Chicken Soup & Homicide - Culinary Competition Mystery #2

Chapter 23

(Amy)

Elegance Salon always made Amy feel better. Her former coworkers welcomed her with smiles and hugs. Just what she needed when she was feeling run over by the garbage truck of life. The massage and facial she'd scheduled would help too. She pulled open the front door of the salon and gave her customary greeting, a series of squeaky sneezes. The custom-scented lily of the valley shampoo didn't agree with Amy's allergies. The sneezing fit caught the attention of the salon's owner, Thalia. She poked her head around the wall that separated the cutting stations from the reception desk.

"Amy! How are you doing, sweetheart?" Thalia asked as she rushed at Amy and locked her in a breathtaking bear hug.

"I'm okay." Amy wriggled free from the hug and began unbuttoning her coat. "But I'll be better after I spend the next few hours here."

Thalia's newest hair-color experiment was stunning. The tips of her shoulder-length hair were dark purple, which darkened to black on the top of her head. She tucked a strand of the ombrè-tinted hair behind her ear and narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe you're okay. How could you be after finding another body?"

Her former boss hit that nail on the head. She wasn't okay. And the problems went way beyond almost getting tackled by a dead man falling out of a freezer. But she'd only arrived ten minutes early for her massage appointment. There wasn't time to whine about her messed-up life. An abbreviated version would have to do. "Finding Chet's body sucked. Hopefully, life will get back to normal soon."

"You're a stronger woman than I," Thalia said. A woman with penciled-in eyebrows and a head full of highlight foils peaked around the wall beside Thalia's cutting station. She glanced at the client, then leaned closer and whispered, "Sorry to cut our visit short, but my client has an important lunch date."

After Thalia went back to work, Amy made a circuit around the salon, visiting with her old friends. Then she left them to their work and took a seat in the waiting area. Everything about the salon was plush, from the gilt-framed mirrors to the squishy black chairs in the waiting area. She picked up the latest issue of Glamour magazine and flipped through the pages.

She glanced up when another woman sat down across from her. It was Mariah. The pastry chef at Cornerstone restaurant, who Sophie was trying to convince to work at the café. Amy had come to the salon to get some relaxing pampering and life had given her another opportunity to nose around about the murder.

"Hello," Amy said as she wiggled her fingers in a greeting. "You're Mariah, right?"

"Hi, I met you at Sophie's place, didn't I?"

"Yes. I'm Amy, Sophie's recipe consultant." Amy set the magazine down. Her massage was scheduled to begin in a few minutes. There was no time to waste with polite chitchat. "My husband and I had dinner at Cornerstone a few days ago. It definitely seemed like the employees were happier than the last time we were there."

"No kidding. We all expect to pay our dues when we sign on at high-end restaurants, lots of pressure and expectations. Working under Britton was like being sentenced to the chain gang. The man's ego far surpassed his skills. He couldn't cook or run a business."

That wasn't news. Britton was oblivious to how badly he treated people, or maybe he just didn't care what people thought about him. "You know, I overheard someone on the staff mention that Chef Michael was scoring over and over. Do you have any idea what that means?"

Mariah laughed so hard she drew the attention of several of the stylists working on the floor behind her. The bright sunshine streaming through the window highlighted cobalt-blue streaks in her black hair. "Oh, probably that he got promoted to the head chef position and became Mrs. Mahoney's new cuddle bunny. She's already given him a Rolex, and on Sunday night he got a new Corvette from her for his efforts."