“We’ve been told that she had an accident.”
“Yes,” Lisette said. “She mentioned that at one of the meetings with the principal, about how her back was bad and her surgery had failed, and that being called to school so often was a trial for her. She used to complain about having to get a ride. She didn’t drive, evidently—or she couldn’t, because of her back.”
“Who drove her to school? Do you know?”
Lisette shook her head. “Some guy. I only saw him a couple of times. He never got out of the car. Just dropped her off and picked her up.”
“What kind of car?”
Lisette smiled. “A blue one. That’s all I know, dear. Sorry. It was a very long time ago.”
“That’s okay,” Josie said. “Vera referred to him as her friend, not her boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Lisette said. “I don’t think they were romantically involved. At the meetings, she never talked about anyone besides herself and Beverly. I don’t think there was a male in their lives. She always talked about how she had to ‘get’ a ride, like it was a major inconvenience. She talked a lot about her back issues, but she never said anything about having someone around to help her.”
“Do you think she was as badly injured as she said?”
Lisette thought about it a moment. “She was definitely injured, no question there, but she seemed to get around just fine whenever I saw her. Vera’s problem was with drugs, not pain.”
“What makes you say that?”
Lisette sighed, meeting Josie’s gaze head-on. “Josie, I had had enough experience with a drug addict to know the signs.”
“Right,” Josie said. When Josie was three weeks old, one of the women who cleaned her parents’ house had set the place on fire and kidnapped Josie. Josie’s biological parents hadn’t been home that day. They’d left their babies with a nanny. At first it seemed that only Josie’s twin, Trinity, survived. Everyone in Josie’s biological family believed that Josie had perished in the fire. In reality, her abductor, Lila, had brought her to Denton, and in an attempt to get back together with her old flame, Eli Matson, Lisette’s son, she had passed Josie off as their baby. She’d told Eli that during the year they’d been broken up, she’d given birth to Josie and that Josie was his. Eli raised Josie as his own daughter until his death, which came when Josie was only six years old. Lila had descended into an abyss of drugs and violence after that, finally abandoning Josie to Lisette’s custody when Josie got to high school.
“Do you think that Vera was violent toward Beverly?” Josie asked.
“I don’t know, dear. I doubt it. Vera was frustrated and worn down and seemed mostly concerned with staying home and feeding her habit. You know there was one meeting where we waited and waited for Vera to appear. It was me and the principal. After an hour, Beverly showed up. She said that Vera had taken too many oxycodones and passed out. It was terribly embarrassing for her. That was the first time I had an inkling that Beverly was really struggling at home.”
“Wow,” Josie said. “I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. You were a kid.”
“Did you know Vera before the accident?”
“I met her a few times. She was quite vibrant and lovely. We had a good laugh over you girls. She was less worn down then, although she was having far more serious problems with Beverly’s behavior than I was with yours.”
“In what way?” Josie asked.
“She told me that at home Beverly was very disrespectful, that she was afraid that Beverly hated her. I told her that all young girls go through that phase, but she said it was something more than that.”
“Did she ever mention Beverly’s father?”
“Only to say he wasn’t in the picture and that he hadn’t ever been.”
“Do you remember either Beverly or Vera ever mentioning anyone named Alice?”
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry.”
“Gram, by any chance do you know where Vera worked before her accident? We were told she was a hairdresser.”
“Oh yes, she was,” Lisette replied. “Before the accident, she was always so well dressed and put-together. Someone at her salon did her hair regularly. She always looked wonderful. Then after the accident, she became a different person.”
“Do you remember what salon she worked for?”
Lisette pursed her lips, eyes squinting as she thought about it. “I don’t remember the name. It was a very fancy place. Over on Maygrove Street near the college, between the—oh dear, the businesses have changed after all this time. I think now there’s a Starbucks on one side and a cell phone store on the other side. I believe the salon is still there, but it’s changed hands since Vera worked there. It’s called something completely different now, I’m sure.”
Josie felt a small thrill of excitement. A lead. She couldn’t recall the name of the salon Lisette referred to, but she’d driven past it plenty of times. What was more, if it was near the college, it was definitely not flooded. If it had always been a salon, then there was a chance that someone who still worked there would remember Vera. A slim chance, but she’d take it.
They finished the game and Josie stood to leave, walking around to give Lisette a hug and kiss. As she pulled away from her grandmother, Lisette gripped her and held her close. Into Josie’s ear, she said, “You know how much I love you, right?”
Josie felt Lisette’s curls tickling her cheek. “Of course, Gram. I love you too.”
“You’re mine and I’m yours, Josie. No matter what. Nothing in the world can change that. Don’t ever forget it.”
Josie’s heart skipped a beat and then stuttered back to life. She pulled back and looked into Lisette’s face. “You okay, Gram? Is there something you want to tell me?”
Lisette smiled and put a hand to Josie’s cheek. “I just did.”
Josie held her eyes for a moment longer. Her throat felt dry. “You’re not dying, are you?”
Lisette laughed and relinquished Josie. “No, certainly not. There’s nothing to worry about, dear. Now, I know you have to get back to work. I’ll see you soon.”
Twenty-Two
Lisette’s strange words swam through Josie’s mind on a loop as she drove through Denton, searching for the salon Lisette had mentioned. It was in a strip mall with large glass storefronts. The sign outside read Envy. Josie knew it hadn’t always been called Envy, but she couldn’t remember the name of the salon before it had changed over. She parked in the lot and walked in, immediately assailed by the smell of chemicals. The inside of the salon looked like something out of a magazine. The waiting room was filled with cushioned chairs, small tables covered in magazines, and even a table with complimentary snacks and drinks. Music played softly. Behind the receptionist’s counter was a large room with ten styling chairs on each side and a hair-washing station at the back. Three of the chairs were occupied. Stylists, dressed all in black, flitted about, sweeping, mixing hair dye, and chatting up the clients.
Josie waited at the counter until someone called out, “Be right with you!”