Perish By Pedicure

by Nancy J. Cohen

  Liesl polished off her last bite of hot dog. “At one of the hair shows, Chris bragged about an investment program that her financial analyst had recommended. It had been giving Chris a high rate of interest for several years. Jan, whose mother was ill, needed extra income. She opted into the scheme just before the market crashed.”

  “That must have upset her.” The aroma of barbecued beef made Marla’s mouth water. Where was her meal already? She craned her neck, searching for the waitress who had vanished. Figures, just when I’m on a tight schedule.

  Liesl blinked. “From what I gathered, Jan ended up losing a bundle, but she blamed herself for not reading the fine print instead of Chris for leading her on. Chris got some kind of referral fee out of the deal, and she felt bad enough about what happened to Jan’s money that when the regional manager position became vacant, she recommended Jan for the job.”

  “Wasn’t Tyler in line for a promotion, too?”

  “Sure, luv, but he didn’t dare make a stink. Chris knew something about him that he didn’t want to get out, and that’s how she kept him on a leash.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I got the impression that you had a thing for Tyler, Marla said to Liesl. “Did you feel Tyler was too tied to Christine to notice you?”

  Liesl’s expression shuttered. “He noticed me all right, but maybe you’ve sensed it—Tyler will flirt with you and then he’ll back off. It’s, like, he’s a big fraud.”

  “Do you think he’s gay?” Tyler didn’t come across that way to her, not with his swaggering confidence and scruffy style. But she’d been wrong before on this subject, much to her detriment.

  Liesl sipped her drink. “Nope. It’s something else.”

  Marla’s meal arrived, and she fell silent while she ate. The juicy burger filled her stomach with satisfying weight. Feeling the need to boost her blood sugar, she rationalized away the calories as necessary for brain function. She had to keep her wits about her if she wanted to stay one step ahead of the criminal amongst them.

  While she contemplated what topic to address next, Liesl signaled for her check. Reluctant to end their dialogue, Marla blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

  “Tell me, was Luxor involved in Christine’s deal with Dr. Greenberg, the dermatologist?”

  Rummaging in her purse, Liesl paused to stare at Marla as though she were daft. “Luxor is donating a percentage of our profits from the sunscreen line to the melanoma society. Dr. Greenberg is on their board of directors. Why do you ask?”

  “He met with Chris at the assisted-living facility where her mother lives. That struck me as odd, unless he’s a personal friend of the family.”

  “Maybe Chris wanted him to examine her mum, luv. Lots of blokes in Florida have skin problems.”

  “Chris’s mother mentioned that she thought he was after a donation.”

  Removing a few bills from her wallet, Liesl tossed them on the table. “How do you know? Did you go see her?”

  “I went to pay my respects.”

  “Rubbish, Marla. You’re just damn nosy. If. I were you, I’d stick to the job at hand. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pick up my headcase bag from my room. Do you need a Wave Runner? I brought one along.”

  Marla pictured the triple-barrel curling iron. “That won’t be necessary, thanks. I’ve got my own kit.”

  Left alone, she leaned her elbows on the table, not caring about her manners. She took a long sip of Coke while reflecting on their conversation. Liesl had indicated that she didn’t buy Tyler’s come-hither approach. Neither did she. Tyler had initially tried to hit on her when she’d met him, and when she flashed her engagement ring, he’d sidled up to Georgia. He ignored the only woman, Liesl, who appeared genuinely interested in him. Obviously, he’d used Georgia as a buffer after the cocktail party when they were all seated in the lounge. Had it been her imagination, or had Chris threatened him? What was he holding back from the rest of the gang?

  Marla looked around at the crowded pool deck, sand dunes, and paths crisscrossing the hotel grounds, but there was no sign of Georgia. Maybe she’d gone back to the hotel room after leaving Tyler. And, maybe she’d learned something relevant from him. Eager to find out, Marla concluded her meal and hastened to their room. Georgia might already be inside.

  No such luck. Their belongings lay scattered where they had left them. Oh well, she’d catch up with her friend soon enough. It was almost time for everyone to congregate, and Georgia was sure to report in for duty. Grabbing a pink sweater to wear under her jacket if she got cold later, plus her bag of tools, Marla left to seek Pirate’s Cove.

  Following the signposts planted at appropriate intervals along the way, she arrived at a delightful lagoon fringed by coconut palms, sea grapes, and mangroves. Yearning to kick off her shoes and grind the white powdery sand under her toes, she instead focused on the group gathering under the shade of a spreading banyan tree. Jan, holding her clipboard, conducted an animated conversation with the photographer while Sampson and Ron were already at work on two of the models, seated on folding chairs. Turning her back to the ocean to reduce glare, Marla approached Jan for instructions. Georgia was nowhere in sight.

  “I’m ready to get started,” she declared, noting that Liesl hadn’t shown up yet. Sampson didn’t spare her a glance. Ron nodded in acknowledgment. At least their artistic director had donned a pair of slacks and a polo shirt along with his usual composure, unlike in their earlier encounter, when he’d let his professional image slip quite a few notches.

  “You can do Vivian,” Ron told her. “She’ll look great with a wet style, as though she’s just been swimming. Her golden rust hair goes great with that turquoise bikini. The colors should really jump out on the photos.” He buffed his nails against his chest. “Give her a liberal dose of gel before you scrunch. I’ve got a portable iron if you need one.”

  “Thanks, I brought my own.” Marla inspected for ants before setting her bag on a fallen tree trunk. Straightening, she got a glimpse of Georgia strolling arm-in-arm with Tyler from the opposite direction.

  Catching Marla’s gaze, Georgia winked.

  Before they could even exchange a personal greeting, Jan bustled over, perspiration coating the skin above her upper lip.

  “Tyler, it’s about time you showed up.” Looking harried, the regional manager thrust a hand through her chili-colored locks. Marla admired her outfit, ebony crop pants and a camisole top, thinking she appeared more approachable without her formal business suits.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get things done on time,” Tyler drawled, perusing her with his lazy gaze.

  “Here’s the sequence of shots.” Jan thrust him a sheaf of papers. “Make sure you match each model to the products we’re advertising. Georgia can work with Miguel on which accounts to target for the promotional premium.” She waved at Liesl, who’d just joined their ranks, evidently satisfied that the artistic team could handle their end.

  Marla’s efforts to draw Georgia aside met with futility as the hours raced by as fast as the clouds in the electric blue sky. When the crew finally wrapped up its work for the day, the early evening sun had already begun its descent. Maybe now she’d be able to find some private time with Georgia.

  “What’s everyone doing for dinner?” Liesl asked, her pouty expression aimed in Tyler’s direction. Despite her words to the contrary, Liesl was still trying to gain his attention, Marla thought Interesting.

  “Wanna meet at the Goombay Smash restaurant?” Miguel suggested. “I could go for the black beans and rice.” The Cuban sales rep had gone about his business while dancing salsa steps and humming along with music from his iPod. He’d dressed casually in denim shorts, a T-shirt advertising a radio station, and sandals.

  “That sounds cool,” Tyler replied. “Count me in, dude.”

  “I’m going for a swim, so don’t wait for me.” Jan raised a hand in dismissal. “I’ll probably just grab a health bar and fruit Smoothie later, anyway.”

>   “You’re deserting us? How are we supposed to charge our meals to the company tab without your illustrious presence?” Tyler teased, dimples creasing his cheeks.

  She glared at him. “I have to account for every penny we spend. Chris knew her numbers, and I plan to follow her example.”

  “You’ll be great,” Amy Jeanne said quietly from the sideline. She blew on a fingernail as though she’d just touched up her polish.

  “Thanks, but I wasn’t aiming to get ahead in this fashion. You all know that, right?”

  “You have my vote,” Sampson’s deep voice rumbled. His piercing dark eyes swept the group. “Our work seems to flow better with you in charge.”

  “I’ll do my best to earn your confidence.” Turning her back on them, Janice tossed her clipboard into a briefcase.

  Marla gazed at her companions in confusion. Did no one care that Chris had died an unnatural death? Had she so offended everyone that the only thing they cared about was that their lives moved more smoothly in her absence? Even if this were true, what about Heather? No one had even mentioned her name, and when Marla had broached the subject to the model whose hair she had done earlier, the girl claimed only the barest acquaintance with the victim.

  “Is it my imagination,” she said to Miguel, who stood fiddling with his music device, “or is everyone happier with Chris dead?”

  He gave her a startled glance. “I know I sleep better at night, querida. She can’t threaten my brother anymore.”

  “Isn’t he a doctor of some kind?”

  “Si, he is a surgeon. Chris was suing him and making his life miserable. I wanted to wring her neck for causing him such anguish.” Facing the ocean, he squinted at the horizon. “Felipe raised me after our parents passed away. I would do anything for him.”

  Including murder? “What was Chris’s claim against your brother?”

  “Some female thing. I don’t like to talk about it. It gets me too upset in here.” Pounding his chest, he nodded once at her before stalking away.

  “I didn’t realize Miguel felt so strongly about his brother,” she said to Jan, tapping the manager’s elbow to get her attention before she could leave.

  Regarding her with annoyance, Jan said, “His family ties are very close. That’s a good thing, Marla. Maybe you should focus more on yours instead of prying into everyone else’s affairs.”

  Marla realized she could be putting her future with Luxor at jeopardy by continuing with her probes, but she couldn’t let two souls haunt the earth while their murders went unsolved. No one else seemed to care, except for Sergeant Masterson. And where had the investigator gone? Peering around, she realized he hadn’t remained for the photo op. Had something else called him away, like an important new clue?

  Considering her options, she couldn’t help but press on. Justice, Justice, shall you pursue had been the theme of her bat mitzvah speech, and it defined her current motto. Seeking the truth took precedence over personal ambition. If that meant Luxor would no longer request her services, so be it. Certain things were more important in life…and beyond.

  “Just answer me one thing,” she called out to Jan as the other woman turned to walk away. “Why was Chris suing Miguel’s brother, Felipe?”

  Jan turned back to face Marla, her eyes glimmering. “She claimed the surgeon botched her breast implants. But she could have been exaggerating.”

  “Do you say that because you learned the hard way that Chris wasn’t trustworthy? Didn’t you put money into an investment she recommended, right before it went sour?”

  “My, you’ve been a busy little worker bee, haven’t you?” The redhead’s lips tightened. “I rue the day I ever listened to her. Chris lied to me, but, then, I never should have mistaken her for a friend. It wasn’t until the market dived that I found out she hadn’t contributed one cent to that fund, while I’d lost thousands. I’m supporting my mother and felt the loss deeply.”

  “You must have been really angry.”

  “I’ll say! Chris thought the promotion would make up for her bad advice, but she was wrong.”

  “Now you’re wearing her shoes as our acting director.”

  Jan’s eyes hardened. “Let me make something clear to you. I would never harm someone to push myself up the corporate ladder. Hard work and being a team player are the things that get you ahead. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Nor should you, if you want my recommendation.”

  Marla swallowed. “I appreciate your honesty. I hope you realize that I care about those people who died, and that I also want what’s best for Luxor. Covering up the truth benefits no one and just leads to problems down the road.”

  “It already has. “Jan’s gaze softened. “You’re right, this has all been very painful. We should welcome your intervention, especially because you’ve helped the police solve crimes before. I just don’t want Chris’s death to impede our progress. She felt very strongly about donating our profits to the melanoma society, and I intend to fulfill her purpose.”

  Before Marla could pose a question about the dermatologist or launch a probe about Heather’s role, the director slipped away. Marla turned back to the group, but people had dispersed after planning to meet at the restaurant at eight o’clock. Darkness rapidly approached. Swatting at a mosquito buzzing near her ear, she decided it was time to go inside and lather her skin with insect repellent.

  “Georgia, we have to talk,” she said, signaling to her friend, who lingered by a fallen coconut. Georgia’s face held a wistful expression as she gazed out to sea. Starting down the path back to the hotel, Marla skirted a fallen palm frond and a lizard on the prowl. “What did you learn from Tyler earlier? I got the impression that he told you something important. Did you find out what Chris had on him?”

  “You won’t believe it,” Georgia said, giggling. She glanced around to make sure no one in the vicinity could hear them. “Tyler is divorced. He has custody of his daughter, and he feels very strongly about parenthood. That’s kinda why he comes across as a big jerk. He acts like this real cool guy and then he backs off, because he thinks most single women won’t understand his responsibilities. Plus, he doesn’t want to do anything to rock the boat in terms of his relationship with his daughter.”

  “So where did Chris fit in?”

  “She knew about the child and used the situation to her advantage. Christine threatened to spread rumors about his promiscuity if he didn’t sleep with her. He was afraid it might jeopardize his custody agreement, but he wouldn’t give in to her, despite her manipulation. When Chris passed him over for promotion, he felt it was her way of exerting control. She gloated over his disappointment, but he still wouldn’t bend.”

  “What a witch.”

  “It certainly made me see Tyler in a new light. I respect him a lot more after he shared this. I know it took guts.” Georgia faltered, clutching Marla’s arm. “You’re not going to say anything to him, are you? I really don’t want him to know I’ve betrayed his confidence.”

  “All right,” Marla said reluctantly. “Sounds like you two have reached a new understanding. Where does that leave you and Goat?” she asked to lighten the mood.

  Georgia laughed, resuming her pace. “Like, Tyler and I are just pals. He’s cute but totally not my type, especially with a kid. We can have fun with each other, but that’s as far as it goes. Omigosh, look at that sunset. Awesome!”

  Marla twisted her head to view the crimson trails ribboning from the persimmon and ruby artist’s palette in the sky. Truth be told, she’d viewed sunsets enough times in Florida to take them for granted, but on a clear night like this the vivid colors still had the power to captivate. Her mood changed, however, as the red rivulets reminded her of blood, bringing home the fact that Luxor was two people short on this trip. She’d heard a lot of reasons why her teammates wanted Chris dead, but what about Heather? Had the model inadvertently uncovered a clue leading to the killer? Was that why she had to die? And what of the paper in her hand mentioning Bell Farms? Wha
t did that mean?

  “I want to take a look at the boats in the marina,” Georgia said, nudging her. “Do you mind if we go there first?”

  “I have to put my kit away,” Marla replied, lifting her bag. “Why do you want to go there? Are you hoping to catch a ride on one of the yachts?”

  “Not this late.” Her grinning friend’s teeth reflected the light from the lampposts, which had flicked on just a moment ago, illuminating the grounds. “I can daydream about how the other half lives, though. You probably see this stuff all the time, but for me it’s way cool. Flowers blooming in January, palm trees, green lawns, and ocean breezes. I could dig living in the tropics—except now it’s actually gotten cold! You didn’t tell me the temperature could drop this much at night.”

  “The weather is variable this time of year. Do you want to wear my jacket? I’m okay with just the sweater.”

  “All right, thanks.” Georgia shrugged into Marla’s cranberry jacket, while Marla donned the sweater she’d brought for extra warmth. “I wish we had time to do some of the other fun things in the area. Do we have to leave so early in the morning?”

  “Afraid so,” Marla replied, mindful of her other duties. Passing the poolside tiki bar, she glanced at the patrons sipping their drinks and chatting. Too bad this weekend couldn’t stretch into a week. She agreed with Georgia on that score. Someday—she comforted herself—she’d make it to the tropical paradise of her dreams. Someday.

  “Where shall we meet?” Georgia asked, twirling a curl around her index finger. “I may not get upstairs before dinner. I’d like to take a walk on the beach after I see the boats.”

  “In the dark? You can’t see anything on the sand, where you’re walking.” Marla supposed that wouldn’t matter to a northerner, so she explained: “You’d better keep your shoes on so you don’t step on any jellyfish. If you start getting itchy, head inside. The no-see-ums come out at dusk.”

  After delivering those words of warning, she headed toward the main hotel building while Georgia split off to tour the marina and sandy beach. The perfumed fragrance of blooming jasmine filled the air, but Marla thought about the biting insects, the hidden predators that also surrounded them, targeting sweet, innocent flesh—much like the killer who had zapped the life from Christine and Heather. A shiver rolled through her. She would’ve felt a modicum of protection if Sergeant Masterson had been present. The Luxor group could be harboring a menace.