Holiday Hooligans: Cozy Mystery (The Teasen & Pleasen Hair Salon Cozy Mystery Series Book 3)

by Constance Barker

  Woodley arrived and tried to help, but I sent him to watch television. “You are just underfoot. I’m glad you are here, but I need the here to be slightly off center.”

  “I can do off center,” he said.

  “It’s one of your best qualities.”

  Despite all there was to do, before noon everything was ready as it could be. That’s when I began falling apart. I was a nervous wreck, pacing in the kitchen, double checking things and watching the clock. Woodley and Sarah wisely retreated to play the Boggle game he’d bought her for Christmas. “After I clobber him we are going to watch a program about polar bears,” she told me.

  “How can you be that confident?” I asked.

  “It’s a word game.”

  Noon came and went. I went to the door and peered out as if that would bring them quickly. I got a couple of beers out of the refrigerator and walked into the living room mumbling. “Where in the world are they?” I asked as I handed one to Woodley. Apparently my mumbling was reasonably coherent.

  “In Manitoba, Canada at the moment,” Sarah said. “They are migrating across the Hudson Bay, heading north. People go the Churchill Manitoba just to watch them.”

  “What?” I turned and saw they were still watching the polar bear program. “Oh. I meant your parents.”

  She looked over at me as if she was trying to remember who they were. “I guess they’ll be here soon, if they said they’d be here. If they aren’t here when the program’s over what do we do? Everyone else will start arriving and they’ll be hungry. I’m already hungry.”

  I thought it curious that she hadn’t expressed much interest in the whereabouts of her parents at all. It seemed unimportant to her. I suppose that was healthy in some ways. A Sarah kind of way. “I suppose we won’t wait for them.” I almost said we wouldn’t wait because they weren’t all that reliable, but I caught myself in time.

  “Some people aren’t time oriented,” Woodley said.

  “You mean they aren’t punctual?” she asked him.

  “That’s just one manifestation,” he said. “Would you consider the polar bears punctual? They do things when they want. All this talk about their migration starting early is just because other people, scientists, think they should wait.”

  “Good point,” she said.

  Just then the doorbell rang. Even though I’d been expecting it, wanting it to happen (so I could get this meeting over with!) the sound startled me enough that I finally understood the expression about jumping out of your skin. I darted for the door and opened it.

  There they were, standing on my doorstep. Smiling. “Sorry we’re late,” she said.

  “Traffic in Baton Rouge,” Lester said.

  I forced myself to be calm. “Bea, Lester, come on in.”

  They came in, moving to where Sarah sat watching her program with more intensity than was actually required. “The other guests will be along shortly and we eat then.”

  “We can’t stay, Savannah,” Bea said. She glanced at the dining table in the next room.

  “Looks mighty good,” Lester said, “but we can’t stay for sure.”

  Bea sat down. “I’m sorry if we sounded like we were inviting ourselves to dinner. I suppose I thought we would when we talked, but Lester and I have to get back to New Orleans this afternoon.”

  I thought my heart would stop beating. “This afternoon?” I’d been prepared to have to say goodbye to Sarah, but this wasn’t what I had in mind at all. While my mind whirled with all the things I needed to say to her before I let her leave, I struggled to stay focused. “What’s the rush?”

  “We have to take a drug test,” Lester said.

  I stifled a laugh. “A drug test.”

  “The company arranged it special,” Bea said, “Everything being closed and all. But everything happened so sudden like.”

  “We start work tomorrow morning,” Lester said.

  “Work?”

  “We got ourselves jobs on a cruise ship,” Bea said. She got on her knees in front of Sarah who stared fixedly at the television screen. “We are leaving port tomorrow afternoon for a long cruise, and we just had to see our little girl and say Merry Birthday and Happy Christmas.”

  Sarah looked straight at the television. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “You aren’t taking her with you?”

  Bea looked at me, her eyes pleading. “Can we talk in private?”

  I led her into the kitchen and we sat at the table. Mercifully Lester stayed to watch television.

  “Listen, this is real sudden and I know it’s an awful thing to ask of you, but could keep on taking care of her for us? We have a chance at our dream jobs and it seems like Sarah is happy here with you.”

  “That makes this a rather unstable situation,” I said. I glanced at Woodley who had come to stand stiffly in the doorway, working very hard to mind his own business. “I love having her and she is welcome to stay with me. The problem, and it is a problem, is that I don’t have any official standing. If there is an emergency or important decisions have to be made about her, I don’t have any authority to do anything. That’s why I was trying to call you.”

  “I know,” Bea said. She took out some papers. “I had a lawyer draw these up. They make you Sarah’s legal guardian when we are gone.”

  “Which looks to be quite a bit of the time,” Woodley said, then, clearly angry with himself for saying anything, he turned and went back to the living room.

  “Savannah, this job is the chance of a lifetime for Lester and I. We love Sarah, but honestly we have been rotten bad parents. We’re just learning how to get along with each other for the first time. If we took her…”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m not judging you in any way. She’s a great girl and I love her dearly. My concern is that she and I will bond, we will build a life and then you suddenly show up and try to take her away. That would break both our hearts. I couldn’t stand that.”

  “I’ve put that all in writing,” she said.

  “What?”

  “The papers I gave you. They aren’t just temporary. They make you her permanent legal guardian. We’ve signed and notarized them. If you accept, she is yours forever. Just file the papers with the court and it’s a done deal.”

  “You are giving her to me?”

  “Me and Lester and can’t give her what you do. And with these new jobs…”

  I was trembling, trying to keep my hands from shaking visibly. This was exactly what I’d been telling myself I wanted. And now I was terrified. “I’d love it, but we have to ask Sarah. The decision has to be hers.”

  Bea look distressed. “I’m terrible. I know that, but I can’t look my daughter in the eye and tell her I’m giving her up. But you saw her face. The girl knows. She’s so much smarter than we are. We can’t even keep up with the girl, but with you…”

  “I’ll do the talking if you really can’t tell her. But you will sit right here while I do it.”

  “Okay.”

  “And these cruise ship jobs are real?”

  “Oh yes, very real. We will work for eight months at sea, then off for a month. That’s no way to raise a kid.”

  I took a breath. “Okay, if Sarah agrees, if that’s what she wants, here is how it will work, Bea. You promise to write Sarah, at least send postcards from places you go. But no dropping in unannounced. If you want to see her, you contact me. If Sarah agrees to see you, you will be welcome.”

  Bea threw her arms around me, managing to startle me for the second time that day. “Oh Savannah, thank you.”

  “I’ll get Sarah.”

  Sarah got up from the couch when I called her. She came into the kitchen took one look at her mother, then shot me a questioning look. I gave her my best imitation of a confident smile. “Sit down and you will get the entire story. And then we are going to ask you to make a decision.”

  She nodded, but it lacked her normal confidence.

  “Here is the thing… your parents have asked me if
I would become your legal guardian.”

  A flicker of something made her face twitch. “Do you mean forever?”

  “As forever as such things are. They’d be your parents, but they’ll only visit once in awhile, if you want to see them.”

  I saw Sarah’s posture stiffen, and I knelt down next to her chair. “What?”

  “They won’t visit.” Her voice was soft, the comment aimed at me.

  “Maybe not. I can’t make them visit, but if you want to stay with me I can promise to be a friend and the best parent I can be. But it’s all up to you. I told your mother that I’d be delighted to do it but only if you wanted it too.”

  She looked at me. For the first time I saw her near tears, fighting to hold them back. Seven-year old stoicism only goes so far. Then she nodded. “I’d like that, Miz. Jefferies.” Then she threw her arms around me.

  “We brought your presents,” Bea said.

  “I left them in the car,” Lester said who had wandered in. “Them polar bears are something.”

  Bea looked at me. “Why don’t you and I get them?” The look she gave me told me she wanted to talk privately.

  So we went to the car. My blood was pounding. “I can’t believe the way you two get along.”

  “She doesn’t like being conned, Bea. And like you said, she already had things figured. I needed to let her know that I know, that I’m not being conned either, or lying to her.”

  “Sometimes talking to that little girl makes me feel like I’m the one facing the authority figure.”

  “She does tend to take the high moral ground.”

  Bea tucked the presents under her arm, let out a long sigh, and we went back into the house. “Sarah, please come here for a moment. I need to talk to you privately.”

  I took the presents from her. “Why don’t I put these under the tree?”

  She handed them over. “The red one doesn’t go under the tree. It’s a birthday present, not a Christmas present.”

  I laughed. “That works. The party is this afternoon.”

  “I’m afraid we are gonna have to leave.” She looked at Sarah. “Come out to the car say goodbye to mommy, baby.”

  As Sarah passed me, going out the door, she gave me a nervous glance. I winked back at her, and saw a sly almost conspiratorial smile cross her lips. “You and me kid,” I whispered.

  I felt almost weak with relief.

  Woodley came up and put his arms around me. “Thank goodness,” I said.

  “This,” he said, “is great. Merry Christmas from the Jameson’s, Savannah.”

  “Thank you, James.”

  “Miz Jefferies, Ginny and her mom are here.”

  “Perfect timing,” I said. “I better say goodbye to your parents.”

  She shook her head. “They already left. They said they had to get back to New Orleans.”

  I knelt down and looked her in the eyes. “So, are we good, you and I?”

  “No,” she said. “Actually we are great.” She hugged me. “This is the best Christmas there ever was.”

  “Happy birthday!” Ginny said, running over to us. “I made you a present, Sarah, you’ve gotta see it.”

  “Can I go see?” Sarah said eagerly.

  “Of course.” She ran off excitedly.

  There was more commotion at the door. “Savannah,” Woodley called, “incoming Phlint invasion!”

  And in they poured… Nellie and Rudy shouting Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday and carrying presents. Rudy had a couple of bottles of Bayou Shine under his arm.

  “Woodley, have you tried my hooch yet?” he asked as Aubrey, Norris, and Dale tore into the house. Sarah was jumping up and down, just like an excited seven year old and introducing them to Ginny, then suddenly they all tore out through the back door and into the yard in some sort of whirlwind of child energy.

  The doorbell rang and I opened the door to find Betina and Sanders, who was wearing a Santa cap on his bald head. “Come in,” I said.

  As our friends waded into the maelstrom I watched them talking and laughing. Woodley was talking to Paula again and she was nodding furiously. I sensed a plot. Knowing Woodley, if there was a plot, it was a well-intention attempt to do someone some good. In his way he was as goodhearted as Billy Jasper.

  I wanted to cry. This was the best Christmas ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  My stomach was full to bursting with great food. Leander performed the best set I’d ever heard him play during dinner, and I could see Pete in the wings about to explode with pride.

  When he went offstage, a dance band came on, and James Woodley pulled me to my feet. He was amazingly smooth on his feet. As he swept me across the dance floor, being in his arms seemed perfect. “Thanks for bringing this poor girl from the sticks to the big city, Investigator Woodley. This is great.”

  He chuckled. “Aren’t you glad I won the bet?”

  “Huh. Aren’t you glad I won the bet? And that I demanded the same prize?”

  “That did turn out to be convenient. And how interesting that we both picked the same villain.”

  “There weren’t enough to choose from to keep in interesting.” I said. “Next time…”

  “Have you talked to Nellie?”

  “You are changing the subject. Still afraid of competition, I see. But yes, I talked to her and Sarah. It seems Sarah is having a great time. She is teaching Norris to bake. Nellie says they are making a mess, but in her kitchen that doesn’t mean much. Ginny is coming over too. Apparently the dangerous trio is now a demonic quintet, although says their mischief is a lot more complex—not just the normal destruction. Although Aubrey is teaching the girls to shoot.”

  “This might be the end of us all,” he chuckled.

  “And now I get to change the subject.”

  “To?”

  “Your in-depth conversations with Paula. What are you two conspiring about?”

  “Passing the time of day. Getting to know each other. Learning that she has a good mind and is rather overqualified for her job.”

  “I could’ve told you that.”

  “But I happen to know that the parish is in dire need of freelancer to transcribe police investigations and interrogations. And now I know that Paula can type about four billion words a minute and has a computer. It turns out that she can make more money doing that part time than her job pays.”

  “Really?”

  “She starts January when thing get back to normal after the holidays.”

  “Do they do that? Get back to normal?”

  “Sort of. Anyway, they’ll start her on some work… send her recordings and she transcribes them.”

  “Isn’t that all done by computers?”

  “Some but not critical things. And there is other work editing the computer speech to text stuff. I don’t know all of it, but the parish needs her to do a number of things like that and she wants to do it.”

  “That’s fantastic. She can work at home.”

  “Exactly. Now I need to interrogate you. Do you think Sarah would like living in the city?”

  “What a sneaky sort of probing question!”

  “Thank you. I am a trained professional after all.”

  “Well, Investigator Woodley, I imagine she would if they’d let her in the blues clubs. But you’d have to ask her. Right now she is apparently enjoying learning to shoot.”

  “How about the adult in the duo? Would she like living in the city, outside of blues clubs?”

  “That’s a leading question.”

  “Yeah, it is. Answer it and the we can discuss where it might be leading.”

  I took my time. Things were getting serious quickly. Woodley was an amazing man. “The truth is that, as wonderful as this is, as you are, Investigator Woodley, and you are amazing, I think I wouldn’t enjoy it. Not now. Our lives have had quite enough change for the moment.”

  “And how long is a moment?”

  “How long is an investigation, Investigator Woodley? It go
es on until it’s over, correct?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “You can’t rush it.”

  “Nor Christmas.”

  “Nor most good things. We, Sarah and I, need time to find out what is happening now. Then we can look at what might happen next. And who knows, if an investigator were to change work and take a job in a small town… well New Orleans is only four hours away.”

  “A hideous overland trek, I’ve been informed.”

  “Not if you trade in that Conestoga wagon on a decent car. As Ellen Hart would tell you, the exciting town of Knockemstiff has a high quality of life combined with reasonable proximity to good blues clubs.”

  “You think I could live in a small town.”

  “Maybe that would keep the city special.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What would I do in a small town?”

  “Run for sheriff? Become a local police chief when Tanner retires? Open a private detective agency?”

  “Sounds like a lot of work. Your murder rate is awfully high.”

  “That just means we need a better trained police force.”

  He tilted his head. “You are serious.”

  “I am.”

  His astonishment was delightful to see. “You know, I’ve never considered…”

  “Then maybe you should consider it. All options should be on the table. After all, it’s only fair that if I have to consider your proposition you consider mine.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  “There’s no need to rush into anything. You are a patient man, I’ve been told.”

  Then, right there on the dance floor James Woodley kissed me, stopping my heart. “I’ll think about it. Patiently, with an open mind.”

  “If you need sage advice, you should talk to my consultant, Sarah Jameson.”

  “She is biased.”

  “Wonderfully so.”

  He smiled and we danced again. Across the room a smiling Pete nodded in my direction, raised a glass of champagne and toasted us.

  Midnight was approaching and this was the best New Year’s Eve ever.