Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [89]
“Might be interesting.” Mrs. Olinski shrugged good-naturedly.
“I won’t keep you. I just thought I’d stop in and see if you would be free for lunch later.”
“Oh, I’d love to, but I am booked straight through till seven again tonight.” Dolores made an exaggeratedly sad face.
“Well, then, how ’bout dinner?”
“It’s my night to clean up. We take turns, me and Connie. She closed last night,” Dolores explained.
“You need to leave early for something, Dolores?” Connie came into the shop, a plastic bag in one hand, a folded newspaper under her arm. Seeing Vince in the shop, she slowed her pace. “Oh, hi, Vinnie.”
“Connie.” He nodded, sensing something in her face, her manner, that brought all his senses to life. “How are you?”
“Good. I’m good.” She walked past him and took a bottle of soda from the bag and deposited it on the counter next to where Dolores was working. “They didn’t have Diet Pepsi. I had to get you Diet Dr Pepper.”
“That’s fine, Con. Thanks.” Dolores continued to work, oblivious to the faint trace of tension. “Ellie Cohen called. She’s running fifteen minutes late.”
“That’s okay. Gives me a minute to put my feet up.” She went back to the reception area and sat down. She took the top off a bottle of water and downed a long drink before setting it on the counter and opening the newspaper.
She called back to Dolores. “Dee, what were you saying about closing?”
“Just that you closed last night so it’s my turn to close tonight.”
“I could close if you needed to do something.” Connie opened the appointment book and studied the entries. “I’m going to be here late anyway. Your last is at seven, just a cut. My last is at seven-thirty, but it’s a double process and a cut. You’ll be done by seven-thirty. I’ll be lucky to get out of here by nine-thirty.” She turned to look back at Dolores. “No point in you hanging around until I’m finished.”
“Are you sure? I could close for you tomorrow and the next night, then.”
“That works.” Connie nodded, toying thoughtfully with one corner of the newspaper.
“Looks like I’ll be free for dinner after all,” Dolores told Vince. “Want to pick me up at home?”
“Sure. Eight-fifteen good?” he asked.
“Perfect.” She nodded. “See you then.”
“See you then.” With one more wink for the elderly Mrs. Olinski, Vince started toward the front of the shop.
He slowed his step as he reached the desk. At his approach, Connie folded the paper quickly and stuffed it into a nearby trash can.
“Have a nice day, Connie,” he said as he passed by.
“You, too, Vinnie,” she said without looking at him.
“So, Dolores, that’s your new beau?” Mrs. Olinski asked after Vinnie left the shop.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Dolores nodded. “He’s my new guy.”
“He seems very nice.”
“Oh, he’s wonderful. And a perfect gentleman.” Dolores rolled her eyes in pleasure. “An absolute doll.”
“Dee, you wearing that necklace Vinnie gave you?” Connie leaned over the back of the chair at the next station.
“Of course I’m wearing the necklace. I never take it off.” Her fingers reached to touch it, then she recalled the plastic gloves covered with hair dye and stopped.
“Where’d he say he got that again?” Connie’s eyes narrowed.
“It belonged to his grandmother.”
“And he gave it to you. Just like that.”
“Just like that.” Dolores grinned. “He said he’d been waiting for the right girl to give it to. Am I lucky or what?”
“I guess.”
“Your young man gave you a family heirloom?” A curious Mrs. Olinski looked up at Dolores.
“Yes.” She raised her chin. “Can you see it?”
Mrs. Olinski leaned closer as Dolores leaned over to show off the V formed by the collar of her shirt.
“Oh, that pretty little circle there? Oh, my, are they real emeralds?”
“Real emeralds. Real diamonds.” Dolores nodded, a trace of pride in her voice.
“Oh, that is lovely,” Mrs. Olinski said. “You are a lucky girl. . . .”
Connie stood up and went back to the receptionist’s desk. Slumping into the chair, she retrieved the newspaper, smoothed it out, and leaned over the counter to study the article spread out before her. When