Aretha Moon and the Dead Hairdresser: Aretha Moon Book 2 (Aretha Moon Mysteries) by Linda Ross (pdf to ebook reader txt) 📕

the left was looking straight ahead.  The eyelid looked too small for the eye and there were no lashes.  Her right eyebrow was missing, leaving a thick scar in its place.  And one side of her nose didn’t match the other.  She wore bangs that were longer on the right side and partially covered her face, but the damage was obvious despite the makeup she was wearing.

“We’re sorry to bring you over here on short notice,” Thelma told her, shaking hands.  “We’re only here for the day, and we need to find out what we can about Kara.”  She gestured to a chair, and Gigi sat.  Pastor Rick hovered near the door.

“”Ellen said she’s dead,” Gigi said, her voice small and girlish, as if it didn’t belong in a woman’s body.  She was probably thirty.  She raised her hand to her mouth briefly, and I saw a wedding ring.

“She was killed in the hair salon where she worked,” I said.  “We’re looking for any information that might help find the killer.  And the reason she was killed.”

Gigi shook her head.  “I can’t believe she’s dead.  I’ve been wanting the nightmare to be over for so long, and now I can’t really believe it.”

“Why don’t you tell us what happened when Kara assaulted you?” Thelma asked gently.  “Just take your time.”

Gigi looked down and took a deep breath.  “It was during the Sunday service.  I was in charge of coffee that morning, and after the collection was taken I remembered that I’d left the new pack of napkins in the office when I’d stopped in to put the receipt for the coffee in the file.”  Gigi was reciting the story in almost a monotone, I guess to disassociate herself from it.  “Pastor Rick was already partway through his sermon, and there would only be a final hymn before everyone came downstairs for coffee.  I went to the office to get the napkins on my way to the basement, and the door was open.  That was unusual, because whoever did the collection that Sunday always closed the door on their way out.”

Her voice cracked a little on that last word, and Thelma reached out and touched her hand.  “You’re doing fine,” she said encouragingly.

Gigi gave a short nod and continued.  “I opened the door and started in when I saw Kara leaning over the collection plate on the desk.  She looked up when she heard me, and the look on her face. . . .”  She stopped and took another steadying breath.  “I’ll never forget that look.  I see it in my nightmares sometimes.”  Her hand closed on Thelma’s hand and tightened.

“It’s all right,” Thelma said soothingly.  “It’s over now, and she’s gone.”

“I was so stupid,” Gigi said.  “I just stared at her and said, ‘What are you doing?’  She came around the desk, and I swear she snarled like a wild animal.  I opened my mouth to scream and she grabbed me around the neck.  She was choking me with both hands, and she was so strong I couldn’t pull her hands away.  I started to see black, and I was almost unconscious.  That’s when she slammed my head against the edge of the desk.  I remember falling to the floor, and I turned my head to look at her just as she hit me with a paperweight.  She got me right on the eye.  I think I did manage to scream then, although it was barely audible because of my throat.  I was lucky that Marcy was coming to look for me to start the coffee.  She screamed, and Kara dropped the paperweight and ran out.”

I could see Gigi’s hand shaking as she gripped Thelma’s hand.

“Did the police look for her?” I asked.

Gigi shook her head.  “Everybody wanted me to call the police, but I was too scared.  You didn’t see her face.  She didn’t even look human.”

“We had a retired police officer in our congregation at the time,” Pastor Rick said from behind us.  “He wanted us to report it, but Gigi couldn’t bring herself to do it.  We prayed on it a lot, and finally we had to believe that we were doing the best thing for Gigi.”

“If they’d arrested her, my boyfriend would have killed her,” Gigi said in a small voice.  “He never left my side while I was having surgery for my face.  Even with what she did to me, he insisted on getting married.  I told him I would understand if he didn’t want to go through with the wedding, but he was more determined than ever.”  She gave a small smile, a stark contrast to the tears running down her face.  “I think he hates her more than I do.”  She half-turned to give Pastor Rick an apologetic smile.  “I’m sorry.  I’ve tried to forgive her, but I can’t.”

“Jesus understands,” he said in a soothing voice.

I understood too.  Gigi would have been a real looker and still was.  But there was that flaw on her face, and for someone who had grown up being beautiful a flaw like that was hard to live with.  No doubt she hated Kara.  But it was her husband I really wondered about.  Did he hate Kara enough to find her and kill her?

“Did your husband know Kara?” I asked.

Gigi shook her head.  “Eddie’s not really into church.  Actually, he was kind of wild when I met him.  He used to go out drinking and playing cards.  He changed when we got together, and he’s been a good man.”

Define good, my cynical brain said.  People thought my ex-husband Boyd was a good man too.

“Gigi has changed his life,” Pastor Rick said.  “He comes to our church dinners now, and I just know that one day he’ll find Jesus.”

I don’t know why people always talk about finding Jesus, like he’s Waldo.  Look close enough at the picture