The Nora Dockson Trilogy * Help Me Nora * Right the Wrong * Hear My Plea by Diana Deverell

Author:Diana Deverell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Sorrel Press
Published: 2017-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

24

Channing

The sound of Channing’s heels clicking on the glossy marble floor of LaNoir’s Hair & Nails was lost in the tumult of chattering women and roaring blow dryers. Mingled sulfur and ammonia scents from perm salts and hair dye thickened the air, the powerful odors promising serious transformation.

Channing took in the carefully positioned ceiling spots and LED strips framing the mirrors. LaNoir’s had the same electric atmosphere as the upmarket salon on Philadelphia’s Main Line where her mother had gone for a weekly tune-up.

Channing realized she’d missed that energy at the walk-in places she visited for a trim. Feeling oddly at home, she headed confidently for a redwood counter topped by a cash register and a computer screen.

The petite blonde behind it was encased in gorgeous charmeuse silk, the dark Navy background so rich the fabric looked purple next to the yellow roses strewn across it. The simply-cut sheath hadn’t come cheap and she guessed the older woman wearing it was LaNoir herself.

Personally, she’d have chosen a classic chignon to complete the look. But the elegantly-attired salon owner had teased her golden hair into a high-rise bouffant. LaNoir should’ve looked trashy, but the result was glamorous.

By contrast, Channing’s white linen slacks and charcoal silk T-shirt were as ho-hum as her casually twisted dark blonde mane. Been a long time since she’d felt underdressed meeting another woman. She smiled, gave her name, and indicated she’d booked a noon shampoo with Winnie.

LaNoir studied her Wednesday appointment screen. “Followed by a cut and color from Treasa?” she asked.

“No, I only need my split ends trimmed,” Channing said.

LaNoir frowned past Channing’s shoulder and spoke to someone approaching. “You told me she wanted highlights and a short and sassy style.”

“She does.” Winnie bounced up beside her, dressed for work in black pants and white top, smelling of shampoo.

Taking her elbow, Winnie nudged her past the sparkling central work stations. “That old-lady hairdo turns people off. You want to get anywhere in this town, you need a makeover.”

“No thanks. I’m in a hurry. I came to collect that item so I can pass it to Kent.”

“I won’t give you the cup unless you take my advice.” Winnie snapped a glistening black cape around Channing’s neck and motioned her to sit in a padded chair backed up to a china-white sink. “After all, you two expect me to trust you.”

“So that means I let you choose my hairstyle?” Water thundered into the basin behind Channing and the cape’s plastic scent went up her nose. “I don’t think so. We have a deal, remember?”

“And this is a deal-breaker.” Winnie’s damp fingers removed the pin holding Channing’s hair in place and guided her neck to the sink-slot.

The porcelain was cool against her skin.

Winnie added, “You and Kent insist your plan is the best way to nail Virgil Osborne. But you have me doing all the work. So show me you aren’t going to throw me under the bus.”

“What, is this some test inmates run on each other?”

“Shit,” Winnie growled. “Call it that if you want.

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