Killer Rapids, page 15
“Yes.” I smiled brightly. “My mom has an appointment with Jacques. I pointed at her name on the list. “Her name is Wanda Bloom. And I’m Clarity. I have a nail appointment with Deborah.”
“You mean Deborah?” She pronounced it Debohra with the emphasis on the “bohr”.
“Uh, sure.” I glanced at Mom. She bit her lip, trying hard not to laugh.
“All right ladies, we’ll get you started.” She gave Mom a disapproving look. “Please put on a robe and then meet us back here.”
“A robe?” Mom was clearly out of her element. “Is this like a daytime sleepover kind of thing?”
I grinned. “No. They have you put on a robe so they don’t get hair dye or stray hairs all over your clothing.”
Mom shrugged. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
Jacques was waiting for us by his station. “Welcome, madame et mademoiselle!” He rushed toward us and kissed each of us on both cheeks.
Mom giggled. “He’s so fancy. Is he French?” she whispered.
I smiled. “Probably.”
Mom sat in the chair and looked into the mirror. For the first time ever, I saw the disappointment in her eyes.
“I guess I haven’t taken very good care of myself.”
“Nonsense.” Jacques began playing with her braid. “You are a natural beauty. I can tell your spirit is pure. You must do very much for everyone else, yes?”
Mom nodded. “I guess so.”
“Well, now it is time for you to do something for you.”
Mom’s eyes were glassy. I reached out and squeezed her hand. “You deserve it.”
Jacques unbraided her dark, graying braid and gasped at how long it was. “Mon Dieu! This is incroyable!”
Her hair cascaded down her back in waves. It reached the seat cushion. I put my hand to my mouth. It was much longer than I’d guessed. “Wow, Mom. That’s a lot of hair.”
She wiped away a tear and nodded.
“Oh, madame, I will make you look amazing. I guarantee it.” He looked at her reflection for a bit, cocked his head to one side, and then asked, “Tell me about your everyday life. What is it that you do?”
Mom glanced at all the women waiting in the salon’s seating area. They already looked put-together and fashionable—and they hadn’t even had their services done yet.
She cleared her throat. “Well, Darren and I have a bed and breakfast that we run.”
“Oh, very nice!” The man held up the ends of her hair and inspected them.
“And we have an apple orchard. We make cider. And we have goats and chickens—and a garden.”
I thought to myself, please don’t mention the marijuana crop, please, please.
“And we grow some pretty high-grade weed.”
I put my hand to my forehead.
Jacques’ eyebrows rose up into his forehead, creating creases that hadn’t been there before. “I was not expecting that.” He chuckled. “A pleasant surprise, for sure.”
Soon, they were talking about CBD oil and all the products you could make from hemp.
I checked the time. My nail appointment was in just a few minutes. I had just enough time to go to the bathroom.
On my way there, I walked past a tall woman with her head under a dryer, reading a magazine. Sections of her blond hair were wrapped in foil. Was that who I thought it was?
She looked up from her magazine. Shoot! I desperately looked around for a place to hide. There was a door not too far from where I stood. With one last look over my shoulder, I grasped the knob, gave it a twist, and slipped inside.
Two startled aestheticians looked up from their customer, who was buck naked from the waist down awaiting her Brazilian wax.
My face drained of color and my breath caught in my throat. Oh. My. God.
The waxee let out a high-pitched squeal. “Get out!”
“I’m so sorry!” I squeaked. Before they could say another word, I felt for the doorknob behind me, wrenched it open, and then closed it in a fraction of a second. Sweat poured off me and I hitched in a panicked breath. The term “mortification” didn’t even begin to touch how I felt.
The sounds of hysterical rambling accompanied by the soothing sounds of the aestheticians’ voices trying to calm down their customer came through the door, followed by the click of the lock.
That poor woman. She would forever be traumatized by this incident. And so would I.
After my heart stopped racing, I checked to see if Astrid had seen me emerge from the door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that her head was down, her attention riveted on a magazine.
With a sigh of relief, I escaped my hiding spot and made my way to the bathroom, did my business, and snuck back to where Astrid was sitting. She was still under the dryer, but she now had her cell phone to her ear and was totally immersed in a conversation with whomever was on the other end. Her foil-wrapped hair concealed her view of me this time, so I focused on what she was saying.
“The police told me not to leave town.”
I gasped and tried to blend into the wall.
She listened a moment. “Yes, I know they’ve arrested Ray, but they never told me I was free to go.” Pause. “Right. I’ll meet you there.”
I knew it! Astrid was somehow involved in Arnold’s death. I’d witnessed some suspicious behavior from her in the last few days. There was no way I would let Ray take the fall for Astrid’s crime. But how could I prove it?
The nail technician appeared in the doorway in the wall. “Clarity?”
I smiled. “That’s me.” I glanced over at Astrid to see if she’d heard my name, but the dryer was loud, and she was reading something on her phone.
There was just enough time for Mom to get her hair styled and for me to get my nails done. Then we would follow Astrid to wherever she was going.
Anger fueled my adrenaline. I breathed out hard. I needed to find out if she’d killed Arnold.
CHAPTER 25
“Mom, you look beautiful!” I stared at her reflection in the stylist’s mirror. Her long graying hair had been expertly cut to shoulder length, with long layers, giving it volume and a nice shape. It had been transformed back to her natural dark color with a few highlights to frame her face.
Jacques had applied minimal makeup to enhance her natural beauty. It was just the right amount and made her look more vibrant. It suddenly hit me that I looked a lot like her.
Mom blinked away tears. “Is that me?”
I leaned over and hugged her from behind. “It’s you. You’ve always been beautiful. You just take care of everyone else all the time. Maybe you should start caring for yourself a little, too.”
Mom nodded. “Right on. Thank you, sweet girl.”
My attention shifted to the tall blonde who’d made her way to the counter to pay her bill. Her hair was perfectly styled in long beachy waves. Everyone in the shop gawked at her, trying to figure out if she was someone famous. She seemed distracted enough to not notice them or me, for that matter.
It was time for action.
I turned back to Jacques. “Thank you so much for making my mom as beautiful on the outside as she is on the inside.” I gave him a hug and nudged Mom to get up. “How much do we owe you?”
We settled up at the counter just as the glass door swung closed behind Astrid. Seconds later, I watched her drive by in a sleek black car.
“Let’s go.” I whisked Mom out the door and hurried to her truck.
Mom gave me a confused look “What’s the hurry?”
“See that woman in the rental car ahead of us?” I pointed at the black sedan. “I think she may have been involved in the death of Ray’s cousin.”
“What? That super model chick killed someone?”
“She’s actually an Olympic athlete. I don’t know for certain that she killed Arnold, but I’m determined to find out.”
“This is more exciting than chasing the goats away from Farmer Ned’s raspberry bushes!” Mom grinned and pointed to the gas pedal on the truck. “Step on it.”
I pushed my foot down on the stiff pedal. I had my doubts as to whether or not the old Ford truck could keep up with Astrid’s Audi, but I was about to find out.
Astrid sped ahead, turning right just as the traffic light turned red.
“Shoot.” I stopped and looked to see if cars were coming. I had just enough time to turn before the next wave of traffic. I floored it and tried to avoid a lamp post.
“That’s right, sweetie! Pedal to the metal!” Mom whooped.
I did my best to keep up with Astrid’s Audi without being obvious. Where was she headed? Back to her hotel?
Astrid turned left at a four-way stop, onto a backroad that paralleled the freeway. There were no other cars on that stretch. Surely, she’d notice if we followed.
I brought the truck to a stop, watching her continue on the straight road. I could still see her, so when it was my turn to go, I turned left and followed slowly.
“Go, go, go!” Mom pumped her fist.
“Not so fast. I don’t want her to notice we’re following her.” I drove at a steady pace.
Mom gripped my shoulder. “What if we go faster and pass her? Then we can torque the wheel and block the road so she can’t get away!”
I turned to glance at my mom. Who was this person sitting next to me? “No! I don’t want her to T-bone the truck. She’ll kill us!”
“Oh, honey. This truck is made of good ol’ American steel. It’s like a tank. Go ahead and do it. Dad can get another farm truck. We’ll just add another half-acre crop of weed to pay for it.”
“Mom, no! That’s crazy.” I checked the rearview mirror. No cops and no other cars. “Besides, I just want to know where she’s going.”
Mom looked deflated. “Well, all right. But don’t blame me if she gets away.”
The road was straight for a good mile or so. I had no problem keeping Astrid’s car in my line of sight. But up ahead, the road bent in a large curve and trees sprung up on either side of the pavement. Visibility would be limited once we entered the curve. I sped up a little to close the distance between our vehicles.
Astrid’s car suddenly accelerated. Had she seen us behind her?
I chewed on my lip, debating if I should go faster or if I should continue to hang back and try to be less conspicuous.
Mom grabbed the handle on the roof near her window that our family affectionately dubbed the “oh, shit bar.” She glanced at me expectantly.
“Well,” she said, “what are you waiting for? Gun it!”
The debate in my mind was over. I needed to speed up or risk losing Astrid. My foot stomped down on the gas. The old truck grumbled and made a whining noise.
“Come on! Burn rubber!” Mom hooted, leaning forward in her seat.
I peeked at the speedometer. We were up to sixty-eight miles per hour. Could the truck go any faster?
Astrid took the corner up ahead at a breakneck speed.
“She’s getting away!” Mom screeched.
“I’m trying.” The truck began to shudder as I pushed the gas pedal down as far as it would go. Now we were up to seventy-three miles per hour.
There wasn’t just one curve up ahead. The road snaked in a series of curves. I knew we wouldn’t be able to keep up with Astrid’s Audi, especially the way the truck’s tires were squealing in the turns.
“Try harder,” Mom growled. “We’ll lose her.”
The truck was operating at its maximum speed of seventy-five miles per hour. I knew it had hit its limit because the rattling noise coming from underneath was deafening.
“Mom, I don’t think—”
Before I could finish my sentence, a large spotted cow appeared on the winding road, less than a hundred yards away. It sauntered to the middle of the narrow road and turned to watch us race toward it. I hitched in a breath and slammed on the brakes, sending Mom and me lunging forward against the constraint of our seatbelts.
We slid, tires screeching, off to the left. I corrected, and we slid back to the right. The back of the truck fishtailed wildly. We stopped just a few feet away from the animal, who stared at us with her big brown eyes.
I coughed and put my hand to my chest where the seatbelt had dug into my skin. “Ouch.”
Mom grimaced and watched the cow cross the road. “Dang thing must’ve gotten away from some farm.”
“Are you all right, Mom?” I glanced sideways at her. She seemed completely calm. At least, she seemed a lot calmer than I felt.
“I’m fine. Hang on.” She jumped out of the truck and approached the cow and spoke to her in low tones.
I rolled down the window so I could hear what she was saying.
“Easy girl. Where did you come from?” She stroked the cow’s back and inspected her flank. “You’ve got the Starlight Ranch brand stamped on you. Poor girl. Tell you what—I’ll come back with the trailer for you. If you’re still here, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”
Mom gave the cow one more pat and then jumped back into the truck. “Best to get going before the fuzz comes. We need to catch up with the super model.”
I shook my head and put the truck into gear, gently pushing down on the gas pedal. “I don’t think ‘the fuzz’ is after us quite yet, but they will be if we keep going as fast as we just were.” I glanced at Mom. “I don’t think this old truck can take much more. How old is this thing, anyway?”
Mom scrunched her eyebrows together. “I don’t know. At least as old as you.”
Once we were rolling again, we passed through several more curves, with Astrid nowhere in sight.
“Well, we lost her.” Mom crossed her arms.
I swallowed a giggle. She was full-on pouting. I’d never seen her like this before. Where had this need for speed and getting the bad guy come from?
The road straightened out again, and it was starting to look kind of familiar. Was this the road to the—
“Casino!” Mom shouted.
Sure enough, up ahead was the Skagit River Casino sign. And just pulling into its parking lot, was a shiny black Audi.
CHAPTER 26
The truck rumbled to a stop in the space opposite Astrid’s car. Mom wrenched the door open and flung herself out of the vehicle.
“Mom, wait!” I unbuckled my seatbelt and shouldered the door open. “You can’t just bust in there. We need some kind of plan.”
“Plan?” Mom looked like she was going to sprint for the entrance.
“Yeah, a plan.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “What are we going to say to her after we storm the castle?”
Mom stopped for a moment, her face blank. “I don’t know. I guess we tell her she killed what’s-his-face’s brother.”
I put my hand on her arm. “First of all, we don’t know that she killed anybody. But what’s his face is Ray. And what’s-his-face’s brother isn’t his brother, it’s his cousin.”
“Oh.” She didn’t care. There was a gleam of adventure in her eyes. She was ready to storm into the casino.
“Give me a moment to think.” I stared at the nearby trees and chewed on my lip.
After a few minutes, I said, “Astrid knows who I am, but she doesn’t know who you are.”
Mom shrugged. “True.”
“Do you have your cell phone with you?”
“My phone?” She pulled it out of her back pocket. “Yep, it’s right here.”
“Good.” I took it from her and called my cell. When my phone rang, I accepted the call. “Now we’re connected. I can listen in if you talk to her—which you should avoid, by the way. Just go in and see who she’s meeting. Have your phone out so you can take a picture of her and whoever she’s talking to. Got it?”
Mom frowned. “I can’t confront her, then?”
My shoulders sagged. “No. Do not do that. She’s dangerous. If you get into trouble, say ‘911’, and I’ll come in after you, okay?”
The look of disappointment etched Mom’s lines around her mouth, making her look older than she was.
To perk her up, I said, “Pretend you’re one of those spy ladies from the 007 movies you love so much. Be cool and sneaky.”
Mom’s eyes brightened. “Like Pussy Galore?”
Good Lord. “Is she a spy lady from one of the 007 movies?”
“Hell, yeah. She’s a badass villainess from Goldfinger.” Mom’s sly smile spread across her face.
“Okay. Be her. But instead of a villainess, be the heroine.” I pointed to the casino. “Go get ‘em, Pussy.”
Mom got halfway to the door before she turned around and jogged back to the truck. “Clarity, I can’t go in there looking like this!” She looked down at her tie-dye t-shirt. “Pussy would never wear this.”
I gritted my teeth, knowing I had to appease her if I wanted her to get this right. I dug the credit card out of my purse. “Here. There’s a little boutique shop to the left as you enter. Try not to spend too much. I’m on a budget.”
“Right on.” Mom trotted off to the entrance and disappeared through the dark tinted glass doors of the casino.
I stared out the window and listened on the open cell phone line as Mom searched for an outfit. She wasn’t much of a shopper. It didn’t take long before she was at the cash register paying for her disguise. Now she was on the hunt for Astrid.
Mom’s voice came through my phone. “Clarity, I’ve exited the boutique. I’m covering the southwest quadrant, surveilling the slot machines. Over.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, check the poker tables. Seems more like Astrid’s speed.”
“Roger that.”
I heard rustling sounds as my mother swished through the casino.
“Bingo room, all clear.”
“Good. Have you gotten to the poker tables yet?” I stared out the window at the clouds floating by.
“Ten-four. Approaching the area now.”
Finally. I had a momentary bout of panic when I thought about my mom possibly confronting the tall, strong Olympian. I just hoped Astrid wasn’t into beating up older ladies. Although, I was pretty sure after years of farming, wrestling goats, and what not, Mom would be a formidable opponent.
