Brody cursed, shoving his hands in his pockets and rattling the change.
Jo snapped a loose thread on her jacket cuff. “The last link to Robbie. Gone.”
Chapter Fifteen
Monday, April 15, 9:00 A.M.
Jo arrived early enough at her mother’s salon so that they’d have at least fifteen minutes before her staff arrived for the early morning cuts.
She used her key and let herself inside. “Mom!”
“In the back room, Jo.”
Jo found her mom stocking perm and hair dye supplies on the shelf.
Candace’s hair was spiked and sprayed in place and her makeup as neat as a mask. “I don’t have much time to talk, Jo. Got lots to inventory before the day gets rolling.”
“You should turn that over to Ellie.”
“I don’t mind it.”
“You ever considered cutting back on your hours?”
“And what would I do with myself?”
“Have fun. You haven’t had fun since Daddy died.”
Candace’s eyes grew wistful. “Hard to top your daddy, baby. He was one in a million.”
Her parents had had a loving marriage. It hadn’t been perfect. They’d had their share of fights and tough times, but they’d always stuck together. “I miss Daddy.”
“Me too. Every day.” Her mother swallowed, as if squashing unwanted emotions. “What’s this all about?”
Jo wanted an honest conversation with her mother. No judgments. No finger pointing. “It’s not been announced to the media, but Harvey Lee Smith died yesterday in the prison. Doctors think his heart stopped.”
Other than a subtle tightening of her jaw, her mother had no reaction. “Why should I care if some crazy man died in prison yesterday?”
The muscles in the back of Jo’s neck tightened. “Mom, I don’t want to fight. I want to ask you point-blank if Harvey Smith is my biological father.”
Candace twisted the silver bracelets on her arm. “That is crazy talk.”
“And that isn’t an answer. It’s classic avoidance.”
Candace leveled her gaze on Jo as if she were looking at a misbehaving eight-year-old. “I don’t need your doctor talk, young lady. I am your momma.”
“I will always love Daddy no matter what, Momma. I want to understand my genetics.”
Her eyes widened with anger and a touch of panic. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”
“I’m not asking you to.” She flexed the fingers of her right hand, wishing they didn’t have to have this conversation. “Mom, please, give me a straight answer.”
“I don’t like your tone.”
Jo sighed. She knew her mother well enough to know they’d go round and round like this and they’d get nowhere. “Fine, Momma, fine.”
Candace glared at Jo. “And what does that mean?”
“DNA, Mom.” Frustration raised the volume of her voice. “That will give me the answers you won’t.”
The front door of the shop chimed, reminding Jo she’d not locked the front door behind her. Candace’s face was strained and angry but she held her tongue, knowing a customer could be in earshot.
“Mom, send whoever it is away so we can finish this.”
Candace shook her head. “You know walk-ins are always welcome here. Always.”
Jo ground her teeth. “This is bigger than a damn haircut.”
“Those damn haircuts put a roof over your head and food in your belly. I’ve never turned away a customer, and I never will.”
Her mother pushed through the curtain into the salon. “Welcome to Candy’s Hair Salon.”
Jo knew there’d be no more discussion today. Frustrated and more certain than ever her mother was hiding something from her, Jo pushed through the curtain. She expected to toss a passing nod at a customer. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.
Dr. Dayton grinned at her mother. “I was hoping to get a haircut. Sign said walk-ins welcome.”
Candace reached for her smock. “Of course.”
He looked at Jo, not a hint of apology or surprise in his gaze. “Dr. Granger. Fancy meeting you here.”
Jo clenched her fingers around the strap of her purse. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting a haircut,” her mother said. All traces of anger in her voice were gone. There was no place for tension or politics in her salon when a client was on the property.
Jo shook her head. “You need to leave, Dr. Dayton.”
Dayton looked amused. “Is there a problem?”
Candace stepped forward in front of Jo. “No, there is no problem. My daughter is confused.”
Dayton’s grin widened. “Daughter. Now, I’d have thought you two were sisters.”
Candace beamed.
Jo seethed. He wasn’t here for a haircut. He’d been following her again. Had he been outside her house when she’d left this morning? She’d not seen anything suspicious, but stalkers were clever. “If you don’t leave, Dr. Dayton, I’m calling the police.”
“Jo!” her mother shouted as she moved in front of her. “That is enough out of you, little lady.”
Dayton managed to look genuinely confused. “Is there a problem, Dr. Granger?”
“Yes, there is a problem.” Jo moved in front of her mother. “Seven days ago I interviewed you about the disappearance of your wife. The next day you show up in a dress shop. And now you are here. What game are you playing, you pathetic jerk?”
“Jo!” her mother warned. “I have never heard you speak with such disrespect.” Her patience now threadbare, Jo held up her hand to silence her mother. Intellectually, she could see that she was letting Dayton manipulate her, but her emotions didn’t care about reason with such a dangerous threat near her family. “Leave now, Dr. Dayton.”
“You’re a bit prickly,” he said. The laughter had vanished from his gaze.
She clenched her fingers into tight fists. “And you are a stalker. Now leave. Or we let the cops settle it.”
Dayton looked
beyond Jo to Candace. “Mrs. Ganger, I am sorry, but I won’t be able to stay. Perhaps another time.”
Candace looked mortified. “Of course.”
“No,” Jo said. “You show up on this property, and I will call the police.”
Dayton snapped up a peppermint from the jar on the receptionist desk and slowly unwrapped it. “You’re overreacting, Dr. Granger.”
“I don’t think so, but if I am, I’ll live with it. Now get out.”
Gaze narrowing, he slowly placed the candy in his mouth and folded the wrapper in half. “See you soon.” He turned, tossed the wrapper in the trash, and left.
Jo shook with anger. She’d written off the mall as coincidence but not this. This place was too far out of his way and too unlike any place he’d frequent.
“Jolene Marie Granger,” her mother said, teeth clenched. “If you think you’re going to get back at me by insulting my clients, you better think twice.”
Jo faced her mother, her fingers still fisted at her side. “Do you think I’m trying to get back at you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Drawing in a deep breath, she silenced the first remark that came to mind and slowly unfurled her fingers. “The man is a person of interest, which really means he’s a suspect , in the disappearance of his wife. She’s been missing for months.”
The fire blazing in her mother’s gaze didn’t cool a degree. “People go missing all the time for all kinds of reasons!”
“Everything I know about body language and interview techniques tells me he knows his wife did not run away. I’d bet my last dollar that he killed her.”
She planted hands on her narrow hips. “Innocent until proven guilty, Jo.”
Jo tipped her head back, praying for the patience that was her trademark. “Don’t let that man in your shop again. He is poison, and he’s trying to get to me.”
Her mother muttered as she pulled a cigarette and lighter out of her smock pocket. “Why is it always about you?”
Irritation clawed at her gut. “This is not about me. It’s about keeping you safe.”
Candace shoved the cigarette in her mouth. She flicked the lighter three times before it lit. “You keep telling yourself that.”