Maddie Cochere - Two Sisters and a Journalist 01 - Murder Under Construction (10 page)

“Stop at the McDonald’s in Patterson,” I said. “I’m hungry. I’ll buy your lunches, too. I think I can write lunches off on my taxes. We’re technically on the job while we investigate Ruby’s murder.” I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen out of my purse. “I should start keeping track of everything. How many miles have we gone so far? What’s the mileage right now?”

Pepper laughed. “You can’t deduct our lunches, and you can’t write off mileage from my car. You can’t do anything with expenses until you’re licensed. You’ll need an accountant. Use Buck’s. He’s good, and he’ll tell you what you can and can’t do.”

I wrote on my paper:
Talk to Buck about his accountant
. Below that, I wrote:
Ask Jackie about a mentor - and a gun
. I shoved both pen and paper back into my purse.

“A McRib sounds good for lunch,” I said. “I’ve never had one. Have you?”

Pepper chuckled. “No, but Buck and Keith act like it’s Christmas when they get them.”

“McRibs are gross,” Kelly said. “The meat is spongy and weird. You can’t get one now anyway. They don’t have them in the summer.”

“You’re kidding? Since when?” I asked.

“Since always. You can only get them when it’s cold,” she said. “I thought you guys were on diets.”

Pepper gave her a disapproving look in the rear-view mirror. “We’re not on diets. We’re just working out and trying to eat healthier.”

“Ok, nix the McRib,” I said. “I really do want to eat healthier and quit eating so much junk. I should probably have a salad for lunch. Are we going to shake our booties again tonight?”

“Yeah. I can go,” Pepper said. “Mama’s coming over, so she can stay with the kids while I’m gone. Let’s go around seven.”

~ ~ ~

Margaret’s Nail Confections was a surprise. The business was situated in the front portion of a two-story house. Bright green stairs and a bright green porch led to a bright green door. A pink and yellow striped awning flapped above the porch. A large window to the left of the door sported a whipped cream design with
Margaret’s Nail Confections
in a curvy pink and yellow font. Elaborate nail designs covered a smaller window to the right.

Electricity shot through my body. This was the kind of excitement and nervousness I’d only ever felt when waiting for a first date to show up – when I was a teenager. I knew I was minutes away from finding out Ruby’s true identity.

Pepper opened the door, and we filed in.

My excitement was promptly extinguished. There was no activity in the salon. None. There were no employees or customers. There was no Margie.

“Hello?” Pepper called out.

The large room was clean and tidy. A desk with a laptop sat unattended near the front door. The rest of the room was set up with five nail stations - three on one side of the room and two on the other. The lighted sign on the door clearly indicated the business was open.

“Hey! Anybody here?” Kelly yelled.

Pepper shushed her. “If no one comes in another minute, we should leave,” she said.

There was no way I was leaving. I parked myself at one of the stations to wait. A few moments later, a door at the back of the room opened, and a girl entered. She had wicked long, purple fingernails that appeared wrapped around a can of cola with a straw bobbing in it. From experience, I knew the straw would soon be out of the can and onto the floor.

“Sorry, ladies,” she said. “I was in the kitchen. How can I help you?”

“We’d like to have our nails done,” Pepper said.

The girl set the can down on the desk. The straw bobbed out and rolled onto the floor. I smiled.

“Most of our technicians work by appointment only, but Keri will be back shortly. Let me make a couple of calls to see if any of the other girls are available.” She pointed to the back of the room. “If you go through that door, you’ll find the kitchen and the bathroom. Help yourself to soda or coffee while you wait.”

I remained seated at the nail station while Pepper and Kelly went in search of drinks. It was fascinating to watch the girl push numbers on the phone with her freakish nails.

“Franny, we have three together. Can you come over for one?” She waited for a response. “Ok. Thanks”

She dialed again. And again. She dialed a third time.

“We have three. I need one more.” She paused. “You’re the last.” Another pause. “Ok. See you soon.”

She smiled and said, “You’re all covered. Do you have designs in mind?”

I shook my head. “We don’t. We thought you might have books of pictures we could look through.”

She pointed to a shelf of photo albums. “Each technician has a portfolio of work they’ve done. You can look through those to see if there’s something you like, or you can come up with a design of your own.”

Pepper and Kelly came back into the room with cans of diet cola. We sat together at the small station and flipped through the books. After Kelly said
ew
for the umpteenth time, and Pepper shushed her for the umpteenth time, we opened a book with normal nails and pretty art.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Kelly said pointing to a dragon spread across five nails. “Ooh,” she squealed, “this is even better.” She pointed to black nails with a pink and white Hello Kitty design on them.

“I can live with that,” Pepper said. “If that’s what you want, go ahead and get it.”

“What do you like?” I asked Pepper.

She grabbed one of the books we had already looked through and opened to the back. “I think I’m going to go with this. White polish, black dots and red hearts.”

“That’s cute,” I said with a nod of approval.

“What are you going to get, Aunt Jo?”

I pulled out my phone and brought up Ruby’s hand. “I’m getting this.”

Pepper shook her head, and Kelly said, “Ew.”

A girl in tight jeans and a tank top bustled through the front door. Her arms were loaded down with plastic bags from the local grocery store. Purple Fingernails jumped up to take the bags from her and said, “Three walk-ins. They know what they want. Yours is the kid.”

“Hi,” she said to all of us. “I’m Keri.” She looked at Kelly and the portfolio in front of her. “I guess you’re with me today. What did you find?”

Kelly told the girl her name and pointed to the Hello Kitty design.

“I love that one,” she said. “Come on over here and have a seat.”

Pepper and I waited for our technicians to show up.

“Jo, you’re going out with Stewart on Saturday. Why don’t you get your nails done in a way that will make you feel good and that you can enjoy for a while? The tangerine color isn’t right for you. You need a bright red.”

Maybe she was right. I had seen a blood red color with black tips and a thin black line below the tip. It was sophisticated, but also had a fun flair.

Two women came into the room at the same time, one from the kitchen area and one through the front door. They introduced themselves, and Pepper and I indicated the designs we had chosen. Upbeat music erupted from speakers, and we were all finally settled with our hands in front of us on tables.

There was no Margie or Margaret in sight. The woman doing Pepper’s nails was Franny, and the woman doing my nails was Bertie. Bertie was a large woman with sparkling eyes and an unrestrained laugh. She was wearing a muumuu and flip-flops. Her hair was tucked under a bandana. She went right to work cutting and filing my nails. She worked fast, but she talked faster.

“I was right in the middle of defrosting and cleaning the freezer when Missy called and said we were swamped, and I needed to rush right over to help out. I dropped everything and ran out the door.”

I held back a laugh. Purple Fingernails, who I now knew was Missy, barely said two words when she called for help. I somehow missed the swamped and rush right over part.

Bertie barely stopped talking long enough to take a breath. “I shouldn’t put anything in that old freezer in the first place. It’s out in the garage, and once something ends up in there, it’s out of sight, out of mind. There was deer meat from when Junior went hunting years ago. I suppose I’ll cook it up for the dogs. I had to throw out all the pork in the bottom. It had terrible freezer burn. Why do you suppose that happens? I nearly died when I found Snowball in there. I thought my husband buried that poor old cat last year. It was winter and the ground was frozen when he died, so he wrapped him up and put him in the freezer. I thought Junior buried him in the spring, but when I opened that package marked cake and found Snowball, I nearly crapped my pants.”

Kelly let out a laugh. The other employees didn’t react and kept working. They were probably used to Bertie providing all of the entertainment.

“Have you ever had an accident like that?” she asked. “Boy, I have. Both times in Walmart. I’ve written letters to management that they need more than one restroom in a big store like that, but nobody ever wrote me back. Junior just started this year with the walking farts. He’ll get up from his chair, and with every step he takes, he toots. He says he can’t help it, but I think he does it on purpose because he likes it, and it makes company laugh.”

I was careful not to make eye contact with Pepper. I knew if we looked at each other, there would be no way I could continue to hold back explosive laughter.

It took nearly two hours, and several more bodily function stories from Bertie, before we were done, but all three of us were delighted with our finished looks. I stood in front of Missy’s desk and waited for the bill.

“That’ll be one hundred and sixty-four dollars,” she said.

I nearly fell over. I didn’t say anything, but Pepper knew the dollar amount would give me a heart attack. It had been a long time since I’d had my nails done professionally, but I figured our nails, including the art, wouldn’t be more than seventy-five dollars for the three of us.

“Here, Jo,” Pepper said. She leaned over to pick up her purse. “Let me pay for Kelly and me. You can get your own.”

I quickly recovered. “No, I have it. I promised to treat today.” I pulled my one and only credit card from my wallet.

“Well then, let me leave the tip,” Pepper said. Before I could argue, she was handing cash to each technician.

Before leaving the salon, I asked, “Does the owner come in often?”

“Didn’t I tell you? This is my shop,” Bertie said. “I don’t do nails as often as I used to, but when we get busy, I come over and help out.”

My mouth must have been hanging open, because Bertie said, “I don’t usually dress like this when I work, but you know, I was cleaning the freezer.”

I smiled. “It’s not that. It’s your name. Are you Margaret?”

“I sure am. Born a Margaret and went by Margie my whole life until I got married. Junior called me Big Bertha until he finally shortened it to Bertie, and that’s how everyone knows me now.”

I pulled my phone out and showed her the picture of Ruby’s hand. “Do you recognize this design? Did you or someone here do this?”

“That’s a popular look right now, but I remember this color. Wasn’t this from that wedding party two weeks ago?” She looked to the other girls for confirmation.

Missy said, “It was the Bristol party. Carol Bristol. They booked the bride and five bridesmaids. They all had the same design done on both hands and feet.”

“Do you have the names of the bridesmaids?” I asked.

Missy shook her head. “We book wedding parties under the bride’s name only. Even if the girls told the technicians their names, chances are they wouldn’t remember them.”

“Why do you want to know?” Bertie asked.

“This girl was murdered last Saturday. The police don’t have any leads. They think she was a prostitute from Pittsburgh who went by the name of Ruby. I’m trying to find out who she really was so her family can be notified.”

Bertie put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, how terrible. The poor girl.”

“Are you a police officer?” Missy asked.

Kelly piped up. “No, but she and my mom are going to have a reality TV show and solve crimes. They’re going to solve this one, because the police don’t care about prostitutes.”

Pepper gave Kelly a big shush.

“I’m not a police officer,” I said, “but I’m going to be a private investigator. I found the body at a construction site in Buxley. The police have run into a dead end and don’t intend to pursue it further, so with the help of my sister here and a journalist friend, we’re trying to find out what happened to her.”

“Did you know if any of the bridesmaids were pregnant?” Pepper asked.

All of the ladies shook their heads no.

“We talk to a lot of people every day, and with everyone sharing personal information, it all sort of runs together after a while,” Bertie said.

“It’s the law,” Kelly said.

Pepper shushed her again.

I wrote my name and the number to the red phone down on a piece of paper and gave it to Bertie. I’d have to add hooking up an answering machine to my list of things to do. “If you think of anything, or if any of your other technicians know anything, please give me a call.”