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

“The lab got some fibers off the front of Kara’s car, and it looks like they match what Stephanie was wearing when she was hit.”

“So Kara’s car was the murder weapon.”

“Looks like it.  No prints inside other than Kara’s.”

“Do you think she killed Stephanie?”

“It looks that way.  She must have run the car into the tree in an attempt to cover up the damage.”

“And then someone killed her,” I said.  “It doesn’t make sense.”

“As you said, there are enough suspects.  Maybe it was just coincidence that she was killed shortly after she ran down Stephanie Riley.”

“It doesn’t feel like coincidence,” I said.

“No, it doesn’t.  And then there’s the Hominy overdose.”

“Do you think that ties in with Kara?”

“I don’t know, but I’d bet there’s a good chance.”

“So we’ve got Hominy, Stephanie and Kara all killed about the same time.  That’s assuming Hominy’s overdose was a homicide.  So how are they related?”

“Hominy and Kara knew each other from jail,” Jimmy said.  “Stephanie and Kara knew each other from the hair salon.  We don’t think Stephanie and Hominy knew each other.  So the connection is Kara.”

“But she’s dead,” I said.  “And she sure didn’t kill herself.  So, assuming Kara killed Hominy and Stephanie, we’re looking for someone who then killed Kara.  But why would Kara have killed Hominy anyway?  They were supposed to be friends.  Partners in crime.”

“A falling out among thieves?  It sounds like they were running a credit card scam together.”

“Could be.  But she’s dead now too.  So she couldn’t have killed Kara.”

“I think we’re back to an ex-boyfriend,” Jimmy said.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Thanksgiving day was dark and overcast with more rain on the way.  The gray clouds hung low, and that matched my mood.  I had checked in with Eileen the night before to see if she needed anything for the dinner, and she sounded as harried as I felt.

Jimmy and I had had our usual evening activities—TV and me falling asleep on the couch.  This morning I got up before he did and started the coffee.  I opened a Diet Coke for myself.  I figured this was going to be a three-Coke day at a minimum.

I put a box of Little Debbie muffins on the table, ate two, then headed over to Eileen’s house.  Jimmy was still asleep.

Eileen’s house was bedlam.  Desi and Tiffany were running back and forth, shrieking about their T-shirts, which apparently were in the dirty laundry and hadn’t been washed.

“You knew I wanted to wear that T-shirt,” Tiffany was complaining to her mother.

“Tiffany wore my T-shirt and spilled catsup on it!” Desi was shouting.

“It’s Kool-Aid,” Tiffany said with disdain, “and you spilled it yourself two days ago, dork.”

“I don’t have time to worry about T-shirts,” Eileen said, wild-eyed.  “Go find something else to wear.”

“Let’s put them in the washer,” I said.  “It won’t take that long, and you’ll have them in time for dinner.”

They couldn’t come up with an argument for that, so I herded them to the washer off the hall and showed Desi how to put stain remover on her shirt before it went in the wash.  I left them arguing about washing their jeans as well, and went to check on Eileen again.

She was trying to placate Momo in the kitchen.  I could smell the turkey in the oven.

“In my day,” Momo was saying, “we shot the turkey and plucked it ourselves.  None of these frozen turkeys for us.  And if we got worms, we had herbs for that.”

“Oh, dear God,” Eileen said.

“I never hunted turkey with worms,” Dad said.  “Just used them for fishing.”

I thought Eileen was going to pass out.

“Why don’t you two peel potatoes?” I suggested.  I wasn’t sure giving them potato peelers was a good idea, but it would at least keep them busy.

I shepherded Eileen back to the dining room.  “Listen, I hate to spring this on you, but I invited a guest today.”

“Who?”

“A woman I met when I interviewed her for a story.  Darlene Gregory.  She was going to be alone today.”

“No problem.  I don’t think we’ll even notice her in this zoo.”

“Is Ralph still coming?”  I tried not to sound too hostile.

“Yes, and I don’t want you criticizing him.”

“He charges by the minute.  I can’t afford to even talk to him.”

“Very funny.  Now help me set the table.”

Eileen debated about using her white linen tablecloth with the eyelet edges.  In retrospect it was a mistake, but that’s hindsight.

We put Momo at one end of the table and Dad at the other to try to keep the fighting to a minimum.  Jimmy and I were on one side of the table with Eileen and Ralph on the other.  We decided to put Darlene next to me and Tiffany and Desi on either side of Eileen and Ralph.  It would be a tight fit, but it would work.

“Oh, God, I need a drink,” Eileen said, “and it’s still morning.”

“It’s Thanksgiving.  You can drink all day.”

“Not around Momo.  You know how she hates alcohol.  ‘The Devil’s Brew.’”

“All right,” I said.  “We’ll have lemonade instead.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Special lemonade,” I said.  “Whiskey sours.”

“I could go for a whiskey sour,” Eileen said.

Eileen had a full bottle of sour mix and an almost full Jack Daniels, so I made two big pitchers of whiskey sours and put them in the fridge.  The fridge was crammed full, but I squeezed in the pitchers.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.  Eileen and I each had a small drink, just to fortify ourselves.

Things were relatively calm by the time I went back to my house.  Jimmy was up, drinking coffee and watching the parade on TV when I walked in.  Nancy was sitting on the couch with him, and he was sharing his Little