Laid Out and Candle Lit (10 page)

“Just good luck, I guess. Hope
I
don’t run into her,” Tizzy declared.

Ridge raised his brows. “Let me get this straight. This Carla person comes back to town a few weeks ago and she was always after Boone. Tell me. How did she feel about Marlene?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
ime was important for the self-employed, so Ridge called and made an appointment with Norma Harkey at her salon for the interview.

Clippity-Do–Da, a one-woman operation with one shampoo bowl and two hair dryers, was decorated with a French theme. Black and white checkerboard tiles covered the floor and pink blinds hung on the windows. A chandelier hung suspended above the counter, and a wallpaper border with the words ‘ooh-la-la’ circled the room at the ceiling.

Bouncing her hair with her palm, she smiled. “Ah, the prerogative of a stylist. Today, Red Pulse, next week, Fun-to-go-Blonde. I think when we met at Marlene’s service, I was Warm Umber. I’ve changed my color so much that I don’t remember what my original shade is anymore.” She chuckled. “Please take a seat. Now, what would you like to know about Marlene?” Her eyes misted as she pulled a tissue from her smock and dabbed at them.

“How long had you and Mrs. Weston been friends?”

“We go back to high school,” she said. “Marlene and I were cheerleaders together, in choir together, went to church together.” She blotted her eyes again. “I’m gonna miss her so much. I already do.”

“No. She never complained about anyone other than Tizzy. For the life of me, I can’t understand why anyone would want to kill her. I heard through the grapevine her jewelry and money were missing. So if it was a robbery, it could have been anybody. Even someone passing through, right?”

Ridge nodded. “Possible, but I think it was personal, so I’m focusing my investigation around that. I’m not ruling robbery out, but I’m not sure the missing jewelry and cash is the motive. Did she and Mr. Weston ever have any problems?”

She diverted her eyes, then looked back at Ridge. “Not that I know of.”

“What’s the history with Marlene and Carl? I understand they were high school sweethearts.”

“Well, Carl wasn’t Marlene’s first choice.” Norma shook her head. “I’m not saying she didn’t love Carl. I think over time, she grew to care for him, but she married him because Mommy and Daddy approved.”

Ridge leaned back in his chair. “Who was her first choice?”

Norma laughed to herself. “That’s what’s so funny. He turned out to be quite successful. His name is Kyle Richmond and he lives in the Dallas area. In high school he puttered with cars and trucks, kind of a shade-tree mechanic. After graduation, he went to work for a trucking company and ended up owning the business.”

“What about Carl? Was Marlene his first choice?”

Norma stared off into space. “Oh, I think so. His family was well respected. They didn’t have money like Marlene’s, but Carl is a hard worker. He’s worked to build the bank over the years and done a good job.”

Ridge jotted something down in his small notebook. “What about affairs? Did Marlene ever confide in you she might suspect Carl of cheating?”

“Heavens no. Carl?” Norma scrunched up her face. “He’s really not the type.”

“What type would that be?” Ridge asked.

Norma laced her fingers together and rested her hands in her lap. “The kind who’d go to the trouble to plan and carry out some clandestine affair. He’s more apt to spend his free time building bird houses.”

“Yes, she
had
a standing appointment with me every Wednesday at four o’clock. That was the last time.”

Ridge leaned forward. “According to her cell phone records, the night of her death, she called you about the time she left the church meeting. Why did she call?”

Norma swallowed hard and her eyes darted away. “She invited me to the movies over the weekend.”

Ridge made another entry in his notebook. “You said Tizzy Donovan was the only one Marlene ever complained about. What kind of issues exactly?”

Norma took a breath. “Work stuff. Tizzy stood up to Marlene. She made her life difficult and took a lot of pleasure in doing so. If Marlene said something was black, Tizzy said it was white. Tizzy enjoyed the misery she caused her.”

Ridge closed his small notebook and clicked his pen. “Well, I think that’s all the questions for today.” He handed her his card. “If anything else comes to mind, give me a call. Thank you for your time.” He smiled and tipped his hat as he left.

Ridge made his way back down to the police station and found everyone gone except for Rita. She looked up with a mouthful of cream-filled sponge cake, wiped the corners of her mouth, and swallowed quickly. “Hello, Cooper. I’m afraid all the menfolk are out and about.”

“That’s okay, Rita. Do y’all have school yearbooks in the office?”

“We do.” She got up and motioned for him to follow her down the hall, opening the door marked
records.
“On the top shelf, and I think there’s one for every year going back to the thirties. I guess you’re looking for the year Marlene graduated?”

“Yeah, I think it would be nineteen eighty-five.”

“They’re in order, so help yourself,” she said.

He thumbed through the pages until he reached the graduating class. He squinted in deep concentration studying the pictures of Marlene, Norma, Carl, and Kyle Richmond. He tried to imagine how Kyle would look now, and recall if he had seen him at Marlene’s service. If memory served him, he believed Richmond was one of the first to leave, which meant he would have been sitting at the back, as far from the family as possible.

He turned to the athletic pages. Cheerleaders Marlene and Norma, football players Carl Weston at guard and Kyle Richmond, quarterback.
Kyle was good-looking, tall and lean, with dark hair. Even though the picture was black and white, the blue eyes were obvious.
Oh yeah . . . good looking and the quarterback.
Every high school girl’s wet dream. He started to close the book, but did some quick math. He turned to the kindergarten section and smiled.
Tizzy McAlister.
She looked like Gracie.

He took the book up front. “Hey Rita, can you make a copy of this page?” Not realizing he still had his finger marking the kindergarten page, he handed it to her.

She laughed. “You want a copy of Tizzy’s kindergarten picture?”

He fumbled to get the book back, and stuttered. “I . . . I . . . no, I need this page.” Quickly he turned to the graduating class. “Also, run all four of their driver’s licenses.”

“Sure.” She typed the names on her keyboard and within a minute, all four licenses appeared on her computer screen. While she printed them off, she waddled to the copier and ran the yearbook pictures. She passed the copies to Ridge and asked, “Would you put the book back for me? Oh, and by the way, I think Tizzy graduated in nineteen ninety- eight, if you want to see her senior picture.” She giggled.

“Not much. Old man Jones had some cattle get out on the highway this morning and I helped him get’em back in. That’s the most excitement I’ve had today.” He turned to face Ridge. By the way, isn’t this your day to go to Dallas?”

“Yeah, but I’m not going until Monday. Thanks to Norma Harkey, I’ve got a new person of interest to question.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

F
rom the moment Ridge came in, Lauralee Rainey had her eyes on him and Tizzy had her eyes on
both
of them.

Ridge was wearing jeans starched so stiff they could stand alone, cowboy boots, a pink polo shirt, and no hat. He took a stool at the bar and Lauralee slid onto the one next to him. Tizzy had to admit, if the woman went a little lighter on the make-up and relaxed the big-bar-hair just a tad, she wouldn’t be bad looking. She had a nice body. Her low-rider jeans and skimpy tank top made it obvious. Her fingernails were long and painted. Her lips looked as if she could suck a peach through a straw, and a small butterfly tattoo peeked from the top of her right breast.

Tizzy came back to the end of the bar and moved next to Saint. “Daddy, would you tell Freddy to get a case of Bud from the cooler?”

“Sure, baby. Later, Cooper.”

“Yes sir, nice to meet you.”

Within a few minutes, Tizzy’s Uncle Sam joined her as Freddy brought the beer and set the case on the counter in front of her. “Thank you, Freddy,” she said, noticing Ridge looking at him. “Oh, Cooper, this is my Uncle Sam, Sugarpie’s husband, and you remember Freddy.”

Freddy walked away and Sam draped his arm around Tizzy’s shoulders and addressed Ridge. “Since you’re living right next door to Tizzy, you’ll have to get her to cook for you sometime. She’s pretty good in the kitchen.”

Ridge’s mind immediately thought of other rooms she would be good in. “Actually, she’s already cooked for me and you’re right, she is a good cook.”

Sam smiled down at Tizzy. “Hmmm . . . has she now?”

An hour later, Ridge looked miserable each time Tizzy caught his gaze. As soon as Lauralee made a trip to the jukebox, Ridge motioned for Tizzy. “Help me out,” he said.

Tizzy watched him walk away. He had a swagger about him. He was attractive. And even though he didn’t smile much, when he did, it was honest and sincere. She’d liked him from the moment she’d met him. She sighed, giving herself permission to think about how they would be more than friends under different circumstances.

Tizzy was finishing her conversation with Lauralee when Ridge returned and took his place back on the stool. Lauralee turned to him and said, “Nice to meet you, Ridge Cooper. See you later.” She swept off, on to her next victim.

Ridge raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you did, but thank you. What
did
you do?”

Her lips thinned with a smile. “Nothing much. I told her she was wasting her time because you’re gay. She bought it, probably because of your pinkalicious shirt.”

Ridge took a long pull on his beer and flashed a slow easy smile. “FYI, only real men wear pinkalicious shirts. It puts us in touch with our feminine side. Besides, those nails of hers could do some serious bodily damage.” He kept his smile and widened his eyes. “I like my women soft and cuddly.”

A warm tingle started between Tizzy’s legs and spread heat through her body. Her brain scrambled for something to say. “Oh, Bubba proposed to Rayann last night.”

Ridge shifted on his stool. “Are you serious?”