Not in the Heart by Chris Fabry Page B

time?”
    â€œI think she had business on the side. I didn’t pry. Her mom was sick, so she needed some extra cash.”
    â€œIs her mother still living?”
    â€œAs far as I know.”
    â€œBoyfriend?”
    She shook her head. “She never talked about anybody and I never saw her with anyone. She was always one of our most popular stylists because she really got to know the people, you know? She even took that guy cookies, that’s what kind of person she was.”
    â€œYou mean Conley?”
    â€œYeah, she felt sorry for him. She’d take him food around the holidays. A sandwich or a cool drink on a hot day. Just the sweetest thing.”
    I got the point about how sweet she was.
    â€œDo you remember that last day? Was there anything different about her?”
    She shrugged. “She was a little antsy. Agitated. I think it was because she saw Conley.”
    â€œWhy would he make her agitated?”
    â€œI don’t know—maybe he threatened her or something.”
    â€œShe said that?”
    â€œNo, I’m just guessing.”
    Wanda seemed a little impatient and I decided to drop the bomb. That’s the main reason you come for the interview—the question you want answered when you walk in the door, that you wait to deliver when the mood is right. My conversation with Sawyer made me at least mildly curious about the boss.
    â€œHow did she get along with Curtis?”
    The cigarette hung on her lips like a bird on an electric wire in a hurricane. “What’s he got to do with it?”
    â€œI’ve heard stories that he likes to dip in the company pool. Did he and Diana have a relationship?”
    â€œAll right, you can leave now,” she said, struggling to get out of her chair. And it was a struggle. A civil war of hips and leg muscles that finally led to her opening the door beside me and blowing smoke in my face.
    I lifted my hands. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just wondered if she and Curtis knew each other well.”
    She pointed like I was a dog. “I said get out.”
    Dexter was holding my change when I passed him.
    â€œKeep it. Sorry for the trouble.”
    Wanda berated Dexter as I headed for the door and into the street. I looked at the surveillance cameras near the front and then walked the sidewalk where Terrelle had verbally accosted Diana. I wanted to get a feel of the area so I could put it down well. Capture the uneven concrete, cracking and filled in with makeshift patches. Parking meters leaning like Towers of Pisa. Storm grates that didn’t fit properly, jutting up like a waiting lawsuit. Trash cans filled to overflowing. Happy bees that should have been spreading pollen sucking from empty Dr Pepper and Coca-Cola cans.
    In my head I was writing the scene, watching Diana come out of the salon, Terrelle accosting her, Wanda following in polyester. Though, for the sensitive, I would have left out the polyester. A smell of stale beer hit me from a nearby bar. Men in long-sleeved shirts stood by a liquor store in the heat, hoping for a drink or a smoke or both. Dogs barking in the pet store window. Let the reader taste and smell the story.
    The bus stop was at the end of the street, with a bench sporting graffiti over several layers of paint. I turned and looked back, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of life. This was where the death of Diana Wright had begun.

C HAPTER 10
    I drove toward the hospital but passed a Toyota dealership and had to check with the parts department. I explained I needed to replace the driver’s window and asked the cost. I wasn’t sure which hurt worse, the crowbar to the cheek or the estimate from the three-whiskered kid behind the counter. I couldn’t keep driving around with no way to lock the car, but for the moment I would have to settle for duct tape and plastic.
    This was the same feeling I had when my writing