Open House Heist

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

“It’s definitely a date,” Belle said. She smiled knowing she’d just poked the bears. All three of them.

  “With what?” Henrietta asked.

  “With whom,” I corrected, not wanting any more bear poking.

  “Yeah, that,” Henrietta said.

  Belle whispered something into Millie’s ear, but her words sounded like mumblings to the rest of us.

  Bonnie’s shoulders stiffened. “That ain’t proper manners.”

  Henrietta laughed. “Like you ever gave a lick about proper manners.”

  Bonnie swatted at Henrietta’s arm. “Hush, woman.”

  “Oh fine,” Millie said. “We’re going to visit Buford Jennings, but it’s their idea, not mine.”

  Bonnie and Henrietta stared at each other, both of their jaws hanging open.

  “Well lordy be, if this ain’t the ho in the hot dog, I don’t know what is,” Henrietta said.

  Belle tilted her head. “The who in the what?”

  She waved her hand. “Never you mind, but let me tell you, we are going with y’all to watch this if we got to hotwire us a car to get there.”

  I suppressed a laugh. “I’m pretty sure most cars are run on some type of computer now.”

  Henrietta pointed to an old, metal clunker Oldsmobile something or other parked two cars away from us. “That one ain’t.”

  Millie surrendered to the pressure. “Oh, they might as well tag along. What’s it gonna hurt other than my pride?” She smiled. “Besides, Lord knows the two of them are overdue for a beauty update.”

  The two old women huffed, and we all climbed into Belle’s crossover.

  * * *

  We pulled into the packed parking lot for Belletti’s Salon. The high-end multi-service salon catered to women of all ages, carried a line of handmade, real hair wigs, and provided makeup services. They focused on women with cancer, determined to give them a chance to feel as beautiful as they wanted on the outside, to help heal them through a positive experience where they could feel good about themselves. They did such a great job, they’d developed a reputation as a local leader for prom, weddings, and other big events, too.

  “Belletti’s? How’d you get an appointment here that quick? I heard it takes months to get a slot.” I leaned into her as we walked toward the front entrance and whispered, “And who’s paying for it? This place is pricey.”

  “I told you Matthew’s sister was doing the makeover, and this is where she works. She got us in, and I got the family discount.”

  “What’s that, ten percent?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Free.”

  I fanned my neck with my hand. “Oh honey, you are totally hooking me up with that for my wedding.”

  “Already the plan, honey.”

  I strutted into the salon with a racing heart, beaming with excitement. It was going to be a bushel of fun watching Millie be transformed in front of us. I didn’t think she needed a transformation, but if it helped calm her nerves, it was worth it. Plus, it was just exciting to be a part of her adventure.

  A petite woman with long blonde curls dangling from a clip on the back of her head rushed over and hugged Belle like they were the best of friends. “Well, there she is, my future sister-in-law.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  Bonnie’s mouth opened, but before she could get anything out, Belle held up a hand and said, “No, no, no. There’s no wedding bells in this gal’s future, so don’t y’all go getting all out of sorts, you hear?” She hugged the blonde woman. “Don’t go talking that kind of talk around these women, it’ll spread like a forest fire in town.”

  The woman laughed. “Good. Then maybe my lazy brother’ll see the light.”

  Belle introduced the rest of us to Matthew’s sister. “Everyone, this is Jess. Jess, these women run Bramblett County. Even your brother won’t mess with them.”

  “That’s too bad, too ‘cause he’s a looker,” Bonnie said.

  Jess laughed. “Oh, I like you already, but trust me,” she pointed to her head. “He may have the looks, but he doesn’t have the brain to go along with them.”

  Henrietta nodded. “Just how I like my men. Good looking and stupid. Is he handy? If so, then I call dibs.”

  Belle sighed. “This is why we don’t take them anywhere.”

  “They shouldn’t be allowed out of the county,” Millie said.

  Bonnie groaned. “We come to support you. You don’t like it, we’ll leave.”

  “How we going to do that?” Henrietta asked. “Belle drove.”

  “We’ll call one of them car services. The ub…ub…that fancy taxi company my grandson uses.”

  “I ain’t paying no taxi to drive us twenty miles home. I’m on a limited income, one that limits me from doing a lot of the fun stuff I should be doing, so I got to keep me every penny of it for that.”

  Belle sighed, and she did it loudly. “Ladies, goodness. Y’all are fixin’ to drive me to drink. Now come on. Jess doesn’t have all day, and we got a man to see.”

  After Jess washed Millie’s hair and combed out the knots, we all stood in awe. Millie wore her gray locks in a bun for as long as I could remember, and to see it hanging down and off the sides of the salon chair caught us all off guard.

  Henrietta cooed as she lifted a handful of the gray stands and rolled it in her fingers. “Sugar, you got to let these locks down every now and again.” She held more of Millie’s surprisingly stunning hair and dropped it back onto her neck. “I’d give my left kidney for hair like that.”

  “Her hair is gorgeous,” Jess said. She smoothed the mess Henrietta made, ran a comb through it again, and then picked up her scissors.

  Millie flinched. “Wait a minute, I didn’t say you could take the scissors to it. I haven’t had it cut in years, I don’t want to start now.”

  Jess rested her hand on Millie’s shoulder and smiled at her in the mirror. “Sweetie, I’m not cutting any of the length off, I promise. Your hair is too beautiful to cut. I’m just trimming up the ends to remove the split ends.”

  Millie stared at the mirror, her mouth a thin, straight line. “You promise?”

  Jess nodded. “I promise.”

  She showed her about an inch worth of hair that needed to go, and after a brief, albeit tense discussion, they agreed on half that amount.

  After the trim Jess gently stroked a mild leave-in conditioner through the strands and sprayed at the roots with a setting solution.

  “What’s a setting solution?” Millie asked.

  Jess clipped a large portion of hair to the top of Millie’s head and separated the rest into sections. She sprayed a section with the setting solution and rolled it over a large rubbery curler. “It’s kind of like a hairspray for wet hair, but it doesn’t make the hair sticky, just helps the curl set properly.”

  “I don’t curl my hair.”

  “You do now,” Bonnie said.

  Henrietta removed her pink hat with red and white silk roses and fluffed her gray hair. “I might could use me some of that special hairspray, too. I got me a case of the bedhead.”

  Bonnie snorted. “That ain’t bedhead you old coot. That’s what they call hat head.”

  Henrietta snarled at her friend. “It is so bedhead. Why, you can ask Billy Ray.” She shook her head slightly and stuck her chin up. “He’ll tell you just how I got it.”

  “If that was bed head, which it ain’t, I’d know how you got it, and falling asleep on Billy Ray’s couch don’t count.”

  Henrietta glared at Bonnie. “You don’t know nothing.”

  “Em hmm.” Bonnie pointed to a slender brunette sitting in the reception area just behind us. “See that?”

  The three of them swiveled around and checked out the woman’s ‘do while Belle and I tried to turn and see without being as obvious. Luckily the woman had her head down as she typed on her phone.

  “That’s what you call bedhead.”

  Loose strands of fly-away hairs dangled along the woman’s hairline. The rest
had been haphazardly wrapped in a clip on the top of her head. I had to admit, she had the appearance of someone who’d left in a hurry. Where she’d left from, though was anyone’s guess.

  Jess went back to rolling Millie’s hair. “Are they always like this?”

  I nodded. “Never a dull moment when they’re around.”

  She laughed. “I bet not.”

  After she finished rolling, she opened a cabinet next to the mirror, and Belle squealed. “Oh, bless your ever-loving heart. There’s got to be at least five thousand dollars’ worth of makeup in there.” She popped out of her seat to closely examine the different products. “MAC, Elizabeth Arden. Oh, my Lord, there’s red door red lipstick in here. That’s my favorite. You’ve got to use that on Millie.” She plucked the lipstick from the cabinet, removed the top and twisted the bottom as the waxy red stick grew from the tube. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

  Bonnie and Henrietta giggled.

  “What? You don’t like it?”

  They giggled again.

  “We like it just fine,” Henrietta said.

  Bonnie nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like a—”

  I covered her mouth with the palm of my hand, knowing exactly what she’d planned to say. “How about we talk about what other items Jess is going to use instead?”

  Jess chuckled. “Well, first we’ll start with a hydrating cream to moisturize her skin and allow the other products to sink in instead of appear cakey.”

  Bonnie leaned toward Millie’s face. “She’s got a lot of wrinkles to cover, but don’t be putting too much on her. My grandson Nicholas says all the girls got so much stuff on their face that when they take it off, you done can’t recognize them. They look like models with it on, then all of a sudden they look like the wrong end of a pig that’s been rolling in mud all day.”

  The woman in the salon chair next to Millie stared at Bonnie. She’d had a face full of makeup applied in the time we’d been there, and her transformation was impressive. Bonnie noticed her staring and tapped Jess on the side of the arm. She whispered into Jess’s ear, only her whisper wasn’t all that low. “Like that one there. That’s what my grandson would call false advertising.”

  Jess busted out laughing. “I promise, when I’m done, she’ll look beautiful, and not fake or caked at all.”

  Millie sat in the chair with her face frozen in something similar to complete, guttural fear. “Don’t make me look like Joan Rivers. I like a more natural look.”

  Jess patted her shoulder and smiled at her in the mirror. “I’m confident you’ll be happy with the results.”

  Thirty minutes later, after she’d detailed every step of her process for Bonnie and Henrietta, with Belle taking notes for them, she removed the curlers from Millie’s hair, set it in a soft, relaxed up style, and pulled a few loose strands down framing her face. She stepped back and asked Millie what she thought.

  Millie’s face lit up, and a smile stretched across it. “Oh, bless your heart, I look like me, but better.”

  “Didn’t think you could do much with that hot mess, but I was wrong,” Bonnie said.

  “Hush now. I got all the fixin’s for being a beauty queen, I just haven’t felt the need to use them.”

  Henrietta opened her mouth, but Millie shut her down right quick. “Zip it, you old biddy.”

  I smiled at Millie in the mirror. “You look amazing.”

  “You do,” Belle said.

  We showered her with compliments hoping to keep her confidence high so the get together with Buford Jennings would be easier for her.

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” she said. She stood from the salon chair and hugged Jess. “I’m probably going to have to make payments for this, hope that’s okay.”

  Jess waved her hand. “Honey, this one’s on me. Anyone that Belle considers family, I consider family. You don’t worry about paying me at all.” She winked. “Though I’ve heard you have some pretty amazing raspberry scones.”

  “On the house whenever you come to visit, and that better be soon,” Millie said.

  * * *

  Sarah and Buford were waiting for us in the main sitting area. Buford was dressed in his Sunday best, or as my momma called them, his church goin’ clothes, and he was absolutely adorable.

  Bonnie and Henrietta charged over and all but dragged the startled man off the couch.

  “Well now, if it isn’t the old fuddy dud himself,” Bonnie said.

  Buford squinted. “Do I know you?”

  Bonnie’s scowled, but Henrietta laughed. “Look at that, you ain’t that memorable, you old bag.” She winked at Buford. “Bet you remember me now, don’t you, Buford?”

  He eyed her up and down and when he made eye contact with her again, he shook his head and said, “Can’t say that I do.”

  Both women grunted, and Buford laughed. “’Course I remember y’all. How could I not? You two ain’t the type to sit in the crowd and go unnoticed.”

  That made them both feel better, I thought, from the smiles on their faces.

  Millie had secured a well-hidden position behind me and Belle, and the two of us, after saying hello to Buford, moved slightly to our sides. “Buford, you remember Millie now, don’t you?” I asked.

  When their eyes met I almost burst into tears. Both had the biggest, sweetest smiles, and their eyes sparkled like two teenagers in love. It was really that lovely.

  They stood there staring at each other until Bonnie finally coughed and said, “You two going to hug or something? I’m old, I want to see how ends, but I don’t got all the time in the world you know.”

  Sarah jumped in to save the day, or Buford and Millie, at least. “How about I show you two ladies around?”

  Belle and I strongly encouraged them to take the tour even though they swore they weren’t in need of any kind of assistance in living. “Nice try ladies, now scoot,” Belle said.

  “Yes, let’s give these two a little time alone to catch up.”

  The ladies grumbled but gave in.

  I told Millie we’d be back in an hour or maybe a bit longer. Her face quickly went pale, but I assured her she’d be fine, and made sure she had my number if she needed to make a quick escape.

  Belle hit the unlock button on her key fob. “Where are we going?”

  I glanced at the clock on my phone. “I’d like to run by Eric Rooting’s office. I have a question for him, and it’s not far from here.”

  “Awesome. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Eric wasn’t as pleasant as he’d been the first time we met, but I expected as much. I’d learned that asking people uncomfortable questions and putting them on the spot weren’t ways to increase my popularity, but my mission was bigger than being popular.

  “I only have a minute, so you’ll have to make this quick.”

  We sat across from him in his office. “No problem,” I said. Did you know Jenny kept a diary?”

  He didn’t flinch. “No, but I’d imagine a lot of girls do that sort of thing.”

  “Clara Covington gave it to me, and I’ve had a chance to read over some of the entries.”

  “Okay, and what exactly does this have to do with me?”

  “She makes reference to knowing about you and Amy, and wrote that she intended to show up at the drag race to confront you both, but that was the night she was killed. Can you tell me again if you talked to her before the race?”

  He leaned forward. “Miss Sprayberry, are you accusing me of killing my girlfriend?”

  My body stiffened. “I’m asking if you spoke to her the day she died.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “That was over thirty-years ago. I don’t know. We talked daily like most high school boys and girls did, so I’m assuming that yes, I talked to her that day, but I can’t say when or what it was about.” He sat back in his seat again. “But I can say she didn’t confront me about anything concerning Amy Flanders.”

  “I haven’t finished the diary, but ther
e are several mentions about the two of you, and she references knowing the truth, but Amy insists nothing happened, so what do you think would make Jenny think it had?”

  “She thought it had because it did, regardless of what Amy Flanders said. Of course everyone knew it. It was a small town, and a small school, and rumors were rampant about me.” A slow, arrogant smile took over his face. “If Amy still won’t own up to her misappropriations in high school, then I don’t know what to tell you.” His cell phone beeped, and he checked it, tapped in a quick response and gave me another sly, borderline creepy smile. “Now, I’m sorry, but I really have to get back to work.”

  Outside, Belle grunted. “I hated guys like that in high school.”

  “Me too, but he’s well past that age.”

  “Just goes to show you most men don’t change.”

  I checked my watch. It had only been forty minutes. “Feel like snooping in a teenager’s diary?”

  “That’s the best offer I’ve had in over an hour.”

  I pulled the diary out of my bag just as Eric Rooting stepped out of his building. He saw me, and pivoted to the right instead of heading our direction. “That’s odd.”

  “What?”

  Belle checked behind her and as she pulled out of the angled spot, a car horn beeped. She hit the brakes as a large black Hummer sped past. “God bless, that thing almost hit me.”

  “Technically you almost hit it.” I pulled on her the seat belt tighter and smiled. “Pay attention woman.”

  She shook her head. “That guy would have been at fault. He came charging though here like he owns the road.”

  “Em hmm.”

  We sat in the car at the assisted living community and flipped through the pages of Jennifer Rawlings’ diary.

  Her bubbly, looping script covered each page from the start with sticky sweet comments about E and how ‘rad’ of a boyfriend he was. They’d only been dating a month when she first started the diary, so she wrote, but she was confident they’d be together forever.

  “Ah, young love,” Belle sighed. “It’s good to know girls were just as stupid then as we were.”

  “It stands the test of time, for sure.”