by Ami Diane
Jenny seemed to sense her apprehension. She locked eyes with Ella in the mirror, a coy expression on her heavily made-up face. The shears made their slicing sound as she opened and closed them a few times a la Edward Scissorhands.
Then, she marched past Ella to another woman waiting in a chair. Ella relaxed in her seat, letting out an audible sigh.
“You okay, dear?” Wink looked over as one of the other beauticians put a cape around her.
Another settled in behind Ella. The woman’s hair was cut in a short pixie, and she wore Doc Martens, reminiscent of Ella’s grade school days. Her hands tugged at the knot of hair on Ella’s head.
“Does this come out?” she asked in between smacks of gum.
Reluctantly, Ella obliged and released the Kraken of hair. It wasn’t that she was particularly fond of her deep brown locks, but she’d finally figured out how to manage them and look semi-presentable.
“Just a trim is all I need.”
Another smack of gum. “I think you’d look great with shorter hair. It’d really frame your face well.”
Ella had tried the look before but had ended up looking like a poodle. She told the pixie-haired girl as much.
“Naw. They just didn’t layer it right.”
The knot returned to Ella’s stomach. “Okay, but have you worked with curly hair before?”
“All the time. Grew up cutting my sister’s hair after watching them butcher it one too many times. She always cried afterward, and I had to fix their mess. Trust me.”
She paused long enough from tugging her fingers through Ella’s tangles to shoot her a reassuring smile in the mirror. Then, she twirled the chair around, and Ella was forced to stare at the row of women sitting under hairdryers.
On Ella’s other side, Flo was explaining in great detail what she wanted. The young gal who couldn’t have been a breath over twenty didn’t seem too keen on what she was asking.
After a quick wash, Ella’s hair was plastered to her head and all she heard was the sound of scissors slicing near her face. A few minutes in, Jenny walked her client to the door and began working on Wink’s hair.
“So,” Wink started, her tone taking on the excitement that usually preceded juicy information, “you know how I feel about gossip, but did you all hear Stan was having an affair?”
Ella’s head jerked, nearly costing her an ear.
“Whoops,” Gum Smacker said. “Might want to hold still unless you want a haircut like mine.”
Ella apologized and watched Wink in the mirror. The older woman gave her a subtle gesture with her hand.
“Old news, Wink,” Jenny said. “I heard it was three different women.”
“No,” Gum Smacker said, “Just the one.” She shoved Ella’s head forward to cut the back.
“Who was the lucky lady?” Wink asked.
Ella hadn’t been to many salons in her life, but listening to the ease in which the conversation flowed, she got the impression she’d found the font of the rumor mill. No wonder the sheriff had asked for help getting information. He could press his ear to the ground all he wanted, but he simply couldn’t access the veins of the town Ella could.
“I heard it was Betty,” Gum Smacker said.
Jenny scoffed. “Don’t go spreading gossip. Besides, it was Dot. Didn’t you see them the last few weeks? Always together. They looked like they were attached at the hip.”
Ella perked up—metaphorically. She was scared to move, otherwise. “Is Dot the one with long, straight blonde hair?”
Gum Smacker made a snorting noise behind Ella. “Long and straight, yes. But that blonde is from a bottle.”
“You should’ve seen the split ends on her when she first came in,” Jenny added.
Discussion of natural hair color and damage aside, Ella churned over the news that Stan was having an affair with Dot—the unfortunate name of the woman who’d been collecting signatures with Stan. Looking back, it was obvious, but Ella hadn’t wanted to assume anything.
If Stan was having an affair with her, maybe his wife had found out. It wasn’t like they were hiding the fact, traipsing around town together. But Lilly hadn’t struck Ella as the jealous type. She’d seemed rather indifferent about her husband and almost glad to be rid of him.
“Does Dot have a husband?” Ella asked, resisting the urge to sweep aside the hair in her face.
Gum Smacker set her scissors of death down and slathered her hands with an oily product before working them through Ella’s hair.
“She’s famously single,” Wink said. “Been prowling for a husband since she got here.”
Ella’s heart sank a little. A jealous husband would’ve been a perfect motive.
“It’s because she’s crazy,” Flo, who’d been suspiciously quiet since sitting down, said. “You’re doing it wrong,” she said abruptly to the girl hovering over her head.
After scaring the girl with a litany of threats if she messed up, Flo was escorted over to one of the hairdryers that looked like it’d come directly from a UFO.
“I heard she went after the milkman with a knife,” Gum Smacker said.
Wincing as the hairdresser combed through a stubborn knot, Ella asked, “What about family?”
“I think it was just her,” Jenny said. “But I don’t remember.”
“I was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the diner when she first arrived in Keystone, walking along the road,” Wink said. “It was just her.”
“Speaking of sidewalks,” Jenny said, her voice filling with the lilt of a new topic, “I saw you out there yesterday chatting with Mr. Benson.”
“Stewart? Of course, I was chatting with him. I had just bought groceries.”
“It looked like more than just chatting.”
“I don’t know what you’re insinuating—”
“Oh, come now, Wink. Stewart’s a fine man. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I think you two would make a handsome couple.”
Ella grinned. “Wink, why didn’t you tell me? Wink and Stewart sitting in a tree…” Her voice raised to a half-yell. “Flo! Did you know Wink and Stewart were an item?”
The crazy lady was sitting across and to Ella’s left, wedged between two other blowdryer victims.
“Eh!” Flo grappled with the dome over her head. “I can’t hear you!”
Ella waved her away. “Never mind!”
“Do I want pie?”
Ella rolled her eyes and chanced moving her head a fraction to steal a peek at her boss. Wink’s cheeks had turned nearly as dark as her new hair color, confirming Jenny’s accusation.
The thought of the spunky woman with the more subdued, friendly store owner made Ella’s insides all warm, despite her reservations about relationships lasting. Also, it didn’t hurt to have ammo the next time Wink pushed her about Will.
As the clock dragged on, she fell silent, listening to the chatter around her, a sense of belonging welling in her heart. Since her arrival, she’d felt like an outsider, but sitting in the salon, listening to the happenings of the town, she felt like she was touching the heart of Keystone. They were bringing her into the fold. This town was becoming her home.
“You ready to see your new look?” Gum Smacker asked.
“Why not?” It couldn’t be worse than her fourth grade haircut, which was more mullet-like than Ella would ever admit aloud.
With a hard shove on Ella’s chair, the beautician whirled her around, and Ella gasped at her new reflection. Her hair had been cut just above her shoulders. The way Gum Smacker had shaped her chunky locks enhanced the angles in Ella’s cheeks and jaw, softening her chin. Best of all was the notable absence of frizz.
“You’re a wizard.”
The entire time her hairdresser instructed her on how to repeat the look, Ella’s hands never left her soft curls. On the other side of the room, Jenny pulled Wink out from under a hairdryer and took out her curlers.
Wink waxed poetic about her new hot pink hairdo, the color modern, but the style st
ill reminiscent of her era. Rather than clash, they complemented each other.
Ella turned towards Flo’s chair for her big reveal, and her mouth fell open.
“Holy Bride of Frankenstein,” she whispered.
“How ‘bout that? A reference I finally get.” Flo brushed a hand up her hair, and it continued to climb until it reached the top. “I agree, it does look good.”
“I don’t think she meant it as a compliment,” Wink said.
“Sure she did.”
“No,” Ella said. “No, I definitely didn’t.”
Behind Flo, her barely-old-enough-to-vote hairdresser looked like she hated herself and was questioning her life choices.
Ella couldn’t let it go. “If we were in the twentieth century, I’d be concerned about planes flying into that mess. I mean, how does it even get that tall? It defies the laws of physics. Did you use glue to hold that sucker up?” She glanced at Flo’s poor hairdresser who had backed away a couple of feet as if distancing herself from being associated with the hairdo. “Tell me you used rubber cement or something?”
Flo continued to caress the cotton candy tower. “You think Will will like it?”
A shiver traveled up Ella’s spine as she exchanged a worried glance with Wink.
“I think you’ll have managed to officially scare off anything with testosterone—thank God.” The diner owner’s chair spun as she hopped off and practically dragged Flo away from the mirror.
With their new hairdos and new information involving Stan’s life, the three women said their thanks, settled the bill, and left. Lingering on the sidewalk, Ella took in a lungful of cool air. “Anyone else feel their estrogen levels are high? Higher than Flo’s hair?”
“Bit too much for my liking,” Flo said. “I need a drink and go to the shooting range.”
“There’s a shooting range here?”
“If you know where to look,” Flo winked.
“She rotates through different fields and sections of the forest,” Wink explained, “to hide from Chapman.”
“Fill me in on this Stan business before I go,” Flo said in an uncharacteristically interested tone.
The diner had closed a half-hour before. Wink unlocked the door and ushered them inside. Flo’s new ‘do nearly brushed the top of the doorframe, causing Ella to mutter under her breath.
Ella and Flo settled into the corner booth while Wink served up three thick slices of pumpkin pie smothered in clouds of whip cream. Digging her fork through the fluff, Ella excavated to locate her pie.
She jumped up and poured some decaf coffee then settled back into her seat. While they ate, Ella and Wink took turns discussing Stan and what Ella had seen in his house.
They wound down around the same time Ella savored her last bite. The fork clinked against her teeth as she licked off all of the flavor. “So, if he was having an affair with Dot, what would her motive be for killing him?”
“Nothing I can think of,” Wink said.
“Could’ve been that wife of his.” Flo dabbed a napkin over her mouth, completely missing the dob of whip cream on her nose.
“I’m not so sure.” Ella told them her reasoning. “Lilly just didn’t seem broken up. Actually, she seemed happy to be rid of the man.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the whole mistress angle isn’t it. Which leaves us back to the expansion project. Sorry, Wink, but the most plausible explanation seems that someone killed him because of the wind farm.”
Wink licked her fork, nodding.
“Who else is on the ‘Save the Hills’ committee?” She caught her cheek between her teeth, waiting for the response.
“It’s a short list. The professor, of course.”
“Isn’t Jonas on it, too?” Flo’s whip cream nose had now become a whip cream mask.
“Yes, he is. We’re still trying to get a couple more, but people are reluctant to get involved.”
Ella’s fingers traced a scratch in the tabletop. “Does the professor stand to lose his house with the expansion?”
“Yes.”
“So, it’s possible…”
“I can’t see him hurting anyone.” Wink looked to Flo for confirmation.
Ella’s head shot up. “Wait, did you also say Jonas? The farmer who blasted Stan at the meeting?”
Both Flo and Wink nodded.
“He seemed pretty upset to me,” Ella said, her hopes rising. “Could you see him hurting Stan?”
Both of them were silent for some time before Flo said, “If he got mad enough, I suppose.”
Ella moved him to the top of her suspect list. After ten more minutes of pointless speculation, Flo groaned as she climbed out of the booth, claiming she needed to “hit the hay,” but Ella suspected she was stealing away to the inn’s kitchen to whip up a batch of lemon bars to compete with Wink’s.
After they deposited their dishes in the kitchen, Wink flipped off the lights and locked the front door. Ella waited on the sidewalk while the diner owner climbed into her car, saying she’d see Ella at the potluck tomorrow.
As the oldsmobile rumbled away, Ella’s head slumped forward, realizing she still needed to come up with something to take.
Sighing, she decided she’d get to it first thing in the morning. Sundays were her day off, and she didn’t relish the idea of spending part of it in the kitchen, but she also didn’t want to be the newcomer who didn’t pull her own weight.
Stepping through the wrought iron gate for the inn, she ambled up the stone path towards the stoop. A new moon and the street lamps stretched her shadow across the grass. The lights on either side of the front door were out, making her squint to see the steps.
On her right, the azalea bushes rustled.
“Fluffy?” Ella called.
A figure stepped out. It remained in the shadows, the burning glow from the butt of a cigarette punctuating the dark.
Six’s raspy voice scraped against her ears. “Been waiting for ya.”
Her hand curled into a fist. Why hadn’t she asked Flo to borrow a gun?
“What do you want, Six?” She forced her voice out even. He was like a yellow jacket, only stinging if he sensed fear.
“Just wanted to chat.”
“Now? In the dark? Kinda creepy, don’t you think?” She reached for the doorknob, and she heard the jingle of a spur as he took a step towards her.
“Don’t,” he warned. “You turned me in to Chapman. You sent that law dog after me. You betrayed me.”
He took another step into the rectangle of light spilling out of the parlor window. His face glowed with rage. “I’ve killed men for less than that, slit their throats and filled them with bullets for just taking my whiskey.”
“Bit overdramatic,” Ella mumbled.
He took a long drag from the rolled cigarette. “So, what do you think I’ll do to you?”
It was a question that didn’t need answered. Her imagination went wild with all of the horrible, dark things he would do.
Ella swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat and said in a soft voice, “What happened to you? What happened to make you so full of hate? So bitter?”
His face flenched as if she’d struck him.
“Ain’t none of your concern.”
He flicked the still burning butt at her. It bounced and landed in the path. He slid amongst the shadows until she heard his spurs echoing down the sidewalk.
Ella uncurled the death-grip she had on the doorknob and took a deep breath. She would not be bullied. She would not let people like him make her cower and cow to their will because of fear.
Stomping on his cigarette, she ground it into the stone, crushing it long after the ember had died.
CHAPTER 14
ELLA STUMBLED DOWN the south wing hallway, her eyelids still heavy with sleep. Despite it being her one day to sleep in, her brain had woken her up at 7:00 am thinking about Stan’s murder and the unidentified skeleton.
As she turned the corner, she bumped into a tall figure with sweeping
gray hair and goggles over his eyes. Atop his head sat a metal dome made of tin foil, reflecting the light sconces on the wall.
“Not you too, Edwin.”
He blinked at her from behind his goggles—swimming goggles by the looks of them. Behind him, Flo ran a strange device over the wall. Lights flashed and something whirred on top like a gadget straight from the Jetsons.
Her recent visit to the beauty parlor seemed to have spurred her into combing her hair even higher. They must’ve run out of tin foil, using it up on Edwin, because she only had a small sheet the size of a yarmulke on top.
Ella swung in the kitchen door, suddenly awake, saying over her shoulder, “I’m going to pretend like I didn’t see anything.”
“That’s right,” Flo called out as the door swung back. “Live in denial. That’s what they want!”
“I can’t hear you!”
Ella rubbed her temples as she sloshed steaming hot coffee into her cup. If it weren’t for the fact that the pot was fresh and would scald her throat, she’d have gulped it down already. The thought still tempted her.
It should be illegal to deal with Flo pre-caffeinated, she decided. She wondered how hard it was to propose that for a vote and add it to the town’s bylaws.
Sitting at the table, she gulped her first cup as fast as humanly possible without stripping away tastebuds. After pouring a second cup, she ducked her head and slipped past the Ghost Busters and headed to the inn’s library. Curled up in a winged-back leather chair, she lazed about with Fluffy, sipping coffee, reading, and putting off making something for the potluck that night.
When her cup was dry, her chapter finished, and she couldn’t delay any longer, she finally gritted her teeth and went through Rose’s recipe book. Each one required at least an hour of prep, which she converted into Ella-time, multiplying by three.
Eventually, she settled on a classic: chocolate chip cookies. She scratched a pencil over paper, made a hurried list of ingredients, then reluctantly exchanged her sweats for jeans and a sweatshirt.
Compared to the rainforest they had been in previously, the mornings were cool in Romania, the heat seeming to arrive mid-day like an unwanted relative. She found she needed to wear layers when roaming about town.