Aretha Moon and the Dead Hairdresser: Aretha Moon Book 2 (Aretha Moon Mysteries) by Linda Ross (reading books for 7 year olds .TXT) 📗

infection and lost a toe.  Then there was Harold.  He snuck a bag of popcorn into the movie theater and choked on it.  The theater ended up suing him over it because of the disturbance it caused.  And Jack crashed his boat into the dock and ruptured his spleen.”

“Well, boats can be dangerous,” I said.

“It was a canoe.”

“Listen, Darlene,” I said, “I’m afraid that if I write up this story you’re going to be known as the unluckiest woman in the world.”

“I know.  But I figure I might as well embrace my life.”

“That’s very brave,” I said.

“Not really.  There’s no other choice.  Nobody wants me around because of all the accidents that happen.  My only relative is a cousin in Quincy, and I haven’t seen her since I went to her wedding shower and her microwave caught fire.”

“So you’re spending Thanksgiving alone?” I asked.

“I’ll get a turkey sandwich from the quick shop.  And I’ve got a bottle of wine.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” I said.  I know this is crazy, but Darlene looked so forlorn and fragile.  “Why don’t you come have dinner with my family?”

“Really?”  She looked so ridiculously hopeful that I couldn’t back out.

“Sure.  Why not?  I live off of Highway 79.  Take the second left after Lovers Leap.  We’ll eat around five, but come a little earlier.”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you,” Darlene said.  “I’m really looking forward to it.”

I took a photo of Darlene holding a light bulb, which actually did glow faintly, but it might have been from light coming in the window.  We heard a thumping sound on the door, and when she opened it a squirrel jumped down and ran off with the O from her Welcome sign.

“At least he didn’t run inside this time,” she said.  “When he stole the C he ran inside with it when I opened the door.  I chased him all over the house.  He knocked everything off the mantel before he ran up the chimney and out.”

“Well, I’d better get back to the office and write this up.  You’re sure you want to go through with this?”

She nodded.  “Maybe there’s someone like me out there, and we can connect.”

“Okay,” I said.  I started to tell her good luck, but that seemed ironic.

What had I just done?  I’d invited the world’s unluckiest woman to Thanksgiving dinner.  As if Thanksgiving dinner wasn’t a disaster waiting to happen without additional help.

I took one last look at her sad little Welcome sign and shook my head.  It took me two Diet Cokes to write up the story once I was back at the office.  Thelma was just finishing up a story about a family of deer who regularly visited a quick shop in northern Illinois for a potato chip and root beer fix.  The story had come on the subscription service and just required a couple of embellishments to fit the tenor of The Spyglass.  Per Lorenzo’s instructions, Thelma made the deer into a family of moose and changed the potato chips to pizza and chewing tobacco.  The animal protection people would be up in arms about the chewing tobacco, but Lorenzo loved controversy.  It generally upped circulation.  And I don’t know if there are even moose in northern Illinois.  I’m surprised Lorenzo didn’t make it a Yeti family instead.

Thelma and I were working together on the horoscope, and she was trying to make me tone it down.  Apparently giving Aquarius an STD and a traffic fine was over the top.  Rose wandered over and sat down next to us.

“I was just wondering how it went with the hair salon.  Was what’s-her-name helpful?”

“Serena,” I said.  “Do you remember if Kara would steal credit card information?”

 Rose didn’t answer for a moment.  “I think she was convicted of that when she went to jail.  She used her employer’s credit card for personal purchases.”

“Do you think she might have been doing the same thing at Hair Affair?”

“I don’t really know.”

“Did she ever talk about having a grudge against Stephanie Riley?  That’s the woman who was killed in the hit and run.”

“I think she might have said something once or twice about Stephanie being jealous because they were seeing the same guy.”

“Really?  Who was it?”

“I’m not sure, but I think he was an artist.  I just got a glimpse of him one time.  Some big guy with dark hair.”

“Well, thank you,” I said.  “That’s very helpful.”

“Sure.  Whatever I can do.”

Rose went back to her filing, and Thelma and I sent our respective stories to Lorenzo on the computer, then got our coats.

“Want to come have dinner with Jimmy and me tonight?”

“No, thanks.  I promised my brother I would bring home some pizza.  I’ve been cooking for him and he’s ready for take-out.”

“Probably all those salads,” I said.  “See you tomorrow.  We’ll go scout around Stephanie’s house and then check out Jeffery Connell.”

Thelma crossed herself.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

I couldn’t help myself.  On the way home I drove down the road past Kara’s house and Stephanie’s house.  There was a car parked near the front door at Stephanie’s, so I figured her husband was home.  I headed back to my house and let Nancy out, then checked on Eileen, although I had to brace myself with a couple of donuts beforehand.

By some miracle Eileen was still sane.  I don’t know how she managed it.  Dad and Momo were watching TV again, some celebrity judge show.  Momo was shouting that the plaintiff, an older woman who claimed she was owed rent from a former boyfriend, was right.  Dad was just as adamant that the defendant, the aforementioned boyfriend, didn’t owe her anything.  “He painted her house!” he was shouting.

“He didn’t paint her house!” Momo shouted back.  “He spray painted it with graffiti!”

I left them arguing and told Eileen I