Hair Brained

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “Text me when you get there, and don’t drive home too late,” he called after her as she exited to the garage.

  The moon had risen by the time Marla reached Rissa’s address in Boca Raton. The gated community had luxurious lawns, tropical shrubbery, and sprawling houses with screened pools in back. For a wealthy neighborhood, the residences were crammed close together with little space in between. She liked the one on Rissa’s corner that had a stone-faced turret and bay windows.

  Rissa’s place had an impressive entrance lush with green foliage and flowering plants. A brightly lit crystal chandelier shone from inside the foyer through glass panels in the polished cherry wood front doors. Marla adjusted the cross-body strap of her purse while waiting for someone to answer the doorbell.

  When nobody responded, she twisted the knob. It opened easily. She entered to face a living room directly ahead and a dining room to her right. Voices assailed her from farther in the house. People must be gathered in the kitchen and family room.

  Thinking it wasn’t safe to leave the front door unlocked so burglars could enter, she shut the door and headed toward the sounds in back. Her heels clicked on the tile floor. As she rounded a corner to enter a spacious kitchen, she spotted Rissa. The redhead stood among a cluster of guests.

  Rissa hurried over to exchange air-kisses. “Marla, I’m so glad you came.”

  Marla noted men in the crowd. “I thought you said this was a girls-only party.”

  Rissa pouted her cosmetically-enhanced lips. “These guys are special. You’ll see what I mean. Look, Bridget is here.” She pointed to the blonde dressed in a low-cut dress that clung to her curves. A bevy of men surrounded her while she simpered under their attention, most of which fixated on her chest.

  A note of unease crept up Marla’s spine. The proportion of women to men seemed off, favoring the former gender. Why couldn’t she have brought Dalton? And who were these ladies? Did they belong to the tea party circle, or were they neighbors?

  She observed a commonality among them. They boasted taut faces, wide-open eyes that didn’t show the ravages of age, perfectly-styled hair, and stiff mouth muscles when they smiled. They wore a lot of makeup with a predominance of bold lip colors. Their outfits showed a generous view, enhanced by body language easily interpreted as a come-on.

  “Who are these people?” she asked Rissa in a sharper tone than intended.

  “They’re friends of mine. What would you like to drink? You need to loosen up.”

  “A glass of Chardonnay would be great.”

  “Who’s your little friend, Rissa?” a man said from behind, tapping Marla on the shoulder.

  She whirled around, bristling at his form of address. “I’m Marla Vail. Who are you?”

  A sheen of sweat covered the man’s forehead. Clearly, he’d imbibed a few drinks too many. He was a heavyset guy with slick black hair and a condescending smirk on his jowly face.

  “Nice to meet you, darlin’. I haven’t seen you here before, or I’d have made a beeline in your direction. I like your style.” His overt once-over made her feel grimy.

  “Thanks. My husband likes it, too,” she said, emphasizing the word.

  “That’s not a problem here.” Coming closer, he draped an arm around her.

  Marla shook him off. “I think you’re getting the wrong impression.”

  He chuckled. “So that’s how it is? The pretty newcomer plays hard to get. I like it.” His breathing deepened, and a lustful gleam entered his eyes.

  “Marla, here’s your drink.” Rissa slipped it into her hand before Marla even realized the woman had left her side.

  Her fingers gripping the glass, Marla tucked her arm into Rissa’s and walked away from the guy leering at her. “What’s going on here?”

  “It’s just a party, dear. Come, let me introduce you to those fellows standing alone.”

  Marla withdrew her arm. “I didn’t come here to meet men.”

  “Of course you did. You just need to relax.” Rissa’s gaze hardened as she tipped the drink in Marla’s hand. “Here, you need this. It’s okay. Everyone’s always nervous the first time.”

  “The first time for what?”

  Rissa didn’t answer. She dragged Marla over to a pair of men standing by the fireplace. “Boys, this is Marla. As you can tell, she’s new here. Maybe you can put her at ease.”

  “Sure thing, sweetheart.” The man wearing a cowboy hat grinned at her. “So where did Rissa find you? Are you another bored housewife from the neighborhood?” He and the other guy shared a loud guffaw.

  I’m not a housewife, loser. I own a business, and I’m married to a police detective, Marla wanted to say but didn’t. Instead, she wondered if Tally had ever been invited to a party like this and what had transpired.

  “You might say so,” she said with a ditzy smile. Playing along might garner her more information than appearing the outsider. “How did you guys come to be here? Are you friends of Rissa’s?”

  “I’d say we’re more fans than friends, wouldn’t you, buddy?” he asked his pal.

  “You got it.” The other guy waggled his brows at Marla. “We’d like to be your fan, too.”

  Rissa interceded before Marla could formulate a retort that wouldn’t get her in trouble. “Okay, you’ve met these two. Let me introduce you around.” Rissa hauled her over to a different group. Her grip was unusually strong as she clamped onto Marla’s upper arm.

  “Guys, meet my new friend, Marla.” Rissa released her. “Take a drink, luv. You’ll feel a lot better after you wet your throat.”

  Will I? Or is this drink designed to make me woozy and more suggestive?

  She remembered Dalton’s oft-repeated advice to his teenage daughter: “Get your own drink. Otherwise, you don’t know what someone else might put in it.”

  Marla glanced at a guy seated in the family room. He wasn’t wearing yuppie clothes like the rest of the bunch. Jeans and a sport shirt revealed a paunch and a hairy chest. His unshaven jaw and scraggly hair gave him an unkempt appearance. Yet the pair of men approaching him seemed deferential in their manner. As they engaged him in conversation, he morphed into a more authoritative figure with straightened shoulders and a stern glare.

  After listening a few moments and nodding his head, the scruffy man gestured to one of the women. A heated discussion ensued between him and the other guys. A jolt of familiarity hit Marla. Could they have met before?

  She felt her face blanch. Could this be the man who’d met Rissa in the parking lot on each stop of the tea ladies’ circuit? Was he the same person who’d tried to run her down?

  Stepping aside, she withdrew her cell phone and frowned at it as though reading a message. She turned on the camera and aimed it at the man on the couch. One of the other fellows passed him a wad of bills. Then he headed for the woman indicated earlier, whispered in her ear, and led her from the room. His companion looked disappointed. The couch potato consoled him with a few words. With a cheery grin, the second man set off to hunt new prey.

  Because that’s what purpose these women served, Marla realized, switching off her video and pocketing the phone. She dare not let the pimp on the couch notice her observing him.

  Moving on, Marla followed a couple of women toward the dining room where a buffet offered snacks. The girls giggled and chatted together as they grabbed plates and helped themselves to the food.

  A man who’d been stuffing olives into his mouth caught sight of her and sauntered over. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. When does your number come up, honeybuns?”

  Marla raised her glass to him and smiled. “I’m new at this game. How do I find out?”

  “Ask your boss. A sweet thing like you will be popular tonight.”

  “I certainly hope so. Rissa didn’t say anything about a number, though.” Did the men bid on the women? Was that how it worked?

  “Oh, she ain’t the boss, hon. I mean the guy in the other room. He sits on the couch like it’s his throne, b
ut this is his kingdom, after all.”

  “I thought the house belonged to Rissa and her husband. Where is he, by the way?”

  “Poor sop is out of town. Rissa stages these parties during his absences. The idiot has no idea what’s going on.”

  “So the man in charge … sorry, what was his name?”

  The potential john stared at her. “Don’t you know? Yuri would have screened you first before inviting you here.”

  “Rissa invited me.”

  “Oh, right. She does a great job as recruiter. No matter. I’ll cast my net for you anyway.”

  His slap on her bottom gave her the impetus to move away. “Thanks, I’ll look forward to it.”

  She found a bathroom, where she shut the door intending to dump the contents of her drink down the drain. Wait, would there be enough residue for Dalton to have the liquid tested if she brought the glass home? Then again, an item that big wouldn’t fit inside her purse. Maybe she could soak a cloth in the wine.

  A tray filled with paper guest towels gave her the solution. She stuffed one into the glass, swirled it around, and retrieved it before discarding the remaining contents in the sink. After wringing out the soggy paper, she wrapped it in a dry napkin and fitted it into a corner of her purse. Hopefully it wouldn’t get her other items wet.

  Now how could she make a graceful exit? Putting a loopy smile on her face, she opened the door and sashayed toward the dining room. She placed her empty glass on a side table and was approaching the front door when a hand on her arm stopped her.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Yuri demanded. The pimp spoke with a strong accent she couldn’t place.

  “I, uh, need something from my car.” She pointed to the front door, so close and yet frustratingly far under the circumstances.

  “You’re not leaving, are you? Because I’d hate to believe you were a tease.” The menacing light in his cold blue eyes told her she’d better comply.

  She yanked her arm free and gave a flirty laugh. “Of course not, darling. I brought along a few toys in case tonight got exciting. I need to get them, that’s all. I’ll just be a minute.”

  He signaled to a muscular fellow who hovered near the door. Marla hadn’t noticed him there before. “Ivan, this lady wants to retrieve some items from her car. Go with her, da? See that she returns and doesn’t try any tricks. The only tricks being turned tonight will be ours.”

  “Don’t worry; I won’t disappoint you,” she said in a sultry tone. “Come on, big fella. My car is parked at the curb.”

  Accompanied by the bruiser, Marla exited into the cool night air. She had to get rid of this guy somehow. Leaving the bright lights and loud chatter behind as she strode down the darkened driveway, she debated what to do. It would be handy to have a weapon in her purse like Dalton had advised her to carry, but she’d been resistant. Maybe she’d reconsider the idea in the future, if she had one.

  “Which car is yours?” Mr. Muscles demanded, his powerful form casting a shadow in the streetlight.

  “I parked down the road. There weren’t any spaces nearby.” Her heels clicked on the pavement. Wait, that was it. She did have a useful weapon on her.

  The white Camry was up ahead. Key in hand, she beeped the remote so the driver’s door would open upon contact.

  A few feet away, she stumbled and cursed. “Damn shoes. I’m not used to wearing high heels, but they make my legs look good.” She lifted her foot, took off the shoe, and whirled around to bash the bruiser’s nose with the point of her heel.

  As he howled in fury and pain, she sprinted to her car, threw open the door, and dove inside. A moment later, she’d shut the door and pushed on the ignition. As she put the car into reverse, she gained enough space to shift gears. She zoomed ahead onto the road.

  Marla didn’t dare to look back until she’d exited the gate at the development’s entrance. She made it to the turnpike in record time with frequent glances at the rearview mirror. Plenty of headlights came into view, but none of them seemed to stick on her tail. If Yuri figured out who she was, though, he wouldn’t need to have her followed. He’d know where to find her.

  That thought chilled her blood as she attempted to calm her racing heart. Her icy fingers gripped the steering wheel. At least she’d discovered Rissa’s secret. Had Tally found out as well? Did Yuri send someone to silence her? Or had he been personally present the night of the accident?

  Marla couldn’t wait to tell Dalton what she’d learned. When she got home, she flung her purse on the kitchen counter and accosted him on the family room sofa where he sat watching the history channel. The rest of the house was quiet, the baby and Brianna presumably asleep. Her dear husband had waited up for her safe return.

  She snuggled against his warm form and kissed him. “I’ve never been gladder to be home.”

  He turned off the TV via remote. “How was the party?” When she told him, his eyebrows drew together like gathering thunderclouds. “Good God, you barely escaped.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Look, I took pictures.” She got up, retrieved her cell phone, and resumed her spot to show him.

  “I’ll contact the vice department up there tomorrow. They might already have a lead on this guy. It makes you wonder how Rissa got involved in the first place.”

  “Maybe she was bored with her husband being out of town so often. Bridget was there, too. She belongs to the tea circle.”

  “And the other women? Did they look like hookers?”

  “Not necessarily. They looked like typical wealthy Boca Babes.” She gave a snort of derision. That lifestyle would never suit her.

  “Hmm, I recall hearing something along these lines before.” Dalton got up, paused to put on the house alarm, and headed into their home office to use the computer.

  Marla went to get changed, eager to wash away the remnants of the evening. Once comfortable in her cold-weather jammies, she padded in slippers into the room where he sat frowning at the monitor screen.

  “Listen to this,” he said, pointing to the display. “A Boca Raton police officer’s wife was accused of running an illegal escort business as a front for prostitution. The investigation was initiated when a woman from Peru claimed she had been forced to sell her body for money. She was told that if she didn’t perform, she’d face deportation.”

  “Rissa doesn’t run an escort service, and the women present tonight were not foreigners.” Marla tapped her chin in thought. “It’s possible she started her tea ladies’ group to recruit affluent housewives. Like her, those members are looking for some extra spice in their lives.”

  Dalton clicked another link. “Here’s a case from Central Florida. An upscale prostitution ring there brought in half a million dollars per year for a woman and her partner. They hid the cash in storage units.”

  “It’s a lucrative business, that’s for sure. Do you suppose Rissa works for Yuri, or are they in it together as partners? How do they launder the proceeds?”

  “Yuri might have the connections.” Dalton squinted as he scanned the data on the screen.

  “You mean, as in organized crime?”

  “You said his name is Yuri, and he speaks with an accent. His henchman is Ivan. I’m wondering if the Russians have moved into the territory. If so, it’s possible their operation is already under investigation. I’ll find out and let you know.”

  “It’s too bad I didn’t do a complete search of the house. I’ll bet Rissa has hidden cameras in the bedrooms. Then she could blackmail the women into continuing to work for her. They might think it’s a lark the first time, and then they’re trapped.”

  “I shouldn’t have let you go there on your own.”

  “Nonsense, it was my decision. I got away, so things turned out all right.” Her shoulders slumped with fatigue, but tension kept her too alert for sleep. She couldn’t help ruminating about the near miss she’d had. “I could use a glass of wine. It’ll help me relax so I can stop replaying tonight’s scenario in my mind
.”

  “I’ll come with you into the kitchen.”

  “Wait, that reminds me. I soaked a napkin in the drink Rissa handed over. Would you be able to have the lab analyze it? I’m betting she added something to make me cooperative.”

  Dalton shut down the system for the night and rose from his chair. “Sure, I’ll drop it off tomorrow. How deeply do you think Tally was involved?”

  “I doubt she’d be unfaithful to Ken, not even if she believed he was having an affair. Maybe she got wise to Rissa and threatened to warn the other women in their group.”

  “Are they all potential candidates for recruitment?”

  “Edie doesn’t have the figure for it. As for Deanne, she’s very body-conscious. I don’t think she would do anything harmful to her health.”

  “It’s likely Rissa uses the group as a front to choose which individuals to approach for her lucrative side business.”

  “Then she rounds them up at a house party to snag them into her net.” Marla had to admit the tea circle leader had the talent to guide women down the wrong path. She would never have guessed Rissa’s secret on her own.

  “I hope you were cautious enough in getting away so this Yuri fellow doesn’t come after you.” Dalton accompanied her toward the kitchen.

  “Rissa thinks I’m married to a security expert. If she tells Yuri, it might warn him off. You’d think he would steer clear of me then.”

  “Oh, yeah? She invited you to the party for a reason. They could have hoped to entrap you, thinking the resultant blackmail would ensure your silence.”

  “If so, they failed. Assuming you’re right, I must have spooked them somehow. I’d wondered if Yuri might have been driving the car that tried to run me down, but he didn’t seem to recognize me. I suppose he could have sent Ivan to do the job.” She halted as another thought surfaced. “Maybe Yuri targeted Tally in a similar manner. He thought she knew too much about his operation and sent Ivan to deal with her.”