Death of a Blueberry Tart

by Lee Hollis

  The pets were nowhere to be found either. Typically they were all over the bed at this point, trying to prod Hayley out from under the comforter, so she could only assume they had already been fed and were now parked near the kitchen table anticipating someone dropping a piece of bacon or egg they could quickly hoover up before anyone had a chance to stop them.

  Hayley forced herself out of the warm, comfy bed and threw on a sweater over her T-shirt and cotton shorts since it was unusually cold this morning, and then she dragged herself down the stairs to the kitchen, where, as expected, Bruce was sitting at the table as Sheila served him another helping of scrambled eggs and bacon. Bruce merrily scarfed it down as Sheila buttered some more toast for him at the counter.

  “Good morning,” Hayley grumbled.

  “Oh, good morning,” Sheila chirped. “Sit down and I’ll get you a plate.”

  “It’s really delicious.” Bruce moaned. “Her scrambled eggs are the best I’ve ever had.”

  “I just doll them up with a few herbs and spices, nothing too fancy,” Sheila cooed modestly. “But I’m so glad you like them.”

  Sheila moved to the stove, where she flipped over some sizzling bacon in the frying pan. “Bacon will be just another minute. I know you like yours extra crispy, Hayley.”

  “Thank you,” Hayley mumbled, looking down to see both Leroy and Blueberry exactly where she had expected them to be, perched nearby, ready to pounce on any stray food crumbs.

  “Well, I, for one, had a wonderful time last night,” Sheila said even though no one asked. “That was so kind of Randy to do that for us. It was such a treat seeing all of my old high school classmates and sharing memories and seeing how they’re all doing.”

  “Most of them anyway,” Bruce cracked.

  “Let’s not get into that. If I never hear the name Caskie Lemon-Hogg again in my lifetime, it will still be too soon,” Sheila groaned.

  The doorbell rang.

  Hayley, who was hungrily eyeing the bacon frying a few feet away, sat up, surprised. “Who’s at the door at this hour?”

  She glanced over at Bruce, who had no interest in finding out as he scraped the last of his eggs onto a fork and shoved them into his mouth.

  “Just enjoy your breakfast, Bruce, I’ll get it,” Hayley said with as much sarcasm as she could muster this early in the morning.

  “Thanks,” Bruce said with his mouth full.

  Sheila was busy preparing Hayley’s breakfast plate.

  Hayley stood up and ambled down the hall to answer the door.

  On the front porch stood Police Chief Sergio Alvarez, the handsome Brazilian always dashing in his crisp, pressed uniform.

  “Sergio, what brings you here so early? Did Mom invite you for breakfast too?”

  “No, I’m afraid I’m here on business,” Sergio said.

  Hayley’s heart skipped a beat.

  Based on his serious expression and somber tone, something was definitely wrong.

  She opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  Sergio stepped into the foyer as Hayley closed the door behind him. He spotted Sheila in the kitchen salting Hayley’s eggs before she set the plate down on the table.

  “Your breakfast’s ready, Hayley!” Sheila called to her.

  Hayley leaned in closer to Sergio. “What’s going on? Did I do something?”

  “I’m not here for you. I’m here for your mother,” Sergio said, a pained look on his face.

  “Oh . . .” Hayley whispered before leading Sergio down the hall to the kitchen.

  Sheila brightened at the sight of Sergio. “Well, if it isn’t my strapping son-in-law Sergio! Look at that gorgeous face! I always said, my son, Randy, got his taste in men from me!”

  She dropped her spatula, raced over, and threw her arms around him. He forced a smile and drew her in. Sheila reached up and patted his hard chest. “Feel these pecs . . .” She then moved to his upper arm. “And those biceps . . .”

  She pulled back from the hug and spun Sergio around so his back was to everybody. Then she slapped his behind. “And that butt! Talk about a work of art.”

  “Mom, stop objectifying Sergio,” Hayley scolded.

  “I don’t mind . . . really . . .” Sergio said.

  Sheila guided him to the kitchen table. “Sit down and have some breakfast.”

  “I can’t,” Sergio said quietly. “Like I told Hayley, I’m here on business.”

  Bruce, who was now stuffing buttered toast into his mouth, suddenly dropped the crust on his plate. “Police business? What’s happened?”

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait until everyone has a full stomach,” Sheila said, pulling out a chair. “Go on, Sergio, sit down.”

  “I’m sorry, Sheila, this can’t wait,” Sergio said, struggling to just get it out.

  Hayley finally decided to help him. “Mom, Sergio is here to see you about something.”

  “Me?” Sheila laughed, genuinely surprised. “What on earth could I have possibly done?”

  Sergio sighed. “When I got to the station this morning, there was a lady there waiting to see me. Do you know a Caskie Lemon-Hogg?”

  Sheila grunted. “See, it’s been two minutes and her name has come up again. There is no getting away from her!”

  “What did she want?” Bruce asked, now curious.

  Sergio paused. This was not easy for him. But then he took a breath and soldiered on. “She has taken out a restraining order.”

  “A restraining order? Against who?” Sheila asked.

  “You,” Sergio said softly.

  Sheila gasped. “Me?”

  Sergio nodded. “You, Celeste, and Jane. She says you threatened her last night and she is in fear for her life!”

  There was a long silence.

  And then Sheila cackled. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! We did no such thing! She’s making the whole thing up, isn’t she, Hayley?”

  Hayley stood frozen by the kitchen counter. She picked up a glass of orange juice her mother had poured for her and downed it.

  Sheila turned to her. “Hayley?”

  “What?”

  “Tell Sergio that Caskie is lying,” Sheila said.

  Hayley set the glass back down on the counter. “It’s just that . . .”

  Sergio’s eyes narrowed. “It’s just that what?”

  “At the reunion, I remember Mom saying something like if Caskie didn’t stop behaving badly, she’d regret it,” Hayley muttered.

  Sheila threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, please. That is not a threat! I was just speaking my mind!”

  “I’m sorry, Sheila, but actually it is, and Mrs. Lemon-Hogg gave me a list of six witnesses who were nearby and heard you say it.”

  “Please tell me you are not going to take this woman seriously!” Sheila scoffed.

  “It’s already done! She wasted no time. Apparently she has friends in high places. She called Judge Larkin at five this morning. By the time she showed up at my office at six thirty, the judge had already granted the protection order. If you go anywhere near her, I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”

  Sheila’s mouth dropped open in shock as she processed this information and then her face reddened with anger. “This is just a desperate cry for attention and an attempt to embarrass me for calling her out at the reunion!”

  “Look on the bright side, Mom. Now you have a reason to avoid her! It’s actually a win-win!” Hayley said.

  Sheila gave her daughter a withering look.

  And Hayley decided it was best to just stop talking and eat a piece of the now burnt bacon in the frying pan.

  Chapter 9

  Julio’s Salon was the most popular hair salon in Bar Harbor, most notably due to its charming, swoon-worthy namesake and owner, Julio Garcia. Many of his loyal customers were more than happy to pay the fifty bucks for a wash and style from the lead stylist, Julio himself, especially since the service included the sexy Argentinean seductively running h
is strong, manly fingers through one’s hair, which was known to cause heart palpitations on more than one occasion.

  Julio had immigrated to the United States from Buenos Aires when he was in his early twenties, already a trained hairdresser, and was drawn to Maine by an old friend, Betsy Calhoun, whom he had met while she was on vacation in South America. Betsy was a local stylist with her own shop in Bar Harbor, and she gave Julio a job sweeping hair off the floor and running errands. It didn’t take long for him to graduate to cutting hair, and then after only a few months, most of Betsy’s customers were requesting Julio. It was only natural for Julio to ultimately strike out on his own and open his own salon. He got the necessary funds from a rich girl he was dating at the time, Jeanette Stout, whom he later married. This new venture—the salon, not his relationship with Jeanette—did not sit very well with Betsy, who felt betrayed and never spoke to him again.

  As Julio’s business took off, Betsy’s faltered, and she finally moved to Scarborough to live with a new boyfriend and cut hair there. That’s when Julio’s inevitable domination of the Bar Harbor beauty business was finally complete. Now, he was in constant demand for bridal parties the day of the weddings as well as the first choice of many of the celebrities who summered on the island, and all the rich folks attending private functions and special events.

  Julio was now in his early forties, still drop-dead gorgeous, with a silky smooth deep voice that continued to send ripples through the bodies of most of his female customers, not to mention a few males who reliably wandered in for a quick trim and shave. And even though Julio was still married to Jeanette, who was rarely seen in public, many people assumed he was single and ready to mingle by the way he flirted shamelessly with his clientele, especially his older, attractive female customers, even the ones who were not drowning in money. If a woman was younger than forty-five, then Julio never really seemed to appear to be interested in anything but her hair.

  Sheila had made an appointment for both her and Hayley today during Hayley’s lunch hour because, in her words, “You really need to do something about that wild frizzy mess on top of your head, Hayley.”

  Hayley bit her tongue and agreed to accompany her mother, mostly because Sheila had offered to pay the fifty bucks it would take to get Hayley’s uncooperative hair under control.

  Julio had often cut and styled Sheila’s hair in the years before she permanently moved to Florida for a warmer climate, and so he knew just how to treat her when she swept into his shop with Hayley lagging behind her. He hugged Sheila tightly, making sure she got a good whiff of his masculine-scented cologne. In one of his more over-the-top gestures, he kissed her hand, and then led her over to a black leather salon chair, whipped open a black bib with all the focus and precision of a matador waving a red cape in front of a snorting bull, and then draped it around her and whispered in her ear as he tied it gently around her neck, “What can I do for you today, beautiful?”

  After giggling like a schoolgirl who just got asked to the prom by the high school quarterback, Sheila requested a bit of color to wash out the gray and a blow-dry. Julio was more than willing to accommodate her.

  Meanwhile, Hayley was approached by one of “Julio’s Angels,” the three girls who usually picked up the slack when Julio was fully booked and unavailable. Kathy was a pert, short, lively redhead who guided Hayley over to a free chair where another drop-dead gorgeous South American man with a wide smile waited to greet her.

  “This is Julio’s cousin Juan. He’s just moved to Maine from Mendoza, Argentina, to work with us. He’s in training, so I hope you don’t mind him observing,” Kathy said.

  Hayley gave him the once-over, wondering why every Argentinean man she came in contact with was a bona fide hunk, and said happily, “I’ve always wanted to travel to Mendoza.”

  “It is a beautiful place to see,” Juan said warmly, touching Hayley’s shoulder gently as Kathy left to retrieve a bib for her to wear.

  “I’m sure it is, but I’m more interested in the wine,” Hayley cracked.

  Juan laughed. “Yes, Mendoza is the world’s premier wine capital with the best vineyards!”

  “Well, I’m not sure when I can afford to go, so the next time you visit your family there, be sure to bring plenty of bottles back for me to try,” Hayley said.

  “It would be my pleasure,” Juan said, standing close behind her and locking eyes with her through the giant wall mirror in front of them.

  God, he was handsome.

  His piercing eyes were a deep, earthy brown, almost like dark chocolate, which, Hayley reminded herself, would go great with an Argentinean Malbec. He stared at her so intensely, she finally had to look away.

  “Juan . . .” Julio said.

  Juan ignored him, still smiling at Hayley.

  Julio sighed. “Juan!”

  Juan glanced over at his cousin, annoyed. “Yes?”

  “Have you fixed the lock on the back window yet?”

  “No, I forgot my tool belt at home. I will do it tomorrow.”

  “You said that yesterday and the day before that. Would you please get it done before someone lets themselves in and robs me blind?”

  “I know what I’m doing tonight,” Sheila joked.

  The other ladies laughed.

  “Well, sorry to burst your bubble, Sheila, but I never keep cash here at night and I lock most of the equipment and products in the supply closet, so the only things here to steal are a few teasing combs and a couple of bottles of champagne I serve the customers who are waiting.”

  “I’ll take it!” Sheila shouted.

  More laughs from the customers and staff.

  Julio turned to his cousin. “Juan, I’m running low on curlers. Go and pick some up at the drug store, please.”

  Juan nodded and shot out the door, all the women in the shop staring lustfully at his perfect behind as he left.

  Hayley looked toward the reception desk, where Kathy was on the phone, the bib hanging over her free arm.

  “I’m afraid we charge a twenty-five-dollar fee for cancellations within twenty-four hours of the appointment. . . Okay, I’ll tell Julio,” Kathy said before hanging up and crossing over to the sink where Julio was shampooing Sheila’s hair. “That was Caskie Lemon-Hogg. She can’t make her appointment today. She said she will call tomorrow to reschedule.”

  “That’s fine,” Julio said as he massaged Sheila’s scalp, which caused her to moan slightly with pleasure. “Don’t charge Mrs. Hogg for canceling. She’s a loyal customer and rarely cancels at the last minute. I’m sure it’s for something important.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if she has some salacious tête-à-tête planned with somebody else’s husband!” Sheila announced loud enough for everyone in the salon to hear.

  The whole room fell silent. The only sound came from a whirring hair dryer perched over a sixty-something still rather sexy woman in curlers, who was flipping through a People magazine.

  Hayley sighed, “Mom, please!”

  Sheila threw up her hands as she relaxed in her reclined chair and Julio rinsed the shampoo out of her hair with a sprayer. “Never mind! Pretend I didn’t say a word!”

  The woman under the hair dryer reached up and flipped the switch, shutting it off. Then she tossed her magazine down on the floor and shot up out of her chair. “I’ll have you know, Caskie Lemon-Hogg is my best friend!”

  “Oh, hello, Regina, we missed you at the reunion last night,” Sheila said with a nervous laugh.

  “I had more important things to do! And I do not appreciate you bad-mouthing Caskie when she is not here to defend herself!”

  Sheila sat up as Julio patted her hair with a towel. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t talk about people behind their backs.”

  Hayley was surprised her mother appeared so contrite. The woman who had decided to confront her was Regina Knoxville, a local who had served on the school board and town council at one time, but Hayley did not know a lot about her except t
hat she looked extraordinarily good for her age but was married to a rather plain-looking, dull, colorless husband whose name she could never remember. Hayley had always thought Regina might have married him for his money.

  There was more awkward silence.

  Regina seemed satisfied with Sheila’s apology.

  But then Sheila couldn’t resist adding, “I would be happy to say it to her face the next chance I get!”

  Kathy, who was brushing out Hayley’s frizzy mop of hair, was so startled, she dropped her hairbrush and it clattered to the floor.

  Hayley closed her eyes, wishing she was anywhere else but here.

  Regina marched over to the reception desk and threw three twenty-dollar bills down. “I am not going to stay here and listen to that woman accuse my friend with her bald-faced lies! I’ll come back another time!”

  Regina stormed out of the salon.

  “She’s still wearing our curlers. Should I go after her and get them back since we’re running low?” Kathy asked.

  “No,” Julio said with a grin. “Let her keep them. I’m more interested in knowing if what Sheila said is true.”

  Sheila suddenly demurred. “I really shouldn’t say . . .”

  “Because you don’t know!” Hayley chimed in. “Stop making things up just because you don’t like her!”

  “History is on my side, Hayley,” Sheila argued. “And if Caskie Lemon-Hogg has one thing, it’s a sordid history!”

  Julio and Kathy and the rest of his staff were eager to hear more, but Sheila mercifully decided to take the high road and not speculate anymore, at least while she was getting her hair done, much to Hayley’s relief.

  Chapter 10

  Hayley followed Sheila into the kitchen as she crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a brown bag. “I made you lunch since I knew we wouldn’t have time to eat because of our hair appointments.”

  Hayley took the bag and peered inside it. “Thanks.”

  It was a tuna sandwich on whole wheat and a green apple.

  Pretty boring.