“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath,” Willow said and Wednesday followed her instructions. “Now tell me what happened.”
“Well, I came here. And the nail salon door was unlocked so I went right in.” Wednesday shuddered and closed her eyes. “Believe me, I’m going to start knocking everywhere I go from now on. Even if it’s a place of business. If I don’t get a response, I’m leaving. I can’t have this keep happening.”
“So Becca was already dead when you arrived?”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t notice her through the window as you walked up?” Willow asked.
“I went straight to the door. And I guess, now that you mention it, not all the lights were on when I got here. The police turned them on like this so they could see. There were just a few lights on, and I must have thought that Becca didn’t want people to know that she was really open.”
Willow took a moment to check her cell phone. She had explained to Griffin what had happened, and he had sent her a text reminding her to let him know how Wednesday was when she got home – regardless of the hour. He joked that he probably wouldn’t do much relaxing that night now anyway. However, what Willow had really wanted to see was the time. It was 11:30 p.m.
“Wednesday, what were you doing here so late?”
She shrugged. “I was supposed to be getting my nails done.”
Willow peered down at her sister’s nails. They obviously had not been done recently, and Willow cringed as she realized that a few fingers were ringed with deep red that must have been from blood. Wednesday must have checked the body for signs of life. Her sister had said last time that she thought she was always supposed to check for a pulse. That must have been what she did again, and the blood had gotten on her fingers. The only other possibility was that Wednesday could have… No. Checking for a pulse was the only possible reason.
“I want to check in with Dad for a minute,” Willow said. “Will you be all right?”
Wednesday nodded. Willow didn’t want to leave her alone for long, but she wanted to find out as much as she could about what had happened. Her father might be able to shed more light on the subject than Wednesday’s confused account.
Willow entered the nail salon, careful not to touch anything. With all the officers wandering around and evidence markers on the floor, it didn’t look like the same place she had visited that afternoon. She waited for her father to wave her forward and used the opportunity to look around.
The shop appeared to have been closed for the night. Most of the tools and accoutrements that had adorned the tables had been put away. However, the table that Willow had seen Becca use earlier in the day was still set up, ready to provide someone with polished nails. Though Willow didn’t consider herself an expert on manicures, there did appear to be one item that was missing from the table. Unfortunately, that nail file appeared to have been used as the murder weapon.
Willow forced herself to look at the body now that she was closer. It was very grim to see someone that she had seen alive and well earlier in the day now lying dead on the tiled floor.
Frank gestured for her to move closer and Willow obliged, still treading carefully so she wouldn’t disturb any potential evidence. His face was stony and serious, even more so than usual when he was on the job.
Instead of greeting her, he began with, “I have to show you something.”
She nodded and followed him behind the front desk where the salon’s appointment book was kept. He gestured towards the page for that day. It looked as if Wednesday had made an official appointment to see Becca after all. She was listed as Becca’s last appointment for the day. While that wasn’t surprising based on what the nail tech had said in front of Willow earlier, what was surprising was the time. Willow’s appointment was listed as 7:00 p.m. and it was hours past that.
“She must have changed the time,” Willow said simply.
“This is messy,” Frank said, allowing his hands to rest on his belt. “Wednesday is going to have to be taken in for questioning.”
“Why?” Willow asked, feeling instantly defensive. “Because she found two dead bodies? That could happen to anyone. In fact, I came across one of them. Why aren’t I being questioned?”
“You were,” Frank reminded her.
Willow took a deep breath. She needed to remain calm. She couldn’t let her protective feelings towards her little sister stop her from thinking rationally. That wouldn’t help the killer get caught.
“But you can’t think that Wednesday was involved in this, can you?” Willow asked.
“I don’t,” Frank replied. However, it wasn’t the reassuring response that Willow had hoped for. Instead, she got the sense that even though Frank believed in Wednesday’s innocence, there could be other people who didn’t.
“But I shouldn’t sit in during this questioning,” Frank continued. “I can’t allow it to look like she is getting special treatment. Either because of her relationship to me or because of her job as secretary.”
Willow bit her lip as she looked out the window at her little sister, still sitting on the curb. She couldn’t help thinking that Wednesday was a victim in all this too. Willow had never seen her sister so upset before, and she clearly was going to have nightmares over this.
Willow tried to tell herself that Wednesday being questioned was just like it was the last time, when they both needed to make a statement. Of course, Wednesday needed to tell the police what she saw when she arrived on the scene so that the information could be used to help them catch the person who was really responsible.
As much as she tried to convince herself of this, she couldn’t deny that this time felt different.
She and her father watched as Detective Denton and another officer spoke to Wednesday, still seated on the pavement. Detective Denton helped her to her feet but led her to the patrol car with a serious expression on his face. This questioning definitely seemed different from the last time. Even though the young detective seemed a tad embarrassed, he had Wednesday ride in the back of the car.
Willow bristled. That was where they had the criminals sit, and Wednesday was no criminal. Frank must have been thinking along similar lines. His steely eyes met hers.
Willow knew she was going to have to find out what was going on and fast.
5
Willow threw the ball and watched as a happy retriever grabbed the ball and bounded back, living up to his namesake. She complimented him on his speed and he wagged his tail before chasing after the ball she threw again. Midas deserved some time with his favorite activity after all the hard work he had done during his training that morning. Though he was generally very gentle, the dog needed to learn not to use his full strength when he got excited going on a walk with his new young owner. After a few rounds of fetch, his owners arrived and Willow let the dog show off his progress. They left smiling and promising to post about Midas’s new skills online.
Willow checked the clock as the family left and saw it was just about time for the free play session at her gym to begin. She didn’t have any other appointments for the day, and she planned on using her time to try to figure out what was happening with the investigation
“Shelly,” she called out.
Her excitable assistant came running. The younger woman was as fast as a greyhound and as hyper as a Jack Russell, and Willow was happy to have her at the gym.
“Do you think that you and the team could supervise free play today without me? I have an errand I want to run.”
“Sure.” Shelly nodded. “It should be fine today because I know a lot of people are at that perfume festival this weekend. But it’s starting to get really busy here some days. And we have been getting more calls from new customers who want to train with us. We’re starting to get inundated. It’s not a bad problem to have. But it might be a problem we have.”
“I’ll look into that,” Willow said. “I thought after the dog food ad premiered, we might have a rush of business and we’d ne
ed to adapt. Maybe it’s beginning early.”
“Is the errand that you have to run something to do with the dog food ad?”
“Sort of,” Willow said, running a hand through her hair. “I thought I might visit Cassandra Miller.”
“At her boutique?” Shelly asked, bopping up and down on her toes. “That’s a wonderful idea! She’s got a great selection of athleisure clothes that’s sure to impress the dog food people.”
Willow smiled. It seemed like her cover story was going to work. While she was interested in finding some new clothes to wear to her meetings with the executives who she was sure expected her to dress like a dog trainer and not in business attire, her main reason to speak with Cassandra was because she had been friends with both of the victims. Willow wanted to see what she could learn from her. If Shelly believed it, then Cassandra should too.
“Thanks,” Willow said. “That’s just what I was thinking.”
“Cassandra is such a sweet person. She helped me pick out these pants!” Shelly modeled the form-fitting-yet-still-modest black and pink leggings she was wearing.
Willow nodded appreciatively. Maybe Cassandra would be able to provide her with some options for some cute outfits and some potential suspects.
Willow entered Belle Boutique and admired its charm. The shop was divided into different sections of apparel, and Willow wandered into the athletic section, hoping to find the owner. There wasn’t anyone else in the place, and Willow wondered if the perfume festival was a bigger deal than she gave it credit for. This would work to her advantage though because this could allow for one-on-one conversation.
“Hello,” Cassandra said as she emerged from what Willow guessed was her office with some hats. She placed them in a display on her counter and assured Willow she would be right with her.
“Thanks, Cassandra.”
She seemed momentarily surprised to be called by her name but then recognition dawned. “It’s Willow, isn’t it? You own the dog gym?”
“That’s right. And I think one of my dog trainers is one of your biggest fans. She loves this boutique.”
“That’s nice,” Cassandra said with a small smile.
While she finished up with the hats, Willow took a moment to try to analyze her behavior. Cassandra wasn’t outwardly emotional, but based on their few interactions this didn’t seem unusual. She had always seemed pretty subdued, and she was at her place of business.
“It’s because of my dog business that I’m here today,” Willow said, trying to keep the conversation rolling. “I have some meetings with executives from a dog food brand I am going to represent, and I’ll be bringing along the champion dog I trained. Their image is fun and fit, and I was hoping I could find something here.”
“I think I have some things you might like. And it’s not very busy now. If you’d like some assistance picking things, I’d be happy to help.”
“I’d love that,” Willow said truthfully.
Together they picked out a few different styles of athletic tops and bottoms, making sure to find items that would fit Willow’s petite frame. Cassandra carried the hangers full of clothes to the changing room and hung them on the door. Willow entered the small room and selected her first outfit, the one she was least sure about, rationalizing that it could only get better from there. She tried it on and then walked outside the room to get Cassandra’s opinion near the larger mirrors.
“It’s not bad,” the boutique owner said. “But I think the angle of the lines on the pants call attention to your shorter height. If you’re wanting to exude power during a business meeting, we might want to look at some other styles.”
“Good idea,” Willow said, nodding. She was grateful for the advice, and that it helped provide her with an idea for subtly bringing up the murder. “I really appreciate you helping me with this. Normally, my sister would give me fashion advice. But she hasn’t been feeling up to this sort of thing lately. She stumbled upon a crime scene and…” Willow raised a hand to her mouth as Cassandra frowned. “Oh my goodness. How insensitive of me. You must have known the victims as well?”
Cassandra paused. “You mean Patricia and Becca?”
“I’m so sorry. Both for bringing it up and for your loss,” Willow said, hoping that she had played her cards right and that this might motivate the other woman to open up.
“Thank you. And it’s all right,” Cassandra said, though she was focusing on the clothes as she spoke. “This must be very difficult for Wednesday too.”
“She has been upset. Still, she didn’t know them that well. It’s not the same as losing friends like it is for you.”
“It really has been a shock, losing longtime friends like this. Especially in such a violent way,” Cassandra said with a shudder. “We were no longer close like we were at the beginning of high school.”
“No?”
“No. It wasn’t like it used to be.” Cassandra pointed to the next outfit on the door, one with silver accents on it. “Why don’t you try that one on? I bet it will look great.”
“Sure,” Willow said, smiling brightly before she retreated back into the dressing room. She changed her clothes and tried to think of a way to keep Cassandra talking.
“It’s funny,” Willow said through the door. “I’m not friends with most of the people I went to high school with. Maybe I’ve changed as a person and we wouldn’t get along anymore. Like how your style changes as you get older. Do you think that happens? Do you think people change?”
“Some people. Though I think Becca and Patricia were exactly the same as they were in high school.”
“What was that like?”
She heard Cassandra sigh. “I think we might have been mean to people who were less popular than us. I tried not to be. But I might have been a bit of a pushover. Maybe I have changed a bit. I mean – I do run my own business now.”
“And you sell fabulous clothes,” Willow assured her. This time when she emerged and stood before the mirrors, she liked what she saw. It was stylish without being flashy.
“I love this on you,” Cassandra cooed.
“I’ll definitely buy it,” Willow said. “I think I might want to get a few more pieces though.”
“Of course,” Cassandra said. She picked up the matching lavender top and bottom and handed them to her. “Try this next.”
Willow obeyed and moved on to the next set of clothes.
“When you said they hadn’t changed,” Willow said, hoping it sounded casual, “does that mean that you think Becca and Patricia were still mean?”
“Oh. I don’t know. Not really,” Cassandra said quickly, though Willow got the sense that she was backtracking to make herself sound nicer. “Like I said, we weren’t really close anymore. It’s a shame that now we won’t ever have the chance to be again. But I suppose since he came to town, Daniel had been a wedge between us.”
Willow hurried with her change so that she could see Cassandra’s face again. When she emerged, Cassandra was looking wistful.
“That’s Daniel Blakemore?” Willow asked.
“That’s right,” Cassandra said with a sad smile and a distant look in her eyes. “But I guess Daniel isn’t between anyone now.”
“You mean because Becca and Patricia are dead?” Willow asked, not able to keep an eyebrow from raising.
“Because…” Cassandra trailed off for a moment and looked her in the eye. “I thought everyone already knew. Because he’s in jail.”
“Jail,” Willow repeated. She tried to think of previous Pineview cases and something clicked into place. It hadn’t been her father’s case, but she had heard something about a robbery a week or so ago. Now that she was pressed into remembering, she did recall that the perpetrator was someone named Blakemore. She hadn’t made the connection to high school or to the deceased women. However, she couldn’t remember all the details of the crime and hoped that Cassandra might be willing to update her.
“How did that happen?” Willow asked.
&n
bsp; She sensed that Cassandra had been bottling her feelings about the robbery because she burst forth with a plethora of information.
“Daniel isn’t a bad man. Believe me. I know him. We used to date in high school. And even now, we still care for one another. I wish he would have told me about this plan before he tried it, so I could have told him it was a bad idea. What he did wasn’t malicious. It was just foolish.”
“He robbed some place?” Willow offered.
“A nail salon. Polished.”
“That’s Becca’s salon,” Willow said surprised.
“That’s right,” Cassandra said conspiratorially. “He must have heard Becca talking about how good business had been lately and decided to rob the place. But Becca wasn’t in on it. She had no idea that was his plan. And she was a little upset by it.”
“I’ve been to Polished recently,” Willow said, not adding that she had actually been there twice – once when it was dubbed a crime scene. “It didn’t look like it had been the victim of a robbery. There wasn’t any damage.”
“I think he just broke one window or something. I’m not sure. I don’t know too much about the details of the actual crime. I just know the aftermath.”
“That he was caught?”
Cassandra nodded sadly. “Caught and sent to jail. They didn’t find the money on him, but there was a witness who fingered him for it. Actually, it was Patricia who ratted him out.”
“And now she’s dead,” Willow said quietly to herself.
“I don’t know why Patricia would do that. But Becca told me that Patricia was the one who turned Daniel in. She learned it from the police secretary herself.”
“You mean Wednesday?” Willow asked, trying to keep calm as she heard her sister brought up in relation to the crime again.
“I guess so,” Cassandra said with a shrug. “Small world, isn’t it?”
The Bark of the Town Page 4