11 Hanging by a Hair

by Nancy J. Cohen

  He winced. “You’re right, as usual. Man, how did we luck out? He’s such a jerk.”

  “We don’t know for sure that he’s responsible. It could have been anyone. Let’s just dispose of the bag and pretend like it never happened. That’ll deflate his balloon.”

  Brianna shuffled into the kitchen in her pajamas. Dalton’s fourteen-year-old daughter cringed at the bright light. “Why are you so loud in the morning?”

  “Sorry.” Dalton pointed to the tea kettle–shaped clock mounted on the wall. “You’re running late. I’ll have to drive you to school again. Go and get dressed.”

  “I’m taking the dogs out.” Marla gave her a warm smile. “Do you want scrambled eggs? I can make them as soon as I get back.” She’d inherited the teen along with her husband. It still amazed her that she had taken on the role of stepmother.

  “Okay, and I’ll have whole wheat toast, please.” Brianna headed toward her bedroom.

  Dalton opened the garage door, donned a pair of gardening gloves, and threw the offensive bag in the trash. Marla took the dogs out through the garage and strode down the street with them until they did their business. She didn’t go near Krabber’s house, heading in the opposite direction. The street was quiet except for an older couple. She guessed they were dedicated walkers from their running shoes and brisk pace.

  She sighed, regarding the pristine neighborhood. They’d been delighted to find new housing since Palm Haven was mostly built out. While construction had started here two years ago, empty lots had still been available when she and Dalton had come looking. Evidently, Alan Krabber had been one of the earlier residents. He must have made out well before he retired, because he owned the only two-story house on the block.

  The morning’s incident fled from her mind when she went into work at ten o’clock. Time raced by as it always did on weekends. Friday and Saturday were hectic at the salon. On Sunday, she and her new family went shopping. While she and Dalton had supplied many of the furnishings for their new home from their previously separate households, they still lacked necessities like a lamp table for the living room and a file cabinet for the home office. They enjoyed searching for accessories together.

  Finally, she could relax alone on Monday after Dalton had gone to work and Brianna to school. She hoped to catch up on bookkeeping from the salon and to figure out what they needed to do next on the house.

  Her peace shattered mid-morning when a banging noise sounded outside. Oh, great. Construction must have resumed on their neighbor’s standby generator. Krabber had been waiting for the propane tank to be delivered. Having a backup power source was desirable in South Florida, where hurricanes could knock out power for days at a time. Marla had considered installing a unit herself until she’d learned about the twenty-thousand-dollar price tag.

  She rushed to the window in Brianna’s room and peeked through the blinds. Dirt was still piled in mounds around the hole in Krabber’s backyard, so the noise didn’t originate there. Her stomach knotted as she viewed a couple of brawny men erecting a wood fence between their houses. Her eyes narrowed as she assessed the distance.

  Considering how their sprinklers were so far over, toward Krabber’s property, she and Dalton had done a survey. It revealed that their neighbor had erected his path of round stones partially on their land. Dalton had requested Krabber move the pavers to his side of the boundary, but so far, he’d done nothing. And now this!

  Back in the kitchen, Marla grabbed her house keys and cell phone. She darted outside to confront the two workmen. Perspiration ran down their swarthy faces. Their truck, parked at the curb, showed no visible license plate.

  “Hello, I live next door.” She pointed to her house. “Isn’t that fence going to put our sprinkler pipes on Mr. Krabber’s side of the property? Look, you can see where the heads are located.” The grass cutters had cut a clear strip around them.

  The taller guy paused, a hammer in his hand. “You’ll have to talk to the boss about it. We’re just doing what he hired us to do.”

  “Do you have a permit?”

  The guys glanced at each other, then the first one spoke. “You don’t need no permit for a fence this size. See? It’ll extend from that one already fixed along the rear boundary. If you need to get to your sprinklers, you can come through the gate.”

  “I can’t do that! I’d be trespassing on Mr. Krabber’s property. This makes no sense whatsoever.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you sure about the permit? I thought the city required one for any kind of construction.”

  “Only for fences of a certain length, miss. This here is under the regulation footage.”

  Was that true? Could she be mistaken?

  She glared at them, but they’d resumed their banging. “I want to see his survey. It should clearly show our property line.” She’d raised her voice to be heard.

  The foreman—if that’s what he was—pulled a soiled piece of paper from his pocket and shoved it in her face. “See, we got one.”

  Marla squinted in the sunlight. “This looks like a drawing of the fence. If I’m not mistaken, it will intrude on our property. You have to stop construction immediately.”

  The laundry room door burst open and Krabber sauntered outside. “What’s causing the ruckus? Lady, I can hear you hollering all the way inside my house.”

  “Did you get an official survey before hiring these men? Because I have one, and this fence looks to be on our land.”

  “Is that so?” Krabber’s double chin rippled as he spoke, his squirrel-like eyes scrunched under his wide brow. Crumbs dotted his sport shirt.

  “See where my sprinkler heads are located? The piping will clearly end up behind your fence. You’re violating the property line, same as with that path there.”

  He shrugged. “I just assumed the boundary ran halfway between our houses.”

  “Well, you assumed wrong. Your piece of land is smaller than ours.”

  “I’ll check into it. Meanwhile, boys, get that fence up as planned. We can always move it later. Then be sure to plant my hedge before you go.”

  Marla glanced into his yard and blinked twice. She hadn’t noticed that lineup of potted plants from Brie’s bedroom window.

  “You’re not planting ficus, are you? That’s the worst kind of tree to edge your lawn. They’re a nuisance to maintain. The roots will extend toward our house and may end up cracking our sprinkler pipes. I thought those trees were on the city’s disapproved list?”

  Krabber jabbed a finger in the air. “Look, nobody can tell me what I can plant in my yard. They’re allowable if I keep them trimmed.”

  Oh, right. And you’re going to pay your grass cutters to trim the branches on my side of the fence?

  She compressed her lips. These workmen could be lying about the permit. Considering how their truck had no visible tag, she’d guess they were fly-by-night laborers willing to do any job that paid cash.

  “I’m calling Dalton.” She whipped out her cell phone. “Your stone path also infringes on our property. This is getting out of hand.”

  If Krabber didn’t make amends, she and Dalton would be forced to file a code violation. Marla would rather avoid that unpleasantness. Normally, she wouldn’t bother Dalton at work, but this construction had to be stopped before the fence became a permanent fixture.

  The UPS truck chose that moment to squeal to a halt in front of Krabber’s house. He stomped toward the front to retrieve a package while she dialed Dalton’s office number.

  Fortunately, her husband was available and made it home within twenty minutes.

  Krabber had disappeared inside his house with his parcel. She quickly filled Dalton in on the details and then turned to the workmen, who regarded the newcomer with wary expressions.

  “Guys, this is my husband, Detective Dalton Vail with the Palm Haven police force.”

  The workmen exchanged startled glances. Her words had the galvanizing effect of making them pack up their tools. Wood planks littered
the ground.

  The foreman rapped on the laundry room door. “Yo, Mr. Krabber. You’re needed out here.”

  Krabber waddled outside, his forehead creased. “Are you still here?” he said to Marla.

  “Yes, I am. You remember my husband, Dalton.”

  “How could I forget? Whaddya want, buddy?”

  Across the street, the garage door rumbled open. Jeanie, a stay-at-home mom, emerged outside. She waved at Marla from the driveway, where she appeared with her two children in tow. Marla waved back, offering a stiff grin. Jeanie set out a lawn chair while her kids—a boy and a girl—stooped over the asphalt to draw something with chalk. Watching them, a wave of nostalgia hit Marla. She’d played hopscotch on the sidewalk in her youth.

  Her attention swung back to Dalton, who addressed Krabber in a reasonable tone. “The city requires a permit for any type of fencing. Do you have one?”

  “These guys say I don’t require a permit for a fence this size.”

  “That’s right.” The foreman shot a dark glance at his partner. “And since the last hurricane, you don’t need approval for any work under twenty-five hundred dollars.”

  “That’s hogwash.” Dalton shook his head. “No matter the size or the cost, a permit is required. You’re operating illegally if you don’t have one.”

  The foreman turned to Krabber. “We want our money, dude. You can settle this after we leave.”

  Krabber scowled at him. “I don’t owe you anything. You didn’t finish the job, and our agreement said payment upon completion.”

  The foreman’s shoulders hunched. “You’re not thinking of stiffing us, are you? Because if so, I know what you’ve been—”

  “Hey, you’ll get paid. I’d planned to go to the bank later this afternoon. Come back tomorrow. We should have this sorted out by then.”

  “Are you guys licensed and insured?” Dalton focused on the two men with laser intensity. “If so, I’d like to see that license. You should know better than to put up a fence without a survey or a permit.”

  “Sure, we’ll go get it.” Without a backward glance, they hightailed it to their truck, hopped in, and sped away before Marla thought to point out to Dalton the missing tag.

  Dalton snorted, as though he’d known their type. Returning his attention to their neighbor, he raised his eyebrows. “How about showing us your so-called ‘survey’?” While waiting for a reply, he folded his arms across his chest and stood with his feet spread apart.

  Krabber slipped inside his house through the side door and reappeared within minutes. He waved a document in the air, flicking it at Dalton rather fast. Marla caught a glimpse of an official looking paper.

  “Here, I have one. So back off, buddy.”

  Dalton remained firm, his face as stony as those round pavers on Krabber’s path. “This fence and that trail extend onto our property. Remove them both, or we’ll sue for compliance.”

  Marla tapped his arm. “Dalton, he’s planning to put ficus trees near our boundary. See?”

  Dalton’s voice rose. “You’re doing everything you can to decrease the value of our property. And when is that hole going to be filled in, huh? It’s an accident waiting to happen.”

  Krabber’s face purpled and his veins protruded. “Lots of folks have standby generators in South Florida. We’re following standard procedure.”

  “He’s right, Dalton.” Marla spoke in a mollifying tone as her husband looked about ready to pop out of his skin. “If he agrees to move his fence, get a proper survey and permit, and change the location of those stones, we’ll be satisfied.”

  “Don’t think because you’re our association president that you can break the rules,” Dalton said. “I know guys like you. You’ll stomp on anyone who gets in your path. Well, I won’t stand idly by while you make an exception of yourself. No matter what it takes, I’ll see that you comply with the law.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  “Dalton, what’s wrong with you? Normally you’re the one who calms people in a situation.” Surely her husband had reason to be upset with their neighbor, but usually he kept his cool. Hoping he wasn’t short-tempered because he regretted the changes in his life, Marla strode beside him on the way back to their house.

  He must have heard the quiver in her tone because inside their foyer, he spun to face her. “You’re right. I’ve been on a short fuse lately, and I should have told you why sooner.”

  Uh, oh. She swallowed her doubts, waiting to hear him out.

  His jaw tightened. “I have a new partner at work.”

  “So? That’s good news, isn’t it?” Relief washed through her. Was that all? His tense mood had nothing to do with her or their marriage?

  He grimaced. “Not in this case. I’d hoped it might be temporary, and you wouldn’t need to know.”

  “Dalton, I want to know everything that affects you. It hurts me when you bottle things up, and then I worry that I’m the cause.”

  He shook his head. “Never. You’re my solace and my strength. I didn’t want to add to your burdens.”

  Her mouth pursed. “Then don’t keep your problems from me. We’re here for each other, remember? Anyway, I thought you had taken on more administrative duties. Why would you even need a partner?”

  “The captain felt we were too short-staffed after Sergeant Weber’s retirement.”

  Marla had attended the officer’s farewell party with Dalton, but she still didn’t understand why he’d be disturbed by the assignment. “Is this person anyone I know?”

  “Lieutenant Minnetti transferred from another precinct. Katherine Minnetti.”

  “Oh.” Her brow folded. “You’ve worked with female officers before, so what’s different this time?” Did the woman’s equal rank bother him? That shouldn’t matter.

  “You’ll understand when you meet her.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to get back. It’s her first week, and I’m supposed to be showing her the ropes.”

  “Give it time, Dalton. You’re good at what you do. You always notice those little details other people miss. She can learn a lot from you.”

  His face softened. “And you always make me feel better about things.” He drew her into his arms for a lingering kiss.

  Held so securely, Marla wished he didn’t have to leave. She inhaled his male scent, spice cologne mixed with Irish Spring soap, and a warm glow filled her. How gratifying to be involved in his life and to be able to offer comfort. She wanted nothing more than to retreat to the bedroom and show the man how much she cared.

  “I’ll stop by code enforcement on my way to the station,” Dalton said, his tone husky as he broke their embrace.

  “Will you be home for dinner?”

  “I should be. We don’t have any cases right now, so it’s a good opportunity to train Kat and to get caught up on paperwork.”

  “All right. I’m sorry to have called you away from your desk.”

  Giving her a lazy grin, he stroked her cheek. “Don’t ever be sorry. We’re a team now.”

  Her heart sang as she observed his tall figure retreating down the driveway toward his sedan. She shut the front door, her mind turning to the myriad tasks ahead.

  With quiet descending over the neighborhood once more, she got a lot accomplished. In fact, it wasn’t until the next day that Alan Krabber again entered her thoughts. She went to take the dogs out in the morning and noticed a rescue truck next door.

  Oh, dear. Had the man experienced a heart attack? An accident? Maybe he’d fallen into that dangerous pit in his backyard. As she stood gaping, a police car pulled up to the curb, parked, and disgorged two officers.

  Yanking on the dogs’ leashes, she rushed back inside the house to summon her husband. Brianna was in the kitchen, where the heady aroma of brewed coffee scented the air. The teen, spooning cereal into her mouth, glanced up at Marla’s hasty entrance. Brie took one look at Marla’s face and put her utensil down.

  “Marla, what’s wrong?”

&nbs
p; “Where’s your father? Is he dressed yet?”

  “I’m right here.” His tall frame filled the doorway. He wore a sky blue dress shirt tucked into black trousers. He’d brushed his peppery hair off his forehead.

  “Something’s happened at Alan’s house. There’s a police car and a rescue truck.”

  “Damn.” He patted his pockets. “Where’s my cell phone? I might have gotten a call.”

  “It’s probably still on the night stand. Funny, I didn’t hear any sirens, did you?”

  “Nope.” He disappeared and returned several minutes later, his face somber.

  “What is it?” She put down the dish towel in her hand.

  “I’m afraid it’s bad news. Alan Krabber is dead.”

  Marla clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, no. That’s impossible. Why, we just spoke to him the other day.”

  “That’s horrible, Dad.” Brianna stared at her father.

  “I know.” Dalton gave the two of them a cautionary glare. “I’m meeting my partner next door. We’ll conduct a preliminary investigation. It’s routine for cases like this.”

  Despite the chills running up and down her spine, Marla’s curiosity overwhelmed her. She wanted to meet the woman but knew Dalton wouldn’t allow her into a crime scene. Wait a minute. Did that mean their neighbor had been killed?

  “Was Alan murdered?” she asked in a hoarse tone.

  “It appears to be a possible suicide. I’ll know more once I check out the scene.” Dalton compressed his mouth, going into work mode. She could see it in his stony eyes.

  Marla’s gut churned. She couldn’t believe Alan was gone. But a suicide victim? He’d given no indication of depression yesterday. He wouldn’t have been doing all that construction without planning to stick around, would he? Then again, how well had they truly known him?

  “Guys, I’ll be late for school.” Brie took her empty bowl to the sink.

  Marla gestured. “Get your backpack. I’ll give you a ride to the bus stop.” The dogs nudged her, their leashes trailing on the floor. “Poor babies. We really need to fence in our yard to let them out.”