Dixieland Dead

by Penny Burwell Ewing

  4. Was Carla involved in Scarlett’s murder? Was her husband involved?

  5. Cherry hated Scarlett. Why? An affair between Scarlett and Robert? Something else?

  6. Scarlett was having an affair with the mayor. Did his wife know?

  7. What about the strange scene Becky witnessed between Scarlett and Linda in the OB/GYN’s office? Could Linda have harbored hard feelings for her rival?

  8. Who broke into the salon? Was there a connection with Scarlett’s murder?

  9. What’s up with Detective Grant and the expensive Rolex watch? Why did he fail to inform Bradford about the jade elephant? Does he have me under surveillance?

  10. Who is the man in the blue sedan? Why is he following me?

  11. What is the jade elephant, and where do I find it?

  On and on I wrestled with my thoughts, stopping only to peer out of the drapes into the deepening night for any sign of the blue sedan. Hunger drove me to the kitchen for a quick supper, after which I returned to my notes with a sense of urgency. With only the sound of the ticking grandfather clock and Tango’s soft padding across the hardwood for company, I wracked my brain for any further incidents that might shed light on this mystery. The truth was hiding in plain sight, and I had to find it before I was shackled with Scarlett’s ghost, or worse yet, another death, and I wasn’t ready to be headin’ for the Gloryland.

  ****

  “Deena, come see Jolene’s face,” Billie Jo said when I walked into the salon early the next morning. “She’s been kissing a moving fan.”

  “Oh, Lord, what happened to you? Is that a rash on your face and neck? And look at your arms. No wonder you called in sick,” Deena remarked as she looked me over.

  Not being one for a lot of attention, I sidestepped their questions by using the same lie I’d used with Mama, figuring one lie was as good as another. No one questioned my story, but I could see the doubt in their eyes.

  The morning remained busy for me since Holly had been unable to reschedule most of my appointments from yesterday and had to squeeze them in today. And, of course, my beat-up condition was the buzz for the day. I received more pitying looks than I cared for. Anthony avoided me completely.

  Unfortunately, Cherry Burns turned out to be my eleven o’clock appointment. She took one look at me as Holly deposited her at my station and immediately started fussing.

  “Please don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” I told her, fastening a shampoo cape around her neck. “Are we touching up the roots today?”

  “Yes. Give me the works.”

  I leafed through the color cards until I found hers and set it on the counter. After sectioning her hair, I went back to the dispensary to mix her color. She was on her cell phone when I returned.

  She snapped the phone shut just as I began applying color. “That was Robert,” she informed me with a smile. “He calls throughout the day to check in with me, you know.”

  “No, I didn’t know,” I murmured half-heartedly, not really caring if he called her or not. I had other things on my mind.

  “He’s changed since Scarlett’s death.”

  That caught my attention. “I believe change is good, don’t you?” If my hunch proved right, Scarlett had found out about Robert’s affair and had been blackmailing him. That spelled motive. Any information I gathered could be passed along to Bradford. Luckily, she was in a chatty mood.

  “Not many people know this, but Robert and I were close to a divorce,” she confessed. “I suspected him of having an affair. He denied it, of course.”

  “Scarlett?”

  “Who else?”

  “That’s what you were trying to tell me on Saturday,” I said with sympathy. “You believed Scarlett was after your husband?”

  “Yes! God, I hated her. Robert accused me of driving him away with my unfounded accusations. He threatened to move out,” she finished with a sob.

  Hmm. That opened another possibility. Cherry could be the mysterious female voice heard in the facial room just before Scarlett’s murder. Reaching for the tissue box, I encouraged her to continue. There was no better source of information than a hysterical woman who believed she’d been betrayed.

  I wasn’t disappointed. Between sobs, she told me the whole wretched story.

  “Did you ask him about Scarlett claiming to have seen him at Merry Acres when he was supposed to be away in Biloxi on business?”

  Cherry clenched her hands in her lap. “I confronted him about it when he arrived home Sunday morning. He confessed that he’d lied about his whereabouts. He took a room at the inn so he could work out a very serious situation with Scarlett. He said she was determined to catch the eye of a major network with an undercover piece she was working on. He was trying to protect me from the nasty fallout if she succeeded in her plans.”

  The story rang false, but I couldn’t voice my doubts if I wanted additional information. “Did he mention the subject of this alleged report?”

  She dabbed her eyes with the tissue. “He would only say that the report would hurt a lot of very important people in this town, and the state. Scarlett refused to listen. She wanted to make a name for herself at the expense of others. Even the mayor became worried about a scandal if the report was made public.”

  This I could believe. Wouldn’t Bradford be surprised when I handed over my notes to him, plus this added bonus? Of course, I’d leave out the part about the filched autopsy report.

  I flashed a playful grin. “This has all the makings of a great mystery novel. You say the mayor was concerned?”

  She made a dramatic gesture with manicured hands. “Well, Robert came home late one night a couple of weeks ago, just furious. Scarlett had ruffled the feathers of some very important men, he said and if she wasn’t careful she’d find herself at the end of a very long rope. I overheard him arguing with the mayor on the phone.”

  “Did he go to the police? You’d think so, especially if the mayor knew what was going on.”

  “I don’t know. When I suggested he do so, he blew up at me and told me to mind my own damn business, so I did.”

  I finished applying color to the last section and set the timer for thirty minutes. “Who do you suppose those men were? And what connection does the mayor have with them?” I placed a plastic cap on her head.

  “I asked myself the same questions.”

  “You don’t suppose they could be responsible for Scarlett’s death, do you?” I shivered at the thought of a bunch of hired thugs breaking into the salon.

  Cherry shook her head. “Robert said your aesthetician—what’s her name?—is the guilty party. And I heard Deena made another trip downtown.”

  Frowning into the mirror, I said, “Deena is no longer a person of interest. And Carla is out of the hospital and at home resting. She didn’t deliberately cause Scarlett’s death.”

  “Don’t be too sure.” She pushed herself to a standing position and followed me to one of the pre-heated dryers lining the wall. “You never know about people. Robert told me Scarlett broke up Carla’s marriage.”

  This old news I was aware of, but I played dumb, hoping for more tidbits. “Seriously?”

  “Robert said he tried to dissuade Frank, but the boy was bewitched.”

  “And you yourself believed Scarlett was having an affair with Robert which gives you motive.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “True. Killers come in all shapes and sizes. I would’ve killed her long ago if I had a mind to do so, Jolene. But thanks for thinking about me. I appreciate the vote of confidence.”

  I flushed at her sarcastic tone. I really had to watch my tongue if I wanted to keep my customers from walking out.

  “At least Scarlett never dug her claws into that divine hunk,” she added, nodding toward the front of the salon.

  I glanced over my shoulder as Bradford strolled through the door. He stopped in front of me. Every feminine eye watched as he brought his hand forward and handed me the plastic bag with my soiled clothing in it.


  “I presume these are yours?”

  Mercifully, the poison oak hid the extent of my embarrassment as I took the bag from him.

  Bradford merely smiled at my humiliation. “You have something for me, right?”

  “In my car,” I said, keeping my eyes averted. “Come with me.”

  Quickly, I pushed Cherry under the dryer and hurried away. Her cry of indignation fell on deaf ears as I rounded the corner with Bradford behind me.

  Holly signaled to me as we passed the reception desk. “Your next client had to cancel. She rescheduled for Thursday afternoon, but your next appointment is here a little early for his haircut.”

  “Thank you. Please take him to my station and tell him I’ll be with him in a minute.”

  Bradford followed me to the rear parking lot. I unlocked my car door and threw the plastic bag into the back seat. From the front passenger seat, I retrieved the manila envelope holding the copied notes and handed them to him. Then I told him everything I’d just learned from Cherry.

  “You seem to have forgotten your promise to stay out of this,” he said, towering over me. “I appreciate the help you’ve given me, but no investigating from this point on, no matter what. We have a deal, remember?”

  My mouth opened, closed. I nodded. He smiled. “Good girl. Oh, and I like your shoes.”

  With a wink, he turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of the front parking lot. Like a breathless girl of eighteen, I stood staring down at my lime-green heels with adorable yellow polka-dot bows.

  He likes my shoes!

  A zing of anticipation filled me, and I returned to work with renewed zeal. Deena may have hooked the best fish in the pond of eligible bachelors, but the look in Bradford’s eye left no doubt that he hadn’t been reeled in yet. And therein lay the problem. How to stop this growing attraction?

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Jade Elephant

  “We have a business meeting at six with Robert Burns,” Deena said. “He’s looking for the right salon, and stylist, for Scarlett’s replacement, Tammy Hodges. He advised me he was strongly considering other salons, so this is our only chance to convince him to give Dixieland another chance. No more mistakes. We need this contract.”

  Billie Jo and I were having lunch in her office. “Anthony will have a hissy fit if another salon is chosen.” I took another bite of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “He’s got it in his mind that the position should be his since he was Scarlett’s stylist.”

  “Anthony’s hiding something,” Billie Jo said.

  I looked over at my sister who was crunching a carrot stick. “You’re right, but what?” After his unwelcome appearance in my house yesterday, I’d pulled him aside and threatened to introduce him to Mini Pearl if he ever pulled a stupid stunt like that again. Hopefully, I’d put the fear of God into him because I wouldn’t want to follow through on my threat.

  “Never mind,” Deena said. “We’re short on time and need to discuss our strategy for keeping our business in the media. The positive side, I would add.”

  We decided on the straightforward approach. Deena would be our spokeswoman, and Billie Jo and I would answer any technical questions regarding styles and makeup.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur as I permed, cut, and colored my way to exhaustion. My last client waltzed out the door precisely at five. I left the salon, promising to meet my sisters at WXYB in forty-five minutes, and raced home to shower and change into comfortable slacks and a short-sleeved blouse.

  At 5:45, I pulled into the TV station parking lot. Billie Jo and Deena were waiting for me at the front entrance. I parked and joined them. The receptionist escorted us to Robert’s secretary—a pretty brunette, who ushered us into his opulent office.

  “Sit down, ladies.” Robert motioned us to the chairs before his massive cherry wood desk. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Tired beyond thought, I sank down into the pale ivory plush sofa, leaving the two wingback chairs for my sisters, as I preferred to stay in the background. Billie Jo scowled at me but followed Deena to the chairs facing the TV executive.

  Since it’d been decided that Deena, as salon manager, would be in charge, I allowed the conversation to fade into the background. I laid my head back, and the comfort of the expensive fabric embraced me. The murmur of voices flowed over me like warm bath water. I slipped off my heels and plunged my toes into the lush green carpet. The lightest scent of vanilla wafted throughout the space and as I inhaled deeply, the mental picture of homemade sugar cookies popped into my mind.

  My stomach rumbled loudly, and I opened my eyes to find Billie Jo frowning at me from her chair. From the sound of the pleasant conversation, matters were under control and my presence wasn’t required, so I excused myself and escaped into the outer office.

  “The restroom is down the hall to the left,” the secretary explained when I voiced my need.

  “Thank you,” I said, heading out the door. The hallway was long and branched off into a Y. Just as I reached the fork and started left, I paused, certain I recognized Scarlett’s co-host, just down the hall to the right along the Y branch. After a moment’s hesitation, I turned around and caught up with him midway down the hall, but it turned out to be the wrong guy.

  I don’t believe in fate, but after the man walked away, the nameplate on the door facing me gave me pause. Scarlett’s office.

  Get out of here. For several seconds, I stood in indecision. I’d promised Bradford I would stay out of trouble. No investigating, no matter what, he’d said.

  “I’m not investigating—just seizing an opportunity to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Buoyed by my whispered but confident words, I pushed open the door. The small office appeared neat and feminine, everything in its place. A bookshelf filled with knick-knacks, books, and pictures of Scarlett posing with various people dominated one wall. Several awards for outstanding journalism hung on the wall behind a desk and chair. An inviting pink and green chintz chair sat in the corner of the room.

  Somewhat surprised by the coziness of the office—I’d figured Scarlett for something a little less homespun—I wandered over to the bookshelf and picked up a picture of her parents. They’d been a handsome couple. Scarlett mostly resembled her mother, with the dark hair, but she had her father’s remarkable blue-green eyes.

  Curious now, I fingered several of the small figurines, hoping they might shed more light on Scarlett’s upside down personality—a crystal unicorn, a porcelain squirrel gripping an acorn, and a hand-carved jade dragon. The latter jarred my memory, and I searched around for a jade elephant figurine, but to no avail. When I looked over the next shelf, filled with books, I spotted a small volume entitled The Jade Elephant.

  Excited with my discovery, I grabbed the book off the shelf and leafed through it, looking for any pencil marks or notes Scarlett might’ve made on the pages that would give a clue to its meaning. Finding none, I studied the worn jacket cover and frayed binding. It was a collection of poetry by an unknown author. Nothing unusual caught my eye. I turned the book over, searching for any clue on the back cover jacket.

  Several more minutes passed as I continued to examine the small volume. Perhaps the mystery lay in the content of the poems. Removing the book from the office wasn’t something I wanted to chance, but what other option did I have? I couldn’t study each poem here. Besides, would anyone even notice its absence? Probably not, since Scarlett’s personal items hadn’t even been removed. Opening my purse, I groaned, wishing I’d switched handbags. Mini Pearl, nestled in her pink holster, filled the crammed space. Time was running out. I had to do something fast, so I snatched off the jacket cover and examined the frayed and split edges of the binding.

  One spot looked as if it had been purposely cut in an effort to hide something, so I slipped a finger down inside to feel the edges of something hard and flat. Turning the book upside down, I gently shook it to dislodge the item, but when that failed, I slipped two fingers back in to
retrieve a small flash drive.

  Approaching footsteps alerted me to possible discovery, so I shoved the thumb-drive into the tiny outside compartment of my purse, reinserted the book back into its jacket, and returned it to the shelf.

  The door cracked open as I settled into the chintz chair in the corner. I glanced down and noticed the top edges of the thumb-drive sticking out. Crap, it didn’t fit, but there wasn’t anything to be done about it now. I pasted on a bright smile and waited for the woman who had stepped into the room to turn around and notice me.

  She was petite, with curly red hair. Her movements were light and quick as she moved across the room, humming an unfamiliar tune. She laid a folder on the desk, hesitated for a moment, like she’d forgotten some minor detail, and then turned around as if to leave. That’s when she spotted me.

  “Oh! I beg your pardon—you startled me. I don’t believe we have an appointment, do we?”

  I stood up and approached her with an outstretched hand. “I’m sorry I startled you. I’m Jolene Claiborne. My sisters and I own Dixieland Salon.”

  Golden eyes flickered with interest as she shook my hand and, thankfully, she didn’t comment about my messed-up face. “I’m Tammy Hodges. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard about your salon. I do believe in the context of murder.” Her eyebrows rose politely.

  “We did have an unfortunate accident in the facial room,” I said, trying not to show my displeasure in the way she’d worded it.

  She tilted her head to the side. “Unfortunate accident?”

  I let out a strained laugh. “You know how things get blown out of proportion in small towns. Give us a chance before judging. Lightning only strikes once in the same place.” By now, I was pretty sure it’d been no accident—but I wasn’t ready to admit that publicly.

  “Gossip does tend to grow with each new telling,” she agreed. “Please tell me what I can do for you.”

  I sat down in the chair facing her desk. “My sisters and I are here for a meeting with your boss. We’re hoping to continue our contract with the station.”

  “Oh, yes. That dreadful incident is the reason I have this job. How did you know where to find me?”