Murder by Manicure

by Nancy J. Cohen

  "I hope it won't be too windy,” Tally remarked, glancing at the family of tourists occupying a row in front. Seats were rapidly being filled, which surprised Marla since it was a weekday night. Then again, this was tourist season, so all attractions were bound to be crowded.

  "Do you think Jolene's killer is on board?” she whispered.

  A frown centered on Tally's brow. “That seems unlikely."

  "You never know.” She gave a furtive glance to the boat's occupants: a mix of families, couples, and prearranged groups. People chattered in French and German while seagulls soared past. A lady in nautical attire sat next to Marla. The woman wore a red, white, and blue striped shirt with a gold embroidered anchor; navy pants; gold button earrings; and assorted necklaces that clinked when she moved. Great, thought Marla, now she and Tally wouldn't be able to talk in private.

  The ship's horn blew, making her nearly jump out of her skin. Slowly, the boat backed away from the dock. Over a loudspeaker, Captain Randy introduced himself and the crew, mentioning there were three hundred people aboard. Heading west, they cruised by a yacht basin and into the Intracoastal Waterway.

  "When will we reach the island?” Tally asked, checking her watch. “I'm hungry."

  "You can enjoy the barbecue while I look for Cookie. If I recall from a previous visit, there's a number of parrots in cages hanging from trees around the walkways. Then again, maybe Cookie tends the animals in the show. She didn't give a specific place to meet her.” Her gut clenched. “If Cookie uncovered a new piece of evidence, it's possible she tipped off the killer. Two people have died already. Someone is going to extremes, and I'm not even sure why."

  Tally's attention centered on the million-dollar mansions facing the water shaded by sea grapes, queen palms, and spindly Schefflera. Banana plants hung over the river's edge. Descriptive commentary on the loudspeaker contributed to the background clatter of the ship's engine and the passengers’ babble.

  "What did Eloise tell Vail?” Tally asked.

  "I'm not privy to that information. He doesn't confide in me. I should've asked Brianna. His daughter knows more about the case than anyone."

  "Smart kid."

  Tally's comment was meant to draw a reaction, but Marla merely stared at historic Stranahan House as they cruised by downtown Fort Lauderdale, known as the Venice of the South for its system of canals. Fortunately, the drawbridge was open, or they'd have been delayed. In her mind, an imaginary clock ticked away the minutes leading toward another disaster. The sooner they reached Cookie, the better.

  Passengers exploded off the boat when they reached the island on the New River, where a barbecue dinner and a variety show awaited them. Marla veered away from the mob, spotting a beautiful white cockatoo in a cage. Raucous bird cries blended with songlike chirps as she found a pair of lovebirds and a toucan further along the path. No sign of Cookie.

  Once everyone had herded into the main corral for the all-you-can-eat feast, Marla scoured the island. She and Tally split up to search the twisting gravel paths littered with dead leaves. Stars glinted in the night sky overhead, providing dim illumination for the heavily shaded trails. Skeletonlike branches stretched toward her, competing with thickly rooted ficus trees for domination.

  Maybe she'd have better luck looking backstage where Cookie might be preparing for the show. Wait, there's a sign partly hidden by that bougainvillea plant. It led to an alligator pit. Wouldn't it be in Cookie's nature to feed the creatures?

  With a purposeful stride, Marla ended up at the fenced-off crater. Peering over the edge, she wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her: a woman's body, lying on the ground face-down, clad in jeans and a sweater. Even in the dim light, she could identify Cookie's strawberry blond hair.

  Chapter Eighteen

  "I don't know how Cookie was killed,” Marla commented to Nicole the next morning at the salon. “The police interviewed me and Tally. Cookie's body was still pliable when they arrived, meaning she'd met her end shortly before I discovered her, but there weren't any overt signs of violence."

  Shuddering, Marla visualized the chaos that had followed after she'd notified the boat's crew. Then had come the fear that the murderer was still among them. Whoever had ambushed Cookie might stalk her next. Terror pursued her until she and Tally reached shore and the safety of her car.

  "I imagine Detective Vail wasn't too happy to hear the news,” Nicole said with a sympathetic grin. Cutting a client's hair at the next station, she snipped automatically.

  Marla paused, hairbrush in hand. Her next appointment hadn't arrived yet, and she'd been cleaning her counter.

  "All I heard from Dalton was how he'd warned me not to meet Cookie. Unlike the media, he's being very closemouthed about this case."

  "Yeah, I saw the news report earlier this morning. A woman was found dead in the alligator pit at the Royal Barge dinner cruise. That's going to hurt their business! Tourists will shy away until the commotion dies down."

  "Not necessarily,” Marla commented. “It may have the opposite effect."

  "Wasn't she the woman who picketed in front of your salon?” asked Nicole's customer, a scion of the community who'd been listening with interest.

  "Yep, that's her.” Marla clenched her teeth. No doubt the news story accounted for so many unexpected walk-ins today. Other folks wanted to assess her reaction. Normally, Thursdays tended to be quiet, but this morning had been incredibly hectic. While this wasn't the preferred method for increasing business at the cash register, Marla didn't begrudge the extra income.

  Cookie's demise wasn't the only news making the rounds.

  "Marla, I heard you and Arnie Hartman broke off your engagement,” said Abby Whitehall, one of Marla's clients, later that morning. Possessing boundless energy, the taller woman used up calories faster than a marathon runner. She'd been thin as long as Marla had known her.

  Giorgio piped in from across the room. “You should have heard Arnie moon over that blonde. Mama mía! I don't blame him.” His hands imitated an hourglass figure.

  "Is that so!” Abby exclaimed, her hazel eyes twinkling. “Arnie left you for another woman?"

  "No, that's not what happened at all,” Marla said. “I know Arnie likes Jill, I mean Hortense, and it doesn't bother me. He was upset because I'd spent the night at Dalton Vail's house."

  "Oh! You're sleeping with the detective?"

  "Marla, pick up the phone,” yelled the receptionist from the front desk. “It's Tally Riggs."

  "I'm in the middle of highlights. I'll call her back."

  "So give me the juicy details,” Abby urged, her gaze alight with curiosity. “Since when have you and Lieutenant Vail been a number? Are things really hot between you?"

  "Pretty warm right now, bubula. He's mad at me for sleuthing on my own last night."

  "Is he jealous over Arnie?"

  "Our personal life is irrelevant until he solves this case. I spent the night at his house because someone threw a bomb in my window. He did me a mitzvah, that's all. Nothing happened between us—especially with his daughter, Brianna, playing chaperon."

  "A bomb! Thank goodness you weren't hurt."

  It was lunchtime when she finally returned Tally's call, dialing the number for Dressed to Kill Boutique. “Have you heard anything new about Cookie?” Marla said when Tally answered.

  "No, sorry, I was hoping you'd spoken to Vail. That was so awful. I can't forget what the poor woman looked like, lying there like a broken doll.” A heavy silence fell. “Anyway, that's not why I called. That man was here today, the one who buys clothes for his girlfriend and tries them on."

  "What about him?"

  "I realized why he looks so familiar. I think I've seen this guy at the club!"

  "Perfect Fit?"

  "You got it."

  "Who is he? One of the members?"

  "I'm not sure. Want to go tonight? I'll skip my aura class."

  "Okay. That reminds me, I intend to stop by Eloise's office later. I'd like
to know where she was last night."

  As it turned out, Eloise wasn't to be found at her office, but she had signed in at the sports club when Marla and Tally showed up at seven o'clock that evening. Searching for her, they invaded the pool area, where a Splashfit class was underway—mostly senior citizens, it appeared from their uniformly gray hair. Steamy humidity mingled with a strong scent of chlorine as they passed the whirlpool, frothing and bubbling away.

  "Marla!” hissed a nearby voice.

  She whipped her head around and located the speaker, who was nearly submerged in the hot tub. Jill's blond hair was protected by a turban, and as she emerged from the water like a goddess, Marla noted that the head wrap provided more cover than her meager swimsuit. Jill grabbed a thick towel and draped it around her shapely torso.

  "What are you doing here?” Marla demanded. “Have you seen Eloise?"

  Jill waved a greeting to Tally. “I think Eloise went upstairs to use the machines. It's horrible about Cookie. You know, for a while I suspected her, but now...” Her voice trailed off.

  Tally met her eye to eye. “You haven't talked to Detective Vail today, have you? Marla's not had any luck getting in touch with him."

  "No, sugar. I had a nice schmooze with Arnie on the phone, though. That man is such a sweetheart. Do you know he asked me to attend his daughter's chorus concert?"

  "Did you accept?” Marla had always thought school functions were the most boring events.

  "Of course, and I'm so excited to meet his kids! I've always dreamed of having a family, but it didn't seem as though it would happen for me. Arnie may be a bit older, but that doesn't matter. He needs me."

  "Oh, joy.” Inwardly, Marla wished her luck. She had no desire to play mother to someone else's children or her own. Never mind that Brianna came with Dalton Vail. That didn't bear thinking about right now.

  They walked together toward the women's locker room. Being next to two statuesque blondes made Marla feel like a shrimp. She entered the locker room under the arch of Jill's arm holding open the door. A cool rush of air-conditioning dried her skin.

  "I wonder if Dalton is avoiding me. He blasted me on the phone last night for meeting Cookie. I told him you were with me, Tally, but it didn't make any difference. That man has to learn he can't control my actions. I'm not a schlemiel he can push around."

  "He cares for you,” inserted Jill, a lopsided smile on her face.

  Marla warmed toward her. The girl really could be nice when she exhibited her true feelings. “I know, but he shows it the wrong way.” Luck was with her; Eloise sat on a bench in the locker room, sprinkling yellow powder on her toes.

  "What is that stuff?” Marla blurted, seeking an answer to a question niggling in her mind.

  Eloise glanced up. Her hair, normally coiffed after a visit to the salon, hung in wet strands as though she'd just showered. “It's an antifungal powder. Don't spread it around,” she added facetiously.

  "Oh, gross! You have athlete's foot?” Jill wrinkled her nose.

  "Were you in here dusting that on your feet the night Jolene died?” Marla asked. “I saw some powder beneath her locker."

  Eloise frowned, emphasizing the age lines on her round face. “I may have used it then, but I can't remember."

  Plopping her bag on the bench, Marla signaled to Tally. “Go ahead and get changed if you want. I'll just be a minute.” She turned to Eloise after her friend had walked off with Jill. “What happened when you left with Detective Vail yesterday? You didn't return for your appointment."

  Hunching forward, Eloise hesitated before responding. “I was upset talking about Sam. The lieutenant seemed to think I might have been involved with his ... accident. I know how it must have looked, my disappearing like I did. First Jolene, then Sam, and I'd suspected they were having an affair. Well, I got scared after what I saw in the parking lot."

  Hoping to disguise her eagerness, Marla raised an eyebrow. “What was that?"

  "I'll explain in a minute. After meeting you in the restroom, I had an argument with Sam over his involvement with Jolene. He wouldn't talk about it, and I was furious. I left the restaurant. We'd driven in separate cars, because I came directly from showing a client one of our properties. When I walked toward my car, I noticed a movement near his Chevy."

  "You saw someone?"

  She nodded. “Hank Goodfellow. I thought I saw your friend, too."

  "Who?"

  "Hortense, isn't it?"

  "What was she doing?” Marla remembered Jill had excused herself from their table to retrieve a set of head shots from her car. She'd taken an inordinately long time in returning.

  Eloise, a conspiratorial twinkle in her eyes, lowered her voice. “I think she was spying on Hank. He was tinkering with Sam's engine. I just assumed Sam had a problem with his car, and he'd spoken to Hank in the restaurant. I thought Hank was fixing it, but instead he might have been fixing the bomb. Later, I started putting two and two together. Jolene was one of Hank's customers. Maybe she'd threatened to expose his little side business. As a result, he may have killed her and then Sam because they were close."

  Marla's gaze widened. “Did you tell Vail this?"

  Reaching for a pair of socks, Eloise tilted her head. “The lieutenant is aware of Hank's extracurricular activities. His bureau's been investigating the illegal sale of drugs from Hank's pharmacy. Vail believes Hank may have some connection but is not the murderer."

  "So why doesn't he bring Hank in for questioning?"

  "He's waiting for evidence against him, so he can use it as leverage to get the man to talk."

  "Is Hank here tonight?"

  "No, I haven't seen him.” Her eyes darted furtively about the room. “I wouldn't speak to him if I were you. He must be in cahoots with the killer."

  "Doesn't Vail believe Hank set the bomb that killed your husband?"

  "He mentioned something about trace evidence. I guess he's working on it but doesn't have solid proof."

  "Hey, Marla, you getting changed or not?” Tally called, rounding a corner and peering at them.

  "Where's Jill?” she asked. “Er, I mean Hortense. She prefers to be called by her middle name, you know."

  "Hortense went upstairs,” Tally explained patiently.

  "Eloise, be careful.” She felt the woman had been right to be afraid. Whoever killed Sam might believe his wife knew too much. “And if you have time, stop in at the salon tomorrow. I'll fit you into my schedule."

  "What was that all about?” Tally asked while Marla threw on her gym clothes.

  Quickly Marla reiterated what Eloise had told her. No one else was about, and they'd retreated to a distant corner of the locker room. “I'd like to get Gloria out of her office as we'd planned. Her files might tell us more about these people."

  "Right. I'll tell her I'm considering a full membership, and I need her to go upstairs with me to answer some questions about the equipment. It won't give you much time."

  Marla stuffed her bag into a locker and locked the door. After hoisting up her sweatpants, she pocketed the key. “Let's do it."

  Waiting until she was sure no one else was about, Marla slipped into Gloria's office after Gloria left with Tally. Examining the clutter on her desk, Marla hesitated. She didn't want to displace items, but where to start? Stars rippled on a computer monitor as though a screen saver had activated. Personnel files might be listed there instead of in that locked file cabinet in the corner. It was a place to begin.

  Seated at the desk, Marla swirled the mouse until the Windows desktop came into view. Looking under “My Documents” yielded unsatisfactory results. Perhaps she'd have better luck with a word processing program. Her heart rate increased when she hit the jackpot with a folder labeled “Staff” and another one, “Members.” Scrolling down the staff list, Marla noted Tesla's address given as the street number she knew to be Betsy's house. Well, that wasn't much help. The rest of the details were rather mundane, with names, addresses, contact numbers, positions,
and vacation schedules.

  Turning to the member file, Marla found a reference to a spreadsheet program. Hoping it wasn't anything complicated, she brought up another window and noticed a discrepancy between members’ initial fee dates and renewals.

  She'd left the door partially closed, and when it was suddenly yanked open, she jerked upright in surprise. Slate's large form darkened the doorway. He glared at her with knitted brows. As he approached, amber eyes blazing like those of a tiger ready to pounce, Marla noticed those brows were unusually dark. They didn't match the medium-brown hair slicked back off his forehead.

  Flushing guiltily, Marla clicked off the programs on screen, leaving the desktop icons displayed. Then she pushed herself up from the chair. “I, uh, was just admiring Gloria's computer system. I need to get a new one, and Gateway is one of my considerations."

  "Liar.” He stopped inches in front of her, fists clenched by his side. “What did you find out?"

  She thrust her chin forward. “What are you hiding? Tesla lives with you, but her address given is your friend Betsy's."

  "That's none of your business.” A sheen of sweat broke out on his upper lip.

  I'm getting to you, pal. “Tesla followed Amy one night. Did she tell you why?"

  "I don't have to answer your questions.” Grabbing her shoulders, he shook her until her teeth rattled.

  "You'd rather talk to Detective Vail? Get your hands off me, or I'll charge you with assault.” His height and shape merged with an image in her consciousness, and she gasped. “You're the one who attacked me with a broken bottle!"

  Instantly, he stepped away. “I should've finished the job in the parking lot. A few cuts to your pretty face, and you'd have had a lot more to worry about. You're too nosy for your own good. I figured I could scare you off."

  "Did you throw that Molotov cocktail through my window?"

  "Huh?"

  "Someone tossed a bomb into my house. The police have evidence. Would you care to confess now, or later in an interrogation room?"