He glanced into the salon area, wondering how Phyllis was doing with her efforts.
••●••
“I’m Desiree Chilton,” the woman in the next chair said.
“Phyllis Newsom,” Phyllis introduced herself, hoping the woman wouldn’t recognize her name.
“It’s nice to meet you. And I have to agree you have really beautiful skin. I hope mine looks that good when I’m your age.” Desiree gestured toward the cream spread all over her face. “That’s one reason for this. And I hope I didn’t offend you by mentioning your age...”
“Not at all,” Phyllis assured her. “I’m proud of every year I’ve spent on this earth.”
“Well, that’s a good way to be.”
It was hard to tell with the mask she was wearing, but Phyllis figured Desiree was in her thirties. She had blond hair pulled back in a long ponytail. A cape covered most of her body, but Phyllis could see the expensive shoes she wore, along with part of the designer jeans. Evidently, Desiree had plenty of money, which is just what Phyllis would have expected from one of the salon’s customers.
“Anyway,” Desiree went on, “I was going to tell you about what happened to Roxanne, the poor girl. Her husband killed her right here in the salon. Beat her to death with his bare hands.”
“Good Lord.” Phyllis didn’t have to fake the reaction. Even though she knew the alleged facts of the case quite well by now, hearing it stated so bluntly made it seem even more horrifying. “He came in and attacked her while people were here?”
“No, it was after hours, but Roxanne was still here. Her husband called the police, I guess because he knew he’d be the only real suspect, and tried to claim he’d found her that way, but of course no one believed him. I’m pretty sure he was found guilty at his trial, although I didn’t really keep up with it.”
“I guess you knew Roxanne pretty well,” Phyllis said.
“She was the best! I always asked for her when I came in. It was devastating when I lost her!” Desiree sighed. “That sounded callous, didn’t it? I didn’t really mean it quite like that...but I could talk to her about almost anything, and it’s certainly true that none of the other girls here have quite the same touch Roxanne did. Shelley Dawson is crazy.”
“I don’t know who that is,” Phyllis said.
“Shelley? Oh, she got mad and pitched a fit a week or so before Roxanne was killed. She claimed Roxanne butchered her hair. But if you ask me, it looked all right. And believe me, it takes a miracle worker to make Shelley’s hair look even all right! She should have been thankful Roxanne did as good a job as she did. Instead, like I said, she caused all kinds of commotion and trouble by complaining to Pauline. Then of course Pauline got mad at Roxanne and it was just a big, unpleasant mess.”
“That’s terrible. Roxanne must have been pretty upset about the whole deal, too.”
“You’d think so,” Desiree said. “Really, though, she sort of just shrugged it off, like she didn’t care all that much, even though Shelley wanted Pauline to fire her. It never came to that, of course, and then a week later...well, none of it mattered anymore because of what happened.”
“The murder, you mean.”
“That’s right. Murder makes everything else sort of pale into insignificance, doesn’t it?”
“It has a way of doing that, all right,” Phyllis agreed.
“Anyway, that’s the story, and that’s why nobody around here likes to talk about it.” Desiree sighed again. “I do miss Roxanne, though. I used to tell that girl everything! I mean, if you’re going to trust somebody with something as important as your hair and face, you can trust them with anything, right?”
“I suppose so,” Phyllis said.
“I’d better shut up now. That’s hard for me to do, if you haven’t guessed.” She laughed. “Talia’s going to fuss at me for taking a chance on cracking this mask...” Desiree’s voice dropped to a whisper. “And she and Courtney are coming back.”
The two stylists returned to their stations and went back to work on Phyllis and Desiree. Phyllis pretended to be paying attention to what Courtney was doing, but actually her mind was going over everything Desiree had said. The woman hadn’t really given Phyllis any new information, as far as she could tell, but at the same time, something had started to stir in the back of her brain. It wasn’t a coherent picture yet, or even close to that, but there was some sort of pattern that might be important, Phyllis sensed. She just couldn’t tell what it was.
Maybe Sam had had better luck with Aurora, she thought.
Chapter 14
Phyllis tried to talk to Talia while the young woman was working on her face, but Talia was close-mouthed and discouraged conversation, saying, “You need to be still while I’m spreading this cream on, Mrs. Newsom. We need a nice, even layer.”
“Of course,” Phyllis said, careful to barely move her lips as she spoke.
Pauline came in while the mask was hardening on Phyllis’s face. The salon owner emerged from a door in the rear of the room. Phyllis supposed she had either been back there in an office the whole time, or else she had just returned from somewhere and had come in through a rear door.
Pauline came over to her and said, “Mrs. Newsom! It’s good to see you again.” She smiled and patted Phyllis’s cape-covered shoulder. “No, no, don’t say anything. Wouldn’t want y’all to risk ruinin’ all of Talia’s good work. Just give me a thumbs-up if you’re bein’ treated right.”
Phyllis responded with the affirmative gesture.
“Good! If you have any problems, you just let me know, hear? We want all our clients at Paul’s Beauty Salon to leave happy.”
Unlike Shelly Dawson, Phyllis thought. The woman had been so upset that she’d wanted Roxanne fired, but that hadn’t happened. It was ’way too farfetched to think that Shelley might have nursed her anger for a week and then come back to take it out on Roxanne, wasn’t it?
Unfortunately, Phyllis knew that crazier things had happened. The very first case she’d solved had involved old grudges...
And just how angry had Pauline been at Roxanne over that flare-up, Phyllis wondered? She hadn’t fired Roxanne, but according to Desiree Chilton, Roxanne might not have acted very grateful for that reprieve. Roxanne’s attitude, on top of the other trouble, might have rubbed Pauline the wrong way...
Now she was just going around in circles, Phyllis told herself as she watched Pauline move along and talk to the other clients in the salon, laughing and complimenting and generally currying favor with them. She had seen bosses like that before, all sweetness and light when customers were around but the Dragon Lady when it was just the workers.
When Talia was finished, Phyllis suggested that she could use a manicure, too. She wanted to spend more time here, talk to more of the employees, although with Pauline around it was kind of doubtful how forthcoming they would be.
She would have even been willing to have a pedicure, although she didn’t like people messing with her feet. She was too ticklish for that to be comfortable.
“You’ll have to ask Pauline about that,” Talia said. “I think all of our nail people may be booked solid for the day, though.”
“It can’t hurt to ask,” Phyllis said. “And thank you for everything you did, Talia.” She regarded herself in the mirror. “Not bad for an old lady.”
Talia’s natural expression seemed to be a solemn one, but she smiled slightly at that.
“You look really good, Mrs. Newsom,” she said. “I hope you’ll come back.”
“I’m sure I will,” Phyllis said...although what she was really sure of was that when she saw the bill for everything, she was going to have a hard time keeping her jaw from dropping.
But it was only money, she told herself. That didn’t count for as much when it was stacked up against Danny Jackson’s life.
When Phyllis asked Pauline about a manicure and pedicure, the redhead smiled regretfully.
“I’m afraid we can’t accommodate you for t
hat today, Phyllis. But I’m sure Aurora would be glad to check the schedule and make an appointment for you as soon as possible.”
“All right,” Phyllis said. Like she had thought about the original appointment, she could always cancel it later on. “And thank you for getting me in so quickly for this appointment.”
“We’re always happy to have new customers. Y’all come back any time.”
“I settle up with Aurora in front?”
“Yep.”
Pauline was obviously ready to move on. Phyllis had stretched this out as long as she could. There wasn’t anything else to be gained here, at least right now.
She opened one of the glass doors and stepped into the reception area. Sam must have seen her coming, because he was already on his feet, wearing a big grin on his face.
“Remember in those old cartoons how the wolf’s eyes would bug out a foot in front of his face whenever he saw a pretty girl?” Sam said. “Well, that’s sorta the way I feel right now.”
“You look great, Mrs. Newsom,” Aurora said with what sounded like genuine friendliness. Sam must have thawed out her attitude, Phyllis thought. “Those highlights in your hair really work.”
“You’re workin’ it, all right,” Sam said.
“Hush,” Phyllis told him, but she smiled as she said it. She had left her purse with Sam. She got it now and took out her credit card.
Aurora announced the amount. Phyllis was braced for it and didn’t gulp. She handed over the card. Aurora ran it, printed out a slip for Phyllis to sign, and stapled the duplicate to the bill she also printed out. It was all done very efficiently.
“I was talking to Pauline about a manicure and pedicure,” Phyllis said as she handed back the pen and charge slip.
“Sure.” Aurora consulted the schedule on her monitor. “How about next Thursday at one?”
“All right,” Phyllis said, nodding.
Aurora wrote on an appointment card and handed it to her. “There you go,” the young woman said. “And you really do look nice.”
“Thank you,” Phyllis said. She smiled, then went out the front door while Sam held it open for her.
As they walked toward the pickup, Phyllis went on, “Now that we’re outside, you can tell me how it really looks. The hair is ridiculous on a woman my age, isn’t it?”
“Not hardly,” Sam said. “Every word I said in there was the truth. You look like a million bucks.”
“A million dollars isn’t worth what it once was.”
“It’s still a whole heap of money to me. And you’re worth more than that, as far as I’m concerned.”
Sam opened the pickup door for her, and then, when he had gone around and climbed behind the wheel, Phyllis said, “Looks aside, how did it go with Aurora?”
“Seems like a nice girl. A little on the dizzy side, maybe, but not too much. You were right about her not likin’ Roxanne, though. I wouldn’t say they were out-and-out enemies, but Aurora didn’t have much use for her, that’s for sure. Said she was stuck-up and that she was Pauline’s favorite. That rubbed Aurora the wrong way, seein’ as how Pauline’s her aunt.”
“She is?” Phyllis said. “I didn’t know that. Neither of them mentioned it the other day.” She paused and thought for a moment, then asked, “What about Danny? Did Aurora say anything about him?”
Sam started the pickup and backed out of the parking space. As he pulled forward, he said, “Accordin’ to Aurora, Danny was cute.”
“So she did like him.”
“That doesn’t mean she ever made a play for him and made Roxanne jealous.”
“But she might have.”
Sam frowned and said, “I don’t think so. Wouldn’t surprise me if she flirted some with him. And if he’d flirted back hard enough...” Sam took a hand off the wheel and wiggled it. “Maybe. You got to remember, I don’t know Danny at all. I don’t know how he would’ve reacted in a case like that. Could be he’s the one who made a pass at Aurora, if there was a pass.”
“I don’t suppose I really know him well enough to say for sure, either,” Phyllis mused. “I haven’t spend much time around him since he was in high school. Hardly any, in fact.”
“So we can’t rule out the idea that somethin’ was goin’ on between Danny and Aurora.”
“But we don’t have any evidence that it was, either.” Phyllis thought for a moment. “You said Roxanne was Pauline’s favorite?”
“Aurora seemed to think so, anyway.”
“Something happened a week or so before Roxanne was killed that makes me think the relationship may have changed,” Phyllis said. She told Sam about the complaint against Roxanne lodged by Shelley Dawson. “From what the stylist I was talking to told me, it turned into a huge uproar. The woman even threatened to sue the salon. That must have really upset Pauline. But Roxanne didn’t seem to care that much.”
“Now that goes right along with somethin’ else Aurora told me,” Sam said as he drove around a high, curving ramp that led onto Interstate 30. “She thought Roxanne had sorta lost interest in the salon, too. She’d started out workin’ hard, like she was ambitious and even had her eye on managin’ the place for Pauline someday, but then she got to where she was just markin’ time.”
“Courtney felt the same way about her. But what would make Roxanne act like that? And could it have anything to do with why she was killed?”
“Figure out the first question and you might have the answer to the second,” Sam said.
••●••
Phyllis had been in the salon for quite a while, so once again they stopped for lunch on the way back to Weatherford. Even though they weren’t really hungry anymore, the aroma in the air when they got home and stepped into the kitchen was enough to make their mouths start to water.
“Lord have mercy,” Sam breathed. “That smells good.”
“Oh, my, it does,” Phyllis agreed.
Carolyn came into the kitchen and said, “You’re back.” Then she stopped short and looked at Phyllis without saying anything.
When the suspense got to be too much, Phyllis said, “Well? What do you think?”
“It’s very nice,” Carolyn said, then added, “It might be a little bit young for you.”
“Nonsense,” Eve said as she walked into the kitchen, too. “It looks spectacular, dear. Why, it’s taken years off your look.”
“Better than years off your life,” Sam said. “What’s that I’m smellin’?”
Phyllis was grateful to him for changing the subject, although she knew he was genuinely curious about the source of that delicious aroma. She was, too.
“It’s a slab pie. A chocolate cherry slab pie to be precise.,” Carolyn explained. “This is the recipe I’m going to send in to the contest, if it turns out the way I hope.”
“I don’t have a clue what a slab pie is, but judgin’ by the smell, it’s gonna turn out mighty good,” Sam declared.
Phyllis was relieved to know what Carolyn’s contest recipe was at last. She didn’t want to step on her old friend’s toes with the idea she’d had. She said, “I’m sure it’ll be wonderful. I was thinking about doing my column for the issue when the contest results come out about fruit pies. I’ve had an idea for a berry pie in the back of my mind for a while now.”
“What sort of berries?” Sam asked.
“I was thinking maybe blackberries and blueberries.”
Carolyn frowned and said, “That sounds a little violent, don’t you think?”
“How can a pie be violent?” Eve asked.
“I mean, black and blue berries? Especially when you’re investigating a murder where someone was beaten to death?”
“That never occurred to me,” Phyllis said.
“I think it’s quite a stretch, myself,” Eve said. “Anyway, that issue of the magazine won’t come out for, what, three or four months? By then the murder will be long since solved and the real culprit will have been brought to justice.”
“We hope,” Phyllis said
.
“I don’t think anyone doubts your abilities, dear.”
Maybe not, Phyllis thought, but having people depending on her when it was a matter of life and death was a considerable responsibility. A lot more important than pie recipes, that was for sure. Carolyn’s efforts had sparked her creativity, though, and after competing with Carolyn for so many years when it came to cooking, sometimes it was difficult for Phyllis to remember that those days were behind her now.
She turned to Carolyn and said, “I think the pie smells delicious, and I definitely want a sample when it’s done and has a chance to cool off.”
“Me, too,” Sam said. “Not too cool, though. It’s still got to be warm enough to melt the ice cream a little.”
“How can you judge a pie properly if you cover it with ice cream?” Carolyn asked.
“That’s the good thing about it. I’m not judgin’ it. I’m just eatin’ it.”
Chapter 15
Something else had occurred to Phyllis during the drive back from Fort Worth, an angle she hadn’t explored yet on this case. More and more, people put their whole lives on display on social media, and once those posts were online, for the most part they stayed there forever. She wasn’t that familiar with some of the platforms, but she knew her way around Facebook and knew that it had become popular while Mike was in college. People in his generation still used it extensively.
That included Danny, of course, so after sitting down at the computer, she went to Facebook and searched for him.
Finding him took several minutes. There were a lot of Danny Jacksons. But his page hadn’t been deleted, and when she found it, Phyllis began scanning down through the posts.
The page wasn’t private, and the most recent post was a few days before Roxanne’s murder. Not surprisingly, the page hadn’t been updated since then. The posts were innocuous, though. Many of them were reposts of humorous memes. Danny had an interest in hot rods, since there were some videos of racing. The more personal posts were usually about places he and Roxanne had gone or things they had done together, often including smiling photographs of her. If there was any indication of trouble between the two of them, it wasn’t apparent to Phyllis.
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