Lipstick and Lies (Murder In Style Book 2)

by Gina LaManna

  “How’d you hear about that?”

  “Word travels, Ms. McGovern.”

  “I wasn’t trying to insinuate anything. I was just making small talk.”

  “Here’s what I think you were trying to insinuate.” Ellen leaned forward, crossed her arms over her chest. “You come in here talking of a business venture that went south between me and a dead woman. It doesn’t take a career styling suits on NCIS to figure out what you’re getting at.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I was just making small talk. And my idea about opening a salon in Blueberry Lake was legitimate.”

  “Right,” she said, not sounding convinced. “And you just happened to need a manicure and an eyebrow wax today.”

  “Self-care is very important. I try to keep it a priority at all times. If I don’t feel good, how am I supposed to function?”

  Ellen gave a snort. “Hollywood problems.”

  I crossed my own arms in response to Ellen. “I didn’t come here to accuse you of anything.”

  “Maybe not, but you did come here to poke your nose into things that aren’t your business,” Ellen said. “So, let me clear the air for you.”

  “That’s not necessary—”

  “You’re right,” Ellen interrupted. “Shania and I did have a business idea that went south. We were going to open a salon together. Talked about it for months. Years, even. We were friends going into it—she was going to be the sole owner because she was fronting the capital, but we were in it together. Then at the last second, she cut me out of the deal.”

  “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “That sounds awful.”

  “She didn’t even tell me,” Ellen said. “She told our lawyer first. Signed the paperwork without bothering to let me know. So, was there bad blood between us? Yes. Did I kill her over it? No.”

  “It seems like you’ve been getting some of her clients lately.”

  Ellen gave me a smirk. “When rumor started spreading that Shania was going out on her own, it caused a rift among her customers like we knew it would. Some chose to switch over to me and stay at Butternut Babes because they’ve been here forever.”

  “Like Angela Wu and Becky Swanson?”

  Ellen’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly like them. Who told you that?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’m only trying to help.”

  “I didn’t like Shania very much at the end, there,” Ellen said, “but I didn’t kill her. And now, I think this conversation is over. Kendra, can you get our customer here checked out? Full eyebrow wax and manicure.”

  I glanced at my highlighter pink nails and hoped my trip to Butternut Babes would be worth the money I’d paid. Really, this should be a business expense for the police department, but I doubted Cooper would back me up on that one.

  “I’ll just...” I hesitated. “I’ll pay up front.”

  “Kendra!”

  “She’s on lunch,” another stylist called back. “I’m at the front desk, I’ve got it.”

  I checked out with the stylist who’d been working on Allie’s hair for the Bachelorette Ball, paid, and scooted my way out to the car without a backward glance. I hopped into my mother’s truck and cruised toward her shop, wondering if Ellen was telling the truth, the full truth, and nothing but the truth...

  Or if she’d been more upset than she’d let on, and if Shania Boot had paid the ultimate price.

  Chapter 19

  “Well, this is great news,” my mother said as she pulled into my driveway after we’d closed her shop for the day. “I knew my favorite police chief could do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “Solve the case.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She nodded toward my next-door neighbor’s driveway. I swiveled my gaze to where she was looking and found—for the first time in days—Matt’s truck parked in the driveway.

  “I’m not sure that means the case is solved,” I said. “It just means Matt’s decided to go back to his house... which is where he lives... which is legal, you know, since it’s his house. And it’s none of our business.”

  “Matt wouldn’t go back if the murderer was still out there,” my mother argued. “What if he came back?”

  “He or she,” I muttered, thinking of my earlier conversation with Ellen.

  I also thought of my conversations with Chris Tucker and Amy Knowles, and I wondered which one of the three was lying more than the others. They couldn’t all be telling the truth, but how could I possibly know who was guiltier than the rest?

  “Do you know something I don’t?” My mother looked pointedly at me. “I heard that you’d given up poking around into unsavory things.”

  “I’m trying,” I said. “It’s a constant battle.”

  “Jenna, this isn’t funny.”

  “No, but where Matt is staying isn’t any of our business. If he feels safe to be home and has cleared it with the police, more power to him.”

  “It is our business if he’s at your house.”

  “What?” I jerked my head toward the house but there were no signs of life.

  “The greenhouse,” my mother said. “The door’s open. Has he started work there? June mentioned he was going to swing by today.”

  “He has,” I said, fondly catching sight of Matt’s newest handiwork. “Look what he found.”

  “Oh, Jenna.” My mother’s hand reached for her necklace, and she toyed with the chain as her eyes watered. “He found the sign!”

  “And hung it up,” I said. “That’s new.”

  Matt had been hard at work while I’d been fitting local lawyers in pretty dresses and getting my eyebrows tidied up. He’d torn down more of the old vines from around the greenhouse and piled them in a gigantic stack. He’d also taken the Green’s sign and hung it in its familiar location above the now-visible front door. It swung in the breeze, lapping gently back and forth in all its former glory.

  “Well, that’s great,” my mother said, clearing her throat. “I’m relieved to see you’re having something done with the place. It’d be such a shame to see it go to waste.”

  “I agree,” I said, sliding out of the front seat. “I’m going to go find Matt and offer him dinner.”

  “You have food at your place?”

  “I’ll take him out.”

  “With what car?”

  “We’ll order in,” I said. “It’s the thought that counts.”

  My mother sighed. “Someday, maybe you’ll learn.”

  “Goodnight, mother,” I said. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning before your shift.”

  “Who says my car won’t be fixed by then?”

  “Do you have the money to fix your car?” My mother raised her eyebrows.

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  My mother reversed down the driveway and made her way home to Sid. It was dusk, which, seeing as spring was imminent, was coming later and later. I checked my watch, realized it was nearly eight p.m. and Matt must be starving.

  I heard him clinking around in the greenhouse and headed that way to offer him food of some sort. There was a good chance we’d end up back at Matt’s house to eat, but like I’d told my mother, it was the thought that counted.

  Before I could make my way through the damp grass to Matt, my phone rang. One glance at the name had me changing my course to head inside my house as I clicked answer. I told myself it was because I probably should change out my Melissa Moore stilettos for my galoshes, but in all actuality, I just didn’t want to talk to Cooper Dear in front of Matt.

  “Hello?” I answered, shoving the front door open with my shoulder.

  “Where are you?” Cooper asked.

  “Home,” I said, kicking my shoes off. “Why?”

  “Are you alone?”

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” I said. “Why?”

  “Just wondering,” he said. “I hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

 
; “I didn’t know I was supposed to be checking in.”

  “I know you visited the salon and asked around about Shania.”

  “Oh? Did you get your eyebrows done today too?” I asked, slipping one foot into my boot. “Sit in on gossip with the regular ladies?”

  “I picked up the phone from Chris last night.”

  “Shania’s?”

  “That’s the one,” Cooper said. “It was interesting.”

  “How interesting?” My gut sank.

  “Is Matt around?”

  “Why do you ask?” I sauntered over to the window and peeked out. I couldn’t see movement in the greenhouse, but the door was still propped open.

  “I thought I’d heard he’d gone back home.”

  “He might be,” I said. “I just got home myself. I haven’t checked.”

  “Right. Is his car there?”

  “That’s probably a yes,” I hedged. “Listen, Coop. Don’t ask me to spy on my neighbor. What do you want?”

  “Matt wasn’t telling the truth before. He had been in contact with Shania more recently than he’d let on.”

  I bit my lip, returned inside to the kitchen. I began opening cupboard doors and wishing I had some snacks to munch away my nerves.

  “Judging by your silence, you knew as much,” Cooper said. “Is it worth asking why you didn’t say something to me sooner?”

  “I told you about the phone,” I said. “I had a strong suspicion of what was on it. And just because Matt wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his relationship with Shania doesn’t mean he killed her.”

  “Why lie?”

  “Ask him! I’m supposed to be staying out of this mess.”

  “But you’re not,” Cooper said. “You’re only staying out when it’s convenient for you. And frankly, I don’t like the idea of you spending the night alone when Matt’s next door.”

  “Well, tough luck,” I said. “Because that’s what will happen unless you’re planning to come sleep on my couch.”

  Cooper waited a beat.

  “Don’t respond to that,” I said. “You’re not invited. It wasn’t Matt, okay? You know it, deep down. Look at my tires.”

  “I haven’t looked at them because you kept that a secret.”

  “Matt wouldn’t have slashed my tires immediately after I told him I was planning to stay out of the case! That makes no sense. He would have known that messing with my new baby would only anger me and draw me back into the situation.”

  Cooper coughed. “Your baby?”

  “Some babies aren’t the cutest,” I said. “Mine’s one of them. But I love him all the same.”

  Cooper laughed. “I’m glad to see Eddie found a good home for that... thing.”

  “You’re wasting your time if you think Matt had anything to do with Shania’s murder,” I said. “That’s all I’m going to say. If you want to talk to Matt, you can do it on your own. I’m not getting between the two of you anymore.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re planted firmly between the two of us,” Cooper said. “And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”

  “Ha-ha,” I said. “If you just left me alone, maybe it would.”

  “Is that what you want?” Cooper asked, his voice soft. “Would you like me to leave you alone?”

  “No comment,” I growled. “But I’m not your go-between, so don’t make me choose between you and Matt.”

  “Someday, Jenna, you’ll have to.”

  “Is this a business or a personal call, chief?”

  Cooper cleared his throat. “Sorry to have bothered you. I just wanted to give you an update on the phone situation. Keep an eye out, will you? Lock your doors.”

  “Matt doesn’t—”

  “Matt or not, there’s still a killer out there.”

  “Finally, we agree on something,” I said grudgingly. “Thanks for the update. And I guarantee if you talk to Matt, he’ll give you the full story.”

  “Did he give it to you?”

  “Enough,” I said. “Not that it makes a difference. I believed him before. Nothing has changed.”

  “That’s very noble of you,” Cooper said. “Before I let you go, there’s one more thing.”

  I held my breath, wondering if we were transitioning from business to personal once more. “Yes?”

  “Do you know someone named Kendra?”

  I racked my brain. “Someone from Blueberry Lake?”

  “Probably Butternut Bay,” Cooper said. “There’s a contact in Shania’s phone under Kendra, and it looks like the two women chatted quite often. Or at least, it looks like Kendra called Shania a bunch. The last few weeks, Shania stopped answering.”

  I felt my blood run cold. “I actually just met someone named Kendra this past weekend... at Butternut Babes.”

  “She’d have been Shania’s colleague, then?” Cooper asked. “There were also calls from Amy Knowles and Chris Tucker, but both of their names had already come up in the investigation. I was going to trace down this Kendra to see what their relationship was all about.”

  “That is interesting,” I said carefully. “If it’s the same woman I’m thinking of, she’s the receptionist at the salon where Shania worked. I haven’t heard her name come up at all, so I’m not sure if their relationship was public knowledge. Or if Chris knew about it.”

  “Either that, or it’s nothing,” Cooper said. “Could just be some work calls—Kendra ringing up Shania to leave messages for client appointments or whatnot. Anyway, I’ll look into it. Thanks, Jenna.”

  “Anytime.”

  I hung up, mystified by Cooper’s findings. The information about Matt hadn’t surprised me since I’d known that would be there, but Kendra’s name had come out of left field.

  It was interesting her name hadn’t come up in passing—either from a jealous friend (Amy Knowles) or a jealous boyfriend (Chris Tucker). Had Shania been keeping her relationship with Kendra quiet on purpose? Or was Cooper right, and there was nothing there aside from work chatter, hence the reason nobody had thought to mention the frequency of their calls?

  As I mused on Cooper’s findings, I adjusted my boots and pulled a sweater over my shoulders. Opening the front door, I scrolled through my contact list and dialed Butternut Babe’s front desk number.

  “Hello?” a breathless voice answered. “We’re just closing up shop.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry to call so late,” I said. “But I was hoping to speak with Ellen. She did my brows earlier and told me to get in touch with her if I had any questions.”

  “Oh, okay, I can patch you through to her cell if you’d like,” the woman said. “We aren’t allowed to give out phone numbers.”

  “Works for me,” I said. “Thank you.”

  I waited impatiently on my front steps as the phone rang through. I crossed my fingers that Ellen would answer because this was the one shot I had to get ahold of her without having to go seriously digging for her private phone number.

  Just when I’d started to give up hope of reaching anything but an answering machine, a familiar voice answered.

  “Hello? This is Ellen.”

  “Hi, Ellen,” I said. “This is Jenna McGovern. You did my mani and wax today.”

  “I know who you are,” she said coldly. “Why are you calling me?”

  “I know I’m the last person you want to talk to,” I said quickly. “But this is important. Do you know what sort of relationship Kendra and Shania had?”

  “What do you mean, relationship?” she asked. “I mean, we all worked together.”

  “Right, but was there a personal friendship beyond it?”

  “Yeah, I mean, most of us are or were friends at one point,” she said. “I’m sure they were friends.”

  “Would Kendra have any reason to call Shania frequently? And would there be any reason why Shania wouldn’t answer?”

  “I don’t think Kendra would have been calling Shania recently.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  �
�Well, we were going to bring Kendra with us to the new salon,” she said. “In fact, when Shania dumped me, I thought maybe she and Kendra were going in on a salon together. Kendra’s in cosmetology school.”

  My heart started to pump faster. “But that wasn’t the case? Shania wasn’t planning on taking Kendra along?”

  “No, and worse,” Ellen continued, “Kendra’s last day is next week. Well, it was. But we were able to keep her on after Shania died.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “If Shania had gone through and opened another salon, she would have taken a big chunk of clients with her. We were talking about having to do cutbacks. It’s a luxury to have a full-time receptionist. Before we hired Kendra, we basically did without. Whenever anyone came in the door, whoever could pause in their procedure went up front to take down the client’s information.”

  “So, Shania’s death saved Kendra’s job?”

  “I—well, I didn’t mean it like that, but I guess you could say so,” Ellen said doubtfully. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “Kendra was burned by Shania not once, but twice,” I said. “When she promised to take her along to the new salon, and then again when she dropped her because Kendra’s job was lost.”

  “I suppose,” Ellen said. “She was pretty upset the first time because Shania had promised her a chair at the new salon. Like I said, Kendra’s in cosmetology school. She was stressed about losing her job, too. I mean, how’s she supposed to afford school with no income?”

  “I hear that,” I said. “Money is the worst. At least, not having it is.”

  “I still don’t understand what you’re getting at. You don’t think... you can’t possibly think...”

  “I was just curious,” I said. “Thanks for taking the time to talk with me.”

  “Kendra wouldn’t have killed Shania,” Ellen said softly. “That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it? That’s ridiculous. She wouldn’t have—couldn’t have. They were friends.”

  “I don’t know, Ellen,” I said. “I’m just asking around. Trying to figure this out.”

  Ellen inhaled sharply.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s just—” Ellen hesitated. “I don’t think it’s relevant.”