Beauty Shop Tales

by Beth Pattillo

  “Ladies, we’d better get moving if we want to get there and back before suppertime.” He ushered them out through the quarry gate and pulled the chain link shut behind them, sliding the thick metal padlock closed. Kate wondered how he’d gotten the key but supposed he’d used his official connections to get the company’s permission.

  In no time Marshal Wright had them in his car and on their way to Chattanooga. Renee had maneuvered herself into the front seat, while Kate settled for the rear. The first part of the ride passed in near silence until Renee found her voice and began to chatter away, offering her opinions far and wide on every subject from the road conditions on the little state highway to what more could be done for the soldiers overseas. In between, she opined on the gossip mill at Betty’s Beauty Parlor, the overdone chuck steak at the Country Diner, and the cemetery-beautification project of the Ladies Auxiliary.

  The only thing that kept Kate sane was meeting the marshal’s eyes in the rearview mirror and knowing he shared her frustration, and amusement, with Renee’s pontificating.

  Renee’s attention turned for a brief moment to a fussing Kisses, who was accustomed to riding shotgun on a cushion instead of his owner’s lap. Kate took the opportunity to quiz the marshal for more information.

  “Did you get some solid information about Mrs.Baxter’s whereabouts?” She hoped the marshal’s calm manner meant he didn’t suspect Mavis was being held against her will.

  “A clerk at a convenience store identified her from that credit-card transaction I mentioned. My associates did some more investigating in the area and gave me a possible address.”

  “Do you think she’s been in Chattanooga this whole time, all alone?” How frustrating that the older woman had been so near and yet completely lost.

  “We had a report that she’s been seen in the company of a disreputable individual. We don’t know for sure if she’s being held against her will.”

  “Disreputable? What does that mean?” Renee interjected.

  The marshal never took his eyes off the road, but Kate could hear the concern in his voice. “She’s been seen in Chattanooga with a young man in his twenties. He wears a leather jacket and has several piercings and tattoos.”

  Kate’s blood ran cold despite the warmth of her dress coat and the car’s heater. “Leather? Are you sure?”

  The marshal’s gaze met hers again in the rearview mirror. “Why? Does that mean something to you?”

  “A young man of that description was in Copper Mill last year asking questions about Mavis.”

  Renee craned her neck around to shoot a disapproving look at Kate. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Because I didn’t know that you knew the truth about Mavis and her past.”

  “Well, I never saw this character,” Renee snapped. “Are you sure?”

  “LuAnne at the diner and Sam Gorman at the Mercantile both talked to him. He was asking questions about Mavis. And he—” She broke off, not wanting to alarm Renee. As maddening as the woman could be, Kate didn’t want to scare her.

  “He what, Kate?” the marshal asked, his dark eyes fixed on her.

  “He bought a knife from Sam Gorman.”

  For once, even Renee was silenced. Kisses snuffled in his sleep and let out a drowsy growl.

  “So he’s armed.”

  The marshal didn’t look too pleased, at least as far as Kate could tell from what little of his face she could see in the mirror.

  “Ladies, we’ll need to be extra careful. It’s going to be very important today that you do exactly as I say. Are we clear on that?”

  “Of course,” Kate agreed, relieved at last to have someone to share the burden of worry over Mavis Bixby. This support, this taking charge of the problem, was what she’d hoped to get from Sheriff Roberts. “You’re the law officer.”

  Renee gave her assent more begrudgingly. “I suppose. Although I refuse to be left sitting in the car all day, like a child. Or an old person.”

  “We just need to be careful,” the marshal reassured them. “As long as you do what I tell you, you’ll be fine.”

  Kate’s nerves were humming as loudly as the car’s heater. She vaguely noticed the passing scenery—the sharp ridges, sprawling valleys, and thick green vegetation. Suddenly she was stricken with an intense desire to see Paul. She wished now she’d told him where she was going rather than offering a vague answer about shopping when he’d asked about her plans that morning.

  After what seemed hours, Kate finally glimpsed the long ridge of Signal Mountain that circled Chattanooga. She let out a long breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

  “Where do we start?” she asked the marshal in a soft voice. In the passenger seat, Renee had fallen into a light sleep along with Kisses. “Will you check in with the local police?”

  “I talked to them earlier in the week. They’re as much in the dark as anyone, and finding a wayward woman who’s dropped out of the Witness Protection Program isn’t any higher priority for them than it was for Sheriff Roberts.”

  “And the address you have?”

  “It’s an apartment in an older section of town, one of those weekly rentals. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find her on the first try.”

  Kate hoped it would be that easy. Find Mavis and convince her to come back to Copper Mill or return to Chicago under the marshal’s protection.

  The sedan wound through the streets, and Kate caught glimpses of the Tennessee River in the distance as it wove its way through the city. She’d been to Chattanooga several times since moving to Copper Mill, but she’d never seen this seedy part of town where she found herself now.

  When they came to a stop at a traffic light, the marshal leaned over and opened the glove compartment. He withdrew a sheaf of papers and glanced through them. Kate could see the familiar MapQuest logo on the pages. Funny that even a U.S. marshal relied on the popular service for directions. She would have thought federal law enforcement would use GPS trackers or something.

  “Do you want me to navigate while you drive?” Kate asked, unsure how her question would be received. Directions were always a tricky subject with men.

  “That would be great.” He passed the pages over the seat into Kate’s waiting hands.

  Relieved that she hadn’t offended him, Kate coached him through a series of turns until they found themselves in an even more run-down neighborhood. The large older homes must have once been quite a sight with their tall columns and carved balustrades, but now they’d been subdivided into apartments. Peeling paint, sagging porches, and boarded-up windows made the houses look like grand dames who had lost their fortunes.

  “One last right turn,” Kate said to the marshal.

  Renee was still sleeping. Kate hoped she’d keep right on snoring softly until the whole thing was over.

  “There. On your right. The second one.”

  The marshal guided the sedan to the curb and rolled to a stop. The sad old house was indistinguishable from all the others on the block. Kate couldn’t imagine Mavis Bixby moving from her little home in Copper Mill to a damp room or two in this monstrosity. The thought depressed her.

  “Do you want us to wait in the car?” she asked as the marshal reached in the glove compartment again.

  This time he pulled out the pistol they’d found in Mavis’ home. The sight of the gun sent a shiver down Kate’s back. Surely it wouldn’t come to that.

  “For now, yes. Let me take a look around.”

  Kate would much rather have gone with the marshal than sit in the backseat, listening to Renee’s and Kisses’ snores, but she kept her feelings to herself. “Hurry back.”

  The marshal smiled and got out of the car. He stuffed the gun into the back waistband of his pants and flipped his blazer over it for concealment. The movement was as natural, and as casual, as if he’d been putting his wallet in his pocket. Kate sent up a fervent prayer that the next mystery she was called on to solve wouldn’t involve firearms. Or knives, for that
matter.

  The marshal climbed the haphazard steps to the wide porch and let himself in the communal front door. Inside, through the filmy plate glass, Kate could see him checking something on the wall. Probably names on the mailboxes. Then he disappeared from view entirely.

  The seconds stretched to minutes, and those minutes seemed like hours. Fortunately, the street was deserted, although Kate kept a watchful eye in both directions. She checked her watch every thirty seconds and listened to Kisses whine in his sleep. She wondered how long she should wait before going after the marshal. What if something unexpected had happened? What if whoever was with Mavis knew they had arrived?

  Kate had just made up her mind to go after him when he reappeared. And he wasn’t alone. He held a scruffy young man in front of him, the captive’s wrists bound with a long piece of plastic like Kate had seen riot police use on television. Kate’s heart leaped to her throat. As the two men descended the porch steps and moved toward the car, Kate recognized the younger man. He was even wearing the same leather jacket he’d worn in the photograph she’d found online.

  The marshal looked quickly up and down the street and then thrust the young man toward the car. He opened the door to the backseat and motioned for Kate to slide to the far side. She blanched but complied, and then the marshal pushed the young man into the car.

  Kate didn’t know what to do. Her eyes flew from the marshal to his prisoner.

  “Don’t worry, Kate. He’s not going to do anything to hurt you.”

  Now that he was so close, she could see that the young man had a piece of duct tape over his mouth. She looked quickly at the marshal, who half smiled and shrugged, as if to say, “I had to make do with what was available.”

  “Do you want me to call the police?” she asked him. “I have my cell phone with me.”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Mavis wasn’t there?”

  At the mention of the woman’s name, the young man grew wild-eyed and thrashed against his restraints. The marshal reached inside the car and clicked the seat belt around him. “You hurt either of these ladies,” he said, “and I’ll shoot you.”

  Kate jumped in surprise at the marshal’s vicious tone, but then she reminded herself that he must speak like that to criminals all the time. She shouldn’t be upset by his tone. In the front seat, Renee stirred and began to come to life.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded, rubbing her eyes. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

  The marshal reached across the prisoner and offered Kate his gun. She shook her head. “I don’t need it.”

  “Hold it on him. That’ll keep him in line.”

  Despite his piercings and tattoos, the young man looked terrified, and the mother in Kate suddenly felt sorry for him.

  “No, Marshal. We’ll be fine.”

  “Have it your way.” He sounded disgruntled, but then perhaps he had a right to be.

  He slammed the door and slid into the driver’s seat quickly. Kate saw him withdraw something from his jacket, and then he reached over and opened the glove compartment. Sunlight glinted off the metal blade of a knife as the marshal deposited it and slammed the compartment shut. Kate felt a little better, knowing that the young thug sitting beside her had been disarmed.

  In moments they were driving down the street.

  “Who’s this?” demanded Renee, craning her neck to see the young man in the backseat next to Kate. “What’s going on here, Marshal?”

  “This fellow’s been after Mavis Baxter for a while now.”

  “But he doesn’t have her?” Kate cast the young man a wary glance. His eyes implored her for help, but she scooted closer to the door, putting as much space as possible between herself and him. She supposed that criminals were always sorry when they were caught.

  “No sign of her in that rat hole of an apartment.” The marshal turned onto a more traveled street. “But that’s not a problem, because our friend here told me where to find her. Just took a little persuading.”

  Kate noticed the red marks on the young man’s face, and her ears drummed with tension. Of course the marshal had the situation well in hand, but she’d never expected to be riding in the backseat of a U.S. marshals car with a mob associate. All she’d meant to do was make sure Mavis Bixby was safe and sound.

  “We’re not too far from her,” the marshal said, swinging around another corner.

  Kate had a vision of the older woman she’d seen in the picture on the Internet bound and gagged much as the young man beside her. That image erased any sympathy she had for him.

  Kisses climbed up on Renee’s shoulder and growled over the seat at the stranger. Renee had gone uncharacteristically quiet. Kate could only pray that they would reach their destination quickly and that all this would be over very soon.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The second house where the marshal stopped looked even more disreputable than the first. It was smaller, a duplex judging by the twin front doors covered with wrought iron. Loose boards sagged beneath the eaves, and the exterior was so weather beaten, Kate couldn’t tell its original color. Gang graffiti covered the front of the house. Kate shuddered to think of Mavis Bixby living there, whether it was of her own free will or not.

  The young man beside her sank down into the seat. He’d looked listlessly at the passing scenery during their short drive, as if he’d given up the struggle for freedom. Renee chattered nonstop, demanding details from the marshal of the miscreant’s capture.

  “What did he say about Mavis? Did he tell you where to find her? Is that where we’re going?” she demanded. “Was he keeping her against her will?”

  “Let’s just say he had convinced her it wasn’t safe for her to leave. He’s been staying nearby to keep watch over her, but he didn’t want to get too close and lead us to her. And, yes, he was kind enough”—the marshal almost smirked—“to tell me where to find Mavis. He even gave me the key.”

  The marshal put the car into park and turned off the engine.

  “Ladies, now comes the part where I need your help. If I show up alone with this guy in tow, Mavis will be frightened out of her wits. So I want all of us to go into the house together.”

  He turned to Renee. “Mrs.Lambert, you can reassure her.” And then to Kate. “And you can help, too, by telling her why you’ve been looking for her. I think your concern will do her a world of good.”

  Kate nodded. “Of course, Marshal. We’re glad to do our part.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  The marshal got out of the car and came around to pull his prisoner out of the backseat. Kate exited the other way, trying to distance herself from the young man. They formed an uneasy group on the sidewalk. The scruffy young man cast Kate several desperate glances, which she studiously avoided. She was naturally softhearted, but today she needed to steel herself against compassion for Mavis Bixby’s sake.

  The marshal led the odd little group up the sloping steps to the front door. But rather than knock, he fished in his pocket and pulled out a key. The young man let out a whimper and again tried to catch Kate’s eye, but she was having none of it. He’d made his bed tormenting Mavis Bixby; now he’d just have to get under the covers and lie in it.

  The marshal quickly opened the door and then ushered them all inside. Kate blinked as she crossed the threshold, the dim interior revealing little. After a moment her eyes adjusted, and she saw that the tiny living room held nothing more than a card table and two folding chairs. A small television set blared away in the corner, propped on an overturned crate. A bare lightbulb hung from the ceiling. The place looked as much like a prison as Kate could imagine.

  “Call her, Mrs.Lambert,” the marshal said to Renee. “She’s here somewhere.”

  “Mavis? Mavis Bixby?” Renee responded. “It’s Renee Lambert. We’ve come to help you.” Kisses added several yips and yaps to the summons.

  “You too, Kate. Let her know who you are.”

  Kate swallowed, her nerves on edge. Th
e marshal kept one hand on the young man’s upper arm to keep him from bolting.

  “Mrs.Bixby? I mean, Mrs.Baxter? My name is Kate Hanlon. I’m from Copper Mill. We’ve been worried about you and wanted to see how you are. It’s okay. Really. Please come out.”

  Kate heard a creak, and then a door to their right slowly swung open. From behind it, a small figure emerged, barely five feet tall. She was bent from osteoporosis and her hair stood out in clumps all over her head. She was shivering from head to toe.

  “Mrs.Baxter.” Kate rushed forward without thinking. “Are you okay? Thank heavens we found you.”

  The woman’s wild eyes darted from Kate to the men behind her, and then her face went pale as death.

  “Mrs.Baxter? Everything will be all right now, I promise. Look, I’m with a U.S. marshal. He’ll keep you safe. He already captured that man who’s been holding you here.”

  Mavis took one look at the marshal and went even whiter still. Renee moved forward to stand next to Kate. “Mavis? What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “No . . .” Mavis groaned, and she sagged backward. Kate caught her just in time and held her upright.

  “Mrs.Baxter, would you like to sit down?” Kate asked, but the older woman shook her head.

  “What have you done?” she wailed to no one in particular. “What have you done?”

  Kate glanced over her shoulder. The scruffy young man was openly weeping, a sight that startled Kate. And the marshal had a strange sort of half smile on his face.

  “Here. Let me help you to a chair.”

  Mavis moved under the gentle pressure from Kate’s hands, but she kept shaking her head and moaning. Renee looked as troubled by this response as Kate was herself. Kate settled Mavis into a folding chair and knelt beside her.

  “Can you tell me what’s wrong, Mrs.Baxter?”

  Mavis lifted her head from her hands, where she’d buried her face. Strain and sorrow accentuated the deep lines there. “Why did you bring him here?”

  Her eyes flew to the young man, who was straining against the bonds at his wrists. The marshal cuffed him on the ear, and he quieted, but the blow made Kate uncomfortable. She was getting more exposure to the unseemly side of law enforcement than she cared for.