Wave Good-Bye

by Lila Dare

  “Good morning,” I said to her. “I brought scones and muffins from Jergens.”

  “You’re kidding!” Carol’s smile lit up her face. “That’s my favorite bakery. Since they’re on the other side of town, I don’t get their treats often.”

  Even Suzee smiled a little. Not much, but enough to show me she wasn’t completely averse to being friendly. The three of us started toward the back door, but the sound of a big motor stopped us. Wynn drove into the parking lot, his black Porsche purring as it came to a stop. The passenger door opened and out stepped Eve. The set of her shoulders suggested trouble in paradise. With an “oomph,” she slammed the car door and walked away from Wynn. If she’d bid him farewell, it might have been private or quiet, because I didn’t see any indication she regretted leaving his company.

  All four of us entered the salon after I unlocked the door and punched in the security code. Carol lingered until I unwrapped the bakery treats. After grabbing one quickly, she headed for her office. Suzee puttered around making herself coffee, but finally came over to examine the treats. I could almost see the indecision before she reached out and grabbed a scone. “Why not take one home for your daughter?” I suggested.

  Her eyes narrowed. I stood my ground.

  “What about my daughter?” she asked.

  “I said you should take something home to her. I remember how I enjoyed it when women would bring my mother baked goods.” I shrugged in a friendly way. “I figured your child might enjoy a treat, too.”

  “You don’t mind?” Suzee hesitated.

  “Of course not. Please help yourself.”

  Using a paper towel, she scooped up a blueberry muffin. She also picked out one candied ginger scone before she left for her workstation.

  Our doors opened promptly at nine to a much-reduced crowd from the day before. Corina did a super job of handling the flow, and I took care of three customers before glancing at the clock and realizing it was time for Eve to meet my mother.

  “Eve, do you have many women friends?” I wondered as we traveled in my blue Ford Fiesta the few short blocks to Violetta’s.

  “No.” She shrugged. “You’d think I would, being in this business. My mom died when I was young. It’s always been Papa and me. We lived in a bad neighborhood when he started his business, so he sent me to a Roman Catholic school. Those nuns were strict. They kept us busy from the first bell to the last. My aunt Maria would meet me at the gate to the school and walk me home. She cracked the whip, making sure I did my homework. By the time I made it to college, Papa was teaching me how to run Snippets, so I took business courses at the community college so I could work around the salon schedules.”

  “That’s a shame,” I said, as I parked in front of the house, next to Mom’s car. “Because growing up around women has been the best part of living in a salon. It’s sad to think that you missed out. Come on. I’ll take you to meet my mother.”

  When I called earlier to see if we could drop by, Mom confirmed to me that she’d moved in with Walter, at least temporarily. She’d agreed to meet us at Violetta’s a little after lunch. “I feel awkward about living with a man who isn’t my husband, even if I am a squatter in his guest bedroom. So let me meet you there, all right?”

  I assured her that Eve simply wanted to apologize, and that the meeting place didn’t matter, but on second thought, I wanted Eve to see the salon, so we set this up. Although Violetta’s wasn’t swanky like Snippets, there was a cozy ambience—and I felt like Eve should see another side of this business. A warmer, more personal and intimate one.

  My throat got a lump in it as I walked my new friend to the front door. I missed the snug and friendly atmosphere and wished that the salon was still in full swing so she could get a taste of the camaraderie all of us had enjoyed.

  A camaraderie I hoped to reestablish starting today. I’d text messaged Althea, Stella, and Rachel, inviting them to come by in the afternoon so we could discuss their employment.

  “Wynn drove me past this place several times,” said Eve as she stopped to admire the last of the season’s roses, the four-o’clocks, and the spicy-smelling mums in bronze, yellow, and orange that formed a broad band of firelike color surrounding the screened-in front porch. “Such a lovely setting. Almost like a Southern garden.”

  I laughed. “That’s because it is.”

  Mom met us at the front door. “Welcome, Eve.” And she gave my friend a hug. For a second, Eve stiffened, then she softened into the embrace, her whole body releasing its tension.

  “I came to apologize, Mrs. Terhune. My papa taught me to deal honestly and fairly with people. Arturo Sebastiani would be ashamed if he knew what Lisa Butterworth did to you and your business. Not only did she abuse my trust in her, she also abused Grace Ann’s trust. Worst of all, she did this while in the name of our business, and that grieves me terribly. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive us.”

  Even though I’d known Eve was here to apologize, I was still shocked by her little speech. Mom’s face betrayed that she, too, was surprised by how fervent Eve’s words were.

  “Of course I accept your apology. Welcome to Violetta’s…such as it is.”

  Eve nodded solemnly. “I hope I can find a way to make it up to you for what happened. I understand that you are closed temporarily because of the mold situation?”

  “I spoke to my insurance adjuster yesterday. He’s going to see what he can do,” Mom said, lifting her chin slightly.

  She didn’t mention the problem with the historic register. I guess Mom felt it was best to take things one step at a time.

  “Now that you’re here, may I show you around?” In any crisis, good Southern manners will save the day. Although the slightly puzzled look on Mom’s face told me she was still a bit shocked by Eve’s fervent regrets, my mother had tapped her own personal default key and reverted back to her upbringing. A guest is always welcome in our home, and Violetta’s had always been a home first and a salon second.

  Since Snippets is so austere by comparison, I wasn’t entirely sure how Eve would react, but she seemed to have a sincere appreciation for how comfy the space was. She stopped immediately to admire the wicker furniture in the customer waiting area.

  “I love the hanging ferns. Oh! And look at all the potted violets! Just like your name!” Eve cooed, as she examined the purple, pink, and white floral display clustered on the windowsill.

  Mom nodded. “Most of these were given to me by customers. That’s one reason I cherish them.”

  Of course, the visit was old hat to me. As usual, the dust motes danced in the morning light as the sunbeams angled through the wooden blinds. The wide, heart-of-pine floorboards were kind under our feet, which makes a huge difference when you are standing up for hours. The magazines were newish, with corners comfortably worn by many thumbs.

  “Stella is coming for Beauty later today,” said Mom as the snub-nosed Persian deigned to climb off her blue velvet cushion and walk over to us. Beauty tilted her head, making a judgment, and went straight for Eve’s arms. To my surprise, my boss caught her and nestled her face in Beauty’s fur.

  “Listen! She’s purring,” said Eve with all the excitement of a child.

  As Mom led the way, Eve walked around as if in a trance, while stroking Beauty. But she froze when she saw the figurehead from the Santa Elisabeta, a Spanish galleon that sank off the Georgia coast in the 1500s. Her gaze fixed without blinking on the statue occupying a spot on the wall behind the counter, where she provided benevolent supervision to all our labors.

  “Saint Elizabeth, who was cured of her barrenness to give birth to John the Baptist, may her name be ever blessed,” she said in a whisper. “I prayed to her, all during Advent. I said, ‘Give children to those who ask and faith to those who are barren of heart,’ and she answered me.” A strange expression of ecstasy came over Eve’s face as she stared up at the likeness of the saint.

  “She has led me here for a reason. I know it. See? I’m g
etting goose bumps.” Eve extended her arm for me to examine. After I nodded, Eve continued to stand and stare at the wooden likeness. Mom and I exchanged glances of surprise. Most people admire Santa Elisabeta, but this was beyond simple appreciation. It was as if Eve was mesmerized.

  “Eve?” I touched her elbow gently, not wishing to scare her, but hoping I could bring my new boss back to earth.

  With a shake of her head, Eve returned her attention to our shop. “Uh, right, I guess we better get going. It’s just that Elizabeth is my patron saint. I never expected to see a statue of her, especially in such an unexpected place. I mean, if we were in a church or a museum, that would make sense, but in a salon? It’s…it’s like a miracle.”

  “God works in mysterious ways,” Mom said, taking Beauty from Eve’s arms.

  This was all too woo-woo for me. I glanced at my watch. “I think we’d better get back.”

  Mom hugged Eve again. “I would have served you refreshments, but with the mold and all, we really shouldn’t stay here for long.”

  “Mrs. Terhune, I’d like to formally invite you to come work with us at Snippets. At least until you’re back up and running. The offer is open to any of your staff as well. When you reopen the doors on Violetta’s, you can take all your old and new customers with you. I promise.”

  Mom pulled on her earlobe nervously. “I don’t know what to say! That’s incredibly generous of you. I will talk to my staff. If they are agreeable, we’ll drop by later today. By the way, please give your father my regards. We’ve never met, but I hope we will someday. He’s an icon in this business.”

  Eve’s face crumpled. “I’d do that Mrs. Terhune, but it won’t really matter. Dad has frontotemporal dementia, a sort of Alzheimer’s. The disease has radically changed his personality and his behavior. He’s not at all the man he once was. He barely recognizes me these days.”

  “How long has he had this diagnosis?” Mom asked, the horror written large on her face.

  “It’s a rapid-onset disease. He was fine until about six months ago.” Her voice grew soft. “Fortunately, it takes people rapidly, so he won’t suffer long.”

  “Oh, I am so, so sorry!” Mom said.

  Eve gave her a watery smile. “So am I, Mrs. Terhune. So am I.”

  Chapter Forty-eight

  BACK AT THE SHOP, I ASKED CAROL IF SHE’D LIKE TO join me for a quick bite at Subway. I was more determined than ever to figure out who killed Lisa Butterworth, and to clear Eve. My invitation was met with hesitation. Carol looked me over as if deciding whether I was worthy of her company or not. A part of me wanted to snap at her. After all, why not be pleasant? We were coworkers and I rented my apartment from her aunt, Mrs. Jones.

  Instead, I bit my tongue and relaxed my shoulders to disguise my annoyance.

  “You buying?” she asked after a while.

  “Of course.” I smiled.

  “Okay. Let me stop in the restroom first.”

  Eve looked up from the reports she was studying as I watched the woman clomp away. “Don’t let that bug you. She’s aloof, but she’s dedicated to the salon. You’re accustomed to being frugal, I bet, so you two will get along. That’s her big bugaboo. That and following rules. She’s a big one for rules. When Lisa decided not to let Mr. Jasper finish the salon as I had specified, Carol was on the phone with me right away.”

  “Why didn’t you get it fixed then?”

  “The call came the same day that I moved my dad into an assisted-living facility. That week was rocky.” She looked away. “He was there for two weeks before they called and told me they couldn’t handle him. I had to find a facility that was dedicated to handling Alzheimer’s patients. Since it was short notice, that wasn’t easy.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t. That’s a shame, Eve. Why did you decide to put in such a big tank? I’m sure it was expensive.”

  Eve turned back toward me with a smile. “Actually, it’s a cost-saving device. You see, aquariums have been shown to have a calming effect on people. They lower the blood pressure, reduce stress, and reduce anxiety. In kids with ADHD, they’ve been shown to settle down significantly. There’s even research that shows that watching fish can reduce pain. So while it’s costly at the outset, we’ve been experimenting with large tanks. There are significantly fewer complaints about stylists running late in our salons with tanks. In fact, we get fewer complaints overall in the salons with tanks.”

  “Fascinating,” I said, and it was.

  Carol stepped up behind me. “Of course, for some people, aquariums have been known to be lethal.”

  An awkward silence followed.

  “You ready to go?” I said to the accountant. “Eve, do you want us to bring you anything?”

  “No,” she said. “Wynn and I are going to lunch together in about fifteen minutes.”

  With that, Carol and I left on foot to walk to Subway. “I rent from your aunt,” I said, hoping to start a conversation.

  “I know.”

  She said nothing else for a block or two. I made desultory remarks about the fall leaves and the brightly colored mums we passed. Carol’s lips were sealed. Finally, I’d had enough. I stopped in my tracks. “Look, if you have a problem with me, I prefer to get it out in the open.”

  “I had my apartment cleaned for mold a couple of weeks ago, so I stayed over at my aunt’s house. You had a man sleep over. I know because I saw him go in at night and not come out until the next morning. That’s what loose women do.”

  “Oh.” This was not what I expected. A problem with me being competition, yes, that I could handle. A concern about me taking Lisa’s place so quickly. Either of those would have been expected. But to throw my personal life at me? That was bush league. I knew Mrs. Jones paid no attention to my personal life, so I naturally assumed no one else did, either.

  A slow burn started at my collar and worked its way up my neck. “You have no right to intrude on my privacy, but for the record, the man who stayed over is a man I have been dating exclusively and just broke up with. It’s not like there’s a regular parade in and out of my bedroom.”

  Her mouth twisted up while she considered all this. I used the opportunity to glance at her left hand. No ring. This wasn’t about her religious beliefs. It was about jealousy.

  “Is that why you pushed Lisa Butterworth into the fish tank? Because she was sinful? What does that make you, huh? A murderer?”

  Carol staggered backward. As she did, she misjudged the terrain behind her and fell hard on her butt. I stared down at the woman. Growing up in the South, you learn never to talk about politics or religion. This altercation reminded me why. I understood that people had strong feelings about premarital sex, but I didn’t appreciate the lecture, particularly since I’d shown such admirable restraint the night before.

  Her face turned petulant as she sat there. “I didn’t do it! I know that ex-husband of yours thinks I did because he keeps coming round and asking me questions, but I didn’t! I can’t help it, but he’s making me feel all fidgety.”

  “He has that effect on people,” I said with a sigh. “Come on. Let me give you a hand up.” With a grunt, I pulled the other woman to her feet. Brushing the bits of grass off her pants, she thanked me and continued with, “All I did was loan Mrs. Goodman my car. That’s it, that’s all. The Goodmans only have one car down here, and her husband—that awful man!—had hers.”

  Finally, we were getting somewhere. “When did you loan it to her?”

  “On Friday afternoon, we were going over last month’s figures. We know that someone has been taking money from the till, but we don’t know who. We also know someone is playing with the invoices, and I’m certain that is—was—Lisa. Mrs. Goodman went over the books with me because she wanted to make absolutely certain that the person messing with the invoices had taken more than three hundred dollars.”

  “Why?”

  “Because any dollar figure over two hundred ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents, it’s a felony. Mrs. Go
odman was mad as heck. She wanted to put Lisa away for a long time. She even said that it would serve Lisa right if her baby was born in jail. I don’t think she really meant it, but maybe she did because she’d just heard that Lisa was pregnant—and she was claiming it was Wynn Goodman’s baby!”

  “How’d she get that news?”

  Carol’s stubby fingers waved away my question. “It was all over the Internet. I think that made Mrs. Goodman the maddest. She thought everyone was laughing at her because it took her so long to get pregnant.”

  “So when did you loan her your car?”

  “Right before closing time. Ten ’til five. She asked if she could borrow my car. Said she’d drop me off at home, and she did. Promised she’d fill up the tank for me. You know how expensive gas is. So I let her keep it until Saturday night.”

  I nodded. Our walk had taken us to the heart of downtown St. Elizabeth, where pedestrians filled the sidewalks, hurrying to grab lunch before they went back to town hall or the stores where they worked. “Let’s postpone this discussion until we grab our food and talk in private.”

  Once inside Subway, she chose a foot-long sub with everything on it, an extra-large cola, two bags of chips, and two cookies. Evidently her cost-cutting methods included soaking other people for more food than she could possibly eat. I said nothing but ordered my regular turkey on whole wheat with green peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, black olives, and mustard, plus a diet Coke, and paid for everything. Carol could barely carry all the food the clerk handed her.

  Lucky for us, a table opened up in the far back of the narrow restaurant. “Grab it!” I told Carol, and she moved surprisingly quickly toward the surface.