False Nails and Tall Tales (The Teasen and Pleasen Hair Salon Cozy Mystery Series Book 5)

by Constance Barker

  He scratched his bald head. "A little. Not where she is, but I do know that she does website design for small businesses."

  "Was she doing something for you?"

  "Me? No. Why would I want a web site? The internet and I have mutual restraining orders. I don’t touch computers and it doesn’t send me emails. But Freddie Anders said she was working for him. The other day he asked if I’d seen her around. He said she was redoing the site for the gator farm and it was overdue. He didn’t mind that much, but she didn’t contact him at all and give him a heads up. That worried him because she’s always been very reliable. He went by her place and she wasn’t there. I imagine that if you call him he can give you her cell phone number and email address if thats any help.”

  “It might be," Woodley said. He looked at me. “It’s really nice that nowadays my phone actually still works even when I go back in time to Knockemstiff, bastion of the past."

  "Nice for some," I said. “Not so great for Luddites.”

  Sanders laughed. “Once you’ve gotten used to how convenient it is to have a cell phone you’ll appreciate them and start to wonder how you ever got along without them.”

  "That’s part of my concern. I like not having my purse ring whenever someone wants to chat. I’d hate to think I might get used to it.”

  "There’s no danger of her learning how convenient they are," Nellie said. "The woman would actually have to buy a cell phone before she could learn to use it, much less get addicted to using them.”

  I looked over at Ellen Hart, our mayor. She sat next to the coffee pot, waiting for her appointment with Nellie. She had her face in a cell phone and clearly was no part of the conversation. “There is a picture of the future that frightens me," I said. "Everyone isolated by efficient communications."

  James wasn’t going to give in.” Every significant new invention comes with its ups and downs, pluses and minuses. No big cultural shift or progress comes without creating bumps in the road to navigate."

  "I have to say I like a man who can mix his metaphors so artlessly," Nellie said. "Such total disregard for language shows a confidence that is admirable."

  Woodley grinned. "In my defense, they were not mixed. Those were separate thoughts in separate sentences, each deserving it’s own, unique metaphor."

  She snorted. "Nice try, good sir but I’m not letting you off that lightly. As metaphors go, they weren’t even particularly creative or illustrative. Ups and downs, pluses and minuses, and bumps in the road? Plebeian attempts at best."

  "I was improvising. Besides, when you hit bumps in the road you go up and down, right?"

  "Not buying it Investigator, never Inspector."

  He frowned. "Why, exactly, did I get stuck with that? I thought nicknames were supposed to be short and clever."

  "Like good metaphors?" Nellie asked.

  I had to interrupt their banter. "It’s because you said it so many times, correcting people," I said.

  "Besides, we decided it’s cute," Nellie added. "Sarah likes it, which was the cement that set it in place for all time, or at least the foreseeable future. If it helps, think of it as your penalty for metaphor abuse."

  "Is that cement thing supposed to be an example of a good metaphor?"

  "It isn’t an example of anything. It was a good metaphor, however."

  He shook his head. "I’ll let you two get back to whatever it is you were doing, or annoying whoever else you were annoying. I’m taking Sanders’ suggestion about calling Freddie Anders and get Trinity’s information."

  Nellie nodded toward Ellen. "Even closer to home, you might want to check with Ms. Oblivious over there. She uses the internet for her real estate business and her never-ending ‘Citizens to reelect Hart for mayor’ campaign. She isn’t a computer person, so someone did those sites for her."

  Woodley nodded. "Now there is a useful suggestion. See there, Savannah, I can accept useful suggestions. I’ll talk to her and then call Trinity on my cell phone, the way people who adapt to change do in this age."

  He flashed a superior grin and went over to sit beside Ellen. She ignored him until he tapped her arm. She looked up at him, gave him a far more pleasant and welcoming smile than I would’ve hoped for and then they started talking. "Trinity?" She said cheerfully. "Why yes, she’s done work for me."

  "Speaking of changes," Nellie said, "there’s one for you. A mere week ago if you’d mentioned that woman’s name in a whisper she would have heard it a quarter of a mile away. Now you can shout it, because she is searching for references to herself online and doesn’t hear us talking about her."

  "Then maybe there are some advantages to this new-fangled tech after all," I agreed.

  "But you really aren’t convinced? Is the jury still out?"

  "I’m not even sure the evidence has all been presented yet."

  "You are a tough sell," Nellie laughed. "Always have been."

  # # #

  "Savannah Jeffries, I’ve brought some home-made pecan pie. Fresh from the oven." That was the way Dolores made her entrance, sweeping into the salon on the fragrant waves of her baking. It smelled fantastic and just a sniff got me hungry again. "I thought a nice sweet might help everyone get over the tragedy."

  Dolores didn’t have an appointment, not that she ever needed one to drop in, but I was surprised to see her. I was sure that the disapproving Dr. Charles Fimbus wouldn’t be happy if he found out, and she’d been a member of the church he’d taken over as long as I could remember.

  I wondered if the pie was an apology. For all her flaws, Dolores was a good baker and often won prizes at church socials for her pies. And what human creature can resist pecan pie? Odds are the smell of it would draw people into the salon like flies. Actually, more like people on the trail of fresh pecan pie.

  She carried it to the table by the coffee urn. She had a paper bag as well, and started taking out paper plates and plastic forks. She seemed fidgety.

  Nellie went over to the table. "The problem we have Dolores, is that this is a public place and for all I know that pie might be poison," she said. "I better make a scientific test in the interests of public safety."

  "Well, that’s our public-spirited Nellie." I was glad to see that she was willing to let bygones slip away in the interest of sweets.

  "Our Nellie is well known for putting the public ahead of her own interests," Mrs. Ourso said. She was looking at the hand Nellie had finished with pleasure while the other soaked. "Just don’t consume it all for testing purposes, Nellie. Some of us aren’t in a position to dash over and protect our interests."

  Dolores made a cute move that blocked Nellie from getting to the pie. She stood in front of it and brandishing a knife. "I’ll serve it. I’ll cut it in thin slices so there’s enough to go around. Pete, I know you love my pie, would you like me to bring you a piece?"

  Clearly she was trying to make some amends for the nasty encounter. Pete looked over at me and I locked eyes with him, then tipped my head. I’m not sure why, but it seemed the right gesture.

  "That would be nice, Dolores," he said, holding my gaze. "Thank you." It was stilted and forced, but Dolores either didn’t notice or pretended not to.

  "Wonderful," she said.

  "Curses, foiled again," Nellie muttered as she watched Dolores start to cut the pie. "Say, Dolores, you do know there is a difference between thin slices and those that are downright skinny, right?"

  Dolores applied herself to the slicing task, taking her time. “Nellie Phlint, you know I make very rich pies." She put a piece on each paper plate, and carried two over to Pete’s station where he was cutting Selina’s hair. "One for each of you," Dolores said setting them down. As she moved away, Nellie went to the table and grabbed a piece of pie for herself and Mrs. Ourso and took them to her station.

  "I’m really surprised you are here, Dolores," I told her as she brought me a slice. It seemed best to bring things out into the open air a bit.” Won’t you get in trouble with Dr. Fimbus?"


  "I don’t care," she said. She tried to sound firm, but her voice wobbled. “I think he means well himself, but there are some men in that congregation that… well they intend to take things too far.”

  That sent up a red flag. “How far do they intend to take things, Dolores?”

  “I think they intend to burn down those moonshiners.”

  “Which ones?” Nellie asked sounding frantic.

  “That big old family way out in the swamp… the Ratkovich clan. One man said it wasn’t right that the family was able to hide the evidence from the federal agents. He was saying that if the police can’t do God’s work they’ll have to do it themselves.”

  “When?” I asked.

  She swallowed. “Tonight.”

  I dashed for the phone but Nellie was already dialing.

  “Wait,” Pete said.

  Nellie froze, staring at him. “What?”

  “If you call the chief will want to know how you know.” He nodded at Dolores. “Someone could suffer unfairly.”

  That was true. Outing Dolores would be terrible for her. “Then how do we stop this?”

  Pete smiled. “I feel the need to get back down to BaconUp. Margie owes me a favor and I’ll bet being the one to make an anonymous tip would tickle her. She has no love for Dr. Fimbus and she was just telling me how dull things were around here. As a concerned citizen, if she overheard people planning something terrible, she’d feel the need to call it in.”

  He grinned and walked out the door.

  I looked at Nellie. “He’s right.”

  She pursed her lips. “Just in case, I’m calling Barbara Ratkovich.”

  “Tell Ratty to be careful,” I said.

  # # #

  When Nadine Hines came into the salon the next day she was breathless. It was unusual for her to just wander in when she didn’t have an appointment. Rather than sit and listen to gossip, whenever possible she preferred to be a source. It flattered her that given her job, working as the police dispatcher and receptionist, she often had actual inside information that she got from being at the police station. That gave her status.

  There were times, however, when the story was so big that she couldn’t keep it bottled up. She would be dying to tell someone and didn’t have the patience to wait to be sought out. At times like those, like today, wandering into the salon to have coffee and be sociable, solved her problem. With no more than a few hints of something big, she could usually count on someone to ask questions. She’d claim she couldn’t divulge police business, but we all knew that sooner or later she would reluctantly let us pry the story out of her, while pretending she was doing us a favor by sharing information.

  Today Nadine came in acting as if she dropped by most days, taking a moment to stoop down to pet Finnegan before going to the coffee urn. Her posture said it all. She was stiff as a board.

  It was Nellie who opened the door to the topic without forcing Nadine to even drop a single hint. "You know I heard quite a ruckus last night, Nadine. Never heard the like before. I swear that more sirens passed by our neck of the woods than Knockemstiff has police cars. I’m sure you know what the heck was going on. Why don’t you share?"

  I was impressed that Nellie said it as if she didn’t have clue what it might be. Naturally no one asked why they hadn’t poked their heads out and found out what was going on. Everyone wanted to hear Nadine’s story.

  Everyone but Dolores who looked like a deer in headlights. She squirmed in her seat and I had to guess she was fearful that her name, her part in things would come up. The fact that she’s done the right thing didn’t mean she wanted the world to know she’d betrayed her church group, even if it turned out okay. Sometimes even Dolores saw the value in keeping a low profile.

  Nadine couldn’t maintain her reluctant ‘need to know’ posture long. I watched her face as she struggled with what she wanted to say, and how to say it. We all knew she had to have mixed emotions about what happened and I was curious how her version of events would square with what Woodley would tell me later. And he would tell me, if I had to twist his arm.

  "Chief Tanner had a tip that there was going to be trouble last night," Nadine told us.

  "Trouble?"

  "I heard there was some kind of mob," Pete said.

  Nadine wasn’t about to let the gossip slip out of her hands. “What actually happened is that some outraged people, citizens intended to go after those moonshiners—those Ratkoviches. They were angry that the federal agents hadn’t arrested them.”

  I wrinkled my nose. "You are talking about vigilantes? Here in Knockemstiff?"

  She didn’t like it said that way. "I guess. That was the word he used. Anyway, he had some of the Sheriff’s men on standby… those were the other sirens. Officer Hayes was patrolling the road out by their place and he saw them heading for the house. When he saw them pouring gasoline on the house and the outbuilding where they keep their still, he called for backup."

  "There are times when working at home can be dangerous, I guess," Pete said. "I hope he stopped them before someone was hurt."

  She nodded. “Because of the bravery of Digby Hayes and the other deputies, the… vigilantes were apprehended at the scene. They never had a chance to set the fire or do any damage.”

  "Did they arrest them… the vigilantes?"

  She still cringed every time someone used that word. "They arrested the ringleader." Even that word came out like it tasted bad.

  "I heard that these vigilantes were all from Dr. Fimbus’s congregation," Pete said. "The rumor was they were doing what he said. Is there any truth to that?"

  Nadine bit her lip. "Unfortunately some of them were members of our church. They let one man convince them to take an extreme view of Dr. Fimbus’s teachings."

  "The interpretation was a fairly literal one, from my perspective," Nellie said. “I saw him in front of Ellen’s house, calling for his followers to take action against the sinners."

  "He never said to set fire to their house."

  "I suppose not."

  "And the ringleader wasn’t even a man from this town. He had just come here recently.”

  "So why did they follow him? What did he have to do with ending sin in our town?"

  “Apparently he’d been a member of Dr. Fimbus’s congregation at another church. I suppose he came here to see if he’d like to move to Knockemstiff. He told people that he knew what Dr. Fimbus wanted and expected. Some gullible people believed him even though I know in my heart that Dr. Fimbus would not tolerate them harming anyone or destroying their property."

  "So what does the good Doctor say about it all?" I asked.

  Nadine and Dolores both stared at me. "What do you mean?" Nadine asked.

  "Well, the man hasn’t been shy about expressing his opinions on the behavior of almost everyone in town, including me. I assume that under the circumstances, he would comment on the actions of his flock. I was curious if he had the strength of character to condemn them for trying to burn a family in their home."

  "They wouldn’t have set the fire with them inside," Nadine said.

  "So they gave them warning?"

  "I don’t know."

  "Even if you’re right, I’d still like to know if Dr. Fimbus agrees with you that these people went too far."

  "Of course he does."

  “Then he should say so publicly.”

  "I’m certain he will. This just happened last night. Why must you think so badly of him?"

  "Because he’s been so judgmental about everyone else and because it seems to me that this mob did exactly what he wanted, except for getting caught. He was advocating that the people take action since the law wouldn’t."

  Nellie raised her coffee mug. "Kind of makes me wonder… seeing as you are so big on law and order, even part of our police force, Nadine, doesn’t that seem wrong to you?"

  She shook her head sadly. "I do think his mistrust of the elected and appointed authorities is misguided. He and I disagree on that.
"

  "And I’m sure you wouldn’t tolerate someone breaking the law, even if you agreed with their goal,” Nellie said as she poured herself more coffee.

  "Of course not. What, exactly are you saying?"

  "Just thinking, not saying and I’m thinking that whoever tipped off the police had to be someone who was part of the church.” I saw Dolores tense up. “They had to have heard the people talking about their plans to know what to tell the police."

  “I suppose they had to, before they could call Chief Tanner," Nadine said, agreeing.

  "Right. So someone wanted to make certain that people didn’t get hurt; someone who believed in Dr. Fimbus but thought things were getting out of hand called it in. I wonder who that could be?"

  Nadine’s cheeks grew flush. "Are you saying you think I’m the one who called in the tip? What do you think of me?"

  "Nadine, I have no idea who made that call. How would I know? I was just thinking out loud that it could’ve been you. If it was then I’d think you were following your conscience and doing what was right. Sounding the alarm prevented a number of people from being hurt. And, if it was you, then I’d say you kept good people from acting badly and that would be a very good thing. I’d be thinking I was proud of you."

  It was all I could do to keep from bursting out with laughter. Nellie had done the impossible. With a deft bit of praise she’d taken any suspicion from Dolores, put it on Nadine and made it something to be proud of. The look on Nadine’s face was priceless. She was obviously delighted to our ‘mistake’ stand.

  "I do need to get back to the office," she said. "You have a vivid imagination, Nellie Phlint. Don’t let your thoughts and imaginings get confused with facts."

  "I’ll try not to, Nadine."

  As she left, some of the color was coming back to Dolores’ face. As the rightful recipient of Nellie’s praise, it helped her feel better about what she’d done.

  I gave Nellie a smile of extreme approval and she winked back.

  Pete got himself a cup of coffee and on his way back to his station he took the long way, passing close to Nellie.