Books, Barbecue and Murder

by Lori Woods

  “Okay,” Logan held up a hand. “We get it. We’re sorry, we didn’t know.”

  “He’s a hero,” she sneered. “Can you say the same?”

  “All right,” Logan shook his head, “I’m sorry.”

  “You should be,” Karen snapped. “Besides, if you want a suspect so badly, you could’ve asked me. Salome’s been shooting her mouth off all morning. If anyone’s looking suspicious right now, it’s her.”

  “Who’s Salome?” Clary asked curiously, glad that the subject had changed from her tackling a veteran.

  “She does my hair,” Marie explained, “she has another salon.”

  “How dare you?” Karen seethed, turning red. “There’s a salon right across the street! How could you go to the enemy?”

  “There’s no salon there anymore,” Marie said with a deadpan expression.

  “Whatever,” Karen shook her head, and Clary worried that they were alienating Erica’s assistant.

  “What’s she been saying?” Clary asked quickly, glaring at Marie.

  “Look, you guys should just go and talk to her. You’ll see what I mean.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Clary said, giving her a small smile. “Thank you for helping us.”

  “I’ll stay here and keep the business open,” Marie said, examining her nails.

  “Don’t worry, I can handle things,” Karen said frostily. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”

  “How sad,” Marie shrugged as she turned back to the shop.

  “Don’t worry,” Clary said soothingly, “we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “Hey, do you know anyone we can pay to clean all this up?” Logan asked, gesturing to the street.

  “Actually,” Karen said with a proud smile, “I do.”

  Chapter 4

  “And I told her, ‘don’t mess with me, cow!’ and look what happened. This is what happens when you mess with me,” the loud woman in colorful clothing said to a rapt audience. She clicked her fingers a few times, and a friend clapped proudly. “If you’re going to mess with me, you’re going to face the consequences!”

  “You bet,” a middle-aged woman with curlers in her hair said knowingly. “If you mess with fire, you’re going to get burned. There’s no doubt about it. Erica’s always playing with fire, it’s no wonder that this happened to her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m happy it happened, I’m just saying that you reap what you sow.”

  “I’m happy!” the loud woman said gleefully. “This is payback. Oh, hi, honey, is your boyfriend here to make sure I don’t mess up that pretty face? Or is he just here to pay?” she asked Clary as she walked in.

  “Oh,” she said, blushing bright red, “he’s not…”

  “I’m just here to pay,” Logan sighed sadly. “You know how it goes. We guys are just bankrolling this whole operation.”

  “Good boy,” the woman said proudly, winking at him. “How did you find this one, hon? It’s tough finding a guy who knows his place.”

  “She trained me well,” Logan said with a smirk. “We’ve got a special date tonight, and I thought it was time for a change, you know? I want my special girl to look special tonight.” He winked at the woman and she gave him an approving nod.

  “Good, good, is tonight the night?” she asked, wiggling her eyebrows, and pointing to her ring finger.

  “It might be,” he said, winking down at Clary who was glaring at him with steam pouring out of her ears.

  “I’ve got this,” the woman said, pushing Clary down onto a salon chair. “Don’t worry, honey, just let Salome take care of this.”

  “Great,” Logan said with a grin. “We’re going to need a total makeover. This look just isn’t working for her anymore.”

  “Excuse me?” Clary asked dangerously, glaring at him in the mirror.

  “I just tell it like it is, babe,” he shrugged, and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. “I’ll go gossip with the ladies.” He sauntered off to where the other women were watching him appreciatively. A retiree nearly swooned when he smiled at her.

  “Wow, honey,” Salome said, nodding approvingly. “Where did you get one like that? And more importantly, where can I get one of those?”

  “Oh, you know,” Clary shrugged awkwardly.

  “Okay,” Salome said, switching tones, “we need to get you ready for your big night. We’re going to put in some highlights, then we’ll work on those nails, and I’m thinking a nice smoky eye with some false lashes, what do you think?”

  “That’s… so much…” Clary stuttered as Salome began running her hands through Clary’s hair.

  “Nonsense,” Salome chided. “This is a big night! And if he’s paying, he should get his money’s worth. Trust me, after marriage, this sort of thing just doesn’t happen anymore. It’s so sad.”

  “Right,” Clary said slowly, “our big night. You know, it nearly didn’t happen.”

  “What?” Salome gasped. “Why? Did he get cold feet?”

  “No,” Clary said, falling perfectly into her new role. “After what happened this morning, we just didn’t feel much like celebrating anything, let alone our love. It just didn’t seem right, you know?”

  “Are you talking about the fire?” Salome asked with a snort.

  “Yeah,” Clary nodded, and Salome grabbed her face and shook her head.

  “Don’t move your head. I need to work.” Clary smiled meekly and shot Logan a dirty look when she noticed him laughing at her. “Oh, honey, I wouldn’t worry about that fiasco. It’s been a long time coming, if you ask me. The way she’s been running that place.”

  “It wasn’t an accident,” Clary said, watching Salome’s face in the mirror. “The police say it was arson. And there was a murder too.”

  “I know,” Salome shook her head. “It was probably some loan shark that she owed. She’s been heading toward disaster for years now.”

  “I see there’s no love lost between you two.”

  “Honey, Erica’s been testing me for months now. I told her to leave me and my business alone, but she wouldn’t listen. And now she’s got what she deserves. What really gets on my nerves is that she probably burned the place down for the insurance money and she’s probably going to get a nice big payout. It just makes me so angry, you know?”

  “How has she been testing you?” Clary asked curiously.

  “The woman’s been blaming me for her financial troubles. She says that my salon is the reason she’s going under. As if. Her clients came to me when I was working from home, because she has no talent. She does things the way she’s always done them, and people are tired of it. Not only that, but I do things properly. You know, some clients told me that she lets them walk out with damp hair? Have you ever heard such nonsense?”

  “No, never.”

  “She’s been trying to poach my clients for months. I told her to stop and just take care of the clients she already had. But did she listen to me? No. And now look. Look, I’m a nice woman, I try and do right by others. But if you cross me, bad things happen.”

  “I guess you didn’t have to wait long for your revenge,” Clary said, trying not to wince as she started lathering her hair with color.

  “I never do,” Salome said gleefully. “Life favors good people. We don’t have to suffer too long until those who wrong us get their desserts.”

  Two hours later, Clary stood in the parking lot with a new hairstyle and her face full of makeup.

  “You look so great,” Logan said, trying to bite back his laugh.

  “I hate you so much,” she seethed.

  “Why? Isn’t this the cutest scene in any romantic comedy?” he asked, taking a quick picture with his phone.

  “Delete it! And take me home, I want to wash all this off. It’s way too much for a murder investigation. And what was wrong with my look? I liked the way I looked!”

  “Me too,” Logan shrugged, knocking the wind out of her sails. “We needed an excuse, and that was the first thing I could thin
k of.”

  “Great, why not just throw me under the bus?” she grumbled while he tapped on his phone. “That’s great. You know what? Next time, you get to sit in the chair, and I’ll drink coffee with the other customers. Seriously, were you trying to see how many old ladies you could get to fall in love with you?”

  “Clary,” he said slowly, looking up at her in shock.

  “What? It’s not my fault you’re such a brown-noser.”

  “No, look,” he showed her the message on his phone. “I just got this email.”

  “Salome’s burning up with glee,” Clary read out loud, “she waited so long for revenge. Or maybe she got tired of waiting and took matters into her own hands. Or should I say car? It’s more accurate.”

  “The Secret Keeper,” Logan finished, looking troubled. “How did they get my email address? This isn’t my business email, it’s a personal account.”

  “We need to catch them,” Clary decided.

  “We’ve been trying, remember?”

  “You know what? They’re not getting away with this. Not this time,” Clary decided. “We’ll follow their clues for now, but they’re getting cocky. That flyer stunt was arrogant, they’re going to mess up, just watch. And when they do, we’ll be waiting.”

  “Okay,” Logan nodded. “So what are we going to do about this?” He took his phone back with a determined expression and started typing something.

  “They mentioned Salome’s car. Maybe there’s a clue in there. I think we should check and see if there’s anything in her car.”

  “How are we going to get in?” Logan asked, gesturing to the fancy SUV parked in the owner’s parking spot.

  “I have a plan,” Clary said, smiling deviously.

  A few minutes later, Logan walked back into the salon with a shy smile on his face.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Salome asked, looking up at him. He spotted her car keys lying in her handbag behind the cash register.

  “I’m nervous,” he admitted, dropping down into the office chair behind the register. “I just don’t know how I’m going to ask her, you know?”

  “Oh, honey,” Salome gushed, looking up from her client. “That’s so sweet. You really love her, don’t you?” As Salome looked down at her client, Logan quickly pressed the car remote, unlocking the car. As soon as the lights flashed, Clary opened the door, bracing herself for an alarm. Thankfully, nothing gave her away. She looked around frantically, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. The car was spotless. It even had that new car smell.

  She huffed and shook her head and got out to open the hatchback. Nothing. She looked back at the salon and noticed that Logan was still talking to Salome. Clary looked back down and was about to close the hatchback when she noticed that the carpet was lifting slightly in the corner. Another glance at the salon told her that Salome was still preoccupied, so she quickly lifted the carpet. There was an empty space where a spare wheel would’ve fit nicely.

  For some reason, Salome wasn’t keeping a spare tire in her hatchback. Instead, there was a black duffel bag nestled in the compartment.

  “What are you doing?” a shrill voice asked. Clary spun around to see a housewife glaring at her with her hand on her hip and her other hand holding onto a stroller. “I know that’s not your car.”

  “Oh,” Clary laughed awkwardly. “Salome asked me to get a straightener out of her car. You know how busy she is.” The housewife glared at her and Clary smiled innocently. “You can go and ask her if you want. I mean, she was just going to finish up my hair when her straightener burned out.” Clary flipped her hair casually.

  “Oh, poor thing,” the housewife said sympathetically. “How terrible. Don’t worry, it doesn’t look that bad.” The housewife smiled comfortingly and walked away, pushing the stroller in front of her.

  “That bad?” Clary muttered to herself, a renewed urgency spurring her on. “I’m going to kill Logan.” She quickly unzipped the duffel bag and gasped when she saw what was inside. She fumbled for her phone then snapped a few pictures. It only took her a few seconds to rearrange everything back into its place.

  When she was done, she walked past the salon and gave Logan a thumbs-up.

  Unfortunately for him, Salome was on a roll and was chatting enigmatically. It took about half an hour for him to say goodbye and another hour to actually leave the salon. By the time he finally got out of the salon, his eyes were dull and glossy.

  “That was a nightmare,” he admitted as he got into the car.

  “Well, I nearly got all this make-up off,” Clary said, gesturing toward the pile of tissues at her feet.

  “Please tell me you found something,” he begged, leaning back and closing his eyes tiredly.

  “It was all worth it,” Clary said excitedly, “the make-up, the hair, the hour and a half in the salon.”

  “You’re kidding?” he said. “Tell me everything. Now.”

  “Well, you heard most of the conversation, and that was enough to make me suspicious, but check this out,” she handed him her phone. “I found this hidden in her car.”

  Logan whistled and raised his eyebrows.

  “That’s some serious equipment.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Clary said, nodding. “Come on, we need to show this to Sanchez.”

  Chapter 5

  “I’m innocent!” Salome shouted as Sanchez closed the door of the interrogation room. “I didn’t do anything!”

  “Well done,” Erica said, sitting down by Clary and Logan.

  “Thanks,” Logan said proudly, puffing out his chest, but Clary just shook her head. She knew that tone. Erica wasn’t complimenting them. It was a lovely, kind tone with the hint of something sharp in her words. Erica grinned wolfishly and Clary rolled her eyes.

  “Yeah,” Erica said innocently. “I totally mean it. I mean, it took you three hours to find a new suspect, and when you do, you bring in Sanchez’s own daughter. Thanks for that. I really feel super safe with you two on the job.”

  “We didn’t know that,” Clary sighed.

  “You make it hard for anyone to like you,” Logan muttered, slouching in his chair.

  “Besides,” Clary said optimistically. “Sanchez has always been fair. He won’t treat her any differently just because she’s his daughter. He takes his job very seriously. I’m not worried. If she’s guilty, he’ll do what needs to be done.”

  “Keep believing that,” Erica scoffed. “You want to know why it’s so hard to like me? It’s because I don’t buy into that whole fairy world thing the two of you’ve got going on. The world is unfair, and you’ve got to take care of yourself. That’s the only way you’ll survive.”

  “How charming,” Logan intoned, taking out his phone and typing away.

  “I’m not being unrealistic,” Clary said stubbornly. “I know Sanchez, he won’t be unfair.”

  “You know Sanchez, do you?” Erica mocked. “Better than his daughter? I know her, and if she’s related to him, then there’s no way that I trust that man. He’ll look out for her before he does his job. I’m in so much trouble, and I can’t even rely on you to use your head.”

  “I followed a clue,” Clary said vehemently, “and it led me to her. I brought her in, and I did the right thing. That’s all that I need to do.”

  “Just do the right thing,” Erica mimicked in a high-pitched tone. “Grow up. What’s wrong with you? I guess I’m on my own. Again. What a surprise.”

  “Yes,” Clary snapped, “you are. And that’s no one’s fault but your own. I’m trying to help, and guess what? You shoot me down, you make fun of me. You’re horrible, and it’s no wonder why no one wants to be around you for too long. I thought Salome was being overdramatic, but obviously not.”

  “Wow, thanks,” Erica said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

  “You’re welcome,” Clary quipped, folding her arms and staring at the ceiling.

  After a few minutes of painfully awkward silence, Erica spoke again.
/>   “What did she say about me?”

  “She said you were stealing her clients and that you deserved what you got. I’ve got to say that it’s hard not to agree with her.”

  “Without hearing my side of the story? Figures,” Erica muttered to herself, shaking her head angrily.

  “Okay then,” Clary said resolutely, turning to Erica and folding her arms. “Tell me your side of the story.”

  “Why? It won’t matter anyway. You’ve made up your mind about me and nothing I say is going to change that. So why bother?”

  “Oh, stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” Clary snapped. “Poor you. Well, guess what? Life sucks. It’s hard. And sometimes we feel very alone and there’s not much we can do about that. You can choose to be a whiny baby about that and feel sorry for yourself. Or you can take the hand offered to you and accept the help. Do you think I like sitting here getting insulted? No. I don’t like you. You don’t like me. Big deal. But you don’t have too many options right now. So, tell me your side of the story, or I’ll have to take Salome’s.”

  Erica scoffed and rolled her eyes again, but Clary didn’t respond to that. Instead, she shrugged and took out her phone. She had a game that she could play when she was waiting around in lines or was at the bank. She’d downloaded it after she spent several hours in a police station waiting for Sanchez to finish interrogating a suspect.

  “I opened my salon ten years ago,” Erica started softly, but she didn’t stop. “I kept up with all the latest trends and fashions. Eventually I got my teaching certificate and Salome was my first student. She did very well, and I asked if she’d like to join my salon. That way we could expand and have our own clients. I’d focus on the teaching, and she could focus on the everyday stuff. She agreed, and we started planning. I let her practice on some of my students.”

  “What happened?” Clary asked when Erica stopped talking. She put her phone down and gave the other woman her full attention.

  “I trusted her enough to take over most of my clients for me while I was away training students in different towns. It was just supposed to be temporary. But she started stealing them away from me, and when she graduated, she left and started her own salon. She used me to get clients and then left. I had to stop teaching so that I could find clients and support the salon again, but the salon was never the same again. She spread horrible rumors about me to everyone, and every new client.”