Murder on the Ol' Bunions (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery)

by S. Dionne Moore

As Sasha wrapped my hat in the tissue paper nest Olivia had made for it, Olivia said something that caused my heart to drop to my feet. “Wonder what she’s up to. That’s the second time this week she’s clutched that envelope to her chest like a newborn. Must be sending something to her mother in Denver.”

  “I feel like a starch can,” Hardy grumped. His pants swooshed with every step. “And I can’t believe you made me get a suit. What do I need a suit for? I don’t work anymore.”

  “It was the suit or the leather. You made the choice.”

  “I chose the leather.” He opened the back door of the car and let the bags spill onto the seat.

  “Only because Livy whistled. The suit was life, the leather death.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Suppose I’d like to live to see my grandbaby.”

  “My feelings exactly. You’ve got the suit. Breathe and enjoy.”

  One package fell to the ground. He picked it up and crammed it in with the others.

  I watched his hind-end wag around as he arranged the packages. “Why don’t you put all that in the trunk?”

  “No need, I got them all in.” He gave a mighty shove of the bags, backed out of the way, and slammed the back door quick. “See?”

  Hardy and I crossed the street to Regina’s, him swooshing the whole way. “I’m needing to go to the police station and check in with Chief.”

  “You go on ahead.” He pointed with his thumb. “I’ll sit in here and wait for you.”

  Now I could have warned him about the pre-weekend crowd. The majority of womenfolk got their hair done on Fridays, so they could look nice all weekend, especially for Sunday. If he wanted to sit with a room full of gossiping women, let him, I had fifty minutes before my hair appointment and needed to find out if Regina’s alibi checked out.

  Sunshine made it a pleasant walk, and a new pair of hose made it bearable. Slacks never worked for me cause they rode up my inner thighs, then the skin chafed.

  “Good morning, LaTisha.” Chief greeted me from a desk covered with everything from potato chip bags to a bottle of toilet cleaner. I made a point of staring at the desk with raised brows. Chief chuckled. “I’m also janitor of this place.” He motioned to the toilet cleaner. “Guess I got distracted and instead of putting it away, I carried it out here. Mac’s a lot neater, huh?”

  “No doubt you have a lot on your mind.”

  Chief nodded, brows pinched together. “I received the results from the fingerprint test. Regina’s prints were all over that envelope. A partial shoeprint didn’t yield anything other than it was a woman’s shoe.” He released a sigh. “Which isn’t unusual being it was a store.”

  “No other test results?”

  “They took several samples of other items, but Officer Cameron said everything got pushed aside when three other murders took place Tuesday afternoon, so they’re backed up. I’m going to try to make a trip over there to get things stirred up.”

  “Have you questioned her?”

  “Regina? Not yet. With her mom not doing well and all . . . well, I haven’t talked to her.” His fingers began a dance on the surface of the desk. “I was hoping you could do that for me. She might open up more to you than she would me.”

  His dancing fingers had my brain jumping in time. This boy was nervous. Agitated. Something had happened to make him so shy. I intended on finding out what that something was.

  He had slicked back his hair today, taming its normal tousled appearance. As his fingers bounced, a suspicion bloomed in my head. Regina Rogane probably was about the same age as the chief.

  “You thinking ‘bout courting Regina or something?”

  Never in my life had I seen a white man blush so hard. His face flushed so red I thought he might be holding his breath. He sat up a little straighter and crumpled the potato chip bag, tossing it toward the trashcan and began clearing his desk of everything as if his life’s work were to compete against Mr. Clean. “She’s a nice lady,” is all he offered.

  Now I’d seen this before. RBCD is what I call it—rapid brain cell depletion. It’s the disease that affects every man and woman in the throes of like—love, whatever. They start acting like all the sense they ever had was the pennies in their pocket.

  Chief’s long fingers made short work of the rest of the garbage, until only the toilet bowl cleaner remained. He stared at it before finally raising beseeching eyes to me.

  “What do I do?”

  “Cupid I’m not, honey. You gonna have to work this thing out yourself.”

  “I feel like such a fool walking in there and questioning her on Marion’s death. Regina wouldn’t do such a thing. I know she wouldn’t.”

  I crossed my arms. “You crushing hard, boy. But you got a job to do. She know how you feel?”

  Another wave of red boiled his ears. He shifted in his seat. “No. I don’t know if she’s. . .”

  “You best be finding out, don’t you think?”

  His eyes went huge. “I can’t come right out and ask her. Not now.”

  “How else you thinking you going to find out? Osmosis? And how is it you know her momma’s not doing well? Talking to her on the phone?”

  “I was eating at Mark’s the other night and she was talking to Tammy. You know, girl talk type of stuff. Tammy has a new boyfriend. Then Regina started crying and I heard her say something about Denver, so I figured it had to do with her mother.”

  “Well, you don’t worry your head. I’m guessin’ we’ll cover a lot of territory while she gives me my new hairstyle.” I touched my hair and gave an affirming nod. “Lots of territory.”

  “And LaTisha. . .” His fingers stopped tapping on the surface, his stare unwavering. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t let on about me. . . you know.”

  “My lips is sealed.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  With a good thirty minutes left before my appointment, I decided to go over to the school and let the librarian know the books were coming, but I needed a couple of hours to go through them. Too, I hoped I might have the chance to see Dana in action at the school.

  I did my best to move fast to get over to the school before it let out for the week, making it in time to hear the bell ring. If I’d had a red flag, I’d waved it at the charging groups of youngsters coming at me down the concrete walk, yelling their greetings to me as they galloped past.

  “You need some help with that box, Mrs. Barnhart?” Teddy Cooper asked. A former Sunday school student, he was now a twelfth grader ready to take on the world. Scary. Deep down though, I felt a stir of satisfaction that he would offer his help and gladly handed over the box of books to the shaggy young man.

  “You can handle that much better than I can. Getting this body of mine from place to place is enough to wear me out. How you been? You gonna miss playing ball at that fancy college?”

  Teddy played forward on the basketball team and had for four years. Known for his speed, he’d done his share of damage on visiting teams during the season.

  “Naw, Mrs. B.” Teddy shook his head and hefted the box to his shoulder. “I’m done playing ball. I’ve gotta really hit the books hard. Won’t have time for sports.”

  As we passed through the doors and headed toward the centrally located library of the school, Teddy chatted on about his plans for a degree in computer science.

  The green double doors of the library opened as we neared, and Sam Lightner, sloppy jock and proud of it, appeared, his shoulders slumped in perpetual bad posture, his pants riding low, ripped and torn.

  Sam lifted his head, his eyes flickered from me to Teddy, lingering on the boy a minute longer than necessary. Neither said a word. Sam looked away and kept walking.

  “What was that all about?” I ventured.

  Teddy didn’t answer me. We watched Sam enter room ten. Dana Letzburg’s room. “Good,” I said, pleased. “That boy could use some tutoring.”

  Teddy turned his gaze on me. “It isn’t tutoring that got him through Mrs. Letzburg’s Engli
sh class. Uh—” He compressed his lips and turned his head away. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Now I haven’t raised kids for nothing. Guilt, in its many forms, is a universal emotion betrayed by sudden stutters in dialogue and quick stops in speech. Then there’s the way the eyes dart around or fasten on an object.

  “If there’s anything happening that shouldn’t be, don’t you think it should be known? Is that why Sam was sending you those silent daggers a few minutes ago?”

  Teddy wiped the hair off his forehead. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  “Seems to me I taught you about honesty in Sunday school.”

  He slumped. “Guess it doesn’t matter now that we’re getting ready to graduate. With Mrs. Letzburg catching Valorie cheating and all—”

  “Did you know Valorie was cheating?”

  He shrugged but didn’t meet my eyes. “We went out a couple of times. She hated English. Who doesn’t? We studied together for this really hard test. She got an A. I still got a C.”

  “If you studied, why was that such a surprise?”

  I didn’t miss the scarlet streaks that sprouted up his neck. He ducked his head even lower. And having been privy to the raging hormones of youth seven times over, understanding dawned.

  “So you knew she’d cheated.”

  “Yeah, I guessed. I broke up with her after that.”

  “What’s this have to do with Sam?”

  “Kind of a double-standard thing going. Mrs. Letzburg catches Dana cheating, yet the entire basketball team knows that she sells grades. That’s what Sam’s doing now. He got an F on a test on diagramming sentences that was a big portion of our grade.”

  My eyes were drawn to the doorway of room ten. I wanted to have a look. “You’re awful brave to let this be known.”

  His chest rose as he straightened. “You’re going to tell, aren’t you?”

  I nodded. “Think it’s only right, don’t you?” I pointed to the box at his feet. “I got another box of those in the car. Think you can be a good boy and fetch them for me?”

  When he disappeared from sight, I edged down the hallway toward Dana’s room, checking through the window of the classrooms as I passed, all of them empty except for two teachers deep in conversation in one and a teacher replacing books on a shelf in another.

  Teddy’s revelation disgusted me. How could Dana do such a thing? If there is one thing I value, it’s a good education. For someone in a career designed to help young people be the best they can be, I found Dana’s deed sickening.

  I stopped at room ten, right before I got to the window. Some sixth sense demanded caution. I peeked around the edge of the window that gave a clear view of room ten and the people within.

  Dana sat at her desk, her fingers dancing on the desktop. Sam stood in front of the desk, his wallet open. Though I couldn’t hear her, she waved the wallet away and favored Sam with a serious expression. Her pencil hovered over the grade book a second before she erased a spot and wrote something.

  A huge grin split Sam’s face.

  Dana dug around in her desk and slipped an envelope across its surface toward Sam. He took it and tucked it away in one of the many pockets in his jeans before turning toward the door.

  I jerked back, turned, and hustled myself down that hall as fast as my legs could go. I tucked away my observation to share with the chief later.

  I landed in Regina’s shop amidst a flow of babble, a few minutes late. No biggie. She had herself a full house and would probably be delighted not to have the added pressure of another patron showing up.

  “Men are the worst.”

  Lynn Crawford, resident loudmouth, had a whole bunch to say and she wasn’t squeamish about talking loud from her perch underneath the hairdryer. “Worse than babies, Madge, when they’re sick you might as well shut the house down. You’re not going to get anything done with them laying out in the middle of the living room moaning and groaning about how awful they feel.”

  “Yeah.”

  Then all eyes in the shop landed on Hardy, who slid even lower in his seat. The flash of sunlight on the door as it closed behind me, dragged the attention away from Hardy, to me. By the look of things, if I hadn’t come in when I had, another group glare might have had Hardy dripping right out onto the floor.

  He jolted upright when he saw me and pleaded with his eyes for rescue.

  “You all ganging up on my man?” I smiled my words at the three women—Regina, noticeably absent from the group. Madge Kendry and Debra Zoe, along with Lynn, laughed.

  “You came in the nick of time,” Madge said. “We had Hardy on the hot seat.”

  Poor Hardy. Sometimes Madge brought her husband with her, and only with Nick present would Hardy usually enter the salon. Served him right for taking off without me.

  Debra swept back her over-long bangs. “Regina said you were up for a new style. What are you going to have done?”

  I ambled over to the chair next to Hardy and patted his knee as I sat down. “Gonna have my twists taken out. She’s gonna show me what to do. Wanted micro-breads but I’m not sure I’m up to handling all that hair.”

  “Shayna sure looked good in them.” Madge said from her perch in Regina’s chair, pink cape in place, one side of her black hair trimmed, the other side untouched. She jerked her chin to indicate the back room. “Regina got a phone call. She was saying she was already behind.”

  “I’m only due for a trim,” Debra spoke up. “Lynn just needs a brush out.”

  “I’m powerful hungry,” Hardy whispered in my ear. “You gonna make me stay here the whole time? I’ve suffered enough.”

  “You be still and wait. If Regina’s thinking it’ll be too long, I’ll reschedule.”

  Madge leaned forward to make eye contact with Hardy. “Nick’s over at Mark’s if you want to wait for LaTisha there.”

  Hardy shifted closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Oh, they’s all sugar and sweet cream to me now. Why didn’t you tell me how much they love to torment?”

  “Why didn’t you just wait for me? And don’t even think about moving out of that chair. You twitch and I’ll strip off my pantyhose and tie you there.”

  A soft gasp made me turn. All eyes were on the doorway of the backroom, where Regina stood, eyes puffy and red. Lynn turned off the hairdryer. Regina wiped moisture from her cheeks. “I’m sorry, ladies, I have to close shop.” Her voice caught and she cleared her throat on a sob. “Momma’s taken a turn for the worse. I need to get there.”

  My heart churned in agony for the young woman.

  Lynn slid the dryer into the upright position and began to pluck pins from her hair. “I’ll give myself a comb-out, Regina. You go on and get on the road.”

  “And I can reschedule,” Debra offered as she crossed the room to embrace the younger woman. “I lost my own mother three months ago. You’ll let us know if there’s anything we can do?”

  Regina nodded.

  Lynn tossed the curlers into the bin Regina used and the pins into a drawer. She sent Regina an air kiss and left.

  The rip of Velcro signaled Madge’s emancipation. “There’s worse than going around looking like a before-and-after ad.” She touched Regina’s shoulder. “Send Eloise our love, okay?”

  By now, Regina’s tears had started to flow again. My mind ran the gamut, from disappointment over not being allowed to ask her questions, to concern for the girl, to the chief’s affection for the young woman. . .

  The chief.

  A plan formed in my mind as I grabbed Hardy’s hand and tugged him to his feet. “You come with us, Regina. We’ll get you over to your momma’s real fast, the chief will make sure of that.”

  Only one thing almost quashed my ultimate plan to give Regina a chance to have some time with Chief Conrad.

  Hardy.

  We walked to the station and I went inside to explain the situation. It didn’t take much to convince the chief that now was a good time for him to go into Denver a
nd check in with the state police. He could drop Regina off en route—since she was in no condition to drive herself anyhow. The chief acted like a small boy who just bought his first puppy. But when I followed him outside, Hardy stood at the passenger’s side door of the officer’s personal car (white with lots of antennas.) I sent Hardy eye-daggers and kept jerking my head to one side in hopes he would get the idea.

  Chief blocked me from view as he greeted Regina and said something that reduced his tough-cop persona to that of silly putty. I stepped around Chief’s back and gave Hardy another head-jerk direction. He narrowed his eyes at me and looked concerned.

  “Honey, you okay?”

  Whatever drivel the chief had been driveling, both he and Regina turned their attention to me. I took a step back and grinned broadly at them. “No, sweetie, just needing to talk to you a bit. Privately. In the back seat.”

  Hardy swelled up like a bloated toad and winked at the chief. “Woman can’t get enough of me. Guess I better sit in the back.”

  As smooth as butter, Chief gestured Regina toward the passenger side and pulled open the door.

  I slung open the back door, spread my hand on Hardy’s head and squashed him onto the seat. “You’re so right, baby. You look so fine, I’m out of my mind.”

  I slammed the door on Hardy’s murmured, “Amen.”

  I rounded the back of the car as Chief went around the front. Our eyes met.

  “Now play this thing smooth,” I counseled. “How ‘bout you let me ask the questions.”

  “Do you think it’s a good time? Maybe we should wait.”

  I shook my head. “Leave it to me.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed and he ducked into the car.

  Regina remained quiet through the first thirty minutes, and I allowed her the time to regain her composure. My blood thrilled when I heard chief whisper across to Regina, “You okay? Your mother’s a lucky woman. You’ve cared for her with more loyalty than most kids would care for their parents.”

  Regina sniffed, her profile showed the trembling of her lower lip. “She’s all I’ve got.”