Jules stood by Patrick, the troubled kid whom Mr. Ripari had been tutoring. Jules seemed protective of the guy, which seemed a role reversal. With his pale complexion and scrawny limbs, Jules looked like he would need a champion in a fight. His hyperactive movements gave him away. He wore a skeleton outfit, appropriate to his thin frame. A fake firearm strapped to his back looked like it came from a Ghostbusters film.
Patrick hid behind a monster mask, his body enveloped in a brown robe. He kept scanning the crowd, as though fearful of who might approach him.
Maya Alvarez appeared to be making a play for the coach, from the look of her body language. The vamp seemed to prefer adults to seduce, perhaps so she could control them. Coach Garsen hovered by the refreshment table, keeping a watchful eye on his team and stuffing hors d’oeuvres into his mouth.
Rose Sweetwater had her arm hooked into Shaun’s, the football player. They hung out with other team mates, including the kid Marla had overheard in the locker room. She recognized his scratchy voice as she idled on by.
After a suitable interval, she signaled Dalton across the room. Time for their little drama to begin. She cast a glance at Brianna, who stood with a group of girlfriends by a side wall. Hmm, how come the boy she liked wasn’t here? As Dalton had advised earlier, Brie had a clear path to the kitchen for a quick escape out a rear door, should their safety become compromised.
Dalton blew a police whistle. “Listen up, people. We have a real monster in our midst. We know who killed your history teacher, Bill Ripari.”
Gasps sounded around the room, along with the noise of glass breaking. Patrick had dropped a glass of punch.
“Sorry,” he said to the owner who rushed over. “I can’t stand hearing that man’s name.”
“Who is it, Mr. Vail?” asked one of the mothers in a bold tone. Marla recognized her as Hannah in her cat costume. “And is this the appropriate place to announce your news? It’s a student party. You two shouldn’t even be here.” Her gesture indicated both Marla and Dalton.
“Then why didn’t you just drop off your kid, Mrs. Westfield? Is it because you know Ricky is guilty? We’ve discovered he hacked into the school computer system last week.” Dalton nodded at the tall, gangly boy. “He altered his grade from a failing F to a passing B and stole the locker combination codes.”
“Me?” Ricky pointed to his chest, encased in a white Storm Trooper uniform. “I wouldn’t even know how to do that.”
“Or was it your mom?” Dalton pointed to Hannah. “Did she gain access to Brianna’s locker and leave her a mannequin head with a knife in its eye?”
Hannah’s jaw dropped open. “How horrible. I did no such thing. How dare you accuse either one of us? I’ll report you for harassment, officer.”
“Your son must be responsible, then. Who else among this crowd has the smarts to hack into the school system?”
“Jules can do it,” Ricky said, pointing to his friend. “He’s always bragging about how he can get around any computer. Was it you? Did you change my grade?”
“Hey, don’t complain,” Jules said with a disdainful tilt of his nose. “I did you a favor, man. I hacked into Mr. Ripari’s files and figured I’d fix a few things while I was there.”
Ricky stared at him. “Why’d you do something so stupid? I didn’t ask you to cheat on my behalf.”
“I did it for Patrick’s sake.” Jules turned to the rest of them. “Mr. Ripari was supposed to be tutoring Patrick. Instead, the filthy old man made a move on him. I’d hoped to get evidence to leak to the press. This wasn’t the first time he’d hit on a student. He couldn’t be allowed to continue his abuse.”
Patrick gazed at him in horror. “I would have gotten out of my own mess.”
“No, you wouldn’t, man. You were too afraid of disappointing your dad if you flunked history class. You let that jerk do those awful things to you so he’d give you an A.”
“Be quiet, Jules.” The boy’s voice choked. “I didn’t want anyone else to know. It’s over now anyway.”
“It’s over because I ended it. Accessing his files didn’t get me what I wanted, so I took other measures. And if Brianna and her stepmom hadn’t gone snooping, things would have been fine. You didn’t pay any attention to my warnings, did you?”
“So you’re the one who left us those gifts?” Marla said in a disbelieving tone. She found it hard to fathom that this pasty-faced kid had the chutzpah to kill a man.
Jules sneered at them. “You’re all cowards. You talk a lot, but you do nothing. I’m the only one with the guts to take action.”
Dalton’s shoulders hunched as he approached. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out about your camping trips with your father? Is that where you gained a fondness for those rose-handled knives? We got some good prints off them, but there wasn’t any match in the system. I’ll bet they match yours.”
“Those knives are my signature, man. But this can be, too.” Jules yanked the weapon off his back and waved it at the crowd. “Now this here ain’t no fake. I took it from my father’s gun collection. He’ll understand that I have to go away for a while. He’ll be proud of me for standing up for what’s right. Get out of my way.”
“Easy, son.” Dalton halted and spread his hands. “No one has to get hurt.”
“You’re damn right,” Detective Hanson said. While Dalton had captured the kid’s attention, Hanson had been edging closer from behind. Now he wrenched the weapon from Jules’s grasp.
After a brief scuffle, Dalton cuffed Jules and shoved him over to Hanson.
“He’s yours now. I don’t envy you notifying his parents.”
“I know. Hey, thanks for your help. I wasn’t sure your strategy would work. I’d have brought the kid straight in for questioning.”
Dalton gave Marla his special smile. “I’ve learned subtler methods sometimes work better.”
Marla smiled back then sobered. “I’m sorry for Jules’ family.”
“So am I.” Patrick’s disconsolate expression tore her heartstrings. “He did it for me. I’d never have wanted the history teacher to die, despite his issues.”
“People have done worse things out of loyalty,” Marla said to comfort him. She scanned the crowd. “Aren’t we missing somebody tonight? I thought Mr. Lynch had been hired to do the cleanup. Has anyone seen him around?”
Dalton poked her. “I’ll bet I know where we can find him. Let’s go. If we hurry, we might catch him in the act.”
Chapter Eight
“How did you know where to look for Mr. Lynch?” Brianna asked her father during their Sunday morning stroll at the local nature preserve. “I’d never have guessed he would have gone to the house in the woods on Halloween.”
“He knew everybody was occupied at the Halloween party,” Dalton said, thumbs hooked on his belt. “It was the perfect opportunity for him to search for proof of his parents’ marriage without fear of discovery.”
Marla kept pace along the winding path through the wetlands. The smell of dank earth and decaying vegetation filled the warm autumn air. They needed a cold spell to bring temperatures down and make walking outdoors more comfortable.
“I can’t believe he found it,” she added. “Who would have thought to look inside the hollow arm of a white plaster statue?”
“It was clever of Nathan Ripari to hide it there,” Dalton agreed. “Too bad he never got to tell Janet, his secret bride, where he’d put it. Back in his day, the property must have had lots of those statues around. Mr. Lynch was lucky this one hadn’t been sold.”
“Or broken apart by the elements,” Brianna commented as they passed a mangrove section, where tree roots reached deep into the soggy soil. “So how did you determine Mr. Lynch was their son?”
Marla tilted her head to hear the reply. They hadn’t had time to have this conversation earlier. Friday night, they’d been too tired after discovering Mr. Lynch at the historic house and exposing his identity. Then Saturday, Marla had a full day at work. Last evenin
g, she and Dalton had a dinner date with Arnie and his wife. So today was the first time they could review the case.
“His age was about right,” Dalton said, “and something about him bothered me. He’d told Marla he lived at a trailer park, but his address didn’t check out.”
“Principal Underwood hired him. You’d think he would have done a background check.” Brianna sidestepped around a tree trunk in their path.
“Thomas Lynch revealed his true identity to the principal and promised to donate a portion of his inheritance to the school if he could prove his heritage. For Underwood, it was a win-win either way. If Lynch couldn’t prove his parents’ marriage, the school would still benefit upon Mr. Ripari’s death. Meanwhile, Lynch kept close to Ripari, in case his cousin discovered the document’s hiding place.”
“How odd to think they were related,” Marla said.
“Bill Ripari was Joseph’s son, while Tom Lynch was Nathan’s kid. Joseph and Nathan were brothers. Nathan wasn’t aware Janet was pregnant when he was drafted into the army. She later married a man named Garvin Lynch.”
“So the janitor hoped to prove his heritage and stake a claim on the estate?”
“Ripari Senior meant for the property to be equally divided among his married children or their heirs. That meant Nathan’s son would be entitled to a share. Mr. Lynch knew Bill intended to sell the estate and wanted his half.”
“Wasn’t there a sister also?” Brianna asked with a confused frown.
“Yes, Joseph and Nathan had a sister, but she died childless.” Dalton paused beside a tall tree enveloped by a strangler fig. “You know what gets me. The Conroy family wasn’t left destitute after William Ripari bought their property. Frank bought a house on the New River, where he raised his two children. His son, Steven, became a lawyer and remained in the house after Frank died. Janet had remarried and lived elsewhere, but eventually the house passed to her. Steven was single and had no offspring.”
Her mind reeling, Marla resumed their walk. “Wait, so you’re saying the school janitor lives in a mansion on the New River? Those properties are worth millions.”
“Now they are. They weren’t worth much in Frank’s day. It had gotten to the point where Tom Lynch was having trouble paying taxes. He figured if he could prove his mother’s claim that she’d been married to a Ripari, he’d make enough money from the real estate deal Bill Ripari had mentioned, that he’d be comfortable into his old age.”
“Now with Mr. Ripari dead and no heirs, does that mean he inherits everything?” Brianna asked, her sneakers making squishy noises as they passed a wet section.
Vines trailed down from overhead trees, with the possibility of spider webs lurking among them. Beams of sunlight penetrated the canopy enough to illuminate some webs but not all. Marla kept a wary eye out as they progressed to drier ground. A creature slithered into the shrubbery to their left, making her scurry past.
“Vicki Sweetwater is making a claim on her daughter’s behalf.” Dalton scratched his arm. The mosquitoes wouldn’t abate until a cold front came to town.
“Vicki and Bill never married, so is her claim legit?” Marla asked, hoping Rose would gain some inheritance. It seemed only right.
“Vicki has a good lawyer. She and Tom can duke it out. While they both had motives, they didn’t kill Bill Ripari.”
“No, Jules did it to protect his friend. Mr. Ripari had been hitting on Patrick, whom he was supposed to be tutoring. The dirty old man,” Marla added with a grimace.
“What’s going to happen to the football coach?” Brianna asked.
“I suppose he’ll be fired. Plus, he may face charges for feeding steroids to his team.” Marla glanced at the teenager. “Maybe we should send you to a private school with better supervision.”
Dalton placed a soothing hand on Marla’s arm. “It’ll be safer now with everything out in the open. The teacher’s killer is in custody, and the rotten apples will be weeded out. Principal Underwood is sure to resign. The school board will be examining his role. He might have been acting in the school’s best interest but in the wrong way.”
“I guess so, and no doubt Brianna would rather remain with her friends.”
“Not all of them.” The teen’s eyes blazed. “Andy didn’t come to the Halloween party. Maya told me he had plans with Ilyssa for the night. I’d seen them together a couple of times, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to me.”
Marla gaped at her. “You mean, Andy is seeing someone else besides you? The rat. You don’t need a guy like him, honey.”
“Andy? Who’s that? Did I miss something?” Dalton shot his daughter a suspicious glare.
Marla laughed. “Get used to it, Dad. This is merely the beginning. Your daughter is growing into a lovely young lady, and boys are starting to take notice.”
“Oh, yeah? I’ll have to meet them first before they can notice my girl.”
“It’s my life. I don’t need you to interfere.” Brianna lifted her chin. “Besides, I have Marla to guide me, and she made the perfect choice for a husband. I trust her judgement.”
A warm glow filled her. Marla could handle teenage puppy love, as long as it didn’t involve murder. With a sigh of content, she strode along, rejoicing in her family and the upcoming holidays they would celebrate together.
Author’s Note
This novella is book 12.5 in the Bad Hair Day mystery series. It takes place between Peril by Ponytail and Facials Can Be Fatal. I hadn’t featured a story at Halloween before and thought it would be the perfect setting for Brianna to involve Marla in a school function. What better place for a dead body to turn up than at a haunted house?
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About the Author
As a former registered nurse, Nancy J. Cohen helped people with their physical aches and pains, but she longed to soothe their troubles in a different way. The siren call of storytelling lured her from nursing into the exciting world of fiction. Wishing she could wield a curling iron with the same skill as crafting a story, she created hairdresser Marla Shore as a stylist with a nose for crime and a knack for exposing people’s secrets.
Titles in the Bad Hair Day Mysteries have made the IMBA bestseller list, been selected by Suspense Magazine as best cozy mystery, and earned third place in the Arizona Literary Awards. Nancy is also the author of the instructional guide, Writing the Cozy Mystery. Her imaginative romances, including the Drift Lords series, have proven popular with fans as well. Her first book in this genre won the HOLT Medallion Award.
A featured speaker at libraries, conferences, and community events, Nancy is listed in Contemporary Authors, Poets & Writers, and Who’s Who in U.S. Writers, Editors, & Poets. When not busy writing, she enjoys fine dining, cruising, visiting Disney World, and shopping. Contact her at [email protected].
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Books by Nancy J. Cohen
Bad Hair Day Mysteries
/> Permed to Death
Hair Raiser
Murder by Manicure
Body Wave
Highlights to Heaven
Died Blonde
Dead Roots
Perish by Pedicure
Killer Knots
Shear Murder
Hanging by a Hair
Peril by Ponytail
Haunted Hair Nights
Facials Can Be Fatal
Hair Brained
The Drift Lords Series
Warrior Prince
Warrior Rogue
Warrior Lord
Science Fiction Romances
Keeper of the Rings
Silver Serenade
The Light-Years Series
Circle of Light
Moonlight Rhapsody
Starlight Child
Nonfiction
Writing the Cozy Mystery
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Facials Can Be Fatal Excerpt
Here’s a sneak peek at Facials Can Be Fatal, book #13 in the Bad Hair Day Mysteries
Chapter One
Marla was busy sorting foils at her salon station when screams pierced the morning air. She glanced up, her nerves on edge. And here the day had started so peacefully.
Nicole, one chair over, paused in the midst of cutting a client’s hair. “What is that God-awful noise?” the other stylist asked.
Marla dropped the foils on her roundabout. “I don’t know, but it sounds as though it’s coming from our day spa next door. Maybe someone found a palmetto bug.”
Haunted Hair Nights Page 7