‘Yes,’ Charles said.
The waiter nodded and padded off.
‘Did that bother you?’ she asked.
‘A little.’
‘When he comes back, I’ll kiss you on the mouth.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘You realize there are guys dying in Iraq who can’t order a drink in this state?’
‘It was that way when I was a kid, too. We used to bitch about it all the time. Being in the Army, not allowed to order a drink.’
‘What war was that?’
‘Vietnam.’
‘You were in that war?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That seems so long ago.’
‘To me, too.’
‘Are you from here originally? I don’t mean here, this state, I mean the city,’ and with a jerk of her head indicated its general direction.
‘Yes.’
‘I was born and raised in Denver,’ she said.
‘I’ve always wanted to go out West.’
‘Maybe we can go out there together sometime,’ she said.
‘Well… maybe. Yes.’
‘Wouldn’t you like to?’
‘Here we go,’ the waiter said, and placed their drinks on the table. ‘Did you folks want to hear the specials now, or would you like to enjoy your drinks first?’
‘Give us a few minutes,’ he said.
‘Take your time,’ the waiter said, and went off again.
‘So you were in the Army, huh?’
‘Yes.’
‘See any action?’
‘Yes.’
‘When did you get out?’
‘1970.’
‘I wasn’t even born yet!’
‘Shh, he’ll hear you.’
‘Fuck him,’ she said. ‘I think I will kiss you on the mouth.’
And reached across the table, and cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him openmouthed, her tongue searching.
* * * *
All of Jenny Cho’s salons had the word ‘Blossom’ in their names. Plum Blossom - where the detectives were now headed - Peony Blossom, Pear Blossom, Cherry Blossom, Apricot Blossom, and the eponymous flagship establishment Jenny herself ran, Lotus Blossom. It would have been simpler to call each and every one of these places to ask questions about Alicia Hendricks. But Genero and Parker were still pursuing the ‘drug-related’ angle, and were trying to find out whether her supplier - if indeed such a supplier existed - might be someone she’d met at any of the regular stops on her schedule. Besides, you couldn’t gauge reaction on the telephone; that’s why legwork was invented. That’s why it took so much time to track down a person’s story. In police work, everyone had a story. Was Alicia’s story dope? Getting the story straight was often the answer to solving a crime.
The first thing the manager of Plum Blossom Nails said to Parker was, ‘Pedicue ten dollah ex’ra.’
He was pointing at Parker’s shoes.
The two detectives had barely set foot in the shop, guy tells Parker it’s ten dollars extra. He looked down at his feet.
‘I don’t want a pedicure,’ he said.
‘Manicue same price,’ the manager said. ‘Pedicue ten dollah ex’ra.’
‘I don’t want a manicure, either,’ Parker said. ‘Why is it ten dollars extra for a pedicure?’ He was thinking of busting this little bald-headed gook for price gouging or something.
‘You man,’ the manager said. ‘Big feet.’
‘But you save on nail polish,’ Parker said.
‘Big feet,’ the manager insisted, shaking his head. ‘Ten dollah ex’ra.’
‘That’s sexist,’ Genero said.
‘Exactly,’ Parker said. ‘If this was a man’s barbershop, and you charged a woman ten dollars extra for a pedicure, she’d take a feminist fit. Am I right, ladies?’ he asked, playing to the house now, hoping for a little female support here.
‘Right on, brother,’ one of the women shouted, and thrust her clenched fist at the air. The others kept reading their magazines.
‘I feel like getting a pedicure just for the hell of it,’ Parker said. ‘Make this a test case.’
‘Sure,’ the manager agreed. ‘But ten dollah ex’ra.’
‘You in charge here?’ Genero asked, and showed his shield.
‘Why, wassa motta?’ the manager asked.
‘We’re investigating a murder,’ Parker said, using the word ‘murder’ instead of ‘homicide,’ which they probably didn’t understand in Korea. Scare the shit out of the little gook, he was thinking. Ten dollars extra for a fuckin pedicure! ‘Does the name Alicia Hendricks mean anything to you?’
The manager looked at him blankly.
But he was scared now. Fear in his eyes. Well, sure, a murder investigation.
‘Works for Beauty Plus,’ Genero said.
‘Lustre Nails,’ Parker said.
‘She’d have come here selling nail polish, cuticle remover, nail hardener, all that related stuff. A sales rep.’
‘Ring a bell?’
The manager was shaking his head.
‘We’re trying to work up her story’
‘Find out who might’ve wanted her dead.’
‘Remember her?’
Still shaking his little bald head. Eyes wide in fright. Well, murder.
‘You’re not in any trouble here,’ Genero assured him. ‘This is like a background check.’
‘Alicia Hendricks,’ Parker said.
‘Nobody,’ the manager said, shaking his head. ‘No. On’y Korean girl work here.’
* * * *
In the car on the way to Pear Blossom Nails, Parker asked, ‘Who said she worked there? Did anybody tell him she worked there?’
‘No, we told him she was a sales rep.’
‘And who said she wasn’t Korean?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Did anybody say Alicia Hendricks wasn’t Korean?’
‘Well, no, but the name…”
‘They all take American names. You ask any of the Korean girls in there what their names are, they’ll tell you Mary or Terry or Kelly or Cathy or whatever. So why couldn’t Alicia be Korean?’
‘Well, Hendricks. That don’t sound Korean.’
‘She could be married to an American. Nice Korean girl married to an American, why not? My point is, what made that little bald-headed jerk think she wasn’t Korean? Ten dollars extra, can you imagine that?’
‘You think he knew her, is that it?’
‘I got no idea he knew her or he didn’t know her. Of course he knew her! She goes there all the time to sell her nail polish, she’s a regular like Clairol or Revlon, all at once he never heard of her! Tells us all the girls in there are Korean, when nobody said she wasn’t Korean!’
‘You think he’s hiding something?’
‘He better not be,’ Parker said.
* * * *
Because she couldn’t drive and sign at the same time, Teddy pulled the car into a roadside Starbucks, and talked to her daughter over lattes. This was after April’s Wednesday afternoon ballet lesson; she was sweaty and sticky and wasn’t expecting an ambush.
‘Who told you that?’ she asked at once.
Mark, Teddy signed.
‘I’ll kill him!’
No, you won’t kill anyone. He did the right thing.
They were sitting almost knee to knee on the front seat, mother and daughter, facing each other, look-alikes.
Teddy’s latte was in the cup holder, April’s in her right hand.
Why didn’t you tell me yourself? Teddy asked.
April said nothing.
April?
‘I couldn’t tell anyone, Mom. That was the thing of it. Not you, not even Mark at first. And I can just imagine what Dad’s reaction would’ve been if I casually mentioned that Lorraine Pierce had shoplifted a five-dollar bottle of red Revlon Crayon polish #34 from the local drugstore! Mr. Morality himself? Break out the handcuffs!’