Deadly Dye and a Soy Chai: a Danger Cove Hair Salon Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 5) Read Online Free PDF Page B

situation would be too much for her to handle.
    "Yes, they've arrived," Lucy said, and then she hung up again.
    "Lucy, what happened after Gia and I left?"
    Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. "You don't think I—"
    "I don't know what to think," I interrupted. "That's why I'm asking you for answers."
    "But you were here when I put her under the dryer," she protested.
    That was true. I'd watched Lucy mix and apply the dye, per routine. "Did anything happen after that? Like—I don't know—did Margaret ask you for something else to drink or get out of her chair?"
    "Not as far as I know." Her eyes welled with tears. "But Sven called right after you left, so I was outside the whole time."
    I stood up and walked to her station. "What did you do with the bowl you used to mix the dye?"
    "It's in the sink in the break room." She wiped tears from her face. "I haven't washed it or the brush yet."
    "Did you use all the dye on her hair?"
    She nodded.
    I looked again at Lucy's station. The shampoos, conditioners, hair sprays, gels, and other products were lined up neatly in front of the mirror, and the brushes, combs, and hairdryer were in their places. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, and yet something didn't seem right.
     
    *   *   *
     
    "Don't these people have TVs?" I muttered as I sized up the crowd near the police cars and emergency response vehicles parked in front of The Clip and Sip. Then I threw my head into my lap and wished that the plainclothes detective who had sequestered me had put me anywhere but the front porch. It was the second time in less than five hours that I'd had to endure the concerned and even hostile looks of the townsfolk, and I wasn't sure how much more I could take.
    In fact, when Detective Lester Marshall had first introduced himself and led me outside, I seriously considered making a break for it—running as far as I could from the salon and never looking back. But with his dark hair and stocky frame, the detective looked pretty foreboding. Plus, that would have just made me look guilty, especially if Margaret was dead. And at this point I was certain that she was. The emergency medical technicians had been with her since five fifteen, and it was six o'clock. If she'd survived, they would have taken her to the hospital by now.
    The salon door burst open, and I bolted upright as Detective Marshall strutted onto the porch with his chest jutting out like a rooster.
    "I suppose you know that Margaret Appleby is deceased."
    I bowed my head. "I'd gathered as much, yes."
    He let out a long, slow breath. "You should count yourself lucky that you were with Detective Ohlsen when she stopped breathing," he began in a dismayed tone, "otherwise, you'd be a prime suspect."
    I stared at him, stunned. I couldn't believe that he was talking about suspects so soon after Margaret's passing, and I was shocked by his disappointment that Detective Ohlsen had provided me with an alibi. But I don't know why I was surprised. From the minute Detective Marshall had arrived on the scene, it was clear that he'd been in a hurry to make an arrest.
    "As the owner of the old LaSalle brothel," he continued, "you were the first person I was going to question."
    I leapt to my feet as anger shot through my veins like rocket fuel. "For your information, this building hasn't been a brothel for over sixty years, and the LaSalle family sold it to my uncle twenty years ago."
    "It doesn't matter who owns it. This place is bad news." He gave me a pointed look. "Your uncle found that out the hard way."
    I gasped. How could such a clean-cut guy be such a dirty dog?
    Detective Marshall pulled out his notepad. "Now, I just questioned your cousin in the break room. She said that there were clients in the salon at the same time as Margaret Appleby. Can you confirm their names?"
    "Bertha Braun and Prudence Miller, but—"
    "Did anyone else come in?" he interrupted. "Like the mailman…or a supplier? Because I'll need to question them too."
    I