Hair Brained (The Bad Hair Day Mysteries Book 14)

by Nancy J. Cohen

  After doing her duty and putting Luke back in his stroller, Marla opened the folding closet doors. Inside, she found a stash of diapers, clean bottles, and baby toiletries. “Oh wow, we should have looked in here the other day. Look, there’s a portable swing still in its box. I might take that along. Oh, and I mustn’t forget the plastic bathtub.”

  “I saw one in the middle bathroom,” Phil said, hovering in the doorway. “Your husband mentioned he might come by for the changing table later. So tell me, what do the doctors say about Tally’s condition?”

  “You haven’t called the hospital?”

  “Not yet. I’ve been busy.”

  Yeah, right. Selfish jerk. She hoped Tally had hidden her valuables, suddenly not trusting the man to safeguard his sister-in-law’s interests. “As Dalton told you earlier, Tally is unconscious with a head injury. Her recovery could be long and difficult once she wakes up.”

  “I hope she has good health insurance. Speaking of the topic, do you have copies of any policies Ken might have had?”

  “You mean, like life insurance?” Marla asked.

  “Or accidental death. His auto insurance might provide a benefit.”

  “I’ll have to look through the packet of papers Tally gave me for safekeeping. I don’t think it contains insurance documents. Ken’s office might have that information.”

  Marla placed her supplies by the front door before proceeding to wheel Luke into the kitchen. An empty frozen pizza box sat on the counter beside a pile of dirty dishes. It appeared Phil had been helping to clean out the refrigerator, she thought with a cynical twist to her lips. He was making himself right at home but without assuming any of the responsibilities.

  What a shmuck. All he cares about is himself.

  Then again, he seemed quite interested in Ken’s insurance policies. She narrowed her eyes as she regarded the chemist. If Ken had a life insurance policy, who was the beneficiary if Tally didn’t survive him? Had the policy been written years ago, before they had a son? Maybe Ken hadn’t changed the terms. Could Phil be his heir if Tally died?

  A horrible notion came to mind. How did she and Dalton know when Phil’s flight actually arrived? What if he’d come to town earlier than he let on? He could have caused the accident that killed his brother.

  Chapter Four

  Marla discarded the notion of Phil’s possible culpability for the car crash as being too paranoid. She’d be wise to focus on practical matters and let the cops deal with the accident.

  Inside Tally’s home office, she surveyed the furnishings. A computer desk, bookshelf, printer stand, and file cabinet occupied the space with a comfy chair by the front window. A lump rose in her throat. Ken wouldn’t be coming in here ever again. Never in her imagination had Marla envisioned sifting through her friends’ things like this.

  Her mind numb with grief, she froze in place, uncertain what to tackle first. She needed to cancel any impending appointments Tally and Ken had made, so that necessitated finding a calendar. They both could have kept this information on their cell phones, which were presumably in police possession. Hopefully, her friend had a backup somewhere in this room or on their desktop computer.

  Somebody should respond to their email, too. Was that to be her job as well? Resentment flared toward Phil, who didn’t want to share any of the responsibilities. Then again, he hadn’t shirked his brotherly duty of making Ken’s funeral arrangements.

  The tasks seemed overwhelming, but she had to start somewhere. Pausing by the desk, she riffled through the papers on top. She struck gold upon spying a leather-bound appointment book in a bin among a pile of printed receipts. A further search revealed Tally’s address book. Thank goodness her friend hadn’t kept everything on her phone.

  What about Ken? Where did he keep his records? Maybe more information was available online.

  Marla sat at the desk, turned on the monitor, and moved the mouse. Desktop icons popped up on the screen. After clicking on various folders and finding nothing useful, Marla debated what to do next. She might have to let Dalton tackle this part. If they could access Ken’s emails, it might hint at who had called him out on a holiday evening.

  Or, he could have a laptop where he stored his emails. Since she didn’t see one in the house, it might have been in their car the night of the accident or kept at Ken’s office. Dalton could find out if a notebook computer was recovered from the wreck.

  In the meantime, she shut off the monitor but left the computer turned on to avoid triggering password protection at their next attempt. She rose, considering what else she needed to find. A checkbook would come in handy.

  A search through the desk drawers produced the item, although it wouldn’t do her much good as yet. Marla would have to present Tally’s power of attorney document at the bank in order to gain access to her accounts.

  Most people never thought about dying or being disabled and leaving such a mess. With online accounts, it became even more complicated. Everyone should be advised to leave a list of passwords for their heirs and to mention Internet sites in their estate documents. She and Dalton needed to address this issue, too.

  Her temples throbbed from the complexity of it all. Luke was what mattered the most, she reminded herself. How well had Ken provided for his son?

  A search through the file cabinet didn’t reveal any insurance documents. Likely Ken kept that information at work, since he owned an insurance agency.

  Clutching the items she’d retrieved, Marla headed for the kitchen. Phil, who’d been stooping in front of the baby and making silly faces, sobered at her arrival. He straightened his spine, quickly wiping any frivolity from his expression. She smiled inwardly. So Luke’s uncle wasn’t immune to the child after all.

  “Please let us know the burial information when you have a date and time,” she told him. “And if anything changes in Tally’s condition, I’ll give you a call.”

  “Thanks.” Phil’s shoulders drooped, and his mouth twisted with self-deprecation. “I appreciate your help with everything and in caring for Luke. I’d be no good as a dad.”

  “You might surprise yourself, but it’s a lot of responsibility for a single person.”

  “No kidding. Let’s just say I’m glad you’re the designated guardian.” He handed her a pile of envelopes. “Here’s the mail from yesterday. When I’ve gone home, somebody will have to come by the house every few days to collect it.”

  Outside, he helped load the baby things into her car while she fit Luke into his seat.

  Marla waved at him before starting the ignition and moving along. They’d all have to move on, she thought morosely. That’s what happened when someone died. Life kept going forward, while the survivors struggled to find meaning in the void.

  Glancing at the dashboard clock, she decided to make one more stop before bringing Luke home. Some of the answers she needed could be found at Ken’s office. Regardless of whether Dalton had visited Ken’s colleagues yet, she had news to share with them.

  Before long, she pulled into a parking space in front of the standalone building housing his business. Low hedges provided minimal landscaping for this spot near a busy shopping strip. Several cars were parked in front, which could belong to employees.

  Marla went through the rigmarole of unfolding Luke’s stroller, unstrapping him from the car seat, switching transport devices, and wheeling him inside the structure. She left the diaper bag in the car. Hopefully, this wouldn’t take long.

  The front office consisted of two desks facing forward, a visitor seating arrangement including potted plants, a coffee table holding magazines, and a counter with a coffeemaker. A water dispenser stood in another corner.

  At one desk, a young man wearing a dress shirt and tie spoke into a headpiece. He spared her a quick glance before resuming his conversation. The other employee, a fiftyish blonde with shoulder-length hair, gave her a wan smile.

  “Hello, may I help you? My name is Jeri, and that’s Ryan,” the woman said in a soft
Southern drawl.

  Marla advanced, pushing the stroller. “I’m Marla Vail. Ken was a close friend of mine. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Jeri rose from her chair and rounded her desk. “Isn’t that his son? I recognize that cute nose.” She bent to tickle the baby’s chin. Luke cooed at her, waving his tiny hands. When Jeri straightened, she regarded Marla with moist eyes.

  “Are you caring for their child? Poor little guy.”

  “Yes, I’m serving as Tally’s trustee and Luke’s guardian.”

  “This is so unreal. I’m still expecting Ken to walk through the door.”

  “I feel the same way. It must be difficult for you.” Marla paused to swallow the lump in her throat. “I’ve spoken to his brother and wanted to let you know the plans.”

  “Guys, you have to hear this,” Jeri called to her colleagues beyond an open inner door. “Come on, Marla, let me introduce you.”

  Marla followed her to a series of glass-partitioned offices. She met Shawna, a mocha-skinned woman with a short bob of ebony hair, and Darryl, a middle-aged white guy who wore his gray hair slicked back from a receding hairline.

  “How many people work here?” she asked, eyeing a further inner sanctum with a closed door.

  “That’s Ken’s office,” Jeri explained, noting the direction of her glance. “Aside from the owner manager, five of us staff the place. Ronnie isn’t here today. He’s our financial planner. So what were you saying about Ken’s final arrangements?”

  “His brother plans to hold a private graveside burial. Tally will probably arrange for a memorial service once she recovers, so you’d be able to attend then.”

  “How is she doing?” Jeri tugged at her patterned top, its blue hues enhancing her cobalt eyes.

  “I’ve visited her in the hospital. It’ll be a long road to recovery.”

  Shawna swept her arm in an expansive gesture, a number of bracelets jangling on her wrist. “It’s not the same around here without Ken. I can’t imagine what it will be like for the boy growing up without his daddy.” She swiped a tear drizzling down her cheek.

  “Tell me, did any of you call Ken on New Year’s Eve?” Marla inquired to rouse them from their grief. “The babysitter said Ken received a work-related call, and that’s what made him go out late on a holiday night.”

  The others shook their heads, while Darryl responded. “The police detective has already asked us that question. We told him no. I don’t think Ronnie called him, either. He was busy partying on New Year’s Eve.” Darryl’s deep baritone voice boomed like a radio announcer. He wore a slate gray sport coat over a white shirt and crimson striped tie.

  “So how come your office is still open? I’d have expected you to close with your owner gone.” Marla hoped she didn’t sound insensitive. Dalton had told her the staff was still keeping office hours. Shouldn’t they have shut down for a few days out of respect for Ken?

  Luke started to fuss, and she rocked the stroller back and forth. It was probably close to his feeding time, or else he needed a diaper change.

  “I’m the senior member,” Darryl related. “I’ve taken over as manager until a new guy is appointed, or until we learn who inherits the business. Ken didn’t write policies anymore. That’s what Shawna and I do. His role was to review our reports along with customer service ratings. Those can wait until a new owner takes over. Do you have any idea when that might happen?”

  “You’ll have to ask my husband. Dalton is Ken’s executor and successor trustee. He’s also a detective on the Palm Haven police force, but he doesn’t have jurisdiction on the accident since it happened in Davie. The lead investigator is keeping him informed.”

  That might not be totally true, but these guys didn’t have to know it.

  Jeri wrung her hands. “We’d considered shutting down, but that wouldn’t serve our customers. Meanwhile, we’re in a holding pattern. For all we know, the business might be sold, and then we’ll be out of our jobs.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen,” Darryl said in a firm tone. He scrunched his eyes like a squirrel spying an acorn as he regarded Marla. “So you’ll tell us if there’s a memorial service? We’d want to come.”

  “Yes, of course.” The baby’s cries got louder. “I’m so sorry. Luke needs my attention. Oh, there’s one more thing before I leave. Ken’s brother wants to know if you have copies of any personal insurance policies Ken might have had.”

  “I’ll check our files, but it will have to be later,” Jeri replied. “I have some return phone calls to make to clients, and I’ve delayed them as long as I can.”

  “Didn’t Ken leave instructions for his wife?” Darryl cut in. “I mean, wouldn’t he have told Tally where he kept their important papers?”

  “I’m sure he did, except I can’t ask her, can I?” Marla retorted. “We’ll need to know about all his policies. Also, please check to see if Tally has health coverage through your agency. If so, I’d like a summary of her benefits.”

  Tally might need to go to rehab after the hospital, Marla thought. Hopefully, her health insurance would cover that expense.

  These were things Marla and Dalton needed to discuss for themselves. Death, dying, and disability weren’t favorite topics in their household, despite Dalton’s work that exposed him to these possibilities every day.

  Jeri tapped her arm. “Ken had a generous health care plan for all of us. I’ll see if Tally is included.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate it. Tally has her own business, so it’s possible she’s listed on their group policy.” She exchanged business cards with Darryl and Jeri, who seemed to be the senior members of the group.

  Jeri walked Marla to the door. “I feel so bad for Tally. We’d like to send flowers, but the ICU doesn’t allow them. Should we send them to the brother?”

  “No, he plans to leave town as soon as his job is done. Why don’t you wait until Tally is awake and moves to a regular hospital room?”

  “All right. Please let us know about any change in her condition.”

  Before Marla could leave, the clean-shaven young man from the other front desk loped over to greet her. “Hi, I’m Ryan Browning. Sorry if I was on the phone earlier.”

  “No problem. I’m Marla Vail, a close friend of Tally and Ken.”

  “Yeah, I heard. Ken was nice to give me this job. It’s my first position out of college. I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

  “I know.” Sensing he wanted to talk, Marla gave the man an encouraging smile.

  “He took an interest in each of us, asking about our families. And he offered to pay for our education, too, if we wanted to attend seminars. Lately he seemed distracted, though.”

  Luke emitted a series of cries, stirring restlessly.

  “Ryan, let the lady go. You can see the baby needs attention.” Jeri pressed her lips together, her eyes a stormy blue.

  “In a minute.” Ryan grasped Marla’s arm and drew her aside. “Ken was a careful driver. He wouldn’t take risks on a dark road late at night.”

  “What are you saying?” She tilted her head to hear better since he spoke in a low tone.

  “I heard a rumor that another driver was involved. The cops should dig deeper.”

  Jeri hustled between them. “Look, the baby is crying. Ryan, you should go back to work. Your next boss might not be so lenient when you waste valuable time.”

  Marla said her farewells and departed, while pondering their office dynamics. What had Ryan meant to say? Could one of them be lying about the phone call Ken received that fateful night?

  She put aside those considerations as other priorities drew her attention. Her path led home, where she fed Luke, changed him, and put him down for a nap. Soon her mother would arrive to babysit. Marla wouldn’t get home until after eight since Thursdays were her late day at work.

  “Hi, Ma,” she called from the front doorway when her mother appeared.

  Anita shlepped a hardcover book along with her purse as she approached the en
try. She wore a snug pair of navy pants and a matching top with a long gold chain. Viewing her pristine outfit, Marla had a vision of Luke spitting up as he sometimes did with a burp. She’d forgotten to retrieve the cloths Tally threw over her shoulder when she fed him. That was another item to add to her shopping list. Meanwhile, dishtowels could serve the same purpose.

  “How’s it going?” Anita brushed past her and aimed for the kitchen, where she put her things down on the counter.

  “I’ve been out all morning. It’s good of you to come.”

  “My pleasure, bubeleh. Y’all know how I wish you and Dalton—”

  “Thanks, I’m aware of your desire for more grandchildren. Talk to my brother Michael about it instead of me. I’m leaving for work.”

  The lines deepened around Anita’s mouth, but she refrained from making a retort that would aggravate them both. “Where’s the baby?” she asked in a mild tone.

  “Luke is taking a nap. Look, I borrowed this stuff from Tally’s house. I’ll put it away later.”

  Anita viewed the supplies Marla had obtained. “I can sort them out for you. Any word on Tally’s condition?”

  Marla recalled the gut-wrenching call she’d received twenty minutes ago. “The doctor wanted permission to put a chest tube in. Tally has a pleural effusion. That means there’s fluid around her lungs, although my mind blanks out when he uses medical terms.”

  “It’s a good hospital. Tally will be all right.”

  “She might survive, but what then? She could need care for the rest of her life.”

  “Take one step at a time. You’re doing the best you can for her.”

  “Phil didn’t seem too concerned.” Marla reviewed her visit with the brother.

  “Just as well that Tally and Ken didn’t rely on him as guardian for their child.”

  “Amen to that. Oh, I found something Dalton might need to know.” She pulled the scrap of paper from her pocket that she’d obtained at Tally’s house and texted him the message.