11 Hanging by a Hair

by Nancy J. Cohen

“If so, then the supplier would be in the clear.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out. This sounds like material for a class-action lawsuit.”

  “Debbie said Alan didn’t want to waste association funds on attorneys.”

  “Individual homeowners could file together. But perhaps the veep will come to an agreement with one of the contractors.”

  Marla returned to the foremost issue on her mind. “Do you think the Board members are in the clear regarding Alan’s death? I mean, what would any of them have to gain?”

  “Other than Gene Uris stepping up to the presidency?” Dalton shrugged. “Kat is doing background checks but I’m not privy to her findings.”

  She heard the frustration in his tone. “I thought your pals were keeping you informed.”

  “Not lately, and besides, I’ve got my own case to work right now.” He patted his pocket. “I’ll have to go in if I get a call. Let’s relax for now and enjoy the day.”

  They strolled in silence, while Marla’s thoughts drifted to her own work-related issues. She’d had another incident with her recalcitrant stylist but hesitated to fire her. The salon would lose clients who were stubbornly loyal to the girl. What else could Marla do to bring her in line?

  “Is everything set for Brie’s birthday next weekend?” Dalton asked, regarding her with pride and affection.

  Her heart warmed to this man she’d married. Throwing her cares to the wind, she proceeded to discuss their upcoming luncheon plans.

  Monday found her going to the restaurant to confirm details for Brie’s party and then meeting Kate, her mother-in-law, elsewhere for lunch. Kate and John had been renting an apartment until they could find a condo to buy. Dalton’s mother had invited Marla to view several possibilities with her that afternoon.

  “I love the location near the water of this one place,” Kate gushed across the table from Marla at the Parisian Café on Las Olas Boulevard. They’d ordered their meals and sat sipping iced tea.

  Kate’s auburn hair was coiffed into a flattering style and her hazel eyes sparkled with excitement. She wore a teal patterned top and tan Capri pants. Gold jewelry and decorated flip flops completed her ensemble.

  “How many rooms does it have?”

  “Three bedrooms, which is great because we need space for John’s stained glass studio. But I’m not sure I’d like living in a high-rise.”

  “It would be very different from your house in Maine.”

  “I know. John loves the ocean view, and we’d be directly east of you in Fort Lauderdale, but I’d prefer a place with more activities.”

  “Some of the fancy buildings by the New River have their own movie theaters, exercise rooms, and pools. Have you looked into those? They probably hold events for residents.”

  Kate shook her head. “It doesn’t interest me. I’ve thought about Delray Beach. That city has a lot of cultural happenings along with interesting shops and restaurants. Plus, it isn’t too far away from you.” She paused as the waitress delivered their lunch plates.

  Marla picked up her fork and speared a piece of lettuce. She’d ordered a salad with mixed greens, Gouda cheese, avocado, turkey, candied pecans and dried cranberries. Kate bit into her grilled chicken and melted cheese sandwich. They ate for a few moments in silence.

  “How are the plans coming for Brianna’s party? Does she have any idea her friends are invited?” Kate asked in between bites.

  “If she does, she hasn’t let on. I can’t believe she’ll be old enough for a driver’s permit.”

  “Will Dalton allow her to get one?”

  “We haven’t discussed it. I plan to hire a driving instructor, though. I wouldn’t want Dalton to give her lessons.”

  “A wise idea. John taught Dalton how to drive, and it was a nightmare.” Kate chewed and swallowed. “I was planning to give Brianna money for her birthday unless you can think of something she wants?”

  “She’d love to get an iPhone. We told her she’d have to save up for one herself, so cash would be welcome. Since Brie likes to read, we’ve bought her an e-reader.”

  “I’d still rather hold a book in my hand, but she’ll like it.”

  A brief interlude ensued where they both enjoyed their meals. Kate’s bracelets clinked on her arm. Marla eyed them surreptitiously, wondering what she could buy for her mother-in-law when it was her birthday.

  “So tell me about this neighbor who ended up dead,” Kate said.

  Marla choked and sipped iced tea to chase the food down. “How much did Dalton tell you?”

  “Just that the guy was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to die that way. He hanged himself?”

  “Actually, Alan’s death is being treated as a homicide case.”

  “Oh?” Kate arched her eyebrows, a lighter shade than her hair.

  She should fill them in with a little brow pencil. Harnessing her thoughts, Marla informed Kate about their progress so far.

  “Dalton is still irked that he’s off the case,” Marla concluded.

  Kate’s lips pursed. “Nonetheless, it’s good policy to remove a detective who might be biased due to personal interests.” She lowered her voice. “Dalton didn’t get physical with the guy, did he?”

  Marla stared at her. “How can you say that? You know your son. Usually he’s the one who acts calm in a crisis.”

  “Yes, but this guy insulted you, and Dalton has a wicked protective instinct.”

  Marla stabbed a chunk of turkey with her fork. “Tell me about it.”

  “Did the nephew say he would remove the partial fence and the stone path?”

  “He promised to comply with the code. We’ll see if he follows through.”

  “Poor fellow probably has enough to handle.”

  “Alan was putting in a standby generator to keep his computers going in the event of a power failure. His gadgets were important to him. He also received lots of deliveries from UPS. I can’t help feeling those things are related, but I can’t figure the connection.”

  “I thought you said he was a retired insurance executive?”

  “That’s correct, and he made enough money to live comfortably. Then again, he didn’t have a family to support.”

  “Had he ever been married?”

  “No, he’d been engaged once to a Jewish woman. Would you believe it? Her parents disapproved and took the girl away to Europe. When she came back, I guess she broke off the engagement, because that was the end of their relationship.”

  “No wonder Krabber came down on you,” Kate said. “He must have hated it when you moved in next door.”

  “His nephew said Alan didn’t pursue anyone else after his broken engagement. It wasn’t for lack of opportunities, either. According to Cherry Hunter, our association treasurer, Alan was quite the ladies’ man.” Marla repeated their conversation.

  “So Krabber played around with women but didn’t ever get serious again. Hmm, I wonder . . .”

  “What?” Marla’s teeth crunched on a candied pecan.

  “Alan’s fiancée was removed to Europe. It brings to mind the days when parents swept their unwed daughters off to the Continent because they’d gotten pregnant. Could this be why she disappeared off the scene?”

  “But Alan meant to marry her. Why take her away if he’d make an honest woman of the girl?”

  “In her parents’ view, he might not raise a child in the proper religious tradition. What if their daughter had a son who needed to be circumcised? From what you’ve known of the fellow, can you imagine Krabber approving such a practice?”

  “Maybe he’d have converted to please his fiancée. Alan might have married her even sooner knowing she carried his child. Her folks took that choice from him.”

  “Have you considered another possibility? He didn’t know about the baby at all?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  “Thanks for meeting me here, Lieutenant.” Marla wrapped a hand around her coffee cup and regarded Detective Minnetti, seated acros
s from her at Starbucks. She’d chosen a couple of comfy armchairs away from the crowd lined up by the cashier.

  Thursdays were her late day at work, so she had time in the morning to meet the detective. She’d been too busy the previous few days to follow up on her mother-in-law’s notion. She decided to go directly to the homicide detective with her information. It could be something . . . or nothing. Minnetti could decide. Marla would mention it to Dalton later, if Minnetti felt her lead was worthwhile.

  “What have you got?” Minnetti went directly to the point. She wore a pencil skirt with a cranberry blouse and black jacket.

  Did she ever dress casually? Marla wondered how best to start.

  She reported her findings to date, while expressions ranging from curiosity to surprise to disapproval flickered across the woman’s face. Minnetti sipped from her cup of black coffee during Marla’s recital.

  “I can see how you’ve been helpful to your husband,” Minnetti said with a slight smile. “Your theory is interesting, but I’m not sure we can trace this woman. Krabber was sixty-seven years old when he died. This would have been, what, forty years ago?”

  “There must be something you can do to discover more about her. Where did Krabber grow up? Can you interview people who knew him back then? Did he leave a school yearbook among his possessions? Or a collection of old love letters?”

  The lieutenant assessed Marla with her shrewd brown eyes. “We’ve been researching anyone connected to him in his adult life. Old girlfriends, for example. Word has it that Cherry Hunter was interested in him at one time, but none of his flings led to anything serious.”

  “This goes further back into his past. Have you asked the nephew about memorabilia?”

  The detective pursed her lips. “I can query him on the topic, but what’s the point? Let’s say the fiancée had a child while in Europe. She might have given it up for adoption.”

  “Or else she brought the baby home and married a guy who raised the kid as his own. Her parents were wealthy. They could have provided a financial incentive to this new suitor.”

  “Where are you going with this idea?”

  “What if the child, once grown, was determined to find his biological father after learning he’d been adopted? He could have approached Krabber and been rebuffed. Krabber may not have cared about any offspring from the woman who rejected him.”

  “And then the kid killed Krabber out of resentment?” Minnetti shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense. What would he gain?”

  “Revenge? Maybe he believed Krabber had deserted his mother, and not the other way around. There wouldn’t be any monetary incentive since Philip Byrd is the heir. Has anyone made a claim against the will?”

  Minnetti cast her a startled glance. “I don’t think so, but I’ll talk to the attorney again.”

  “This may be a dead end, but it’s worth pursuing. My husband always says to examine all the angles.” Marla put her cup down and leaned forward. “I wish you’d trust him, Kat.” She used the woman’s first name on purpose.

  “It’s more a matter of him trusting me. He needs to let me do my job without sending you along as interference.”

  Marla stiffened. “Excuse me? Dalton doesn’t know I’m meeting with you. I thought I’d give you the respect due your position and come to you directly with this information.”

  “And I appreciate that, but I also realize you’re aiming to bring your husband back on the team. The chief is right to keep him out of it. He had personal feelings against the victim. Besides, he’s working another homicide right now.”

  “The two of you are supposed to be partners. How will you watch each other’s backs if you can’t learn to work together?”

  “That’s not your issue.” Minnetti’s lips pressed together and her expression shuttered.

  Marla sought a way to ease the tension that had sprung up between them. “Were you able to glean any data from Alan’s computers, Kat? I’m curious as to what he did online all day.”

  “So am I. We’re working on it. Meanwhile, do you have anything else to add?”

  “What about the UPS deliveries? Have you tracked Alan’s shipments to where the packages originated?” Marla heard a desperate edge creep into her voice. She wasn’t going to learn any more from this conversation than going in.

  Minnetti gave an exasperated shake of her head. “Let it go, hon. You know I can’t discuss details about the case.”

  “Wait, I forgot to tell you that the fiancée who spurned Alan was Jewish. That might help you learn her identity.”

  “Actually, that is useful. It gives me an understanding of the deceased’s attitude at the homeowners’ meeting.”

  “See? I can be helpful.”

  “Oh, you’ve been helpful in more ways than one. But you’re also meddling in affairs that shouldn’t concern you. Focus on your family, Marla, and not on your husband’s job. You never know when someone you love might be snatched away from you.”

  She rose and stalked away as Marla stared after her, wondering at the bittersweet tone of her last words. An urge to learn more about the woman grasped her, but it would be tough when Minnetti’s emotional armor was so hard to penetrate.

  Work occupied her time for the rest of the day, and then Marla got caught up in plans for Brie’s birthday. She bought packs of flavored lip gloss as favors for Brie’s friends. And then the day arrived, sunny and warm, a perfect Sunday for lunch on the Intracoastal.

  Marla picked up her mother and headed over to the restaurant ahead of time. Dalton was bringing Brie after she finished her homework, or at least that was the excuse for their later arrival. Marla wanted to make sure enough seats had been placed around the tables. At final count, there would be sixteen guests.

  “I’m sorry Roger couldn’t make it, but at least he called you.” She gripped the steering wheel while sparing a glance at her mother.

  Anita hadn’t said much, sitting on the passenger side with taut lips and a firm expression. She wore a canary yellow ensemble with green trim, reminding Marla of a parakeet. That made her think of Philip Byrd and his save the rainforests cause. How would he use his uncle’s money? Would he put it toward his retirement savings? Buy himself a bigger home? Donate some of the funds to his nonprofit group?

  Stop that, Marla, and focus on family. Minnetti was right; you never knew when happiness could be snatched away.

  “So what did Roger say?” Marla probed, hoping to elicit a response and break through her mother’s frost.

  “He’d been busy with his sister who’s in town. But when I said I’d like to meet her, he muttered an excuse.” Anita’s gaze lowered. “He sounded distant, as though he didn’t care anymore. I think he called just so I’d stop pestering him.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma. But if that’s his attitude, you’re better off by yourself.”

  Marla aimed a few venomous thoughts in Roger’s direction. She hadn’t liked him all that much, thinking him loud and obnoxious, but he’d pleased her mother and kept her company. Now she’d be lonely, her days empty, unless she threw herself into some other activity.

  It took them nearly an hour to reach Jasmine’s on the Intracoastal in Hollywood. The last Sunday in March had brought out a crowd, but Marla found a parking space without a problem. Carrying her gift for Brianna and the box of bagged party favors, she entered the sprawling restaurant.

  Marla nudged her mother toward the maître d’ at the host stand. The dark-haired man’s face brightened as he spotted her. He wore a sport coat over a tropical shirt and tan pants.

  “Hello, Carlos, this is my mom, Anita Shorstein.” Marla waited until they’d exchanged greetings. “Is everything ready? My daughter should be here shortly.”

  “Of course. Follow me, please.”

  With a grand, sweeping gesture, Carlos ushered them into a private room in the back. The space had an expansive bank of windows facing the famed waterway. A double-deck tourist boat plowed past, bursting with visitors. Across the glisten
ing water, a mega-yacht parked at a dock by a private residence. Most houses facing the windows were mansion proportions by her standards.

  Fort Lauderdale was known as the “Yachting Capital of the World.” Most tourists didn’t realize that the marine industry was the leading form of commerce there. Marla had read once that it contributed more than one hundred thousand jobs and over ten billion dollars to the local economy. With three hundred miles of waterways and plentiful marine repair facilities, Fort Lauderdale was a popular international port of call.

  She took her dreamy gaze away from the windows and beamed at Brianna’s friends, who’d assembled in readiness for the birthday girl’s arrival. Kate and John hadn’t arrived yet, nor had her brother’s family, but it didn’t matter if they encountered Brie on their way in. She expected them to be present.

  Marla hugged each of the girls, complimenting their hair or clothes and generally making each one feel welcome. Then she checked over the table settings. The waiter chose that moment to zoom inside and ask if everything was all right. Marla reviewed her instructions with him as the girls resumed their chatting and laughter.

  She glanced up when her brother Michael entered with his wife, Charlene. A grin split her face as she hastened over to greet them.

  “Where are the kids?” Marla peered around her brother’s tall frame, but Jacob and Rebecca were nowhere in sight.

  “They’re with my parents today.” Charlene smoothed her sundress. Her tawny eyes brought out the golden highlights in her oak hair, which she wore straight down her back. “We thought it best not to disrupt the party with small kids. Besides, I could use a day off from children, if you know what I mean.” Charlene, thirty-four, worked as an elementary school teacher and hoped to make principal one day.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve seen my niece and nephew. I’d looked forward to visiting with them.”

  “You can see them at Passover. Where are we doing it this year, anyway?”

  “I thought I’d invite everyone over to our house. Cousin Cynthia hasn’t seen our new place, and neither have you guys. Can you believe Cynthia’s son is graduating college this year?”