Deadly Dye and a Soy Chai: a Danger Cove Hair Salon Mystery (Danger Cove Mysteries Book 5) by Traci Andrighetti, Elizabeth Ashby Page A

is cozy."
    "Yeah, that anchor really gives us privacy." I took a seat and reached for the drink menu. I needed a stiff shot of something and quick. "Wait. Where did Gia go?"
    "She stayed at the bar to hand out some flyers."
    My stomach dropped, and I'm pretty sure my blood pressure did too. I didn't know what she was up to, but I knew it wasn't good. I began to study the drink menu in earnest.
    "Ahoy there, mateys!" Gia yelled as she flopped down into the seat beside me.
    Amy blushed and averted her gaze. "Your silicone is showing."
    "Blimey!" Gia shoved a rogue Chicken Fillet back into her bra.
    I clenched my jaw. "Drop the pirate parlay and show me one of your flyers."
    Her visible eye opened wide, and she went as stiff as a plank. "Uh, I ran out."
    "Isn't that convenient?" I leaned forward and pointed a finger at her bra-embellished chest. "If this has anything to do with that Egyptian thing, I swear that I will personally embalm and mummify you for the event."
    "Gah, Cass." She frowned as she adjusted a bra strap. "You're so grouchy lately."
    I smirked. "Gee, I wonder why."
    Her face softened. "Look, I know that the salon is in a crisis, so I decided to take this opportunity to try to drum up some business. The ad you ran in the Cove Chronicles came out the same day as that nasty article, so I figured that we could use a plan B."
    Now I felt like a wench. "Do you really think anyone will want to come to the salon after two murders?"
    "Cassidi's got a point," Amy said, folding her arms on the table.
    I scowled. "You stay out of this."
    "But I was agreeing with you," she said. "Gia's right. You are griesgrämig lately."
    "See?" Gia gestured toward Amy. "Try a little optimism. There are people who will go anywhere to get a deal. Take Bree Milford, for example."
    "Who?" Amy asked.
    "She's the owner of Ocean View Bed & Breakfast, and she's a salon regular," I replied.
    "Because she's got an unnatural need to have her eyebrows done once a week," Gia added. "If she can get those two lawns weeded at a discount with a free drink thrown in, she'll step over a dead body to get into the salon."
    Maybe she was right. There had to be other people like Bree who would take a chance on The Clip and Sip. We just had to try harder to find them.
    "Sorry for the wait, ladies," a thirtyish brunette said. "My name's Hope, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink?"
    What I really wanted was a Shiner Bock beer from home—with some barbecued brisket and blackberry cobbler smothered in Texas's own Bluebell vanilla ice cream. Wait. Nothing with "blue" in the name.
    "You got any grog, lassie?" Gia asked, affecting a pirate accent.
    "Uh, no," Hope replied as she passed out menus and bar napkins. "But our drink special tonight is a Creole Custa, which is a rum and fruit base infused with chili."
    Gia stuck her tongue out. "Fruit and chili? Where are we, Mexico? We'll just take a round of good old-fashioned coconut vodka shots, please."
    "And three Rainier beer chasers," I added.
    "Coming right up," Hope said. She grinned at Gia before heading for the bar.
    "Did you see that?" Gia flailed her arm in Hope's direction. "She gave me a funny look, just like everyone else here. They're all staring at us, you know."
    "How?" I asked, gesturing toward the anchor.
    "They can see us when they walk by."
    I put my finger to my lips. "Maybe they can't peel their eyes off your pirate patch and disco-ball mouth."
    "Or they're bedazzled by your bra," Amy added.
    "Then it's because they recognize fashion when they see it," Gia said, taking a sideways glance at Amy's Snow White sleeves.
    Oblivious to Gia's jab, Amy reached for the menu. "What's everyone getting to eat? They make a mean basket of fish and chips."
    Gia wrinkled her lips. "Nothing. I've got agita ."
    Amy furrowed her brow. "They're going to have a band tonight. Maybe you should work off your nervous energy on the dance floor."
    "Not agitated ," I said. " Agita . It's New