Half Past Dead (4 page)

“Here's a furnished home that's perfect for you.” She pulled up the listing. “The yard has nice shade trees for your dog.”

“Hey, Redd. That looks like a good yard for you.” He leveled his striking blue eyes on her. “Let's see the inside.”

Tori raved about the three-bedroom ranch-style home and the tacky furniture. She had to admit it was a good deal. If it weren't for the neighbors, it would have been snapped up long ago.

Justin nodded approvingly. “Will the owner mind if I install a dog door?”

“Not a problem,” she assured him. The owner would be overjoyed to get anything out of this. “He wants a year's lease, first and last month's rent, and a security deposit.” She pretended to think for a moment, making everything up as she went. “He may ask for a little extra in the security deposit because of the dog.”

“Seems fair,” he replied. “Let's go see it.”

She grabbed her purse from the drawer, deliberately bending over so that he could catch a glimpse of her impressive cleavage. Just because she'd tricked Justin didn't mean she couldn't flirt with him. It would be fun, and it would make Clay jealous. He'd always hated Justin Radner. No telling what Clay would do.

K
AT GLANCED AROUND
her new studio apartment over a beauty parlor. It was one large room with a kitchenette off to the side. Scuffed linoleum that might once have been yellow covered the floor. It was furnished with a small Formica kitchen table and two mismatched chairs. In a small alcove stood a faded green convertible sofa pocked with cigarette burns. A battered brown trunk served as a coffee table. The stale odor of cigarette smoke filled the small studio. It wasn't much, but to her, it was heaven.

She now had a home, a car and a job. It was clear Harlan Westcott had known she would agree to his proposition. They'd rented this place, bought a junker car, and arranged for a job, all of which had taken time and planning.

She'd tried her best to pry the truth about her mission out of Special Agent Wilson, the man assigned to be her handler. He hadn't told her any more than Harlan had. She was to call Wilson immediately if anyone contacted her about the funds missing from the bank. If she sensed imminent danger, she had the local number of some mysterious undercover agent who could immediately come to her aid. The presence of this undercover guy made her even more suspicious. What would someone be investigating in Twin Oaks that required deep cover?

The only thing she could think of was the riverboat casino docked just outside of town. She had no idea how she fit into any of this, but not knowing gave her a deep sense of dread she couldn't shake.

She walked into the bathroom and gazed at her reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror. Tori stared back at her. Losing weight had changed her face. Now she had Tori's green eyes and high cheekbones. Her hair was dishwater brown, though, while Tori's must still be vibrant blond.

In prison she'd noticed how her face had changed, but hadn't thought about what it would mean when she came home. She didn't want anyone—especially Tori and her mother—to think she was copying Tori. She wondered if the salon downstairs could help her. Special Agent Wilson had stopped in Jackson where she'd purchased clothes. He'd given her money to tide her over until her first paycheck. She hadn't ventured out into the town yet.

“Get over it,” she told her reflection. She grabbed her purse and headed downstairs.

The wooden slats creaked beneath her feet. She stopped and lifted her face to the sun with a smile. She remembered how the world had shut down around her when she'd been sent to prison. The walls closed in and it hurt to breathe the tainted air. She was finally free to smell fresh air with a hint of honeysuckle and to enjoy sunshine on her face.

She took the long way around the building to the salon. She walked slowly, admiring the dogwood trees lining the street. Their white blossoms swayed slightly in the breeze. After dark, she would pick a few to brighten up her place.

A hummingbird caught her eye as it flitted from flower to flower in the clay pots outside Petrie's Hardware. It stretched its tiny neck out, wings aflutter, and sipped nectar from each blossom. The bird was so beautiful and graceful that watching it warmed her heart. Nothing in over three years had soothed her like this.

She thought about her mother. In a small town, news spread quickly. Soon Loretta Wells would know Kat was home. Would she come to see Kat? Would Tori?

A permanent sorrow weighed her down when she thought about her family. They'd deserted her when she'd needed them the most. She gazed at the industrious hummingbird and reminded herself that she was free. Enjoy it.

Kat entered All Washed Up just as a woman about her age was putting an elderly lady in perm rollers under the dryer. It took a second for Kat to recognize Lola Rae Phillips. They had gone to school together since kindergarten, but they'd never been friends. Lola Rae had entered beauty school in Natchez just about the time Kat had gone to work at the bank.

Lola Rae walked away from the dryer, staring at Kat. She stopped, wiped her hands on her apron, saying, “Kat? Is that you?”

“Yes. It's me,” Kat replied, trying for a smile.

With a wide, toothy grin, Lola Rae dashed across the room. She threw her arms around Kat and bear-hugged her. “Sweetie, it's so good to see you. Know what I mean?”

Kat had no idea what she meant, but she was more than a little touched by Lola Rae's response, yet tried not to show it. Lola Rae had always been a warm, outgoing person. She wasn't exactly pretty but her honey-brown eyes and ready smile had made her popular with other students. Lola Rae had been Kat's exact opposite. Introverted and embarrassed by her weight, Kat barely spoke to anyone and had few friends.

Lola Rae asked, “When did you get out?”

“Yesterday. I'm on a work furlough program for good behavior. I'm renting the apartment above your shop.”

“Awesome! Totally awesome.” She gave Kat a one-armed hug. “Come down for coffee in the morning. I'm here by seven. Hear what I'm sayin'?”

“Thanks,” Kat replied, a note of wonder in her voice. She'd been lonely and cut off for so many years. She had no clue how to react to Lola Rae's kindness. She needed to respond with more than a “thanks” but what in the world could she say?

“Sugar, can I do something for you?”

Kat lifted a strand of limp hair. “I need help.”

Lola Rae inspected the hair that had been stripped nearly lifeless by the harsh prison shampoo. “Let's get the dead ends off and style it. Color would help. Know what I mean?”

“How much?” Kat asked. She had been given some money but it had to last her until payday.

“Look, pay me when you get a job.” She gave her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “It isn't like I don't know where to find you.”

“I appreciate it, but I want to give you at least part of it today. I have a job at the newspaper, but I won't get paid for a month.”

“Good enough,” Lola Rae replied. “Let's get started.”

Lola Rae went into the back room and brought out a Hispanic woman with a slender build and large dark eyes. “This is Maria. She's my assistant, and she will shampoo you. She doesn't speak much English yet, but we're working on it. Right, Maria?”

“Right,” Maria said in a soft voice.

“She cooks Mexican food to die for,” Lola Rae added. “I'll have her make you a few tamales.”

Kat stopped herself from saying she wasn't eating anything fattening. She didn't want to chance hurting Lola Rae's feelings. Kat could never have predicted someone would be thrilled to see her. And she hadn't realized how much she wanted a friend.

“Okay, I'm going to show you a few pictures, then some color swatches,” said Lola Rae after Maria had shampooed her hair. “I think you'd be dynamite with lighter blond hair. I could weave several shades—”

“I don't want to look anything like Tori.”

Lola Rae put her hand on Kat's shoulder. “Of course. I didn't think. Tori and your ma up and bailed on you when you were arrested.”

Kat nodded, not trusting her voice. Those first days had been overwhelming, and to know her family didn't care had been crushing.

“Well, Tori doesn't get her hair done in town. Since she's made so much money in real estate, she's too good for us. Know what I mean? 'Course she's still chasing after Clay Kincaid.”

Of course, Kat thought. Some things never change. Tori had been crazy about Clay since high school. She'd followed him to Ole Miss and worked part-time just to be near him.

“Tori drives into Jackson for her hair and clothes, but I see her around. She's wearing her hair past her shoulders, and it's platinum-blond.”

“Make mine shorter and darker.”

“Know what I think would be great on you?” Lola Rae didn't wait for an answer. “A light brown with reddish-gold highlights. We'll cut it chin-length and flip it a little.”

“Go for it.”

“We'll cut it first, then put on the color.” Lola Rae snipped quickly, letting hanks of Kat's hair drop to the floor. “Can I ask you something?”

Kat was pretty sure she knew what Lola Rae planned to ask. “Sure.”

“What was it like in prison?”

“Hell on earth. Don't ever commit a crime.”

A timer went off. “Oops! Mrs. Avery's perm is done. Let me comb her out and style her. Just sit here and read a magazine.”

“Do you happen to have a copy of the paper?”

“You betcha. It's behind the counter.”

Kat walked over and found the paper. She was curious about how the
Tribune
looked these days. Special Agent Wilson had told her she would be working with the new managing editor, David Noyes. She took the paper and sat back down in the chair next to the older woman Lola Rae was working on.

Mrs. Avery had been the local librarian and a Sunday-school teacher until she'd retired the last year Kat was in school. Their eyes met in the mirror, and Mrs. Avery scowled.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Getting my hair cut and colored.”

She whirled in her chair and faced Lola Rae. “You're not doing her hair, are you?”

Lola Rae beamed. “Yes, I am.”

“She's a criminal.”

“Kat has served her time. Know what I mean? Everybody deserves a second chance. Isn't that what God teaches us?”

“Ha!” She faced the mirror, her back ramrod-straight.

Kat concentrated on the newspaper. The headline screamed: BODY STILL UNIDENTIFIED.
Wow.
She could recall just one murder in all the years she'd lived here. A farmer had shot his partner over some dispute about chickens or pigs or something.

She read the account of the murdered woman carefully. Apparently she'd been dead for some time. Sheriff Radner refused to discuss what leads—if any—he had in the case.

Justin Radner. Tall and lanky with jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes, Justin had been the star of the football team. He'd been four years older than Kat so she had never been in class with him, but she'd dreamed about him at night sometimes. So had every girl in school except Tori, who thought Clay Kincaid hung the moon.

At one point Kat had a friend who lived in the Shady Acres trailer park near Justin. Kat's mother was phobic about her girls associating with white trash and insisted Kat have nothing to do with her friend, but Kat would sneak over to Shady Acres to play. She often watched Justin from afar.

She'd wondered what it would be like to go out on a date with him. How did Verity Mason feel when she was at his side, when he held her in his arms? Just thinking about it had made Kat all breathless and fluttery.

Her thoughts shifted to her mother and sister. Loretta Wells had always adored Tori. Kat's half sister was the product of her mother's marriage to the love of her life. When he'd been killed in an auto accident, Loretta had remarried Kat's father. From as far back as she could remember her mother had made it clear that Tori was her favorite.

No wonder. Tori was stunningly beautiful. She'd never gone through that gawky phase like most teenagers. Of course, Kat hadn't experienced that phase either. She'd been a plump child who became a fat teenager. The only thing Kat could say for herself was that she had brains.

What shocked her was how much it hurt not to have been told about her mother's cancer. How could they still have that power? Through the hell of prison, she'd told herself she didn't care, but despite her best efforts something deep inside her ached.

She forced herself to concentrate on the newspaper. She would deal with her mother and sister soon enough. The paper seemed to have more ads than she'd remembered. There were lots of articles about the local teams and reports of church services.

It intimidated Kat a little to be going to work at a newspaper. She wished she had more education. Her father—bless him—had wanted her to go to college. He told her he'd set aside money for both Tori and Kat to go to a state school. They would have to work while they were there, but the money was in a special account for their education. It had mysteriously vanished after his death.

Tori had been in Oxford, taking extension classes at Ole Miss and working at an expensive boutique. In the months immediately following her father's heart attack, Kat had expected her mother to try to get Tori into Ole Miss full-time. It hadn't happened. Tori was still attending part-time when Kat had been arrested. Kat had called her mother from jail. She'd hung up on Kat.

 

I
T WAS AFTER EIGHT O'CLOCK
by the time Kat's hair was done and she'd gone to the supermarket for food. She'd stocked her small fridge with low-fat, low-carb goodies. She was better-looking, thanks to Lola Rae. The warm brown hair with red highlights in a bouncy flip made her eyes seem greener and her skin less sallow from the years in prison.

Lola Rae had shown her a few tricks with mascara and a hint of eye shadow. She'd applied a light sheen of foundation with a sponge and dusted Kat's cheekbones with a soft coral blush. All of the cosmetics went onto Kat's tab. She hoped she could duplicate Lola Rae's efforts on Monday before she went to work.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten since Special Agent Wilson had bought her a salad at noon. She should stay home and study the paper more closely so she would be familiar with the layout, but she'd been dreaming about Jo Mama's Ribs for years. Surely her first night of freedom called for a small celebration.

She drove her Toyota over to the north side, where Jo Mama's Ribs had been located for nearly forty years. Jo Johnson had opened the place back when her husband became one of the first black pilots in the Tuskegee Air Squadron during the Second World War. He'd been killed early on, and a foul-up had deprived Jo of his pension for years. She supported their five children by making the best ribs in this part of Mississippi.

Abe Johnson had taken over when his mother's health began to fail. A mountain of a man with a huge smile, Abe had inherited his mother's talent for cooking. Big Abe's ribs had been her father's favorite, and he brought her to Jo Mama's at least twice a month when he'd been alive. Her mother and Tori never came, her mother insisting no self-respecting white person would be seen in the “north side.”