Permed to Death

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Permed to Death Page 10

by Nancy J. Cohen


  A pile of papers lay scattered about various surfaces, including the desk. She shuffled through them, her panic growing as she searched for the envelope and couldn’t find it.

  Was she too late? Had Detective Vail already recovered it? But then he would have said something when she’d met him the other day. Unless he was toying with her, trying to entrap her with her own contradictions.

  Sweat broke out on her brow. She pushed a stack of papers aside to search again. Her fingers fell upon a sharp object, forcing an exclamation from her lips. Peering at it, she frowned. A screw-back earring? If she recalled correctly, both Bertha and Wendy had pierced ears.

  Glancing to see if Wendy was still busy rummaging through a collection of unpaid bills, she turned it over in her hand. The pearl-and-marcasite setting was attractive albeit old-fashioned.

  “Wendy, did this belong to your aunt?” she called, holding up the item.

  Wendy squinted. “I’ve never seen that piece of jewelry before. Aunty Bertha wore gold mostly and never screw-backs.”

  “Nobody else has been in here for the past few days, right? Except for you and the cops?”

  “As far as I know. I did accidentally leave a door unlocked the last time I was here, but the police were watching the place then.” She held a hand to her stomach and grimaced.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, just feeling a little sick. It happens unexpectedly, not always in the morning like you’d expect. Zack says I should get over it soon.”

  “Maybe you need to rest for a while. You can’t work yourself too hard when you’re pregnant.”

  “I’m just glad I was able to get this week off from work, although I wish the circumstances had been different.” A trace of sadness infected her words.

  Feeling a surge of sympathy, Marla patted her arm. “Bertha will live on in your loving memories.”

  “She’d planned to write her memoirs, you know. She told us at Passover. Todd wasn’t very happy, but he usually argued with her about everything.”

  Absently, Marla pocketed the earring. “Yes, I remember Bertha mentioned that she’d started her autobiography.”

  “Well, I don’t know why it would make Todd so upset. He was practically shouting. Did you ever, uh, talk to him?”

  You mean, did I tell Vail about your suspicions regarding Todd? “Yes, I did.” She watched Wendy carefully. “Todd said Zack’s business investments haven’t been doing well. He needs the money your inheritance will bring.”

  A muscle twitched on the side of Wendy’s jaw. “Todd is trying to deflect your interest in him,” she said smoothly. “It’s obvious he has something to hide.”

  Speaking of things to hide. “By the way, I can’t find my envelope. Do you think Bertha put it in her safe?”

  “If so, you’ll have to wait until the police examine the contents. In the meantime, I’ll let you know if I find it elsewhere in the house.” She moved toward the front door. Not wishing to appear too desperate, Marla followed.

  “I wish I could do more to help you get through this,” Marla blurted, feeling sorry for the girl who had a heavy task to bear alone.

  “Thanks. It just helps to talk, and you’ve been a good listener.” Wendy hesitated, mixed emotions reflected on her face. “I-I’d like to count on you as a friend.”

  “Of course. Please ... call me anytime.”

  “I will. Likewise, if you learn anything new.”

  Chapter 8

  Marla got into her car, pondering Wendy’s last words. She was glad the girl considered her a friend, but wondered why Wendy wouldn’t turn to her husband for support. Then again, why did Wendy always change the subject when Marla mentioned Zack? She’d never gotten an answer to her question about where they’d spent the night before the murder. Did that mean they hadn’t been home? Surely Detective Vail had gotten their alibis. Maybe she could coax him to share information, but she needed something to offer in return.

  It was time she paid a visit to Zack Greenfield, she decided, checking her watch. Damn, ten minutes until her next appointment arrived! She hated to keep customers waiting and pressed harder on the accelerator when her car veered onto Las Olas Boulevard. Even if she exceeded the speed limit, it would take her fifteen minutes just to get to her salon. Her heart pumping faster with nervous energy, she kept an eye out for police cars in the rearview mirror.

  Zack would have to be a target for another time. This weekend? He’d probably spend it with Wendy, and she wanted to get him alone. How about Monday? Okay, go for it. She’d make an appointment for next week, pretending she needed help planning her financial future. During the rest of the drive, she constructed how she’d present her ruse and mentally devised a list of questions to be covered.

  Starving since she’d eaten so little for lunch, she breezed into Bagel Busters when she had a break around four and ordered a corn beef sandwich on rye with a cream soda. Not much caffeine there, but enough of a boost to last her until bedtime. She had nothing special planned for tonight, not being in the mood to go out even though Ralph had asked twice.

  “Hey, Arnie, got a free minute?” she called, waving.

  Signaling to an assistant to take over his post, he approached her table. “Shalom, pretty lady. What’s up?” Plopping himself into a chair, he leaned back with casual ease.

  Her glance flickered to his hair, not slicked-back as usual but parted to the side. With his cocky grin, it gave him an attractively rakish look. “New hairstyle? I like it, pal.”

  “I aim to please. Any word on the murder investigation? We haven’t had a chance to talk this week. Either I’m tied up when you come in for bagels, or you’ve been sending Lucille. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” He slapped a hand on his broad chest, covered by another T-shirt from his brand-name collection. “I was deeply wounded by your callous insensitivity.”

  “Go stuff it. I’ve just been busy.”

  “So what’s the score?”

  Marla waited as the waitress served her meal. Chewing on a piece of sandwich, she responded. “Well, I’ve talked to Mrs. Kravitz’s niece and her son. Wendy is suspicious of Todd and Todd is suspicious of Zack. They’re each trying to place blame on the other.” Between bites, she explained her findings.

  “All right,” Arnie drawled. “So you feel you’ve met Todd before but can’t remember when. He wouldn’t tell you what he does for a living but isn’t hurting for money.”

  She nodded, taking a sip of cream soda. “The guy gives me the creeps. As for Zack, Detective Vail confirmed that he’s in debt I made an appointment with him for a consultation on Monday. According to Wendy, he resented Bertha’s attempt to control their lives, but she doesn’t believe he’d resort to violence.”

  “Of course not, she’s his wife. And pregnant, besides. That gives him even more of a motive, especially if those gambling friends he owes are getting nasty.”

  “I hope Lance comes up with something useful. I’ll give him a call later, although I’m sure he would have contacted me by now if he had news.” Finishing off her sandwich, she frowned. “I remembered that the creamer jar was fuller when I used it last. Someone must have emptied it so only a spoonful remained and then added the poison. That person must have known Bertha was coming in that morning. Wendy and Zack knew about her appointment. I forgot to ask Todd.”

  “Didn’t your staff know you were coming in early to do Mrs. Kravitz’s hair?”

  Playing with her spoon, she didn’t answer immediately. “Yes,” she finally replied, “and that about eliminates a customer from doing the deed unless Bertha confided in a friend. With the back door left unlocked, anyone could have entered during the night once the cleaning crew finished.”

  “Carlos never came back to work, did he?”

  Marla slapped a hand over her mouth. “I forgot to follow up on that one, although Vail might have
told me if he’d talked to the man.” She eyed Arnie. “Any good gossip come through here?”

  “Nope. Say, do you really think Vail is leveling with you?”

  A small smile played about her lips. She dropped her hand, cupping her glass. “I believe he’s attracted to me, but he can’t trust me. I’m sure he’s learned things he isn’t revealing. If I could get a trump card, I’d offer to trade information with him. We ran into each other after I met Todd, so I told him about that conversation and seeing Wendy. You see, I’m willing to share.”

  “But he suspects you of poisoning Mrs. Kravitz.”

  “I was alone with her. So says Roy Collins, who sent me a letter from his lawyer. He’s going to sue me for negligence.”

  “Oh Lord.” He gave her a worried glance. “What are you planning to do?”

  She grinned. “I’ve hired Lance to check into Sunshine Publishing. Lucille hinted that Roy had been involved in some activity detrimental to the company, but she wouldn’t elaborate. Either it turned out to be insignificant or she’s afraid of repercussions if she rats on him. After all, that’s what got her fired in the first place. She told Bertha, and the old lady didn’t believe her. Lucille said she doesn’t harbor any resentment, but who knows?”

  A puzzled expression crossed his face. “What’s the difference if Lucille exposes Roy now? That is, if her hints are substantiated.”

  “I don’t think Lucille would betray him. Don’t ask me why.” She thought a moment. “Maybe the old lady just found out Collins was siphoning off company funds. Bertha wouldn’t accept the truth from Lucille, but seeing it for herself would be different.”

  Arnie followed her train of thought. “And if she threatened to bring charges against Roy, maybe he retaliated. You think Lucille suspects him of doing Bertha in?”

  Marla pressed a palm to her forehead where a dull ache throbbed. “You can suspect anybody if you try. I wish Vail would be so smart.”

  “He wouldn’t be in the detective department if he didn’t consider all the angles.”

  “Tell me about it.” Stretching, she rose. “Time to get back to work. Thanks for being such a good friend, Arnie.” Flipping a couple of dollar bills on the table, she grabbed the check and headed for the cashier.

  “Hey, you got plans for tonight?” Arnie said, resuming his post at the cash register.

  “Yeah, I’m retiring early. It’s been a long day.”

  His face brightened. “Any chance we could—”

  “Sorry.” She paid her tab, flashed him a brilliant smile, and strode out before he coaxed her into accepting.

  Still smiling, she entered her salon. Arnie always had the ability to lighten her mood. Maybe one day she’d take him up on his offer, purely for a friendship outing, of course.

  “Marla, you got a call from Mr. Thomson,” Lucille stated. The receptionist looked harried, the phone receiver clamped to her ear while she scribbled in the appointment book with a pencil. Although Marla liked her to keep their schedule on the computer, Lucille insisted on doing some things the old-fashioned way as well.

  At her news, Marla frowned. Thomson’s call was probably about their lease, which came up for renewal next month. What was their landlord planning to do? Noting her next appointment waiting in the reception area, she signaled for her to go on to the shampoo station. Scurrying past, Marla charged into the storeroom where she picked up the telephone reserved for private calls.

  “Mr. Thomson?” she said after his secretary transferred the line. “This is Marla Shore. I got a message that you’d called.”

  “That’s right,” his gruff voice responded. “I see your lease expires in June. I’m sure you’re aware of how high insurance premiums have gone since that last hurricane hit so close to home. Costs have escalated with inflation, meaning my expenses have risen. What this means is that I have to raise your monthly rent and ask for a supplement to your security deposit.”

  Naming a figure that made her jaw drop, he continued before she could protest. “I realize this might prove to be a difficulty under your current circumstances, so I’ve opened to other offers. I have to say I’m tempted to take the one who says she’ll pay me double your rent.”

  Marla sputtered for a reply, at first so outraged she couldn’t speak. Doubtless he was referring to Carolyn Sutton, who’d been scheming to take over her salon. But where would Carolyn, whose business was declining, get the funding?

  “I’m sure we can reach an agreement,” she said in a smooth tongue, “as long as I have your assurance you’ll honor my option to renew.”

  “You match those figures and the lease is yours. Get back to me in two weeks. I’d like to wrap this up by June fifteenth.”

  Two weeks! Frantically, Marla wondered where she’d get the money for the new security deposit without even considering the hike in rent. Was Thomson deliberately trying to ruin her? He knew her income wasn’t sufficient for those requirements. But then neither was Carolyn’s. Someone had to be backing her, Marla realized as she headed back into the salon. Her eyes narrowing with suspicion, she contemplated a likely source. Damn Stan, he could be so Machiavellian. She could just conceive of him setting up a plan like this. Force her to come up with a large sum of cash and she’d have to sell her share of their jointly owned property. Well, she’d find another way.

  Gritting her teeth, she breezed through her last appointment. In a morose mood, she waved good-bye to her employees as they filed out at the end of the workday. Just make it through tomorrow and you ‘II be done for the weekend, she told herself, gathering her purse.

  “Want to grab a bite to eat?” Nicole asked, lingering behind. Her expressive brown eyes reflected concern.

  “I’m not hungry. I just ate a sandwich at four.”

  “Then how about a cup of coffee? You look done in.”

  Marla stiffened. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Yeah, you are. What’s wrong?” Nicole paced forward until she stood facing Marla. Planting her hands on her hips, the slender dark-skinned woman looked as though she wouldn’t budge.

  Heaving a sigh, Marla leaned against the reception counter. “Thomson won’t renew our lease unless we come up with a lot more money. He’s received a better offer, and you can guess who from.”

  “Carolyn Sutton? Oh, no. But how can she afford anything more than we can?”

  “A loan, perhaps?” Marla sneered, knowing the true answer. “Maybe we should ask her ourselves.”

  “That might not be such a bad idea.” Nicole shifted her feet. “Does our lease allow for such an increase? I thought there were limits.”

  “So did I, but if someone makes a better offer, Thomson has the right to accept it. At least I think he does.”

  Nicole frowned. “Shouldn’t you consult your attorney?”

  “The guy who originally handled my affairs moved to Connecticut, remember? And I don’t have another good lawyer I can trust. If I did, I’d have already consulted him about this other business.”

  “Stan-—”

  “Is probably backing Carolyn Sutton. He wants me to sell a piece of rental property we jointly own, but I refuse. He’s warned me he’ll get his way.”

  “That’s pretty despicable.”

  “So is he.” Her neck snapped around at a commotion from the rear. Darlene was clattering out of the storeroom. Marla’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you’d left,” she said to the girl, who boldly stalked toward the front door.

  “I, er, had to check my supplies for tomorrow. And there was a load of towels to fold. Dunno why you’re not grateful.” Sashaying by, hips swinging in a miniskirt, she tilted her chin defiantly.

  “Sure, Darlene,” Nicole spit while Marla stood to the side silently chewing her lip. Once they were alone, Nicole leaned forward. “She was listening to us,” Nicole hissed.

  “No kidding.” Marla sighed. “
I’ll deal with her another time. Right now, I need to figure out how to beat this latest problem.” Giving a weak smile, she regarded her friend. “We’ll have dinner together next week, okay?”

  Nicole gave her a thumbs-up. “If you say so. Hang in there, Marla. Things will turn out all right.”

  Always an optimist. As she walked to her car, Marla wished she possessed such confidence. It seemed as though the burdens of the world were falling onto her shoulders. But then she thought of Tammy and everything focused into a new perspective. You’ll survive, just like before. Life consists of challenges but at least you’re able to face them. Not like Tammy, who will never have the chance.

  Realizing she couldn’t make any business calls until next week, she tried to relax at home. Anita phoned, and they agreed to a lunch date on Monday. Marla figured she’d be finished at Zack’s by then, and she didn’t relish spending the afternoon alone. After taking Spooks for a walk, she fixed herself a light supper: a bowl of red beet borscht that she’d mixed with sour cream and chunks of boiled potatoes. Along with buttered rye bread, it made a tasty meal. She surfed the Net for a while, checking the news sites, then retired early.

  Saturday arrived with the sultry promise of rain. She’d just finished her second blow-dry when a walk-in called her name. Glancing up from the counter where she was straightening hairbrushes, she groaned. Detective Dalton Vail marched in her direction, a determined gleam in his steely eyes.

  “What now?” she snapped, not in the mood for word games.

  He grinned, and the transforming effect on his demeanor made her breath come short. Bless my bones, Marla thought, but doesn’t he look smashing today. Her quick perusal absorbed his camel sport coat enlivened by a geometric-patterned cocoa-and-crimson tie. His beige dress shirt tucked into dark brown pants. As he neared, she caught a whiff of spice cologne.

  “I need a haircut. You busy?”

  Marla muttered an expletive under her breath. Just what I need, I’ll probably snip too much, and he’ll arrest me.

  “Not at the moment,” she crooned, recovering her composure. “Have a seat.” Waving to Lucille to put him down in her appointment book, she focused her attention on his hair. They discussed his style and she sent him to get shampooed.

 

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