Tressed to Kill (26 page)

“This is kind of therapeutic,” she told me, her voice muffled by the mask. “Try it.”
I did, slinging the sledge hammer at the far end of the wall so hard I thought it would pull my arms out of their sockets. I did it again. Mom was right; there was something freeing in the act of whacking down a wall. It was so contrary to what we’re all taught to do. We build walls, or mend them, or paint them; we don’t knock holes in them. I set the hammer down after only a few minutes. I was breathing heavily, and sweat was already pouring down my sides. The air was white with drifting particles, like a thick fog had seeped into the building. Althea and Mom and Walter all looked like ghosts, their clothing, hair, and exposed skin coated white. I imagined I looked the same.
“Let’s get some of this debris out of here,” Althea said practically when Walter set his sledge down. “Looks like plaster and wallboard and heaven knows what else.” Trundling the wheelbarrow closer to the wall, she began picking up the biggest slabs of wall and tossing them in.
I was thinking that I should run out to get some bottled water for all of us when Althea screeched and scrambled back from the wall. She stopped ten feet from it, trembling.
The three of us rushed toward her. I was afraid she’d stepped on a rusty nail and was already planning to drive her to the urgent care clinic for a tetanus shot when Mom asked, “Althea! What’s wrong?”
Althea’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Finally, she pointed. While Mom examined her friend, looking for cuts or nail punctures, I guessed, Walter and I stepped closer to the wall. The dust had settled somewhat, and we could see into the opening, a space about eighteen inches wide that ran the length of the wall.
“I see nothing out of the ordinary,” Walter said, edging a chunk of drywall out of the way with his foot.
Something red caught my eye. I leaned forward to examine it, my head and shoulders inside the space that, up until twenty minutes ago, had been a wall. What I saw made me gasp. Sliding my mask down over my chin, I drew in a deep breath. I steadied myself and looked again to be sure. The red was the tattered remains of a shirt, I thought, and it hung on the gleaming white bones of a skeleton. I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that we had found William Jenkins and Carl Rowan.
“THEY MUST HAVE GONE TO SEE PHILIP DUBOIS at the bank after the poker game,” my mom said later that afternoon as we sat on the veranda, recovering with tea and snickerdoodles from another round of police interviews. “And he shot them.”
The medical examiner had found a bullet hole in each skull.
“No wonder that bank was closed up for so long,” Althea said. “We thought it was just because they had moved to the new building. We never suspected.”
I’d thought she would be traumatized by the day’s events, but she seemed calm, even peaceful.
As if she’d read my thoughts, she turned to look at me. Her familiar face with its cocoa skin and warm brown eyes was dear to me, and I blinked back tears as she said, “It was the not knowing that bothered me all these years. Now, we can lay him to rest. He deserves to rest easy.” She lapsed into silence, sipping at her tea. A fly buzzed around her head, but she ignored it.
She’d already talked to the funeral home and made arrangements for a burial at Cypress Grove Cemetery on Saturday. I knew the whole town would be there.
“I guess that’s why Constance left you the building,” I said, the thought suddenly hitting me. “Maybe it was her way of making reparations.”
“Hmph,” was all Althea said.
“Hey, y’all,” a voice called from the foot of the stairs.
The three of us looked down, resigned, to see Hank Parker clomping up the stairs, a rectangular box tucked under his arm. “So, I hear you found some more bodies over at the old bank building,” he said with a smile, like he was congratulating us for finding the prize in a Cracker Jack box or winning a scavenger hunt. “I wish I’d been on duty.”
When we stared at him, not replying, he shuffled his feet. “Here, Grace, I brought this for you.” He thrust the box at me.
Surprised, I took it. “Thank you,” I said automatically, uncomfortable and irritated by a gift from Hank. So why had I said “thank you”? I pushed it back toward him. “You shouldn’t be giving me gifts, Hank.”
He whipped his hands behind his back so he couldn’t take the box. His smile never faltered. “Now, now, Grace, it’s just a little something. I remembered what you were wearing that night when the house was broken into.”
I began hastily opening the box to get the man off our porch as quickly as possible.
“You should maybe wait—” Hank started uneasily.
Two pieces of purple satin trimmed with stiff black lace fell out. They lay on the veranda with four pairs of eyes fixed on them.
“Oh, my.” Mom sighed, rolling her eyes up. “God grant me patience.”
I struggled with emotions ranging from embarrassment to rage.
Althea, however, bent and picked up the thong, testing its stretchy elastic waistband with two fingers. “ ’Bout the only thing this is good for is running off fools who don’t have the sense God gave a tadpole and have tacky taste in underthings, to boot.”
“Now, wait a minute, Miss Althea,” Hank said, backing down two steps.
Ignoring him, she braced a forefinger against the waistband, pulled back with her other hand, and slingshot the thong toward Hank’s head. It looped around his right ear, and he turned to run as she loaded the nightie top into firing position.
Hank pounded down the sidewalk as Mom said, “Ready, aim, fire!”
Althea launched the lingerie. It fell well short of Hank’s fleeing figure. The three of us high-fived each other, laughing so hard we doubled over.
“I’d call that a good day’s work,” Althea said, wiping her eyes. “We find my husband and we run yours off with a few scraps of lace and some spandex. It doesn’t get any better than that.”
I had to agree.

Organic Skin-Care Recipes

Moisturizing Treatments

For Normal or Oily Skin:
1 avocado, mashed
1 tsp. raspberry balsamic vinegar (white or apple cider
vinegars work just as well; Althea prefers the scent of
the raspberry balsamic)
3 tsps. sesame oil (you can also use olive oil or almond oil)
1 tsp. honey
1 egg white, beaten
Combine the first four ingredients, mixing to a paste. Beat egg white and add last, mixing well. Apply to face, neck, and chest (as desired). Let sit for approximately 20-30 minutes, then rinse gently with tepid water.
For Dry Skin:
1 tbsp. Greek yogurt (any plain yogurt will work—Althea
likes the texture of Greek)
1 egg yolk
˝ cup cooked oatmeal (traditional oatmeal works better
than instant or microwave)
2 tsps. honey
1-2 tsps. mint, chopped
Mix all ingredients in small bowl until well blended. Apply to face, neck, and chest (as desired). Relax for 20 minutes, then rinse with tepid water.

Exfoliating Treatment

2 tbsp. kosher salt
1 ˝ tsps. honey
1 ˝ tsps. olive oil
Juice of ˝ lemon or 1 tsp. lemon juice from bottle
Mix all ingredients in small bowl. Rub gently into face, elbows, heels, chest (wherever exfoliation is needed). The key word is “gently,” especially on delicate facial skin. Even natural exfoliants such as salt and sugar can cause microscopic skin tears if used too roughly or too frequently. Rinse immediately with tepid water.

[ABOUT THE AUTHOR]

Author of the Southern Beauty Shop Mysteries, Lila Dare was born in Georgia and has lived in Alabama, Mississippi, and Virginia, as well as in some bastions of Yankee culture. Although she has never worked in a beauty shop, she has spent plenty of time in salons and likes to tell her stylist: “Just do what you think would look good.” Maybe that’s why there’s no picture of her available. She currently lives west of the Mississippi with her husband, two daughters, and dog, and misses Southern manners, cooking, and friendliness, but not the humidity.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Organic Skin-Care Recipes

[ABOUT THE AUTHOR]