Perish By Pedicure

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Perish By Pedicure Page 2

by Nancy J. Cohen


  Sampson puffed out his chest. “I am removed from such common activities. It’s my show that will bring in new customers. They are coming to observe my techniques.”

  The younger artist, Ron Cassidy, scowled at him. “How come my only demo is on Monday morning? I thought I was onstage twice. This schedule sucks.”

  “You’re merely a master stylist,” Sampson sniffed, “whereas I am reviewed in the trade magazines as a top educator. It is my revision that we bring to the show, my creation. You’ll do what I’ve assigned you.” He turned to the sullen blonde at Ron’s side. “Liesl, you can instruct our replacement regarding her duties. Note that my demonstrations are at two o’clock each afternoon. I don’t want any screwups, understand?”

  Listen, pal, if you want to use my salon, take a lesson in courtesy. I don’t like being called a replacement.

  He must have noticed Marla’s disquiet, because his intense gaze fixed on her. “I don’t mean to be curt, but a lot is at stake here: my reputation, as well as the success of our new product line. People respect an artist’s endorsement.”

  “I’m a quick learner,” she said in a reassuring tone, “and I also hope to study your techniques and improve my skills under your tutelage.”

  As usual with big egos, flattery worked. He granted her a small smile. Then I’ll look forward to working with you.”

  “Our boys will move in the heavy equipment tonight,” Chris announced. “We have all day tomorrow to set up the exhibit, starting at nine o’clock. You can pick up your exhibitor badges at the registration desk in the morning. Marla, I hope you’ll come to our kickoff cocktail party tonight. It gives us the chance to get into the team spirit.”

  “Thanks, I’d love to come.”

  “Can we go to your salon Saturday afternoon to work with our models?”

  “Sure. Do you want me here in the morning, or should I meet you at the salon later?” Either way, she’d have to pick up her badge and drop off Georgia.

  “You’re on our payroll now, dear. I expect you to be here with everyone else.”

  “Hey, the schedule says we don’t do the photo shoot until Wednesday,” Ron griped. “What are we supposed to do after the show ends?” Grabbing a spoon from the table, he twirled it around and around before using it to check his reflection.

  “Tuesday is for tear-down, whatever we don’t get done by Monday night,” Chris answered. “And if we finish early, we’ll have some time off to relax before the photo shoot on Wednesday.”

  Marla pointed to the sheet of paper. “What’s that item scheduled for next weekend?”

  “We’re doing another shoot in the Keys. Our publicist figured we should get some beach scenes for our new advertising campaign. Where better to showcase the product’s sunscreen properties than in Florida? I hope you can come.”

  Oh joy, won’t my clients be happy when I rearrange their appointments again’? Maybe she could get out of it later, if Chris felt they had enough help without her. She didn’t want to jeopardize her chance to work with Luxor in the future by backing out herself.

  “What will I have to do?” she asked Liesl, who had sidled her chair closer to Tyler when Ron Cassidy ignored her. Tyler, making eyes at Georgia, didn’t spare Liesl or Marla a glance.

  Liesl replied with an insouciant shrug. “It’s not so hard, luv. You’ll help get the models prepped, and then you’ll assist our artists at the show.”

  “I love your accent. Where are you from?” Marla remembered a character named Liesl in The Sound Of Music.

  “I grew up in England. Anyway, when Sampson and Ron are onstage, we stand by with their combs, shears, and sprays. You can learn a lot if you watch them.”

  “It sounds exciting.”

  Her enthusiasm brought a reluctant smile to

  Liesl’s lips. “Bang on, luv. I get a real kick from doing the shows.”

  “You should watch me,” Ron told Marla. “Someday people will call me The Great Rinaldo. That’s the name I plan to use when I get famous.”

  “Excuse me?” Sampson sneered from across the table. “Rinaldo sounds like a magician’s name, but, then, you’ll need magic if you hope to replace me.” Addressing the women, Sampson said, “Ronan is his real name. It means little seal. I guess his Irish mama thought it was cute for her eighth child.”

  “Shut up,” Ron growled, and Marla saw the flash of hurt in his eyes.

  “Hey, cut the crap, dudes,” said Tyler. “We’re supposed to be having fun. Listen to this joke I heard.” Sipping from a Coke can, he told a story that made them laugh, followed by another and another.

  This is just how I want to spend my week—getting caught up in company rivalries, Marla thought, shifting her feet to ease the tension in her back. Her colleagues would have to put aside their petty jealousies to function as a team, although she suspected that when crunch time came, they worked like a smoothly oiled machine. Otherwise, Chris wouldn’t have brought these same people together again.

  Personality differences aside, she couldn’t wait to learn what the master stylists could teach her. She didn’t know which excited her more: learning new techniques or benefiting from the publicity to her salon that association with Luxor would bring. It sure beat the unwanted publicity she had received from solving murders.

  Chapter Two

  Can we stop by your salon on the way home?

  Georgia asked, glancing at Marla rather than out the car window where traffic crawled west on 1-595. Rush hour on Friday was not the best time to be on the highway. At least the sky was still light, since the sun didn’t set until after six in January.

  Marla tightened her grip on the wheel. “I’d love to show you the Cut ‘N Dye, but my staff will be finishing up their last clients now. Besides, I might get stuck there if we stop off. If you don’t mind waiting, we’ll be there tomorrow. I would like to stop off at the police station, though, to make sure Dalton is ready to pick up Pam’s parents tonight. I’d planned to go with him, but the cocktail party gives me the perfect excuse.”

  Georgia wriggled in her seat. “Way cool—I’m gonna meet your cop. Is he a real hunk?”

  “You bet. Are you on the lookout, or do you have someone?” She hadn’t exchanged much personal news with Georgia when her former roommate called. They’d both dropped out of college after two years to become hairdressers, and their relationship had lapsed until they met again at a hair show. They’d kept up a desultory correspondence since then.

  “Oh, I’m on the prowl, hon.” Georgia gave her a wicked grin. “Maybe your boyfriend has some single Mends.”

  Veering into the right lane toward the exit, Marla spared her a quick glance. “What about the guys from Luxor? Tyler’s cute, and Ron isn’t any slouch, either. Miguel might look better if he grew his hair in. He looks like a pirate with that gold earring and bald head.”

  “Miguel is a teddy bear when you get to know him, but good luck detaching him from his iPod. Ron is too self-absorbed, and Tyler, well, he’ll flirt with anyone in a skirt.”

  Marla didn’t even mention Sampson York. The artistic director was out of their league, and her immediate impression hadn’t been favorable. No doubt she could learn a lot from him, but his ego matched his height

  Focusing her attention forward, she drove off the exit ramp and turned north. “This is Palm Haven,” she said when they entered her city limits. Stately royal palms lined the road leading toward the town center. A suburb of Fort Lauderdale, the city consisted mostly of tree-shaded lanes and brick public buildings sandwiched between the metropolis to the east and the Everglades to the west. Affluent residential communities fed the shopping malls, private schools, and parks.

  The police station was located in an older part of town, where branches from overhanging ficus trees stretched across the road like the crossed swords of a military honor guard. Marla pulled into a parking space for visitors and grabbed her purse after shutting off the ignition. She touched up her lip gloss before emerging from her white Camry, s
ignaling Georgia to follow her toward the entrance of the police station.

  “Marla Shore and Georgia Rogers to see Detective Dalton Vail,” she told the receptionist, who sat in a separate room behind a thick glass window. After presenting identification, they received visitor badges and were buzzed in. This way,” she told her friend, gesturing. They had to go upstairs, and she decided to take the elevator. A couple of uniformed officers passed by while they stood waiting for the lift to arrive.

  Georgia giggled. “Would you believe I’ve never been inside a police station before? It kinda makes me nervous.”

  Marla’s gaze traced the firm butts of the receding policemen and the equipment dangling from their utility belts. “I had that reaction my first few times, too, but now I’m used to it. Hiya, Ralph,” she called to another guy down the hall.

  “I suppose it helps if you know the people,” Georgia replied, fluffing her raven locks. “How do I look?”

  “You’re gorgeous. Did I tell you I love your hair? Half my clients would kill to get those curls.”

  “Omigosh, when I was younger, all I wanted to do was straighten it, and they didn’t have the processes like they do now. Luxor has a really good relaxer on the market. I’m hoping we can entice you to set up a display in your salon.”

  Georgia paused while they entered the elevator, and Marla pushed the button for the second floor. “As I’d mentioned when I called you about the job opening,” she continued, “you can earn reward points for selling our products.”

  Marla adjusted her handbag strap. “And that gets me what?”

  “Vacations, additional products, opportunities for more photo shoots. It’s a great way to get free publicity.”

  “I know, and I can’t wait. I’ve been wanting to expand—” She cut off her explanation when the elevator door opened. “I’ll tell you about my plans later. There’s the homicide division,” she said, pointing. Threading her way through a cubicle warren, she led them toward a private office in the rear.

  Lieutenant Vail spied them through the glass wall and rose from his desk chair. A few steps later, and Marla lifted on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. Wolf whistles played in the background as she turned to introduce Georgia to her fiancé.

  His smoky gray eyes twinkled. “A pleasure, ma’am. Any friend of Marla’s is a friend of mine.” He inclined his peppery head in her direction. This show has made her hyper for weeks. I hope she gets some benefit from it.”

  “It’ll be a great learning experience,” Georgia replied, her dark eyes wide with awe as she noticed the poster that read nail ‘EM WITH GOOD FORENSICS.

  Vail closed the door behind them as they entered his office. Although he wasn’t in uniform, he wore his gold badge on his belt and a name tag over the breast pocket of his sky blue shirt. His navy sport coat lay draped over the desk chair. Papers littered the desktop and overflowed from a plastic garbage can. An empty coffee cup shared space with a sickly looking plant on the top of a metal file cabinet.

  “How come you don’t wear a uniform?” Georgia squeaked.

  Marla smiled inwardly. Her friend was obviously intimidated. Running a finger along the shelf, she winced at the layer of dust that came off.

  “It’s optional for detectives,” Vail said, shooting Marla a look that melted her bones. With so many guests, they wouldn’t be able to get together, in the intimate sense, for at least a week. “So, Marla, what’s up? Did you have a reason for stopping by, or did you just want me to meet your friend?” Perching on the corner of his desk, he appeared to have all the time in the world for her whims.

  She shuffled her feet. “I was, uh, wondering if everything is okay regarding your, uh, in-laws. Former in-laws. You know what I mean.” Her anxious gaze lifted to his face. Even sitting, he stretched taller than her five feet six inches. ‘You’ll call the airport to make sure their flight’s on time, right? I have towels set out in their bedroom. Georgia is using the sleep sofa in the study, so Justine and Larry will have the guest room. I’ve stocked the refrigerator, too, since I won’t have time to cook while the show runs.”

  “Aren’t you going to the airport with me?”

  “Sorry, but I’ve been invited to a cocktail party with the group from Luxor, and I got the impression it’s more like a royal command, where people are expected to attend. Besides, this will present a good opportunity for me to get better acquainted with everyone. They’re using my salon tomorrow to prep the models.”

  “Oh. And that’s a good thing?” He looked doubtful.

  She thought of all the shuffling she’d have to do with her staff and customers. “Yes, because then they’ll see the layout before our photo shoot on Wednesday. This is a great opportunity, Dalton.” She let enthusiasm invade her tone. ‘The publicity will be very useful, especially after we move to bigger quarters.”

  “How will the publicity help when you move into your new house?” Georgia interrupted. She’d been staring with fascination at a plaster mold of a footprint.

  “I’m not talking about us,” Marla explained. This is what I started to tell you earlier. I’m moving the salon. But let’s not keep Dalton from his work. I just wanted to let you know that I might be getting back late tonight,” she told him. “Are you sure you can handle Justine and Larry on your own?”

  His frown indicated his displeasure. “No problem.”

  Feeling awash in guilt, she reacted defensively. “Look, you could have had them stay at your place. So what if they saw your boxes? They know we’re moving in together.”

  He slid to his feet. “It would hurt them to see Pam’s dishes packed away, and her angel figurines missing from their cabinet, not to mention the furniture that’s already gone to the auction house.”

  Marla suppressed a shudder. His home already looked brighter without those heavy wooden pieces. “Well, they’ll have to get used to the idea. Brianna has kept the things that mean the most to her. You might offer Pam’s folks some of the items neither of you want.”

  “I’ll think about it,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Sure you will. “I won’t have time to chauffeur them around. Why don’t they rent a car for the week? Then you won’t have to worry about picking them up, either.”

  “It’s the least I can do.”

  She walked up to him and stroked his jaw. “I know this visit will be difficult for you. I said I’d be willing to help, but I’d like to see them acknowledge where you’re coming from, too. You don’t need to revisit your pain.”

  “They tried to get custody of Brianna after Pam died,” he reminded her. “I don’t want any roadblocks while they’re here.”

  They stared at each other, each locked into a personal view of the situation.

  Georgia cleared her throat. “Marla, I hate to interrupt, but it’s getting late, and I need to shower before we dress for the cocktail party.”

  “Of course. See you later, Dalton. Don’t forget my house key when you go to the airport. And watch out for Spooks when you bring their luggage in. I don’t want him running loose outside.”

  “I forgot you have a dog,” Georgia said on their way out.

  “A poodle,” Marla specified. “Dalton suggested I bring Spooks to his house, but he’s already got Lucky, a golden retriever. They get along fine, but I’d rather keep Spooks with me.”

  As soon as they got home, Marla let her cream-colored pet into the fenced backyard. Georgia headed to the refrigerator to assuage her seemingly endless hunger pangs, while Marla retrieved phone messages, sorted through mail, and grabbed a drink of water.

  “I love your house,” Georgia gushed after Marla gave her a tour. ‘The rooms are so huge. I don’t see how you can give it up unless you’re moving into a larger place.”

  “I’m not selling; I’ve already got a renter lined up.” She gestured to her living room. ‘The new house will be more modern, with high ceilings and the latest appliances. I’m really excited, although I don’t know how I can handle two m
oves at the same time. Come on, I’ll show you where to put your things.”

  She led her friend into the study, now converted into a spare room. Lemon scent lingered from her earlier cleaning.

  Georgia slung her suitcase on the sleep sofa. “Did you already find a location to move your salon? What’s the advantage?”

  “I’ve been wanting to initiate day spa services for quite some time,” Marla answered. “Many of my clients would like more choices than just a lip wax or facial, so we need to expand our service menu. Going more upscale means we’ll be able to raise our profit margin as well. Working with your company will give us added exposure, and I can bring the new techniques drat I learn at the shows to my staff.”

  “So you’ll be getting married, moving into a new house, and expanding your salon, all at once? That’s a heavy load, hon.”

  Marla grinned. “I get more accomplished by multitasking. Besides, the psychic I consulted in Cassadaga said change was very positive for me right now, and it involved a career aspect.”

  Georgia gave her a skeptical glance. “You don’t believe in that stuff, do you?”

  “Reverend Hazel Sherman was right about a number of things. She said I’d have a change of residence, and that’s coming to pass. Then she predicted a family member would die on an upcoming trip, and I told you about Aunt Polly. But let’s not dwell on the past. What are you wearing to the cocktail party?”

  Before they left for the evening, Marla made sure everything was in readiness for her later houseguests. She left them a note apologizing for her absence, saying she’d see them in the morning if not that night. To make them feel welcome, she’d stopped off and bought a box of Godiva chocolates that she placed on the kitchen counter with her note. If she could just survive this weekend, she’d focus on the people who mattered in her life.

  “Too bad your fiancé has to go to the airport tonight, or he could have joined us. I think Chris wouldn’t have minded if you’d brought him,” Georgia told her in the car on their way back to the hotel. She looked smart in a simple black dress and Swarovski jewelry. “In fact, Chris probably would be happier if you had an escort other than me.”

 

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