that strange bedroom. If she was still in there, how would I get her out? She hadn’t even answered when I knocked on the door twice and called her name before I left.
Was she meditating?
Tension tightened my spine as I drove nearer her place. With her shifting moods, who knew what kind of disposition I’d find her in?
Reaching her street, I felt my anxiety soar.
Two police cars were parked in front of Stevie’s house.
Chapter 6
I stopped behind the squad cars and bolted into my cousin’s house. “Stevie, what’s wrong?”
No answer.
I dashed down the hall. Saw lights on in my bedroom.
“That’s her!” Stevie’s voice carried.
She and the police were going through my things. I knew because Stevie held my newest pastel yellow bra. A female deputy stopped rooting through dresser drawers. A young man in uniform didn’t stop fingering my outfits hanging in the closet.
“Where have you been?” Detective Renwick barked at me.
“Cealie, what happened to you?” Stevie grabbed me in a hug that snapped my breath. She stared at my head. “And what in the world happened to your hair?”
I sat on the bed. They’d even pulled back the covers, maybe checking for stray hair? Surely this must be part of the investigation for the dead man since I was the one who’d fallen on him.
“Let’s see,” I said, and all of them gathered round. I recounted my last hours, giving a detailed description of my experience at Beauty First. “And then I drove here.”
Everybody’s shoulders lowered. Expressions faded, from intense to “who cares?” Most of the cops backed away from me.
“That’s it? You only went to have your hair done?” Renwick lifted his gaze to my coiffeur.
I patted down the top a wee bit. “Was that a problem? Y’all don’t let a stranger get her hair fixed? Did somebody report me?”
Stevie’s hands fluttered around her sides. “Me. I called and told them you were missing.”
“Missing?”
“You just disappeared, and I thought whoever killed the man in my yard got you.”
Renwick stuck his pad in his pocket. “The only reason we came, with you seemingly missing for less than a day, was because someone died here. Your cousin made us believe something bad had also happened to you.”
“How nice of you to check up on me.” I patted his shoulder. “But if I ever have a problem, I have a cell phone. I’ll be sure to call you if I need help.”
All the cops turned to leave, except the young man who dug through my closet. He returned to it, stared inside, and fingered my low-cut, chamois-colored sweater that was hanging next to my short leather skirt. “Nice outfit,” he said, and for an instant, I imagined him wearing it. Maybe because of his shapely eyebrows. Possibly from his stance—one hand on his slim hip. I envisioned him wearing a push-up bra with my slut outfit he kept admiring.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” Stevie grimaced at me in the hall while the others went out. “I got so worried.”
“I knocked on that door.” I pointed to the one open now, emitting the smell of extinguished candles. “I told you where I was going and called your name twice, but you never answered.”
Her expression blanked. “You did? I was consulting…” She stared at the space beside me. Shut her mouth.
Obviously she wasn’t going to tell me with whom or what she’d spoken in that room. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Or possibly my cousin had a mental problem. Unless I could help, I’d just as soon not know about it. She seemed to function well enough.
I moved farther from the candle room. It started to give off strange vibes. Or maybe I imagined them. “You sure have nice police in Gatlinburg. They’ll come to see about you right away.”
Stevie trailed me to the kitchen. Under the bright fluorescent lights, she stood peering down at my hair.
“The hairdresser gave me a little touch-up,” I said, hinting for a compliment. “This shade’s natural.
Was she meditating?
Tension tightened my spine as I drove nearer her place. With her shifting moods, who knew what kind of disposition I’d find her in?
Reaching her street, I felt my anxiety soar.
Two police cars were parked in front of Stevie’s house.
Chapter 6
I stopped behind the squad cars and bolted into my cousin’s house. “Stevie, what’s wrong?”
No answer.
I dashed down the hall. Saw lights on in my bedroom.
“That’s her!” Stevie’s voice carried.
She and the police were going through my things. I knew because Stevie held my newest pastel yellow bra. A female deputy stopped rooting through dresser drawers. A young man in uniform didn’t stop fingering my outfits hanging in the closet.
“Where have you been?” Detective Renwick barked at me.
“Cealie, what happened to you?” Stevie grabbed me in a hug that snapped my breath. She stared at my head. “And what in the world happened to your hair?”
I sat on the bed. They’d even pulled back the covers, maybe checking for stray hair? Surely this must be part of the investigation for the dead man since I was the one who’d fallen on him.
“Let’s see,” I said, and all of them gathered round. I recounted my last hours, giving a detailed description of my experience at Beauty First. “And then I drove here.”
Everybody’s shoulders lowered. Expressions faded, from intense to “who cares?” Most of the cops backed away from me.
“That’s it? You only went to have your hair done?” Renwick lifted his gaze to my coiffeur.
I patted down the top a wee bit. “Was that a problem? Y’all don’t let a stranger get her hair fixed? Did somebody report me?”
Stevie’s hands fluttered around her sides. “Me. I called and told them you were missing.”
“Missing?”
“You just disappeared, and I thought whoever killed the man in my yard got you.”
Renwick stuck his pad in his pocket. “The only reason we came, with you seemingly missing for less than a day, was because someone died here. Your cousin made us believe something bad had also happened to you.”
“How nice of you to check up on me.” I patted his shoulder. “But if I ever have a problem, I have a cell phone. I’ll be sure to call you if I need help.”
All the cops turned to leave, except the young man who dug through my closet. He returned to it, stared inside, and fingered my low-cut, chamois-colored sweater that was hanging next to my short leather skirt. “Nice outfit,” he said, and for an instant, I imagined him wearing it. Maybe because of his shapely eyebrows. Possibly from his stance—one hand on his slim hip. I envisioned him wearing a push-up bra with my slut outfit he kept admiring.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” Stevie grimaced at me in the hall while the others went out. “I got so worried.”
“I knocked on that door.” I pointed to the one open now, emitting the smell of extinguished candles. “I told you where I was going and called your name twice, but you never answered.”
Her expression blanked. “You did? I was consulting…” She stared at the space beside me. Shut her mouth.
Obviously she wasn’t going to tell me with whom or what she’d spoken in that room. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Or possibly my cousin had a mental problem. Unless I could help, I’d just as soon not know about it. She seemed to function well enough.
I moved farther from the candle room. It started to give off strange vibes. Or maybe I imagined them. “You sure have nice police in Gatlinburg. They’ll come to see about you right away.”
Stevie trailed me to the kitchen. Under the bright fluorescent lights, she stood peering down at my hair.
“The hairdresser gave me a little touch-up,” I said, hinting for a compliment. “This shade’s natural.
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