Calla Lilies and Crime First Chapter

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Chapter 1

“How does that look, Mrs. Thompson?” I asked, standing behind the woman seated in my chair. I’d been a hairdresser since my early twenties and loved my profession. I didn’t consider myself creative in the traditional sense, but when it came to hair, finding the best cut for someone’s face or the right color for their skin tone, I knew I had a talent. I enjoyed helping people feel like the most beautiful version of themselves.

“You do amazing work, Katy,” Mrs. Thompson said. “I wasn’t sure I’d like going this short, but I should have known, if you thought it would look good, then it would. I also like how you went a little lighter with the color.”

“I think it’s perfect for summer. Both the cut and the color. When fall comes, we can let it grow a little longer and take the color a bit darker.”

“Whatever you think, dear.”

“Go ahead up to the front and Jasmine will take care of you,” I said. Mrs. Thompson left for the front, while I cleaned my station and waited for my next appointment. Later, Jasmine, still in beauty school and working at the front desk and as the shampoo girl, walked back to my station. It wasn’t unusual for Jasmine to come talk to me for any number of reasons, but I hoped it wasn’t because a client was dissatisfied. I hated the thought of an unhappy customer. That wasn’t good in my business.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“Everything’s fine. But you got a phone call while you were doing Mrs. Thompson’s hair, so I wanted to give you the message.”

I took the slip of paper Jasmine handed me and was surprised to see the name Ellen Whitlock. Ellen was the mother of someone who used to work for me. Darlene had worked at the salon for quite a while, and a while back she left for a short trip and never came back. Ellen had called me the day she first realized something was wrong, and I’d been checking in when I could, but always felt bad. Each conversation seemed to hurt Ellen more than the last, and I hated that I never had good news to give her, so I had been calling less and less.

I checked my watch and glanced at my schedule. I had a small break so I headed to the break room for some privacy and dialed Ellen’s number. She answered almost immediately, as if she had been waiting by the phone.

“Katy, thank you for calling,” Ellen said.

“Of course. Is there news about Darlene?” I asked, nervous to hear the answer.

“Yes. When do you finish work?”

“I will be done in about two hours. Is Darlene okay?”

“Can you come to my house after work?”

“Sure,” I replied.

“I’ll fill you in when you get here. Just hurry.” I could hear tension in her voice.

“Has Darlene been found?” I pressed, not wanting to wait for the news.

“No, not yet. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said, then hung up. I returned to the front, where my next customer, Sarah, waited. I was so distracted I had to ask Sarah to repeat herself three times before I finally refocused. I managed to give my full attention to each client for the rest of the day. When my last appointment was finished, I headed to Ellen Whitlock’s home, letting my mind run through every possible scenario.

Finally arriving at the house, I walked up the steps just as the door opened. Ellen must have been waiting for me.

“Come in,” Ellen said, shutting the door. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m fine. Please, tell me about Darlene. Has she been found?”

Ellen’s eyes filled with tears. “Not yet. But I received this last night,” she said, picking up a plain white envelope from the coffee table. We sat together on the couch as I took it from her.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of paper. On it, a few lines were written.

If you want to see your daughter alive again, be prepared to leave $50,000 in unmarked bills and all savings bonds. Further instructions to follow.

“You got this last night?” I asked.

“Yes. I know what you’re going to say, that the odds someone has been holding her for ransom all this time are slim, that kidnappers usually demand money right away. But…”

I cut her off gently, “So, have you actually heard from Darlene?”

“I got a call last night, too,” Ellen said.

“From Darlene?”

“I’m not sure. I think it was her. Before you ask how I wouldn’t know my own daughter’s voice, there was a lot of noise in the background and it was very static-y. I know it was a female voice, and I’m almost certain it was Darlene.”

I said nothing. The statistics for missing persons after the first 48 hours weren’t hopeful, and I knew Ellen understood that. There was no need to state the obvious.

“Did she say anything that let you know it was really her?” I asked.

“No,” Ellen admitted, twisting her hands together. “I just know in my bones it was her.”

My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was to encourage false hope, but Ellen seemed sincere and desperate.

“Even if I can’t be 100% sure,” Ellen said quietly, “I just feel it.”

“Did you take this to the police?”

“Of course. They told me they can’t be sure it was her, and chances are, it isn’t. But if the caller reaches out again, they want me to try to keep her on the line longer, ask her some questions only Darlene would know.”

“It sounds like the police are doing what they can,” I said.

“They are. Honestly, though, they keep reminding me the odds of Darlene being alive are very slim.”

I agreed, but saying so out loud would be cruel, so of course I didn’t.

“Ellen, I’m not sure how I can help. Did you just call me over to tell me this or is there something I can do for you? ”

“You’re the only person I could think of to call. Darlene’s gone, her father’s dead, her grandparents are gone, and I have no siblings. I just needed to talk to someone. But,” Ellen hesitated, “I also want you to help me find my daughter. This is a sign she’s alive. Will you help me?”

I couldn’t say no and now I knew how Presley felt. My fiancé, Willie, would not be thrilled about my involvement, but I’d deal with that later.