Her temples throbbed as she considered the implications.
She resumed the subject with Dalton at home later that evening. Tobias’s death plagued her on many levels.
“Was this an accident or a deliberate attempt to do away with the permit inspector?” she asked her husband in their bedroom. Ryder was peacefully asleep, and they’d completed their evening chores.
“It’s too early to tell,” Dalton said, combing his hair with his fingers. “If there’s foul play involved, and this case is related to Jack’s death, it doesn’t fit the M.O. of a broken neck.”
“What does that mean? That the first crime was one of opportunity?”
“Not unless the killer was among the expected work crew that day. Otherwise, who else would have known Jack meant to show up at your mother’s job site?”
“Maybe someone followed him there. Or he could have had an appointment to meet somebody. Has Detective Wanner checked Jack’s personal calendar?”
Dalton laid out his clothes for the next day on his wooden valet stand. “Wanner should have acquired Jack’s cell phone records by now. He hasn’t said anything about the victim’s schedule. I can ask about it next time I talk to him.”
Marla pulled her bed covers down, exposing the sheets. She slid inside their cool comfort and straightened her nightshirt. “It’s possible Jack was bribing Tobias to give his crew a passing grade on inspections. Who would benefit from knocking off both of them?”
Dalton grunted. “Bradley Quinn comes to mind. His company’s reputation would suffer if these allegations were true.”
“So what’s our next step?”
“First, we have to see if Tobias’s death is ruled accidental or not. In the meantime, I’ll wait to hear from the real estate agent who sold Anita and Reed their house. It would be helpful to talk to the former owners about their remodeling job. I’d like to know if it happened around the same time as the copper thefts.”
“We should also ask them who was on their work crew. That could be relevant.”
Marla had a restless sleep that night. Questions pummeled her about the case.
One response came when Dalton touched base with Wanner the next day and asked about Jack’s schedule. Other than his work-related appointments, the foreman’s cell phone hadn’t indicated any other meetings. Nor did his phone records show any unrelated calls the morning of his death. Caroline at the office verified his assignments.
Dalton finally got a reply from the real estate agent later that afternoon.
“I have the address for the sellers,” he told Marla on the phone. “Ellen and Max Haywood moved to a condo in Stuart. I spoke to the wife, and she said they’d be home tomorrow morning if we wanted to stop by. I’d like to run up there and interview them in person.”
“I won’t have to be at work until one o’clock, but that will cut it close.” Marla stepped outside the salon for some privacy. She used her earpiece to talk and sat on the front bench. “Can’t we discuss this with them over the phone?”
“I prefer to meet people face-to-face to gauge their reactions. I told them you’re the buyer’s daughter and that you’d like to pick up any appliance manuals or service records they forgot to leave in the house. You also had questions about the remodeling work they’d had done. Mrs. Haywood was curious to hear what your mom is doing to the place. The pair made many fond memories in that house.”
“What time did you say we’d arrive?” she asked, mentally rearranging her schedule.
“Ten o’clock. It’ll take us an hour and a half to get there.”
“If we’re done early, we can eat lunch in town. I know a good restaurant.”
She reentered the salon after they’d disconnected. If one more thing crowded her schedule, her brain would explode. This trip had better be worth her time. She already had too much on her mind. Her family. Jack’s murder. And now Tobias’s death. Plus, this weekend was the garlic festival. Thank goodness Robyn was handling those details.
Fortunately, work occupied her attention throughout the rest of the day. During the early hours on Thursday, she performed her morning routine, catching up on chores while Dalton drove Ryder to daycare. Before he returned, she checked in with her mother.
“Hi, Ma. We heard back from that real estate lady. Dalton and I are going to speak to the sellers this morning.”
“I hope you learn something useful,” Anita said. “Detective Wanner stopped by again yesterday. He wanted to look in our garage.”
Marla’s breath hitched. “What for?”
“He didn’t say. Probably looking for murder weapons, if you ask me. I really don’t like that man.”
“Jack’s neck was broken. The killer didn’t need any weapons. Did Detective Wanner ask you about anything in particular?”
“Yes, he wanted to know if we had gas or electrical appliances. Why would that matter?”
Marla drew in a deep breath. Her mother deserved to know. “There’s been another death,” she explained. “Tobias Banyan, the permit inspector, was found dead in his house from carbon monoxide poisoning.”
Her mother gasped. “Oh no, how horrible. That poor man. But wait,” Ma said as the wheels must have clicked in her mind. “What does that have to do with us?”
“It’s possible his death, if not ruled an accident, is related to Jack’s case.” Now that she thought about it, if Wanner went to her mom’s house to look for evidence, he might already suspect sabotage.
“Let’s hope the detective is visiting all the other people involved in Jack’s case. Do you believe these two incidents are related?”
“In my opinion, Ma, it’s too coincidental for them not to be connected. Tell me, was Tobias the permit inspector on your job?”
“Who knows? Jack had all those papers. We won’t get the final copy until the job is done. We signed the permit application, but that’s all. The rest is up to the design company.”
“Reed had no reason to meet with the permit guy in person?” If she could prove he had no connection to the man, that might get her stepdad off the hook, especially if both murders were linked. That’s assuming Tobias didn’t die by accident after all.
“I don’t believe they’ve met.” Anita paused. “Listen, you would tell me if you knew more, wouldn’t you? I don’t like being kept in the dark, and this latest death scares me. It’s bad enough that Reed tries to protect me, but you don’t usually hold back.”
Marla compressed her lips. She was doing her best to keep things on an even keel, in her own life and for her mom. She had a fleeting thought that it would be nice if her brother got involved, but he had his own problems. She’d not forgotten about him but didn’t have the energy to deal with anything else at the moment.
“I’ve told you what I know, Ma. How are things going between you and Reed?” she asked, concerned for their relationship. “I thought you two were on the mend.”
Anita sighed. “He’s still holding back. I can tell by the way his face tightens when I try to get answers. It has to do with that actress.”
“Maybe he’s protecting her the same as you.” She, too, was curious about Reed’s history with Davinia. That was something she hoped to learn more about at the garlic festival.
“It doesn’t mean he has to act like a clam,” Ma said in an irritated tone. “Good luck with the former homeowners today. Give them our regards and tell them we love the house.”
I hope you feel the same way once this case is cleared, Marla thought as she pressed the disconnect button.
Dalton arrived home and greeted her in the kitchen. “Are you ready to leave?” he asked. “We might hit rush hour traffic so we should get going.”
Marla, hoping to relax in the car, hoisted her purse and followed him out the door.
“I have a theory about Tobias’s death,” Dalton said, once they hit the highway.
“Oh yeah? Did Wanner confirm it was a homicide?” She reported her conversation with her mother and that the detective had been asking ab
out their appliances.
“Not yet, but he did mention Tobias’s home had a propane tank. Propane gas is colorless and odorless. A chemical is added that gives off a bad smell so it’s more detectable. However, if the piping is rusty or a leak occurs underground, this odor might not be present. In that case, you can look for patches of dead grass in the yard as a warning sign.”
Marla was glad they had electrical appliances in their home. “How does the gas get into the house if the damage occurs outside?” She didn’t understand what this had to do with Tobias’s demise but was willing to hear him out. Clearly, he’d researched the topic.
Dalton gripped the steering wheel as they sped north on I-95. “Propane is lighter than water. After a heavy rainstorm, any propane leaking into the ground may be displaced by rainwater soaking into the soil. As a result, the propane surfaces and can seep into your house if you have cracks in your foundation.”
“Wouldn’t a leak cause an explosion?”
Dalton nodded, his gaze focused forward. “In some cases. Propane mixed with air is flammable. It can be ignited by an open flame, an electrical spark, or static electricity. That’s why if you suspect a leak, you should get out of the house as quickly as possible. Don’t turn on the lights, adjust the thermostat, or even use your cell phone. Once outside, you can turn off the gas at the tank.”
“I’d stand clear and call for help.” Marla stared at the palm trees lining the road. “Are there leak detectors you can buy for propane gas, like our combo alarms for smoke and carbon monoxide?”
“Yes, you can order them online. They’re easy to plug into a wall outlet, but propane gas is heavier than air. It’s best to put them lower to the ground.”
“Aren’t there any warning signs inside the house?”
He nodded. “Hissing noises near a gas appliance may be a sign. Your houseplants might die due to reduced oxygen. If you have a gas stove, the smell might linger longer than normal after you turn on the burner, or the color of the flame might change from blue to orange or yellow.”
“Most people probably wouldn’t notice those things,” Marla said. “We’re more familiar with the physical symptoms, such as dizziness, nausea, or headache. Anyway, I still don’t understand how carbon monoxide poisoning relates to propane gas.”
“If a pipe is damaged or an appliance vent gets clogged, incomplete combustion will occur. Carbon monoxide is a byproduct of this process,” Dalton explained.
“Tally said propane tanks may have copper piping. If that’s stripped out by thieves, would it cause a leak into the house?”
“It’s possible. If a cut pipe is the source of the problem in Tobias’s death, I’d suspect one of Jack’s former associates might be involved.”
“Do you think that’s why Wanner was sniffing around my mother’s house? He could have been looking for wire cutters or whatever else you need to sabotage a supply line. Their place doesn’t have any gas appliances. Wanner asked about it, probably to determine if Reed had any familiarity with propane tanks.”
“We need to determine who else was in that robbery ring,” Dalton said, his brow creasing. “I have a feeling we’ll find more answers in that direction. Let’s see what we can learn at our next stop, and then I’ll give Wanner a call to update him.”
They got off the highway at Stuart and followed their GPS to the sellers’ house. Ellen and Max Haywood lived in a high-rise condo by the beach. Marla and Dalton passed through security and took an elevator to the seventh floor. A long, carpeted hallway stretched before them in either direction.
As they ambled down the corridor, Marla sniffed cooking odors reminiscent of her grandmother’s apartment in New York State. You could tell what people were having for dinner by the aromas emanating from their front doors.
She had reluctantly accompanied Ma on a dutiful visit once a month. Her nose wrinkled as she remembered the smell of cabbage soup simmering on her grandmother’s gas stove and the inevitable tuna salad prepared for the visitors. Perhaps those memories were responsible for her aversion to a high-rise lifestyle. She didn’t care to know what her neighbors were eating for each meal.
They rang the doorbell on the Haywoods’ unit. A woman with layered honey-wheat hair opened the door with a friendly smile on her face. Younger than Marla had expected, she wore a caftan and had tied a bandana sixties-style around her head. Chunky turquoise jewelry adorned her neck and wrist. Scents of vanilla and cinnamon wafted from the kitchen.
“Something smells good,” Dalton said after introductions were made.
“Please, come in. I’m baking banana bread. If you’re still here when it’s ready, you can have a slice.”
Her husband Max was a tall guy with gray hair and a moustache. He had sunspots on his ruddy complexion that indicated time spent outdoors. He wore a button-down shirt tucked into belted trousers.
Inside the living room, souvenir plates took up space on a wall unit along with Mexican onyx paperweights and southwestern pottery. An eclectic collection of paintings hung on the walls. Marla guessed the couple had acquired these on their travels.
She complimented the selection of art works, encouraging the pair to talk about their trips. A set of sliding glass doors led to a screened lanai with a view of the ocean. She glimpsed the brilliant blue sky and the waves below.
At Ellen’s invitation, she and Dalton sat on the sofa. They declined an offer of coffee.
“Have you guys done much traveling?” Ellen asked, seated in an armchair opposite them.
Marla and Dalton exchanged glances. “We visited his family in Arizona,” Marla replied, catching his signal that she should continue to take the lead. “We’ve only been married a few years, and we have a ten-month old son. Our trips now are limited to daycare and back, I’m afraid. Besides, I own a hair salon that keeps me busy,” she said, handing over a business card.
“And you?” Max asked Dalton. “What do you do? With a baby at home, I gather you’re not retired. Besides, you aren’t old enough.”
“I don’t have to wait until I’m sixty-five,” he retorted in a snippety tone that made Marla glare at him. What kind of response was that?
“He’s in the security business,” she told the couple hastily. “He loves his work and is great at what he does.” She needed to steer the conversation toward their renovations to see if she and Dalton could connect the dots to the copper thefts. At the very least, Marla hoped to learn who’d been on the work crew at the couple’s job site.
“I believe it was your mother who bought our house?” Ellen said, eyeing them curiously. “How does she like living there? We raised our two kids in that home. We could have used a bigger place, but we wanted to stay in the neighborhood.”
The aroma of baking bread from the kitchen made Marla’s stomach rumble. A breakfast bar and fruit cup hadn’t been an adequate meal.
“My mother loves the house,” Marla replied. “She especially likes the kitchen cabinets and the pullout drawers. Reed has made the front room into his home office. They’ve repainted and changed the carpets and now they’re remodeling the master bathroom. I understand you’d made some changes during your time there.”
Ellen bobbed her head, her hair swinging inward. “We bought a new vanity after the sink faucet sprang a leak. It had a stone countertop and double sinks, although I realize it would be too low by today’s standards. We never updated the shower. It still had those tiny tiles that were in fashion when we bought the place.”
“Did the same company do your bathroom as well as the kitchen?”
“Yes, it was Kingdom Kitchens. I looked up our records after your husband called. I had forgotten to leave them for the new owners. He said you also wanted any appliance manuals or other service receipts we might have packed by mistake. I’ll go get them. Are you sure I can’t bring you something to drink?”
At their refusal, Ellen bustled from the room. Dalton engaged Max in a talk about sports while Marla got up to admire the view. She studied the ebb and
flow of the ocean below. People were out sunning on the beach and swimming in the current. They must be tourists, she figured. The water would be too chilly for her until mid-summer.
“I put the documents in here,” Ellen announced, returning with a large manila envelope in hand. “Please give this to your mother.”
“Thanks.” Marla took it and resumed her seat. “Do you mind if I glance through the papers now?” At the woman’s nod of approval, she withdrew the stack and shuffled through them. “You have a few business cards in here. One names a Ben Brigham as the remodel company president, and another mentions a guy named Kyle as their designer. Do those names ring a bell?”
Max shook his head. “Not really, but I do recall Jack working for us as one of the construction guys. You know that old expression, ‘You don’t know Jack?’ That’s how I remember him. The fellow used every excuse in the book as to why things didn’t happen on time. Brigham should have fired him but the two seemed as close as a kite to the wind.”
Marla suppressed her excitement at this news. “Do you happen to recall Jack’s last name?”
“Sorry, I’m lucky I remembered that much.”
She riffled through the papers. No other business cards fell out, but she did catch a signature. Her heart skipped a beat as she nudged her husband and pointed to the fellow’s name. Jack Laredo’s scrawl was clearly identified.
“How did you come to hire Kingdom Kitchens?” Dalton asked, shifting his position.
Max grimaced. “A friend recommended them to us. I should have done more due diligence, but we weren’t as well versed in online reviews as we are today. We called their references and verified that they filed the proper permits. Some people had complaints, but most were happy with the results. We had no qualms about going forward with them.”
“Did they fulfill their contract?” Marla was curious to know.
“It took longer than we’d expected, but everything got done. We were fortunate. Do you know my cousin took a hit in one of those remodeling scams? Jimmy gave a deposit to a company that wanted fifty percent up front. After a few false starts, they disappeared into the night. He lost ten grand in a wire transfer to some dummy account.”
Styled for Murder Page 17
