DEAD AS a DOORNAIL

by Tonya Kappes

  “Darnell and Lucy Ellen were having troubles?” I asked.

  Finn was busy making notes on the board while I asked the questions.

  “Yes. A year or so ago. According to Alma, they are happy as two love doves now, but Alma and Lucy Ellen compete for the same nail color, same hair color, even same hairstyle.” She nodded. “They come in and ask what the other one gets. I’m not going to lie, and I love Jesus. What I do might seem wrong, but I embellish some of their treatments they get.”

  “What do you mean?” Finn turned around.

  “Say Lucy Ellen came in to get a pedicure. Well, I might tell Alma that Lucy Ellen got a pedicure and a hot stone message. Then Alma will top that service for the week,” she said.

  We looked at her with our jaws dropped.

  “What?” she asked as if it were no big deal. “I’ve got to make a living. I’m upselling. All the big city salons do it.”

  “I’m not sure, but I don’t think she knows what upselling is,” I whispered to Finn. “But why would Alma want to kill Lucy?”

  “They were in such competition. The last time Alma was in, she asked me about buying the same color nail polish, Perfectly Posh. I told her what I told Lucy. I don’t sell it. She told me that Bosco had put her on a beauty budget, which to no end thrilled Lucy.” Tina rolled her eyes. “Which made me lose money because Lucy Ellen didn’t have to keep up with what Alma was doing. But regardless.” She flapped her hand down in front of her. “Alma was none too happy when I wouldn’t sell her the bottle. Now it’s missing.”

  Finn and I could see where making a friendly house call to Alma Frederick wouldn’t hurt anything.

  “Alma knew that Perfectly Posh was Lucy’s favorite. She came in and stole it. Put the cyanide in it and gave the fingernail polish to Lucy Ellen as a peace offering.” Tina was getting more and more into her idea of Alma being the killer. She scooted herself up to the edge of the cot and stood up. She paced back and forth as the story came to her head, which really wasn’t a bad theory. “Not only did Lucy Ellen accept her gift, she painted her nails. This way, Alma got her revenge without getting her hands dirty. Alma Frederick does not like to get her hands dirty.” Tina nodded with satisfaction.

  “Can I see you over here for a second, Finn?” I nodded to the corner of the room. This was when I wished we had more than a one-room department.

  “What’s up?” Finn bent his head toward me after we walked over near his desk, which was at the far side of the room near the back door.

  “Alma might be another good lead, but I also heard from Malina that Marcy and Lucy Ellen had words. Apparently, Lucy Ellen was going on and on about how Marcy wasn’t letting the citizens use their tax dollars that went toward the library when Marcy refused to let Lucy Ellen use the computers to write her reviews,” I whispered so Tina didn’t hear. “I questioned Marcy about it, but nothing really came of it.”

  “What about the polish? When does Tina make the polish?” Poppa asked after he appeared between me and Finn, ignoring the fact that Finn and I were in a conversation.

  “The bottle of nail polish is something I really want in my hand,” I said. “I know if we can find it, that’s our murder weapon.”

  “How long does nail polish stay good?” Poppa asked another great question. “You need to ask her more questions about the nail polish.”

  “What was the mayor thing about out there?” Finn asked.

  “I think it’s strange that the mayor has taken a very vested interest in me not investigating. It’s alarming really. Was he hiding something? I just had to know.” I tried to stay focused on Finn even though Poppa’s observation about the nail polish had my head swirling with thoughts.

  “And?” Finn asked, his voice escalated.

  “He just wants his wedding to go off without a hitch. That’s all. Even though most of these people have alibis, they still could’ve poisoned the polish and given it to Lucy Ellen and waited until she painted her nails.” Something just wasn’t right about all of these suspects in my head. I had a nigglin’ suspicion I was missing something. Maybe Poppa was right. There was something about the polish.

  “You’re right. That’s why it’s so important we continue to track who Lucy Ellen had been in contact with since her last nail appointment.” Finn had a terrific thought.

  “Tina!” I pushed past Finn. “When was the last time that you did do Lucy’s nails?”

  “It would be in the appointment book, but about two weeks ago. It was whenever the SPCA was having their big food drive because she’s part of that program, though she doesn’t have any animals.”

  “SPCA?” I remembered the review Lucy Ellen had written about the Pet Patch. “Lucy Ellen wrote a bad review about Pet Patch. I did go by and see her. Nothing much to say.” I shrugged. “But Lucy Ellen could’ve made someone at the SPCA mad.”

  “Faith Dunaway is so good to me and Cosmo.” Finn loved his cat so much. “She makes her own catnip.” Finn walked over to the white board and wrote “Marcy Carver” and “SPCA.”

  Just when I thought I was running out of suspects, the list suddenly got a little longer.

  “Sweet Marcy Carver?” Tina’s mouth dropped.

  “Ignore that,” I told her and walked up to the cell. “As you know I’m not really up to date on manicures and all things related to girly stuff.”

  My words made her smile.

  “Apparently,” she looked at Finn and then looked back at me giving me a wink, “you snagged him and he likes whatever it is that you’ve got going on.” She winked again.

  “Focus,” I instructed her. “You make the polish as needed. Why?”

  “Good work, Kenni-bug.” Poppa smacked his hands together and rubbed them vigorously.

  “So I won’t waste the ingredients.” She looked at me as if I should’ve know that. Then it was as if a light bulb went off in her head. “I make the bottles small because not everyone loves my homemade colors. Lucy Ellen was the only person who loved my Perfectly Posh on a regular basis so I made a small bottle for her. Her bottle is only good for about a week until the ingredients separate.” She was getting so excited, that her voice escalated and her chest heaved up and down as she tried to get her train of thought out.

  She grabbed the bars with both hands. Her knuckles turned white she was squeezing so hard.

  “Whatever polish she used wasn’t made by me.” Tina smiled so big. Her eyes widened. “I wouldn’t have kept her bottle. I hadn’t made Polly’s bridal shower polish yet. I was going to make it fresh so it looked good.”

  “Are you saying that you threw out the bottle of Perfectly Posh you used on Lucy Ellen the last time she came in?” Finn asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Tina nodded her head. “In fact, the day she came in demanding me to do her nails, I didn’t have any made up. Remember how she kept looking for it while I was doing you?”

  “I do,” I replied and ignored Poppa who was now in the cell with Tina doing his little happy jig.

  “When does your dumpster come?” Finn asked.

  “It’s long gone by now. That was a couple of weeks ago. And I had no time to make up any nail polish since I’ve been going back and forth to Clay’s Ferry.” She let go of the bars and crossed her arms across her chest with a huge grin on her face. “Someone other than me knows how to make my polish.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Even though Tina had coughed up her alibi and the fact that she said she hadn’t made the polish, it was too late to get the necessary paperwork filed to let her go so late at night. Finn and I decided that he’d stay there to keep an eye on her and I’d go home to get some sleep.

  But before I could do that, I headed to Clay’s Ferry to drop off the evidence I’d collected at Tiny Tina’s.

  “Where are we headed?” Poppa asked from the passenger seat.

 
“Tom Geary’s lab.” The Wagoneer rattled down the old road toward Clay’s Ferry. “The cyanide bottle and the fingernail polish from Cheree’s station are my main focus. I want to see if there are fingerprints.”

  “This was a special circumstances case due to the nature of the murder weapon. Just because everyone seemed to have an alibi didn’t mean they didn’t premeditate it days or even weeks before.” Poppa didn’t tell me something I already didn’t know. “This might be our toughest case yet.”

  The anxiety in his words knotted my insides.

  When we got to the lab, I knew that Tom had a container in the back of the brick building that led into the building, which was under tight security. The container was for the after-hours evidence that was dropped off. It was big enough for the bottle and the other evidence bags to fit in.

  I called and left Tom a voicemail. “Hi, Tom.” I didn’t worry with calling his after-hours service that would make him come in and process the evidence. “It’s Sheriff Lowry from Cottonwood.” I told him who I was, though he’d already know. Everything had to be on the up and up and nothing left undone. “I just put a couple of evidence bags in the overnight container. One has a bottle of cyanide that was found at one of the evidence scene locations and the other has some generic fingernail polish that was probably picked up at the dollar store.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure if Cheree had truly picked up the polish there or somewhere else for a dollar, but that didn’t matter.

  “What I’m looking for are fingerprints. Specifically to see if there are matching prints on either. Give me a call when you get it completed.” I hung the phone up and grabbed the bags out of the backseat before I got out and put them in the container.

  After I’d gotten home, I spent the better part of the night tossing and turning.

  Duke even got so tired of me rolling side to side that he got off the bed and slept on the floor. Not only the fact that Tina had put doubt in my head about her being the killer, but the guilt about Polly Parker and Mama had settled into the bottom of my heart.

  It wasn’t that I was ruthless or mean—it was the fact that the two of them expected me to do what they wanted me to do. Mama was probably more embarrassed than I was that Polly had dropped me from her wedding.

  Instead of waiting for my alarm to go off at six a.m., I decided to get on up. With the coffee pot brewing, Duke let outside, and his bowl filled with kibble, I knew I had to go make amends with Polly. It wasn’t until the hot shower was running over me that I got an idea that might make everyone happy. Besides, the annual gun show I needed to check out didn’t start until ten and I knew Polly worked for Viola White at White’s Jewelers on Fridays. The jewelry store opened at seven, giving me enough time to get ready for my day and be at the shop waiting on Polly before it opened.

  White’s Jewelers was located on Main Street along with the other boutique shops in Cottonwood. They were all very unique and charming in their own way. It was nice that we had the Sweet Adelines that helped keep everything nice, clean, and in order. The city council also made sure all the shops were tidy and fit the cozy small-town feel that Cottonwood was known for.

  Viola White’s shop had been a staple since before I was even born. She took pride in her jewelry, which made her business very personal to her and her clients. Viola was getting up in age and she only let Polly Parker work part-time for her to give herself a weekly break. Other than that, Viola was always there. Polly’s day was Friday and it being so close to her wedding, a little more than a week away, I was hoping she didn’t take off.

  The awning over the shop flapped in the cool breeze that shuffled its way down Main Street. The grey awning that had “White’s Jewelry” scrolled in calligraphy with two white illustrated diamonds on each side of the name hung evenly over the two large windows that looked right into the shop.

  It brightened my day to see Polly Parker in there going through the glass jewelry counters trying on all the fancy rings and holding them out to look at.

  “My oh my.” Polly Parker’s voice dripped of Southern charm when Duke and I walked in. “Look what the cat dragged in so early this morning.”

  “Polly.” I stepped up to the counter. “I know I’m the last person on this earth you want to see, but I’ve got an idea that might make you happy.”

  “I’ve got nothing good to say to you, Kenni Lowry. You have not only stepped on my heart, but you’ve smashed it into the ground with those boots you wear.” Her words made me look down at my feet.

  Yeah, so I wore cowboy boots every single day with my uniform. They were comfortable. Duke sniffed my boots as if he knew exactly what she’d said. He looked up at me with those big round brown eyes. I patted his head.

  “I’m sorry, Polly. I truly am, but I can’t just ignore the law and the crimes committed so I can be your maid of honor.” This sure wasn’t going as it had in my head while I was in the shower, so I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts. “I have a job to do like you’ve got a job to do here.”

  “What is it you want?” Those pretty little blue eyes glared at me before they shifted to Duke as he lay by my feet.

  “I know that you’re mad because I have Tina Bowers in the county jail and she can’t do all the nails of the girls in your bridal party because she’s locked up. But she might be out before your nail party tonight. I promise to let you know in a couple of hours.” That was the long and short of why she was mad at me. “If what I’m thinking doesn’t pan out, what if I let you and your bridal party come down to the department tonight and let Tina do your nails there?”

  “Kenni.” Polly’s voice choked. She brought her hand up to her chest. “You’d do that for little ole me?”

  Now she was going to play the poor pitiful Southern belle on me.

  “I think it’s a way to make you happy and my mama happy. Let’s face it.” It was time to come clean. “You don’t care that Tina Bowers is under arrest for killing someone. You probably only invited her to your wedding because your mama made you.” Polly’s eyes started to lower. “Don’t be going and glaring at me. You know I’m right. You only care that the nails of your wedding party are all done the same and Tina is cheap.”

  “Yeah, so?” she snarled.

  “This way, we both get what we want. You get your nails done. Tina gets paid handsomely by you.” I threw that part in because I knew Tina was losing money sitting in jail and I still had my doubts she killed Lucy. “And I’m still your maid of honor.”

  Duke groaned and rolled to his side.

  “Deal.” She gave me her word, which was better than a handshake in the South. “Thank goodness, because Mama was going to Blanche’s to get fitted for your dress. I was going to have to use my own mama for my maid of honor.”

  “You should’ve asked Toots.” I gave her another chance to back out of asking me.

  “I couldn’t ask her. I don’t want her to feel obligated to pay that much for a dress when I really want her to enjoy herself.” Polly at least looked out for her friend.

  “You go on and tell Tibbie that we made up. Then you show up tonight at the department around seven for a nail painting party if you haven’t heard from me.” It all sounded good until Tina flipped her lid when I got back to the department and told her my idea when Duke and I showed up to relieve Finn since there was still an hour before I had to leave for the gun show and Betty got to work.

  “Nail painting party in jail?” She stuck her nose between the bars of the cell.

  I thought it was a pretty good idea, however apparently Tina didn’t like my thoughts. Finn said he was going to head over to Clay’s Ferry to check out Tina’s alibi before he went home. I’d expected to hear from him within the hour.

  “You agreed to this?” she asked me.

  “I came up with the idea.” I shrugged, thinking I’d really done something for everyone. “I told her that she had to pay you
extra. But this is only if your alibi doesn’t pan out.”

  “No matter what your mama says, you go on and have a great Christmas with that man.” Tina winked.

  “How did you know about the Christmas thing?” I asked.

  “Viv stopped by this morning. She gave Finn all sort of business for asking you to come to meet his parents. It’s obvious she thinks you are required to spend every single second of every single holiday, including Arbor Day, here in Cottonwood.”

  “Mama,” I groaned. She was going to mess up anything I had with Finn if I didn’t put a stop to her nonsense. I thought she’d come to grips with me going, not the same as okay, but she did seem that she accepted the fact I was going to Chicago.

  “Come on, Kenni.” Tina waved me over. “Come play cards with me until Finn calls with my alibi.”

  “I’m not playing cards with you. I’m going to the gun show so I can have a little visit with Alma while you stay here with Betty,” I said just as Betty came through the door.

  Her pink hair rollers were still in her hair, which wasn’t unusual since she believed the longer she left them in, the longer they’d set for her plans later in the day. She had on her usual house dress with her pocketbook hanging from the crook of her arm.

  “Tina Bowers.” Betty acted surprised. “What on earth?”

  “Oh, shut up.” Tina snarled. “I know all y’all nosy women on the church telephone list have already tried and hung me for Lucy’s murder.”

  Betty’s mouth opened to protest but quickly snapped shut when she realized Tina was right. She scurried over to her desk and put her pocketbook down. She fluffed the pillow in her chair before she sat down. The chair creaked in protest. Though she seemed to be minding her own business, she was doing a busy job of minding mine too.

  “I’ve got an alibi. Go on,” she baited Betty, “ask Kenni what my alibi is so you can go and spread it around town.”