The Body in the Boat

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The Body in the Boat Page 12

by Ami Diane


  They walked down the sidewalk half a block before crossing the street, stopping in front of Jenny’s Salon.

  Ella stared up at the hand-painted sign. Her fingers traced a coffee stain on her shirt then brushed the frazzled mess of hair on top of her head. “Uh, what exactly did you have in mind?”

  CHAPTER 13

  “WIPE that frown off your face, missy. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” Wink nudged Ella towards the salon door.

  “Nothing to worry about? I’m assuming this is the place responsible for Flo’s tower of hair and that mop on yours—okay, your hair is cool. But I’m not sure I want to go to any kind of parlor, beauty or otherwise, that Flo goes to.”

  “I heard that,” Flo growled, shuffling up the walk behind them. Her chest heaved and clanked like an old carburetor. She turned to Wink and jabbed a thumb towards Ella. “Good thinking bringing this one along. Could do something about that tumbleweed up top.”

  “You’re one to talk.”

  “Alright, you two.” Wink clapped her hands like she was herding toddlers. “Ella, you did say you wanted to fill Flo in on what you found out about Stan.”

  “What’d she find out ‘bout Stan?”

  “Yeah,” Ella said, “but we can’t talk in there.”

  “What about Stan?” Flo said, her voice getting louder.

  “Then, we’ll just have to afterward.”

  “You two see me, right? I didn’t become a ghost, right?” She punched Ella in the arm or at least tried to, but it ended up feel like a nudge.

  “Hey—”

  “Just checking.”

  Wink opened the door and hissed at them to get inside.

  Ella had a sinking feeling in her gut. Over the years, beauticians claimed they knew what they were doing with Ella’s curly hair, but she’d left many a salon with hair that poofed out like she’d stuck her hand in an electrical socket. If this appointment went the way she suspected it might, she’d rather find the nearest outlet and test her theory.

  Inside, it felt like a 1950s beauty parlor. Probably because it was a 1950s beauty parlor, the only difference being that it smelled markedly worse. She blamed the popularity of permanents. The smell alone was causing her nostril hairs to curl up.

  “Wink!” Jenny bounded over, her peach silk dress brushing her calves. Every hair stayed perfectly in place as she embraced the older woman in a deep hug. “You’re not due for a touch-up. Don’t tell me you’ve finally decided to go pink?”

  “Still thinking about it. But I don’t want a bubble-gum color. I want bright, vibrant…” her face scrunched as she searched for the right adjective.

  “Hot pink?” Ella suggested.

  Jenny glanced over at her, the corners of her mouth turning down slightly. The frown deepened when she spotted Flo.

  “That sounds interesting,” Wink said, oblivious to the looks. “Hot pink, you say?”

  “I’m thinking as bright as a neon sign.”

  Flo swore under her breath. “Just what she needs.”

  Wink’s eyes glowed, and she whirled around to Jenny. “That’s what I want.”

  One of Jenny’s eyebrows arched towards her hairline. “I’ll have to see what I can do.” She looked at Ella with an expression that said, thanks a lot.

  Ella shot her finger guns.

  “And whatever this one wants,” Wink jerked her head at Ella, “my treat.”

  Before Ella could protest, Jenny spoke. “And you, Flo? I’m guessing the usual?”

  “You bet your brown roots I want the usual.”

  Jenny’s cheeks turned pink, and the regret overtaking Ella had been feeling up until that point faded.

  “Or,” Ella said pointedly, “you can try something new.” Her eyes flitted to the top of the beehive. “Something closer to the ground.”

  “Why mess with perfection?”

  “Really? Perfection? That’s what you’re going with?”

  While argued, they were escorted to their styling chairs. Ella’s breath hitched when Jenny grabbed a pair of scissors. She instantly regretted her cold behavior towards the woman, wondering if it was too late to make amends.

  Jenny seemed to sense her apprehension. She locked eyes with Ella in the mirror, a coy expression on her heavily made-up face. The shears made their slicing sound as she opened and closed them a few times a la Edward Scissorhands.

  Then, she marched past Ella to another woman waiting in a chair. Ella relaxed in her seat, letting out an audible sigh.

  “You okay, dear?” Wink looked over as one of the other beauticians put a cape around her.

  Another settled in behind Ella. Her hair was cut in a short pixie, and she wore Doc Martens, reminiscent of Ella’s grade school days. Her hands tugged at the knot of hair on Ella’s head.

  “Does this come out?” she asked in between smacks of gum.

  Reluctantly, Ella obliged and released the Kraken of hair. It wasn’t that she was particularly fond of her deep brown locks, but she’d finally figured out how to manage them and look semi-presentable.

  “Just a trim is all I need.”

  Another smack of gum. “I think you’d look great with shorter hair. It’d really frame your face well.”

  Ella had tried the look before but had ended up looking like a poodle. She told the pixie-haired girl as much. “Naw. They just didn’t layer it right.”

  The knot returned to Ella’s stomach. “Okay, but have you worked with curly hair before?”

  “All the time. Grew up cutting my sister’s hair after watching them butcher it one too many times. She always cried afterward, and I had to fix their mess. Trust me.”

  She paused long enough from tugging her fingers in Ella’s hair to shoot her a reassuring smile in the mirror. Then, she twirled her around, and Ella was forced to stare at the row of women sitting under hairdryers.

  On Ella’s other side, Flo was explaining in great detail what she wanted. The young gal who couldn’t have been breath over twenty didn’t seem too keen on what she was asking.

  After a quick wash, Ella’s hair was plastered to her head and all she heard was the sound of scissors slicing near her face. A few minutes in, Jenny walked her client to the door and began working on Wink’s hair.

  “So,” Wink started, her tone taking on the excitement that usually precedes juicy information, “you know how I feel about gossip, but did you all hear Stan was having an affair?”

  Ella’s head jerked, nearly costing her an ear.

  “Whoops,” Gum Smacker said. “Might want to hold still unless you want a haircut like mine.”

  Ella apologized and watched Wink in the mirror. The older woman gave her a subtle gesture with her hand.

  “Old news, Wink,” Jenny said. “I heard it was three different women.”

  “No,” Gum Smacker said, “Just the one.” She shoved Ella’s head forward to cut the back.

  “Who was the lucky lady?” Wink asked.

  Ella hadn’t been to many salons in her life, but listening to the ease in which the conversation flowed, she got the impression she’d found the font of the rumor mill. No wonder the sheriff had asked for help getting information. He could press his ear to the ground all he wanted, but he simply couldn’t access the veins of the town Ella could.

  “I heard it was Betty,” Gum Smacker said.

  Jenny scoffed. “Don’t go spreading gossip. Besides, it was Dot. Didn’t you see them the last few weeks? Always together. They looked like they were attached at the hip.”

  Ella perked up, metaphorically. She was scared to move, otherwise. “Is Dot the one with long, straight blonde hair?”

  Gum Smacker made a snorting noise behind Ella. “Long and straight, yes. But that blonde is from a bottle.”

  “You should’ve seen the split ends on her when she first came in,” Jenny added.

  Discussion of natural hair color aside, Ella churned over the news that Stan was having an affair with Dot—the unfortunate name of the who’d been collecting
signatures with Stan. Looking back, it was obvious, but Ella hadn’t wanted to assume anything.

  If Stan was having an affair with her, maybe his wife had found out. It wasn’t like they were hiding the fact, hanging around town together. But Lilly hadn’t struck Ella as the jealous type. She’d seemed rather indifferent about her husband and almost glad to be rid of him.

  “Does Dot have a husband?” Ella asked, resisting the urge to sweep aside the hair in her face.

  Gum Smacker set her scissors of death down and slathered her hands with an oily product before working them through Ella’s hair.

  “She’s famously single,” Wink said. “Been prowling for a husband since she got here.”

  Ella’s heart sank a little. A jealous husband would’ve made a perfect suspect.

  “It’s because she’s crazy,” Flo, who’d been suspiciously quiet since sitting down, said. “You’re doing it wrong,” she said to the girl hovering over her head.

  After scaring the girl with a litany of threats if she messed up, Flo was escorted over to one of the hairdryers that looked like it’d come directly from a UFO.

  “I heard she went after the milkman with a knife,” Gum Smacker said.

  Wincing as the hairdresser combed through a stubborn knot, Ella asked, “What about family?”

  “I think it was just her,” Jenny said. “But I don’t remember.”

  “I was sweeping the sidewalk in front of the diner when she first arrived in Keystone, walking along the road,” Wink said. “It was just her.”

  “Speaking of sidewalk,” Jenny said, her voice filling with the lilt of a new topic, “I saw you out there yesterday chatting with Mr. Benson.”

  “Stewart? Of course, I was chatting with him. I had just bought groceries.”

  “It looked like more than just chatting.”

  “I don’t know what you’re insinuating—”

  “Oh, come now, Wink. Stewart’s a fine man. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I think you two would make a handsome couple.”

  Ella grinned. “Wink, why didn’t you tell me? Wink and Stewart sitting in a tree…” Her voice raised to a half-yell. “Flo! Did you know Wink and Stewart were an item?”

  The crazy lady was sitting across and to her left alongside a few other women.

  “Eh!” Flo grappled with the dome over her head. “I can’t hear you!”

  Ella waved her away. “Never mind!”

  “Do I want pie?”

  Ella rolled her eyes and chanced moving her head to peek at her boss. Wink’s cheeks had turned nearly as dark as her new hair color, confirming Jenny’s accusation.

  The thought of the spunky woman with the more subdued, friendly store owner made Ella’s insides all warm, despite her reservations about relationships lasting.

  Also, it didn’t hurt to have ammo the next time Wink pushed her about Will.

  As the clock dragged on, she fell silent, listening to the chatter around her, a sense of belonging welling in her heart. Since her arrival, she’d felt like an outsider, but sitting in the salon, listening to the happenings of the town, she felt like she was touching the heart of Keystone. They were bringing her into the fold. This town was becoming her home.

  “You ready to see your new look?” Gum Smacker asked.

  “Why not?” It couldn’t be worse than her fourth grade haircut, which was more mullet-like than Ella would ever admit aloud.

  With a hard shove on Ella’s chair, Melody whirled her around, and Ella gasped at her new reflection. Her hair had been cut just above her shoulders. The way Melody had shaped her chunky locks, it complemented the sharp angles in Ella’s cheeks and jaw, softening her chin. Best of all was the notable absence of frizz.

  “You’re a wizard.”

  Ella cooed over the new look, her hands never leaving her soft curls while her hairdresser instructed her on how to repeat the look. On the other side of the room, Jenny pulled Wink out from under a hair-dryer and took out her curlers.

  Wink waxed poetic about her new hot pink hairdo, the color modern, but the style still reminiscent of her era. Rather than clash, they complemented each other.

  Ella turned towards Flo’s chair for her big reveal, and her mouth fell open.

  “Holy Bride of Frankenstein,” she whispered.

  “How ‘bout that? I get that reference.” Flo brushed a hand up her hair and kept going and going until she reached the top. “I agree, it does look good.”

  “I don’t think she meant it as a compliment,” Wink said.

  “Sure she did.”

  “No,” Ella said. “No, I definitely didn’t.”

  Behind Flo, her barely-old-enough-to-vote hairdresser looked like she hated herself and was questioning her life choices.

  With their new hairdos and new information involving Stan’s life, the three women left the salon.

  Outside on the sidewalk, Ella took in a lungful of cool air. “Anyone else feel their estrogen levels are high? Higher than Flo’s hair?”

  “Bit too much for my liking,” Flo said. “I need a drink and go to the shooting range.”

  “There’s a shooting range here?”

  “If you know where to look,” Flo winked.

  “She rotates through different fields and sections of the forest,” Wink explained, “to hide from Chapman.”

  “Fill me in on this Stan business before I go.”

  The diner had closed a half-hour before. Wink unlocked the door and ushered them inside. Flo’s new ‘do nearly brushed the top of the doorframe.

  Ella and Flo settled into the corner booth while Wink served up three thick slices of pumpkin pie smothered in clouds of whip cream. Ella had to excavate to locate her pie.

  She jumped up and poured some decaf coffee and settled back into her seat. While they ate, Ella and Wink took turns discussing Stan and what Ella had seen in his house.

  She savored her last bite. “So, if he was having an affair with Dot, what would her motive be in killing him?”

  “Nothing I can think of,” Wink said.

  “Could’ve been that wife of his.” Flo dabbed a napkin over her mouth, completely missing the dob of whip cream on her nose.

  “I’m not so sure.” Ella told them her reasoning. “Lilly just didn’t seem broken up. Actually, she seemed to be happy to be rid of the man.” She sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe the whole mistress angle isn’t it. Which leaves us back to the expansion project. Sorry, Wink, but it seems the most plausible that someone killed him because of the wind farm.”

  Wink licked her fork, nodding.

  “Who else is on the ‘Save the Hills’ committee?” She caught her cheek between her teeth, waiting for the response.

  “It’s a short list. The professor, of course.”

  “Isn’t Jonas on it, too?” Flo’s whip cream nose had now become a whip cream mask.

  “Yes, he is. We’re still trying to get a couple more, but people are reluctant to get involved.”

  Ella’s fingers traced a scratch in the tabletop. “Does the professor stand to lose his house with the expansion?”

  “Yes.”

  “So, it’s possible…”

  “I can’t see him hurting anyone.” Wink looked to Flo for confirmation.

  Ella’s head shot up. “Wait, did you also say Jonas? The farmer who blasted Stan at the meeting?”

  Both Flo and Wink nodded.

  “He seemed pretty upset to me,” Ella said, her hopes rising. “Could you see him hurting Stan?”

  Both of them were silent for some time before Flo said, “If he got mad enough, I suppose.”

  Ella moved him to the top of her suspect list. Flo left them, claiming she needed to “hit the hay,” but Ella suspected she wanted to make another batch of lemon bars to compete with Wink’s.

  After they deposited their dishes in the kitchen, Wink turned off the lights and locked the front door. Ella waited on the sidewalk while the diner owner climbed into her car, saying she’d see her at
the potluck tomorrow.

  As her car rumbled away, Ella’s head slumped forward, realizing she still needed to come up with something to take.

  Sighing, she decided she’d get to it first thing in the morning. Sundays were her day off, and she didn’t relish the idea of spending part of it in the kitchen, but she also didn’t want to be the newcomer who didn’t pull her own weight.

  Stepping through the wrought iron gate for the inn, she ambled up the stone path towards the stoop. A new moon and the street lamps stretched her shadow across the grass. The lights on either side of the front door were out, making her squint to see the steps.

  The bushes on her right rustled.

  “Fluffy?” Ella called.

  A figure stepped out. It remained in the shadows, the burning glow from the butt of a cigarette punctuating the dark.

  Six’s raspy voice scraped against her ears. “Been waiting for ya.”

  Her hand curled into a fist. Why hadn’t she asked Flo to borrow a gun?

  “What do you want, Six?” She forced her voice out even. He was like a yellow jacket, only stinging if he sensed fear.

  “Just wanted to chat.”

  “Now? In the dark? Kinda creepy, don’t you think?” She reached for the doorknob, and she heard the jingle of a spur as he took a step towards her.

  “Don’t,” he warned. “You turned me in to Chapman. You sent that law dog after me. You betrayed me.”

  He took another step into the rectangle of light spilling out of the parlor window. His face glowed with rage. “I’ve killed men for less than that, slit their throats and filled them with bullets for just taking my whiskey.”

  “Bit overdramatic,” Ella mumbled.

  He took a long drag from the rolled cigarette. “So, what do you think I’ll do to you?”

  It was a question that didn’t need answered. Her imagination went wild with all of the horrible, dark things he would do.

  Ella swallowed the bile rising in the back of her throat and said in a soft voice, “What happened to you? What happened to make you so full of hate? So bitter?”

  His face flenched as if she’d struck him with more than words.

 

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