Murder by Manicure

by Nancy J. Cohen

  When Lindsay realized what Marla intended, she regained her senses. “Bitch!” she screamed, ignoring the weapon Marla brandished. Lowering her head, she rushed forward.

  Marla swung the gun, banging it against Lindsay's ear. Stunned, Lindsay staggered back. Realizing she still needed to stop the woman, Marla raised her knee and thrust a foot into her assailant's stomach. With a grunt, Lindsay careened backward into the booth. Its interior, surrounded by ultraviolet lights arranged in vertical rows, and with a metal mesh floor, permitted standing room only. Marla slammed the door shut. Spying a tall Detecto scale nearby, she shoved it along the floor until it blocked the booth's exit.

  There, she thought, that should keep Lindsay temporarily.

  Noticing her fingers trembling as they held the gun, Marla dropped it into a receptacle. First she'd call for help from the reception desk, then she'd find a tool to cut Brianna's bonds. Maybe Vail would consider bringing his paperwork home on weekends hereafter. It wasn't wise to leave the girl alone—not that he'd listen to her advice.

  When the police finally arrived, Vail was driving his own car. The first words out of his mouth reminded her of Stan.

  "I can't trust you to stay out of trouble, can I?” His remonstrative tone set her nerves on edge. “No sooner do you walk out of my office door than you step in sheep dip."

  Marla wasn't quelled by his furious glance. Standing in the lobby, she squared her shoulders. “You mean drek, don't you? Shouldn't you be more concerned for your daughter?"

  "Huh? What's Brianna got to do with this?"

  Brianna chose that moment to pop into view. Marla had opened one of the massage suites and suggested the child rest until the authorities arrived. At the sight of her slim figure in jeans and sweater with her braid askew, Vail's face paled. Hadn't he ever considered that his family might be vulnerable because of his job? A good reason not to get more involved with him, Marla's inner voice replied. But her resolve dissipated as Brianna came to her defense.

  "Give her a break, Daddy. Marla just saved my life."

  Vail's eyebrows lifted heavenward, while Marla felt tears threaten for the second time that night. Would wonders never cease?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  "So why did Lindsay do it?” Arnie asked, his arm draped around Jill's shoulder.

  Marla, who sat next to Dalton Vail at the Macaroni Grill, regarded Arnie and Jill across from them. Also part of their group celebration were Tally and Ken, and Dr. Crone and her husband, who'd driven down from Vero Beach so Hortense could finally confront Arnie in person.

  "She had a deal going with Jolene,” Marla explained. “Both of them felt as though they should have received more recognition at work. Jolene sold trade formulas guarded by her company. In return, Lindsay sold lab test data that Jolene substituted for her own reports. Their deal went sour when Jolene learned Lindsay's identity through their mutual manicurist and demanded more money."

  "Ironic, isn't it?” Tally put in, her long hair secured in a French twist. “People you confide in, like your manicurist or hairdresser"—she glanced at Marla—"can blab to the next person and seal your fate."

  Marla sipped her Coke. “Professionals don't spread gossip. That won't happen in my salon."

  "Yeah, right!” Tally laughed. “Where else do you get some of the best information to help you solve these cases?"

  "Marla's not a schnook,” Arnie said, coming to her defense. “She's talking about her staff, not the customers."

  Marla addressed Jill, who seemed perfectly happy nestled in the curve of Arnie's arm. “Please stop in for a complimentary session. Your highlights look as though they could use a lift, and those ends need trimming. I'd like to show you what I can do.” She smiled graciously.

  "Sure, Marla, when I have a chance. Work is keeping me busy, and I've talked my boss into giving me flexible hours so I can go to auditions. This past week has been hectic."

  In the week since Lindsay was arrested, Jill had blossomed into a truly delightful person. No longer putting on false airs to gain information, she'd become a frequent visitor to Bagel Busters during her off-hours. Her trip to Vero Beach last weekend had been fruitful in that she'd finally convinced Hortense, once she realized Lindsay had set her on a false trail, to visit Palm Haven to meet Arnie.

  Their meals arrived, and everyone dug in voraciously. His mouth stuffed, Arnie fielded a question to Hortense. “Do you feel satisfied now that your cousin's murderer is in jail?"

  The scientist wiped a dribble of tomato sauce off her chin. “Yes, I do, and Jill helped explain to Stockhart Industries executives how Jolene had been falsifying reports. They agreed to make amends in their animal testing methods. From what you told me about her, I think Cookie would have been happy."

  Marla's appetite lagged. Three people were unjustly dead, and Eloise had lost her husband. She'd stopped in to get her hair done and told Marla how she'd already felt estranged from Sam. His loss didn't disturb her as much as his involvement in another nasty scheme. He could have exposed Lindsay, but he didn't do so because it would have meant revealing his role. Yet if he'd talked, he might still be alive. Eloise had wondered whether they might have been able to reconcile his past and move on.

  That opportunity was gone now, but there were others. Arnie glowed in Jill's presence, and their relationship seemed headed in a good direction. He'd finally met the real Hortense, who'd laughingly admitted her high school crush on him.

  The only downside was Brianna, who'd wanted to drop out of dance school. Marla figured a different teacher would take over Lindsay's classes. She'd encouraged the girl to finish the year, buying a ticket to her recital to clinch the argument.

  "Is Brianna okay?” she asked Vail, who'd been unusually quiet. He'd brought his daughter to the restaurant, unwilling to leave her home alone. She was sitting at a separate table with Josh and Lisa, Arnie's children.

  "She'll be fine.” His molten gray eyes avoided hers.

  She noticed he'd barely touched his meal. This was the first time any of his cases had hit home, and it had struck him hard. Doubtless there were counselors in his department who could help if necessary, but he'd probably rebound on his own. He'd need to rewire his thinking about his daughter's safety without getting obsessive; that's all.

  "I'm sure you've warned her about strangers,” Marla said, covering his hand with hers. “But someone you're familiar with is trickier. My mom and I used to have a special code. If anyone said my mother had sent for me, I could believe them only if they gave the proper phrase."

  "That sounds like Anita.” He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Brianna said you bought a ticket to her recital. That was kind of you."

  "Actually, I bought two tickets. I thought I'd bring my mother along. She likes dance concerts.” And it won't hurt for Ma to meet your daughter—not that I'm getting so involved with you. Her brow creased as a memory tugged at her.

  "What is it?"

  "My mother left a message on my machine. She has something important to tell me. In my haste to get ready for tonight, I forgot to return her call."

  "Want to use my cell phone?"

  "No, thanks. I'll get back to her in the morning. She'll want to hear about this evening anyway.” She gave him a coy glance. “I'm glad you're not working late hours these days."

  He grinned, his eyes lighting up with pleasure. “I was putting in too much overtime. It feels good to lighten the load for a change. Now I'll have more time to spend with the people I care about."

  His affectionate gaze made her squirm. “Brianna got you a seat for the dance recital. I hope you won't have to work late then."

  "I'll make it a point to be there. By the way, didn't you mention you'd help me plan Brianna's thirteenth birthday party?"

  She groaned inwardly. “I guess I did. When is it?"

  "After yours, which is in a few weeks, I believe?"

  Arnie interrupted. “Remember, Jill and I have a date with you guys for Marla's birthday dinner."


  "I'll just gain more weight,” she griped, but a smile lit her face.

  Vail's gaze leisurely traveled her body, which she'd shown off to advantage in a black sheath. “It looks to me as though those workouts have been beneficial. Are you and Tally intending to become permanent members at Perfect Fit?"

  "I don't know about you,” Marla said to her friend, who was grinning at them, “but I've had enough exercise classes to last a lifetime."

  "Me, too,” Tally agreed, “but what else can we do to stay in shape?"

  "I have a great idea. Let's speed-walk in the Fashion Mall. It'll be more fun to climb the escalators at Macy's than struggling with a StairMaster. Besides, I'm in the mood for a shopping binge."

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  Following Marla's example, I joined a health club for a trial membership. My conclusion is the same as hers: I'd rather speed-walk in the mall or take my dog for a stroll! Regarding Marla's excursion to Vero Beach, this seaside town is one of my favorite Florida weekend getaways. Back in Fort Lauderdale, if you want to experience the same dinner cruise Marla took with Tally, check out the Jungle Queen.

  If you're interested in learning more about animal testing, visit the web site for PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals), at www.peta.com. For a discussion of animal testing in the cosmetics industry, see this useful book Don't Go to the Cosmetics Counter Without Me by Paula Begoun. Her Web site is www.cosmeticscop.com.

  As for Marla and Dalton, stay tuned for the fourth installment in the Bad Hair Day Mysteries to see what happens next in their developing relationship. Her pretend engagement to Arnie is nothing compared to the masquerade she plays in BODY WAVE. Someone close to Marla is in trouble, and when she investigates, it seems her friends harbor more secrets than the suspects.

  I love to hear from readers. Write to me at: P.O. Box 17756, Plantation, FL 33318. Please enclose a self-addressed, stamped #10 business-size envelope for a personal reply.

  E-mail: ncane@att.net

  Web site: nancyjcohen.com

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