“That’s not funny.” Karen playfully slapped me on the knee.
“Bryce mentioned he did the same thing with you,” Crystal said. I turned to look at her and found it was me she was referring to.
“No, he didn’t.”
Jenny took a step back.
“You sure about that?” Karen said with a laugh.
“Of course.” I sat up taller and pulled back my shoulders.
“Ever sign something he put in front of you without reading it?” Keisha raised an eyebrow.
I thought back to our marriage. I liked signing my name, Mrs. Shannon Madison. I signed anything and everything I could. It made me feel powerful. I even had a gold-plated pen specifically for signing my name on packages, receipts at designer stores—and yeah, anything Bryce put in front of me.
“Fuck,” I said.
Karen and Keisha laughed. Jenny patted my shoulder. Crystal averted her eyes from me and returned to taking small sips of her sparkling water.
“At least he didn’t have you sign a postnup,” Karen offered.
“What a slimy bastard.” I shook my head.
If he really had me sign something like that without telling me, what else did I sign? He always thought he knew best. That arrogant prick. Where did he get off increasing my life insurance coverage? Was he hoping I’d die while he was off banging Little Miss Barnyard? At least I didn’t have to worry about it now that we were divorced. No one would profit from my death.
45
Jenny
present
I toss the pizza crust into the box and take a swig of Coca-Cola to wash it down. Detective Sanford devours his piece of pizza, crust and all. He wipes his hands on his pants and picks up his pen again.
“So, the husbands convinced all the wives to increase their life insurance policies?” he asks.
“Yes.” I nod my head and wipe my hands with a napkin.
He scribbles some more words down on his notebook, then drops his pen, and reaches for another piece of pizza. The cheese oozes off the end of it, but he’s careful to grab it all and plop it back on his slice. He folds the pizza in half the long way and takes a large bite, smacking his lips together and chewing it vigorously. He eats pizza like he investigates a crime, thoroughly and with care not to leave anything behind.
In between bites he asks, “And you didn’t find that odd?”
I lean forward in my chair, placing my elbows on the table. “I found everything about Buckhead odd.”
Detective Sanford nods and continues to eat his pizza as he turns things over in his mind. Buckhead was like a Rubik’s Cube—few figured it out, few understood it. I knew what I knew because I was a silent observer—through the text messages they sent, the phone calls they took, and the emails they drafted, I saw everything. All while they sat in my salon chair. Not only that, but the pauses between their words, looks exchanged with one another, and their body language told me everything else.
“Why did you come to Buckhead in the first place?” he asks. I’m not sure if he’s just filling in the lulls in our conversation or he’s generally curious; or perhaps he thinks I had something to do with all of this.
“Just needed a change in scenery,” I say. “I always liked the South. I was born in the Midwest. Couldn’t stand the cold weather any longer. When I decided I was going to open up my own salon, I knew it’d be somewhere south.”
“Where in the Midwest?”
“Wisconsin.”
“Brrrrr. I feel cold just hearing the word Wisconsin.” He laughs.
I gave a small smile.
“And what do you do when you’re not working?” Detective Sanford finishes up his slice of pizza.
“Not much. I’m typically always working.”
“Glow is your whole life?” He leans back in his chair, and his eyes bounce all over me as if he’s trying to figure me out. Trying to put me together like a puzzle.
“It’s a big part of it.” I lean back in my chair, matching his demeanor.
“It must have been rather aggravating to have these women stirring up drama and bickering over everything. Then to have their husbands physically fighting in your salon, the place you worked so hard to make successful.” He raises an eyebrow.
“I knew it came with the territory, so it didn’t bother me. I found it more annoying than anything that these grown men and women couldn’t act like adults.” The corners of my lips perk up.
“Right . . .” he says.
“These women paid well. They tipped well. They made me very comfortable, financially. So, as long as they weren’t killing each other in my salon, I didn’t care what they did.” I grab another slice of pizza and plop it on my paper plate.
“Well, lucky for you the murder didn’t happen at Glow then.” Detective Sanford raises his brows.
“You know what I mean.” I fold my arms in front of my chest.
He lets on a smirk.
“We’ve determined the murder weapon was a Glock 19. Do you know anyone that would have access to that?” he asks.
“Any one of them could have had access. Guns are easy to come by in this country, especially in Georgia,” I say, twisting up my lips.
Detective Sanford nods and grabs another slice of pizza.
46
Jenny
I refilled the spray tan machine and set out a pile of folded, freshly cleaned towels. Exiting the room, I returned to the main salon area. Shannon had left a few minutes before, and Crystal was gathering her things, while Karen and Keisha sat on the couches socializing.
“Spray tan room is all set to go. It shouldn’t malfunction again,” I said to Keisha. She nodded and thanked me.
“Thanks so much for fitting me in today,” Crystal said as she admired her fresh hairstyle in the mirror. Like Shannon, she had also come in for a deep conditioning treatment.
“Not a problem.”
She gave me a hug and said goodbye to Keisha and Karen, disappearing behind the black curtains. Keisha and Karen stood from their seats.
“I’m going to catch up on some cleaning and take a nap. Are you okay to cover the salon for a couple hours?” I asked Keisha.
She waved her hand at me. “Take all the time you need. You look exhausted.”
“Are you sure?” I cocked my head at her.
“I’m positive. Besides, if I need you, I’ll just bang on the ceiling with a broom.” Keisha laughed.
I smiled and said goodbye to both of them and walked through to the back of the salon. I had had four additional locks installed on the back door—a chain lock and three dead bolts. I slid the chain over, and after three clicks from the bolts, the door was open. I could never be too safe now. Out in the alley, I climbed a flight of stairs and unlocked the door to my apartment. There were three dead bolts there too. No one had ever seen my apartment, except Keisha. I was rarely up here myself—just to sleep, basically. My whole life was the salon.