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

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and I got a chili cheese Maid-Rite and a mint Oreo shake.

“You know there’s a weigh-in next Wednesday at the Slenderizers.  There’s a contest to see who lost the most weight over Thanksgiving.”

“Now there’s a contest I can’t get excited about,” I said.

After lunch we wandered around shopping and looking in windows.  I could tell that Eileen didn’t want to go home and face Momo and Dad.  I felt sympathy for her.  A person needed a lot of lemonade to deal with them.

We finally realized we had to go back to the house.  We needed to pick up Tiffany and Desi since the Christmas tree festivities would start at dusk.  And that came early this time of year.

When we got there, Dad was watching TV and eating a sandwich.  Tiffany and Desi were less than enthusiastic about going to the Christmas tree lighting, but Momo was more than ready.  I figured she’d have a great time, but Eileen would have to get her home by nine.

The five of us set off for downtown again.  Tiffany and Desi were bored and on their phones.  There was some party at a friend’s house that they were missing.

“I don’t know why we have to do this every year,” Tiffany complained.  “It’s so boring.”

“Yeah, my friends all think it’s for babies,” Desi chimed in.

“Meredith Tippett is having a party tonight,” Tiffany said.  “Her parents aren’t making her go look at a Christmas tree.”

“We’re going to have family time and we’re going to enjoy it!” Eileen informed them, and they sat back with mutinous pouts on their mouths.

“What’s wrong with your neck?” Momo demanded, craning around to look at me.  “It’s all pink.  And there’s a hole in your purse.  I swear, I’ve seen better dressed women lying in the gutter.”

“I have a rash,” I said.  “That’s calamine lotion on my neck.  And the Hound of the Baskervilles attacked my purse.”

“And you’re perspiring,” Momo continued.

“I’m having a hot flash.”  And I was.  A big, raging hormonal hot flash.  I was afraid I was going to turn into The Incredible Hulk any minute.  But I would be red instead of green.  Very Christmasy.

We had to park several blocks away from the Mark Twain Boyhood Home and Museum, where the tree lighting was.  We trooped there in silence, our merry band of aggravated women.  All around us people were chattering and laughing.  Not us.  Nobody was going to make us enjoy the holiday season.  Nosiree.

The Salvation Army band was playing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen as we gathered in the garden area of the museum.  The music changed to Here Comes Santa Claus, and the Hannibal trolley came down the street, bell clanging.  The trolley is a trolley car on wheels that takes tourists around to see the sights.  Standing at the back and waving was Santa Claus, and four elves gathered around him.  People with small children in the crowd called to him and waved, pointing him out to their kids.  I remembered my parents doing the same when I was little.

“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa cried as he got off the trolley and waved to the crowd.  The elves spilled out after him, all dressed alike in tight green outfits with white collars and pointed hats.  They remained in the street as Santa went into the garden.

Everyone turned as the horse-drawn wagon came down the street next with another load of people.  The bells on the two horses jingled over the noise of the crowd.  They stopped in the street to watch the festivities.  Main Street had been blocked off for the event.  And no doubt to clean up the horse manure afterwards.

A man stepped up to the microphone in the garden to start the ceremony, and he announced that there would be a mustache contest after the tree lighting and told everyone where to register.  I heard one of the elves snicker, and I looked over.  That particular elf looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him.  I kept sneaking glances as the announcements went on.

Finally it was time to light the tree, and Santa stepped up to do the honors.  The tree came to life in a blaze of light, and the crowd oohed and aahed in satisfaction.  The elf put two fingers in his mouth to whistle, and I suddenly recognized him.  It was the guy with the big gap in his front teeth who had been standing outside the salon the morning Kara’s body was found.  I worked my way over toward him and broke through the crowd and into the street.

He didn’t realize I was coming until I was standing right in front of him.  He looked at me in surprise and then seemed to vaguely remember me.  I could see the instant it dawned on him where he’d seen me.  And he didn’t want any part of that.  He turned to retreat, but I grabbed him by his elf belt.  He was a small, thin guy, and he was just a little stronger than I am.  He was still trying to get away and half dragging me down the street.

“Wait!  I need to ask you some questions.”

“I don’t want to answer any questions.  Let go! I’m an elf!”

“Well, you’re a bad elf,” I retorted, still hanging onto his belt.  “I saw you outside the salon the morning Kara Koch’s body was found.  What were you doing there?”

“Nothing!”  He turned and shoved me.  I started to fall down, and I grabbed his shirt to take him down with me.  We landed in the street and started rolling around, shouting at each other.

“What were you doing there?” I demanded.  I had him on his back, and I was straddling him.  He was trying to push me off, but I wasn’t budging.  Something smelled bad, and I realized we’d rolled over some manure on the street.  Great.

“I

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