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Bloomfield wasn’t sure what to make of that but said, “Go ahead, dear.”
Montag lifted the paper, opened her mouth, tried to speak, produced a hoarse grunt.
Bloomfield said, “This is your time to shine, Lisette. When you’re ready.”
Montag cleared her throat, coughed once, then again. Her hands shook, causing the papers to billow.
She inhaled and began reading in a monotone.
“I, Lisette Deandra Montag, swear that my story is true.”
Turning to Bloomfield.
He said, “It certainly is, dear. Go on.”
“…that my story is true. I formerly lived in Temple City, California, and worked at The Style-Right Hair and Beauty Salon in nearby Palm Desert. During the course of my employment at The Style-Right Hair and Beauty Salon, I met a gentleman named Forrest Slope. Mr. Slope was an attorney who’d just retired and moved to Palm Desert. He had a very good head of thick, wavy hair that required regular…attention. He’d tried other haircutters and found them lacking and for that reason came to The Style-Right Hair and Beauty Salon. We’d gone unisex a few months ago and men were coming in more and more because we knew how to treat them with sensitivity.”
She stopped, gulped. “Icoulduse some water.”
Before Milo could respond, I was up and out of the room and filling one of the plastic cups Milo keeps in his office from a lavatory sink. When I returned, no one was talking.
Bloomfield said, “That’s something. A doctor fetching H2O.”
I handed the cup to Montag. She drank greedily.
Al Bloomfield said, “Need more, dear? I’m sure the doctor will be happy to fetch you more.”
She shook her head, returned to the front sheet, and scanned.
“Take your time,” said Bloomfield. “There’s no rush.”
Montag didn’t respond to him. Stayed robotic as she ran her finger down to a paragraph and cleared her throat again.
“So men were coming in more and more and one of them wasForrest and I got him because the day he came in my chair was empty. The cut and style went great. He had great hair and I did a great job. He started coming in regularly, sometimes even once a week for a trim. Then I suggested some skin work because the desert sun can do so much damage and he said let’s try it and I gave him an herbal wrap and he really liked it. Then he said he was looking for a place to get his body in shape so I said I work out…” Quaking chin. “I work out at this place up the block called The Sweat Box, it’s owned by a guy named Tyler Hoffgarden, he really works you hard, like a boot camp but you see results. That’s what I told Forrest and he said thanks Lisette and then I actually took him over to The Sweat Box and he liked it and started working out there.”
Her eyes shut.
Bloomfield said, “We know it’s tough.”
She faced him. “It’s my fault. I introduced them.”
“You had no way to know, dear. Your intentions were nothing but positive.”
“I know, I know…still…”
“Stillnothing,dear. You shared your own positive experiences with someone out of the goodness of your heart. That’s nothing to regret, absolutely nothing.”
Talking to us as he made a gym referral sound like something in Mother Teresa’s appointment book.
Milo knows keeping them talking is the big thing so he said, “Sounds like it started off pretty innocently.”
Lisette Montag said, “Not pretty.Totally.”
Bloomfield said, “No malice, no hidden agenda, she was being nice and the fact that things happened is not her fault.”
I pictured Montag directing the Tabash twins as they overpowered, transported, and lugged Hoffgarden to the kill-spot. Telling them go and wait by the Explorer, then finishing the job.
Milo said, “Got it.”
