'Nope,' Morelli said. 'A-one condition. At first glance doesn't look like anything was stolen. No vandalism. No sign of struggle.'
'Was it locked?'
'Yep. My guess is it was left there sometime early this morning. Any sooner than that and it would have been stripped clean.'
'Anything happen here last night?'
'Nothing. Very quiet. What are you up to today?'
I picked at my hair. 'Beauty parlor.'
A grin tugged at the corners of Morelli's mouth. 'Going to ruin my handiwork?'
'You didn't take any more hair off than you absolutely had to, right?'
'Right,' Morelli said, the grin still in place.
Usually, I got my hair done by Mr. Alexander at the mall. Unfortunately, Mr. Alexander couldn't work me into his busy schedule today, so I opted for Grandma's salon, the Clip and Curl on Hamilton. I had a nine-thirty appointment. Not that it mattered. My gossip rating was so high I could walk into Clip and Curl any time of the day or night, no waiting necessary.
We left through the front door, and I noticed the van parked across the street.
'Grossman,' Morelli said.
'He have a Duc in that van?'
'No. He's got a two-way radio, a crossword puzzle book, and a jelly jar.'
I had my eye on the Porsche and the butter-soft leather seats. And I knew I'd look very cool in the Porsche.
'Forget it,' Morelli said. 'Take the Buick. If you get into trouble the Buick is built like a tank.'
'I'm going to the beauty parlor,' I said. 'I'm not going to get into trouble.'
'Cupcake, your middle name is trouble.'
Sally was standing between the Porsche and the Buick. 'So, like, what's it gonna be?' he asked.
'The Porsche,' I said. 'Definitely the Porsche.'
Sally buckled himself in. 'This car does zero to a hundred in a fucking second.' He cranked the engine over and catapulted us off the curb.
'Yow!' I said. 'This is a family neighborhood. Slow down!'
Sally looked at me from behind reflector shades. 'I like speed, man. Speed is good.'
I had my hands braced on the dashboard. 'Stop street!
'Stops on a dime,' Sally said, stomping on the brake.
I jerked against the shoulder harness. 'Ulk.'
Sally lay an affectionate hand on the steering wheel. 'This car is like a total engineering experience.'
'Are you on drugs?'
'No way. Not this early in the day,' Sally said. 'What do I look like, a bum?'
He turned onto Hamilton and lead-footed it to Clip and Curl. He parked and looked at the shop over the tops of his glasses. 'Retro.'
Dolly had converted the downstairs part of her two-story house into a beauty parlor. I'd come here as a little girl to get my bangs cut, and nothing had changed since then. If it was midday or Saturday, the place would be packed. Since it was early morning only two women were under dryers. Myrna Olsen and Doris Zayle.
'Ommigod,' Myrna said, shouting over the noise of the dryer. 'I just heard the news about you marrying Joseph Morelli. Congratulations.'
'I always knew you two would get married,' Doris said, pushing the dryer off her head. 'You were made for each other.'
'Hey, I didn't know you dudes were married,' Sally said. 'Way to go.'
Everyone gaped at Sally. Men didn't come into the Clip and Curl. And Sally pretty much looked like a man today . . . with the possible exceptions of his lip gloss and two-inch dangly rhinestone earrings.
'This is Sally,' I told them.
'Chill,' Sally said, giving them a rapper fist kind of greeting. 'Thought maybe I'd get a manicure. My nails are like trashed.'
They looked confused.
'Sally's a drag queen,' I said.
'Isn't that something,' Myrna said. 'Imagine.'
Doris leaned forward. 'Do you wear dresses?'
'Mostly skirts,' Sally said. 'I'm too long-waisted for dresses. I don't think they're flattering. Of course, I have a couple gowns. Gowns are different.
