Murder in the Pachysandra by Linda A. Lavid

Author:Linda A. Lavid [Lavid, Linda A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-11T04:30:00+00:00

Foxy Roxy’s was tucked between an insurance company and Winnie’s. The last time Hattie had been inside was when it was a stationery shop. She had often gone there to select cards for holidays, birthdays, anniversaries; cards she had long since abandoned after Orin died and celebrations became more difficult to acknowledge with her newly-acquired, lone signature: Hattie.

A sing-song chime rang as Hattie and Muriel entered. Roxanne stood at a high desk, looking impeccable in a violet sweater. She gave them a big smile. “My two favorite neighbors. About time you paid a visit.”

Muriel bounded forward. “Better late than never.”

Hattie looked over the crowd. It was sparse. One young man was cutting a woman’s hair. Another customer, with flat shiny papers on her head, read a magazine.

“What can I do for you today?”

“Make us ravishing,” Muriel said.

Hattie smiled. “If that’s possible.”

Roxanne laughed. “We’ll do our best, but all you ladies need are a little cherry on top.”

Muriel beamed.

“Is this a good time?” Hattie asked. “We’re not in any hurry.”

“It’s perfect. Tuesday mornings are one of our slow days.”

Darn, she hadn’t considered that.

Roxanne clicked out from behind the desk. She wore a charcoal-gray pencil skirt with remarkably high heels in a color, Hattie could only describe as, purple peppermint. “Let me show you where you can hang your stuff.”

After jostling out of their clumsy winter coats, Roxanne led them down a hallway to an opened door.

“Here’s where we do our manicures and pedicures.”

Hattie and Muriel poked their heads inside.

“Say what?” Muriel laughed. “You got little bathtubs for people’s feet?” She looked at Hattie. “How cute is that?”

Hattie smiled. She had never seen anything like them.

“We have an ionizer in here so the fumes don’t become overwhelming. And you can see the color selection is extensive.”

The expansive ledges held colorful bottles of nail polish that ranged well beyond the reds and pinks she had known.

Roxanne turned farther down the hall and opened another door. What looked like an iron lung loomed in the center of a dark room.

“Here’s the tanning bed.”

Hattie didn’t see an opening on the machine. With disbelief, she asked. “Do people lie inside?”

Roxanne laughed. “Yep. It opens up like a big suitcase.”

Muriel jumped in. “Or a casket.”

Roxanne laughed. “Now Muriel, don’t knock it until you’ve tried.”

“Hattie, remember those prehistoric waffle irons where the lid would come down and the batter would ooze out from the sides. That would be me inside one of these things. I’d rather go to Jamaica.”

The three women laughed.

Roxanne crossed the hall and opened another door. “Last but not least is our spa room.”

“Wow,” Muriel said walking inside. “This is what I’m talking about.”

Wide-eyed, Hattie agreed.

“Hattie, look at the ceiling.”

A domed midnight sky was filled with hundreds of tiny white lights. They had entered a night-lit enchanted forest.

“It’s all about ambience and setting the stage for a getaway retreat. I insulated the walls and have special music. Not the pop stuff that’s played in the main salon.”

Hattie’s attention was drawn to a wall-mounted fountain. Water trickled into a pool of floating petals.

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