Died Blonde

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “I knew a lot about her,” Marla hedged. “I believe the detective said her neck had been broken.” You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, doctor?

  A moment passed before he spoke, while he lifted his hands from her body. “I’m not supposed to reveal patient confidences, you understand, but since you were a friend of hers, and Carolyn isn’t here anymore, I guess it won’t matter.” Avoiding eye contact, Dr. Hennings helped her into a sitting position. “When Carolyn started coming to me, she needed treatment for a neck problem, like you. She’d been stressed out by a court case involving her former partner.”

  Marla, dangling her legs over the edge of the table, gave him a sharp glance. “What partner?” Could this be Carolyn’s benefactor, a silent partner?

  “Peg Krueger used to own an interest in her salon. They ended up in court when Peg accused Carolyn of swindling her. The case dragged on for years but finally came up for trial.”

  Sliding to her feet, Marla faced him. “What happened?”

  “All I know is, Carolyn wasn’t happy about the outcome. Unfortunately, other people had to pay for her mistakes.” He spoke bitterly, as though he’d been personally affected.

  “I see. Is there anything you’d like to add? Detective Vail is in charge of Carolyn’s case. He stops in at my salon from time to time. I’d be happy to pass along any information you think would be useful.”

  His gaze chilled. “Enough said for now. You can make an appointment for your follow-up treatment.”

  “Well, thanks for your time, Doctor.” She twisted her neck from side to side. “Hmph, it does feel better.”

  Outside, she strolled through humidity so thick you could almost drink it. She must’ve just missed an afternoon shower. Puddles flooded the asphalt as she headed for her Camry. Lost in thought, she wondered how she could trace the Krueger woman. Maybe Vail already knew about her, in which case, he hadn’t mentioned it to her.

  Vowing to ask him when they got together again, she concentrated on driving home. Solving Carolyn’s murder was the detective’s chore. Better for her to concentrate on their relationship.

  Maybe I should ask Wilda what to do in that regard. Counseling people is what she does, aside from her healing sessions.

  Yeah, right, her other inner voice answered. Don’t fool yourself. You prefer crime investigation because it distracts you from personal issues.

  “Has Peg Krueger’s name come up in your investigation?” Marla asked Dalton on Saturday. Proud that she hadn’t let slip to her mother anything about their status the previous evening at services, she regarded the homicide officer across their table at J. Alexander’s restaurant. Brie had wanted to stay home and watch a movie on television, so it was just the two of them.

  “I spoke to her.” His gray eyes glinted. “Krueger said she’d put that episode behind her. I didn’t get the impression she was hiding anything, but you can talk to her.”

  “Did she put up the money Carolyn needed to move to Palm Haven?”

  “No, this is something that happened ages ago, but it took a long time to get to court. When Carolyn opened her first salon, she and Krueger invested together. According to her former partner, Carolyn booted her out and took over the business. Krueger has been trying to get repaid with interest for the amount she contributed.”

  “Would the grudge she held against Carolyn have led to murder? Whatever happened to the medical examiner’s report?”

  Vail stiffened. “No question it’s a homicide. Somebody knew what they were doing.”

  “Dr. Hennings studied anatomy. Have you found out anything about him?”

  “I’m looking into his practice.”

  When Vail’s face folded into a frown, Marla realized that was all he’d say concerning the chiropractor. Maybe Anita knew someone with an ailment he’d treated. No doubt a repeat visit was in her future. Her muscles knotted just thinking about Carolyn.

  “I wish I knew if Wilda Cleaver was on the level. Nobody I know is sick, but she implied one of my relatives or close friends is ill. Oh, no.” A thought struck her with unpleasant connotations.

  “What?”

  Marla spotted the waiter heading their way with salads and held her silence until he left. “Tally and Ken have been trying to get pregnant. Well, you know what I mean. Something doesn’t seem to be quite right between them, or at least that’s the impression I’ve been getting. I hope she doesn’t have some disease that’s affecting fertility.”

  “Emotional reasons can be just as much of a deterrent.”

  “Nonetheless, I’ll speak to her about it. She’s probably gone through a battery of tests already.”

  “There may be nothing wrong that a long vacation together wouldn’t fix.”

  Stabbing her fork into a piece of lettuce, she gave him a scrutinizing glance. “Are you speaking from experience?”

  His wry grin stole her heart until she heard his subsequent words. “Pam had some trouble. We saw a specialist, and he helped us. When we were least expecting it, she conceived.”

  “Oh.” Marla chomped her salad, swallowing it past a lump in her throat.

  Leaning forward, he grazed her mouth with his glance. “Now that you’ve grown to care for Brianna, have you thought about having one of your own?”

  Choking, she coughed. “No way.”

  “You used to be afraid of losing a child you loved. You’re taking that risk now. Don’t you know the quote: ‘It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”

  Putting down her fork, she shook her head. Strands of hair brushed her face. “I’d be terrified.”

  “You’d be a better mother because of what you experienced. Do you believe you’re not responsible enough to be a parent? Tammy’s drowning was an accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Tell her parents that and see what they say.”

  His lips compressed. “Give yourself more credit. Look at the tremendous progress you’ve made with Brianna. She asks for your advice, likes you to take her shopping, respects your job.”

  “Yeah, and if anything happened to her, I’d be a basket case.” She truly had become very fond of the girl.

  “Can you imagine the age difference if we had a child? Brie is thirteen. We’d have a built-in sitter for our baby.”

  Oy vey. That wasn’t the life she’d envisioned for herself. His proclamation made her want to run home.

  “Aren’t you rushing things?” Marla asked.

  His lazy gaze surveyed her body. “Sweetcakes, just the thought of making a baby with you sends me into hyperdrive. When do you think you’ll be ready to set a date?”

  Chapter Nine

  Sunday morning found Marla looking forward to confiding in her mother when Anita came for dinner. She hadn’t given Vail a direct answer on when to set a date for their nuptials other than to promise it would be after he solved Carolyn’s case. Although she needed to get that load off her shoulders, it also served as a convenient excuse. Or maybe she was just waiting for him to present her with an official engagement ring, relieving her of any decision. After their night of lovemaking, no doubt remained that they belonged together; it was merely a matter of working out the details. But definitely a discussion about having children was in order. Marla figured caring for Brianna would be enough of a responsibility; she still wanted space to further her dreams, which didn’t include childbearing.

  Before they’d even begun barbecue preparations at Vail’s house, Anita called Marla on her cell phone.

  “You’ll have to forgive me, bubula, but I have to cancel dinner for tonight. I’m not feeling too well.”

  Alarm frissoned up her spine. “What’s the matter?”

  “My head feels like it’s going to explode. It must be my blood pressure. I’ll go down to the drugstore and get a free reading. I’ve been feeling out of sorts lately, so I might need a change of medication.”

  “You didn’t say anything to me on Friday.” Working in Vail’s kitchen to
make breakfast, she put aside the kiwi she was slicing and dried her hands on a towel. She cradled the phone on her shoulder.

  Vail glanced up from the table where he labored on a crossword puzzle from the Sunday newspaper. He’d started the coffeemaker and squeezed fresh oranges from a farmer’s market for juice. She knew he still felt bad about losing his citrus trees to the state agriculture crews, but it didn’t stop him from taking advantage of Florida’s sunshine crop.

  “I didn’t want to worry you,” Anita replied in her singsong tone. “I’ll be all right, but I’m not up to a dinner party. I’d like to enjoy myself when I see your beau’s house for the first time.”

  Great, now she’d have to get hold of Sam Levy and postpone their plans. “Okay. Should I come over?”

  “Don’t bother. You have so few days off; I’m sure you have a lot to do. I’ll put in a call to my doctor if my pressure is too high.”

  “I’m seeing Aunt Polly today. I could swing by your place.” Polly and Anita lived about ten minutes apart.

  “I might be napping. I’ll phone you later.”

  Her mother’s weary tone made Marla cut the call short. Now what? She surveyed the kitchen, strewn with breakfast ingredients and implements. Guilt urged her to rush to Anita’s house, but she’d promised Brianna an omelet. They had to go shopping for school supplies, then Marla planned to visit Aunt Polly. Resolving to cruise by her mother’s, she tacked on a stop at her town house to get Anita’s spare key.

  Spooks licked her ankle. While he liked staying at Vail’s home to play with the detective’s golden retriever, the poodle resented any attention she paid to the other dog. Sparing a few minutes to scratch him behind the ears, she murmured endearments.

  The phone rang again, this time for Vail. Shortly thereafter he left for the station. The body of a missing fourteen-year-old girl had been found. Disturbed by this news, Marla cleaned the kitchen while breakfast for the teenager turned into brunch. In the meantime, she located Sam and postponed their dinner plans.

  “Th-that’s okay.” Sam almost sounded relieved. “I’ve just gotten a load of mulch for my yard, so I’ll keep busy here.”

  “We’ll make it another time,” she promised.

  Her restlessness grew until Brianna woke, well past noon. Reheating the omelet, she discussed which mall they should hit.

  “It sucks that tomorrow is the first day of school,” Brianna said after they finally got started on their shopping tour.

  Regarding the girl’s profile as she sat in the car, Marla felt a twinge of anxiety. With her clear complexion, toffee ponytail, and minimal makeup, Brie radiated the picture of innocence. Feeling a surge of protectiveness, she smiled gently. “I would think you’d want to go to school to be with your friends.”

  “Yeah, but I have Mrs. Strickland for history this year. I heard she’s a tough teacher, and that’s my worst subject. Mr. Rodriguez for Spanish is the same as last year. If you do bad on tests, he lets you make it up with special projects.”

  “What else are you taking?” Marla asked. If she were the girl’s mother, she’d probably have her schedule memorized.

  “English with Miss Jackson. I heard she assigns a lot of reading. Mr. Moore is pre-algebra; he hangs out at the teacher’s lounge and hits on the pretty women. Then there’s science with Mrs. Fox. She’s okay if you don’t mind her buggy eyes and that she sneaks cigarettes outside during lunch break.”

  “I’m glad my school days are over.”

  Brianna looked at her. “It’ll seem strange coming home tomorrow when no one is there. You wouldn’t be getting off work early, would you?”

  Marla gripped the steering wheel. “I’m off on Mondays, remember? I have some errands to run, but I’ll show up in time to throw something together for dinner. You can fill me on your day then.”

  “Why don’t you stay over tonight?” Brianna said, her offhand tone not fooling Marla.

  “I have my own things to do.”

  “Are you and Daddy getting married?”

  Marla gaped. “Where did that come from?”

  “I don’t know. He seems happier lately, and he’s always mentioning you. I thought maybe you two had talked about it.”

  Marla heard the wistful note in her tone. “It would be a big change for me. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be with you and your father. But I’m uncomfortable in your house. I’d have to leave my place, and I’d probably rent it out, but where would I put my things?”

  She couldn’t quite bring herself to confess that it was Brianna’s mother who inhibited her. Call it negative energy, using Wilda’s terms, but Pam’s ghost, or at least her family’s memories of her, filled that house. “I’d want us to start over,” she blurted. “That would mean you’d have to move, too. It’s probably too much to ask.”

  A hurt look entered Brianna’s young eyes. “What if we pack away a lot of stuff, and Daddy lets you redo the kitchen? I know you hate it.”

  “It’s not only that; it’s the bedroom. You know, he and your mother slept there, and that bothers me. Even though I want to honor your mother’s memory, I can’t help the way I feel. I’m not sure how we can get around this obstacle.”

  “Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Brianna quoted, jutting her jaw in determination.

  Admiring the girl’s resolve, Marla wished she saw a solution. Until one arose, she couldn’t give Vail a definitive answer to his proposal.

  Their awkward silence dissipated when they entered the Fashion Mall. Following Brianna through the Juniors department at Macy’s, Marla gritted her teeth with impatience. A couple of hours breezed by while the teen searched through scores of blue jeans, tops fitted for stick figures, and lingerie that Marla wouldn’t have been allowed to wear at her age.

  At the makeup counters, Brie hesitated. “I need some advice,” she said, her ponytail flicking as she turned her head toward the Chanel display. “I don’t know how to line my lips. Mostly, I use a gloss, but I’d like to learn how to use lipstick. I can’t get it right.”

  Examining the contours of her mouth, Marla smiled. “I usually advise people to cover their lips with foundation when they’re putting on their base makeup. Then use a lip liner to carefully draw your new lip line. Be careful not to make your mouth too small or you’ll look like a geisha, or too large so you look like a clown. The lip gloss is fine for someone your age. Glamour did a survey regarding what guys like on women, and lip gloss was in the top ten.”

  “Can I buy some polish?” Brianna pointed to a metallic blue.

  “At these prices? I don’t think so. We’ll go to the beauty-supply place where I get a discount. Come on, it’s late, and I have to go see my aunt.”

  After dropping Brianna off, Marla transferred Spooks to her town house, where she freshened up, grabbed a snack, and collected Anita’s key.

  “I should get a key to Polly’s place,” Marla growled after pounding on Polly’s door at a condominium complex where all of the units looked the same. Depression settled over her like a curtain as she watched the elderly residents shuffle through their daily routine. It saddened her how many senior citizens were reduced to living in a small apartment, their proud accomplishments forgotten beneath the sands of time. Those whose grown children lived up North suffered loneliness just at a stage in life when their faculties were failing but a stubborn sense of dignity prevented them from seeking help.

  Fortunately, Marla had been able to assist Miriam Pearl, an old gal who had plenty of spunk despite her troubles. She’d spruced up Miriam’s hair along with her social life, getting her out of the house to meet her cronies at the mall. Miriam’s new nurse had started taking her to a senior activity center, too. She had Marla to thank for these changes. And solving the murder of the woman’s granddaughter had strengthened their relationship. She felt a wave of guilt about neglecting her own relatives. Why didn’t Polly answer the door? She banged louder, calling her name. At last she heard an answering reply. Moments later, the door swung open.
Polly glanced at her through spectacles held together with adhesive tape.

  “Eh? Is that you, Marla?”

  Marla spoke in a loud tone. “I was passing by the area and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

  “Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Don’t just stand there. Come inside.” Anita’s older sister plodded into her living room, scruffy slippers barely covering her feet. She wore a housecoat that snapped up the front, its hem hanging loose on one side.

  Marla’s glance rose inescapably to Polly’s scraggly gray hair hanging straight to her shoulders. Her aunt had split ends like you wouldn’t believe. Remembering that her purse contained a pair of shears, Marla wondered if she could convince the elderly lady to submit to a free trim.

  “Free” was the operative word as far as Polly was concerned. Hot, humid air worse than outside accosted Marla after she closed the door and pursued her aunt. “I can’t breathe in here. Don’t you have the air-conditioning on?” she croaked, gasping for air. Thrusting her purse on the dining room table, she veered toward the thermostat. Sure enough, it was turned to the off position. Lowering the temperature, she switched it on automatic. A comforting whoosh of cool air blasted the room.

  “Tanteh, how have you been?” Marla said, sitting on the lone sofa covered with a ragged sheet. A polished wood buffet table held family photographs while the rest of the furniture looked like garage-sale additions.

  “Eh, whassat you say? I’m too thin? Nonsense, girl, I’ve still got an appetite.” Suspicion narrowed her filmy eyes. “Did Anita send you to check up on me?”

  “Not at all. I haven’t seen you in a while and was wondering if you needed help with anything. Are you able to go food shop-ping?”

  “Huh?”

  “Shopping! Can you get food?” Realizing Polly had grown more hard of hearing, Marla shouted into her ear.