Dixieland Dead

by Penny Burwell Ewing

  My forehead furrowed as I pictured my own hands unbuttoning his shirt. My toes tingled with the cosmic sparks flying around the room. “Turn it off,” I mouthed a second time, glaring fiercely at her.

  “Jolene, did you say something?”

  I jerked back to face Bradford. Deena also looked amused. “No, nothing… What were you saying?” I improvised.

  He sighed heavily. “I’m afraid I have bad news. A witness has come forward swearing she overheard Deena confess that she wished she’d killed Scarlett when she’d had the chance. I’m here to take her downtown for further questioning.”

  “Deena wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Billie Jo said from the open doorway.

  My gut bottomed out at the thought. “That’s insane.” I jumped up from the sofa, bristling with indignation. Which staff member or client had overheard and mistakenly come to the wrong conclusion? “Surely you can’t believe Deena was serious. Frustrated, yes, but we all were put out with Scarlett.”

  He opened the file setting on the desk. “You took her seriously. According to the report, you said, and I quote, ‘Holy cow, Deena. Don’t let anyone hear you say that.’”

  Out of my peripheral vision, I glimpsed Scarlett float over to sit in the middle of the desk. “I knew she was capable of murder, but I didn’t figure the victim would be me.” She blew icy air into my sister’s face, causing her to shiver and pull away in confusion.

  “Get away from her,” I said. “Deena didn’t kill—”

  Hand raised, Bradford shook his head. “No one is accusing Deena of murder. I would appreciate it if you would sit down and control your emotions.”

  Deena placed a hand on his arm. “Jolene’s a tiger when it comes to her little sisters. She’s like an angel watching over us. But, I promise, we’ll fully cooperate with the investigation.”

  Billie Jo handed him the glass of Mountain Dew and plopped down on the opposite chair. I wasn’t even sure she heard him when he thanked her.

  He took a long sip of the soft drink. “I know this situation is hard on your family, but I have a job to do, personal feelings aside.” He set the glass down on the desk and reached out and caught Deena’s hand in his. “I believe you’re still the same sweet girl I knew in high school. But I must investigate every lead even if it implicates you, understand?”

  She nodded her head decidedly. “I’m ready to leave when you are.”

  “Wait. What about Frank Moody?” The words punched out of my mouth. “He was stalking Scarlett according to Robert Burns. He wanted to divorce Carla and marry Scarlett, but Scarlett didn’t want to marry him. Frank also told him that he was gonna ask Carla for a divorce on Wednesday night. I hate to believe she might be capable of murder, but revenge is a powerful motive.”

  Bradford’s eyes were sharp and assessing as they settled on me. “My point exactly. Adultery hits hard and takes no hostages. Revenge is a powerful motive. It’s the central thought floating around at the station about Deena. She’s a person of interest along with the Moody couple.”

  “Does Deena need a lawyer?” I asked, uncertain how this was going to play out. What if Deena was arrested for Scarlett’s murder? She wouldn’t be the first innocent person jailed for a crime she didn’t commit. The niggling guilt of my own inadequacy washed over me.

  “It’s her right to have a lawyer present if she wishes one.”

  Deena flung out a hand. “I’ll be fine. I trust Sam, and this shouldn’t take too long. And please don’t call Mama. She’ll worry.” She shot me a look that said I’d regret it if I did.

  It’s a good thing she couldn’t read my mind, because those were my intentions as soon as the door closed behind her. With the finger of suspicion pointed directly at my sister, the time for extreme action had arrived. And I knew just who to call to get the pot boiling.

  Chapter Eleven

  A Meeting of the Minds

  The door had no sooner slammed shut when a worried look creased Billie Jo’s face. “Now what do we do?”

  I shot to my feet and dashed over to the desk. “Call Mama, what else?” I punched in her number and waited for her to pick up.

  “But Deena told you not to,” she cautioned. “She’s upset enough without Mama showing up at the police station.”

  Mama picked up on the fourth ring. “Hello.”

  “Mama, listen to me without interrupting, okay?” I continued talking over her reply. “Something important has come up, and I need for you to get me a copy of Scarlett’s preliminary autopsy report. Detective Bradford was just here, and he took Deena in for further questioning.”

  “We’ve got to do something!” Her voice cracked over the line.

  “I know Mama—I know that. Keep your panties on.”

  “Just how am I supposed to get a copy of Scarlett’s autopsy report? This isn’t some TV show, you know.”

  “Yes, I know that. I’m going to tell you how to get it if you’ll let me talk. Call Diane Downey and explain to her that we need a copy of the report.” I held the receiver away from my ear as she blasted her response on the other end.

  “Good Lord Almighty, Jolene. Diane’s gonna think I’ve lost my mind!”

  “Kayla Winston adores Diane, and you know it,” I replied as calmly as I could. “She’ll jump at a chance to impress the Queen Bee.”

  “That’s illegal,” Mama pointed out.

  “Yes, I know, but a witness overheard Deena telling me she wished she’d killed Scarlett when she had a chance to get away with it.”

  “I see what you mean. It shouldn’t be too hard for Kayla to get her hands on that report. She’s mentioned several times that her husband has a home office. Maybe his home computer links up with the one down at the coroner’s office.”

  “Call me when you know something, okay?”

  I hung up the phone, sat down heavily in Deena’s chair, and crossed my fingers for good luck. “Now all we have to do is find out a way to obtain a copy of the police investigative report. Deena’s not a reliable spy.”

  Billie Jo’s face reflected skepticism. “You’ve crossed over to the dark side. First, you finagled church ladies into stealing from the coroner’s office, and now you’re suggesting we steal from the cops? One trip downtown was enough for me.”

  “I’m not suggesting we physically steal from the cops. Maybe something more along the lines of computer hacking.”

  “Equally undoable. What are we looking for?”

  “The composition of the mask and their list of suspects. We need to find any information that will point us in the right direction in our own investigation.”

  Billie Jo smacked her hand on her forehead. “I forgot about the jars in the facial room. Why don’t we have them analyzed? Then we’ll know exactly what’s inside them, and we can forget about getting arrested for computer hacking.”

  I beamed at her. “That’s a brilliant idea. Now all we have to do is pray Mama works her magic with Diane.”

  “I’ve got a friend who owes me a big favor, and he just happens to be a lab technician for the coroner. I’ll give him a call and see if he can help us. If he agrees, I’ll run the samples over to him,” she said, then left the office.

  After the door shut, I joined Scarlett at the window hoping for a chance to talk to her now that we were alone. Waves of sorrow and frustration radiated from her. I wanted to both console and scold her for the continued bad pranks. My hand passed through her satin encased shoulder so I let it fall to my side. “I thought you’d be happy with the progress we’re making on your case.”

  She turned haunted eyes on me. “That police detective said Deena murdered me for revenge. I guess you feel I had it coming, don’t you?”

  “Bradford never said Deena murdered you. Be reasonable.”

  “One act of revenge deserves another.” Then she glanced out the window and vanished from sight.

  Oh, good grief. Now I had an angry, vengeful ghost on my hands on top of a murder investigation. There were some days I wished I’d sta
yed home in bed.

  ****

  Precisely three hours later, I looked up from my client’s hair to see Bradford’s unmarked police car pull up at the front curb. Deena climbed out, waved at him, and waltzed through the door with a huge smile on her face, and a half-eaten ice cream cone in her hand. Without so much as a how-do-you-do, she disappeared into her office, shutting the door before I had a chance to motion her over to my station. Her wide smile made me believe she’d gone on a date instead of to the police station for questioning. Removing the cape from my client, I followed her up to the reception desk and waited as she paid her bill.

  “Your next client cancelled,” Holly said. “She rescheduled for Tuesday.”

  “How much time do I have before my next appointment?”

  She brought up my appointment book on the computer. “About thirty minutes. I could call her and see if she can come in earlier.”

  I shook my head, anxious to talk with Deena. “No thanks, I need a break. I’ll be in Deena’s office if anyone’s looking for me. And tell Billie Jo to join us when she’s finished with her haircut if she has time.”

  The office door was closed, so I knocked once and opened the door. Deena looked up at my entrance and promptly ended her phone call—but not before I heard her tell the caller she’d see him later. Probably Bradford, I reasoned by the happy look on her face.

  “I won’t ask who was on the phone,” I said. “That Grand Canyon smile you’re wearing speaks for itself. Now, tell me what happened at the police station.”

  She finished the last bite of ice cream cone, licking her fingertips. “Detective Grant went over my statement again and again, trying to catch me in a lie. Finally, he gave up. I swear he’s like an angry battering ram.”

  I shook off my tight heels. “You were gone for three hours. Did it take that long?”

  She reached for her purse, removed a compact and a tube of lipstick and applied a peachy shine to her lips. “We grabbed a bite to eat afterward at the Dairy Queen.”

  “You could’ve called and said you were okay. Billie Jo and I were worried about you, and I had to skip lunch to help Holly out at the desk.” A hint of jealousy crept into my voice as I pictured them together at a small table, burger and fries forgotten, as they laughed over a remembered incident from their high school days.

  Right then, the door burst open, and Mama rushed in. “I got it, Jolene. Kayla said it was easy. She found a copy in the file cabinet in her husband’s home office and made a copy on his copier and ran it over to Diane’s, and I met them for lunch at Ruby Tuesday’s and voila, here I am.” She flung out her arms in a grand gesture. “Are you okay, Deena, honey? They didn’t slap handcuffs on you, did they, honey? I swear I don’t know what the world’s coming to.”

  I felt my eyebrows stretch toward the ceiling. “How many cocktails did you have with your lunch?”

  Mama flashed me a dour look. “We shared a carafe of wine with our seafood. I was worried about my daughter being hauled to jail.” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you questioning my choices?”

  “Yes. Now, let me read the autopsy report you’re waving around like a flag on a stick.”

  Deena gave me a sharp glance. “I told Jolene not to call you. Sam took me in to answer some additional questions regarding some foolish remark I made. I wasn’t hauled to jail. Now, would someone please explain what’s going on around here?”

  Mama just smiled. “Ask Jolene. She’s the one with the harebrained ideas. She called me this morning, scaring me half to death with tales of your imminent incarceration if I didn’t do what she wanted.” She waved the paper just under my nose. “This is Scarlett’s preliminary autopsy report, lifted by the coroner’s wife.”

  I grabbed the paper and shooed away her hand as she tried to retrieve it. “Let me read this.” I smiled sweetly to soften my voice.

  The door opened, and Billie Jo paused on the threshold. “Hey, Mama. Glad to see you back in one piece, Deena. I took those samples over to Paul. He said he’d get back with me in a day or two at the most, when he’s finished analyzing them.”

  Deena gestured to Billie Jo. “Join us. Our big sister is going to explain what’s going on since she’s the catalyst of all this activity.”

  I quickly scanned the report while Billie Jo closed the door and settled on the sofa. I looked up to find all three of them staring at me. From the stony expression on Mama’s face, I suspected she was still stewing. Vivacious Billie Jo tried not to appear curious, and Deena had that silly grin back on her face. I guessed she was using the time to daydream about her time with Bradford.

  Pushing aside that thought, I cleared my throat. “I’m trying to pin down the facts regarding Scarlett’s death so we can clear our name of any wrongdoing and save our business. Now that Deena’s a person of interest, we have to obtain the information by any way available to us to clear her and hopefully, Carla. Mama obtained a copy of the preliminary autopsy report through her connections. The report indicates the mask constricted Scarlett’s throat muscles. She choked to death on her own vomit. The coroner has it unofficially as a suspicious death.”

  “Does it say what made her sick?” Deena asked.

  I glanced back down at the report. “I’m not sure with all of these medical terms, but he obtained samples of her stomach contents for toxicology. He put a rush on it.”

  “Detective Grant kept asking me about the mask. Like how much I knew about the products. What to mix together. He really focused on my knowledge of chemistry. I informed him that, as manager, I have to have a working knowledge of all the products used in the salon.”

  Billie Jo made an impatient gesture. “Jolene wanted to hack into the police computers to copy their investigative reports, but I thought it was a dumb-ass idea. I suggested we take samples of the facial room jars and have them analyzed instead. That way we stay out of jail longer.”

  “Stop staring at me like I’ve sprouted another head,” I said. “We need to know what evidence the police have so we can plan our next move.”

  Mama huffed. “Plan our next move? I believe we should gather all future information from the grapevine and stay out of jail like Billie Jo suggested.”

  I turned to Deena. “Do you have the pictures of the crime scene?”

  She opened the top desk drawer, and withdrew a packet of pictures. “Yes, here they are. I looked at them, but nothing stands out other than that ghastly mask.” She handed them to me.

  The intercom buzzed. “Mrs. Hazard and Ms. Claiborne’s clients are here.”

  “Thank you, Holly. They’ll be right out,” Deena said.

  I shoved the fat envelope back across the desk. “I’ll look at these later.” I kissed Mama’s cheek. “Perhaps you should have a cup of coffee before you attempt to drive home. Or better still lie down on the sofa until some of the alcohol dissipates out of your system. We wouldn’t want to have to bail you out of jail for driving under the influence.”

  Mama gave a quick cackle of laughter. “Go on with you. I’m fine. But perhaps a fresh cup of coffee is a good idea before I hit the road.”

  Billie Jo and I left the office together. The rest of the afternoon progressed smoothly, other than the occasional problem with Scarlett’s ghostly moods. I swear once or twice her lamenting must’ve pierced through the veil, for I witnessed several clients jump up from their seats and plop back down in another, all the while scanning the salon wide-eyed. The commotion created havoc among the staff and clientele alike. Deena caught most of Scarlett’s pranks, but she refused to admit anything supernatural had taken over the salon. Everyone’s nerves were frayed by the end of the day. If I didn’t solve this soon, we wouldn’t have a salon left.

  ****

  The salon had closed, the staff had left, and the welcome silence washed around me after a long day behind the chair and smoothing ruffled feathers. Telling my sisters I had unfinished work on several wigs, I locked the doors and went into the kitchen for a glass of iced tea. Scarlett and I needed to
talk.

  My wait wasn’t long. I’d just sat down at the dinette table when she materialized over by the refrigerator, Civil War tatters and all—altered, of course.

  “Your face’s puffy,” I said. “Mine does the same thing after a good cry. Feel better?”

  She sighed. “Crying does help.”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Hearing all those negative comments people are making about me struck a memory. When I was alive, I never really cared about anyone’s feelings but my own. I came first. If I saw something—or someone—I wanted, I just went for it, regardless of the outcome. I never realized I was destroying lives along the way. No wonder Deena murdered me.”

  “I thought you said Carla did you in.”

  “I was wrong. Deena did it.”

  “You need to get that notion out of your head. Deena isn’t capable of murder. She won’t even kill a bug. Although, I wanted to strangle you—”

  “Ohmigod. You murdered me? I’m alone with my murderer?”

  Her reaction amused me. “You’re all ready dead, so settle down. The only thing I’m guilty of is wishful thinking. The killer is still at large.”

  Scarlett adjusted her tattered dress and sat down across the table from me, looking so alive I had a hard time believing her body rested on a cold slab in the morgue.

  “Sorry I accused you, but it sounded like a confession to me.”

  I finished my sip of tea. “Your apology is accepted. I’m glad your memory seems to be working well. I need some questions answered, like the names of the men you were sleeping with. Mr. Hart observed you messing around with a man whose description sounds an awful lot like Anthony.”

  “Old man Hart spied on me?”

  “Yep. With binoculars. Mrs. Hart too. She witnessed two men casing your house one night. She described them as dressed all in black like the FBI.” I laughed. “Annabel believed you might be an undercover agent. She woke up her husband and called the police. The men drove away before they could be apprehended.”

  She looked thoughtful. “Damn nosey neighbors. Believe me when I tell you that I wasn’t having an affair with Anthony.”