“Thanks,” the kid said with a smile, slipping the drugs into the front pocket of his jeans.
“Anytime. I’ll be here next weekend. Same time. You want more, bring some cash and I’ll hook you up.”
The kid agreed and then he jogged away, rejoining his friends.
Tony looked at me. “And that is how you reel in new clients.”
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, feeling disgusted.
We made it out of the parking lot of the theater and were driving across the large, almost empty mall lot when a pair of familiar flashing lights appeared in my rearview mirror.
“We got company!” Tony yelled, panic in his voice.
“Maybe they just need by,” I said, hopeful. The last thing I needed was some cop blowing my cover tonight.
I pulled out of their way and waited for them to drive by.
They didn’t.
The officer pulled up behind me and put it in park.
As if this night hadn’t been bad enough.
21
Julie
“Julie?” Susan said, bringing me out of my own head.
I blinked and glanced at her sharply. “Yes?”
“Would you mind closing up the salon when you’re finished? I have an awful headache. I’d like to go home.”
I offered her a smile. “Of course. It’s been a long week.”
Susan smiled wearily. “Yes, it has. But business is great so I can’t complain.”
I never thought of Susan as a fake person. Until now. It’s like she acted and looked one way, but the words coming out of her mouth just didn’t match. She always seemed a little uptight (or anal, as I liked to call her), and I just thought it was because of the responsibility of running a successful salon… Now I wondered if perhaps there was more to it.
“I’m just going to finish up in the back. Then I’ll lock up for the night.”
“Sounds wonderful. Feel free to use the phone on my desk to call the distributor.”
“Great! Thanks so much. Have a great night!” I gave her a little wave and then went into the back room, sagging against the wall.
My thoughts went to Blue. I felt like I needed to tell him about what I heard. What I saw. I didn’t have a way to contact him, though. Even if I did, what would I say? I could tell him all my suspicions. I could just relay what I knew and let him look into it.
My mind rejected that right away. He was already tired. He was already dealing with so much. It felt wrong to just dump all my uncertainties in his lap and expect him to figure it out.
What I needed was a plan.
I was good at plans.
Look how well my plan of a can of hairspray and a razor worked out. If that had been an actual burglar, I would have totally gotten away.
Evidence would be good too.
Something that he could use against Dom.
I picked up my cup of abandoned coffee and took a sip while I thought. My nose wrinkled and I looked down at the liquid. It was cold.
Ew.
Carrying the mug over to the microwave, I stuck it in and hit a few buttons, then stood waiting for it to heat up.
Dom said he wanted to see the product. Something told me he wasn’t talking about hair product. He also said something about his business and Susan turning on him.
I knew from Blue that Dom’s business was drugs.
It seemed almost asinine that Susan was involved in the drug business. It was the mention of another person that made me not completely reject the idea. She accused Dom of killing someone, someone who clearly meant a lot to her.
Maybe I wasn’t the only person who got tipsy on a man. Maybe Susan was in love with someone who worked for Dom. Maybe that guy dragged her into his mess.
Wait.
Rewind that.
Did I just say love?
Yeah, I had been talking about Susan, but the implication was that she was like me. That I was like her.
I was confusing myself.
Point is I kind of implied that I was in love with Blue.
Was I?
In lust? Heck yes. Had feelings for him? Absolutely. In love? It was too soon for the L-word.
Right?
The microwave dinged and I welcomed the distraction. Thinking about my feelings for Blue wasn’t going to help him with this case. I could think about that later.
I sipped the newly warmed coffee. Ahhhh. It was good.
So. If Susan was somehow involved with Dom and if he had come here to check up on his product… that product had to be drugs.
Susan was keeping drugs in this salon.
But where?
My eyes went directly to the door in the room. The room that supposedly held the water heater and electrical stuff.
But what if there was more?
I peeked back out into the salon at Susan’s office. The light was off and the rest of the salon was empty.
It was a good time to be sneaky.
I went straight for the door and turned the handle, giving it a good yank.
It was locked.
Interesting.
“If I were a key, where would I be?” I asked myself, looking around the room for a spare key. I searched through all the drawers, looked under the sink, behind the fridge, and around the doorframe.
It was nowhere to be found.
I wasn’t going to be deterred. I strode out to my station and dug around for a bobby pin. Hey, if MacGyver could build bombs with some duct tape and a tube of toothpaste, then I sure as hell could pick a lock with a bobby pin.
Using my teeth, I separated the little metal prongs and then slid the end into the lock. It took quite a few tries.
Okay, it took ten.
On the eleventh try, the handle turned and I smiled. Leaving the bobby pin sticking out of the handle, I pushed it open and went inside.
It was dark, but overhead was a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. I yanked the little chain dangling down and the room flooded with light.
There was a water heater and circuit breaker box in here, along with some old brooms and dustpans and a vacuum from the nineteen fifties. But among those things were also boxes.
Boxes of hair color.
Why in the world would she have me order all that hair color when we had boxes of it sitting in here?
Suspicion tasted worse than cold coffee. Looking over my shoulder to make sure I was still alone, I crept closer to the boxes.
Pulling down one of the cardboard boxes from the top, I dropped it at my feet, wincing because it was heavier than I expected it to be. After a few minutes of no one rushing in to see what the loud noise was about (thankfully, I was still alone), I knelt down to pull off the thin layer of tape sealing the box.
Once the top was completely open, I looked inside.
And frowned.
There in neat and symmetrical rows were the black boxes I knew so well. It was just developer. Developer was the stuff we mixed with the actual hair color; it was the stuff that actually changed the hair. It put the blond in blond. The higher the developer, the more lift you got in the shade of your hair.