I’m not doing this because I care about you, Carolyn. I’ll help Vail wrap this case only so he can spend more nights at home with Brianna. She didn’t like for the girl to be alone while Vail worked late. Marla felt compelled to keep his daughter company, or at least to check on her often. Anger made her clench the steering wheel on her white Camry. Even in death, Carolyn was managing to interfere with her life. Go haunt someone else, Marla thought, sucking in deep breaths of air to calm her nerves.
She never liked visiting Mr. Thomson, especially after he’d tried to force her out of her lease. For an instant, Marla considered her ex-spouse, Stan, as a possible suspect. He’d offered to back Carolyn financially in order to ruin Marla’s business. But Stan had no reason to block her path now, not after she’d acquired his half of their jointly owned rental property.
When no one answered the knock on the locked door to Mr. Thomson’s business address, she glanced at the plaque listing office hours. Drat, she’d forgotten about his limited schedule. When she’d made arrangements to deliver her rental checks, he’d mentioned this was a branch of his larger holdings. Debating whether to seek the landlord elsewhere, she decided against it. He’d be here Monday; she could visit him on her day off and pay the rent for September at the same time.
Meanwhile, Marla considered what she’d tell Vail tonight. She had a movie date with the detective and his daughter, assuming he could get away from work. They hadn’t spoken lately, so she hoped to learn his progress on the case.
During the week she fixed dinner or brought take-out for Brianna when Vail wouldn’t be home early. Otherwise, she stayed at her town house, preferring privacy to relax and catch up on bookkeeping chores. Friday nights, she and Vail had a standing date, as well as all day Sunday, and she usually slept over on weekends. Vail wanted her to move in permanently, but Marla wasn’t ready for that step yet. She had her own key to let herself into his house, and that had been a big enough concession on both their parts.
/ hope Dalton isn’t too disappointed that I won’t have anything new to add, she thought on her way back to the salon. It wasn’t her responsibility to investigate, nor did she care to offer encouragement to Carolyn’s staff. This was one occasion where she preferred to mind her own business.
Her mother had other ideas when she breezed into the salon for her afternoon appointment. Following on Anita’s heels were her rotund boyfriend, Roger, and his son, Barry. Marla groaned when Barry gave her a sexy grin. The optometrist wasn’t fazed by the knowledge that she slept at Vail’s house. Probably Anita kept encouraging him, because she’d be thrilled if Marla married the Jewish bachelor. Having already fulfilled family obligations in that regard, however, Marla felt no further duty to comply.
“Marla,” Anita said, marching toward her station, “did you see what those people from that other salon did when I got out of my car? They could tell I was heading here, and one of them rushed over and offered me a deal if I tried their place.”
Marla clenched her fists. “Those schmucks have done that before.”
“It was some skinny broad with a funny accent,” Roger said in his booming voice. “You know what I told her? Zolst geshvollen veren vi a barg!”
“It’s not nice to tell someone to swell up like a mountain,” Marla chastised him. “She was probably following Carolyn’s orders.”
“Carolyn is dead.” Anita’s brown eyes, matching Marla’s own, flashed imperiously.
“Who’s running the place?” Barry cut in.
“No one yet.” Marla’s glance swept from his curly head of sandy blond hair, to his warm blue eyes, and down his length, noting his cotton shirt, jeans, and boots. Recently addicted to westerns, he’d adopted their mode of dress outside the office. He looked pretty good in the role, she had to admit.
Anita leaned forward, giving Marla the opportunity to critically study her white hair, badly in need of a trim. “I thought Dalton had recruited you to talk to people.”
“I can’t bring myself to visit Carolyn’s salon. Claudia has gotten enough of my free advice. I should start charging her.”
Anita’s mouth pinched, and Marla recognized she was in for a lecture. Glancing at the wall clock, she turned to Barry with a sweet smile. She had to get rid of him and his dad before Sam waltzed through the door. “I thought you’d be at work today.”
Roger stiffened, bringing into prominence a grease spot on his carrot orange jacket. That meshes well with your avocado pants and ruddy complexion. I see Barry hasn ‘t convinced you to change your wardrobe. Ma didn’t mind; color blindness affected her where Roger was concerned.
“We’re catching a flight out of town and wanted to say goodbye,” Roger said. “My aunt passed away, and I’m her closest relative. I’m taking a few weeks to settle her estate. Barry has agreed to help me and called his patients to postpone their appointments. I know you’ll miss him, doll.”
“Gee, I’m so sorry,” Marla lied.
Roger gave her an affectionate punch on the arm. “Be good to your mom, you hear?”
“Right. Bye,” she said, eager for them to leave. While she considered Roger to be downright obnoxious, she liked Barry, though only as a friend. He didn’t seem to understand the “only as a friend” part. He kept trying to insinuate himself into her life, much to Vail’s annoyance.
“Now, dear, tell me what’s going on,” Anita said after she’d been shampooed.
Marla settled a cape around her mother’s slim shoulders. “I spoke to Sam Levy. He’s a nice gentleman who works in the hardware store. Remember, I mentioned him to you?”
“I think so.” Anita scrutinized her painted red nails. “Is your manicurist free? I could use a touch-up.”
“We’ll check after I’m done with your haircut.” Examining her mother’s layers, she decided to give her a bit more lift. Marla had similar fine hair, which she wore in a short brunette bob. “Anyway, Sam told me that Carolyn was into some kind of spiritual nonsense. I don’t recall her being interested in that stuff when I worked for her, so this must be a fairly new development.”
“Once a fruitcake, always a fruitcake, that’s what I say. She was meshuga when you labored on her payroll. She didn’t know how to be good to people then, so why change?”
“Maybe she had a revelation and wanted to redeem herself.”
“I doubt it. Doesn’t Vail know who inherits ownership?” Anita asked. “Maybe you can make a deal to take over management duties.”
“Are you kidding? I’d be nuts to support another salon a few doors down. Why do you think I’ve been avoiding going in there since they opened? I’m hoping they’ll fold.”
Gripping a pair of shears, she glanced at the front door as the chimes rang. Oh no, here comes Claudia again. Won’t that girl ever give up? Through the window, she noticed Sam approaching with a purposeful stride. The silver-haired man halted, greeted Claudia at the door, then pushed past her after a brief exchange.
A flash of light reflecting off metal diverted Marla’s attention.
Watching from the parking lot with a scowl on his long face was their landlord, Dennis Thomson.
Chapter Three
“Marla, is that your beautiful mom? I can see the resemblance, although she looks more like your sister,” Sam said with a shy smile.
Marla caught her mother’s pleased glance in the mirror. “Ma, this is Sam Levy. He used to be in the building business up north. Now he works part-time in the hardware store.”
“Just call me Mr. Fix-it,” Sam teased, holding out a callused hand.
Anita gave him a shake; then he stood back so Marla could finish trimming her mother’s short white layers.
“About that extension cord you ordered,” Sam said, winking, “what length did you want?”
Marla realized he was offering an excuse for his visit. “Oh, yes, I’ll come get one later.” In the mirror, she caught a glimpse of Claudia directly behind, arms folded across her chest. “What is it this time?” she demanded.
&nb
sp; The dark-haired woman pouted. “I have come to give you important information, but you are rude to me. Or maybe your detective friend already told you.”
Marla raised her arms in defeat. “Ma, I’ll be right back. Talk to Sam in the meantime, will you?” Placing the scissors on the counter, she whirled on her heels and gestured at Claudia.
Outdoors, the August heat penetrated her pores. In just a few minutes, her sleeveless top stuck to her back like plastic wrap. The rich smell of humus hung in air so heavy with humidity, she could almost squeeze the moisture from it. Shielding her eyes, she avoided the sun’s glare that bounced off the pavement like desert sand cooked under a broiling sky. She glanced for relief to the west, where storm clouds accumulated to gather strength for their pending onslaught. Marla enjoyed the daily race against time when thunderstorms threatened to unleash their fury before she got home.
She’d forgotten about Mr. Thomson, but he had disappeared. He must have gone into one of the shops. If she was lucky, she would catch him later.
“Where are you from?” she addressed the young woman abruptly. Although Marla was taller than Claudia, her low-heeled shoes were no match for the stylist’s towering sandals. The girl beat her by a good two inches in height.
“Je suis Francaise…I am French. From a small city beyond Paris.” Claudia wore one of those tiny flowered tops that looked like a scrap of material but came from one of the higher-priced boutiques. Marla had seen the European fashions in her friend Tally’s store, Dressed to Kill.
“Were you a hairdresser at home, or did Carolyn pay for your training in the states?”
“I don’t see why that matters.”
“Someone subsidized her, or else she took out a loan. I’m unable to fathom how Carolyn could’ve afforded to move otherwise. The director at my beauty school said she helped certain students pay their tuition. Where did she get the funds?”
Claudia spread her hands. “I came to offer information, not to be questioned. The policeman has already spoken to me.”
“Well, he hasn’t shared his findings.”
Claudia’s eyebrows lifted. They were thin almost to the point of absenteeism. A dark pencil gave her an artificial arch. “Madame said you were lovers.”
“What else did she say about me?” Marla couldn’t help herself. She still resented Carolyn, even in death.
“Madame generously gave you your first job, and you were ungrateful,” Claudia replied, sniffing. “You left without giving notice, stealing her stylists to open your own place in direct competition with Carolyn’s salon. You did your best to ruin her and forced her out of town.”
“That’s a bunch of lies!” Marla’s blood seethed. “She was a terrible employer, always criticizing. She’d raise her voice in front of customers, threatened to fire us. When I got enough money from my divorce settlement, I decided to leave. Some of the other girls asked if they could join me; it wasn’t my initiative.”
“Madame believed otherwise.”
“So why have you been coming to me for advice?”
Claudia kicked at a pebble. “We need guidance. Our new owner knows nothing about the salon business.”
Marla’s ears perked up. “Is Carolyn’s sister in charge?”
“Linda is not the heir, at least regarding Hairstyle Heaven. Madame left ownership to Wilda Cleaver, the ghost lady. She was Carolyn’s psychic friend.”
“Interesting.” Sam had mentioned a spiritual adviser. She wondered if Vail had followed this lead.
The stylist turned an imploring gaze on her. “Please, mademoiselle, I know Carolyn had not been kind to you, but she felt betrayed. Surely you would not take your anger out on us poor working girls? This wild woman does not know how to manage a salon. You can advise her. We do not wish to lose our jobs.”
Why should I care? Despite her reluctance to get involved, Marla disliked seeing colleagues in distress. She could always suggest to this Cleaver person that they relocate the salon.
“Send her in to see me, and I’ll talk to her. That’s all I can promise. Is she there now?” Marla glanced inside the salon. She still had to finish her mother in time for the next customer, although Ma seemed to be happily chatting with Sam. At least that had worked out well.
“Non, the lady will be in next week. I’ll give her your message.” Claudia pumped her hand in gratitude. “Until then, may we borrow some developer? We’re nearly out.”
Marla winced. “When’s the last time someone took inventory?”
“That was Carolyn’s job.”
“So now it is Wilda’s responsibility, and she’ll have no clue what to look for. Bless my bones, I really don’t have time for this.”
“Make time,” was what Vail said to her that evening when they were on their way to see the latest James Bond movie with his daughter, Brianna. She sat in the front seat of his roomy sedan while Brie lounged in the rear, rocking to music playing from her headset.
“I have enough to do without worrying about your case,” Marla protested, crossing her ankles. She’d changed into a sundress, carrying a sweater for the air-conditioning. Thunder rumbled in the distance, but the cloud bank edged the sky too far away to pose any immediate threat. Nonetheless, she’d brought an umbrella, a necessity during the hurricane season.
“You’re not alone in disliking Carolyn Sutton, so I could use your help. People tell you things they won’t reveal to me.”
“I meant to speak to our landlord,” she conceded. “I’ll catch him next week. Did you learn anything about Carolyn’s finances?”
“She’s had some bank deposits that we’re looking into and a series of regular withdrawals, but nothing outstanding. The sister gets whatever’s left after her estate settles, minus the salon.” He gave her a quick glance, warming her skin and making her nerves tingle. She liked the way he’d parted his hair to the side and yearned to fluff it through her fingers. “Why don’t you give her a call? I’ll give you Linda Hall’s number.”
“What for?”
“Express your condolences, see if she’ll tell you anything new. You know, draw her out. The funeral is Sunday.”
“So? I’m not going.” She gave him a playful look. “If I recall, you used to warn me against interfering in your cases. Maybe I should ask for a deputy badge. There’s a cute officer on your team who might be happy to oblige me.”
“Yeah, Marla,” Brianna chipped in. “Go for it.”
“No way, lady. You’re my territory.” Vail patted her thigh, glancing at the amethyst ring she wore on her right hand. It had been his gift for Valentine’s Day, her birthday.
Marla thrust his hand away before he distracted her train of thought. They’d been careful to confine their lovemaking to her town house, using his home only when Brie slept over at a friend’s place. She still felt awkward about their showing affection to each other in front of the teenager.
“Have you interviewed Carolyn’s guru yet?” Marla asked Vail. “What does she do, anyway, predict the future? I’ll bet Carolyn paid her a tidy sum to look into the crystal ball. Maybe Wilda told her that moving back to Palm Haven was good karma.”
“Cleaver has her own theories about Carolyn’s death. She gave me a bunch of mumbo jumbo, but I’m wondering about her motives. It’s likely she took advantage of the victim.”
“Carolyn could’ve discovered she was a charlatan,” Marla mused. “What kind of reputation does Wilda have?”
Vail snorted. “She has a following. I spoke to a couple of women. They were both fiftyish, looking for something to relieve their boredom, in my opinion. If anyone is missing a spark plug in her mental engine, it’s the medium.”
“Now you’ve aroused my curiosity.”
His eyes smoldered. “Is that all? I’d hoped for more.”
“Marla, why don’t you talk to these people?” Brianna suggested. “You always find out more than Daddy.”
Like I don’t have enough to do: maintaining a household, running my salon, and keeping Ma from drivi
ng me crazy? “I don’t mean to change the subject, but did I tell you Ma met Sam Levy, the guy from the hardware store? He’s such as sweet man. I’d like to fix them up, especially now that Roger is out of town.”
Vail shook his head. “You’re happy to play matchmaker, but you won’t settle down on your own.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Life with Stan left me with a bad taste for settling down. You should be happy I’m trying to keep my nose out of your affairs for a change.”
“You’re closer to the people who knew the deceased. She met someone in the meter room…someone who turned off the power to your salon. Maybe Carolyn wasn’t the intended victim.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sutton may have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The intruder might have been after you.”
Marla stared at him. “That’s providing she’d been murdered. Anything you want to share with me?” Like cause of death? When he shook his head, she continued. “I doubt Carolyn had many friends. She took too much pleasure in demeaning other people. If you counted those of us who aren’t sad over her death, I’ll bet you could form a line.”
“Prove it to me.”
“Huh?”
Brianna snickered. “He’s got you, Marla. Give him a list of everyone who hated Carolyn.”
Challenged, she took the bait. “All right. I’ll show you who had reason to want her dead.” She rattled off some names of people Carolyn had offended. “Justine Welsh must be one of them. I remember the day Carolyn reduced her to tears in front of a customer. Then there was Andy, the shampoo assistant, who Carolyn docked every time her hair washes took too long. Carolyn said time was money, and so the poor girl hardly made anything. Carolyn made plenty of enemies. I was just lured there as a patsy. If anyone else were in charge of the investigation, I’d be a suspect as well. Assuming someone plotted to kill Carolyn, we’ll find out who did it and why.”
Died Blonde Page 3
