by Tonya Kappes
“Violet Rhinehammer fell for your lie and printed a big article in today’s Normal Gazette and online. In fact, all the news stations in Kentucky picked it up.” Dottie took one hand off her computer and pushed the copy of the Gazette towards me. “We have had a couple more cancellations, and I think that she had something to do with it. You look nice, by the way.”
“I’m glad you noticed. I got into the storage unit and found it packed away in all the stuff Stanley sent here. I wanted to make a good impression when I go to the school this morning to plan my class.” I was wearing a pink pant suit with a black and white polka-dot shirt underneath. I fondly remember buying it at Barney’s back in the day when I didn’t have to worry about guests cancelling their vacations or about money at all, as a matter of fact.
Paul’s – my now-dead, convicted criminal, ex-husband’s - lawyer had sent all my belongings to the campground before I even knew I was coming here. There were storage units on site, used mostly by the campers who rented yearly spots and only came every once in a while.
I sat down in the chair in front of Dottie’s desk. Fifi ran over and stood up on her hind legs with her front paws on my legs. I picked her up and scooted over to make room for her in the chair before I settled in to read Violet’s article.
“It’s believed the killer took advantage of the crowd at the campground’s party to blend in and murder the beloved coach,” I read out loud. “She sure can spin a theory.”
“Did you see where it goes on to say the coach had many enemies?” Dottie’s right brow rose and she glanced up and over the top of the computer monitor. I nodded, finishing up the article. “I looked online and the Gazette is running it as their feature. It’s been shared on social media over three-hundred times.”
“Did you get on our Facebook?” I asked, wondering if Abby had posted the status we’d talked about.
“Ummmhmmmm,” Dottie sounded funny. “We have over one-thousand comments on Abby’s post.”
“One-thousand leads?” I jumped up, causing Fifi to jump down and yip at me with excitement. I jogged around the desk and pointed to her computer. “I didn’t think we had that many people at the party! Pull it up.”
“We didn’t.” She clicked away on the keyboard. When our Facebook page came up, she pushed her chair back and let me look at the screen.
“An all-expenses paid vacation for one week at Happy Trail for the best tip that leads to the killer?!” My jaw dropped, “When I said give them something, I didn’t mean nothin’ like that. I was thinking a gift card for a free coffee or something!”
Dottie laughed.
“I can’t believe these.” I used her computer mouse to scroll down and look at the comments. “A rogue bear did it. You’re joking, right?” Yes, there had been over two-thousand shares, but most of the comments weren’t serious.
I clicked on the shares and saw how many news media outlets had shared it.
“It all can’t be bad with this many news outlets sharing it. At least we are getting the word out.” I shrugged. “I’ve got to go. Meeting Violet at Cute-icles before I head to the school.” I wiggled my nubby fingernails in the air. “Are you sure you’re okay until I get back?”
“Yep. Fifi and I will be just fine.” The sound of the treat jar lid coming off made Fifi scurry over to Dottie. “Here you go, baby girl.”
Fifi stood up on her hind legs and did a little dance. Dottie flipped her a treat. Fifi caught it in her mouth and ran over to her bed with it.
The sun was already high in the sky for a spring day. That meant it would be warmer than normal, which would bring out the hikers. This would be great for all of Normal’s shops and hopefully people would have an itch to camp too. If RVers and anybody else who liked the outdoors was on social media, I hoped they’d see Violet’s article and Abby’s post and deciding it was safe to stay at Happy Trails. Yep, this was a big logical leap, but it made me happy.
“Good morning,” I answered my phone on my way out of the campground when I saw it was Hank.
“Good morning? I’m fielding all sorts of calls from whackos that have never even been to Normal or even the Daniel Boone National Park, telling me they know who killed Scott Goodman because they want a free vacation at Happy Trails Campground. Whose bright idea was it to say that?” Hank was definitely not happy with our social media post.
He rambled on and on about how this makes the officers work overtime because they have to follow up on all leads, including the rogue bear one.
“Are you going to let me speak?” I asked, trying to interrupt him.
“What?” His tone was sharp and already assessing. “You’ve got some sort of deal with Violet Rhinehammer of all people?”
I hesitated.
“Good grief. Tell me you don’t.”
I hesitated again.
“Mae, what have you done?” He asked. “You know what. I don’t want to know. Just remember to be at my parents’ house tonight at five. They eat early.”
I hesitated.
“You forgot.” He laughed. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
“I didn’t forget, it just slipped my mind. I’ve. . .” I didn’t want to make excuses. “I’ll be there. I hope you have a good day.”
“Are you going to the school to see when you start teaching your class?” He was trying hard to change the subject and I knew it.
“I am. I’m excited.” True, I was more excited to snoop and find out what was going on at the school that might help me find Scott’s murderer, but I was excited about teaching too. “I have on my pink power suit.”
“Oh. My mom will love that.” He was trying to butter me up now. “Mae, I’m sorry. I know that you aren’t doing anything any other business would do under the circumstances. I just ask that you think about me before you do things like that.”
“Okay,” I said.
I wasn’t giving in. He didn’t realize that every thought and every decision I made had him and his job in mind. We had only told each other ”I love you” a couple of times, but I was falling hard for him and only had his best interest in mind. But I also had to look out for my well-being and if he didn’t realize that, then we had a problem. One I would discuss with him later because I’d pulled up to Cute-icles and Violet was already in there, judging by her car parked in front.
The beauty parlor, like the rest of the shops in downtown Normal, was an old house. In front of the shop was an old-fashioned wooden sign with the shop’s name and a spotlight positioned below it. The pale yellow house had cute gingerbread lattice work along the top. which made it very cozy and welcoming.
“Hello?” I called when I stepped into the shop. “Hello?”
I looked around and saw a family room on the right and a dining room on the left. I jerked back around and looked out the door to make sure I wasn’t in someone’s home because it sure looked as if I was.
“Back here for Cute-icles!” Someone yelled. “In the back!”
I walked down the small hallway and the closer I got, the familiar smell of hair products and the sound of chatter drifted towards me.
“Hi,” I greeted the four women in the eat-in kitchen.
I recognized them as Helen Pyle, the owner of Cute-icles; Violet Rhinehammer; Coke Ogden; and Lib Tuttle. I knew Helen and Violet, but had only seen the other two around town.
“Girls! Girls! Am I alive? Am I dreaming?” Helen Pyle drew her hand up her chest, resting it against the colorful gem-beaded shirt I was sure she’d bedazzled. She stood behind a client in a salon chair. “Is this Mae West standing in front of me?” She put her arm out, gripping a pair of scissors. “Coke Ogden, pinch me now.”
Coke took advantage of the opportunity, reaching out from under her black apron to give Helen a good pinch.
“Ouch!” Helen danced around, flailing her arms all around.
“Careful with those scissors.” Lib Tuttle was in the next chair over, her hair tucked up under a plastic cap. She held up a Southern Living Magazine as a shiel
d. “You’re gonna poke someone’s eyes out.”
“I didn’t mean for you to literally pinch me,” Helen said to Coke and stuck the scissors up in the orange, bouffant hairdo she still sported even though it was way past its time. “Mae, what are you doing here? I’ve been dyeing – get it, like dyeing hair - to get my hands on that head of hair of yours since you drove that rundown RV into Normal.”
“Don’t be going and getting your panties in a wad.” Violet sat at the kitchen table with her hands emerged in a watery mixture in two soup bowls. “She’s here to see me. She needs a manicure more than getting her hair done. Is Sally Ann Dean coming in this morning?”
“Let me see.” Helen walked over and grabbed my hands. “Mmmhmm, yep.” She eyeballed them with a disgusted look on her face. “Sally Ann is the only one who can save these, honey.”
“I clean houses and run a campground. I don’t have time to worry about keeping my nails painted.” I jerked my hands back and tried to let the insult run off me, but she didn’t stop.
“It’s more than a paintin’ you’re gonna need. You need a soaking and a treatment.” She pulled up the sleeve of her shirt and looked at the big jeweled watch on her wrist. “You go sit down at the kitchen table next to Violet and dip your hands in those bowls. By the time Sally Ann gets in, your dried up cuticles will be soft enough to have something done to them.”
“Did I hear you say that you clean houses?” Coke Ogden put her leg out from the chair and nearly tripped me on my way over to the kitchen table.
“I work for my friend, Betts Hager, when she’s in a pinch. Do you know her?” Everyone knew Betts.
“Know her, huh.” Coke snarled. “I’m a member of the Normal Baptist Church and we just can’t get over the scandal.”
“Betts had nothing to do with that,” I reminded her. I remembered what it was like to be an innocent bystander of the Ponzi scheme my dead ex-husband had created. “She’s got an excellent cleaning service. Have you tried her?”
Betts really needed more business now that she was on her own. A hair salon filled with older women who didn’t look like they cleaned much seemed like a good place to find Betts new clients.
“I’m interested. I own the motel on the North side of town, right as you come in off Fawn Road,” Coke went on to give directions to it.
“Motel? You call that four room building on the side of the road a motel?” Helen laughed and continued to cut Lib Tuttle’s hair.
“It used to be a train station for a railroad that ran right through Normal years ago.” Lib looked back at Helen as though she were confirming Coke’s claim. “It’s really neat.”
“I had no idea there was a place out there,” I said and walked past the two salon chairs in order to get to the other side of the kitchen.
“No one does, but Coke saw Violet’s article and thinks she can get it up and running.” Violet waved the scissors in the air. The TV hanging on the wall was on the Price Is Right and turned up so loud.
“I can if she can.” Coke snapped her fingers towards me. “Get to cutting.”
“An old train station, huh?” It sounded interesting. I sat down across from Violet and looked at her fingers in the bowls. I stuck mine in there with hers. She smiled across the table at me.
“You’re just in time.” Violet wiggled her perfectly waxed brows. “We were just talking about Adrienne Goodman. She gets her hair done by Helen.”
“Everyone in Normal gets their hair done by me now that you’re here.” Helen boasted on how Violet brought in new customers with her ever growing fame.
“Helen noticed a lot of bruises on Adrienne, in line with the rumors.” Violet had mentioned last night that she’d heard Adrienne had been abused by Scott, but nobody said anything. “That would give her a great motive to kill her husband.”
“Are you doing one of those expo-says on it?” Lib put down the Southern Living Magazine. “I heard that he was having an affair over in Copper Ridge.”
“Copper Ridge?” I asked.
“It’s about fifty miles outside of the Daniel Boone National Park going towards Louisville.” Lib nodded. “I hear he’s been seen over there a few times.”
“You heard it was an affair?” I wanted to make sure I’d heard her right over the Price Is Right announcer.
“Why else would he be going over there?” she retorted quickly.
“Yep. I bet he was, and Adrienne had the good sense to kill him. Good for her.” Coke nodded, Helen grabbed her head.
“Stay still or I’m gonna give you a man’s haircut and it ain’t barber day.” Helen huffed and moved Coke’s head into position.
Coke, Lib, and Helen continued to gossip about the murder, and I took the opportunity to talk to Violet.
“Why did you want me to meet you here? We can’t talk here. Is this Helen’s house? ” I asked, looking around.
There were kitchen appliances. The coffee pot was brewing, and the dishwasher was on a cycle.
“Yeah. She and her husband, Walter.” She looked over her shoulder to see if she could talk before she leaned over the table. “He’s the night security guard over at the school. He said that there has been a handful of times he’s seen parents coming and going after archery and rifle tournaments. Long after. If you know what I mean.”
“I don’t.” I shook my head.
“Why would parents be going to see Scott after hours? Why haven’t they gone home for the night?” Her head twisted sideways like Fifi’s did when she was trying to figure out what I was saying to her.
“I don’t know. All sorts of things. Maybe turning in equipment, getting a schedule, checking rankings,” I rattled off a few things.
“Those aren’t things to argue about.” She leaned back as though she’d gotten some big break in the case.
“Did Walter tell you who the parents were?” I asked.
“Oh, Walter didn’t tell me.” She shook her head. “Helen did.”
I glanced over at the women.
“They have Adrienne already pegged as the killer,” I reminded her.
“They’ll have another suspect tomorrow. That’s why we are coming to get our hair done tomorrow morning.” Violet smiled. “There’s a lot of truth in gossip.”
Over the next hour, Sally Ann came in and not only made my cuticles raw, but painted my nails with sparkly purple polish after she spent thirty minutes trying to get me to get fake nails. I didn’t say anything about the polish, figuring I’d just take it off later.
Violet and I didn’t really have a chance to make a plan.. She did ask me what I thought about the article in the Gazette about the campground and reminded me that she was holding up to our end of the bargain, which meant anything I found out at school today was to be shared with her.
Although she never said I had to share everything…
The school was just a couple of blocks from downtown. The parking lot was full, so I pulled into a visitor’s parking space since I was still just visiting.
“It’s Mae West. I’m here about the economics class,” I said into the microphone before the front desk buzzed the door open. “That’s good security,” I muttered when they let me in even though they had no clue why I was really there. They just thought I was the substitute.
I glanced up at the security camera above the door and wondered if Hank had had talked to the school yet. If Walter Pyle’s claim had any merit, wouldn’t it be on the security footage?
“You’re late.” The secretary was standing by the office door waiting for me. “The first bell rings at seven-forty and the last bell rings at two-forty. You get the one hour for lunch. You have one planning hour” She slapped a lesson plan book in my hands.
“I’m starting today?” I asked, a tad bit confused.
“That’s what I said this morning when I called you.” She inspected me a little closer. “You’re not the sub, are you?”
“No.” I slowly shook my head. “I’m Mae West. I was given the key to the city by Principal
Bass and Mayor Mackenzie.”
“I thought you were starting after. . .” She glanced at the wall calendar. “Shoot. I’ve got my dates crossed. Come on in.” She took the lesson plan book from me and waved me in. “It’s a bit of a mess around here today. I’m sure you can imagine.” She stooped and gave me another look-see. “Wait. You’re the Mae West, owner of that campground where Coach Goodman was killed.”
“I’d like to be thought of as the Mae West that received the key to the city for helping Normal’s economy grow,” I offered her as a suggestion, but she decided to run with her own.
“Tell me, did you see the killer?” She asked. “I know you’re not supposed to tell since you are dating the lead investigator. Who, by the way, is a fox.”
“Yeah. I don’t know any details other than he was killed by that arrow from the school.” I shrugged.
“Arrow from the school?” A man came out of a back room of the office. “Dr. Tillman.”
“School physician?” I asked.
“No, no.” he laughed. It was cute how he blushed. His red cheeks matched his strawberry blond hair. He had on a pair of light green khakis, a light blue button down, and a brown jacket. Very stylish and young. “I have my doctorate in education.”
“Dr. Tillman is going to be leaving us soon.” The secretary frowned. “We are going to miss his spunk.”
“Thank you, Gracie. You can call me Mathew. She does too,” He said with a twinkle to his smile and pointed to Gracie. “Did I hear you say that there was an arrow involved?”
Gracie gasped.
“They didn’t mention anything like that on the news.” I realized that this was probably something Hank wouldn’t want the public to know.
“Did I say arrow?” A nervous laugh came out of me. “When I found him . . .”
“You found him?” Gracie gasped even louder this time, throwing her hand over her mouth.
“Is Principal Bass here?” I looked around, trying to avoid anything I wasn’t supposed to say. “I’ve got some paperwork to fill out.”
“Principal Bass is in a meeting with a parent. Can I help you?” A woman in an A-line skirt with a cherry print and a red blouse walked around the corner.