Hair Calamities and Hot Cash.

by Gail Pallotta

  The waiter served our food then Philip leaned closer to me. “Does anyone in town know Mr. Jacobsen keeps money in the freezer?” he whispered.

  I sipped my drink. Apparently, he intended to take no chances, even though we were miles from the inquiring ears of Triville. “He’s so reclusive. I don’t think so.”

  Philip cut off a bite of turkey.

  If he hadn’t taken time to deal with my supplies he might have made more progress solving his problem and he wouldn’t be so stressed. I had to help him, but I didn’t know what to do. “Why don’t we enjoy our dinner and then brainstorm. I’ve never been in this hotel. It’s beautiful.”

  “We’ll have to come back often.”

  He wouldn’t be close enough to return to this hotel. If he lived up to his claim to fly in on the weekends, I could meet him here on Thursday or Friday evenings. Now I was starting to think like him. It was all a big fantasy, but I didn’t want to say anything to upset him anymore than he already was.

  We scraped our plates, and the waiter showed up to take our dessert orders.

  I asked for tiramisu, and Philip did too.

  He looked as though he’d run a marathon and was about to collapse from exhaustion.

  I rubbed my temples as if the action would activate my brain cells, and I’d find an answer. It didn’t, but the repetitive motion made me block out everything around me and concentrate. “It has to be the strangers who took Mr. Jacobsen’s money. No one I know personally would steal. I’m friends with nearly everybody in Triville, or I was before I ruined their hair.”

  “Now that you have decent products they’ll look like movie stars.”

  “Movie stars?” I chuckled.

  The waiter served our treats.

  “Do you think these dudes will come back to the drugstore? Should I hang out there?” Philip scooped up a forkful of dessert.

  I’d wondered the same thing. “It’d be a start.”

  The waiter placed the bill on the table.

  Philip paid then we left and trekked to the car.

  “I’ll be in that drugstore tomorrow if and when these guys return. They’ll not slip by me.” Determination lined Philip’s voice as he backed out.

  “If you see them and they leave, follow them at a safe distance. Don’t confront them or do anything dangerous until we have time to come up with a plan, and I can go with you.”

  Philip grunted.

  I took it as an agreement.

  Philip pulled onto the interstate toward Triville and took off. In no time it seemed he’d gotten off the expressway, turned into my driveway, and parked.“If the thieves are professionals they could copy a motel key card. What if I didn’t put the bolt on the door?”

  “Oh, no. That could explain the theft.” I thought for a moment. “It’s too late to change that now, but I think you’re onto something. See what you can do tomorrow in the drugstore, and I’ll keep my ears open in the shop.” With every bone in my body I wanted to encourage Philip and then nail those criminals.

  He accompanied me to the door, ran his hand from my cheek to my neck and pulled me close. His lips brushed against mine then he kissed me deep and long.

  “I’m exhausted. I have to get some rest, so I’ll be alert tomorrow.” He peered at me with steady eyes. “My future...our future depends on getting back the money soon.”

  How could we have a future?

  I grabbed him around the neck and hugged him tight. “Good luck with your sleuthing.”

  “Thanks, I’ll call. We’ll get together tomorrow night.”

  “We won’t give up until you have the cash back.”

  Philip plodded to the car with his head lowered.

  What did Philip mean by our future? His words played in my head. But first, we had to recover Mr. Jacobsen’s investment.

  19

  Philip drove back to the motel past closed shops and offices illuminated with lamppost lighting. He paid little attention to the hum of the motor cutting into the quiet night. How could he have been so careless? From the instant Mr. Jacobsen handed him those duffle bags he thought only of getting the money to a bank in New York. He never imagined he needed to be careful leaving Triville. The whole look of the town, the way it nestled into the mountains. The neat streets and pristine yards screamed of innocence. Now he knew. There was no such place.

  He parked in front of his room, darted inside, and made a beeline to the shower. His muscles ached from the events of the day. Hoping for rest, he hopped out, put on his pajamas as fast as he could, and fell into bed.

  “Strangers,” Eve had said. Tomorrow he’d find those out-of-towners, follow them like a hound, and spy on them. Then he’d retrieve that money. If he slept well he’d be alert for the task.

  He tossed and turned, threw back the covers, and sat on the edge of the bed. The outside light streamed through a crack where the thick-backed curtains failed to meet and shone on a newspaper in front of his door. Someone must have delivered it while he was in the bathroom. He got up, brought it to the bed, and switched on the lamp. Reading it, his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

  ~*~

  A buzz pierced Philip’s ears. Sitting straight up, he grabbed the alarm clock. He’d intended to set it for seven and arrive at the drugstore at seven-thirty. It was eight now.

  He bounded off the bed, brushed his teeth, and tugged on a pair of jeans. Standing beside the cubby-hole closet, he snatched a blue shirt, threw it on, and buttoned it on the way outside. He drove to the drugstore entrance as fast as the old car would take him and parked.

  Inside the store, a country music song played softly from hidden speakers.

  Mandy stood. “Good morning can I help you?”

  “No, thank you.” Philip dashed past the bottles, boxes, and rolled-up blankets lining the shelves near the front.

  “What are you looking for?”

  If he entered a drugstore in New York someone might say hello. After that, they’d mind their own business. He had intended to wander around the premises all day. The townspeople’s penchant for knowing everything about everyone had slipped his mind. He glanced back at Mandy. “Razors. I need razors.”

  “They’re on aisle seven.” Mandy plopped down on her stool.

  Philip wandered to the section for men’s toiletries, picked up a package of shavers, and carried them to check-out.

  Mandy rang up his purchase. “I see you found them.” A cheerful lilt filled her voice.

  “Yes.”

  She stuffed the items into a bag and handed it to him. “Thanks for shopping at Smitty’s.”

  His left eye twitched as he trudged out and plopped down in the car. He couldn’t leave now.

  A vehicle pulled up beside him, and his heartbeat accelerated. Strangers? He glanced out the window. Two women emerged from a red sedan and chattered to each other as they hurried to the entrance. A young couple pushed a stroller behind them, and an old man bumped along on a walker. Philip sprang out and opened the door for the elderly gentleman then returned to his stakeout.

  A boring parade of shoppers passed until a man in a lightweight brown jacket appeared at noon, a hat over his head and his collar turned up covering part of his face. Philip eased out of the car and passed through the doorway on the man’s heels.

  “Hello, Graham.” Mandy stood and smiled.

  The man tipped his hat.

  He clearly wasn’t one of the strangers. Back to the car.

  “Why hello, again.” Mandy’s cheerful voice rang out.

  Too late. “Hi.” Philip had to think fast. “How’s it goin’? I need a bite of lunch.”

  Mandy waved her small hand toward the soda fountain. “We serve great grilled cheese sandwiches.”

  Philip proceeded to the eatery and found a booth facing the entrance. This site made a better stake-out than the car. Mandy’s reaction to whoever came inside would indicate whether or not that person lived in Triville. He was getting the hang of small town America.

 
The waitress came over. “Hi, I’m Teresa. What can I get for you?”

  “Ah, could I start with a glass of sweet tea?”

  “Sure, hon. Whatever you want.” She left and returned quickly with his drink. “What else would you like?”

  “If you don’t mind, check back in a little while.” Philip grabbed a menu from behind a vase of artificial roses and pretended to study it. This set-up put him right in the middle of the action, and finally he was inconspicuous. He glanced at the seven entrees on the bill of fare then focused on the front door.

  Mandy greeted patron after patron. Philip’s confidence in his stakeout fell, but he persisted. He turned up his glass—empty.

  Teresa hurried over with the tea pitcher. “Here ya’ go, sir. Are you ready to order?”

  “Yes please, I’ll have a grilled cheese sandwich, French fries, and a side salad with ranch dressing.”

  Teresa wrote on her pad.

  She has no idea what I’m up to. Finally, he’d hidden something from someone in Triville. His pride in his snooping ability heightened. He’d watched the entrance like a trained professional. Nothing had escaped him and nothing would.

  “I believe you ‘bout waited too long to order. Sounds like you worked up an appetite sitting in the booth.”

  “I can eat.”

  “Comin’ right up.” She called out his request to thin air, but someone had to be in the kitchen.

  Teresa returned and set down his food. “There ya’ go. Hope ya’ enjoy it.”

  Philip’s mouth watered, but he couldn’t gulp down the meal. He had to bide his time and not miss a single person coming in the doorway. Having the hours tick away without seeing the strangers set his nerves on edge. One by one the diners at the soda fountain and in the booths left. Only he remained, his hard detective work unrewarded. He slumped in his seat.

  Teresa appeared and filled his glass as a man with blond hair entered. He straightened. “Who’s that?”

  Teresa shifted her gaze. “Jerry Wilburn. He’s probably here to get his wife’s arthritis medicine. It’s a shame. She’s housebound now.” Compassion filled her hazel eyes.

  Philip’s optimism deflated. He felt sorry for a woman he’d never seen. Had the caring attitude of Triville’s residents rubbed off on him? “That’s sad.”

  “Yeah, it is. Do ya’ want dessert?”

  “Yes, please. I’ll have an apple cobbler with vanilla ice cream and coffee.”

  “Sure thing.” Teresa left and returned with the sweet treat. “Are ya’ just a slow eater, or ain’t ya’ got nothin’ to do?”

  “I’m sorry. Am I keeping you late?”

  “Not really. There’s nothin’ waitin’ for me but one no account husband and his no account hound dog.”

  “Come on, now. Did you grow up here?”

  “Yep. I’m teasin.’ I graduated from Triville High School and married Ray Bounts, a football star. We won all our games when he was the quarterback.”

  “Sounds like a great guy.”

  Teresa grinned. “He is. He woulda’ gone to college on a scholarship, but he got hurt his senior year.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s OK. Everyone still calls him Bullet Bounts. He loves it. He’s a sweet man, and we’re happy. Life ain’t worth livin’ if you ain’t happy, and you won’t be happy unless you love the spirit.”

  “You’re a smart woman enjoying success others only dream about.” That seemed to be the case with most of the folks in Triville. He yearned to enjoy the peace he’d found here permanently and acquire the same quiet acceptance of others they seemed to have. If only he could get back the money, he could make plans.

  A wide grin spread across Teresa’s face as she laid down a bill. “I’ll leave this, but I’m here until four o’clock if you need anything else.”

  Philip ate his cobbler and placed his payment, plus a generous tip for Teresa, on the table.

  Two strangers stood at the counter handing a pack of cigarettes to Mandy.

  Philip rose from his seat, knocked over a plate, and righted it while keeping his gaze on them as they exited. He made tracks toward the door and held his hand up at the register. “I don’t need a thing. Stay put.”

  Mandy waved. “Have a great day.”

  He breezed through the doorway, darted into the car, and frantically looked for the pickup. A white blur passed by him. He pulled out and ended up behind a tour bus in a no-passing zone unable to see anything except the rear of the large vehicle. His heart beat like a jackhammer until he could pass. He accelerated and zoomed up the road. There were no white trucks in sight. The men were just here. Where did they go? How could they have gotten away so quickly?

  His stomach knotted as he drove to the motel. He parked, entered his unit, and put on the bolt. Either Triville wasn’t the sleepy little town it seemed or somebody up to no good infiltrated this mountain paradise. He checked e-mail, praying his boss hadn’t discovered the theft yet. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Philip breathed a sigh of relief.

  Eve may have heard something about strangers in town from one of her customers. He splashed on fresh cologne and headed over there. Hope for answers pulsed through his veins all the way to Eve’s Clips. He entered with anticipation filling him. “Hi.” He waited patiently as she turned from blow-drying a lady’s blonde hair.

  “Hello. I have a message for you. Lloyd’s repaired the rent-a-car, but he’s gone out of town, so you can pick it up Monday.”

  “Is that all?” Her words dampened his spirits, but she might tell him more later. “OK, thanks. How about dinner?”

  “Sure, Philip. I’d like that.”

  He sat down underneath a hair dryer and tapped his foot while Eve finished her customer’s hair. If only the two of them could find these guys.

  The client left and Eve asked, “Any leads?”

  “Yes, I saw them, but they escaped.” Heat crawled up his neck.

  “We’re getting close. I’ll go change really quick.”

  Before Philip knew it, Eve reappeared looking stunning in a black and white dress, He guided her to the old car, and they breezed over the level streets in town.

  “Did you find out anything in the shop?” He thumped his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “I’m sorry. Not today, but we’re on the right track. We’ll probably see those strangers or hear something about them tonight. Obviously, they’re hanging out in Triville.”

  His time was running out. “Yeah. I thought one of your customers would know who they are and mention them.”

  Eve patted his arm. “It will work out.”

  He started up the hill, the car’s stops and starts now commonplace. Finally, he reached the parking lot and cut the engine. They hurried inside, where the smell of chili cheeseburgers wafted in the front of the room. They took the first booth, and Eve leaned forward. “This is perfect. From here we can check out everybody.”

  “I have a crick in my neck from my day at the drugstore, but I’m an expert at scrutinizing people entering establishments.”

  “Take a break. I have the entrance covered.”

  Bonnie Sue sashayed over. “How’s it goin’? I haven’t seen you since pot roast night.” She winked at Philip then popped her gum.

  “We’re fine.” Philip made a point of saying “we,” and hoped Eve caught it. There was no one for him but Eve.

  Bonnie Sue gave him her flirty grin. “What ya’ going to have?”

  “A chili cheeseburger.”

  “Eve?” Bonnie Sue glanced at her.

  “I’ll take the same.”

  Bonnie Sue left, and Eve stood. “I’ll wander to the bathroom and see who else is here.” She headed toward the back, disappeared into the crowd then returned and scooted in the booth. “No strangers yet,” she whispered.

  Bonnie Sue set down two steaming plates. “Enjoy,” she said. Then she waved at the Saturday night patrons jamming in. “Hi ya’ll. It won’t be long till some seats come open.”

&
nbsp; Eve touched Philip’s leg with her foot under the table and nodded her head toward the door.

  He pivoted slightly then glanced at two men approaching the take out counter. His heartbeat pounded in his temples. He wiped his mouth, casually laid down his napkin, and then sprang from his seat. Eve stood as he snatched up the bill and followed as he forged to the cash register. The instant the cashier handed him change, he guided Eve out the door, past the people in the parking lot, and into the passenger’s side of the old car.

  He slipped into the driver’s seat as Eve fidgeted with her purse.

  “Don’t we look odd sitting outside in the car?” she asked.

  “We wouldn’t be noticed in New York, but here, you could be right.”

  Philip sprang out and raised the hood, all the while keeping his gaze on the door to the diner.

  Footsteps fell behind him.

  He jumped.

  “What’s wrong, son? Having trouble? I know a little about cars. Want me to take a look?” Reverend Binder asked.

  Philip’s nerves raced. He had to drive out of here the instant he saw those strangers. He should’ve known in Triville someone would stop to help.

  “Thanks, I think we’re OK.” Philip jiggled the first wire he saw under the hood.

  Reverend Binder patted Philip on the back. “Hop in there and see if it starts.”

  Philip tried to look around the minister to the door, but couldn’t get a clear view. Heaviness fell on his chest. What if the strangers had exited the restaurant? “Thanks.” He plopped down in the driver’s seat, left the door open, and kept his gaze on the entrance to Bob’s Diner as best he could. His hand trembled as he turned the key. The car hummed.

  Reverend Binder gave him a thumbs’ up. “Call my cell phone if you have any trouble. Eve knows the number. You kids have fun.” He moseyed off.

  Philip stared at the diner. The two out-of-towners traipsed out the door and nearly knocked down Reverend Binder as he started inside. The hair on Philip’s arms stood on end as he waited for the thieves to reach their vehicle and leave.

  20

  Soft spotlights lighting up the parking lot at Bob’s Diner lent a tranquil glow to the trees and foliage next to the white truck. The strangers climbed into it and pulled out of their parking space as a parade of vehicles drove through the entrance. An old sedan, a van, and an SUV blocked Philip’s view of the thieves. He clenched the steering wheel and gritted his teeth. He couldn’t lose them again. Finally, the incoming traffic settled, and he backed out. “Watch for the pick-up.”