by Beth Yarnall
“Please, let me go first,” Juan Carlos said, bouncing in his chair. “I promise, this is big. Huge.”
“All right, go.” I waved him on. “But hurry, mine’s big, too.”
“It’s like being in the men’s room at the Leather Mustache,” Richard deadpanned.
Alex and I smothered our laughs while Juan Carlos ignored him, pressing on.
“Okay, so you know how you wanted me to find out about the company?” At my nod, Juan Carlos continued, “I know who Big Mac is.”
“Who?” I asked.
“MacKenzie Todd, better known as Mac, was Dhane’s partner in Hjálmar, but she was more like a silent partner. You know, she did the behind-the-scenes kind of stuff like product development. And apparently she was developing a really top-secret product that was going to launch Hjálmar into the outer stratosphere.”
“What kind of product?” I asked.
“Some kind of revolutionary new hair color formula that doesn’t fade even on really porous hair.”
“That’s not revolutionary,” Richard said.
“That’s not the revolutionary part, no. But get this.” Juan Carlos paused for dramatic effect. “What makes this color so innovative is that it can be changed with only one shampoo.”
“Like a rinse or toner?” I asked.
“Yes, but it won’t be sheer like a rinse or toner. This new color formula will give coverage like a permanent color, but will wash out completely when you use the special shampoo,” Juan Carlos explained. “In essence, a client could change her hair color for as long or short of a time as she wants.”
I could practically see the piles of money stacking up. My heart leaped in excitement. “That would be incredible. I could give my client a different hair color every day if she wanted.”
“Yes!” Juan Carlos enthused. “Think about it. A blonde could be a redhead for a weekend or a brunette for a month.”
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t work in reverse without lift,” Richard pointed out.
Alex looked puzzled. “What’s lift?”
“To put it simply, lift is how hair gets lightened. The greater the lift hair color has, the lighter the hair gets,” I explained. “I see what you mean, Richard, a brunette couldn’t be a blonde or a true redhead for a weekend. You could maybe get auburn, but with all that brown occurring naturally in the hair, you wouldn’t get a bright red.”
Juan Carlos jumped in. “Ah, here’s the thing though. Big Mac was supposedly testing just such a product.”
“Are you kidding? That’s not possible.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Can’t be done.”
“But what if it could?” Richard asked, looking for the first time like he was really interested in our conversation. “How much would a product like that be worth to a company? Millions? Billions?”
“Exactly,” Juan Carlos said. “And how pissed would you be if you developed such a product and your partner sold the company and your new product right out from under you?”
“He sold the company?” Richard blurted out.
“It was for sale. And from what I understand, there was a buyer, but no, Dhane died before the sale could go through,” Juan Carlos said.
“You’d think they’d have a partnership agreement to prevent that kind of thing, though,” I said. “Vivian and I have one. There’s no way either of us could sell our portion of the salon, let alone the whole business, without the other’s approval.”
“The LLC only lists Dhane. There’s no mention of Big Mac in any of the paperwork.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped, my mind spinning with new scenarios. “But why would Dhane do that when they were on the verge of something so huge?”
“That I don’t know,” Juan Carlos said.
I looked over at Alex. He was scribbling in a small notebook.
“I’m taking notes,” he explained.
That was a good idea. I wished I’d thought to do that. But then he did this sort of thing for a living. I dug around in my bag and came up with the sparkly silver notepad I carried to write down color formulas, and one of those fat pens with four different kinds of ink. Not exactly police issued, but it would do.
Just as I bent my head to write in it, I caught Alex’s approving half grin.
“Now you,” Juan Carlos said to me.
I set aside my notebook. “I think I might have found out what happened when Dhane’s dad died.”
“How? When? You had nothing when you left my room last night.”
“I used Alex’s computer.”
“How…but…oh! You are such a Two-faced Tilly.” Juan Carlos eyed me like I was his teenage daughter coming home past curfew. “What’d you do, hook up in the hall? And after you gave me such a hard time about me getting in some hard time with Rambo here.” He jerked his head toward Richard, who slumped down in his seat.
“I did not! He was already in my room when I got there.”
Juan Carlos sucked in air. “You had him on hold, pretending to be all tired so you could cut out early and do the mommy-daddy dance with Officer Awesome here.”
“I didn’t even know he was there!”
“She’s telling the truth,” Alex interjected on my behalf. “There weren’t any more rooms. Azalea was kind enough to let me share hers.”
Juan Carlos looked back and forth between Alex and me. “Right. And you’re telling me nothing happened.”
“She was all over me, but I managed to resist,” Alex said, a teasing smile playing around his mouth.
“Can I tell you what I found out now?” I asked. Juan Carlos gave a reluctant nod, so I continued, “Last night I must have looked at a thousand news articles and I’m sure I’d already read this one particular piece, but this morning something popped out at me. The article was dated ten years ago, so Trinity would have been about fourteen. Older than Jun’s story led us to believe, which is why I probably overlooked it the first time.
“What caught my eye was a small, grainy photo just below the byline. It was a yearbook photo of a young man named Daniel Ware of Newton, Kansas. The article was about how he’d come home to find there’d been a house fire and the only survivor was his younger sister. Arson was suspected then confirmed. In the rubble, two bodies were found.”
“Two? I don’t think you found the right article,” Juan Carlos said.
“Just wait,” I said. “The two bodies were determined to be the parents. They’d died from smoke inhalation. Because he hadn’t been home at the time, Daniel wasn’t charged.”
“What makes you think that article is linked to Dhane?” Alex asked.
“The photo,” I answered. “He was younger and had a really bad mullet, but I’m positive it was Dhane. There’s no mistaking those eyes.”
“That’s for sure,” Juan Carlos agreed. “But I’m confused. Jun said Dhane had killed their father and that’s why Trinity’s ten pounds of crazy in a five-pound sack.”
“Right. But here’s the thing. Dhane didn’t kill anyone,” I replied. “He had an alibi.”
“Then who killed the parents?” Richard asked.
“According to the newspaper report, there was only one suspect.” I looked around at everyone at the table, anticipating their reactions. “The little sister.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Holy Twisted Sister!” Juan Carlos exclaimed. “We all knew Trinity was one twist short of a slinky, but that level of crazy’s in the blood. Poor Dhane.”
Alex remained quiet, his head bent over his notebook, scribbling furiously.
“What are you writing?” I asked him.
“I’m making a note to contact someone in the Newton, Kansas, PD to find out if any charges were ever filed in that case. It’s doubtful I’ll get much, since Trinity was a minor and those records are usually sealed. But I may get lucky enough to get the detective’s impressions and maybe some insider info on the case.”
I don’t know why Alex’s willingness to help surprised me. He had come all this way to help Vivian. I gues
sed I expected him to be more like Kennedy, obstinate and closed-mouthed.
“Do you know anything about Dhane’s personal life?” Alex asked.
Jeez. I hadn’t thought about that. “No. Why?”
“Just covering all the bases,” Alex replied.
“I have a question,” Richard said.
We all looked at him.
“If Trinity killed her parents, it’s likely she may have also killed Dhane. And if so, why would Vivian take the fall for a known murderer?”
~*~
Richard’s words ricocheted around in my head all through breakfast and during our cab ride to the convention center. Why, if Vivian knew Trinity had killed once, would she take the rap for her? Why wasn’t Trinity locked up in a psychiatric ward, bouncing off padded walls instead of roaming free to possibly kill again and again? What had really happened in that house in Newton, Kansas, ten years ago?
And why, after all I now knew about Trinity, did I still feel sorry for her?
Juan Carlos, Richard, and I pulled up in front of the convention center and paid the cab fare. Alex had stayed behind with James to work on getting Vivian released. He’d promised to call me with any new information.
We made our way into the lobby, stopping short to read a new sign that had been posted. There was to be a memorial service conducted by Dhane’s partner, MacKenzie Todd, at nine that morning.
“What do you think? Should we go?” Juan Carlos asked.
“I think we should,” I answered. “On TV the murderer sometimes goes to the funeral.”
“But isn’t Trinity our main suspect?” Richard asked.
“She’s bumped up to the top of the list, but I’d also like to get a look at Dhane’s partner. She has a very strong motive for wanting Dhane dead.”
Juan Carlos considered it. “That’s true. Hey, maybe Jerk and Shabby will be there too.”
“Shorty,” I corrected. “Jerk and Shorty.”
“Who are Jerk and Shorty?” Richard asked.
“Come on,” I said. “We’ll fill you in on the way.”
We walked down one of the halls that shot out from the main lobby to the conference room where they were holding the memorial. The room was large and already packed with mourners and gawkers. On the dais, a podium wreathed in flowers had been set up along with a half-dozen chairs. A large photo of Dhane from a Hjálmar product campaign sat off to one side. I frowned. It was all so impersonal, as though it were merely for show.
Juan Carlos managed to snag us some seats. As soon as I sat down, someone slid into the seat next to me and threw an arm over my shoulder.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Kennedy whispered in my ear. “It seems my day wouldn’t be complete without you in it.”
“Jeez, do you always have to sneak up on people like that?”
“Who’s your friend?” Juan Carlos asked, mashing me into Kennedy for a better look at him.
“Detective Kennedy, my friends Juan Carlos and Richard. Guys, meet the cop who arrested Vivian.”
Juan Carlos bunched up his face and moved away. “What’s he doing here? And why are you so chummy with him?”
“Nice meeting you, too,” Kennedy responded.
“It’s not like I invited him to sit next to me,” I told Juan Carlos, trying to shake off Kennedy’s arm. “He just sat down.”
“Uh-huh.” Juan Carlos turned away, angling his body toward Richard to shut us out.
“Great,” I muttered to myself. Juan Carlos’s cold shoulder could take hours to thaw.
“Don’t worry, I’m used to it,” Kennedy said, finally withdrawing his arm now that the damage had been done.
“I wasn’t worried about you.”
“I’m surprised someone as close to Dhane as you were isn’t on the stage. Aren’t you going to eulogize your, ah, what is it the kids call it? Hook up? Booty call? Date? No, not date—”
“Do you ever shut up?”
“Oh, I see. You were on the down low. Don’t want your detective boyfriend to find out. Got it.”
“He’s not my… Oh, why do I bother? Don’t you have an innocent person to lock up or something?”
“Nah, I already nabbed my quota for the day before breakfast.” His gaze roamed the room, like a search beacon. “So, you come across any new info on our friend Dhane here?”
My bullshit radar beeped. Why was Kennedy being so nice? And why was he pumping me for information on the case? Unless…“You don’t have anything, do you? You’re stuck.”
“It’s just a question. Never mind.”
He started to get up, but I grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Wait. Maybe we can help each other.”
“Help? No. See, you don’t get it. I ask the questions and you answer.” He motioned back and forth between us. “This here is a one-way street.”
“Okay. Sure. If that’s the way you want it…” I put on my best smug smile and batted my lashes at him. “I’m sure you already know about the fire ten years ago anyway.” I examined my fingers. Dang it all if I didn’t spot another hangnail. I was so getting a new manicurist.
I could feel his gaze on me, burning a hole in the side of my head.
“How about I buy you a cup of coffee after this little soiree?”
“I’d love to have a cup of coffee with you, Detective.”
He eyed me uneasily as if trying to gage the level of my sincerity. “I’ll meet you at that coffee-hut thing off the main lobby.”
“It’s a date.”
“You sure are free with your dates.” And with that parting shot, Kennedy got up and walked away.
I should have been annoyed at the implied insult, but I was too pleased with myself for having something over Old King Kennedy. Plus it had the added benefit of helping to clear Vivian’s name. If I had to, I’d let Kennedy insult me any old way he wanted to for that.
“I cannot believe you!” Juan Carlos’s condemnation drew a few looks. “Fraternizing with the foe. Rendezvousing with the rival. Convening with the combatant. Associating with the—”
I held up a hand. “I get it. You’re pissed.”
“Pissed?” His voice rose. “Pissed?”
“Sshhh,” Richard admonished, glancing around to bring our attention to all of the people staring at us.
I hugged Juan Carlos’s arm and whispered, “He doesn’t know about the fire and Dhane’s parents. I’m meeting him afterward to try to negotiate some info out of him.” Juan Carlos didn’t look convinced. “The more attention is off Vivian and on to other people, the better for her, don’t you think?” I tried to summon up any guilt I might have at throwing Trinity Kennedy’s way, but what little I had was a pittance compared to my desire to prove Vivian’s innocence.
“I suppose.”
“Right. So, that’s what I’m doing.”
“Oh my God! You are totally crushing hard for the Irishman.”
“I am not. I can’t stand him. You think I would get the hots for the man who threw my best friend in jail? He’s cute but not cute enough to overcome that kind of betrayal.”
“You’d better not—”
The lights dimmed, cutting off Juan Carlos and signaling the start of the memorial service.
The crowd grew quiet. A petite brunette stepped onstage and then behind the podium.
“On behalf of Hjálmar and Dhane’s family, I want to thank you all for coming. My name is MacKenzie Todd.”
“That little mouse is Big Mac?” Juan Carlos whispered.
I put my finger to my lips and gave him my best kindergarten-teacher glare.
Several other people joined Mac onstage: Trinity, Tenchi, Sora, a woman I didn’t recognize, and what did you know…Jerk and Shorty.
“See those two on the end?” I asked Richard and Juan Carlos. “That’s Jerk and Shorty.”
“I worked with Dhane,” Mac continued, “We met a few years ago while I was employed at another company. When Dhane started Hjálmar, he asked me to join him. Of course I did. No one could resist
Dhane.” She said the last bit with a brittle half smile that said more than her words. “He steered Hjálmar through the rough seas of a fledgling business, navigating the waters deftly until he sailed it into the formidable ocean, turning it into the great conglomerate we know today.”
“Gawd, this is awful,” Juan Carlos murmured. “She makes him sound like a real Viking or something.”
I bit the inside of my cheek. It was awful.
Mac’s nautical-themed eulogy went on for another ten minutes. Other than that one hint at her real feelings toward Dhane, there was nothing special about what she said. I noticed Richard’s chin had dropped to his chest and he snored softly. My own head had bobbed like a buoy on a rough sea more than a few times.
Finally, Mac wrapped it up. “Fare-thee-well, Captain. We’ll miss you. And now I’d like to introduce Dhane’s wife to say a few words.”
I popped up in my seat.
Sora stood and approached the podium.
“Oh my God. Oh. My. God.” I couldn’t believe it! Sora was Dhane’s wife?
Juan Carlos grabbed my forearm. “What? What?”
“I’ll tell you later.”
Sora looked glorious, her gorgeous red hair falling down her back like a crimson waterfall, shiny and breathtaking. I’d kill for a chance to work with hair like that. I noticed every other hairstylist in the place with the same covetous expression. Rarely do we get our hands on such brilliance. Frizzy, fuzzy frog fur…yes. Five hairs we’re supposed to transform into a mass of splendiferous waves…yes. This shampoo commercial perfection…no.
Juan Carlos let out a pleasured sigh. Richard leaned into him. I found myself smiling despite the somber occasion.
Disney couldn’t have concocted a more perfect princess.
“Thank you all for being here. It’s comforting to know so many people loved Dhane as much as I did.” She sniffed right on cue. “And I loved Dhane so much.” She bowed her head, and that’s when I noticed Ace standing to the left of the stage, staring up at her with such naked adoration he shook with it.
“You all have been so kind. I want you to know that his sister, Trinity, and I appreciate all of the support you’ve given us. It means more to us than you’ll ever know.” Sora turned to the photo of Dhane, her hand clutched over her heart. “We’ll miss you, my love.” Then she walked over and kissed the picture on the lips.
