Molly knocked on the door of Cora Lester’s home hair studio with a heavy dose of guilt as her companion. She’d had Jill call and schedule Anne—Jill’s mother and Sam’s aunt—for a cut and color. There was every chance that Cora was going to slam the door in her face.
Other than the oval sign advertising “Cora’s Coifs” at the beginning of the driveway, the house looked like several others in the area: two-story heritage design with an arched roof and a sweet front porch. A swing hung from the ceiling of the porch, moving gently in the breeze.
The door swung open and Cora’s radiant smile slipped immediately upon seeing Molly.
“Oh. Hello, Molly. Can I help you?”
Molly pasted on a helpless smile, cringing inside at her own underhanded behavior. “I hope so. I know it’s kind of sneaky, but I asked Jill to make me an appointment with you. I’m your three o’clock. I just can’t find anyone to do my hair and everyone I talk to says you’re so good at it and I understand if you want me to go, but I just had to try. You said you don’t take any walk-ins and I wasn’t sure if you’d entertain the thought of letting me book with you and I just wanted to look good for Katherine’s party tonight, so…”
Please don’t slam the door.
Cora’s features moved through a myriad of emotions. Frustration, surprise, and, to Molly’s delight, resignation. She gave a heavy, very audible sigh and stepped back, inviting Molly in.
“I don’t like the way you went about it, but I suppose I understand. I wouldn’t have booked you if you’d just called. I don’t like to take new clients, especially young women who change their minds at the drop of a hat.”
“Oh, thank you, Cora. I really appreciate it. So much. You know how it is when you move from a big city and there’s lots of people to choose from. I just didn’t want to end up with orange hair like Kelly Shumaker did after she went to Valerie at Crazy Cuts.”
Cora shut the door behind Molly and laughed. “You go to a place called Crazy Cuts, what do you expect? Come on in. Does Anne know you used her name?”
Molly’s blush wasn’t phony. “I owe her approximately one dozen scones from Bella and dinner with Sam and me.”
Cora’s light, easy laugh surprised Molly. “That woman knows how to make a deal. Come on. My shop is in the back.”
The house was quaint, nicely decorated with a homey feel. She wondered if Shannon had grown up in this house and if she had any siblings. Short of getting the cold shoulder and a few terse words, Molly hadn’t had any interactions with Cora’s daughter.
Cora’s shop had one of those beaded room dividers that people used to hang in their doorways ages ago. It rattled like a wooden wind instrument as they walked through. The room was set up with one washing station and one chair. The walls were a pale pink and vintage hair advertisements had been blown up and framed. It was classy and simple.
“What do you want done?” Cora gestured to the black chair in front of an oval mirror.
Molly hung her bag on a hook she noticed on the wall and then went to the chair. “A cut. That’s all. Summer is coming and it’s gotten long. I just need to tidy it up with a trim.”
“Oh, well, that’s no trouble. Let’s just have you at the sink then.” She put an apron around Molly and then let her settle at the sink. She washed her hair with delicious-smelling product and Molly closed her eyes a minute, remembering how much she loved the feel of someone else washing her hair.
As she’d hoped but temporarily forgotten while her scalp was being massaged, Cora began to chatter. She started with small-scale gossip—was Bella ever going to realize how much better she was than that Callan, why did the principal at the local high school think no one knew he’d had hair implants, and how Shannon was up for the vice principal job and an absolute shoo-in.
As Cora rubbed conditioner onto Molly’s long brown hair, Molly asked, “Who do you think we’ll have for potential mayoral candidates?” She just needed to get her to relax into an easy conversation before pitching some harder questions.
Cora smiled down at her. “My gut is we’ll only have a few. Lots of people are happy to complain about a situation, but when it comes time to step up and do something about it, make a change, we’re oddly silent. I’m hoping Sheriff Saron just stays.”
Molly didn’t respond with what she knew. It wasn’t her place to say, and everyone would know soon enough.
Cora pursed her lips a moment. “We’d do well with someone who has a history here. Someone like John Granger. But on the other hand, wouldn’t hurt to have someone like Beau Harrison. He’s one of us but not from here, so he’s got some perspective.”
Molly made an “mmm” sound, not wanting to show her happiness at the conversation leading into the perfect segue. Cora turned on the spray hose and rinsed Molly’s hair.
“I wonder if Debra has any thoughts on Beau running. She doesn’t seem like she enjoys sharing his attention all that much,” Molly said, eyes closed.
She didn’t need her eyes open to feel the way Cora’s fingers tightened in her hair. “Yes, well, that woman doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. She doesn’t deserve him.”
Molly’s eyelids fluttered open. “Oh? I thought you were friends.”
Cora scoffed and pulled a towel off a shelf above her. Molly saw the tense set of her jaw. “No. We’re not friends. She doesn’t know how to have friends. Or a boyfriend. Thinks bribing and conniving is the way to people’s hearts.”
As she sat up, wincing a little when Cora’s towel drying got a bit rough, Molly said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that. I chatted with her the other day. She said she’d been with you during the time of the murder.”
Cora’s hands stopped and her breathing hitched. Molly’s heart did the same. “What are you really doing here, Molly?”
Cora stepped away as Molly stood, holding the towel to her head. “I really do need a haircut. But the truth is, Judd didn’t kill Magnolia. We can’t let him go to jail while the real killer goes free.”
The hairdresser’s already pale face went completely ashen. “But Chris arrested Judd.”
“Yes. There was a lot of convenient evidence. And other people had alibis. Ones that may not have been true. For instance, Deb wasn’t with you when she said she was, was she?”
Cora turned away. Approaching a multi-drawer storage unit, she started pulling things out: scissors, comb, clips. “I don’t know where you heard that.”
“Cora, if Beau or Deb are guilty, that’s going to come to light. I truly believe you really can’t get away with murder.”
Cora dropped a couple of the clips on the ground and when she straightened from picking them up, she met Molly’s gaze. “Beau is a good man. Deb is always worrying about him cheating but I don’t know why. It’s plain as day he loves her. He is a good man, Molly. Not a murderer.”
Before bringing up the fact that Cora only spoke on behalf of Beau, Molly said, “So is Judd.” The more she dug into this, the more she believed it.
Cora swallowed, her eyes darting away. “Deb has a heck of a temper. You think Magnolia was something, you should see Deb when she doesn’t get what she wants.”
“Enough of a temper to kill? Why did you cover for her?”
The hairdresser looked down. Molly stepped forward. “Are you scared of her?”
Cora’s head snapped up. “Good lord, no. I’m embarrassed is all. Being taken for a fool doesn’t feel nice. She told me she’d help me get a bigger role in the play. They’ve had to do some shuffling and Tiffany is taking out some of the ridiculous ideas Magnolia added to the script. A tree. Like I want to be a tree?”
Really? She’d covered for a possible murderer to get a better role? Molly thought she’d left Hollywood, but maybe not.
Cora gestured to the chair in front of the mirror. “Sit down. I have another appointment in a half hour.”
Molly sat. “Why did Deb ask you to cover for her?”
“Because she was following Beau. She came to me, said she didn’t want him to know she didn’t trust him all the way and the cops had asked where she was. She said it was the first thing that popped into her mind.”
Was it because Deb had been too frazzled from being asked her whereabouts? Or maybe she’d felt guilty and hadn’t thought things all the way through to having an alibi.
Cora started talking about the play and opening night, the buzz surrounding it, and how people on set were arguing over Tiffany’s insistence that one of them open with an “ode to Magnolia.”
“I mean, if she loves the woman so much, why not just say something herself?”
Molly didn’t respond because she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts. If she had to put her suspects in order right this minute, she’d go with
1. Deb—jealousy was a powerful motivator
2. Tiffany/Vivien—money was also a powerful motivator, as was success, plus they clearly knew each other
3. Beau—lied about alibi/golf
Cora could be crossed off. Not only did she not strike Molly as a killer—gut instinct was about all she had at the moment—but she didn’t have enough to gain. In the time Molly had lived in Britton Bay, she’d experienced Cora’s unkind words, cold shoulder, and dismissal. She’d never seen evidence of aggression or violence. Which didn’t necessarily mean anything, but again, Cora had nothing to gain by Magnolia’s death, and in her experience, murder was usually committed for a reason.
Though she wanted to talk to him again, she also felt fairly confident about crossing Beau off of her list. He’d known the woman for years, married her, lived with her. If he hadn’t killed her then, why would he now?
She sent Chris a quick text and asked about the will and Vivien’s arrival in case he forgot. He wouldn’t, but she really needed that information.
If Beau stood to inherit nothing, he had no motive. Unless…what if he wanted to marry Deb and Magnolia wouldn’t divorce him? Why were they still married after all of these years? If Beau was about to inherit millions, maybe he did have a reason. But why now? Did he suddenly need money?
Okay. Maybe he wasn’t all the way crossed off. When Molly left Cora’s, happy with her hair and satisfied with her decision to take the woman off her suspect list, she tried to put all thoughts of the murder and Magnolia out of her head. Tonight was about celebrating a very special woman.