“Very good, honey. Have a seat. The fillets should be ready any minute. Shall we set the table outside?” Marla asked Vail. “It’s quite pleasant out here. Your backyard looks so tropical.”
“I had a landscaper come in after my citrus trees were chopped down.”
They transferred all the accoutrements for the meal to the patio. Vail cut some slices from a long loaf of Cuban bread, and Marla helped herself. Her head was beginning to float from the wine, and she needed something solid in her stomach. She slathered margarine on her bread while Vail dished out the salad. He brought the mashed potatoes and added some freshly microwaved asparagus.
“Let’s say Goat got his job through Wake Hollander,” Marla continued once the fillets were on the table. Vail had used a teriyaki sauce. Its delicious aroma made her mouth water. “Do you think he knew what was going on between Evan and Chang? From what you’re saying, I gather Wake is essentially a middleman.”
“It’s possible Goat learned about their trade in birds. I’m wondering how Verkovich got involved. My guess is, Chang introduced his colleague to Evan Fargutt.”
“I thought Yani’s relationship with Cutter led him to Evan.”
“Boy, is this confusing,” Brianna stated. “Marla, can I taste your wine?”
“Certainly not!”
“Lots of my friends drink. You should see what they do when their parents aren’t home.”
Marla smiled indulgently, not believing a word of what she said.
“Tell me about it, honey.”
“Brianna, you’re not doing anything against my rules, are you?” Vail snapped. “I’ll have to call your friends’ parents.”
“Better not.” Brie’s dark eyes twinkled mischievously. “Maybe I was exaggerating.”
Or maybe you just want more attention. Marla curbed her impatience to discuss Goat and instead queried Brianna about her schoolwork. While she listened, part of her mind continued to stew regarding Vail’s revelations. She presented her mental arguments after they’d cleaned away the dinner dishes.
“Lujan Chang is likely mixed up in operations that have nothing to do with Goat,” Marla concluded while slicing a lemon meringue pie Vail had defrosted for dessert. “If Chang has a connection to Evan through Wake Hollander, where does Cutter fit in? Or Yani, for that matter? They’re all linked in some manner that led to one man’s death and another’s disappearance. Not to mention the other stylists from my class. What do I and my classmates have to do with any of it?”
“You tell me,” Vail prompted.
“Goat collected articles on Martha Matilda Harper. That has to be the key. Maybe I’m on target with my theories about secret hair-growth formulas. Talk about a lucrative business! Whoever invents a way to stimulate new hair growth will be very rich.”
“I’d need more evidence to go with you on that one,” Vail said. “Anyway, I didn’t invite you here to monopolize our conversation with details about my case. Want to go out on Saturday?”
Marla was just as happy to change the subject. Her brain grew too befuddled by all the possibilities, and the wine added to the effect. She was finding it increasingly difficult to think straight. “Passover starts on Wednesday night. I don’t like to dine out during the holiday.”
“Why not?” Brianna demanded, helping herself to a second portion of pie.
At least the girl had a healthy appetite, Marla thought, glad that Brie didn’t starve herself for a slim figure. “We’re not supposed to eat products made from flour. That leaves out a lot of things in restaurants. I’m just more comfortable eating at home.”
“Okay, I’ll come to your place,” Vail announced. “Besides,” he added with a wink, “it’s your turn to cook dinner next. Brianna is invited to a party, so she’ll be sleeping over a friend’s house.”
They locked gazes, and she understood his unspoken promise. Her face heated with the awareness that the teen was watching them. “I’ll let you know. Let’s see what develops this week.”
Monday brought a new opportunity when Marla realized she was nearly out of dog food. “I’m sorry,” she told Spooks, who hovered at her heels. “I haven’t been paying much attention to you lately, have I? I have a few other errands to run. I’ll stop and get you a new bag of Science Diet.”
Bingo! A light bulb popped on in her head. She needed food for her pet. What better place to go than Animal Farm, where Goat went for his supplies? It couldn’t be considered snooping if she was going in there for a legitimate reason. A single visit wouldn’t put her in any danger, and she might learn something new.
Various smells and sounds assailed her as soon as she pushed open the door to the pet shop. She grimaced at the unhappy sight of dogs confined to cages. She’d bought Spooks at a poodle-breeding parlor, and he’d come complete with pedigree papers and photos of his parents. Pet stores were so distressing. She wanted to take home each of the pathetic creatures. Her eyes bulged when she noticed a birdcage holding a scarlet macaw with a price tag of fifteen hundred dollars. And she’d thought the five hundred dollars she’d paid for Spooks was a lot.
The owner fit right into the jungle motif with his safari clothes, squashed fisherman’s hat covering self-shorn hair, and his short, wiry figure. He’d been tabulating some figures by the cash register and glanced up at her entrance.
“May I help you?” he asked in a gravelly tone.
She sidled up to his counter. “Do you carry Science Diet?” Although the front of the store displayed an array of pets, she noticed rows of shelves holding supplies toward the back.
“Sure do.” His blue eyes squinted. “What kind?”
“Canine light-maintenance. I have a miniature poodle. He started getting these milky white spots on his eyes. The dog eye specialist said they’re cholesterol plaques because he doesn’t metabolize fat properly.” She grunted. “Talk about expensive doctor visits. I should’ve claimed Spooks as a dependent on my income tax.”
The man laughed. “I know what you mean. I get a pretty hefty vet bill keeping these guys healthy.” He waved at the cages. “What size bag do you want?”
“Twenty pounds. I’m glad you carry Science Diet. You can’t get it in Publix, and I thought pet stores dealt mostly in animals. I’ve always gone to the big chains for supplies. My dog groomer suggested I come here.”
“I sell wholesale to folks in the business. It earns me my overhead, you know? People come in to buy pets sporadically, plus there’s a lot of competition. So I earn my bread-and-butter with the supplies. Wait here; I’ll get your stuff.”
“Is this your card?” Marla asked, holding up a business card from a holder on the counter. “You must be Wake Hollander.”
“That’s right.” He retrieved her order and dumped the bag by the cash register. “Anything else?”
She withdrew her credit card and handed it to him. “Just some information. My groomer’s name is Kyle Stanislaw. You might know him as Goat. He’s been missing for several weeks, and I’m concerned. Have you heard from him at all?”
His gaze narrowed as he studied her credit card. “Your name sounds mighty familiar.”
Her heartbeat picked up speed. “A man’s body was found in Goat’s town house. Yani Verkovich. Ring a bell?” She signed a credit slip after he completed the transaction.
“Are you a cop?” His voice lost all traces of warmth.
“No, I’m just worried about a friend. But I have heard your name mentioned in certain circles.” She tucked her card back in her wallet.
“How’s that?”
She detected a flicker of fear behind his expression. “Cutter Corrigan was my teacher in beauty school. He has…had a relationship with Yani. I understand you’re acquainted with one of Yani’s colleagues, along with Cutter’s cousin, Evan Fargutt.”
His gaze darting nervously to the door, Hollander moistened his lips. “I don’t know nothin’ about what happened to Verkovich. He was up to something with Fargutt, but I never stuck my nose into their business. As l
ong as Fargutt came through on my orders, that is.”
“Oh, yes. You buy your birds from Evan’s stock, or else he ships in what you require. Or rather, what Mr. Chang requests.”
A moment of silence passed between them. “What is it you want, Miss Shore?”
“My friend’s safe return. That will happen only when Verkovich’s killer is found. Do you think Yani discovered too much about his Chinese colleague?”
Hollander leaned forward. “Mr. Chang ain’t involved in this fellow’s death. If you ask me, look to Fargutt’s ranch. There’s more than one rotten apple in that bunch.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ve said my piece. You can’t fool me, missy. I know you must be working for the cops. That detective asked me about those people who lived up in Loxahatchee.”
“Pardon me?”
He swished something in his mouth and then spit into a trash container. “Back in ninety-five, a couple of bird breeders disappeared from a ranch in Palm Beach County. I used to deliver their feed, but that was my only contact. The two of them vanished, leaving their ranch untended. All I did was notify the police that no one had picked up their seed from the front gate when I drove by later that week. The place had a stench that told me something was wrong.”
“So what happened to them?”
“No one knows. Could be they crossed someone or owed money and decided to skip town. Ranch hands weren’t much help. Jimmy Laredo…Jimbo had quit his job two weeks before, and the other guy was picked up in Georgia for driving with a suspended license.”
“Jimbo? Is he the same man who works at Evan’s ranch?”
“Yup. Breeders know each other, see? Doesn’t mean nothing for workers to change locations. Could be Fargutt made him a better offer, or else Jimbo applied for a new job without letting on about his history. As for the cops, tell them I had nothin’ to do with no murder. I got my scruples, and they don’t let me go that far.”
Oh yeah? Your scruples allow you to engage in illegal animal traffic. How about those poor creatures who don’t survive transit? Or become captives for life? I don’t see you showing any compassion there, pal.
Gritting her teeth, she lifted the heavy bag of dog food. “Well, thanks for your help. At least I know where to come for supplies from now on. Here’s my business card. Next time you’re ready for a haircut, stop by my salon. I guarantee you’ll be satisfied with the results.”
Always the promoter, she thought, even when interviewing suspects. You never knew where your next client would come from.
She laughingly told Nicole about it the next day at work. “Boy, would I be shocked if he walked in here.”
The sleek stylist peered at her before swiping her countertop with a clean towel. “So you don’t believe this pet-store guy had anything to do with the murder?”
Marla sorted foils for her next highlights job. “No, and despite the illegal goings-on with Yani’s colleague, Wake implied Chang wasn’t involved, either.”
“Hey, Marla.” Giorgio breezed into the salon, just a few minutes earlier than his first appointment of the day.
“Since when do you wear driving gloves?” Marla asked, noticing the black gloves he casually tossed into a drawer.
“They protect my hands.” Grinning, he wiggled his fingers at her. “They are, after all, a valuable asset.” He sauntered closer, giving Marla a playful once-over. “You would like a demonstration?” White teeth gleamed under a trim mustache. Waiting for her reply, he ruffled his curly black hair as though to offer further enticement.
Marla stared at him. Dark-haired, Latin good looks, possessing a cosmetology license.
“What’s the matter? You eat lemons for breakfast? Oh dear, you must have heard the news.”
“News? From your expression, it can’t be good.”
Giorgio and Nicole exchanged furtive glances. “You tell her,” Giorgio said.
Nicole, putting aside her towel, pursed her lips. “There’s no easy way to say this. Carolyn Sutton is opening her salon this week.”
“Shit. I’ve been so busy that I forgot all about it.”
“She’ll be two doors down, on the other side of Arnie’s bagel place,” Giorgio said, his voice oozing sympathy.
“That woman hates me. She’ll do everything she can to steal business from us.”
“I thought she was already enticing customers away with free offers,” Nicole said.
“That’s true. Some people have returned to my chair, saying they don’t like how she conducts operations. But that was when her salon was still across town. Now we’ll be in direct competition with each other.”
“If you ask me, she’ll be the one at a disadvantage, not you,” Nicole said reassuringly.
“Just what I need, another headache.”
“Marla, you got a headache? I have some Advil if you want it,” Jennifer called from across the room.
“I was talking about something else,” Marla said, annoyed by how easily voices carried in a salon. “How was your dentist appointment yesterday?”
The blond stylist continued cutting her customer’s hair. “Would you believe it cost me two hundred fifty dollars to get a cavity filled? Man, we could have used that money toward a new dishwasher. Our old model broke last week.”
“Tell me about it,” Marla said. “Prices have gone up everywhere.”
“What’s that?” Giorgio asked, indicating the sheet of paper lying faceup on her counter.
“It’s a list of people who were in my class at cosmetology school. I promised Detective Vail I’d fax it to him.”
His dark eyes gleamed brightly. “Planning a reunion?”
“Something like that. One member is missing. I asked Dalton to try to track him.”
“Is that the fellow you told me about?” Nicole interrupted. “The one you made go bald?”
“Ouch,” Marla said, grimacing.
Giorgio tapped her arm. “What’s this?”
“Another shameful incident from my past, that’s all.” She turned away to make sure all her plugs were firmly in the sockets. Thankfully, the rest of her employees were busy with clients, because gossip spread quickly. She kept in mind that people liked to listen in to other folks’ conversations in salons. Hearing the buzz around town was part of the attraction in being there.
Giorgio planted his hands on his hips in an effeminate gesture. “Let’s have it, Marla.”
“I don’t have time. My highlights will be here any minute.”
“Give me the shortened version, then. I’m all ears.”
She rolled her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t stop haranguing her until she spilled the beans. “I’m not a total schnook. A gang of us in school experimented with a formula I’d discovered while doing research for a history paper. We thought it would promote new hair growth. As a joke, we applied it to our classmate Wyeth’s hair, pretending it was a coloring solution. Wyeth went bald. A short fuzz grew back, but then we graduated, so I don’t know if his hair ever regained its former thickness or not.”
“You mean the guy might have stayed bald? That’s pretty drastic. Why would you pull such a nasty trick?”
“Wyeth was a conceited jerk. I suppose we wanted to prick his bubble.”
“You might have ruined his life. Did you ever consider the consequences?”
Her face reddened. “Not at the time. Believe me, I’m considering them now, since several of my classmates have met with unfortunate accidents.”
Giorgio leaned closer. “I told you to be careful. The past has a way of coming back to haunt you.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t know, Marla,” Tally said, Tuesday evening when they met for dinner. They’d already been served their minestrone soup at Jacaranda Italia restaurant. “Your theory seems pretty far out. I mean, Rogaine is already on the market. What else could be gained by another hair-growth formula?”
Marla regarded her friend, who’d come straight from work at Dressed To Kill boutique. Tally’s blo
nd hair and azure eyes were set off by a metallic blue silk blouse tucked into a pair of black faux-leather pants. She had a figure to die for, although she constantly complained about fighting an expanding waistline.
“Male-pattern baldness is a sensitive topic,” Marla replied. “Women have it too, but we don’t talk about it as much. Most products on the market today merely prevent further hair loss, so a formula that stimulates new hair growth could be extremely valuable. That’s what I think Yani was working on.” Marla shoved a spoonful of steaming liquid into her mouth. Its spicy edge kicked her tongue. She chewed a piece of garlic bread to chase it down.
Tally raised her glass of merlot. “How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Cutter met Yani at a citrus canker workshop. They were opponents to the cause, but they must have found something in common. Yani started coming to Cutter’s shop as a customer. Cutter learned Yani worked at Stockhart Industries in the biochemical department.” Putting her spoon down, she leaned forward. “I think Cutter had my notes on the hair-tonic formula developed by that chemist who used to work for Martha Matilda Harper. He believed it had merit, and he brought Yani into the fold to develop it. They needed a place to work, so Cutter approached his cousin Evan.”
Tally nodded without ruffling a hair on her French braid. “Sounds logical so far, according to what you’ve learned. But even if this is true, how would a new formula be different from something like Rogaine?”
Marla waited while the waitress delivered their entrees of eggplant parmesan. “You have to understand what causes hair to grow. We’re born with all the hair follicles we are ever going to have. Hair grows in three stages. First, it develops in the follicles under your skin. At the base of the hair root is a network of blood vessels that feed the hair. Rapidly dividing cells push forward and up through the follicles until they reach the surface where they die. In other words, what you see on your head is dead hair cells.”
Highlights to Heaven Page 17
