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

“I’m wondering if we could move before Thanksgiving,” I said.

“She’d track us down.  She’s relentless.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Eileen sighed.  “Stock up on wine.”

“Momo doesn’t drink.”

“No, but I do.”

It seemed like the most sensible plan at the moment.  I was about to suggest the witness protection program, but Tiffany and Desi came thumping down the stairs.  I don’t think Eileen even noticed.

“Aunt Ree,” Tiffany wailed, “can you believe what happened?”

“Well, they’re not going to move in,” I said.  “At least I hope not.”

Tiffany looked at me in confusion and said, “No, the murder.  Kara.”

“Oh, of course.  It’s been a shock.”

“I highkey couldn’t believe it,” Tiffany said dramatically, tossing her hair back.

I looked at Eileen for translation, and she said, “It means sincerely.”

“Yeah, it was pretty unbelievable.”

“Do they know what happened?” Eileen asked me.

I shook my head.  “Her sister said she saw her there at the salon last night, and she was okay when she left.”

“She has a sister?” Tiffany said.  “I never heard that.”

Desi was pretending to be bored, leaning her elbows on the back of a kitchen chair and swinging her hips from side to side.

“What do you know about her?” I asked Tiffany.

“Just what I heard from some of the girls at school.  This one girl, Amber, got her hair cut there all the time.  Her mother’s really with it.”  She threw a challenging glance at Eileen, who was still apparently in shock over the coming of Momo.  “She had a boyfriend who plays in a band, and sometimes she’d sing with the band.”

“Really?  Do you know his name?”

“I can find out.”  Tiffany pulled her cell phone from her jeans pocket and started texting.

Apparently Amber responded right away.  Tiffany and her friends, like most kids, live on their phones.  I’m lucky if I get one call a week, and no one ever texts me.  I tried texting once and nearly sent an obscene message.  I can never hit the right letter.

“Amber didn’t know the guy’s name.  But the band’s The Rotten Hockey Puck.  They play at a bar downtown on the weekends.  Amber thinks it’s the one with the picture of the catfish on the sign.”

I had a pretty good idea which one it was.  “Thanks, Tiff.  I’ll check it out.”

I left Eileen still clutching her head and went to the office.  Lorenzo was flexible about work hours, and if we came in on a Saturday we could take off early one day the next week.  The door was unlocked, and I saw Carl and Thelma at their computers.  Lorenzo was in his office, and he brightened when he saw me walk in.

“Moon!” he called, coming out to greet me.  “How goes the murder investigation?”

“It’s just getting started, Lorenzo.  I wanted to type up some notes and then go track down the murdered girl’s boyfriend.”

“Great!”  He beamed at me, as if I were a baby who’d just said her first word.  “You should have some help on this.”  He looked over at Carl, and I felt my stomach sink.  “Carl!  Why don’t you work on the murder with Moon here?”

“No, really,” I protested.  “I’m not at the stage where I need any help at this point.”

Carl got up and walked over, his usual smarmy smile planted firmly on his face.  “Sure.  We’ll have a great time together, Aretha.”

“Actually,” I said, “I’ve already asked Thelma.”  I turned to face Thelma, who was watching us impassively, and mouthed Please.  “I promised her we could interview the boyfriend and get something to eat.”  Thelma’s expression hadn’t changed, and I desperately hoped she wasn’t on a strict diet.  Or that she didn’t want to work with me.

Thelma stood up and walked over to us, all grace and poise.  I briefly wondered if she’d been a model.  She certainly had the looks and the bearing.

Lorenzo was frowning.  “Well, Thelma is actually more of a women’s interest writer, Moon.  You’ll be better off with Carl.”

“I’m sure I can handle this one,” Thelma purred with a sweet smile.  “I’m so looking forward to getting more experience.  Surely you want me to learn, Lorenzo.”  The smile never wavered, but I caught an edge behind it.  It looked like Thelma might be steel in a black satin package.

Lorenzo cleared his throat.  “Well. . .”

“My brother said I’d learn a lot here.”

Lorenzo caved at that and waved his hairy hand in the air.  “Okay, sure.  Go with Moon.  Carl, you can start on a new sports story.”  Carl opened his mouth and then closed it again as Lorenzo retreated to his office.  With a sigh, Carl slunk back to his desk.

I finished up Avery’s story and filed it, then did a quick check of my e-mails and saw that Lorenzo wanted the winter horoscope on his desk by Monday afternoon.  That would shoot a couple of hours.  Nothing else important, so I headed for the door.

“I can’t thank you enough,” I said when we were both outside, fastening our coats.  “Being with Carl is like babysitting a dog that humps your leg.  Do you mind walking?  The bar should be just around the corner.”

“It’s still pretty early.  Do you think the band will be there yet?”

“If they’re not, we can get something to eat and wait.  You do eat, don’t you?”

“Of course I eat.  What do you think I am?”

“I don’t know.  You’re certainly a fast walker.”  Thelma had started down the sidewalk at a good clip, and I was starting to feel out of breath.  She slowed down then, and my heart was pumping normally by the time we got to the bar, Catfish Cove,

Hannibal has nice bars, and they’re family friendly.  Thelma and I took a seat at a booth in the side room near the small