Wave Good-Bye (31 page)

As I counted out change for the cashier, Agent Dillon stepped up behind me. “Got a minute?”

“How’d you find me?” I followed him to a back table. “My mother?”

He chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

I took one seat and he sat down across from me. “She didn’t do it.”

“I figured you say that.”

“So she owns a black hoodie. Big deal. I bet half the people under forty in this town have a dark-colored sweatshirt with a hood.”

“Right. But hers happened to have hairs from Lisa Butterworth’s head on it.”

“So? If you didn’t notice, Eve owns a hair salon. Coming home with stray hairs on you is part of the gig!”

He cleared his throat. “Grace Ann, I bet very few of the hairs on your clothes have follicles attached to them. I seriously doubt you yank them out of your client’s head in a clump, do you?”

“Oh.”

“Eat your lunch. Your mama also told me to make sure you ate before you came back. If you don’t mind, I’ll grab a sandwich and join you.”

My turkey tasted like paste in my mouth. Usually, I love pickles, but today, they held little appeal. By the time Marsh sat back down, I’d pretty much given up on my food.

“You have to eat to keep up your strength. You can’t
help your friend if you aren’t thinking clearly,” he said as he bit into a meatball sub.

“Be careful. You’re going to get that on your tie.” I reached over and moved the silk, pressing it gently against his chest. Even without touching his flesh, my fingers started tingling.

His smile was kind. “I know you believe in her. Trust me, I had good reason to take her in.”

I nodded. “You know about her borrowing Carol Brockman’s car?”

“She neglected to tell me that when I first questioned her.” He chewed with his mouth shut. I like that in a man. “Worse yet, your ex-husband’s interviews were of little help. I can’t decide whether they are hard to decipher because he’s nearly illiterate or because he was purposely trying to withhold information from me so he could look like a hero.”

“Take your pick. Either is plausible. Hank wouldn’t have graduated from high school if he hadn’t been on the football team. As for how he made it through the police academy, well, you’re looking at his personal tutor.”

“That doesn’t surprise me one bit. It also explains why you seem to get in the thick of these investigations, and you always have a better handle on what’s happening than he does.”

I nibbled on my pickle. “So let me guess what you’re thinking. You’re betting that Eve arranged to meet Lisa at the salon. Maybe even text messaged her after she and Wynn parted company. Once Lisa was in the building, Eve confronted her. They got into a hair-pulling match. Eve hit Lisa between the eyes, and whammo, she fell into the tank. Eve left, not realizing Lisa would drown.”

“You know I can’t discuss this with you, Grace Ann. Let’s change the subject. I saw that the salon was super busy.”

“Ghouls. I guess everyone wanted to get the scoop.” I used my index finger to smash a potato chip into smithereens. I got up, refilled my sweet tea, and sat back down. “I’m happy for the business, it’s true, and I’ve been able to find work for the entire crew from Violetta’s, but there’s something about acting like a flock of turkey vultures picking at roadkill that turns my stomach.”

“Sorry about that. People can be disappointing.” His brow furled, and it seemed as though a weight bowed his shoulders. “Believe me, I struggle every day against becoming cynical. I became an agent because I wanted to help people. I know that sounds incredibly corny, but it’s true. The times when I feel I’ve been able to help are few and far between, especially when I make an arrest like this. I can tell you think a lot of Mrs. Goodman. I’m sorry this is distressing to you.”

“That’s okay, Marsh. It’s going to be a lot more distressing to you when you discover how wrong you are.”

Chapter Fifty-three

MY BRAVADO FADED QUICKLY AS I TRUDGED BACK TO the salon. The sugar maple next to Snippets wore only a sparse sprinkling of its red leaves. They crunched underfoot as I walked back from Subway, their sharp autumn essence stopping me in my tracks. I took a deep breath and tried to wish myself away from here. Maybe I could tumble along like one of those fallen leaves. Who knows where I’d land? Maybe underfoot or in a gutter. The fact that the leaves were dying didn’t escape my notice.

My mother took the Subway bag from my hand gratefully and said, “Thanks, hon. I hope you don’t mind about me sending Agent Dillon your way. He’s such a nice man.”

“Nice but wrong.”

“Grace Ann, he’s got access to all the facts, and you don’t,” she whispered while her customer used the hand mirror to examine the back of her cut. Mom had shaped it perfectly so it lay flat at the woman’s neck, and from where I stood, I could see she’d also managed to work around a nasty cowlick. My mom was still the best hairstylist I knew, even if she did say I was more talented. Her years of experience gave her the ability to tackle tough problems, like cowlicks or overprocessed hair or hair that was too thin or thick, and solve them so that her clients always looked great.

I bent my head close to hers so the customer couldn’t hear us. “I know. I know. But I still don’t believe she did it, do you?”

My mother’s voice was sorrowful as she watched the client examining herself. “Hon, people do things for the darnedest reasons. She is pregnant. Hormones can make you crazy. There was talk on the radio, I guess, about it having been an accident.”

“Maybe.” I turned my attention to the customer and said, “That’s very becoming on you.”

Watching the customer pick up her purse and amble toward the cash register, I turned to Mom and whispered, “Here’s the thing: Eve was more than ready to take the blame for what Lisa did. She apologized to you even though she hadn’t been involved. When she hired me, she also told me she’d give us back our customers. Why would a woman who’s so upright not take responsibility for an accident? Hmm? All she had to do was call her attorney and tell him what happened.”

“There’s a lot of difference between confessing to your employee’s misconduct and confessing to murder,” Mom said as she wadded up the used cape and pushed it into the soiled-linens bin.

“But if it was an accident? I mean, doesn’t that change everything?”

“You tell me.” Mom’s eyes reflected sadness. “Maybe she’s covering up for someone.”

“Wynn?” I couldn’t keep the skepticism out of my voice.

“They say that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all God’s angels. That man could wrap anyone around his finger. I see now why you fell for him even though he’s such a snake. I swannee, he’s enough to make an old woman like me weak in the knees.” She chuckled and set the comb, brush, and pins she’d used inside a towel to take over to the sterilization unit.

“But he came to me all worried that she’d done it! Mom, he’s not real bright. I can’t see Wynn keeping his mouth shut if he was to blame.”

“Surely he isn’t that dumb.”

“Mom, he would give himself away. Trust me. I know he would. He doesn’t think things through very well. He’s a totally impulsive person.”

She pursed her lips. “If neither of them did it, who did? Grace Ann, I know you want to believe in this young woman, and I’ll be the first to admit she could charm the birds out of the trees, but maybe she just snapped. Maybe you ought to quit playing detective and leave the job to Agent Dillon.”

Her words hurt because they echoed my own doubts. Was it possible I was wrong about Eve? Okay, so she was vulnerable and sweet. Not at all what I had expected. That didn’t necessarily make her innocent. Under the circumstances, who could blame her for Lisa’s death? Hadn’t Marsh said it could have been an accident? Perhaps a confrontation led to a struggle, complete with scratches and hair pulling, and then to a smackdown, with Lisa landing in the fish tank.

Or was it possible that Eve was covering up for Wynn? Knowing that he was claustrophobic, and that he wasn’t particularly bright, did she decide to take the fall? Given her sterling track record as an entrepreneur and her pregnancy, wouldn’t a judge and jury treat her with leniency? And if they knew her father was losing it, might they not suspend her sentence? Was she counting on them being compassionate? Had she weighed her chances against Wynn’s and decided that she was more likely to be given a short sentence or a suspended one?

Maybe Marsh is right. Mom, too. What business do I have playing detective? And as for being a good judge of character, look at who I’d married!

Trying to shake off my gloomy thoughts, I did a quick check on all the stylists. My rounds took me past the front window. A horn honked and brought me back to the present. Two cars, a Honda and a Camaro, fought for the last available parking space in front of the salon. The media attention to Eve’s arrest continued to bring customers to our doors.

The irony of this situation did not escape me. It had all started with me wanting more business for Violetta’s. Now, it was ending with a lot of business coming our way, but certainly not as I had planned.

“Lisa Butterworth, you are some marketing genius. You got yourself killed, Eve arrested, and more foot traffic than you can shake a stick at.”

Carol appeared at my elbow. “Eve’s on the phone.”

“Eve? Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes, and I don’t have much time, so please listen carefully. Steven Clifford can’t get out here until tomorrow. He’s in Montana and the airport is socked in with a freak early snowstorm. I’m fine waiting here. They gave me a
cell by myself and I’m okay, but I’d like for you to come pick up my personal effects. I don’t want my rings sitting here overnight.”

“Sure, I’ll come get them.”

“Thanks, Grace Ann. I knew I could count on you.” A voice in the background hurried her along. “Got to go.”

Chapter Fifty-four

I DROVE TO THE SEPD AND SPOKE TO THE TRUSTEE at the jail.

“Hey. I’m Grace Ann Terhune. My friend Eve Sebastiani Goodman asked me to stop by and sign for her personal possessions.” I craned my neck around the hulk of a man in uniform, trying to catch a glimpse of Eve.

“Yes, ma’am. I have the paperwork right here.”

A clipboard was offered to me with a pen pinched under the clip. Scanning the document, I quickly found the spots for my signature. The trustee exchanged the papers for a manila envelope with an inventory sheet stapled to the front.

“Mind if I check to make sure everything’s here?” I asked.

“Suit yourself.” The trustee feigned boredom as Eve’s huge rings tumbled out along with her iPhone, her Italian leather wallet, her Gucci sunglasses, and her Patek Philippe watch. The manifest stated she had $4,523.25 when apprehended. I did a quick count of the cash, and the figures dovetailed.

“Who walks around with that sort of money on her?” The trustee stared at the bills in my hand.

“A very wealthy woman,” I said. “And a nice one, too. She’s innocent.”

“That’s what they all say.”

I slipped the envelope into my purse and walked out. As I did, I felt bad knowing that Eve was back there in a cell. I just couldn’t believe she was the one who killed Lisa Butterworth.

With a long afternoon ahead, I drove through the McDonald’s on my way back to work and bought two sweet teas, one for Mom and one for me.

“Thank you so much, honey. I just saw Suzee walking toward the employee lounge. Let’s go sit in there. You’ve been on your feet all day. Why don’t you join me for a spell?”

Suzee watched my mother take a load off in one of the big stuffed chairs. “Mrs. Terhune? There’s a remote control in the side pocket if you want to start the massaging action.”

“You don’t say? Please call me Violetta,” Mom said.

“I was so hungry, my stomach was growling,” said Suzee as she dipped a fork into a Tupperware salad bowl. “It took me forever to concentrate. I kept thinking about Lisa and that oversized fish bowl.”

“I wanted to thank you for how you pitched in,” I said to Suzee. “You’ve been great.”

She shrugged.

“Even so, I know you were next in line. It has to be a disappointment.”

“Look, I’m not a morning person and I wasn’t sure I could work here after what happened. I admit I wasn’t very friendly to you this morning. But I might as well tell you, Eve’s promised to make me the manager in Savannah when the old manager leaves next month. Please keep it quiet until she can announce it.”