Died Blonde

by Nancy J. Cohen

  She needn’t have worried. Once her playmate was inside, Lucky docilely trotted toward the front door. Shutting them both inside, Marla completed the errand for which she’d paid such a high price. Paw prints marred her shorts, necessitating a trip later on to the cleaners and at least a five-dollar tab.

  After a quick trip to the bathroom to scrub the dirt off her skin, Marla hunted for Vail to confess her mishap. No wonder he hadn’t come chasing after her. He sat outside on the patio engaged in an intense discussion with her mother, confirming Marla’s impression that Anita’s demand had been a ploy. Yikes, was Ma asking him what his intentions were? Embarrassment warred with resignation. They might as well let Anita in on their unofficial announcement if she didn’t already know.

  Sam had occupied himself by quizzing Brianna about her school activities and schedule. Marla had noticed him admiring the teen and couldn’t fault Brianna’s manners in front of company. It made her proud to see how much the girl had mellowed since they’d first met.

  “You’ll consider what I’ve said?” Anita asked Vail upon Marla’s approach.

  “Definitely,” he replied in a firm tone. His pewter gaze caught Marla, bringing a flush to her face. “We’re talking about you.”

  “No kidding.” She tossed the sweater to her mother. “Anything I should know about?”

  “I told Ma we were thinking of getting married.”

  Ma? Since when did you get so familiar? “Oh.”

  Anita’s eyebrows soared. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. It’s not official anyway until you get a ring.” Her face broke into a smile. “Just don’t make me wait too long.” Rising, she strode to Marla and hugged her, whispering into her ear, “I want you to be happy.”

  Stepping back, Marla regarded her mother warily. “Would it be okay if Dalton and Brianna join us for Rosh Hashanah dinner? It would be a good way for him to meet more of the family.” And for him to taste our different culture, she added silently.

  Anita’s expression brightened. “Delightful idea. We don’t have a police officer among us,” she told Vail. “You’ll be the first. Our relatives are doctors, accountants, lawyers. As a detective, I bet you’ll get all sorts of interesting questions.”

  Now you’re ready to brag about him, when before you told me hooking up with a policeman would lead to heartache? Marla curbed her sharp retort, addressing Vail instead. “Sorry to tell you this, but the dogs got out and messed up your tomato plants. I’ll pay to replace them if necessary.”

  Vail waved the offer away. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Hey, want to catch the weather report?” Sam asked, weaving in their direction. “My place is near a lake, and I may have to secure my boat if the winds get any stronger.”

  “You have a boat?” Marla glanced at his arms, which weren’t frail like the typical old man’s but rather sinewy from a lifetime of physical labor. He must have hammered a few nails into those homes he built, she surmised.

  “Just an old rowboat,” he stated casually.

  “Where do you live? Lakefront property is always more expensive.” She could have bitten her tongue after the words flew out, but Sam didn’t appear perturbed.

  He lifted a hand in dismissal. “It’s not one of those artificial lakes. I got a good price for substantial acreage.”

  “Is that so? In which development?”

  His eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you’d know the name. It’s not in Palm Haven.”

  “Marla, can you take me to ballet on Tuesday? Daddy has to work late,” Brianna said from behind.

  Marla swung around, annoyed at the interruption just when she was getting Sam to talk. “Your class might be canceled if we have a hurricane warning. Why don’t you call me in the afternoon?”

  Sam gave Brianna’s ponytail an affectionate yank. “This one will break a lot of hearts when she gets older. I can see it coming.” He gazed down into the teen’s eyes. “Someone ought to teach her how to behave toward a man.”

  “She’s a little too young for that,” Marla said, shouldering him aside and putting her arm around the girl. “Don’t you have homework to finish?”

  Brianna pouted. “I have to make a phone call first.”

  “Don’t clog the line,” Vail warned her, passing by with an armload full of dirty table linens.

  Anita, following on his heels, wagged her finger. “You may want to consider adding a second phone number. When Marla was her age, she talked nonstop. She’d wake up with a hoarse voice every morning.”

  “Really?” Vail threw Marla an amused glance.

  “Yeah, and now I don’t have time to say two words on the telephone.”

  They congregated in the kitchen, while Sam veered into the family room to watch the weather channel. “Ma, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to get you and Sam together. We don’t know enough about him,” Marla cautioned her mother in a low tone. “If you like being with Roger, then I won’t interfere. Your happiness is what’s important.”

  Anita kissed her cheek. “Thanks, bubula, but I think I can make up my own mind. I like Roger, but it doesn’t hurt to keep my options open. You, on the other hand, will disappoint his son when you announce your engagement. Do it soon, so you don’t keep Barry dangling.”

  “I never led him on. He’s just a friend.”

  “That’s not the relationship he wants. Heed my advice.”

  When she got home later, Marla remembered Vail’s advice to bow out of Carolyn’s case rather than risk endangering herself. Opening the garage-door entrance to her house, she deactivated the alarm before following Spooks inside. Emptiness yawned before her in contrast to the lively activity at Vail’s place. Rather than appreciating the solitude, she missed Vail’s company. Not his exhortation to absent herself from any further involvement in Carolyn’s affairs, though. She had a few loose ends to tie up on her own.

  Monday morning brought nasty weather, so it was just as well she was forced to change her plans. A phone call to Wilda dashed her hopes of visiting the medium that day; Wilda’s machine answered. Nor was Wilda at Hairstyle Heaven. The salon was closed for Labor Day, and Marla didn’t know how else to reach the psychic. What’s more, the holiday prevented her from revisiting Dennis Thomson and the chiropractor as she’d hoped to do. But at least she didn’t have to worry about the hurricane destroying the rest of her workweek. True to the forecasts, a high-pressure ridge turned the maelstrom out to sea, though it left South Florida with outlying patches of storm cells.

  A nagging need to do more research on Carolyn’s obsession led Marla to the computer this morning. Fascinated by the subject of Victorian mourning customs, she read how widows from that era had to wear black attire with a “weeping veil” of black crepe during the first, stage, which was one year plus one day. Queen Victoria decreed that only black jewelry could be worn during this deep-grieving period. Popular materials for the jewelry included black enamel, onyx, black glass, vulcanite, and jet, a type of fossilized coal that came from Whitby, England, where it washed up on shore.

  In the second mourning period, which lasted for nine months more, widows lifted their veils back over their head. Half-mourning came next for another three to six months, during which women employed more elaborate fabrics as trim for their clothing.

  During these second and half-mourning periods, jewelry made from human hair, gold, and guttapercha adorned the ladies. Guttapercha, a natural latex obtained from evergreen trees in Asia, was the first known plastic material ever used for costume jewelry.

  Hair art became popular during this time. As far back as the Egyptian age, pharaohs and queens had exchanged balls made from hair as tokens of everlasting love. Now hair became regarded as a symbol of life, and the fashion of incorporating it into jewelry spread throughout Europe. Weaving hair from a loved one into knot designs for a brooch was the most popular practice, but rings, bracelets, earrings, watch fobs, and necklaces with hair all became common during the latter portion of the century. In England, mour
ning pieces included semiprecious stones in gold settings. Garnets were particularly well regarded. Marla discovered that much of this antique jewelry was selling today for significant prices.

  When did Carolyn start collecting the stuff? Marla wondered. Did it make her feel more worthy because she owned these valuables? How did she pay for them? From her bingo earnings? Or were they gifts from a lover?

  Frowning over her keyboard, Marla pondered how to find more information. Picking up the phone, she dialed Tally’s number at home. Ken told her Tally was working at the boutique doing inventory. He didn’t sound pleased.

  “Any chance of us getting to a bingo game within the next few days?” Marla said after dialing the shop number.

  “I’m too swamped,” Tally replied in a weary voice. “I have my new winter line coming in this week. Maybe you’ll stop by and choose some outfits before I put them on the racks.”

  Marla tamped down her disappointment; she’d have to visit the casino alone. “Let me know when the clothes arrive. I liked that brick red blazer in your catalog.” She paused. “How are things between you and Ken?”

  “So-so. He’s still nagging me to cut my hours. It’s not such a bad idea. I wish I could find decent help to give me some relief.”

  “I’m in the same boat. I don’t trust anyone to handle things when I go away for more than a few days.”

  “You have Nicole. She does a good job.”

  “True, but: I’ve never left her in charge longer than four days, and that’s usually when I’ve gone to a hair show. Gosh, I wonder if Dalton will want to go on a honeymoon. It’s something we haven’t discussed, but then again, he’s always busier than I am.” Too late, she realized she’d let the cat out of the bag. “Whoops, I didn’t say that.”

  “You sneak! Has he proposed?” Tally squealed.

  “Well, yes, although we’re not telling anyone yet. I mean, I haven’t exactly accepted. We’ve looked for a ring, but, you know, I want to make sure I’m doing the right thing before we make a formal announcement.”

  “Marla, I’m so happy for you. Holy smokes, we’ll have to celebrate. I’ll plan a party. This is too exciting.”

  “Hey, wait. It’s unofficial, okay?”

  “Brianna must be thrilled.”

  “We haven’t told her. Look, just keep it to yourself for now, all right? You can tell Ken, but that’s all. In case one of us changes our mind.” She wouldn’t have a chance to back out once her friends and relatives had mentally tied the knot.

  “That won’t happen. You’re meant for each other. Opposites attract, don’t you know?”

  Marla heard a click on the receiver. “I’ve got to go; I’m getting another call. Look, if you get a night off this week, contact me. Rosemary Taylor knew about Carolyn’s collectibles, plus she had a key to Carolyn’s place. I’d like to ask her if she ever ran into our landlord there.”

  Pushing the FLASH button, Marla answered her other call. Speak of the devil, Rosemary’s voice squeaked from the other end of the line.

  “Marla Shore? It’s Rosemary Taylor, Carolyn Sutton’s friend. Remember? You met me at the bingo parlor? You said I should call you if I remembered anything important. Well, I did.”

  “Go on,” Marla said, gripping the handset tightly.

  “I recognized that person who’s watching me. I saw him leaving Carolyn’s apartment once. She’d mentioned they had a hobby in common, and she wanted to show off her collection.”

  “Her antique jewelry?”

  “That’s right.” Rosemary’s voice crackled with urgency. “He must be working for them. I told you they were on to me. Then I saw that article in the newspaper, and it got me to thinking. What if she was one of us? I mean, hired to snoop them out like I was? They did away with her, and now I’m next.”

  “Whoa, Rosemary, you’ve lost me.”

  “You read about that girl who was killed?”

  “I thought you were investigating the tribe,” Marla answered. Rosemary’s ramblings were confusing her more than ever.

  “Yes, but don’t you see? This thing is about to break wide open, and I’m in the middle of it. He knows what Carolyn told me. Hair today, gone tomorrow. Get it?” Her delusional cackle raised goose bumps on Marla’s flesh.

  “You’re not making sense,” she said in a soothing tone. “What did Carolyn tell you?”

  “She used cash from her salon to play bingo, then she took her winnings and bought herself baubles,” Rosemary said, sucking in a raspy breath. “Foolish twit. Why didn’t that voodoo lady warn her against buying stuff belonging to dead people?”

  “Did Wilda know about her antique jewelry?”

  “No, just me and…one other.”

  “Carolyn’s boyfriend?”

  “Carolyn used men; she didn’t date them. She should have known about him, though. I’m surprised that psychic didn’t foresee what was coming. Maybe Wilda works for them. I can smell a phony a mile away, and I’ll tell you that woman never told Carolyn anything she didn’t already know for herself.”

  Marla gritted her teeth in frustration. This conversation was dancing in circles, hinting at important data but never quite exposing it. How could she get Rosemary to focus her thought processes? “Who were Carolyn’s so-called male friends?” she tried, aware of the edge of desperation creeping into her voice.

  “You already know some of them. That’s why I called. If he’s onto me, you may be in danger, too. He’s seen us together.”

  “Can you give me a name?”

  “The details aren’t important. You have to—what’s that noise?” Her tone sharpened. “There’s nobody in the next room, but I hear…Hello?”

  “Rosemary, wait.” Marla’s heart thudded in her chest when she heard the clunk of the receiver, a few seconds of silence, then a distant cry.

  Listening intently, she caught a faint rhythm of breathing at the other end. Her blood chilled when she realized someone had lifted the telephone. Then a click came, followed by the dial tone.

  With trembling fingers, Marla pushed the FLASH button and punched the code for Vail’s cell phone. His deep, masculine tone responded, reassuring her.

  “Do you know where Rosemary Taylor lives? She’s Carolyn’s bingo partner,” Marla reminded him. “I think she’s in trouble.” Quickly, she repeated the gist of their conversation.

  “Stay home and lock your doors. I’ll send a patrol car to Taylor’s place.”

  “Call me,” she requested before cutting their connection.

  Several hours passed while she waited for Vail to get back to her. After tidying her house, she reheated leftovers for dinner but ended up gnawing on her fingernails and sipping coffee. A soft knock on her door around eight o’clock brought her flying to the foyer along with Spooks who barked excitedly.

  “It’s me,” Vail said unnecessarily when she spied him through the peephole.

  Turning off her alarm, she opened the door. His grim expression floored her.

  “Rosemary?” she croaked.

  Stepping inside, he nodded. “You were right, she was in trouble. Someone got to her before we did.”

  Marla’s hand flew to her mouth. “Omigod.”

  “I need you to repeat everything she said in her telephone conversation to you.”

  Her feet frozen to the ground, Marla stared at him. “She knew someone was coming for her. I should have called you right away. Instead, I-I tried to get more information from her.”

  “Why do you always think everything is your fault?” Vail’s strong hands clasped her shoulders. “Get a grip, Marla. I need your help.”

  His haggard face told her how tired he must be. “Yes, of course. Have you eaten dinner? Oh dear, Brianna is home alone again, isn’t she? I’m sorry, it’s thoughtless of me. I should have gone over there.”

  “You do enough already; Brie is safe. It’s you who worries me.” Trailing her into the kitchen, he sank into a chair at the table. “I’m starved,” he admitted, scraping stiff fingers th
rough his hair.

  Marla prepared a plate of leftover brisket with macaroni and cheese and heated it in the microwave, handing the dish to him along with a bowl of prepackaged salad.

  Working in the kitchen made her feel better. She didn’t want to learn the details of what he’d found at Rosemary’s place. That was the stuff of nightmares. In her mind, the dead woman’s words flashed like a cattle brand: If he’s on to me, you may be in danger, too.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Marla found it difficult to focus on work Tuesday morning; her thoughts kept returning to events from the night before. A sense of urgency swelled within her. As though she’d acquired Wilda’s psychic powers, she sensed bad vibes in her future.

  “There must be a correlation between the killer’s behavior and Carolyn’s hair jewelry,” she said to Nicole during a break. “Rosemary said she saw a man leaving Carolyn’s apartment who shared an interest in the same hobby. Maybe he makes jewelry out of the hair he collects from his victims. Serial killers often take souvenirs.” Was that what they were dealing with here? She’d assumed Carolyn had been murdered by someone with a personal vendetta, but maybe this wasn’t the case.

  “At least you know the killer is male,” Nicole replied, sipping a Diet Coke at the next station. “That eliminates Wilda and Carolyn’s sister. Have you asked Claudia about the immigration attorney and that other man, Atlas Boyd? You said he knew about Wilda’s prediction.”

  “I’ll stop by Hairstyle Heaven today to see what else turns up. I still want to find out why Mr. Thomson frequented Carolyn’s salon, but he won’t be back in his office until tomorrow. His wife said he takes a lot of business trips.”

  “So?”

  “Maybe he does more than survey land deals on his jaunts.”

  Nicole gave her a doe-eyed look. “Speaking of trips, I thought you meant to go to Cassadaga.”

  “I haven’t had time. Sunday, Ma came over to Dalton’s house for a barbecue. We invited Sam, but now I’m not so certain that was a good idea. I really don’t know much about him, even though he seems all right.”