Powdered Peril by Jessica Beck

questioning.
    “Did you speak with Leah, or Burt?” I asked.
    George frowned for a second. “What is this about, Suzanne?”
    “Trust me, it’s relevant. We’re interviewing suspects,” I admitted.
    “And you think I killed Peter?” he asked, clearly bemused by the very thought of it.
    I shook my head. “Of course not.”
    He nodded, and added a smile as well. “I thank you both for that. Then you must believe that Burt might have done it.”
    “No, we were thinking more along the lines of Leah,” I replied.
    George shook his head. “Okay, you just lost me again. Why would she kill Peter? I just don’t get it.”
    Grace answered him in a halting voice. “Not a great many folks know this, but they were dating on the side. If there was a rift between the two of them, she might have a motive for killing him.”
    “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” George answered, slumping back down into his chair. “I didn’t know.”
    “There’s no reason you would,” Grace said. “So, which one did you speak with?”
    “It was Leah,” he admitted.
    “So, it was nothing about the murder, then?”
    “No, sorry to disappoint you,” George said. “Are you two sure you don’t want my help?”
    “You can’t,” I said as Polly walked back in.
    “I’m sorry,” she said as she tapped her watch, “but you really do have to go.”
    George nodded and stood again. “I have to go. Listen, if you two get yourselves in trouble, call me,” he said as he walked out of his office.
    We all watched him go, and then Polly said, almost to herself, “I’m worried about him. He’s working too hard.”
    “It’s got to be a tough job,” I said.
    She looked at me as though she’d forgotten that I was there. “It can be, if it’s done correctly. I’m afraid Cam let a great many things fall through the cracks during his tenure, and George is trying to fix them all himself overnight. I keep telling him it can’t be done, at least not without a great deal more time than he’s got, but he won’t listen to me.”
    “He can be a stubborn man, but he’s worth it,” I said.
    “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she said, though I saw her cheeks redden slightly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work myself.”
    *   *   *
    After we left city hall, I pointed to the hair salon. “We’re this close. We might as well see why someone at the hardware store called them.”
    We didn’t even have to go inside to ask. As we got to the front door of the beauty salon, Marge Gentry nearly knocked us over as she walked out.
    “Hi, Marge. How are you?” I asked. Things had been dicey between us since I’d treated her like a murder suspect, and though she claimed that she’d forgiven me, I wasn’t sure that was entirely true.
    “Suzanne. Grace,” she replied curtly as she tried to brush past us.
    “How have you been?” I asked, refusing to move so that she’d have to talk to me.
    “Fine,” she replied.
    How was I going to be able to stop her long enough to see if she’d just called her husband? I was still struggling for an answer when Grace said, “Your hair looks lovely today. Achieving that splendid look must take forever in a chair. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth looking so glamorous, don’t you?”
    I didn’t know how she could compare Marge to herself, and even more perplexing, Marge seemed to accept it at face value. “We do a great deal to look presentable, don’t we?” As she said it, she shifted her glance to me. Hey, I was just a donut maker. There was no real reason to get glamorous, especially when Jake was away working a case. It was not the time to defend my style choices, though.
    Grace asked, “Does Burt ever get impatient waiting for such perfection?”
    I bit my tongue to keep from barking out a laugh, but Marge just smiled. “As a matter of fact, he called the parlor twice today wondering when I’d be finished. I keep telling him that looking