Betina considered the idea. “So maybe the wronged Sabrina decides to get revenge. She wants to set up those two—Manus and Victoria—making sure everyone knows they are enemies. When she sold Victoria those scissors she had to know she’d come screaming back in a rage. If she was intending to kill Victoria, the public show of putting them at each other’s throats would distract the police. They’d have a motive and not think to look back in time for another motive.”
“Do people really think we are that simple?” James asked.
“Or she was just trying to sabotage Victoria, giving her bad scissors. She might’ve thought that Victoria wouldn’t check the scissors. They were, after all, her brand,” Nellie said.
“Then why have a whole box of bad ones?”
Nellie shrugged. “Hey when you spitball, sometimes you just get spit.”
James grinned. “Why don’t I just track down this Sabrina? Instead of guessing, we can just ask her why she did that. I’ll get her room number or address from Manus Jenkins.”
“Good idea. A chat with her might prove enlightening about a lot of things that have been going on.”
“I’m sure she’ll have some interesting things to tell us.” Nellie’s smile was positively wicked. Part of it was undoubtedly a distraction from worry about what might be going on at casa Phlint. It’s interesting how focusing on one disaster can be a palliative for worrying about another.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I’d had a lot of coffee, so I excused myself to go to the restroom. When I went in, there she was—the woman who had been working in Manus’s booth. She was standing at the sink, combing her hair. If Betina hadn’t been so sure, I would never have thought this was Sabrina. The truth was that I didn’t see a lot of resemblance to the woman in the video, but another hard truth was that I don’t have Betina’s eye, either.
“Hi. Aren’t you Jane, Manus Jenkins's assistant?”
She gave me a twisted smile. “His servant, more like. The man is a lazy bum and expects other people to do his work for him.”
“I’ve heard that he has a few shortcomings.”
The woman smiled. “I saw you with Victoria, which makes me think she’s the one who told you about them.”
“I’ll admit that. She never had a lot of good things to say about people and after that episode with the scissors she was a little more eager to spread the bad about Manus.”
She seemed pleased. “He deserves it. People should think badly of him.”
“So why do you work for him?”
“Why does anyone work for anyone—the money. I need it and he hired me without a lot of fuss or paperwork. We worked out a mutually satisfactory arrangement.”
That made sense. He was paying her under the table and she was happy to let him not pay taxes or benefits.
She hummed as she went about washing her hands and I noticed scars on them. If I needed any more proof that she was Sabrina that was it.
“You hated Victoria, didn’t you?”
“Because I sold her a bogus pair of scissors?”
“No. Because you think she cheated you out of winning this competition. You think she sabotaged your hair chemicals.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “Well someone did.” She wasn’t even going to deny it. “Do I hate her? Sure. Do I think she did it? I don’t know. But the people running this even didn’t care enough to even look into it. They acknowledged that I was sabotaged and then made a deal with my model that if they paid her medical expenses, paid for getting her scalp treated, she’d keep her mouth shut.”
“And now you are hurting a lot of people, Sabrina.”
I thought for a moment she might hiss at me. Then she smiled. “I am bringing down people who climbed over my corpse to get where they are.”
“Speaking of corpses, what did Victoria do that made it worth killing her over?”
“Killing her?” She seemed surprised at the accusation. “I didn’t kill anyone.”
“You said you hated Victoria.”
“I do, or did. But I hate lots of people and the vast majority were still walking around, breathing on their own the last time I checked. Unfortunately.”
I got out my phone and texted James. I hoped he hadn’t left the coffee shop yet.
She smiled. “Calling for help?”
“Help for you,” I told her.
She let out a long breath. “I did what I came to do, except that I had plans for Victoria that involved embarrassing her publicly, not killing her.”
“So who killed her?”
The woman pulled off the wig she’d been wearing and suddenly she looked a lot more like the woman in the video. “I don’t know. I was as surprised as anyone to hear someone had finally killed Victoria. I knew a lot people wouldn’t be unhappy she was dead, but I’ve been fixated on my plan.”
“Your plan?”
“Making sure that the companies Manus represented found out he intended to compete with them and making sure he didn’t get backers. And I wanted to make sure the Expo continued earning its reputation for bad luck and sabotage. And finally, I wanted to teach that nasty Dave that he can’t use being a little person to make money.”
“Why don’t you like him? Did he do something to you?”
“After I got thrown out and banned, I lost my salon. People thought I was crazy. I went to him and asked for a job. He laughed at me. He said if I hadn’t been so high and mighty I’d still have my own place and that he couldn’t risk his own place by hiring a crazy woman.”
“So you sabotaged his invention.”
“And with luck, all those things have made some bad press that will get people who showed at the expo demanding their money back.”
“What about Sylvia? What did she do to you?”
She gave me an odd look. “Who?” Then she paused. “You mean that woman who used to work for Victoria?”
“Yes. You chopped her hair and colored it absurd colors.”
She shook her head. “Why would I do that?”
“That’s what I asked you.”
“Are you talking about the woman who was freaking out Friday night in the hotel bar? I heard she got drunk and was sobbing some crap about her husband cheating on her?”
That was news to me. “We went out to the blacksmith shop for a drink, so I guess I missed that.”
“That’s a nice place. I go there a lot.”
“It is.”
“I didn’t even know someone did that to her. I have no reason to bother that woman at all. I don’t think I’ve ever met her. And I wouldn’t ruin someone’s hairdo. Think about this… the things I did had specific purposes, even if it was just to screw the contest organizers. How would messing with that woman’s cut interfere with the contest? No one cares if a contestant looks awful.”
I had to agree. All of the other sabotage, except the mouse, was focused on damaging someone’s ability to compete, not just to upset them. Also, I had to consider the possibility that the mouse had wandered in on its own. Security didn’t check mouse badges.
“We better go,” I said.
She glanced at my phone meaningfully. “They are waiting for us, I imagine.”
“Investigator Woodley needs to hear all this.”
We walked out of the restroom and into the arms of James and some uniformed officers. Sabrina smiled at them and calmly held out her hands. They put the cuffs on her.
“That’s her?” James asked as the officers led her away.
“That’s Sabrina. Betina was right. Not that you need the proof, but she still has scars on her hands from whatever chemical that was. She confessed to the sabotage, but says she has nothing to do with Victoria’s murder.”
“And…”
I looked into his eyes. I was always startled by the soft and gentle gaze from this cop. “The thing is, I believe her.”
He shook his head. “I was afraid of that. Murders are never simple when you’re around.”
“So now this is my fault?”
He arched his eyebrows and went off to interrogate his prisoner.
# # #
“Well you had some excitement, I hear,” Nellie said as I came to the room. “James Woodley rushed off the instant you texted him about finding Sabrina.”
“It was dumb luck. I ran into her in the restroom. She had the scars on her hands and I more or less asked her straight out about what she was doing. She didn’t bat an eye. I think she was glad to tell someone. She’ll probably fill Investigator Woodley’s professional ears full of beauty show gossip that will keep him burning the midnight oil.”
Nellie found it all very funny. “So he shows you a movie of a news program and in turn you solve his case for him.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. And the flaw in that is that I don’t think Sabrina is our murderer. She might’ve had blood in her eye, but I don’t think she killed anyone.” I smiled at Nellie. “There is one other piece of the puzzle that doesn’t fit, and it was Sabrina who pointed it out to me.”
“What piece is that?”
She says she didn’t do anything to Sylvia’s head. She barely knew who she was and Sylvia wasn’t around during the competition that she was so upset about.”
“Upset… another nice word.”
“Okay, livid. Anyway, the only thing she really knew about Sylvia was that Friday night she was upset and it had something to do with her husband cheating on her. She got drunk and fell apart.”
Nellie grinned. “And I just might have an angle on that.”
I laughed. “Tell me.”
“I found out that the guy who was hanging around Sylvia’s station is her husband.”
“I guessed that. He seemed out of place.”
“And, according to the nail coterie, all is not well in that world.”
“Nail coterie?”
“The people who focus on hands. They feel left out of a lot of the stuff at this show. They feel neglected, so they hang together and sulk and share evil stories and bad jokes about hair stylists. The story about Sylvia’s husband, and her concerns about his fidelity are supposed to be true.”
“There is a story that goes with that?”
“That he’s a wealthy man. He funded her first two salons and they were living happily ever after, until they didn’t. When she came up with her franchise idea, which she is obsessed about, he said no. Apparently his foray into greener bedsheets had her worrying about her future, which is why the franchise is so important. So she entered the contest and booked meeting rooms in the hope that she could get backers, investors.”
“And that’s gossip why? It sounds more like a business report.”
“Well, if her husband was bonking his secretary, that’s all it would be for this crown. The reason it falls into the juicy gossip category is because my sources—”
“The nail coterie–”
“–say that the other woman is another, competing, stylist.”
“Any names?”
“An amazing number of names have been thrown in the hat but it’s all speculation. No one knows a thing. A popular theory is that it is one of the stylists who works for Sylvia. The idea that he is messing around with a younger, upcoming woman who won’t be so demanding proves irresistible.”
“She does seem a bit strident.”
“And the guy is sick of her attitude. At least that’s one story. So she is panicky, afraid that he might dump her at any moment, and then she’d have trouble keeping her two salons, much less expanding.”
“But if she gets backing for her franchise…”
“Then that would be her future. Lose the guy, gain a business career.”
“I feel sorry for her,” I said.
“I knew you would,” Nellie said. “You are so predictable that way.”
“Where’s Betina?”
“She had to go join Pete to prepare for the awards ceremony.”
“No word on what that weird summons that Pete got earlier was all about?”
“None We haven’t seen him. He texted Betina to meet him in the ballroom. Leander came by for coffee and said he’ll meet us in the ballroom. We should save him a seat.”
I checked my watch. “It’s getting close to time for the gala awards ceremony so I guess we’d better go find out how our boy did.”
When we got off the elevator we merged with the crowd swarming into the ballroom for the announcement of the winners of the competition. The place looked a lot different. The styling stations had been removed. Staff had packed the equipment up and stored it until after the show. Where they had been sat a stage where three judges sat behind a table. There was a dais that Gloria stood at, impatiently or nervously watching the place fill up.
The competitors and their models were arranged with five on either side of the stage. Dave and Sylvia were on one side with Pete and a woman from Shreveport on the other. Sylvia apparently had gotten someone to cut her hair evenly, but short, and it had been colored a uniform deep brown. It actually didn’t look bad at all.
Even from our seats, without the closeup on the monitor it was easy to see that Pete was nervous and the tension was making my own stomach ache. “I’m with you,” I said. “I want them to just blurt out the winner,” I told Nellie.
“No chance. They want to milk every instant of the event,” she said. She pointed at the television crews that had set up behind the audience. “You need drama and tension or no one will hang in there through the commercials.”
“I suppose so, but I don’t think it’s worth getting an ulcer over.”
“Then go back to the bar and have a drink. I’ll call you with the results.”
“I’ll tough it out.” No way was I leaving the ballroom until I knew the results.
“Then do it quietly,” she said. “I’m eavesdropping.”
Some folks people watch—Nellie likes listening into parts of other people’s conversations and then making up stories to go with what she’s heard. Creative gossip, she calls it. Many times I’ve told her she ought to write a novel. “I’d rather live one,” she says. That’s her attitude.
“Let’s grab a seat.”
As we headed up to the seats Leander came up behind us. “Perfect timing.”
“You look happy,” I said.
“I’m excited for Pete,” he said. “I think he’ll do well.” He grinned. “Of course I know beans about hair styling. It’s a case where ignorance is bliss.”
“Have you heard from him since the judges kidnapped him?” Nellie asked.
“What?”
“They sent Gloria to fetch him. They wanted him to meet with them before the awards.”
Leander shrugged. “Hair stylists work in mysterious ways.”
We sat down with Nellie and I flanking Leander. He took my hand in his and I saw he had Nellie’s in his other hand. “I need to be grounded a little,” he said.
“He will do fine,” I said.
And then, with a blast of some pop music, it started.
“Hang onto your hats,” Nellie said.
# # #
The event was definitely scripted to play to the television cameras. Gloria played the hostess, and they showed clips of each contestant cutting hair and naming them, just as they had before. Then she introduced the judges and one of them handed her three envelopes.
“We have a winner for men’s styling, one for women’s, and an overall winner.”
“Thank goodness they aren’t going through the entire voting process and naming runner ups who get to acknowledge the help they got from their third grade teachers,” Nellie said.
Gloria seemed to be in her element. “The winner in the category of men’s cuts is…” she opened the envelope with a flourish and called out a name I didn’t know. It was a salon owner from Shreveport. She shrieked happily right on cue and with a bit of catwalk music one of the professional male models walked out and strutted his stuff.
The woman who won went to the podium and got a certificate, shook hands, hugg
ed her model, and then went back to her seat.
“The winner in women’s styling…” another envelope flourish and… “Dave the Dwarf.”
“See, everyone calls him that,” Nellie said.
Our hearts sank. “He lost,” Leander said sounding as if he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Look at Pete’s face,” Nellie said. “He doesn’t look like someone who has lost anything.”
After Dave’s model did her strut on the stage, and Dave took his bow, Gloria was ready for the grand finale.
“And now we have a special treat. This morning the judges informed me that they unanimously have changed the format of the awards. Normally they pick the best cut of the two category winners as the grand prize winner. But the underlying spirit of hair styling is innovation—doing something different. And this year the judges felt they saw something truly different, but it didn’t fit within the confines of our contest structure. So they chose to do something new. One cut, a brilliant cut, seemed to them to apply to both men and women equally well. Our contestant had chosen to cut a woman’s hair and this morning they asked him to cut a man’s hair with the same style. Their instincts and his talent proved to be perfect for that, and now the judges have asked me to announce that Pete Dawson of Teasen and Pleasen Salon, in Knockemstiff, Louisiana is this year’s overall winner.”
As the place broke into applause, Leander jumped to his feet, shouting. Pete, looking embarrassed, got to his feet and walked to the podium as Betina and a male model came out. The cut was slightly different on the man, and instead of a romance hunk, this man was a slender blonde. The cut looked stunning on him too, and he and Betina danced across the stage to the delight of the audience.
Then, as things calmed, Gloria thanked everyone. Pete stood on the stage, flanked by his models, with the judges and Gloria standing on the floor in front of the stage as the press shot photos. Pete had an arm around each of the models. “I wonder if I should be jealous, or concerned,” Leander wondered. “That guy is cute.”
Color Me Dead (The Teasen and Pleasen Hair Salon Mystery Series Book 4) Page 14