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

“Maybe we don’t have to talk to them.  Maybe we can just nose around where they live and work.”

“Yeah, Jimmy would love that,” Thelma said dryly.

“Jimmy doesn’t have to know.  Come on, let’s get a snack before we head back to Hannibal.”

We stopped at a store so I could get eggs, and I picked up another box of Little Debbies, this one chocolate cupcakes.  One can never have too many cupcakes.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was close to four by the time we got to Hannibal, but we went to the office to check in.

We stopped at Lorenzo’s office just long enough to tell him we were back.  It was Monday after all, and I can hold my breath for only so long.  We quickly closed the door and headed to our respective desks.  And we both stopped in our tracks.  Standing at the counter halfway between my desk and Thelma’s was Rose.  She looked stunning as always in a hot pink silk tunic top over white pants.  The braided belt hung loosely at her waist.

“Oh, hi,” she said brightly.  “I know this is a surprise, but I was going crazy just sitting at home and doing nothing.  I had to keep busy.”

“So you got a job here?” Thelma asked.

Rose nodded.  “I can type and file, so Lorenzo hired me to work in the morgue.”

I just bet he did.  The morgue is newspaper talk for a library of clippings, or, in larger and wealthier papers, computer files.  Rose had the current issue of The Spyglass spread out in front of her, and she was cutting out stories.

“I thought maybe I could help you with your story too.  I mean, nobody knew Kara as well as I did.”

“That’s an idea,” I said, although I wasn’t keen on any more help with the story.  I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to talk to her though.  “First thing tomorrow,” I said.  “I need to get some notes typed up on the computer.”

“I could do it for you,” she offered.

“That’s very nice, but I can manage.”  And Thelma and I moved off to her desk to pool our notes.

“Well, she might actually be some help,” Thelma said in an undertone.

“I don’t know.  She’s probably going to be really emotional about it.”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

We left it at that and started on our notes.  I could see Marybeth and JoAnn working at their desks, throwing covert glances at Rose.  I could see why.  Rose with her high-end clothes and gorgeous hair looked out of place in the office.  If there was one thing The Spyglass wasn’t, it was classy.  And how the hell did Rose get her hair that shiny?  There wasn’t enough coconut oil in the South Pacific to make my hair look like that.

“I think we need to talk to Serena Roosevelt,” I said.

“The owner?”

I nodded.  “We need to figure out what was going on there.  I sensed some undercurrent.  Kara was into something that caused the fight between her and Stephanie Riley.  I think Serena might know more than she’s told the police.”

“We can go talk to her tomorrow.  Also any other clients who might know something.”

“Right.  I’ve just got to make one call, and then I’m headed home.”  I dialed Joan Larkin and asked if she’d heard anything about Stewart now that the issue with the story about his disappearance was out.  She hadn’t, and she was depressed.

“I see his little rawhide treats sitting on the counter, and I can hardly stand it.”

I told her not to worry, that he would turn up, but I wondered.  There probably weren’t enough rawhide treats in the world to keep that dog from chewing through anything that got in his way.  The fact that no one had seen him was worrisome.  And there hadn’t been any demand for money to return him.

I thought about Stewart all the way home, but I didn’t have any ideas about where he was.

Eileen had just pulled into the drive in front of me, and she waved frantically when she saw me.  Great.  This looked like a headache in the making.

I let Nancy out to potty, then walked over to her house in time to see Dad stomp inside as Momo glided behind him, her chin up.  I knew that look.  She wanted something and she hadn’t gotten it.  Now we would all pay.

“What happened?” I asked Eileen.

“I’m not sure.”  She stared after them helplessly.  “We stopped at the store to get some pumpkin because Momo wants pumpkin pie, and I was out.  Then Dad started saying he doesn’t like dumplings, and he and Momo got into an argument with her insisting he does like dumplings.  And he said dumplings are for Christmas, not Thanksgiving.  And then we figured out that he thought we’d said dumplings instead of pumpkin, so Momo tried to make him go to the walk-in clinic in the store to get his hearing checked.  And things went downhill from there.”

“Oh, boy,” I said.

Inside, I had Eileen sit down with a glass of wine, and I got out the cold cuts, bread and chips for an easy supper.  Desi and Tiffany were staying with a friend, which they’d been doing more often since Momo arrived.  I think the daily critiques about their wardrobes and haircuts were wearing thin.

When I left, Dad and Momo were watching Wheel of Fortune, and Dad was shouting, “Buy a vowel!” while Momo was wondering if Vanna White was related to Betty White.  Or maybe that nice White family that used to live just outside of Hannibal.  Oh, boy.

Jimmy was getting out of his car when I got back to my house.  And he had Chinese carry-out.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” I asked, inhaling deeply.

“You’re only