A few minutes later, a door to the right of the reception area opened and a woman in her sixties walked in. She seemed to float in her long black cotton dress, her smile wide and welcoming. Dangling gold earrings clashed against her short silver hair, cut in a chic pixie style.
“What’s your name?” she asked Josie, moving over to the reception desk and clicking away on the computer.
“Oh, I’m not here for an appointment,” Josie said. She introduced herself and gave the woman her credentials.
She smiled as she handed them back. “What can I do for you, Detective Quinn?”
“I was wondering if you or anyone else employed here worked here before this place was called Envy?”
The woman nodded and placed a well-manicured hand on her chest. “I’m the owner. I was the owner back when it was called ‘Bliss’. Actually, I was a co-owner of Bliss. I bought my partner out about ten years ago and rebranded. I’m Sara Venuto, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you,” Josie said. “I’m here to find out anything you could tell me about a former employee. Vera Urban.”
Sara’s smile faltered as she thought about it. “Vera Urban…”
Josie took out her phone and pulled up the driver’s license photo of Vera they had found. She showed it to Sara.
“Oh my goodness, yes!” Sara exclaimed. “Vera. We called her V. Wow. I haven’t thought about her in ages. Is she—” She broke off, the lines of her face deepening, sadness turning the corners of her mouth downward. Her voice lowered. “If you’re here asking about her, I assume it’s not good news.”
Josie pocketed her phone. “I’m afraid it’s not. You may have seen the news about the body found recently on Hempstead.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t. I haven’t been watching the news much lately. It’s been very sad to watch our little city decimated by the flooding. There’s only so much coverage I can take before I feel like I’ll have a nervous breakdown.”
“I understand,” Josie said. “The house where Vera used to live with her daughter washed away yesterday. Under the foundation we found Beverly’s body.”
Sara gasped and braced herself against the desk, finally drawing the attention of the room behind her. “My God,” she said. Glancing behind her, she gave the stylists a wave, and they carried on with their work. She turned back to Josie. “Why don’t we go into my office?”
She led Josie through the door she’d emerged from into a small office painted in gray tones with a simple desk and some filing cabinets. A guest chair sat before the desk and Sara motioned Josie to sit. Then she dragged her own chair around so there was no barrier between the two of them. Her face was still distraught as she sat down, hugged her middle, and leaned in toward Josie. “Please,” she said. “Tell me.”
“Beverly Urban was murdered. We haven’t been able to locate Vera.”
“I would love to help you, Detective, but Vera hasn’t worked here in almost twenty years, maybe longer,” Sara explained.
“I realize that,” Josie said. “The thing is, Vera has disappeared. In fact, we believe she disappeared many years ago. What we’re trying to do now is piece her life together and find people who knew her, who could tell us anything about her life before she went missing. Anything we find out might help us locate her or move the investigation into Beverly’s murder forward.”
“Oh, wow, that’s really strange and terrible. Do you think—do you think she’s dead too?”
“We really can’t say at this point, Ms. Venuto.”
“Oh, Sara, please. I understand. Well, let me think. Vera was with us for a long time, you know. I had started the business with my partner. We’d been open a few years when I brought Vera on. Back then, as I told you, we were called Bliss. My idea was to provide an experience. We didn’t just cut or style hair. I wanted our clients to feel like this was a safe haven where they could come and vent all their problems and be pampered. I wanted it to be… bliss!”
She laughed but it was cut short, her eyes filling with tears. “My God, I just can’t believe this. Poor Vera and Beverly. She just loved that little girl. I remember we threw her a baby shower right here—the staff and the clients. Her clients adored her. It was right before she went on bedrest, thank goodness. She went on bedrest very early. But we made sure she had everything she needed before that. Then we didn’t see her for months. She went and stayed with her brother until Beverly came.”
“Her brother?” Josie said. “Floyd?”
“Oh, I don’t remember his name. I just know she had an older brother—”
“Who lived in Georgia,” Josie said.
“I don’t know where he lived. Vera just told us he would take care of her while she was on bedrest. The next time we saw her, she had that beautiful little baby.”
Josie asked, “Did Vera ever talk about Beverly’s father?”
“No, not that I recall. She just said he didn’t want to be involved. But she was over the moon to be a mother. Beverly was so sweet.”
Sara’s face fell as if she’d remembered something disturbing.
Josie said, “Until she wasn’t.”
“I don’t want to say—look, it was hard on Vera being a single mother. Children can be very difficult, especially when they get to be a bit older, eleven or twelve. Right before puberty.”
“Beverly had behavioral issues,” Josie filled in.
“Yes,” Sara said, an air of resignation around her. “Please believe me, I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead.”
“I’m only looking for facts,” Josie told her. “Regardless of any issues that Beverly may have had in her short lifetime, my job is to find who killed her and put that person away for a very long time.”
Sara smiled sadly. “Vera had her tested, professionally. By both a psychiatrist and a psychologist. She was… wild. Disrespectful. It started when she turned eleven or twelve, I think. I’m really not sure. I remember it though because Vera was so distressed. She came in here day after day, often crying, saying to the other girls, ‘what happened to my sweet baby girl?’ The other women who had children would laugh and tell her that this was just a phase, but privately Vera told me it was more than that. Beverly was… destructive. She broke things around the house, flew into rages. I think that Vera was afraid of her—and I suppose rightly so, because they had an argument, and Beverly pushed her down the steps.”
Josie nodded. “I’m aware of that incident.”
“It was an accident. It really was. I went over there a few times afterward to help out. Beverly was genuinely contrite.”
“Did Vera ever tell you what the results of the psychiatric or psychological consultations were?” Josie asked.
“No. Only that Beverly suffered from low self-esteem, low impulse control, and depression. They talked about medicating her, but Vera was strongly against it. Things between them settled a bit after Vera’s accident.”
“Vera quit after that?” Josie asked.
“I kept her on as long as I could, first part-time and then whenever she could pick up a shift, but it became too much for her. I would have kept her on forever if I could. She was very talented and very personable. Her clients were devastated when she quit. Some of them had become extremely close with her. I believe they were friends outside of the salon.”