Touch & Go

Chapter 15

 

 

IN TESSA’S EXPERIENCE, if you wanted to know what was really going on in a woman’s life, you had to track down her prime confidant. And in at least 80 percent of the cases, that included the woman’s hairdresser. A single check of Libby Denbe’s favorites list from her phone had revealed the Farias & Rocha salon in Beacon Hill. Tessa had showed up in person, flashing her credentials. Which had earned her an introduction with James Farias, one of the single most beautiful-looking men she’d ever encountered. Frosted blond hair, strong jaw covered in artful stubble, piercing blue eyes and the kind of sculpted shoulders and arms rarely seen outside Hollywood.

 

Unfortunately for her, she had a feeling she was packing the wrong equipment to garner James’s attention. Yet another reason Sophie would remain an only child.

 

Also, James had taken one look at her and exclaimed that the real crime she should be investigating was the one that had been committed against her hair. Didn’t she realize that shade of brown—her real color, sadly—was too dull, totally washing out her complexion? Not to mention pulling her long hair back into a single hair clip was much too severe for her face. She needed softness, she needed warmth, she needed an immediate hair intervention. That was it, she must return for his next available appointment. Which turned out to be in six months.

 

Tessa dutifully made the appointment. In return, Farias agreed to answer her questions regarding Libby Denbe.

 

“The husband did it,” he declared now, leading her to a back room marked Experts Only. She took that to be a euphemism for Employees Only. “Trust me, honey. Justin will appear out of nowhere, sweet little Ashlyn will be found. But Libby will never be seen again. Don’t you read the papers? That’s always how these things work. Mango-pomegranate tea?”

 

“Um, no, thank you.”

 

“Wouldn’t hurt, you know. Rich in antioxidants for the investigator on the go.”

 

It seemed important to him, so she finally agreed. Maybe having been denied access to her under-tended hair, the man needed to at least provide vitamins and minerals.

 

“Did Libby love her husband?” Tessa asked, taking a seat at a black lacquer table while Farias fished out two bags from a beautifully decorated container.

 

“He wasn’t worth it,” James declared.

 

“How so?”

 

“Wasn’t even home most of the time. His job, his crew, his buildings. Puuullleeeze. Everyone was allowed to need him except Libby. She just had to maintain the perfect home, raise the perfect child and greet him each Friday night with a smile. I told her at the beginning she gave too much. And trust me, honey, men don’t appreciate what women give willingly. A thousand years of evolution later, it’s still about the chase.” James paused in the act of reaching for a row of mugs. “You know how many Libbys I see in a salon like this? Beautiful, talented women, each and every one. And they do everything their rich, self-centered hubbies ask of them, right up to the moment the rich, self-centered hubbies kick them to the curb in favor of the younger, fresher model. It’s like driving by an auto accident. No matter how many of them you see, you still think it’ll only happen to someone else.”

 

“Justin had a younger, fresher model?”

 

“Yep. Went on for months before Libby found out. She was blindsided by the discovery. Simply blindsided. File for divorce first, I advised her. Hire the power lawyer and go after him, big legal guns blazing. But no. They had a daughter, they had a marriage, they had a life. I’m telling you now, he didn’t stop seeing the bimbo just because his wife found out. I mean, maybe he told her he did, but a leopard never changes his spots.”

 

“Who was it?” Tessa asked, frowning.

 

James returned to the table with two mugs of fragrant tea. He set them down, then jabbed her in the forehead with his index finger. “Stop it. Didn’t your mother ever tell you your face will freeze like that? You don’t need to be developing any frown lines. Your face is stern enough as it is.”

 

“Well, I am an investigator.”

 

“That may gain you a suspect, honey, but it’ll never help you find your man.”

 

“So true. So did Libby know the bimbo?”

 

“Travel agent. His. Justin’s on the road all the time. Guess his firm uses a travel agency with offices in the same building to handle all their arrangements. Pretty soon, it became a full-service relationship.”

 

“Did Libby know the woman?”

 

“Please, girl is more like it.” James took a seat, leaning close. “Libby went in one afternoon. Wasn’t going to talk to her, wasn’t going to approach. Just wanted to size up the competition, you know. According to her, she walked through the doors of the agency, took one look and walked right back out. Said the girl couldn’t have been a day over twenty-one. Just some starry-eyed kid who no doubt hung on every word Justin ever said before catching up with her friends at a concert.”

 

“Name?”

 

“Kate. Christy. Katie. Something like that. Libby couldn’t take her seriously. If anything, she seemed to feel bad for her, just some young girl getting involved with a married man. In her mind, Justin had taken advantage.”

 

“Generous of her,” Tessa remarked.

 

“Oh, she’s that kind of woman. Not a catty bone in her body, which is more than I can say for most of the felines around here.”

 

“How long have you known Libby?”

 

“Oh, honey, I never give out that information. Next thing I know, you’ll guess my age.”

 

“Okay. A longtime client?”

 

“Certainly. Woman needed help in the beginning, too. She grew up in the projects. A regular Little Orphan Annie with a hard-knock life. I understand no one thinks of Back Bay as being the mean streets of Boston, but trust me, love, they’re tough in their own way.”

 

“Didn’t exactly fit in?”

 

“Her husband’s in construction. Wears work boots. Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, but a hundred-million-dollar company…”

 

“And once word got out, trust me, attitudes softened. Plus, Libby herself is a fabulous artist.”

 

“Jewelry?”

 

“Exactly. The ladies who lunch liked that. Maybe Libby’s upbringing wasn’t Back Bay, but her fine-arts education was a step in the right direction. Not to mention her home is gorgeous. Have you seen it? I’ve been over several times, and with the exception of that chandelier in the foyer, there isn’t a single thing I would change.”

 

“Did Libby like the ladies who lunch?” Tessa asked. “Have a circle of close friends?”

 

For the first time, Farias hesitated. He covered the pause by taking a sip of his tea. “Libby… Libby is a kind soul. I’ve never heard her say a bad word about anyone. She doesn’t hold to social circles the way some do—she would have these dinner parties from time to time that would include, say, myself and her neighbors, but also Justin’s construction crew.” James shivered. “Delicious bunch of men, positively divine, each and every one of them, even if they did make me fear for my life.”

 

“Libby got along? Liked everyone, was liked by everyone?”

 

“Libby is genuine.” James stopped, repeated the word, seemed pleased with the description. “Not much of that going around here these days. And up until a few months ago, I would’ve also said she was happy. Justin’s job didn’t bother her, his absence didn’t bother her. She loved her daughter, had her jewelry. She went out when Justin was away. I know she’d talk about going to the movies with some ladies, various lunch dates, but…” He paused again, hands wrapping around his mug. “Libby was a bit of an island. I don’t know any other way of saying it. Neighbors, organizations, the local pecking order, I never got the impression she cared about any of that or for any of them. Her world was Justin and Ashlyn. As long as they were happy, she was happy. And that worked for them.”

 

“Until Justin took up a side project. She must have been devastated.”

 

“Oh, Libby doesn’t do devastated. She does withdrawn. Last few times I saw her…” James sighed heavily. “Trust me, honey, there’s no haircut in the world that can compensate for a shattered heart. She claimed she and Justin were trying to work things out. She claimed she hadn’t given up. But let me tell you, that’s not what her hair and skin were saying about things. Woman was a wreck. And that’s no way to win your cheating husband back.”

 

“Rumor is, Friday night was date night.”

 

James merely sniffed. “Really, like going back in time is any way to move forward. A couple like that…you have trust issues, you have insecurity, you have a family business that routinely destroys any hope of true family time. What kind of dinner date can fix all that?”

 

“Well, when you put it that way,” Tessa murmured. Her tea had finally cooled to the point where she could take a sip. It was fruity; she liked it.

 

“What do you think?” Farias asked.

 

“I can already feel the antioxidants rushing in,” she assured him.

 

“Hmm, I’d recommend at least two to three cups a day. And no more frowning. Otherwise, in another year or two, it’s Botox for sure.”

 

“Good to know. So, tell me about Ashlyn.”

 

“Beautiful girl,” he provided immediately. “Definitely her mother’s daughter.”

 

“Did you do her hair?”

 

“Absolutely. Very fine, very silky. Yours is coarse. It doesn’t sound appealing, but trust me, coarse hair is easier to work with. Your hair, I can fix.” He gazed at her pointedly. “Ashlyn’s hair we worked to keep as smooth and well-maintained as possible.”

 

“What’s she like? Quiet, outgoing, athletic, artistic, what?”

 

“Quiet. Artistic. Gorgeous smile. Like Mona Lisa. You had to work to get it, and even then, the expression was so fleeting you wondered if you didn’t just imagine it. Sweet child. She’d done some school plays, had an interest in her mother’s jewelry, that kind of thing. She liked to ask me questions about cutting hair, running a salon. Always polite, but curious. I think hair and fashion interested her, but her own style was more…eclectic. Not an in-your-face rebellious child, or a spoiled girl, but then, she was only fifteen. Give her time.”

 

“Did she know there was trouble in paradise?”

 

James paused, seemed to consider the issue. “How much they told her, I don’t know. But Ashlyn’s sensitive. There was no way she could be living in that household with her mother looking the way Libby looked and still believe her parents were doing fine.”

 

“Was Libby protective of her?”

 

“Ab-so-lute-ly! Libby grew up without a father. Yet another reason to keep her fickle, rutting husband around. Heaven forbid her own child should suffer the same.”

 

“Heard Justin was grooming Ashlyn for the family business.”

 

“Oh yes. Gave the girl pink power tools for her fifteenth birthday. What teenager wouldn’t be impressed?”

 

Tessa contemplated James’s tight-lipped expression. The man’s words had radiated sarcasm, his face clear disapproval. “Ashlyn didn’t like the tools? Or Libby didn’t approve?”

 

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably neither one. Just sounded silly to me. I mean, couldn’t the man be a little more subtle? Just because he doesn’t have a son is no reason to stick a penis on his daughter.”

 

It occurred to Tessa that her witness might have his own daddy issues. For example, a father who’d wanted other things for his son’s life than hair care brilliance.

 

“Did you cut Justin’s hair?”

 

“No. Barber shop. Definitely. Or maybe, he and his crew sit around and buzz each other with clippers, right after picking each other over for nits. That’s possible as well.”

 

“When was the last time you saw Libby or Ashlyn?”

 

“Three weeks ago. They came in together. Ladies day.”

 

“How’d they seem?”

 

“Usual. Libby was pale, still looked to me like she wasn’t sleeping well at night. I advised more fish oil in her diet; her hair seemed very brittle. But she kept a brave face on, shared some laughs with her daughter. To most people, I’m sure they looked like they were having a very nice time. You had to know them better to read the signs.”

 

“Such as?”

 

“The circles under Libby’s eyes. And Ashlyn was glued to her iPod. She kept putting in her earbuds, Libby kept pulling them back out. Talk, she would say. Share. That’s what this day is supposed to be about. I’d never seen Ashlyn quite like that, so…purposefully withdrawn from a situation.”

 

“Libby disclose anything more about her marriage?”

 

“No, but of course, she had her daughter sitting right there. They had some shopping bags, though, including Victoria’s Secret. Nothing says wife of a cheating husband quite like new lingerie.” Abruptly, Farias reached across the table, fingering her hair where it was gathered at the nape of her neck. “You know, I could at least tend to the ends.”

 

“Sorry.” She set down her mug. “Calendar’s a little full today, finding a missing family and all. But I’ll come back.” She made a move to stand.

 

Farias regarded her steadily. “No, you won’t.”

 

“Yes, I will. May twentieth, two thirty. I have the little reminder card and everything.”

 

“No, you won’t. You’ll work too hard, micromanage your child, obsess over your career. Then one day, you’ll wonder why you are not the beautiful, proud woman you remembered yourself to be.” His voice softened. “A good haircut is not about the hair, darling. It’s about the woman beneath. Shortchange her now, and you can’t really blame others for doing so later.”

 

Tessa had to smile. Because she would’ve thrown away the reminder card and blown off the appointment. Not immediately, but within a week or two or three, when, yes, Sophie needed her for something, or a new assignment was heating up…

 

She started to understand why Libby came here, and brought her own daughter. In his own way, James Farias ran a side business in nurturing lost souls.

 

“I’ll return,” she promised.

 

Farias merely hmmphed.

 

“Find my Libby,” he said abruptly. “Whatever happened, wherever they’ve gone… She’s a good person. And there aren’t nearly enough of them left these days.”

 

“The dinner parties,” Tessa asked. “Who else were among the attendants?”

 

James sighed, then wrote up a list.

 

Tessa took it with her. Four P.M. Nearly sundown this late in November. Temperature definitely dropping. As she walked down the street toward her car, she hunched her shoulders reflexively against the chill.

 

She thought about the Denbes. Couldn’t help but wonder where they were, how they were faring, as day transitioned to another bitterly cold night. Did they have food, shelter, adequate clothes and blankets for warmth? She supposed it depended on how much incentive their captors had to keep them safe and sound.

 

Personal or professional, that’s what this case would boil down to in the end.

 

Had the Denbes’ abduction been motivated by vengeance? Maybe a business rival who’d felt personally slighted when Denbe Construction had been awarded a significant building contract? Or perhaps related to Justin’s affair. The jilted ex-lover, having lost her man to his family, striking back? Or, the most sinister and interesting theory, that Justin had staged the abduction of his whole family as an elaborate ruse to disguise the murder of his estranged wife. Because given the threat divorce would pose to his personal wealth, not to mention the family business, Justin would clearly be the prime suspect if anything happened to Libby. Unless, of course, the whole family was attacked, and he and his daughter miraculously happened to be the sole survivors…

 

Except, why now? Six months later, when the Denbes seemed to have survived the immediate aftermath of Justin’s betrayal? Libby was definitely trying to save her marriage, according to her hair stylist. Maybe not succeeding yet, given her fragile emotional state, but still trying.

 

Tessa shook her head. For the Denbes’ sake, she hoped this was a professionally motivated crime. Because a team of kidnappers looking for a ransom payout had incentive to keep the Denbes as comfortable as possible. Whereas the people the Denbes thought they knew and held most dear…

 

Tessa couldn’t help herself: She flashed back two years ago, to her kitchen, the look on her husband’s face. The shock of the exploding Sig Sauer. The feel of the white, white snow against her frozen fingertips. Her daughter’s empty bedroom.

 

It wasn’t that strangers couldn’t hurt you. It was simply that the people you loved could do it so much better.

 

Just ask Libby Denbe.