Yeah, but it’s for your protection. You’re not a criminal.”

  I pulled down my eyebrows and frowned at him. “Of course, I’m not a criminal. Have a little faith in me. My scheme will work.”

  “I’ll listen,” he said, but doubt lined his voice.

  “We need to attend the service.”

  “You’re right.”

  We strolled to the church and dropped down onto the nearest pew.

  The choir members lined up behind us and marched down the aisle, singing. The congregation joined in, and sweet notes filled the church. The hymn ended as the songsters sat down in seats behind the altar.

  Reverend Binder rose from his chair and I started going through my scheme in my mind, reassuring myself it would work and the crooks would return the money. Before I knew it, Reverend Binder mentioned the closing prayer. I realized I’d plotted the rest of the day and missed the entire sermon.

  The minister held out his arms. “May the Lord bless you and keep you in His care, make his face to shine upon you, and give you peace. Amen.”

  Philip and I stood and waited for people to file past us before we moved outdoors to greet Reverend Binder on the rock stoop.

  “Hello, Eve. Philip, it’s nice to see you.” He directed his gaze at me. “I hope you’re showing Philip around our beautiful mountains. Today’s a great day to take him on the parkway.”

  I tried to flash a genuine, not sheepish, grin. If he only knew where I was taking him.

  Philip clasped my arm. “She’s doing a good job.” He set a quick pace, helped me into the passenger seat, and then scooted into his seat. “OK, out with it.” He cranked the engine.

  “We need to go home and change clothes. We’ll dress up like college-aged kids, say nineteen.”

  “Why?” Philip backed out and pulled on the road. Heading downhill, they sailed past the maple and sycamore trees. “You look young enough to pull that off, but what about me?”

  “Did you bring a T-shirt with a college logo? If not, stop by the drugstore and pick up one.”

  “I may have a Harvard jersey.”

  “That won’t do. Buy one imprinted with Triville Community College.”

  Philip breezed through town and drove into my driveway. “I still don’t understand. Why are we dressing like this?”

  I wanted to lead him through my idea one step at a time, but apparently he wouldn’t stand for that. I might as well blurt it out. “We’ll saunter casually up to the criminals, tell them we lost the money, and beg them to return it.”

  Philip’s head snapped back. You’d think I’d said we were going to Mars.

  “What if they ask how much money?”

  “We think it was a lot.”

  “They’ll shoot us.” Assertion lined Philip’s voice.

  “No. A couple kids are no threat to them.”

  Philip rubbed his forehead. “Why did we have the cash?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that. A man who’s isolated on a mountain asked us to take care of it for him. Doesn’t that summarize what happened?”

  “Hmm.” Philip tilted his head and sat silent as though weighing my words while the motor idled. “Yes.”

  He didn’t seem to grasp the brilliance of my plot. “If they feel sorry for us, they’ll give it back.”

  “Feel sorry for us. Are you kidding?”

  “Everyone has a soft spot and a good side. Most people like kids. You know how some hoodlums have boundaries. They might beat up a man their age and size, but they wouldn’t harm a hair on a little kid’s head.” Knowing human nature was part of running a beauty shop, but apparently stockbrokers didn’t have a clue about the inner workings of people’s hearts and minds.

  Philip thumped the steering wheel. “Now that you mention it, I’ve heard about prisoners turning on inmates convicted of abusing children.”

  “Then there was my Grandma’s neighbor who robbed banks on the other side of the country. No one knew he was a thief. When he stayed gone weeks at a time, we all thought he was away on legitimate business. My grandmother baked him apple pies. He cut firewood, repaired broken windows in her house, and cleaned gutters for her.”

  Philip’s mouth gaped. “No way?”

  “Yeah. The feds caught him and put him in the local jail before they transported him to prison. While he was still here, she took him a pie!”

  Philip laughed so hard he nearly hit his head on the steering wheel. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “You’re saying crooks, or at least some of them, have two sides. Even though they break the law, they might not hurt certain people because they mean something to them. We can fall into the latter category if we put on a good act, and these thieves aren’t bad to the core.” Philip cocked an eyebrow as though he still had doubts. Then a glint of hope flickered in his eyes telling me he liked the idea. “OK, see you soon.”

  I scooted out, and he drove off.

  My strategy had to work.

  ~*~

  Philip looked nineteen standing on my po
rch in his Bermuda shorts and a Triville Community College T-shirt. I couldn’t help but laugh.

  I’d put my hair in a ponytail, and he flipped it as I locked the door. “You could be in high school. I like the pink bow.”

  “Thank you. I need to finish your disguise.”

  He glanced down. “This isn’t good enough?”

  I shook my head. “You did a great job, but you need more.”

  We entered the shop, and I motioned toward the middle salon chair. “Have a seat.”

  He obliged and peered in the mirror. Silky strands swished as I picked up a blond wig and placed it on his head.

  “Oh no. I’m not wearing this.”

  I’d figured he’d fuss about it. “Yes, you have to. Sit still.” I adjusted it then combed some fake hair forward.

  He pushed it off his eyes. “This doesn’t work. Remove it.”

  “I’ll trim it. Be still.” I picked up the scissors and Philip’s brow furrowed.

  I styled the wig so the bangs fell just over his eyebrows and the sides of it right above his ears. “There. When you put on sunglasses, the criminals won’t see anything but your lips, nose, cheeks, and chin. Can you change your voice when you talk?”

  Philip leaned forward and stared in the mirror.

  I could tell by the way he eyed the new look, he was fine with it.

  “That’s amazing. You’re talented. They’ll never suspect I’m a thirty-five-year-old stockbroker.” He spoke in a tone much higher pitched than usual.

  I laughed. “That’s great. Wear these.” I handed him a large, black-rimmed pair of shades from the vanity. Then I snatched up some with red rims dotted with tiny flowers and put them on. “We’re ready to go.”

  Philip placed his arm around my waist and guided me to the car. Then he slipped into the driver’s seat. The wig didn’t budge.

  “Your hair’s holding up well.”

  “I have a great hairdresser.” He chuckled then he stiffened and backed out.

  “We won’t take chances. If I sense our act isn’t working, I’ll pull on your arm and say I’m late getting home to help my mom with dinner.”

  “We’ll tell them we lost money on a dead-end road almost no one uses. How lame does that sound?” Disbelief lined Philip’s voice.

  “We’ll say we wanted to be alone.”

  Philip tilted his head. “Hmm. Good idea.”

  “I wracked my brain coming up with it.”

  “I guess you’re OK with this because you carry on conversations with all kinds of people all day. Do hairdressers take psychology?”

  “It’s not required for a license, but I actually completed several classes, because the subject interests me.”

  “I thought so.”

  I wanted Philip to be comfortable with our ruse. “I’ll be able to judge how much we can say by studying the criminals’ expressions and body language. If they’re leaning into us, they like what they hear. If one of them turns his shoulders toward us, he really approves of what we’re saying.”

  “It’s not hard to read a fist coming at you.” Philip exited the expressway and wheeled onto the road leading into Chapsburg.

  I gave him a friendly jab on the arm, hoping to relax him. “They’ll not hit us. We know they’re thieves, but they don’t realize that. I think they’ll take a likin’ to you.”

  “Yeah, right.” Philip drove onto the dirt road to their house. The wooden brown structure looked weather beaten in the daylight. “Where should I park?”

  “Pull off here. We’ll head toward the place, poke around the bushes, and act like we’re looking for something.”

  Philip continued a little farther. “I’ll get close enough for us to run for our lives.” A hint of sarcasm lined his voice. He parked in tall grass on the shoulder.

  We edged out. Getting into the act right away, he swung his hand into a holly bush. “Ouch.”

  I took hold of it. Bright pink scratches lined the top of his skin, but there wasn’t any blood. “Sorry. Try the wild azaleas.” I pointed to a shrub near the house.

  He pushed back some of the branches then picked a flower and handed it to me. “For my lady.”

  A door slammed and Philip’s eyes bulged.

  I touched his shoulder. “It’s all right. I’ll handle it.”

  The thieves stomped to us scowling like two angry bulldogs.

  The heavier man ran his hand through greasy, medium-length blond hair. “What you kids doin’ out here?” His voice sounded gruff, but our disguises had worked.

  I stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Windy.”

  He shook it with an extremity that looked as though he hadn’t washed in several days, his fingernails black with grease—from a stolen car, no doubt. “Joey.”

  “Nice to meet you. This is Charlie.” I motioned toward Philip and grinned real big.

  Joey pointed to the other guy. “Jack.”

  I waved, and Philip said, “Hello” in his high-pitched voice.

  Jack grunted. “Answer the question. What ya’ll doin’ out here.”

  Seeing them face to face in broad daylight I glimpsed the meanness in their eyes, and my courage dwindled. I swallowed hard. “We lost something.”

  Jack cracked his knuckles. “Way out here?”

  “Yeah. We were...” I shifted my weight to cover up the shiver overtaking me and cut my gaze toward Philip. “You know.”

  Joey grinned. “I see. What’d you lose?”

  My eyes met Joey’s, and my legs turned to gelatin. “Two duffle bags. Have you seen them?”

  Jack tilted his head. “What’d they look like?”

  “They’re black and about this wide.” I held out my hands, showing a three-foot width.

  “What’s in them?” Joey took a step toward me.

  My mouth went dry as I tried to speak.

  “Something for someone else,” Philip said.

  “Yeah. Yeah.” Joey eyed Jack as he spoke, his voice deep.

  Jack nodded. “Yeah.”

  I glanced at Philip. He appeared calm. This was going well.

  Philip clasped his hands in front of him. “We were taking money to the bank in Merchantville for a man who’s isolated on a mountaintop.”

  Joey’s mouth gaped. He stepped back, his body language telling me he didn’t like what he heard. “In Merchantville. How’d you end up here?”

  Philip leaned into me. “Like she said, maybe we…uh…sorta got distracted, wanted to get off the freeway.” Philip gestured with his hands. “We saw this convenient side road, pulled onto it, and you know.” He cocked an eyebrow. “We got outside the car and leaned our heads on the duffle bags like they were pillows.”

  I couldn’t help but stare in amazement. If Philip ever decided to give up his job, he could be an actor.

  Joey slapped his knee and laughed. “Yeah. Yeah. I guess you ain’t hurtin’ nothin’. Go ahead and look around. I hope you find ‘em. I think you’re gonna’ be in trouble if you don’t.”

  No. They had to give them to us. My mind froze. Try to relax and think. “You must have seen them.”

  Jack set his jaw firm. “No, we ain’t.” Anger filled his tone, and he started to walk away, Joey on his heels. Apparently, he didn’t like telling me twice they hadn’t seen them.

  My insides shook, but I caught up to them. “Maybe they’re lying around, and you just haven’t noticed them.”

  “I told you we don’t know anything about any bags. You can stay out here on the road, but don’t follow us. If you do, we might have to throw you off the bridge.” Jack laughed.

  So much for body language. I understood the message plain and clear. “What bridge?” I wanted him to think I had no idea what he was talking about.

  Joey looked over his shoulder. “You’re getting too nosey. Look for your loot then leave.”

  They stomped back to the house and went inside.

  My heart pounded so hard I thought it might jump out of my chest. “They won’t give the satchels to us.”<
br />
  Philip wandered to the azaleas and poked around. “In case they’re watching, put on a good show.”

  “Right.” I took a stick and swished it underneath the holly bush.

  We worked our way down one shrub at a time until we reached the car and climbed in.

  Philip started the engine and backed out with his lips turned down.

  Tears wet my eyelashes. I’d been no help at all.

  “I guess I’ll have to talk to Chief Grimes in the morning.” Defeat lined his voice.

  I slumped in my seat. “I’m sorry my plan didn’t work, but I don’t think Chief Grimes will announce to Triville you’ve lost Mr. Jacobsen’s money.”

  Philip pulled onto the expressway. “I know he won’t while he’s working on the case, but what about afterward? I’ll lose the account if Mr. Jacobsen thinks I’m irresponsible. I’m feeling sick.”

  I patted his arm. “Please don’t be upset. If we explain to Robert, uh Chief Grimes, surely he’ll get the cash from these gangsters and keep quiet about it. If nothing else, you’d think he’d be grateful to us for finding this den of thieves.”

  22

  I opened my mouth, leaned over the cream-colored vanity, and smoothed on lipstick. Did the bright lights above the mirror give me a washed out look, or did thinking about the police station drain my color? There weren’t any gangsters locked up there. They were in the jail. I only suggested we go because I knew how much Philip wanted us to solve this case. If he wasn’t happy, I wasn’t either.

  The doorbell rang, and I still hadn’t called Just Right about my product mix-up. What happened to my time? It would have to wait. Getting Mr. Jacobsen’s investment was much more important. I hurried downstairs and answered the door. So rigid, Philip’s face muscles looked as though he’d shaved in glue. I smiled, hoping to cheer him.

  “Hi,” he said without cracking a smile. Then he guided me to the car, my green cotton skirt swirling around my calves. There must have been something about visiting with the Chief of Police that made us dress up. Philip wore a gray suit.

  We scooted into the car, and Philip hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Waiting eight days to report the missing funds puts me in a suspicious light. What was I thinking?” He backed out.