Curl Up and Die Page 3

Except she knew Doug would want to crush Detective Moat if he was a threat to Mia’s future. Doug may like to bake sweets every night, and she couldn’t ask for a more loving or gentle husband, but threaten his family? Watch out. Nothing sweet at all. Mia was both the son and daughter Doug never had.

  After the loaded silence, Molly showed Detective Moat out, doing her best to stop before the Glam Van Rules sign and shield it from his view.

  Mia, bless her heart, must have recalled her addition because, all of a sudden, she rushed out with the plate of Doug’s ladyfingers and distracted the detective. “Ladyfinger before you go, Detective Mea … I mean, Moat.”

  As he looked down at the plate, Mia widened her eyes toward Molly as if to say, Now. Hide the sign.

  Detective Moat was just responding that he avoided a lady’s finger at all costs, when Molly pretended to lose her balance and trip over her own sign. “That darn sign,” she said, picking it up and quickly leaning it, face down, against the trailer. “If I had a penny for every time I tripped over this sign. Jeez Louise.”

  “Are you okay?” Detective Moat asked.

  “I keep telling Aunt Molly we should hang the sign up. She normally puts safety first,” Mia said.

  “Like the chocks,” Detective Moat said, turning to stare at Molly.

  “Touché, detective.” Molly stared back.

  “We’ll see you both at the station tomorrow morning?” Moat said.

  Molly knew he wasn’t really asking, so she didn’t bother answering.

  Mia lifted her chin and turned. “I have to get back to work.”

  Molly watched Moat watch Mia leave. Finally, he turned his attention back to Molly. “A guard will be here all day, and as I mentioned earlier, he will make sure no one”—he looked over his shoulder at the lookie-loos heading their way—“accesses the crime scene. Especially reporters once this gets out.”

  A short distance away, the coroner slammed his van shut and came toward them. He had several plastic evidence bags when he turned to the detective. Molly recognized the bloody chocks, the hairdressing gown, and … Molly leaned forward to get a better look … Something that looked suspiciously like one of Mia’s handmade necklaces.

  Oh, sugar snaps. This was getting stickier by the second.

  “This was in the victim’s hand,” the coroner said.

  Zip it, Molly. Don’t say anything just yet. You don’t know for sure that it’s one of the necklaces Mia makes. And since Detective Moat didn’t swing on his heels and march in and cuff Mia, Molly knew he didn’t recognize the evidence’s value or the twin necklaces hanging in Glam Van in Mia’s Corner.

  “Molly,” Detective Moat said and turned to leave.

  “See you tomorrow,” she said. Unfortunately.

  Chapter Three

  Molly had never cancelled an appointment or missed an opportunity to make one of her clients feel her best, and she wasn’t going to let the death of Veronica Corsello ruin her streak. So, when she spotted Nell Jackson run-walking her way in a smart navy suit and black pumps, she opened Glam Van’s doors to welcome her.

  Nell was the mayor’s chief of staff and sure to be mayor someday if Mayor Tully ever retired. Her calm leadership had brought comfort to many at that morning’s funeral, but Nell did not look her usual composed self anymore. Loose ends of hair escaped from her French twist and she looked like she’d dressed in a hurry. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she’d done a haphazard job of covering it with foundation. Opal May’s funeral had clearly taken a hard toll on Nell, and from the expression on her face, this new turn of events had too.

  “The police officers,” Nell said as she climbed the Glam Van steps and pointed at the guards next to the van. “What are they doing here? What happened?”

  “You better sit down, Nell,” Molly said, prying Nell’s briefcase from her hand and handing it to Mia. “There’s been an incident. Veronica Corsello.”

  Nell’s face blanched and she sat. “An ‘incident’? What sort of ‘incident’? Is she okay?”

  Molly shook her head. “I’m afraid not. She’s dead.”

  Nell gasped. “What?”

  “Well …” She ought to let Detective Moat make the official announcement but judging by the crowd that had formed on the edge of the lot, she suspected word had already spread around San Cosmas like a proverbial California wildfire. “Someone hit her.”

  “Hit her? You mean, like with a car?”

  “Um, no. A confrontation of some sort. A head wound.”

  Nell looked like she might faint, but she dug in her purse for her phone. “The mayor,” she said. “I must call the mayor. We need to get ahead of this, organize a press conference …”

  Molly suspected Nell liked escaping into work and process, so she hated to burst her bubble. “He’s at his meeting, remember,” Molly said, rubbing her shoulders.

  “Right. It’s an important day and I don’t want to ruin it. I wish he were here now, though,” Nell said. “He’s going to be shocked.”

  “It’s all in Detective Moat’s capable hands. There’s nothing you can do about this right now, so why not stay and regain some calm before it gets crazy.”

  Nell nodded. “Yes, good idea. I’ll stay and have my hair done and regroup. I need to pull myself together. We’ll need to reassure our citizens that all will be okay, and that we are still one of the safest townships in California.”

  Molly draped a cape about Nell’s shoulders and pulled the pins from her hair. Nell’s long straight dark hair settled well past her shoulders.

  While Mia washed Nell’s hair and answered questions like, What do you think happened? and Are you going to have PTSD? Molly stood by Glam Van’s door and gazed out over the lot and growing crowd. She knew she couldn’t wait around all day and night for the autopsy results. Mia was innocent and anyone with half a brain would know it, but if Detective Moat marched in and slapped handcuffs on her precious niece, Molly would never forgive herself.

  It was Molly’s fault Mia was even in San Cosmas in the first place, and if Lacy found out, she would totally use it to her advantage to convince the world Molly was a bad aunt and that Mia should return home. But if things got bad and Mia needed a lawyer, Molly would gladly take the heat and call Lacy for help.

  What in the world had happened here this morning? Why had Veronica been behind her van? Mia had thought she was sabotaging the van, but Molly wasn’t so sure. And most importantly, who had hit the woman over the head with chocks? Because Molly didn’t need to be a coroner to know a blow to the head was the most likely cause of death. Bodies needed blood and Veronica had lost a ton of hers.

  Molly had a bad feeling that Veronica’s death had something to do with the sale of the lot. Molly and her truckies weren’t the only ones to oppose the new development, and many people had voiced their displeasure at the plans. Plus, Veronica Corsello had never been a regular customer. If a business didn’t have a high-end designer name attached to it, it was below her. So, why was she at the lot that morning, at a time when she knew everyone would be at Opal May’s funeral? Well, almost everyone.

  The lot had been empty, except for Asil waiting for his roaster, and perhaps whoever had delivered it. Had Asil or the delivery person seen anything? She hoped UPS had delivered because her friend Brody drove this route, and he’d be more than happy to answer her questions. As soon as she finished with Nell, she’d pay a visit to Asil.

  Molly wished she could remember if there were any cars parked nearby when she’d arrived, but she was drawing a blank. She excused herself to Mia and Nell and trotted to the parking lot to look around. Either Veronica Corsello had walked to the lot or someone had dumped her there, because there wasn’t a car in sight except Molly’s, Nell’s, Asil’s, and the police cars. She remembered Mia complaining that Veronica drove a ginormous red gas-guzzling SUV; there was no sign of it. Molly didn’t have time now to check the surrounding streets, but she wondered if the police had thought to do so. What if Veronica hadn’t come to th
e lot this morning? What if she’d been dumped there last night?

  Oh, if Opal May were alive now, what would she have to say about this latest Corsello development?

  She returned to the van. She needed to call her husband but didn’t want to while Nell was in the van. She didn’t want to worry him with short, clipped answers. Besides, she had a no-cell- phones rule in the van. Of course, murder could be an exception.

  “I can’t believe Corsello’s dead,” Nell said, as Mia guided her from the wash station to Molly’s chair.

  “Me neither,” Mia said. “Did you know her long?”

  Nell nodded her head emphatically. Good thing Molly hadn’t started cutting yet.

  “We both grew up here,” Nell said. “San Cosmas was even smaller then and everyone knew everyone.”

  Mia snorted.

  Molly knew that her niece, having lived in Los Angeles, thought everyone in San Cosmas still knew everyone else.

  “We went to high school together, but that was a long time ago. I moved away for a while after I graduated and I lost track of her after that.”

  Too bad they hadn’t stayed out of touch over this stupid development plan. Keep your lips zipped and your politics outside, Molly.

  “Were you close friends?” Mia asked.

  “Well, I grew up in foster care. You probably didn’t know that, dear. And Veronica grew up under better circumstances.”

  “Rich,” Mia said.

  “Yes,” Nell said. “I eventually returned to the area and went to the community college. I always knew I wanted to get involved with the government and make lives better. But if I’m remembering correctly, Veronica never really knew what she wanted to be when she grew up. Her family always had the development company, but she hadn’t shown much interest in it until recently.”

  Molly watched her niece take this info in. Mia had also grown up wealthy and had felt aimless for a while now. She had anticipated her niece’s thoughts, because Mia said, “Huh. I never thought I might have anything in common with that woman.”

  They were all quiet for a few seconds as Molly grabbed her scissors and then pushed the pedal to bring Nell’s head to eye level.

  But first, Nell brushed Mia’s arm when Mia came to stand next to them. “What a horrible thing to happen to you, Mia. I’m so sorry you found her.”

  At least Nell doesn’t suspect Mia of murder.

  “I think I’m still in shock,” Mia said and ate her third ladyfinger.

  “I could use a stiff drink,” Nell said.

  “Join the club,” Molly and Mia said, and smiled for the first time that day, because even though Mia was of legal age, she and Molly had never had a drink together.

  “The mayor might even want a drink after I tell him what has happened,” Nell said, then covered her mouth as she realized her joke was inappropriate. In many ways, it was the mayor’s ability to relate to all people on any level—faults and all—that had helped him get voted into office. Where Mayor Tully lived up to his brand as “The Sober Mayor Who Gets Real People,” Nell had a heart of gold. She was sharp and nurturing, and Molly knew that the mayor wasn’t winning re-elections on his own. Having grown up without her own family, Nell had turned the community into her family. Both the mayor and Nell were actively involved with the community’s youth, spoke at schools and hospitals about addiction, and never hesitated to help a friend in need. Which is why it had stung so much when they’d both backed the development of the lot.

  Molly was tempted to ask Nell what she thought would happen to the lot now that Veronica was dead, but she would stick by the Glam Van rule. Nell deserved to look and feel beautiful when she left the van today no matter that Veronica had died, no matter that Nell had started supporting the lot conversion.

  “Let’s get our mind off this tragedy,” Molly suggested, getting back to the business of beauty.

  Mia didn’t hesitate to grab her sage, light it, and outline the doors and window with the cleansing smoke. She swished in circles around Glam Van’s interior, her long hair swinging out behind her, chanting as she went:

  Out bad spirits, go away,

  Clear the air for us to play.

  Let us nurture, let us care,

  Let us fix that awful hair.

  All three woman closed their eyes and took a deep breath and then released it.

  Mia smiled. “This Glam Van is clean.”

  Molly rested her palms on Nell’s shoulders and met her eyes in the mirror. “Now, are you finally ready for that bob you’ve been tempted to try? I do think it would look marvelous with your thick brown hair and frame your heart-shaped face well. It’s perfect for spring.”

  Mia laughed. “It’s always spring in San Cosmas.”

  Nell nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Mia grabbed her phone and headed to the door. “I’m just going to call Damion and tell him what happened.”

  Molly felt Nell flinch at the reminder something bad had happened.

  “Why don’t you take this afternoon off and see him. You’ve had a terrible morning,” Molly said. She wanted to warn Mia not to say too much to Damion—or anyone—but in front of another person, even Nell, it sounded guilty, like they knew something only a killer would know. What was it about finding a dead body behind your van that made you feel guilty for existing?

  As soon as Mia left, Nell said. “Maybe I should try to get ahold of the mayor regardless of his meeting. He’s going to freak out.” Nell was freaking out a bit herself. She was getting paler by the second. Nell opened her phone case and pulled out a small card that had an address written on the back, “I have the address of his meeting. If necessary, maybe Detective Moat can send someone over. I hope it doesn’t come to that, though. It’s an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting after all, and I don’t want cops showing up and spooking everyone while they are trying to stay sober.”

  Molly worked, snipping and shaping Nell’s hair, while Nell stared into the distance, lost in her thoughts. They were interrupted when her cell phone vibrated on the counter.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Nell said, setting her phone down after quickly reading the screen. “It’s a text from the mayor. He heard the news and is in touch with the detective. He’s en route now.”

  “Good. Now you can relax.”

  “I still can’t believe she’s dead,” Nell said at last. “I just saw her, and I can’t wrap my head around it all.”

  Wait. What? Molly paused with scissors in hand. “You saw Veronica? When? Where?”

  Nell gasped and covered her mouth. “I said too much. I am in shock. Not a good characteristic for a city leader.”

  “Nell? When and where did you see Veronica Corsello? You might have important information.” Information that would clear Mia. “Should you call Detective Moat?”

  Nell blushed and shook her head. “No, it’s not like that. The mayor will tell the detective himself, I’m sure. But, oh gosh, please don’t tell anyone. I saw her at the mayor’s house last night when I dropped off his typed eulogy for Opal May’s funeral. They were leaving his safe room.”

  “Safe room? What’s a safe room?” Molly had to ask. And Veronica and the mayor? Had they been meeting about the lot? Or was this one of those new Escape Room-type games that friends had been talking about on Facebook? She couldn’t imagine Corsello and Mayor Tully playing any games. But she also hadn’t thought someone could be murdered at her van with her chocks. So there was that. And why wasn’t Nell more surprised about seeing Veronica at the mayor’s house? She was only upset for sharing the information, not that it happened in the first place, at least that was how it seemed. Was this a normal thing for them? It must have something to do with the mayor and Nell’s abrupt switch to oppose the truck lot and support Veronica.

  Nell lifted her brows like Molly was playing dumb. “Actually, you probably know more about the room than I do. It’s always locked, so I’ve never seen it myself.”

  “Why would I know about some room in the mayor’s house?” M
olly asked, running her clippers up the back of Nell’s newly exposed neck.

  “Because Veronica designed it and Doug was one of the guys who helped build it.”

  Molly froze. “My Doug?” Her husband worked for one of the best contractors in the county and was often called to work on confidential projects, especially for high-profile customers. Normally it was because said customers didn’t want people to know the layout of their homes or how much money they blew on renovations. She remembered vaguely that Doug had worked on a government official’s home, but he would never say who, where, or what. Her husband was a trusted employee and she never tested that trait—just as he never asked her what her clients talked about in Glam Van.

  But one time, Doug had admitted to working with Veronica Corsello when her name first came up. He hadn’t liked her and said he wouldn’t work with her again. “Not because of the project,” he’d said. “I just didn’t like her as a person.”

  “Yes,” Nell said, “your Doug.”

  Molly shut the van door because the yellow tape was starting to draw attention. She knew the other truckies must have a ton of questions for her, but first thing first: finish Nell’s hair.

  And boy did she. Nell’s bob looked amazing around her pixie face. It was always a little shocking for her clients when they cut their hair shorter than usual, but Molly couldn’t wait to spin Nell around and show her that the bob had been made for Nell. She looked adorable.

  “Ta-da!” Molly said as she turned the chair. “Open your eyes.”

  Nell’s jaw dropped and she covered her upper décolletage in surprise with one hand while her other hand moved up to touch the newly exposed skin around the back of her neck.

  “Well?” Molly asked. Oh crap. By the look on Nell’s face, she hated it. But it really did look better.

  Nell stammered. “I … I love it. This is the shortest my hair has ever been, and my neck feels naked, but I think I look … I think I look beautiful.”

  “You are beautiful, Nell,” Molly said and removed the cape.

  Nell blushed. “Thank you. And Molly, you won’t say anything about the safe room and Veronica to anyone?”