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Authors: Madison Johns

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Chapter Eight

In the morning, Dixie and I congregated at
the counter of the restaurant. I poked at the eggs on my plate as Margarita
counted out money, then slipped the pile of bills back into the cash register.

“How well did you do yesterday?” I asked.

“Great. One of the best days I’ve had in ten
years.”

That brought a smile to my face. I was
happy that Margarita had fared well with our Cajun recipes. “That’s wonderful.
I suppose you plan to stay at the restaurant all day, which is great, but Dixie
and I plan to go to Curls and Cuts today. I’d sure like to verify the story
Cindy told us.”

Margarita clucked her tongue. “Not so fast.
I have plenty of help to oversee the restaurant while I’m gone.”

“But I thought the owner, Patsy McNalley,
stole your husband?”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m going. I think
it’s about time that I quit worrying about running into her.”

“Why did you do that?” Dixie asked with a
tilt of her head.

“Oh, I don’t know. I guess I was ashamed. I
mean the entire town knows what happened ... you know, my husband fooling
around with Patsy and him leaving me for her.”

“So he was the one who ended it?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t blame you if were the one to throw him out.”

“Actually, I did sort of tell him to leave,
but I had no idea that he’d really do it.”

“How surprised were you when he went after
his half of the restaurant?”

“Very. I inherited the restaurant from my
parents, but we were married for twenty years and he was entitled to his
share.”

“There wasn’t anyone you trusted enough to
buy the business?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think that’d be the best
of ideas. You just can’t get away with things like that in this day and age.”

“I knew a woman who did that. She sold her
house to her sister so her husband couldn’t get anything; not that he deserved
a penny, since she inherited the house from her mother.”

“I sure wish I had met you sooner, Sassy.
If I had someone back then to give me advice, things might have gone much
better for me.” She poured coffee into a cup, stirring cinnamon creamer into
it. “I’m actually ready to face that Patsy woman. I think it’s way overdue.”

“And you never had the chance to earlier?”

“Nope. I guess I was just too intimidated
to confront her. Patsy seemed to have the upper hand.”

“Margarita, I’m going to help you grow a
backbone. You just can’t allow a man, any man, to get the best of you.”

“I’m not like you, Sassy. My sister,
Eleanor, tells me the same thing, though. She’s a real go-getter. I’m just not
like that.”

Dixie finished her breakfast and carried
the dishes into the kitchen. When she returned, Margarita and I were standing
near the door, donning our outerwear. Dixie followed suit and we left via the
front door, passing a crowd of customers who were clamoring to get inside. “I
hope you’re cooking Cajun style again later,” said a man as he walked past.

Margarita whirled around and said, “You can
count on it.”

When we were in the SUV, I couldn’t help
but notice Margarita’s face had reddened. “Who was that?” I asked.

“Bud Haskel. He was there the day you girls
rolled into town, remember?”

“Of course, but honestly, it takes me
longer to remember a face.”

“She’s more of a names kind of girl,” Dixie
said.

“Especially for someone I don’t much care
for, like that Daniel Adams.”

“Oh, you could have fooled me,” Dixie said.
“Sorry, but I’m not buying it a bit. Two people who go at each other the way
you two do tells me one thing: there’s a mutual attraction at hand.”

I shot Dixie a dirty look and spat, “You’re
insane. That man is my opponent and that’s all there is to it.” I cranked the
engine and sped out of the drive, making my way onto the main drag.

Margarita was watching me though the
rearview mirror with a smug smile on her face, like she knew there might be a
shred of truth to what Dixie had just said. Sure, I’d admit that Daniel was
good eye candy, but I had sworn off men. The last thing I needed was to let anyone
keep me from my prize. I just hoped that Daniel wasn’t better with a bow than I
was. Otherwise, I had a big problem.

I parked on the curb when I pulled up to
Curls and Cuts. It was smaller than I had expected with brick halfway up the
building and a large plate glass window etched with the salon name.

A bell rang when we walked inside and
everyone inside glanced up, from women sitting in salon chairs to those beneath
hair dryers. I twitched my nose at the chemical smell that trailed its way up
my nostrils. Despite how small this place appeared from the outside, it was
quite spacious inside. It was obviously deeper than wide with salon chairs on
one side of the wall and hair dryers facing them from the opposite side. Shelves
in the corner of the room displayed salon products for sale.

I approached the counter and asked, “Is the
owner here?”

The girl scratched her head with a pencil
and picked up the phone, informing whoever answered it that they were needed in
the front. Then she hung up and picked up a nail file, smoothing out the edges
of a rough nail.

My eyes widened when a young woman clacked
her way toward us. “Can I help you, ladies?”

I stared at her platinum blonde hair until
her blue eyes narrowed.

“I thought Patsy McNalley owned this
salon?” I said.

“She’s my partner. I’m her daughter, Gail.”

“We really need to speak to Patsy,” I
insisted.

There was a commotion in the rear of the
salon as a broom toppled over. A woman with closely cropped black hair stood
there like a deer in headlights. When she stared at Margarita, I just knew that
she had to be Patsy.

A beautician nudged Patsy forward and I extended
a hand for her to shake, but she declined it and instead said, “Well, as I live
and breathe, it’s Margarita Hickey. I guess hell really did freeze over.”

I tilted my head in Margarita’s direction,
wondering if she’d stand her ground or retreat in defeat since this woman had
so callously destroyed her life.

“Just as trashy as ever,” Margarita said,
obviously referring to the short skirt Patsy wore.

“Well, Winston sure likes it. You know,
your ex-husband, the one who left you for me.”

“That’s not altogether accurate. I threw
him out after I found out he was messing around with another women behind my
back.” Margarita paused as if in thought and added, “I sure hope you know that
you were not the only one in town he was dallying with, but I imagine you were
the only one dumb enough to allow him to stay.”

Gasps filled the room and I wanted to hug
Margarita real tight just then.

Patsy pursed her lips, and her face seemed
to droop, if only slightly. “I can’t imagine you want to wallow in the past, so
why are you here?”

“We were led to believe that someone here
had information about the late Clayton Percy.”

“Oh?” Patsy said lazily. “And who gave you
that bit of information?”

“One of the strippers at Hank’s Hotspot.
It’s an after-hours strip club, in case you didn’t know.”

A large woman stumbled forward. “I should
have known. It’s no wonder my husband goes there every Thursday night. He told
me he was having a business meeting there!”

Before any of us could respond, the woman stormed out, still
wearing her perm curlers as a stylist ran after her in hot pursuit. “Hey, I
need my curlers,” she said.

“Oh, my,” Margarita said with a smile. “I
didn’t mean to do that.”

Patsy rolled her eyes. “Fine. Let’s go into
the back before you chase any more of my customers out of here.”

We followed Patsy into the back and filed
into a room with an oval table that was overflowing with potato chip bags and
Styrofoam containers, obviously the break room. She motioned for us to sit and
once we did, she shook her head. “It’s just so sad about Clayton. He was a nice
man.”

My eyes widened. “Strange. So far, you’re
the only person to say so. He was quite a louse and a cheat from the sounds of
it.”

“Yes, but he was generous, too. He brought
his lady friends here to have their hair done.”

Margarita’s eyes flashed. “Oh? How do you
live with yourself? How could you look his wife Marilyn in the eye knowing what
he was doing to her?”

“It’s not my problem. I wasn’t married to
the man.”

“Of course it wouldn’t bother you, since
you’re used to dallying with the husbands of your customers. I can recall you
lying straight to my face when I asked you if my husband was cheating.”

“Since I was the one who was sleeping with
him, how could you expect I’d tell you the truth?”

Margarita pounded her fist on the table. “I
wish I had the guts to slap your smug face.”

“Now, ladies,” I began. “Please, let’s talk
about what we came here to ask. Was Clayton lured into the woods?”

Patsy rubbed a hand over her head. “That’s
what Cody Jackson said.”

Margarita’s eyes widened. “As in Deputy
Cody Jackson?”

“Sure. I cut his hair once a month.”

“And he spilled his guts just like that?” I
asked.

“Well, I did prod him a little.”

“Does he know that you blabbed his story to
your customers?”

“I sure hope not. It was said in complete
confidence.”

“What did he say, exactly?”

“Just that they believed Clayton was lured into
the woods. They found footprints and he had received a voicemail from a mystery
woman asking him to meet her.”

“A woman, eh? Since he was a louse I
suppose that isn’t all that much of a surprise. I wonder who it might have
been. Did the deputy have any idea?”

“If he did, he didn’t share it.”

“And you never asked?”

“I tried, but Winston showed up and the
deputy clammed up.”

I didn’t know what to make of this story.
“Where is Winston now?” I asked.

“He works at Hank’s Tool and Die now.”

“Since when?” Margarita asked.

“A few months now.”

“Oh, you blew through all the money Winston
won in the divorce?”

“That was five years ago. You really need
to let go, Margarita.”

“I’ve moved on just fine.”

“From the sounds of it, you’re barely
hanging on to that restaurant of yours. It wouldn’t surprise me if you close
your doors before spring.”

Margarita leapt to her feet and shouted,
“And it wouldn’t surprise me if you had a black eye come sundown.”

Dixie interceded before Margarita could
make good on her threat, and we shuffled her back outside.

When were back in the SUV and I had pulled
away from the curb, I couldn’t help but notice two cop cars skidding to a stop
in front of Hank’s Hotspot. “I bet that woman from the hair salon called the
cops about the Hotspot’s nighttime stripper shows.”

Margarita hung her head. “I didn’t mean to
say anything. It just slipped out. I swear, my sister rubbed off on me. She’s
always getting herself into trouble on account of her mouth.”

“Hopefully, nobody will tell who leaked the
story. You might just get run out of town, but I thought it was legal. This
can’t be the only town with a strip bar.”

“Nope. They have one in Harrison, but it’s
out of town, not directly in town like Hank’s Hotspot.”

“Do you think we should hit up your friend
at the sheriff’s department, or do you think we can con information out of
Deputy Jackson?”

“You girls might be able to, but I doubt
he’d talk to an old bird like me. He has a way with the ladies, but I think I’m
too old for him.”

“And just how are we gonna do that?”

“He likes to hang out at the Whitetail Inn
after work,” Margarita hinted.

Chapter Nine

When we entered the Whitetail Inn, it was
quite packed. Tonight’s winter festival activities were snowmobile races and
ice skating, so most of the customers wore snowmobile suits that had been
opened up, the jacket hanging around their waists.

We made our way to the bar and ordered
drinks, waiting to be served. When they came, I glanced at Margarita’s orange
drink and had to ask, “Sex on the Beach, really?”

Dixie erupted into fit of giggles. “Isn’t
that drink too stiff for you?

“I need all the liquid courage I can get.
Questioning Deputy Jackson isn’t going to be easy. That’s why I think you girls
should question him, but remember to call him Cody when he introduces himself.
Act like you don’t know he’s a deputy. Perhaps he’s had enough drinks to be
loose-lipped.”

I nodded. There was a commotion on the
other side of the room and Dixie and I wandered over there to check it out. An electronic
dartboard was affixed to the wall, and right next to it was a mounted deer
head.

A man approached us and my smile faded when
I saw it was my opponent, Daniel.

“Hello there, again. How about a game of
darts?”

I stepped back. “Not me.”

His green eyes lit up. “Oh, really? Are you
trying to tell me that you can shoot a bow, but can’t play darts?”

I swallowed hard. “Of course not, but I’d
prefer to play pool. I’ve never played before, but I’ve heard it’s fun.”

“After darts.” He thrust the darts into my
hands, but I insisted, “You first.” With any luck, he was worse than me. I
might be able to get out of this yet. He took the darts from me, and with his
tongue in the corner of his mouth, he filled the dartboard with a precise aim
that lit up a winning score.

“Looks like you won already,” I said.

“I’m not letting you off the hook that
easy.”

He walked to the dartboard and pulled out
the darts, once again pressing them into my hands. What on earth was happening
here? It’s like he already knew that I couldn’t throw darts to save my own ass.

I took my place and motioned in the air
with one before tossing it toward the dartboard. It hit the edge and then bounced
to the floor. Daniel roared in laughter.

“Good try, but no cigar.”

I whirled. “So, I can’t shoot darts. Sue
me.” I slammed the rest of the darts on a table and walked away.

“Hey,” Daniel called after me. “You don’t
have to get all mad about it. We can play pool if you insist.”

I froze when he said that and met him at
the pool table. I made the break, but purposely barely moved the pool balls.

“You shoot like a sissy,” Daniel said with
a chuckle.

I groaned inwardly, but I was holding my
best shots for later. He shot all of his pool balls into the appropriate
places, but missed on his try for the eighth ball. I smiled as I stared at the
table and began making my shots count, finishing by sinking the eight ball. I
took the pool stick back and shrugged. “Beginners luck. I guess we’ll have to
wait until the archery competition before I can prove who is the better
athlete.”

He smiled at me with that smug look of his,
the one I so longed to slap from his face. A man with very short hair
approached and I smiled when Daniel greeted the man, “Cody, it’s good to see
you.”

“Who’s the redhead?” he asked, like I
wasn’t listening.

“Oh, her? That’s Louisiana Sassy. She’s misguided
enough to believe she can beat me in the archery competition.”

I kept smiling at the deputy, trying with
everything in me not to slap Daniel. I refused to be baited by him. “Nice to
meet you, Cody,” I said. “Surely, you have better friends than Daniel here.”

Cody smiled. “Why do you look so familiar?”

Drat, he must have recognized me from when
I was questioned on my way into town. I glanced at Daniel and playfully tossed
back my hair. “Perhaps we should take a table. We could have more privacy that
way.”

He smiled. “I like the sounds of that.” He
motioned me ahead of him and I found a booth along the way. As I slid across
the cool smooth seat, Daniel hovered nearby, but when Cody sat, he shot Daniel
the look that meant ‘get lost buddy, can’t you see I might get lucky here.’”

A waitress glided over and brought two shot
glasses with a clear liquid in them. I ran a finger along the rim of mine. “You
must be a regular here.”

He stretched an arm across the top of his
seat. I couldn’t help but notice his muscular physique. “You could say that,
and you were about to tell me why you look familiar to me.”

“Was I?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Dixie stride
up. She pushed her way next to Cody, who didn’t seem to mind as he said, “I
sure like where this is going.”

Dixie shot a glance at the shot glasses.
“What are we drinking?”

“Tequila,” Cody said.

“Oh, that’s not good. Sassy over there gets
wild when she drinks tequila.”

I slid my glass toward Dixie, but Cody gave
me his glass. “Drink up, girls.”

There was something about this Cody that
unnerved me. Did Margarita have it right? Was this Cody actually a deputy? If
he was, he was sure taking a big risk to place himself in such an awkward
situation, but I realized that he might just play into my hands perfectly.

“Actually, Dixie and I went into a ditch
just outside of town and were questioned by the police, but I don’t remember
seeing you there.”

“That must be it, then. I was holding back.
The sheriff never allows me to question potential witnesses.”

“Oh, so you work for the sheriff’s
department?”

“As in deputy?” Dixie asked with a drawl.

“Yup. I sure love that accent you girls
have.”

“Has the sheriff figured out who killed
that poor man in the woods?”

He stiffened, and then said, “I suppose you
girls know I can’t tell you anything about that. I mean, I’m sure you saw that
on an episode of Law and Order SVU.”

“Oh, is there a sex crime involved here?”

“Well, there might be since we found
Clayton with his pants around his ankles.”

Dixie choked on the tequila. “No way.”

Cody glanced around and leaned his elbows
on the table. “I could get into trouble if anyone told the sheriff I was
sharing information about a crime scene.”

“So why are you, then?”

“I was hoping you girls could come home
with me.” He winked. “I’d sure love to see you girls get together,” he hinted.

I stiffened at that, but Dixie giggled. “As
you were saying about the crime scene…”

I hoped she was making it quite clear that
we weren’t going anywhere unless he spilled his guts more.

“There were two sets of footprints going
in, Clayton’s and someone with smaller feet.”

“A woman, perhaps?”

“Or someone with small feet.”

“We heard at Curls and Cuts that the
sheriff believes Clayton was lured out there.”

His faced hardened. “That damn Patsy has a
big mouth.”

I rubbed my hand over Cody’s. “And?”

“There was a voicemail that came in. An
unidentified female called and asked Clayton to meet her in their usual spot.
The sheriff believes it was in the woods.”

“Were you able to trace the call?”

“No, it seems that whoever made the call
used one of those throw-away phones. It could have been anyone.”

“That’s odd. It sounds like premeditated
murder here, but it seems odd that Clayton actually went into the woods in the
middle of winter for a lover’s tryst.”

“Actually, there’s a cabin close by, but
sometimes men will do just about anything to get a little on the side.”

“I agree. They might even put their job in
jeopardy,” said an angry male voice, which happened to belong to Sheriff Price.
He was dressed casually, but the lines across his face became deep-set as he
frowned. “If you’ve told these women anything that jeopardizes our case, I’ll
see you in prison, alongside whoever did this.”

I swallowed hard. “He didn’t tell us
anything of any use. We already knew that Clayton cheated on his wife and paid
for lap dances at Hank’s Hotspot, but what I haven’t figured out is where did
he get all that money he was flashing all over town?”

The sheriff’s brow shot up. “I don’t see
how any of this is your business.”

“You made it our business when you searched
our vehicle and practically accused me of murdering Clayton.”

Sheriff Price absorbed what I said and
shook his head. “It was the logical thing to do at the time, but I did some investigating
and your story checks out. You had just come into town, like you said. Daniel
also gave us a timeframe that accounted for the time you spent in the ditch
before he pulled you out. I sure hope you aren’t getting Margarita into any
trouble. That lady has enough woes as it is.”

Margarita wobbled forward and said,
“Nonsense. Meeting these girls is the best thing that ever happened to me. They
even helped me create some Cajun dishes that have put my business back on
track.”

“It should do much better now, since we
closed down Hank’s Hotspot.”

Margarita’s face whitened. “Oh, my. I had
no idea. I should have just shut my yap earlier at Curls and Cuts.”

His brow shot up. “That adds up. So, you
were the one who let the cat outta the bag. I’d keep that to yourself, if I
were you.”

“Great advice,” I said. “Is it illegal to
have a strip club? I heard they have one in Harrison.”

“We have ordinances against such businesses.
If Hank wants to open a place like that, he’ll have to get the proper licenses
and locate it out of town.”

“That would take months, though.”

“If he’d done it the right way, he wouldn’t
have found himself in trouble now.”

“Do you have any idea where Clayton might
have come into money recently?”

“You just don’t quit.”

“It’s a simple question,’ Margarita said, “unless
you’re hiding something.”

“I’m not saying another word, ladies. This
is an ongoing investigation ... one that I hope you’ll butt out of. It’s also
dangerous. One man has been murdered already. If you keep poking into the case,
who knows what might happen? You might start looking like a threat to whoever
killed Clayton.”

The sheriff left before we could say
another word. Cody slid out of the seat and caught up with him.

“Lucky for us the sheriff showed up when he
did. That deputy had the wrong idea about us,” I said.

“Yeah,” Dixie said. “He was under the
impression that we’d go home with him tonight if he shared information with us.
How crazy is that?”

“I’m sure you girls needed to lead him on
like that, but Cody has quite the reputation and he’s dreadfully handsome.”

“He’s too cocky for me.” Of course Daniel
was, too, but that was in more of a competitive way. That I could relate to. “Well,
that certainly didn’t go according to plan, but now we know that Clayton was
killed with his pants down and a female lured him into the woods. We just have
to figure out who and why,” I said.

“I think we need to get onto that money
trail,” Margarita added. “Have you questioned Clayton’s friends or his boss
yet?”

“That’s our next move, but I have no idea
how to find Barry Haskel and Marty Novak. Do you, Margarita?”

“Sure do. They’re sitting across the room.
I’d like to take part in the questioning this time. Barry is the nephew of one
of my regular customers, Bud Haskel. He’s not so happy that he spends the
majority of time in the bar drinking.”

I downed my shot before we walked across
the room. By the time we reached the other side where the two men were arm
wrestling, the alcohol had already hit me. I should have known better than to
drink tequila. It had never made for rational thought in the past.

Both men grunted in their efforts to throw
their opponent’s arm down for the count. A chunky blonde stood off to the side,
cheering them on,

“Oh, come on, Marty. Show Barry who is boss,”
she called.

The one with a crew-cut bellowed, “What do
you think I’m trying to do, woman.”

Boom. Marty’s eyes bulged as he brought
Barry’s arm down with a thump.

“Owwww! Jesus, Marty! Are you trying to
break my arm?” Barry asked, his voice slurring.

Marty looked up at me. “Can I help you,
ladies?” he asked with a cock of his head. His eyes were glassy with deep-set
smile lines and I just could tell he was ‘mister social.’

The blonde threw an arm around him. “I hope
you haven’t come over here to try and steal my man away,” she said, as she
doubled up a fist. She was almost laughable as her heavily made-up eyes
widened.

“Would you sit before you fall down,
Margie?” Marty said.

Margie toppled into a chair, continuing to
glare at me. “I came over to offer you my condolences. I heard you and Clayton
were friends.”

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