A Dyeing Shame

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next morning, Myrtle walked into the Beauty Box for her scheduled wash and set. Kat’s non-smoking campaign wasn’t going very well—she had a full ashtray next to her and was smoking what looked like the last cigarette in the pack. Kat slouched in a vinyl styling chair but stood up and stubbed out her cigarette when she saw Myrtle. “Sorry,” Kat said. “Nerves.”

  Myrtle glanced around the deserted salon. “Where’s everybody hiding, Kat? The Beauty Box is usually crammed with ladies by now.”

  “We got a couple of calls this morning to reschedule. Dina’s at the shelter. And...today was Mrs. Walker’s usual morning to come in, of course.” Kat looked at Myrtle and raised the cigarette to her mouth again, before realizing that she’d stubbed it out. She gave a short laugh and tossed the butt into a wastebasket. “Everybody’s freaked out. I’m not immune to it, either.” She turned an inquisitive eye on Myrtle. “I didn’t expect to see you here, after the day you had yesterday.”

  Myrtle nodded. “It was pretty awful. How did you hear about it? Were you at the Beauty Box yesterday morning?” There wasn’t a good way to ask someone if they had an alibi.

  Fortunately, Kat didn’t seem to mind. “Actually, I saw Mrs. Walker when I was coming in. She was already out in her yard and I made some kind of comment about how early she was working. She said she was trying to beat the heat. Then I went inside. The next thing I saw was the police cars out front and you and Elaine sitting in her car.” She shook her head and washed her hands to get ready to do Myrtle’s hair.

  “So you didn’t see or hear anything else? Didn’t notice anyone who shouldn’t be there?”

  “No. And I wish I had. I was busy getting the shop ready for the customers. I took towels out of the dryer, moved some of the paint cans and all…tried to get organized.” She gave a short laugh.

  “Was Dina around?” asked Myrtle. “Maybe she saw something. After all, Agnes lives right next door.”

  Kat made a face. “She should have been around, but she wasn’t. I think she was over at the shelter again. I swear, she’s driving me nuts with it. I’m glad she’s found something that makes her happy, but if she doesn’t start doing some work around here, I’m going to have to look for a new manicurist.”

  She seemed a little too agitated to be doing hair, so Myrtle carefully pointed the direction of the conversation back to the shop and how much better it was looking.

  Kat’s face lit up as she talked about paint swatches, curtains, new equipment and other things. In the place of the tatty magazines that used to be there, there were stacks of self-help paperbacks with titles like Twelve Steps to Financial Freedom. Kat seemed to be transforming, too. There were fewer earrings on fewer visible body parts. Myrtle moved over to the chair at the sink and listened as Kat expertly scrubbed her hair and chatted.

  “Is your afternoon going to be this quiet, too?” asked Myrtle.

  “Let’s hope not. I’d go broke if that were the case. No, I’ve got Bootsie Davenport coming in for her new do.”

  “I like the way you’re doing it now. Is she just coming in to get it styled?”

  “She’s thinking about adding a little color to it. She’s wanted to update her look for a long time but Tammy was in no shape to do it. Plus, Tammy would have been furious if she’d tried to switch over to me.”

  She sure would have been. It would have been Bootsie’s death they’d have been investigating, instead of Tammy’s. “So, is there anything else you’re planning to do with the Beauty Box?”

  “I’m thinking about installing some tanning beds in Tammy’s old room. I think that might bring in some people. There really aren’t any tanning beds anywhere near to Bradley.”

  “How about…paintings?” asked Myrtle.

  Kat frowned. “Paintings?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I’ve got a lovely painting of Miles and me surrounded by books. I’d be happy to donate it to a worthy cause like the rebirth of the Beauty Box.”

  “Oh. I really appreciate it, Miss Myrtle, but I don’t think a book painting will fit in with the new décor. It’s really nice of you, though.”

  Shoot.

 

  After making her way back home, Myrtle fixed a pimento cheese sandwich for lunch. She’d just finished when the phone rang. It was a solemn Connor Walker calling, wanting to hear about yesterday morning. She recounted the day, avoiding her usual melodramatic retelling, and asked if there was anything she could do to help him out.

  “Actually, I did want to ask you a favor. Could you go in her closet and pick out an outfit for Mother to be buried in? I don’t have a clue what she’d have wanted. And I know she would have wanted things perfect.”

  “Your mother certainly would have. Which reminds me, you might like Jo to clean your mother’s house a little before your visitation there tomorrow. Your mom kept a perfect house, but she was due for her regular cleaning. Want me to let Jo in to vacuum and dust?”

  “That would be great. Mother would have wanted it spruced up with half the town going over there.”

  “I’ll run by your house in a little while for the key.”

  She was hanging up when the doorbell rang, making her jump. Exercising more caution than usual, Myrtle peered out the dining room curtains. When she saw Red, she opened the door.

  “Hi, Red.” He looked distracted. Was that a good condition for him to be in for her to get information? She couldn’t remember. “Uh…would you like some lunch? I’ve got a casserole I defrosted last night. It’s pretty good.”

  Red shuddered. “Uh, no, that’s okay. I’ll grab some lunch after I meet with Perkins.”

  He plopped down at her kitchen table and fidgeted with the tablecloth. Myrtle said, “Okay Red. Spit it out. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

  Red took a deep breath. “The letter you received. The warning? It was clipped from a newspaper we found in Agnes’ desk.”

  “Agnes? Why on earth would she have done that?”

  Red shrugged. “I don’t know, Mama. Maybe she was just concerned with your well-being?”

  “No,” scoffed Myrtle. “She’d have warned me in person, like she’d already done.” She frowned. “Agnes was trying to scare me off the case.”

  “Although that sure wasn’t possible,” mumbled Red.

  “That means she must have pegged Connor as the killer,” mused Myrtle. “She must’ve seen something and been trying to cover up for him.”

  “That could well be,” said Red. “But we haven’t been able to get anything on him so far. Maybe she thought you were on the verge of finding out something we weren’t.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t suppose Agnes could have done it. She was elderly, but one heck of a strong woman.”

  “I guess she could have done it, but I don’t think she did. Besides, who killed Agnes if she killed Tammy?”

  “Someone avenging Tammy’s death?”

  “Who? And why? No one even liked Tammy anymore.”

  Red wearily rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Mama. All I know is that letter came from Agnes Walker’s house.” He peeked out hopefully behind his hands. “Does this murder make you think twice about trying to figure out who’s behind this?”

  “Not a chance!”

  Red glowered at her. “I think you’d be a lot safer off at Greener Pastures Retirement Home, Mama.”

  “I think I have a darling gnome collection that needs to be aired out in my front yard.”

  “I think I actually might schedule an admissions interview for you,” said Red.

  “I think I might commission Elaine to do a portrait of you. It can hang in a place of honor in your house.”

  Red exhaled with a hiss and quickly took his leave.