Haunt Couture and Ghosts Galore (12 page)

“It doesn't mean that they didn't either,” Charlotte said.

I finished off my French toast and wiped my mouth with my napkin. I grabbed my purse and bill and headed for the register. Dixie approached holding a small white bag.

“What's this?” I took the sack from her outstretched hand.

“Snickerdoodles, your favorite.”

I smiled and stuffed the cookies into my purse. After all, a girl named Cookie could never turn down cookies. After paying, I stepped out onto the sidewalk. The sun percolated through the dense branches of the nearby oak tree and there was just a slight breeze floating through the air.

“Now that you've eaten, you can go over to the salon,” Sam said.

I knew I shouldn't do this. I'd probably be caught in the act, but Charlotte and Sam insisted, and it was so much easier to just go along with them than to argue. Okay, a little bit of me wanted to know what was going on too, so I headed in the direction of Brooke's salon.

I passed the coffee house and antique shop and stopped just at the edge of Brooke's salon. Taking in a deep breath, I pushed forward, but then stopped when I reached the big window at the front of the building. Brooke and Meaghan were talking. The conversation looked anything but friendly. Meaghan had her fists clenched at her sides and Brooke threw her hands up in the air. That was one argument I didn't want to be a part of. I turned and headed toward my shop. I just hoped that they hadn't seen me watching them.

“Aren't you going in there?” Charlotte asked as she hurried along behind me.

“I don't want to get in the middle of that,” I said.

Sam gestured. “It looks like you might be too late.”

When I glanced back, I spotted Meaghan behind me.

“Uh-oh, don't look now, but we're being followed,” I said out of the corner of my mouth.

“Why is she following you?” Sam asked.

“To kill me?” I replied.

“Don't say such things, Cookie,” Charlotte said.

“Cookie!” Meaghan called out.

“Do I have to turn around?” I asked.

“You don't have to do anything,” Sam said.

I knew that now that I'd reached my door, I would have to stop. I slowly turned around to face her.

“Are you following me?” Meaghan asked.

“Me? No, why do you ask?” I adjusted my purse strap and tried to act casual.

“I saw you at the park and I thought you had followed me.”

“I was just there to listen to the band,” I said.

“Now's your chance to ask about the bracelet,” Sam urged.

He was right; I had to take this opportunity. Just then Meaghan's phone rang.

She pulled it out of her pocket. “Just leave me alone,” she warned, and then turned around, placing the phone to her ear.

I watched as she stomped away.

“Well, that went well,” Charlotte said.

Chapter 17

 

 

Charlotte tapped her pretty polished fingernails against the counter. “You have put this off for far too long. I'm not going to tell you again.”

I stacked clothing in the back room. “What are you talking about, Charlotte?”

“You know what I'm talking about. You have to talk to Brooke House. She has been here awhile now and we know nothing about her.”

I placed the sweater on top of a pile and then turned to face her. “What good will it do if we're just being busybodies?”

She waved her finger at me. “You know you want to talk to her. Especially after finding out she has been cozy with Meaghan.”

Sam was standing in the corner of the room with his arms folded across his chest. He watched the two of us debate back and forth as if he was watching a tennis match. “Ladies, stop bickering and do something.”

I grabbed my keys. “I suppose the shop can be closed for a little while.”

Brooke's shop was just a couple blocks away, so I made the short walk. The weather had turned a little warmer today. It was still a typical fall day in the South. The rustle of the wind through the magnolia tree caught my attention. I had to pass the old graveyard on the way. Like I said before, one would think I wouldn't be scared considering I had two ghosts walking beside me, but that wasn't the case. Having Sam and Charlotte beside me was like a supernatural escort.

The outside of her building was white brick and the awning over the door was turquoise—one of my favorite colors.
BROOKE'S BEAUTY BUNGALOW
was painted in black letters on the windows. The sign in the door was turned to OPEN, but when I walked in, I didn't see another living soul. Just me and the ghosts.

“Is anyone here?” I called out.

The room remained silent except for the television that played softly at the back of the room.

“Where is everyone?” Sam asked.

“She won't be in business long if this is the way she runs things,” Charlotte said.

I looked around the shop and spotted two separate waiting areas on the right and left. Chairs and small end tables that had hairstyle magazines were the only furniture in the space. The fact that no one else was in the salon for treatment was not a good sign for Brooke.

Charlotte leaned over the counter and peeked at the schedule book. “No appointments today. If I wasn't so suspicious of her, I'd feel sorry for her,” Charlotte said.

It was kind of sad.

“You should get your hair done.” Charlotte leaned against the counter.

“How about I just have a manicure if she has the time,” I said.

Charlotte glanced at my hands. “Good idea. And what do you mean if she has time? Time is all she's got, apparently. But it doesn't look as if you are going to find her.”

“Hello? Is anyone here?” I called out again.

“I'll go look for her.” Charlotte headed toward the back of the shop.

Before she reached the hair dryers, Brooke stepped out from the back room. Her mouth dropped when she saw me. “Cookie, I am surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”

“I need a manicure.” I flashed my hands in her direction.

“Well, don't scare the poor woman. Put your hands down.” Charlotte waved.

I'd get Charlotte for that later. So I hadn't had a manicure in a few weeks.

“Please have a seat.” Brooke gestured toward the table in front of me. “Do you know what color polish you would like?”

I perused the shelves lining the walls for a color. “I like this pink.” I pulled the bottle from the shelf.

“A little dull, but I guess it's better than nothing,” Charlotte said.

I sat down on the small black chair in front of the manicure table. Brooke sat across from me and then pulled out her supplies for my manicure. She grabbed my right hand and started her work.

“Tell her to do something with those cuticles.” Charlotte pointed from over Brooke's shoulder.

“Don't forget the reason you came here,” Sam said.

“Ask her questions,” Charlotte prodded.

The ghosts chattering and barking orders was giving me a headache.

“How do you like living in Sugar Creek?” I asked.

“That is not a good question. Ask her something more personal. Where is her family?” Charlotte stood behind Brooke and tapped her foot against the floor.

“It's okay.” Brooke shrugged as she filed my fingernail.

Charlotte paced the length of the salon. “I don't understand. Why is she really here?”

Charlotte always thought there was something more. As if we never got the full story. Maybe it was just as simple as Brooke claimed. She wanted to start new.

After Brooke had finished, I pushed to my feet and headed toward the back of the salon. Brooke had said my nails were dry and when I touched them they felt dry, but I still worried that I'd mess up the pretty pink polish. I'd have to give it a shot though. Before I left I told her I needed to use the ladies' room. Of course that was just my excuse to take a peek around.

I passed the sinks and hair dryers and made it to the door marked
PRIVATE
. Just as I had placed my hand on the doorknob and opened the door leading into the back room, a loud screech came from the front of the salon. I whipped around to see what had happened. My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

Brooke had jumped up from her chair and was clutching her chest. Sam and Charlotte were laughing. Wind Song ran by me in a streak. She was nothing more than a white blur of fur. How had she gotten into the salon?

“Wind Song, what are you doing?” I yelled.

She had never acted that way before. Come to think of it, I'd never seen her move that quickly. She usually had one speed: slow. Wind Song ran into the back room and I chased after her.

“Get that cat out of here,” Brooke yelled.

Charlotte and Sam were still laughing. They were absolutely no help.

“Wind Song, stop,” I yelled out.

The cat didn't listen and she didn't stop. Now that she was in the back room, it seemed as if she was looking for something as she ran circles around the room. I chased after her, but it was no use. She was too fast for me. A couple times I thought I was going to get her, but I just stumbled forward instead.

“Wind Song, you have to stop.” I lunged forward again, but missed.

“What is she looking for?” Charlotte asked now that she'd finally stopped laughing.

“How am I supposed to know?” I asked.

“It's like she's lost her mind,” Charlotte said.

Wind Song stopped just long enough to pull out a bag from the stacks of items that Brooke had piled around in the back room. Once the cat had used her paw to knock the brown shopping bag to the floor, a shoe fell out. As soon as I spotted that shoe I recognized it right away. I glanced over and saw that Brooke was now in the room with me. She looked at the shoe and then at me.

“How did that get there?” She raced over and grabbed the black heel and stuffed it back into the bag.

If she was trying to hide it from me, then it was already too late. How did the shoe get there? Was there really only one shoe in the bag? It looked exactly like the shoes that Hannah had worn the night of the fashion show. Like the shoe that had been used to murder Melanie. And I knew where the matching shoe was: the Sugar Creek Police Department evidence room.

I knew by the look on Brooke's face that she knew I was suspicious. “This isn't my shoe or bag. I don't know how it got back here.”

Wind Song had raced out of the room after uncovering the evidence.

“This is highly suspicious, Cookie. You should get out of here,” Charlotte said.

Charlotte didn't have to ask me twice. I definitely felt uncomfortable and wanted out as soon as possible. That had to be the missing shoe, right? Why else would Brooke only have one shoe in there? And how had Wind Song known to show me that shoe? What was I saying? The cat could communicate with us. Of course she could find a missing shoe. I had no idea what to say or do. I was frozen on the spot. I knew that I had to tell Dylan about this. The police needed to collect the evidence if that was what it was. I took a couple steps back toward the door. I had to make a run for it and hope that Brooke couldn't run as fast as me.

“That's not my shoe,” she repeated.

No matter how many times she said it I wasn't sure I would ever believe her.

“Just agree with her, Cookie. If she's the killer, then you don't know what she is capable of if she gets angry.” Sam motioned for me to join him at the front of the salon.

I took a couple of steps to my left. “I believe you, Brooke.”

“I don't know how it got here,” she said.

The look on her face made me almost feel sorry for her. I knew that people could be deceiving, though, so I wasn't going to fall for it.

“Maybe a customer left it,” I said.

She stared at me for a moment, then said, “That's probably what happened.”

I hoped that calmed her enough so that I would have time to get out of there.

“Why would anyone leave that here though?” Brooke asked. “That makes me so angry.”

“The last thing you need is for her to be angry,” Sam said. “Just act like you're her friend. Maybe then you can get her to confess.”

I doubted that would be happening anytime soon.

“I don't think anyone left it on purpose,” I said, trying to make her feel better.

“Oh, please, I saw the look on your face when you realized it was the same kind of shoe as the one used to kill Melanie.”

I offered Brooke a big smile.

“That is not a convincing look.” Charlotte pointed out.

I never claimed to be an actress.

“Why did you let your cat in here anyway?” she asked.

I hadn't let Wind Song in and I still didn't know how she'd gotten out of my shop and in here. I had a lot of unanswered questions too. I knew I had locked my doors. Was there another way out?

“I'm sorry that Wind Song got in here. I promise it won't happen again,” I said.

She brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Well, just see that it doesn't. I can't have animals in the salon. My customers won't like it.”

Charlotte snorted. “Yes, all those imaginary customers.”

“I should leave,” I said.

After going back to the front of the salon, I grabbed my purse, pulled out money, and left it on the table. Brooke had followed me out.

“I'll see you soon.” I tucked my bag under my arm and rushed out of the shop.

“That was a close one,” Sam said.

I wasn't sure what Brooke might do. I needed to call Dylan as soon as possible. I knew Brooke would never speak to me again. But if she was the killer, then I didn't want her to talk to me. Once out on the sidewalk, I glanced back. Brooke was standing in the window watching me.

“Okay, that is just creepy,” Charlotte said.

I spotted Wind Song right outside the door and scooped her up. “What are you doing, Wind Song?”

She meowed.

I'd have to get Heather to bring the Ouija board if I wanted any kind of real answer. I glanced at my nails. Of course they had smudged. I knew my nails would be messed up, but that was the least of my problems.

“That was some stunt you pulled off, Wind Song,” Charlotte said.

If I didn't know better I'd say the cat smiled. Of course that wasn't possible.

When I'd reached my shop, I thought for sure the front door would be open. But it was locked just the way that I'd left it. I had no idea how the cat had gotten out. I unlocked the door and placed Wind Song on the floor. She ran over to her favorite spot in the sun as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I went to the back of the store to see if the back door was open, but it was still locked as well. It looked as if this would forever be a mystery unless the cat decided to tell me how she'd escaped.

The bell on the door jingled and I hurried to the front of the shop.

“Oh, thank goodness it's you,” I said.

Heather walked toward me. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“You never know.” I brushed my forehead with the back of my hand.

“You look a little stressed. What happened?” she asked.