“The man is Yani Verkovich, but I’ll bet he’s more than a client. You could tell they were close just by watching them together.”
“You mean they were friends outside of business?”
“Intimate friends, if you know what I mean.”
Cutter and Yani? She’d always suspected her instructor was gay. Apparently, it was obvious to others. “Why are you telling me this?”
The woman ran stiff fingers through her spiked yellow hair. “Cutter has been acting strange lately. Like, it’s getting tough to work with him, man. I’ve been here for five years, and I’ve never seen him so hyper.”
Marla glanced inside the shop, but Cutter had disappeared into one of the back rooms. “What do you think is bothering him?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.” The girl’s dark eyes studied her. “He talks on the phone a lot to this Yani dude.”
Not anymore. An image of the man’s body materialized in her mind. What had he been doing in Goat’s house? “Did you ever catch anything they said to each other?”
“I don’t normally listen in to other people’s conversations, doll. Maybe they were having, like, you know, a lover’s spat?”
“So you think Cutter’s tension stems from personal problems.”
Here was a witness corroborating that Cutter knew the dead man. But how did her neighbor enter the picture?
Jax shrugged. “I don’t know why else Cutter would get upset when Yani called. Where did you meet the guy?”
Marla moved aside as a couple of tourists charged past. “As I told Cutter, I met him through my neighbor. Have you ever seen your employer with a fellow named Goat? He’s a scrawny sort, likes to wear Hawaiian shirts with a sheepskin vest. Has straw-colored hair and a sparse beard. Imitates animal noises.”
“Man, he sounds weird.”
“He’s different, that’s all.” A pang of sorrow pierced her heart. She missed Goat’s unique presence in the neighborhood. He’d danced to a jingle whenever she saw him, and she realized now that his antics had brightened her days. If she hadn’t been so hesitant, she would’ve gotten to know him better. Shoulda, woulda, coulda. Regrets bind you to the past. They wouldn’t help her find Goat now. Presumably Jax had never encountered him.
“Jax, can I have your number in case I need to call you? I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”
The woman tugged on her tank top. “I don’t know. This is still a good place to work, if Cutter would get his act together. I don’t want to get in no trouble.”
“Here’s my card, then. If anything else comes up, please give me a call. I may be able to help.”
“Why are you here, anyway, asking about this Yani dude?”
Marla gave a casual smile. “I recognized his highlights pattern and hoped Cutter would teach me his technique.”
“Ha! Cutter is a great educator, but there are some secrets he keeps.”
No kidding, Marla thought as she strode away. Glancing at her watch, she noted she just had time to stop at the Palm Haven police station on her way to the salon.
Vail rose from his desk chair when she entered his office. “Marla, I thought you went to work.”
She sauntered up to him and kissed him boldly on the mouth. “I just couldn’t stay away from you,” she answered, pressing her hands to his chest.
His eyes gleamed darkly. “Yeah, right. Why do I get the feeling you have something to say that I won’t like?”
He seemed so overwhelmingly tall. Maybe it was her flat-heeled shoes, and the fact that they were standing so close together. An inner warmth stole into her veins as she sniffed his spice cologne.
Tilting her chin, she stroked his clean-shaven jaw. “Now, Dalton, isn’t it enough that I can’t wait until this weekend?”
She felt his response as their bodies touched, his arms tightening around her. “If you’re trying to distract me, you’re succeeding too damn well. How am I supposed to do my job?”
“I have information that will help. But, first, did you locate Goat?”
“Hell, no. I just got back to the office twenty minutes ago.”
“Find any clues in his place to who killed that guy?”
“I can’t discuss the details. You know that.”
“You also know you can trust me.”
Desire warred with duty in his expression. “This is bad business, honey. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I’m worried about Goat. He might be in trouble.”
“That’s an understatement.”
Her mouth gaped, and she stepped away from his embrace. “You didn’t find evidence that he…murdered Yani Verkovich, did you?”
“Who did you say?”
“I found out the dead man’s identity. Or should I say, his presumed identity. I visited Cutter Corrigan.”
“Who?”
Great, she’d reduced him to monosyllables, too. “He’s the hairdresser I’d mentioned who used to be my beauty school instructor. Cutter is known for his distinctive highlights design. I stopped in at Heavenly Hair Salon on Las Olas. I didn’t tell him his client was dead, only that I’d seen him recently. Cutter got upset and wanted to know where I met the man.”
Vail rolled his eyes. “I knew it. You’re screwing things up again. Interviewing people before I get to them is not recommended, sweet-cakes.”
“Another stylist told me Yani’s name and confirmed he was Cutter’s client,” she plowed on, disregarding his remarks.
“In the meantime, you raised a red flag in front of Cutter,” Vail said, drawing his brows together. “If he is involved, you may have put yourself in the line of danger. Or, at the very least, he’ll be forewarned when I see him.”
“I got the impression he doesn’t know Yani is dead.”
“In that case, he may blab about your visit to his friends, one of whom could be the perp. Gossip flies in your business, doesn’t it?”
“Well, yes, but-”
“You should’ve let me handle it.”
“You never told me how Yani was killed, assuming you confirm his identification.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but just then the phone rang.
“Lieutenant Vail here.” Listening, his eyes widened. “Brianna, what do you mean, you’re bleeding?”
Chapter Three
“Brianna!” Vail yelled as they stormed into his house.
Marla hadn’t let him go home alone. She’d accompanied him, nightmarish thoughts crawling through her mind. As he reset the alarm, she noted with relief that his house security hadn’t been breached. Their golden retriever, Lucky, barked a loud greeting and slobbered over Marla’s knees. The dog’s ruckus should have been enough to scare away intruders.
“Honey, where are you?” Marla cried.
“I’m in my room,” Vail’s daughter called, her voice sounding as nonchalant as though she’d phoned asking if she could go to the mall.
“Why isn’t she in school?” Marla asked as they pounded down the hallway, the dog bounding excitedly at their heels.
“Teacher workday. What the hell happened?” he demanded, halting in the doorway to Brianna’s bedroom.
Marla peered over his shoulder. Brianna’s wide brown eyes regarded them with scorn. She lay on her bed, dark hair in a ponytail, a towel wrapped around her slim body. Another towel, streaked with blood, lay heaped on the rose Berber carpet. Apparently, she’d been reading, because a book rested spine-up on her stomach.
“I cut myself in the shower. I’m sorry if I scared you, but I didn’t know what to do. It stopped after a while. I put a couple of Band-Aids on.”
Vail’s jaw thrust forward as he stomped into the room. “What do you mean, you cut yourself?”
Brianna glanced toward a poster of Brad Pitt on the wall. “I was shaving my legs.”
“Shaving? Like with a razor?”
Marla smiled as she grasped the situation. “What else do you use to shave? Your daughter is growing up.”
Vail’s bushy eyebr
ows grew so close together, Marla felt an urge to give him a trim. His massive form seemed to swell as he folded his arms across his chest. “You’re not allowed to shave yet,” he told his daughter in a brusque tone. “You’ll be thirteen next week, and that’s still too young.”
“All my friends shave their legs!”
“Like who?”
“Like…like Melissa, and Amy.”
“That’s not everyone.”
“So what? I don’t want to be the only one who looks like a dork.”
Swinging her feet over the edge of her bed, Brianna sat up. “You treat me like a baby. You have to face the fact that I’m getting older.”
Her towel slipped, and Marla caught Vail gulping convulsively. “Put some clothes on. You’ll get sick if you lie around like that,” he ordered.
“That’s another thing,” Brianna whined, her face screwed into a pout. “I need to go shopping for a few things. Marla, you tell him.”
Startled, she stared at the girl. “What do you mean, honey?” When Brianna glared back, silent, Marla’s cheeks warmed. “Oh. Yes. Uh, Dalton, perhaps you’d let me go with Brianna one afternoon?”
“I can get her whatever she needs. What’s that on your cheek?” he queried his daughter. “Did you scratch yourself there, too?”
Brianna tilted her chin defiantly. “Not quite.”
He peered closer. “Don’t tell me you were putting on lipstick.”
“So what if I was? You act like I’m two years old! You won’t let me do anything. Everyone I know hangs out at the mall.”
“Yeah-where all the predators are waiting to grab you.”
“Get a life, Daddy.”
“I will not have you using makeup at your age so you can attract men!”
Feeling a surge of sympathy for the preteen, Marla touched his arm. “Dalton, these are things only a woman understands. There’s nothing wrong with-”
“She’s my daughter!” he thundered. “Don’t tell me what to do. She’ll have plenty of time to grow up, as she calls it. I don’t believe in rushing things.”
“May I speak to you a moment in private?” Taking his arm, Marla directed him into the living room. “You don’t have one ounce of understanding for what a teenage girl requires,” Marla said in a hushed tone when they were out of range.
“Teenagers require discipline; otherwise they get into trouble. Brie isn’t ready, for all she thinks she is. Maturity comes with age.”
“Shaving your legs and learning how to apply makeup has nothing to do with maturity. Those are just a matter of grooming.”
“That’s just the start. Next thing you know, she’ll want to go out with boys.”
“Holy highlights, you’re really uptight. I agree that she is too young to date, but you can’t keep her tied down forever,” Marla said. “With proper supervision, a little more freedom might help teach her to make the right choices.”
“Like you know how to raise a child?” he sneered.
She recoiled as though he’d slapped her. “I didn’t come here to listen to your insults; I’m only trying to help. I think it’s best if you take me to my car.”
“Gladly.”
Marla strode down the hallway. “Brianna, if you want to talk later, call me at home.” She glanced at the brooding expression on Vail’s face. “That is, if you’re allowed to use the telephone.”
“Thanks, Marla. I will.” Brianna, a sullen look on her face, collected her jeans and shirt and headed for the bathroom. “At least I cleaned up the mess I made in there, Daddy. You should reward me.”
“Ha! You’ll spend the rest of the day on your homework, young lady.”
“I’m glad I realized how narrow-minded you are before things got more serious between us,” Marla said after a tight-lipped journey to the police station. “I thought you wanted me to become involved in your daughter’s life. You let me take her to ballet class, and we were just beginning to really get along. Now you disregard my advice like it has no value.” She drew in a deep breath. “You have some serious problems, Dalton, and I feel sorry for your daughter. But until you’re willing to listen, don’t bother calling me again.”
She shut the passenger door gently, resisting her urge to slam it closed. Blinking rapidly, she stalked to her car. This rotten day has just gotten worse, she thought, feeling as though a weight had settled in her stomach. What more could go wrong?
“Hey, Marla,” called Nicole as she shuffled into the salon. “Where have you been? You missed your twelve o’clock wash-and-blow. I was getting worried. You usually call if you’re late.” The cinnamon-skinned stylist gave her an anxious glance.
“I offered to do the lady, but she refused and left,” said Giorgio apologetically from his station across the room.
“Figures.” Marla smiled wanly at the handsome Italian. “I had a busy morning. Found another dead body, had my first big argument with Dalton. What’s a missed appointment compared to those?”
Her dejection must have shown, because Giorgio put down the hairbrush he was cleaning and hastened over to her. “What are you talking about?”
Nicole wasn’t engaged with a client at that moment, either, so Marla drew them together. “My neighbor Goat is missing,” she said in a low voice so the other operators wouldn’t hear. “Dalton Vail found a man’s body in his house. I recognized the highlights pattern on the victim.”
“You were there?” Giorgio’s dark eyes widened.
“I live a few doors down from Goat’s place. He’s the wacky neighbor I told you about who imitates animals. No one had seen him for a few days, and then Vail showed up at my door asking about him.”
“And you discovered a dead man in Goat’s house?”
She nodded. “I recognized his highlights. Only one master stylist is capable of that particular design. My former beauty school teacher, Cutter Corrigan. He has a salon on Las Olas.”
Giorgio’s eyes narrowed. “Did you tell the detective?”
“I did more than that. I spoke to Cutter myself. When I went to tell Dalton about our conversation, we were interrupted. His daughter needed attention.”
“Whoa, slow down, girlfriend,” Nicole said, her warm cocoa eyes radiating sympathy. “Did you learn anything from your former teacher?”
“Cutter revealed very little, but he knows something. Not that Vail appreciated my report.”
“What happened between you?” Nicole asked.
Marla told them about Brianna’s latest escapade. “Dalton implied I have no experience in child-rearing, so he won’t listen to my advice regarding his daughter.”
“No!” Giorgio exclaimed.
Her lower lip quivered. “That man is the most obstinate, domineering…I don’t know why I was ever interested in him. He’s way overly protective and refuses to compromise. I can’t deal with his hang-ups.”
Nicole’s glance fell to her right hand. “So why are you still wearing his ring?”
She twisted the gold setting holding a brilliant amethyst stone flanked by tiny diamonds. “It’s mine. Dalton gave it to me as a gift, so why shouldn’t I keep it?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Besides, I haven’t given up on Brianna. That poor girl needs a female role model to guide her.”
Nicole’s eyebrows rose. “And you’re offering for the job? I thought you didn’t like children.”
“You know how I feel about kids. After Tammy drowned…I can’t risk facing that kind of pain for one of my own.”
“Seems to me getting involved with Brianna will bring the same responsibility and risk. Vail probably fears for his daughter’s safety, and rightfully so. Remember, she almost got killed by that nut case in the athletic club last month.”
“How could I forget? It doesn’t condone his yelling at me. The man’s wife has been dead for over two years, and he still won’t let another woman into his life in a way that matters.”
Nicole planted her hands on her hips. “If you’re finished with him, then I’ll dye m
y hair green. You’re a sucker when it comes to needy cases, Marla.”
“You tell her,” pitched in Giorgio with a grin.
“Stow it,” Marla muttered. “Your one o’clock perm is here, Nicole.”
“We’ll continue this later.” Nicole blinked. “Oh, yeah. We have two applicants coming in this afternoon to talk to you about the stylist and shampoo assistant openings. They’re sisters: Jennifer and Joanne Cater. Jennifer has her cosmetology license and a few years’ experience under her belt. Joanne is graduating from Nova University as an accounting major. She needs supplemental income until she gets established.”
“Okay.” Marla shrugged and turned away. Hopefully, they’d be better candidates than the other prospects she’d interviewed lately.
“Wait,” Giorgio called, “you didn’t say if you located your neighbor.”
She turned her head back in his direction. “No one has seen Goat.”
“That’s too bad. Maybe-”
“I can’t talk now,” she said, interrupting Giorgio to greet the client who’d just walked in. “Hi, Abby. How are you?”
The tall brunette grinned. “Great, thanks. And you?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, selecting a royal blue cape from a drawer in her rollabout. “Have a seat and put this on while I get your solution. I’ll just be a minute.”
Marla didn’t subscribe to gossiping with staff members when a client sat in her chair. Customers deserved special treatment, and that meant they got her full attention. Part of her pride in her work derived from offering herself as a listener, providing support and encouragement. A warm glow filled her when patrons left feeling better about themselves and their appearance than when they’d walked in.
Giorgio followed her to the storeroom. “Did you hear about Louise Cunningham?” he said from behind her.
“Who?” Marla squeezed a tube of coloring agent into a bowl, then added developer and bleach. Abby was a level eight, so a Framesi level six should lighten her strands with an attractive auburn tint.
“Louise worked at Nina’s House of Style. I heard on the news that she was a hit-and-run last night.”
Highlights to Heaven Page 3
