You ‘d be up a creek, pal. Vail would have a field day searching your property. “That violates our constitutional rights. How did this mess get started?”
He hunched his shoulders. “As I understand it, a group of scientists and citrus industry representatives got together and recommended the nineteen-hundred-foot destruction radius.”
“So it was just an arbitrary decision to cut down all trees within that distance?”
“You got it. Through a series of court injunctions and appeals, we fought the state department over their right to cut down our healthy trees. The ball bounced back and forth between federal and state courts until an administrative judge found the directive for cutting down trees within the nineteen-hundred-foot radius to be too vague.”
“I don’t get it.”
“The original rule called for the destruction of exposed trees that were likely to harbor bacteria because they were near infected plants.” He snorted. “Imagine! They could declare the entire state of Florida to be exposed under that definition. Anyway, this hearing stopped the state from destroying more healthy trees. It meant the department had to hold public workshops in accordance with formal rulemaking procedures. We took advantage by filing a formal legal challenge.”
“So you halted the destruction.”
He grimaced. “Are you kidding? To circumvent the judge’s ruling, the Agriculture Department issued an emergency order that all trees within nineteen hundred feet of infected ones would be cut down. Supposedly, once you file something like this, you can act on it immediately.” He raked stiff fingers through his thin wheat-colored hair. “Those foxes used a phony agricultural emergency to get what they wanted.”
“So did they get away with it?”
“Hell no,” he retorted, pale blue eyes narrowing. “We filed a petition to challenge the order, saying it violated our constitutional rights. Look what happened to me: I wouldn’t allow the workers on my property, and I got arrested. Half those guys don’t even speak English. They invade our yards and destroy our trees without proper legal grounds. I’d had my citrus trees for years, and I grew attached to them like pets. I wasn’t about to allow some goons who work for the state to destroy them. You know what you get for it? A one-hundred-dollar Wal-Mart garden voucher for the first tree destroyed and fifty-five dollars per tree thereafter. That doesn’t compensate me for years of the best fruit you’ve ever tasted.”
You value trees over animals? You don’t seem to object to the experiments going on at your cousin’s ranch, if that’s what they are. “When people get sick, we don’t kill them or others within sneezing distance,” she said. “Healthy trees should be allowed to live, too. You’d think citrus growers would offer to compensate homeowners.”
“They don’t understand our viewpoint. All they think is, why should they let folks who own a few backyard trees threaten a multibillion-dollar industry? They may have gotten their law passed, but we aren’t through yet. Our constitutional rights as citizens are being abused.”
“So you’ve been active in organizing lawsuits against the state, and you’ve spoken at public workshops. Is that where you met Yani Verkovich?”
He scrutinized her expression, and she hoped her eagerness to hear his answer didn’t show. “Yani was one of the scientists involved in the testing program for the Agriculture Department. They called on him as an expert witness to testify in favor of the nineteen-hundred-foot rule.”
“How did you two grow so close if you started at opposite sides on an important issue?”
His eyebrows drew together. “I don’t see how that’s your concern.”
“Yani’s body was found at my neighbor Goat’s town house.”
“So?”
“Goat is missing. Maybe you know where he’s hiding, or why he’s running scared.”
“Maybe you should leave.”
“This appears to be a touchier issue for you than the citrus canker program.”
“Get out, Marla.” He took a few paces toward her.
She knew when her welcome had ended. Time for a tactic switch. Rising, she gave him a coy glance. “You can mail me your donation check if you still want to give a contribution to the Child Drowning Prevention Coalition. It’ll help get your salon some favorable publicity. By the way, I stopped over at our beauty academy. They’ve expanded tremendously. You’d be impressed by the new programs, but perhaps you’ve already been by for a visit. Virginia, the director, said she’d seen you at a hair show with a companion: a Latino with dark hair. Anyone I know?”
Grasping her elbow, Cutter steered her toward the front door. “Asking questions about me, were you? Remember, curiosity killed the cat, or was it a dog? Better watch your pooch.”
Her fingers curled. Touch my dog and you’re dead meat. She kept her voice level. “I talked to some other girls in my class about a reunion. I was just trying to track down everyone on the roster. Unfortunately, a couple of gals had met with accidents lately.”
“Like you when your car crashed,” he sneered, pinching her nerve point.
Her arm ached, but she gritted her teeth. “Wyeth Holmes was not on the list. Would you know what happened to him?”
He stopped abruptly, letting go of her. “Why do you bring up his name?”
She shrugged. “We didn’t part on the best of terms. Wyeth was mad at me and my friends for putting that solution on his head that made him go bald. He had a slight fuzz growing back when school finished. Did you ever find out if he regained his hair?”
Cutter’s face dissolved into an angry scowl. “Old business is best left to rest, if you get my meaning. Otherwise, the past can come back to haunt you…or worse.”
Was that a veiled warning? Marla pondered their conversation on her way back to the salon, where she wanted to make sure things were locked up. She didn’t understand the vibes emanating from her former teacher. You’d think any threats would come from Cutter and his cousin, Evan Fargutt. Was he hinting someone else menaced her? Surely not Goat.
Her brain addled with theories, she didn’t at first notice the folded newspaper at her styling station. When she reached to pick up a stray comb, her glance fell on the highlighted article.
Lori Snow, a Palm Haven resident, was the apparent victim of a freak electrocution. The mother of two, a hairstylist just back from vacation, received a fatal shock when she plugged in her curling iron at work. A short in the system was blamed for the accident.
Blood rushed to Marla’s face. Lori had been a member of her gang at beauty school. First Eileen McFee had drowned, then Louise Cunningham became a hit-and-run victim. Now she and Kenya Dobson were the only two left, not counting Wyeth.
Marla flew to the telephone. After looking up the number of Kenya’s salon, she dialed, but no one answered. She must have finished work for the day, meaning she wouldn’t be back until Tuesday. Darn! Rummaging under the counter, Marla scrounged for a directory and searched for Kenya’s name in the white pages. She had to be warned, but against what and whom?
Unable to find a listing, she shut the book and put it away. Her sense of personal jeopardy heightened, she wondered what to do next. What she lacked was a connection between the different puzzle pieces: her colleagues being knocked off, Yani’s death, Goat’s involvement, and Cutter’s scheme with his cousin.
Best to deal with those problems tomorrow. Right now, she had to get ready for a barbecue at Eddie’s house. Nicole’s boyfriend liked to entertain, and he’d invited the salon staff to his place for ribs and chicken.
Nicole is lucky she found someone who likes to cook. Now if only Eddie would be as committed to their relationship as he was to the outdoor grill, Marla thought while securing the salon.
She tried to empty her mind of the day’s events during her drive home, concentrating on what to wear for the evening. Her sense of caution made her glance into the rearview mirror more often, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
After taking Spooks out, she changed clothes and wrapped th
e barley and wild rice dish she’d promised to bring. Hopefully, tonight would provide more than a good meal in friendly company. Nicole was an avid mystery fan. Marla was hoping she’d offer some fresh insights on recent events regarding Goat and friends.
Seven o’clock found her knocking on Eddie’s door in Davie, where he lived in a single-story ranch home. He greeted her with a friendly smile that seemed a permanent fixture on his face. Eddie had curly black hair, puppy-brown eyes, and a short mustache. His colorful island shirt hung loose on his tall frame over a pair of faded jean shorts. A strong whiff of Old Spice wafted her way, mingling with the mouth-watering aroma of sizzling beef ribs.
Outside on the patio, Nicole rushed to greet her. The cinnamon-skinned beauty wore a flattering sarong dress and had braided her raven hair down her back. “Marla, I was afraid you’d be late. Where did you run off to this afternoon?”
Marla smoothed her belted black slacks. The air felt cool, as a light breeze stole under her royal blue blazer. “I went to see Cutter. I’ll tell you about it later,” she said, spotting other staff members mingling with the couple’s friends. “Did you by any chance leave a newspaper lying open on my station?”
“Not me.” Nicole gave her a curious glance. “Why?”
“Because someone wanted me to see a particular article. If it wasn’t you, who left it there?”
Nicole nodded at a passing acquaintance. “I don’t know,” she said to Marla. “What did it say?”
“Another stylist was killed, supposedly by accident. She’s the third one in my group from beauty school. There are two of us left.”
Her friend’s eyes widened. “You said someone at Cut ‘N Dye left this article for you to see?”
“It may have been a customer. Or maybe not. Anyone could have entered through that back door. I’m always forgetting to lock it during the day.”
“I’d have spotted a strange face.”
“Not if you were occupied.”
Nicole gasped. “You don’t think it’s one of us? That new shampoo girl, Joanne, or her sister Jennifer? They’ve only been working with us a couple of weeks.”
The new staffers had been invited to the party. Marla glanced in their direction, reluctant to believe someone from her salon could be involved in a conspiracy against her. It happened before, remember? You can’t trust anyone. The women were flirting with two men not of Marla’s acquaintance.
Maybe her rival, Carolyn Sutton, was trying to scare her. She might have paid one of these gals to leave that news article on her chair.
Marla clenched her fists. She wouldn’t put it past Carolyn to plant people to spy on her, but damned if she’d become paranoid. She trusted her own judgment to a good extent, and she liked the Cater sisters. They just couldn’t mean her any harm.
Then again, another possibility entered her mind. Maybe the article had been left on her chair as a friendly warning, not as a threat. Could Goat be in the vicinity, keeping an eye on her? If so, she wished he would turn himself in. Surely Vail would find a way to protect him from the killer still on the loose.
When she had the opportunity, Marla brought Nicole up to speed on the case. She related her conversation with Cutter, her trip with Vail, and her growing fear that she might be a target for an unknown murderer.
“It’s very strange,” Nicole agreed as they sipped Bahama Mamas on the patio. “I don’t understand how these events are connected. One thing I can tell you: your friend Goat probably has all the answers if you could only locate him.”
“I’ll bet he left Siesta Key after he was spotted. I have a feeling he’s closer at hand. But why won’t he reveal himself? Who or what does Goat fear?”
Chapter Fourteen
Marla spent most of Sunday catching up on housework, doing some food shopping, and visiting Miriam Pearl. She described her exploits to the old lady, who delighted in her adventures. They’d become close friends after Marla helped solve her granddaughter’s murder a few months ago.
“What are you going to do next?” the matriarch asked, as Marla pushed her wheelchair along a shaded path on the family’s extensive estate. Miriam reached up a bony hand to fluff her newly set hair. Marla always gave her a wash and blow-out when she came.
“I’ll let Detective Vail find Goat. I’ve been away from the salon too much, and it’s time for a staff workshop. I like to do them once a month. Besides, this week is Passover, and I have to get ready. I need to take care of things on the home front.” Not to mention friends like Tally who required attention. That didn’t even count her problems with Dalton, or Ma trying to push Barry on her.
“What are you doing for the seders?” Miriam asked.
Marla sniffed the pine-scented woods that surrounded them. “We’re having our big family gathering on the second night. I’m going to my friend Arnie’s house for the first night. His girlfriend, Jill, is setting things up. It was nice of them to invite me.”
“You’re always welcome here. Barbara and the kids are flying in later this week.”
She heard the note of sadness in Miriam’s voice. “You must miss them terribly.”
“I don’t blame them for leaving after what Morris did. My son got what he deserved.”
“You still have Stella and Florence.” Not that Miriam’s daughters were much use. See what happens when you interfere? You wrecked this entire family structure by investigating the granddaughter’s murder. If you would let Vail do his thing alone, you wouldn’t feel so responsible.
Marla tightened her resolve to mind her own business later that afternoon when she took Spooks for a walk. Someone was taking an unhealthy interest in her activities, and if she stuck to her own affairs, perhaps they’d back off.
A shiver snaked down her spine. She couldn’t disregard what had happened to the other three stylists. Regardless of her desire to end her participation in Vail’s case findings, she might not be able to withdraw so readily.
Spooks pulled on his leash as he caught a whiff from the next lawn. She stood by patiently, admiring a cluster of brilliant crimson and fuchsia impatiens while he did his business. The cool air was redolent with the scent of orange blossoms. Overhead, few clouds disturbed the clear March sky. Her thoughts turned to Goat, who’d never returned to water Moss’s flowers as promised. Her shoulders sagged with discouragement at the lack of progress in locating him.
“Come along, precious,” she said to Spooks. Emotion clogging her throat, she crouched to pet him. He lapped at her hand, grateful for the attention. She found comfort in snuggling against his warm, silky coat.
“Hey, Marla.”
She jumped upright, whirling to regard Hector bearing down on her. “Hi, what’s up?” Her gaze darted nervously down the street.
“Haven’t seen you in a while. Everything okay?”
“Sure. How’s Amada?”
“Muy bueno, thanks.”
He stepped in front of her path. Dark hair, with Latin good looks. That’s how Virginia had described Cutter’s companion at the hair show. Hector fit the bill perfectly, except he didn’t have a cosmetology license. Cutter would know how to get around that problem.
Spooks sniffed Hector’s ankles, growling ominously. “Uh, did you want something?” Marla’s pulse raced, her flight-or-fight response activated against her will. Surely she had nothing to fear from her neighbor in broad daylight. She was getting paranoid.
Hector jerked a hand toward Goat’s house. “Anything new in the detective’s case? Goat still hasn’t come home.”
She followed his gesture. “As far as I know, our neighbor is alive and well but is eluding the authorities. Lieutenant Vail is checking out the victim’s relatives and acquaintances. Why? Did you have something to add?”
He kicked at a stone on the sidewalk. “I’ve heard a motorcycle around here lately. No one in the vicinity owns one. I wonder…I mean, I hope whoever killed that guy doesn’t think we know anything important.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re scared he’l
l come after you?” She laughed mirthlessly. “And I thought you had something to hide.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You had a grudge against Goat. His sister told me all about it.”
His brown eyes widened incredulously. “She knew?”
“She told me how you’d blamed Goat for the ants invading your yard because he wouldn’t use pesticides. So you put granules out and one of his cats died as a result. He responded by dropping tarantulas into your window.”
Hector’s mustache quivered. “You’re right, senorita. He had no right to refuse the exterminators. It’s part of our homeowners’ agreement.”
“Normally, they just spray inside.” She reined in the dog’s leash. Spooks tugged at the other end. “I assume you got rid of the spiders.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear my wife shriek. I decided right then, that lunatic was a menace to our community. He kept snakes, noisy parrots, and farm animals which you could smell from our backyard. I reported him.”
She had no idea this feud had been going on right under her nose. So much for her powers of observation. “What happened?”
“He got cited for a code violation. I was so mad, I wanted to run him out of town.”
Looks like you’ve succeeded, pal. Or someone else did it for you. Giving a resigned sigh, Marla asked a loaded question. “Were you acquainted with Yani Verkovich, the dead man found in Goat’s house?”
“No. Why? Should I be?”
“Well, if a person wanted to get rid of Goat, framing him for murder would do the trick.”
“You…you think I would stoop to something so low?”
His furious expression made her take a step back. “I didn’t say I suspected you,” she hedged. “It’s just as likely Yani wasn’t the actual target. Maybe the killer made a mistake.”
Highlights to Heaven Page 15
