"He didn’t have any enemies that would kill him," Leander said.
"So he only had enemies who liked him?" I didn’t like her tone of voice and it wasn’t lost on Leander either.
Pete held up a hand. "Say you are right about him not having enemies. Fine, but he could’ve had regrets you don’t know about. Maybe there was some reason he was unhappy about his life that he kept hidden. People hide things all the time, and sometimes it gets to them."
Leander scowled. There was a stiffness to his posture I’d never seen before. "You two… you are talking like you know what happened. You weren’t there and neither of you even met him. So tell me, Pete Dawson… you know all this insightful stuff how?"
Pete looked flustered. "I don’t know anything. I’m just saying that we don’t know what happened."
"When it comes to Joe you don’t know a thing."
"But I know who he was, in the sense that he was a loner. He hid away from people. That’s not right. It’s not healthy."
"And selling moonshine is sinful as well as illegal," Nadine said. "That life rots the soul and when the soul is gone…"
I stared at her. I’d forgotten that Nadine was anti alcohol. She and Dolores both belonged to the church that Dr. Fimbus was running now. I hadn't been to church in quite a while, but remembered Nadine saying they’d hired a new preacher. Now I made the connection to Fimbus.
Leander stood up and walked to the door. "When I see the way some people act, judging people they never even knew, then knowing that someone was hiding away from them doesn’t seem so unhealthy to me. Not at all. It makes sense." He went to the door.
"Where are you going?" Pete asked as he put the dryer over Dolores head.
"I need some fresh air."
"Leander, I…"
"You were right when you said you don’t know anything, Pete. Too bad that doesn’t keep you from spouting off. Now I need to get a very healthy distance between myself and some people for a while."
"Leander…" But he was gone. Pete looked at me, distraught. "I didn’t mean…"
"You better give him some time, Pete. He doesn’t want to talk to you right now."
"But he’s…"
"Your significant other and best friend. I know that, but when someone you care about, someone that’s been around your entire life dies, it takes time to adjust to the fact. He went into shock and needed your support. Instead you jumped in and passed judgement on the guy. You’ve upset him more."
Nadine started to say something, but I glared at her and she shut her mouth tight. Snap. "Whether or not you approve of Old Joe’s lifestyle, he meant a great deal to Leander. That much is obvious and he has every right to expect support from you instead of a little lecture on how Joe lived a bad life."
"So you are saying I was being an ass."
I was, but saying that wasn’t going to help. "I’m saying that you were being a little insensitive and, for you, unusually judgmental. You care about Leander and it isn’t like you not to take his side."
He sighed, looking tired. "I was already having bad day. When it all came up I was feeling sorry for myself and not thinking clearly."
After Nadine left Pete got himself some coffee. "What’s the problem?" I asked. "What happened that has you feeling sorry for yourself and not Leander?"
"It’s stupid, really. I’m being stupid."
"About?"
"Ella quit this morning. Effective immediately. Turns out that a job that involves sweeping floors is not her idea of a career opportunity."
I wondered why that surprised him. "That doesn’t come as much of a shock and you shouldn’t take it personally. It’s a setback, but I’m not sure it’s something we should lose any sleep over. Her motivation wasn’t high."
"But it's just another example of… well, what’s personal is that I’m finding that the job of replacing Betina is turning out to be a lot harder than I expected," Pete told me. "I thought I could find someone easily."
I laughed. "Actually you found her easily enough; and you will find someone else. Take this as a lesson. You’ve learned something more about reading people. Now you need to use it. The people thing is the hardest part of running a business."
"And the process, going through the resumes and trying to figure out who might work out is hard work. Frankly, it is making me disappointed in people in general. Some of them actually lie. They don’t seem to think I’ll check their references. One woman listed people who’d never heard of her. The thing is, what it comes down to is that none of the people who’ve applied have Betina’s skills or attitude. Many don’t even like dealing with people."
I went over and patted his shoulder. "You can’t expect any of them to be Betina, Pete. You know you can’t really replace a person. Everyone is unique and you need to accept that whoever we get to do the job will be different. It has to be that way. Don’t think you can find a new Betina, no matter how much you want that."
"I miss her."
"I do too, but finding another Betina just isn’t possible and I think that in the back of your mind, or in your heart, that’s what you are trying to do. You need to give yourself permission to just find someone who can do the work. They’ll have their own strengths and weaknesses."
He grimaced. "I suppose so, but it doesn’t seem like any of the applicants have the skills we need."
"Think back. Betina didn’t have them when we hired her either. She was a high school kid with an eye for fashion and a bit of a surly attitude. We taught her how to cut hair, wash it, set it… you taught her as much as anyone. With that help she developed into who she is now. She found herself over time."
He sighed. "I suppose so, but it’s so hard to see who a person might become. These candidates are mostly self-absorbed young women."
"And that’s exactly how Betina was when we hired her. When she first started here I really didn’t think she’d survive a week."
"Are you kidding me?"
"Nope. I thought she was terrible and that her attitude was snotty. The first time I had her make coffee you would’ve thought I wanted her to reach into the sewers. Ultimately she got into the swing of things and proved me wrong. I was very happy that was the case—she turned out to be a pleasant surprise. She’s been a good employee and become a friend who added something to our world here."
Pete turned and smiled. "Then I’m looking at them all wrong. I should be trying to assess their potential."
"And for how well they will fit in for however long we might need them."
"What do I say about that part? I mean it’s kind of cruel to hire someone and then dump them soon after."
I’d given that some thought. "You’re hiring an assistant to see how he or she works out. You can’t make too many assumptions right now. When Betina comes back, if business is good, maybe we will still need an assistant; and there is the very real possibility she won’t come back." I saw him flinch. "So we are hiring an assistant because we need one now. If and when Betina comes back we will need to rethink everything. So stop thinking of the new person as a direct, but temporary replacement. If you hire someone thinking you need someone for a few weeks it won’t work out. Things are uncertain, but you need to think long term."
Nellie came in looking like she’d had a rough night. "I assume the gossip mill is going in high gear?"
"Not here, actually. Nadine told Pete and Leander the news and I told them a bit. But we’ve actually been talking about the problem of finding a replacement for Betina."
"Did that girl Ella quit already?" She smirked. "Can’t say I’m surprised about that." She looked around. "I am surprised that this place isn’t full." She looked over at Dolores who sat under the drying hood staring at a smart phone. She was typing furiously. "On the other hand, maybe our usefulness as rumor central has been replaced by a chat room."
Pete craned his neck to look at the phone. "She’s on Facebook."
"Dolores Pettigrew on Facebook…. and so the world evolves," I said.
&n
bsp; "Or mutates, at least," Nellie said. "Evolving implies that things are getting better."
"I’m not sure why I find that change disheartening. Whenever the place fills up for rumoring we don’t get more business. We just spent more money on coffee and snacks."
"But the social aspect of this place is part of the fun of doing this kind of work," Pete said. "There is something natural to me about cutting hair and hearing about the trouble someone’s kids got into, or how things are at work, or even listening to someone brag about their new car."
"The absence of a regular thing is a shock," Nellie said. "Ironically, I was dreading coming in today because I thought I’d be swamped with people wanting to hear the gory details, insisting we tell them what we saw and what we think about it. It seems strange to be here with nothing going on but Dolores relaying second- or third-hand details online."
I had to agree. "It’s a not-so-brave new world."
"I’m doing Mrs. Ourso’s nails in half an hour," she said. "I suppose we can talk about the feed store business and the weather."
Pete shifted nervously on his feet. "I don’t have anyone coming in for an hour. Is it okay if I dash out until then."
"Fence mending?"
"Something like that." He looked concerned. "I need to see if this particular fence can be mended right away."
"Go ahead."
"Thanks."
"What’s that about?" Nellie asked as he left.
"He had a little tiff with Leander. Pete said some disapproving things about moonshiners without thinking. Nadine was talking about Old Joe’s life making his death unsurprising and Pete agreed with part of it."
"And Leander took offense."
"Pete didn’t realize how close they were."
Nellie shrugged. "I’ve never known Leander to talk about himself a lot. He’s a private guy. Apparently he’s even reticent with Pete."
"So Pete’s words suggesting Joe might’ve killed himself or had enemies stung Leander. He said Pete knew nothing about Joe and he stomped out."
"Not many people knew much at all about the old man."
"Except Rudy."
"Except Leander and my Rudy."
"Have the cops talked to him yet? You’d said he was supposed to be at Joe’s."
She shook her head. "No. Rudy told me he was there earlier but had to leave before we arrived."
"He really should go in and tell them what he knows."
Nellie gave me an incredulous look. "Rudy volunteer information to the police?"
"He has nothing to hide."
"Him going in would be suspicious. Besides, told me he had something important to do this morning. It had to be done right away. I imagine they’ll talk to him once Chief Tanner decides how they’ll handle this."
"How they’ll handle it?"
"Joe’s cabin is outside the city, so not within their jurisdiction."
"Which means…"
"Unless the coroner rules it definitely a suicide and they close the case, we can expect a visit from your copper boyfriend." She said the word "copper" like they did on those BBC murder mysteries, teasing me.
"That copper Woodley isn’t really…."
"Don’t give me that," she said.
Mrs. Ourso came in just then. She held up a hand. "Good morning, ladies. I have two important questions for you."
"Go ahead," I said.
"The first is: today is the right day for my appointment isn’t it Nellie?"
"It is and you are right on time."
"What a relief. I ran around yesterday thinking it was one day when it was another and was worried that I was mixing them up again."
"And the second question?"
"Is Investigator Woodley going to find out who killed poor Joe?"
"That’s the rumor," Nellie said.
"That’s odd." She screwed up her face.
"Why is it odd?"
"Well, of course I heard he was in town…"
"Already?"
"Or on his way, I’m not certain. And that’s confusing."
"Why?"
"Because he only ever comes to town to investigate a murder."
"A suspicious death works too," Nellie said. "Or to court Savannah."
Mrs. Ourso grinned. "Or that. So unless someone has a hot date, the authorities must think Old Joe’s death might’ve been a murder. That would be surprising because there wasn’t anything about that on Facebook. All the posts were about Old Joe’s suicide."
I snorted. "So digital gossip is just as fallible as salon gossip."
"But it has pictures," she said. "Someone posted the mugshot from when Joe was arrested for bootlegging at sixteen. He was surprisingly good looking."
Nellie indicated her chair. "Well, get your hands in the soak while it’s warm and after we do your nails, you can post an update or whatever it is you do, can’t you?"
"I could tweet it right now," she said. "That’s nearly as good."
"Think how much better it will be if you post it later. You might learn something new and, if you wait a while, maybe Investigator Woodley will come in and you can add a picture of Savannah being courted by Investigator Woodley with your post."
Her face brightened. She held up a hand. "That sounds wonderful. By the way, while I’m soaking, could you find out if there are any of the nail jewelry companies who make little gold feed sacks? They would be so cute."
"I’ve already looked at most of styles the companies offer," Nellie said. "I’m afraid you are out of luck with feed sacks. I can get lots of different shapes, including dollar signs, but no feed sacks."
"What a shame," Mrs. Ourso said. Nellie stood behind her giving me that look—the one that says ‘is she nuts?’ "But you said you can get dollar signs?"
"Not today. I’d have to order them."
"Do that. If they come in then next month we can paint my nails green and put the dollar signs on them. That will be fun."
"All of them?"
"Three on each hand." She chuckled. "So people will see them when they check out."
Behind her back I wrinkled my nose, making Nellie laugh. "I’ll order them today."
And so we worked our way into a typical day, the normality of life in Knockemstiff, with its mix of the trivial, the dramatic, the happy and the tragic. Rudy was dodging the police for the moment, Joe’s death was officially a suspicious death, Leander and Pete were having a quarrel that might or might not be serious, and for whatever reason Mrs. Ourso was intending to have her nails painted green and have Nellie put dollar signs on them.
It was typical, and wearing. Even the unusual, the shift to gossiping online was somehow taxing.
"Are you okay?" Nellie asked, concern wrinkling her nose.
"Fine. Just a lot on my mind. But nothing as worrying as what you are dealing with."
# # #
"Old Joe was getting along in years, you know." That was the opinion of Dafny (Widah) Jenkins, who was Pete’s landlady and the current occupant in his chair.
"He wasn’t that old, Dafny," Sanders said. "From what I hear the man was younger than me and you."
"Don’t you lump us together, Sanders Bloomington. I’m two years younger ’n you. And maybe he wasn’t old as us, but he lived rough. He was out there where a person needs to be fit just to do the daily chores. He had to chop wood for his fire in winter, haul water from a well…"
"He was doing real well," Nellie said. "Strong as an ox."
"Oxen don’t fare all that well in a swamp," Margie, who was head waitress at the BaconUp put in. "And you never know about folks. He mighta felt poorly and not shown it. Stubborn old man that one."
"You knew him?"
"Well enough. Back in the day he used to work for my Daddy off ’n on. I got to know him. Sometimes he needed to earn a little cash and would come by to see if we had any odd jobs. I’d take him water when he’d stop for lunch and we’d talk about this and that. I hadn’t seen him much in years though. Probably not since Daddy died, now I think
about it."
"Even if he was sick, he wouldn’t be thinking of killing himself," Nellie said. "Ask Leander."
"He’s kinda not seeing this clearly," Dafny said. "I heard him and Pete arguing outside the house and that boy is caught up in some kind of hero worship. Course, it’s sensible seeing as when Leander was little Joe used to go by his family’s shack when he’d shot some game and Leander’s Mommy would cook it for them all. There were some rough times when that made a big difference to folks."
"How do you know that?" I asked.
She chuckled. "Joe worked for my husband at times too, back in the day. I remember a couple of times Lester asking Joe to do a job of work and him saying that he couldn’t that day. He’d caught himself something that was good eatin’ and he intended to clean it and take it over there."
It was early in the day. It seemed that the appeal of getting and passing along rumors online had suffered a setback. The salon was crowded and the stories were flying.
"I thought all this stuff was online," I said.
"You can’t see faces," Dafny said. "You can’t tell if a body is funning you or saying the truth."
"And people get confused about who said what," Margie said.
"And you have to buy your own coffee," Sanders added.
So perhaps the transition to the new media was going to take longer in Knockemstiff, but it would certainly be embraced by the next generation, even if this one resisted.
And today was shaping up as one where everyone was determined to share a story about old Joe. That so many people had something to say about him struck me as curious. I’d grown up in this town without ever meeting the man or even hearing much about him. It had probably been years since I’d heard anyone mention his name, until he and Rudy bought up all the Karo syrup in town. It was like Nellie, who was being unusually tight-lipped, said, none of them really knew Old Joe, and most of the stories were either very superficial or third-hand tales.
I find it interesting what people think constitutes front page news although, naturally enough everyone considers the important stuff to be what strikes closest to home. Joe dying reminded everyone of their encounters with him and ways he might’ve affected their life. All the gaps, the years when he was keeping to himself, evaporated. Listening, you’d think he’d been a significant part of their daily lives; he certainly was part of the fabric that made up the Knockemstiff I’d grown up in, and even without knowing him, his life had affected mine. Now even more so.
False Nails and Tall Tales (The Teasen and Pleasen Hair Salon Cozy Mystery Series Book 5) Page 7
