Free Killer Cuts: A Dead-End Job Mystery by Elaine Viets

said.”The lip gloss tastes like raspberries.”
    Miguel Angel removed one of his huge blow-dryers from its holster and dried Cecilia’s hair, pulling on it until it was longer and straighter. Older women’s hair tends to get thin and frizzy, but Miguel knew how to give them the thick, glossy hair of their youth.
    “How do you do that?” Helen said.”My wrists would hurt.”
    “Practice,” Miguel Angel said.”You need strong hands for this job.”
    Cecilia’s hair color was a rich brown, and thanks to Miguel’s sham poo and styling potions, it was shiny. Helen noticed that Cecilia’s hair was thick on the right side, but so thin on the left that her ear showed. Miguel Angel opened a drawer and brought out a fall of brown human hair. He held it against Cecilia’s own hair.
    “Too dark.”
    Miguel Angel rummaged in the drawer for a lighter shade and held it up again.
    “Perfect match,” Cecilia said.
    “Still not right,” Miguel Angel said, though the hair looked okay to Helen.
    He pulled out a third fall.”Perfect.”
    He used the combs in the fall to hold it in place, then accepted the hairpins Phoebe handed him. She passed them gingerly, as if Miguel might bite.
    Miguel brushed some of Cecilia’s own hair over the fall, fluffed and sprayed it, then said,”There.What do you think?”
    “I look ten years younger.” Cecilia smiled for the first time since she’d entered the salon.
    Helen handed Cecilia her blouse on a hanger, and she changed in the dressing room. Ana Luisa gave Cecilia the bill. Helen noticed that Miguel Angel had given her a price break on the makeup lesson and the fall. Cecilia tipped him fifty dollars.
    Cecilia left the salon, wearing her black blouse and jeans. Her limp disappeared. Her walk was a confident strut, and she turned heads up and down Las Olas.
    “Bravo,” Helen said.”But you shaved some money off her bill.”
    “She really can’t afford to come here, but she is a nice person,” Miguel Angel said.”I cried when I thought she was going to die.”
    “You old softie,” Helen said.There it was again: Despite the salon’s hard, chic exterior, Miguel Angel could be unexpectedly kind. He closed his salon case and handed it to Helen to put away.
    “Not everything is about money,” Miguel Angel said. “I can afford to indulge myself sometimes.”
    “So you’re a fairy godmother?” Helen asked.
    “Let’s not talk about sex, please,” he said, and laughed.
    “Is Cecilia’s husband as big a jerk as he sounds?”
    “No. He’s a good man, but he doesn’t understand how he hurts her when he talks about her appearance. Cecilia is getting older, and she’s trying to look good for him, but it’s hard.”
    Helen heard Ana Luisa shout,”Miguel! Quick! The wedding mur der is on the noon news.”
    Helen and Miguel had carefully avoided the subject all day, as if talking about King’s death would make the cops materialize in the salon. Now Helen, Miguel Angel and Phoebe crowded into the back prep area, where there was a tiny television.The story was headlined A King Is Dead.
    Helen saw shots of King’s palace, a clip from the wedding video, and footage of the hospital where he was pronounced dead. There was also an interview with a police spokesman who said King’s death was murder.
    “The autopsy shows that the victim was alive when he went into the water,” the police spokesman said, “and injuries indicate that he struggled to get out of the pool.The victim was a strong individual, but he was in an intoxicated state, which impaired his ability to fight for his life. The victim drowned in his pool.The coroner has ruled Mr. King Oden’s death a homicide.”
    A reporter interviewed a woman identified as Death Wedding Guest. “I saw the groom—the dead King—arguing with a woman in a blue dress by the pool.The woman wore high-heeled sandals and had blond hair.”
    Helen groaned. “Miguel Angel, why did you pick blue? Didn’t the bride have any black