Read Online Homicide in High Heels by Gemma Halliday - Free Book Online Page A

Marco who were clearly not
clients. The first was a short, portly guy with a
trendy-two-years-ago soul patch on his chin and shoes that were
shined within an inch of their lives. The second was a woman with
short, dark hair wearing a utilitarian pant-suit and low-healed
loafers. Even if she hadn't been standing next to Marco—who was a
vision in a white leather jumpsuit with lilac accents today—she
would have looked drab enough to blend into any background.
    "So you were the one who scheduled Lacey for
her tan?" the woman asked Marco, looking down at an electronic
tablet in her hands.
    "Y-yes. I schedule everyone."
    "Including the deceased?" the guy
pressed.
    Marco swallowed hard, then nodded. "Yes,
Officer Hardy."
    "Detective," he corrected.
    "Sorry," Marco mumbled.
    "This scheduling book was in your possession
the entire morning?" the woman, who I deduced to be the Laurel in
the duo, asked.
    "Yes."
    The two detectives gave each other a
meaningful look.
    "Wait—no!" Marco amended. "I mean, yes, it
was here at my desk, but anyone could have seen it."
    "Did they?" Laurel asked.
    "I-I don't know. Maybe. I mean, they must
have because someone killed her, and it wasn't me," Marco squeaked
out.
    More meaningful looks were exchanged, then
Laurel jotted something on her tablet.
    "What are you writing?" Marco asked.
    "Back to the book," Hardy said. "Where did
you keep it?"
    "Here," Marco said, slapping his hand on the
reception desk for emphasis.
    "So you're saying anyone who came through
those doors," Hardy said, pointing to the ones I'd just entered
through, "could have seen this book."
    Marco nodded vigorously.
    "Okay, who came in that day?" Laurel
asked.
    Marco swallowed again. "I don't know. The
other clients. The staff. I think I saw the UPS guy."
    "You think or you did ?" Hardy
pressed.
    "I-I don't know. I mean, I wasn't watching
the doors like a hawk. I had to grab Mrs. Johnson a smock, and
Jennie needed more acetone in her kit, and I did use the little
boys' room a couple of times."
    "Hmph," Hardy said, nodding to Laurel, who
jotted down more notes.
    Marco paled. "What? What is she writing
now?"
    "Thank you for your time," Laurel said,
slamming the cover on her tablet shut instead of answering. "We'll
be in touch if we need anything more."
    "And don't go anywhere," Hardy told him,
stabbing a chubby finger his way as the two left the salon,
Laurel's heels shuffling on the floor and Hardy leaving a wake of
cheap cologne behind him.
    "Ohmigod, Mads," Marco cried as soon as they
left. "Did you see the way they were looking at me? They think I
had something to do with Lacey's death!"
    "I'm sure that's not true," I said, patting
him on the shoulder. "Those were just routine questions."
    "This is an absolute nightmare. We're all
living under a cloud of suspicion here."
    "I'm sure it will blow over soon," I said,
doing more patting.
    "You know we had three cancelations this
morning alone?"
    I glanced behind him to the nearly empty
salon. Two women were getting pedis and just one lone woman sat in
the styling chairs, Faux Dad hard at work coloring her long
locks.
    "One of our stylists quit this morning,
Maddie," he went on. "She said she couldn't come back to the scene
of such carnage. Carnage, Maddie!" He threw his hands in the air
for emphasis, his leather outfit squeaking in protest.
    I bit my lip. I had to admit, things were
not looking rosy for Fernando's at the moment.
    "Listen, you think you could fix this for
me?" I asked, holding up my still chipped nail. In all that had
happened in the last two days, I'd yet to get it fixed.
    Marco nodded. "Sure. It's not like we're
busy," he said glumly, leading me to a nail station in the center
of the salon. Twenty minutes later I was buffed, trimmed, and
shellacked, letting my nails dry under UV light as Faux Dad
finished with his client.
    He shuffled toward me, much the same glum
look on his face that I'd seen on Marco's. Only on Faux Dad the bad
mood made everything sag from his