“We’re going to need that book,” Stanley said.
“I told Sloan earlier,” Claire said, “I don’t have it. I know Tuppy said he left it for me, but I can’t find it. Believe me, Stanley, there’s nothing I want more than to be done with Sloan and all her crazy drama. I wasn’t in on some plot with Tuppy; this was all him.”
“I’m going to need you to sign a new confidentiality agreement.”
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Just a precaution.”
“I’ll show it to my attorney, and if he thinks I should sign it I will.”
Stanley sighed as he stood up.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he said.
His quiet tone scared her more than if he had shouted.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Claire said. “I don’t trust any of you, and for a good reason. I’ve seen your work.”
“I’ll have the agreement hand-delivered to your attorney this evening. I want it signed and returned to me by noon tomorrow.”
He walked toward the front door.
“Don’t you want his name and address?”
Stanley shook his head.
“Already got it,” he said.
He left the salon and Claire felt her stomach unclench.
“Was that your boyfriend?” the woman asked.
Claire shook her head.
“Snappy dresser,” the woman said.
At five o’clock Claire picked up Mackie Pea from Skip’s mother’s house and feigned delight over the pink coat she had made for the little dog. It had purple crocheted trim all around the hem, and purple crocheted buttons down her tummy. Her little front legs were stuck through its sleeves and it had a little pink hood with a purple tassel.
“I just love her,” the older woman said. “It gets so cold here at night and I hate to think of her shivering.”
Claire thanked her and made her promise to come in for a free haircut. She then took Mackie Pea for a walk to the Rose and Thorn to collect her father. Mackie seemed to be proud of her new sweater, and strutted down the sidewalk with her head held high. Claire didn’t have the heart to take it off.
“All this time I thought you were so high class,” she told the dog, “when actually you’re just a good ole girl at heart.”
Ian was sitting in the back booth with Sam and Scott. He scooped up Mackie Pea, set her on the table in front of him and began feeding her peanuts.
“Look at your fancy new coat,” Ian said to Mackie. “Aren’t you the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen?”
“Well?” Claire said to Scott and Sam. “Where’s the key ring?”
“Sammy traded it to someone at the service station but doesn’t remember the name,” Scott said.
Claire felt what was left of her courage drain away.
“Has something happened?” Scott asked her.
“What’s going on?” her father asked.
“Nothing, Dad,” Claire said. “Are you ready to go home? I have another appointment at six so I need to get back.”
“I can take him home,” Sam said. “You and Scott go on.”
“I can take my own damn self home,” Ian said. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m just hoping Delia will give me some dinner, Ian,” Sam said. “You know Hannah’s idea of dinner time is whenever she gets around to it.”
“I’m sure she would,” Ian said. “Our Delia’s a mighty fine cook.”
Claire mouthed “thank you” to Sam, who nodded in return.
She reached for her dog, but her father batted her hands away.
“You leave my little sweetheart alone,” he said. “She’s staying with me.”
Sam winked at Claire and gestured with his head for her to go on.
Scott followed her outside.
“I guess you heard about Meredith and Knox,” he said. “What a mess.”
Claire hoped Scott could not see her face flush with shame. It was so complicated to be friends with a policeman, especially when you and your cousins couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble.
“I don’t think they killed Tuppy,” Claire said. “A confidentiality agreement I signed during my former employment prohibits me from speculating on who might have, so infer from that what you will.”
“I heard that gossip, too,” Scott said. “Unfortunately Stanley got Senator Bayard to come down on Sarah through her boss. She’s been made to understand that going after Sloan is no longer an option.”
“Even if she’s guilty?”
“There were threatening phone calls and texts,” Scott said. “But she was thousands of miles away when it happened.”
“But Stanley was here.”
“Yes, but just like with Knox, there’s no proof, and Sarah’s not allowed to look for any.”
“Sarah must be foaming at the mouth. Do you think she’ll come after me again?”
“No,” Scott said. “Knox is the next best thing to a movie star around here. She thinks derailing his political plans will do in a pinch.”
“Senator Bayard isn’t interested in protecting him?”
“They’re all distancing themselves in preparation for the scandal.”
“What happened with the cars?”
“That’s a dead end,” Scott said. “The pieces of Meredith’s car are probably in a hundred resale shops by now, and Knox’s car is at the dealership in Morgantown, getting some work done.”
“How convenient.”
“So we’re left with Meredith’s word for what happened,” Scott said, “and she’s not exactly a reliable witness. Plus there’s every chance that nothing she said on the way to the hospital can be used against her. Thanks to Knox, Pip’s wanted for leaving the scene of a crime, not to mention unpaid child support and tax evasion. Sarah’s not sure who will get to him first, the feds or the police.”
“He may be safer in jail,” Claire said. “He’s also owes a lot of money to my previous employer.”
“There’s a warrant out for Pip’s arrest,” Scott said. “Any idea where he went?”
“None,” Claire said, and then wondered why she continued to protect her ex-husband when he so thoroughly deserved every consequence coming to him.
“Did Sarah talk to Tuppy’s family?”
“It didn’t come to anything,” Scott said. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m relieved not to be the prime suspect,” Claire said, “but I don’t want anyone to get away with murdering Tuppy. I don’t think she who must not be named would come here unless she was very worried. I don’t think her attorney wanted her to come. He usually cleans up her messes alone.”
“Maybe it’s just the book Sloan’s after. There must be some pretty damning information in there.”
“We may never know,” Claire said.
“You want me to hang out with you until it’s time to go home?” Scott asked her.
“No,” Claire said. “You probably need to be at your mom’s.”
“My sister’s there,” he said. “She’s still in denial about what’s going on; she doesn’t want us to call Hospice.”
“Surely she doesn’t want your mom to go through all that chemo and radiation,” Claire said.
“She does,” Scott said. “She wants Mom to fight this. She doesn’t want us to give up.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I called in my version of Stanley,” Scott said. “Father Stephen’s coming over after dinner.”
Claire smiled.
“That’s good to see,” Scott said. “Try not to worry too much.”
“Keep me updated,” Claire said.
“I will.”
As soon as Claire got back to the salon the phone rang.
“Hi,” Hannah said when she answered, but she was whispering.
“What’s going on?” Claire said.
“Um, I may have put on a maid’s uniform, and I may have sneaked into Sloan’s room, and I may be hiding in her closet.”
/> “Hannah!” Claire said. “I told you not to do that.”
“Can you help me?” Hannah said. “She’s getting ready to come to The Bee Hive to let you do her hair but I’m not sure if the mean guy is going with her or not.”
“I’ll be right there,” Claire said.
When Claire arrived at the Inn she came in through the back entrance and sneaked through the kitchen. When she peeked into the front parlor she was just in time to see Sloan and the driver departing. Stanley was not with her. She asked the front desk clerk where Stanley was and the woman pointed upstairs.
“He said he didn’t want to be disturbed,” the woman said, “and I wouldn’t if I were you; he’s scary.”
“He knows me,” Claire said. “He won’t mind.”
Claire ran up the stairs two at a time while she tried to think up a plan, but when she reached the top she was as clueless as when she started. She knew which room every member of the entourage was in, which was a plus; unfortunately she’d have to pass Stanley’s to get to Sloan’s. She knocked lightly on Juanita’s door, and was relieved when Juanita answered with a whispered, “Oh, my God, Claire, come in here!”
Claire was used to the sight of the ex-pro football player nicknamed “Teeny” sitting on Juanita’s bed painting his toenails. He jumped up and gave her a bear hug.
“She just left,” he said. “Wasn’t she going to see you?”
“She was,” Claire said. “She left something in her room and she called and asked a maid to look for it, but the maid can’t find it, so she sent me to help the maid look. I don’t want Stanley to know I’m here so I need your help.”
Neither of them questioned her lie; Claire felt a little bit bad about that. They may have been comrades in arms while they worked for Sloan, but Claire knew either one of them would rat her out in a skinny minute to save their own hides.
Juanita led Claire out into the hallway, tip-toeing even though the floor was covered in plush carpet. She put her finger to her lips and gestured for Claire to follow her down the hall. Teeny stayed back in the hallway to watch for Stanley; he was supposed to make a ruckus if Stanley came out of his room.
As they passed Stanley’s room Claire could hear him through the door, talking on the phone. She was relieved they were staying in the new, thick-carpeted section of the hotel and not in the original part where the hundred-year-old wood floors creaked. Claire opened the door to Sloan’s room, quickly went inside, and closed the door behind her.
Claire opened the closet door. Hannah was huddle in a knot down in the corner of the closet with her hands covering her eyes and her head tucked forward, as if she was trying to make herself as small as she could, if not invisible.
“Don’t kill me, I’m the mother of a small child,” Hannah said.
“Hannah,” Claire hissed, “come on.”
Hannah uncovered her eyes and crawled out of the closet. She had on a crisp white maid’s uniform with her grubby hiking boots and brown socks.
“I thought I was a goner,” she said.
“We’re not out of the woods, yet,” Claire said. “I told them I was sent to help a maid look for something of Sloan’s, so if anybody asks, that’s what we’re doing.”
Claire slipped her cover off her smart phone and stuck it in her pocket. When she opened the door to the hallway Stanley was standing just outside.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Claire’s heart was pounding as she told the story she had manufactured and hoped Hannah looked convincing behind her. While she was explaining her presence Hannah walked past them carrying an armload of dirty towels, and for some reason waving a toilet brush in the air.
“Ah couldn’t find it nowhere, ma’am,” Hannah said in her version of a country hick accent. “Ah tried my bayest.”
Hannah kept going down the empty hallway, past the closed doors of Teeny and Juanita’s rooms.
‘So much for their help,’ Claire thought.
Claire was holding her breath, trying to look casually innocent, which in this case meant looking irritated at having to do Sloan’s bidding but not overly emotional about it, because it happened all the time.
“Well,” Stanley said impatiently. “Did you find it?”
Claire held up her smart phone, which was just like Sloan’s except for the pink rhinestone-studded case, the one she had pulled off and stuck in her pocket just moments before.
Stanley rolled his eyes.
“You know how she is,” Claire said.
Stanley shook his head and stood aside to let Claire pass. She knew all he’d have to do is call Sloan’s number, and if this phone didn’t ring he’d know it was a ruse. Claire’s heart was pounding as she walked quickly down the long hallway.
“Claire,” Stanley said, just as she reached the top of the stairs.
She was sure he saw her jump at the sound of her name, but when she turned he said, “I’ll see you at noon tomorrow.”
Claire waved and then ran down the steps. Hannah was in the downstairs staff bathroom changing back into her clothes.
“You are a danger to yourself and others,” Claire told her when she came out.
They left through the kitchen and then stood on the back porch while Claire put the cover back on her phone.
“She didn’t kill your friend,” Hannah said. “But she thinks Stanley might have done it.”
“Tell me everything she said.”
“Stanley came in and told her he had given you the papers to sign and he didn’t think you were going to give them any trouble. Sloan said she wanted you to come back to work for her and if he didn’t get you to do that then she was going to fire him. Stanley said he knew too much for her to fire him; if she knew what was good for her she’d shut that talk right up. Sloan goes, ‘Did you kill him?’ and Stanley goes, ‘No, I didn’t, we were just lucky.’ Then he left and she got a phone call. She was really mean to whoever it was she talked to; she said ‘you might as well enjoy it because there’s no turning back,’ whatever that means.”
“That was probably Carlyle.”
“It was,” Hannah said. “I heard her use that name.”
“Anything else?”
“Her feet are really small,” Hannah said. “I had some time to look at her shoes while I was in the closet. They’re like hooker heels for tots.”
“You were insane to take that risk,” Claire said. “But it’s good to know Sloan didn’t have him killed.”
“You think Stanley was telling the truth?”
Claire shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Hannah said. “I’m going to need a gallon of de-skunkerizer to get the smell of her perfume off me. It’s awful!”
“I better go back to The Bee Hive,” Claire said.
“If I were you I’d snatch her bald-headed,” Hannah said.
Claire laughed.
“I just may do that.”
Chapter Nine - Wednesday/Thursday
Claire ran back to the salon, where Stanley’s long sedan was parked out front. As Claire unlocked the salon door Sloan exited the car.
“If you leave that car parked out here someone will come in and check on me,” Claire said.
Sloan spoke to the driver and the car glided off down the street.
Claire had closed all the curtains earlier, so all she had to do was lock the front door behind Sloan.
“Okay,” she said to Sloan. “Let’s get this over with.”
Sloan shrugged off her jacket, loosened the collar of her blouse, and sat down in the hydraulic chair. Claire jacked up the chair and considered her former employer in the mirror.
“This is the last time,” Claire said, and then with painstaking dexterity, she went about the tedious task of separating Sloan’s famous hair from her head.
“Where’s your spare?” she asked her.
Sloan gestured at her enormous handbag.
“I’ll do that one, too,” Claire said. “But t
hey will only look good for about two weeks of wear, and only if you’re careful. That means that within a month you have to find someone else to do this for you. It wouldn’t hurt to get a few new pieces ordered.”
“You’ll have changed your mind by then,” Sloan said.
Claire was used to the appearance of Sloan’s bald head, but she wrapped a towel around it so Sloan wouldn’t get cold.
“I won’t,” Claire said. “My parents need me here.”
“I can hire someone,” Sloan said. “Hell, I’ll hire a staff and buy them the biggest house in town. We’ll call it The Sloan Merryweather Home for Claire’s Hick Parents.”
“When I first got here that was my inclination, too,” Claire said. “I forgot what it was like to have people in your life you can trust, who want to help you even if there’s nothing in it for them. The people in my family help each other and their neighbors because it’s the right thing to do, and not because they get great PR from it or expect some big reward. I have a really great family. I’m just glad they’re letting me back in.”
“In a month you’ll be begging for your job back.”
“No,” Claire said. “I’m staying.”
Sloan’s hair pieces were made from human hair; some of the finest craftsmanship Claire had ever seen. When properly seated and styled, it was impossible to detect they were fake. Unfortunately, Sloan had neither the skill nor inclination to learn to do anything so pedestrian for herself.
“Tell me about the redhead,” Sloan said. “She has gorgeous hair.”
“Maggie’s hair is actually very curly, to an almost unmanageable degree. It would make a beautiful hairpiece, but it would be a huge headache to maintain. Plus it’s too red for you. It would be a distracting change from your signature color.”
“I’m ready for a big change,” Sloan said. “Imagine me walking the red carpet with a wild titian mane and a baby bump; in an emerald-colored pre-Raphaelite dress, Carlyle on my arm…”
Claire flinched and Sloan honed in on it immediately.
“I would give him up if I could have you back.”
“I don’t want him anymore.”
Peony Street Page 23
