Tara Holloway 03 - Death, Taxes, and Extra-Hold Hairspray by Diane Kelly Page B

hold my own.
    Alicia and I had met as accounting majors at the University of Texas in Austin years ago and immediately hit it off. We’d roomed together during college and, after graduation, had both taken jobs at Martin and McGee’s Dallas office. While working at the CPA firm was the perfect fit for Alicia, the job proved to be less than perfect for me. I’d grown up a tomboy in the open spaces of east Texas and didn’t cope well with prolonged periods of confinement. I simply wasn’t cut out for the cubicle world. Nevertheless, I’d maintained my close bond to Alicia even after I’d left the accounting firm to take the special agent job with the IRS. She was a true friend, someone I could always count on. And today I needed her help.
    After a quick bite at a sandwich shop, we made our way to a downtown wig store, two women with a mission—find a strawberry-blond beehive wig for my boss. We stepped inside and surveyed the room. The wigs were arranged in a veritable rainbow that spanned from one side of the boutique to the other. Blonds lined the wall on the left with reds in the center, giving way to brown and black wigs on the right.
    We headed down the middle aisle. The wigs were displayed on two-tiered shelves and perched on white ceramic head-shaped figures that resembled decapitated albino aliens.
    Alicia leaned into me and whispered, “This place gives me the creeps.”
    I had the same feeling. “Yeah. It’s like Jeffrey Dahmer’s freezer in here. Except warmer.”
    We stopped to look at three models on an upper shelf.
    Alicia tilted her head, considering. “What about one of those?”
    “Nope.” I pointed at each wig in turn. “Too dark, too orange, too straight.”
    Alicia pointed her finger in my face. “Too picky.”
    “It has to be just right,” I said, “or Lu won’t be happy with it. Her hair means a lot to her.”
    Alicia picked up one of the heads from a lower shelf and turned it to face me. “What about this one? It reminds me of Debra Messing.” Alicia had been a huge Will and Grace fan. She’d cried when the show ended.
    I shook my head. “Too curly. Lu would look like Little Orphan Annie in that thing. Or Shaun White. Or Carrot Top.”
    “Okay, okay. I get it. No curls.” Alicia put the head back on the shelf.
    An older clerk approached us. Given that her hair was a natural wiry gray, she apparently didn’t take advantage of her sales position to wear the merchandise. “May I help you ladies find something?”
    “We’re looking for something in a strawberry blond,” I said.
    “I think we can help you out.” She slid a pair of glasses onto her nose and gestured for us to follow her. “This way.”
    She stopped on the next aisle in front of a straight pale blond wig with slight undertones of red. She gestured with her hand. “Here we go. Strawberry blond.”
    The color was closer to Lu’s shade, but we weren’t quite there yet. “Got anything that’s a little heavier on the strawberry?”
    The woman took a few steps forward and bent down to pull a display head off the bottom shelf. This wig was redder than the previous selection, but still too light. Lu’s color was a unique shade of pinkish-orange that was apparently one of a kind. We moved forward a few feet and she picked up another. Still not quite right.
    I reached into my purse and pulled the lock of Lu’s hair from the inside pocket where I’d stashed it. Fortunately, her industrial-strength hairspray had held the sample together. “I’m trying to match this.”
    The woman took the strands from me. “Is this from a doll? Or a stuffed animal?”
    I shook my head. “No. It’s from a real person. My boss. She has cancer and her hair’s falling out.”
    The woman ran her thumb over the hair. “Why is it so stiff and sticky?”
    “She uses a special type of extra-hold hairspray,” I explained. “It’s imported.” Without the sturdy stuff her beehive could never have maintained its height.
    We made our