by Gayle Leeson
Gee, she was awfully young to have such a jaded outlook. I didn’t know whether to feel bad for her or glad that her maturity was likely to keep her safe. “I will.”
“Oh, hey, my mom said it’s all right for me to come work with you on Saturdays and that if you’ll pick me up, she can come get me after work.”
“Great. I’m happy we’ll be working together.”
“Me too. We can use the extra money.” She wrinkled her forehead. “Back to Mr. Kramer, do be careful like I said, but don’t worry about him too awful much. Kristen Holbrook thinks you’re awesome, and her parents practically run this place. She’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”
“Zoe, I need to tell you something, and I hope you won’t be angry with me,” I said gently. “I saw in Sandra Kelly’s planner that she’d made a note to call Child Protective Services about you.”
She nodded. “They came and went. Mom was furious with Ms. Kelly for interfering, but CPS didn’t find anything wrong. Just because we don’t live like the Holbrooks doesn’t mean their lives are better. Right?”
“Absolutely.” I paused. “I’m not so sure the Holbrooks’ lives are as enviable as we might think either.”
AS I WORKED ON THE wardrobe costume, I decided I needed to know what Sandra Kelly and Fergus Kramer had argued about on the first evening Grandpa and I came here to Winter Garden High. She’d berated the man in front of several people, so someone would surely know. Since Dr. Holbrook and Mr. Kramer were such good friends, I thought maybe Kristen would know.
I got the opportunity to talk with Kristen later on while I was waiting for Grandpa to join me in the parking lot.
“See you, Amanda!” she called to me. “Thanks again for suggesting the extensions.”
“You’re welcome. Do you have a second before you leave?”
“Yeah,” she said, as she walked over to me. “What’s up?”
“Mr. Kramer came to say hello earlier this evening. He went out of his way to be nice to me, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he and Ms. Kelly were fussing about the first evening I was here.”
“Oh, I remember that. He was mad because Ms. Kelly wanted to be in charge of the finances for the play,” Kristen said. “She told him she was in charge of the production and wanted to oversee every aspect of it. And he accused her of not trusting him. She said that had nothing to do with it.”
“Do you believe it did?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Ms. Kelly was nice, but she was a control freak, and Mr. Kramer has always been a mealy-mouthed little man. It could’ve been that Ms. Kelly was just trying to push him around.” She smiled. “Apparently, she didn’t realize my mom was involved. Ms. Kelly might’ve succeeded in dragging Mr. Kramer around by the nose, but nobody pushes Dr. Maria Holbrook around. Nobody.”
THAT NIGHT, I HAD A dream. Someone was smoking a cigarette and touched it to Sandra Kelly’s hair. The poor woman’s entire head went up in flames. As I stood there gaping at Sandra, the person—who was nothing more than a shadowy figure—held the cigarette out toward me. The message was clear. I was next.
As you might imagine, I was shaken up by that nightmare. That’s why I left Jazzy at home on Friday morning and went straight to Indulgences Beauty Salon. Someone there had answers about Sandra’s death. I was sure of it.
There was a skinny, pink-haired girl standing against the building vaping when I walked up. The smoke smelled like pina colada.
“Hi,” I said. “Do you work here?”
“Yes. What do you need?” She appraised my appearance. “Some light blue streaks would look awesome in your hair.”
“Thanks, but I’m wondering who did Sandra Kelly’s hair last Thursday. She was supposed to see Karen, but Karen was out sick.”
Pinkie shrugged. “I don’t know, hon. I don’t work on Thursdays. All I know is that when I came in Friday morning, my vape juice bottle was on the floor, and it was empty. I pitched a fit. I can understand someone knocking it off accidentally, but whoever did it needed to pay for it.”
“I agree. People can be so inconsiderate.”
“You’re telling me,” she said.
“Thanks for your help.” I turned to get back into my car.
“If you change your mind about those streaks, come one back. Ask for Jessica.”
I promised I would. Then I got into my car and drove to the police station.
“I need to see Detective Cranston,” I told the desk clerk.
The detective had overheard me and came out of his office. “Come on back, Ms. Tucker.”
He said it with the resigned air of someone patronizing a pest, but I didn’t care.
I followed Detective Cranston to his office and sat on the chair in front of his desk. “I won’t take up but a minute of your time, but there’s something I feel you should know.”
Sitting down behind the desk, he said, “Shoot.”
“This morning, I went back to Indulgences Beauty Salon to—”
“Ms. Tucker, please stop doing my job for me. I’m more than capable of—”
“Hear me out.” I could interrupt as well as he could. Maybe better.
He flipped his palms. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you. I went back there this morning and there was a pink-haired girl standing outside vaping. Now, she didn’t work on Thursday, but she said when she came back in on Friday, her bottle of vape juice was empty.” I carefully watched his expression. It didn’t change. Did that mean he knew this already? “The person who killed Sandra Kelly was the stylist who colored her hair that afternoon.”
“Are you finished, Ms. Tucker?” He stood.
“Yes.” I stood and moved toward the door, feeling sorry I’d wasted my time.
“Ms. Tucker?”
I turned back to face him.
“I do appreciate your time and your diligence,” he said. “But police work is dangerous and should be left to the professionals.”
{ }
Chapter Twenty-Nine
W
hen I got to work, I learned that I’d caused a small-scale panic there. Could I not do anything right today? Connie, Frank, and Ella said they were worried when I wasn’t there at my usual time.
Connie immediately noticed I didn’t have the cat carrier and asked, “Where’s Jasmine? Did something happen to her?”
I assured everyone that I was fine and so was Jazzy. “I simply had an errand I had to take care of this morning.” I was truly grateful for everyone’s care and concern, but I wasn’t that late.
And then I unlocked the door to the atelier and had to face the wrath of Max.
“Where in blazes have you been? You’re more than an hour late! I have been walking the floors worried sick about you.”
“Slow down, Mom,” I said softly. “Everything is fine.”
“Everything is not fine, and oh, good grief, I do sound like Mother. What a disaster.” She stopped raving and laughed. “Well, shucks. The next time you’re gonna be late, let me know, would you?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“So, where’ve you been anyway?” she asked.
I told her about going to the salon and then to Detective Cranston’s office. “I know they’re already looking into the salon—or, at least, I hope they are, but I know that whoever killed Sandra was the person who did her hair that night.” I frowned. “And I’m worried it was Diana.”
“I’m afraid you might be right. But don’t jump to conclusions. Just because her husband was stealing from the school, and Sandra Kelly was trying to pinch him for it...” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Diana definitely bumped off Sandra Kelly.”
Before we could discuss it further, Frank came into the atelier with a metal contraption. “Good morning. I’m ready to work on the ottoman if you are.” He held up the apparatus so that I could see it was the bustle-type thing we’d discussed.
I grinned. “I think this is exactly what we need to do this morning.”
Frank and I worked on the ottoman until after lunch. It
wasn’t until after we’d finished that Frank ate the lunch Ella had packed him that morning. He offered to share, but I told him I’d brought something. I had—a granola bar. Besides, I was getting down to the wire on these costumes, and I didn’t have time to waste more time than I already had today. Going by Indulgences and the police station had eaten up too much of my day.
Once Frank and I completed the ottoman costume, I finished the wardrobe and then started on the teacup. Joey Conrad would be at the school tonight, and I wanted to get his costume done so I could be certain it wasn’t too long.
By the time I looked up at the clock, it was nearly closing time. I called Grandpa and asked him to go on to the school without me.
“I’ll be there,” I promised. “I’m running a little late is all, trying to get Joey’s costume finished.”
IT WAS DARK WHEN I pulled into the parking lot, so I took a space near a streetlight. A car drove into the lot behind me. I paid little attention to it, knowing there were other parents and volunteers coming and going. Especially with the middle school students in attendance tonight, there would be a lot of traffic.
Getting out of my car, I heard someone call my name. I looked around to see Diana Kramer.
Trying to hide the prickle of fear I felt, I called, “Hi, Diana!”
“We need to talk,” she said, approaching my car.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s go inside here and talk in the auditorium.”
“No. We need to talk here.” She was almost face to face with me now. “I know you’ve been asking a lot of questions at the salon.”
“I have. I...” I struggled with what to say. “I think someone there might’ve spoken to Sandra Kelly before she died. They might know what frame of mind she was in or if she said anything that would lead to finding her killer.”
“Why is that any of your business?” she asked.
“The woman worked alongside your husband. I’d think you’d be concerned about who killed her too.”
“I’m not. No one else has anything to fear.” She brought a pistol out from behind her back. “Except maybe you.”
“You should turn yourself in, Diana,” I said. “Detective Cranston knows everything.” Did he? Maybe. Anyway, it sounded good...like he could be on his way right this minute to arrest Diana. “Why would you go to such lengths to cover up your husband’s theft? Was it really that big a deal?”
“I never meant to kill Sandra Kelly,” she hissed. “I only meant to make her sick and scare her a little. She was so high and mighty when she came into Indulgences and told me she knew Fergus was stealing. Well, you know what? Fergus didn’t steal a thing. It was me.”
“You?” My eyes darted from side to side, looking for a way out of this precarious position.
“Yes, me. I’d take a little money here and there from Fergus’s petty cash box and leave a receipt to explain the missing funds.” She tilted her head slightly. “That was easy enough, and since I’d been forging his signature for years on various documents, I found that writing a check on the school’s account wasn’t that hard either.”
“What did Fergus say when he noticed the discrepancies?” I asked.
“Nothing. He didn’t find out. I was careful and never took too much at once. Fergus...well, he took his job with a grain of salt and never looked too closely at the books,” she said. “And then Sandra Kelly came around making accusations—she was going to ruin my marriage just like she’d destroyed her own.”
“Were you two arguing at the salon? I mean, why would she stay in your chair if she knew you were angry with her?” My hand went involuntarily to my hair. “I’d be afraid you’d cut some of my hair off out of spite if you were angry at me.”
She snickered. “Don’t think I wasn’t tempted. But then I saw Jessica’s vape juice. And, anyway, Sandra and I weren’t arguing. I was sweet as pie, asking Sandra to please let me talk to Fergus before she did. I told her there had to be a reasonable explanation for everything. I had her feeling sorry for me—the blindly devoted wife.”
“If Sandra’s death was an accident, Diana, then surely the police will take that into consideration. You need to tell them your side of the story.”
“Good try,” she said, “but I can’t let you ruin my life any more than I could let Sandra. I really wish you’d have just left well enough alone.” She raised the gun.
Widening my eyes, I looked over her shoulder and said, “Detective Cranston!”
When Diana glanced to the side, I grabbed the arm with the gun. She wasn’t very big, and I was able to keep her arm pointed up in the air. It was a struggle though, until someone came up behind Diana and pulled her other arm up behind her back.
“Keep moving, and I’ll break your arm.”
Diana stopped fighting, and I did too, anxious to see who’d come to my aid. It was Maggie Flannagan.
“I’ve called 911,” she said. “The police are on their way.”
As if on cue, I heard sirens in the distance.
Within minutes, the police had Diana Kramer handcuffed and in the back of a squad car. Everyone who’d been inside the school had come outside to witness all the excitement. And, after reassuring Grandpa I was fine, I went in search of Maggie Flannagan.
She was standing near her car with Zoe.
“Hey,” I said. “Thank you for saving my life.”
“Ah, you had her,” Maggie said. “Thanks for giving my kid a job.”
Quoting Casablanca, Zoe looked from her mom to me. “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
SATURDAY MORNING AS I drove to pick up Zoe, I felt as if I had sawdust in my eyes. I hadn’t had much sleep the night before. Between Grandpa fussing over me, my going online to fill Max in on the situation, and getting a call from Jason after he’d heard about the altercation in the parking lot, I hadn’t gotten into bed until late. And then I’d lain awake thinking about Diana Kramer, her husband, and Sandra Kelly.
I pulled up to Zoe’s modest home, and Maggie waved to me from the door. I waved back. Moments later, Zoe came barreling out the door.
“Last night was crazy.” Seeing Jazzy’s carrier on the backseat as she got into the car, she said, “Hi, Cat. What’s her name again?”
“Jasmine, but I call her Jazzy most of the time.”
“Cool.” She buckled her seatbelt and waved goodbye to her mom.
During our conversation last night, I’d reminded Max that I was bringing Zoe to work this morning, and I’d warned her that I wouldn’t be able to talk with her until after Zoe left. She’d said she was all right with that, but I knew she’d pop in to observe.
I was right.
When we walked into Designs on You, Max was sitting on the worktable swinging her legs. “Hello, darling.”
“Hi. I’m Zoe. Who’re you?”
My jaw dropped. “Who—? Who are you talking to?”
“The flapper lady who spoke to us when we came in.” Zoe frowned at me. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Um...I’m fine. I’m surprised you can see Max, that’s all.”
“Oh, you’re Max? I’ve heard a lot about you.” Cocking her head, she said, “You don’t look like you have a mobility problem though.”
“Well, it isn’t so much a mobility problem...” I trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence.
“I’m tethered to this building,” Max explained. “Have you always had a gift for seeing ghosts?”
Zoe’s eyes shifted from Max to me—twice. Then she slowly grinned. “You two are pranking me! I wondered about Max’s crazy getup.”
I gently ushered her into a chair. “We aren’t kidding. Most people can’t see or hear Max. To our knowledge, only Grandpa Dave and I can—and now you.”
“You’re—”
Connie’s rapid-fire knock rattled the door.
I put my finger to my lips to instruct Zoe to be quiet. “Just watch.”
“Hi,” Connie said, as she stepped into the r
oom and gave me a brief hug. “I didn’t get a chance to see you last night during all the excitement. I’m so happy you’re okay. Diana Kramer...” She shook her head. “Who’d have ever thought?” She turned to Zoe. “Oh, hi. I don’t think we’ve officially met, but I’m Connie. I own Delightful Home. I’m right across the hall if you need anything.”
As Connie spoke, Max went over to her and waved a hand in front of her face. Nothing. She poked her tongue out. No response from Connie. Finally, Max began singing some nonsense song to her. Connie completely ignored her.
“Connie, this is Zoe,” I said. “She’s going to be helping me out here on Saturdays.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Zoe. I‘ve seen you around the school, and I look forward to getting to know you.”
“Likewise,” Zoe said.
“Well, I’d better get back at it,” Connie said. “I simply wanted to say hello and that I’m glad you’re okay. See you later.”
After Connie left, Zoe deflated slightly into the chair. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.” Max stooped down in front of her. “But I’m so happy! I just found out day before yesterday that I have living relatives. Maybe somehow we’re related.”
That’s it. “Zoe, what’s your papaw’s name?” I asked.
“Dwight Hall.”
Max squealed with excitement. “You’re my—”
I could nearly see the wheels spinning in Max’s brain. “Great, great niece.”
“Yes! That!” She squealed again. “I’m your Aunt Max!”
Although she still hadn’t quite recovered from seeing a ghost, Zoe shook her head slightly. “Then you’re the reason my name is Zoe Maxine. Our family has had a Maxine in it since my great-grandmother named my grandpa’s sister that.”
“Your great-grandmother was my sister.” Max’s eyes filled with tears.
Zoe looked over at me. “Doesn’t the fact that she’s a ghost creep you out?”
I shrugged. “You’ll get used to it.”
{ }
Epilogue
B
