11 Hanging by a Hair

by Nancy J. Cohen

  She made it across the expanse of lawn that seemed to have expanded into a football field. Her stomach heaved as nausea rose up to greet her. She swayed, tempted to topple over and let darkness overtake her. The steps to her porch wavered in her vision.

  The image of Dalton kept her going. She made it to her front door and all the way inside to the kitchen.

  Surprisingly, the dispatcher on the other end of the phone understood her garbled message and sent the paramedics.

  She still had the oxygen mask on when Dalton arrived home at her urgent summons. His white face loomed in her sight.

  “Marla, what happened?”

  One of the medics, writing out a report, signaled to him. “Your wife suspected someone was inside the house next door and went to investigate. She ended up with a bruise on her head and lying on the garage floor. A car engine had been left on. She’s lucky to have made it back outdoors.”

  Another EMT monitored her blood pressure. She recognized him as Kevin Jones, the same man who’d saved Spooks. Were the rest of the crew the same guys who’d responded then, too? They must talk amongst themselves about the excitement in this neighborhood.

  During the first man’s recital, Dalton’s expression changed from incredulity to disbelief to fury. He rounded on her, huddled in a kitchen chair.

  “How could you?” he said, his jaw muscle twitching. His eyes darkened, and his mouth stretched into a taut, firm line. “If you saw something, you should have called me, not gone over there yourself. You know the dangers.”

  She worked her lips to respond but it took too much of an effort. So she stared at him in mute contrition. Finally, she managed to get one word past her dry tongue.

  “Brianna.”

  “Christ, I forgot all about her.” He glanced at his watch. “I can’t leave you. I’ll call Arnie to pick her up.”

  “No, wait.” She didn’t want him to explain to their friend, but it was too late. He’d strode away, his cell phone plastered to his ear.

  She slumped back as the throbbing in her head eased. The uniforms had cleaned her wound but she’d refused their offer to take her to the hospital.

  Dalton could drive her if she had any further problems. The oxygen was doing its job of filtering her blood. They’d put the air-conditioning down, so cool air circulated throughout the house. She’d be all right after a while.

  She needed assistance getting to the couch, though. The room still spun too much for comfort, and her stomach hadn’t quite settled. But she supposed that much was to be expected after her ordeal.

  Feeling fortunate to be alive, she didn’t want to consider who’d assaulted her or what it meant that she hadn’t been killed outright. Cherry Hunter had been bludgeoned to death with a blunt instrument in her garage. If the murderer was in Alan’s house, why hadn’t he finished the job instead of leaving her to asphyxiate?

  Because he’d wanted it to appear as an accident? Or because it might be a less messy way of disposing of her? It had been a close call. Marla shuddered, chills racing up and down her spine.

  Dalton conferred with one of the EMT guys, casting occasional glances her way. She knew his anger masked his concern. He’d be right to condemn her behavior. She should have called him rather than going next door by herself.

  “Marla, you really should go to the E.R. to be checked out,” he said, scuttling back to her side. “They need to check your blood gases and your head injury.”

  “Fine, but you can take me. I won’t go for an ambulance ride and rack up a bill.” It was bad enough that the neighbors would see a rescue squad truck in front of their house.

  “I’ll tell Brie what’s going on. She’ll be worried sick.”

  A flush of remorse washed over Marla as he made the call. She hadn’t thought about the repercussions of her actions. If she’d suspected someone was inside Alan’s house, she should have called Dalton at once rather than lingering nearby. Everything she did affected her loved ones. It was both a burden and a joy she’d have to learn to accept.

  Hours later, Marla returned home after an endless visit to the emergency room. Her hemoglobin had checked out okay and her head wound had been superficial. Still wobbly on her feet, she didn’t protest when Dalton led her to bed.

  Exhaustion claimed her as she settled onto the mattress, but she wasn’t allowed to get a good night’s sleep. Dalton woke her at intervals to check her level of awareness and her pupils as instructed. His manner might be solicitous, but she could tell a storm was building from his curt responses. Lacking the energy to deal with him, she accepted his ministrations without protest.

  In the light of morning, though, he let her have it.

  “How do you feel?” he began after she emerged from the bathroom in her nightgown. Already dressed for work in a clean dress shirt and trousers, he stood facing the mirror to knot his tie. He glanced at her, his expression unreadable.

  She put a hand to her head, the heaviness making her feel as though she’d imbibed several drinks the night before. Whether from lack of adequate sleep or a leftover from her ordeal, a headache persisted. “I’ll live. I need a cup of coffee.”

  “Maybe you should go to your doctor for a follow-up exam.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.” Or so she hoped. Getting up and moving around was better than lying in bed all day, and her clients wouldn’t care that she’d been banged up. At least her hair would cover the injury, which wasn’t as big as she’d thought.

  “I find it hard to believe you acted with such reckless disregard for your safety.” Anger laced his tone as he wheeled around to face her. His eyes darkened to slate.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I was on my way home to call you when I got attacked. I’d meant to take the package for Alan’s nephew but it was gone.”

  “What package?”

  “Didn’t I tell you? The UPS truck stopped at Alan’s house. I saw the guy bring a package toward the front stoop. When he returned to the truck, his hands were empty. I figured he must have left the item on the porch. Who knew when Philip Byrd would return? I went over, planning to keep it here until we could give him a call, but there was nothing at the door.”

  “Did you look under the mat?”

  “No need. It was flat. At that point, I wondered if maybe Philip was there and had accepted the delivery. But no one answered the doorbell. Then I thought I saw the curtain flutter, as though someone was inside watching me.”

  “You’re certain you saw the delivery man carrying a package? I can contact UPS to trace its origins.”

  Dalton had gone next door earlier, letting himself in the garage through the unlocked side entrance to look for clues as to who had assaulted her. The rescue people had turned off the car engine after their arrival the night before, and he’d hoped to lift some fingerprints off the shovel found on the ground or the door handles.

  His gaze grew thoughtful, while Marla inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Once his mental gears got going, he wouldn’t focus on her blunders anymore.

  She moved closer, until she stood inches away. Her face lifted toward his, and she rose on her tiptoes to peck him on the mouth. “Forgive me? I promise I’ll leave the investigating to you hereafter. No more antics on my part, okay?” She stroked his arm.

  He smiled, despite his ire. “Why do I not believe you?”

  “I have enough to do at my salon. No more snooping, I swear. Oh, did I tell you about Robyn Piper? She might be perfect for my receptionist job. Her marketing position got eliminated, and she’s being laid off.”

  Marla rattled on about work issues as she picked up a hairbrush. She proceeded to fix her hair, careful to hide the wound that was sensitive to touch.

  Dalton stooped to kiss her neck. “Don’t hesitate to come home if you feel unwell today. You can be stubborn as well as impulsive, and while endearing at times, these traits can also be your undoing. I’ll check in with you later.”

  “Gee, thanks for the compliments.”

  Brianna meandered into their
room. “Are you okay?” she asked Marla with a concerned glance.

  “Yes, thanks, I’m fine. I should have woken you earlier. You’d better hurry, or you’ll be late for school.”

  Appreciative of her family’s care, Marla vowed not to worry them in the future. She reached for her clothes. By the time Brianna finished in the shower, she’d pulled on a maxi dress with a matching sweater and low-heeled shoes.

  Dalton entered the kitchen as she was drying the breakfast dishes. The dogs danced around his ankles. He’d taken them out while Brie was getting ready. Now Marla refilled their water and food containers, marveling at how her family had expanded. She scratched Spooks behind his ears and then gave Lucky a pat. Truly she was blessed.

  “I put a tracer on Krabber’s package with UPS,” Dalton said, his keen gaze assessing her. “Maybe we can track down the sender.”

  “That would be helpful. Alan got a lot of deliveries. I’d love to know what he ordered all the time. He wasn’t a hoarder, was he? Did you see anything unusual when you searched his house?”

  “He had a lot of hurricane supplies.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His closet was crammed full of survival gear. The man must have been paranoid about natural disasters. Hence the generator in his backyard, too.”

  “Maybe he went through Andrew,” Marla said, mentioning the disastrous hurricane that had driven people north from Homestead and Miami.

  Dalton poured himself a glass of orange juice and downed it, while Marla unplugged her cell phone from the charger. Stocking up for a hurricane wasn’t something she’d have to do for a few more months. The season didn’t start until the first of June.

  “I’d say Krabber was being more than cautious from the stuff crowding his shelves.” Dalton regarded her steadily. “Not only did he stock up on nonperishable food items and paper goods, but he had water filtration kits, first-aid supplies, lanterns and camping gear, solar energy kits, and even respirators.”

  “Wow, he was nothing if not prepared. Philip did say his uncle talked about the end of the world. Maybe he hoped to survive.”

  “The guy was methodical. His items were stacked in alphabetical order.”

  “No kidding? And you don’t consider that a bit extreme? Obsessive labeling of his possessions and collecting so many goods could be indicative of OCD.”

  “Or, like you said, Krabber had been through a disaster himself, and it spooked him. I don’t understand the mailing supplies, though. He had enough boxes and package tape to open his own post office.”

  “It’s my theory that not all of those UPS stops were for deliveries. Some were for pickups.”

  Dalton shrugged. “Let’s see what I can find out from the delivery people.”

  They each left for work with plenty of thoughts to chew on throughout the day. Marla told her mother about their latest discovery when checking in with her during a break at the salon. She carefully left out any mention of her near disaster.

  “Maybe he was preparing for the end of the world,” Anita said. “Some nutcases out there preach that stuff, you know.”

  “Living in Florida would have given Alan enough reason to be cautious.” Speaking of nutcases, what was happening with her mother’s beaux? “By the way, how are things with Roger? Have you seen him lately?”

  “We went out for dinner last night. I was surprised when he asked.”

  I’m surprised you accepted after the way he’s treated you.

  “How nice,” she said instead. “I suppose he hasn’t changed his plans for Passover?”

  “No, and I really don’t care. Who else is coming to your house?”

  Marla related the guest list. “It should be interesting with Dalton’s parents there. It’ll be their first Seder.”

  “I imagine your brother will lead the service?”

  “Yes, and I’ve already told him. I have the Haggadahs. Our friends Arnie and Jill are coming with their kids, too.”

  “Oh, good. I haven’t seen them since your wedding. What would you like me to bring? Shall I do the chicken soup?”

  “That would be great, thanks.” Marla sucked in a deep breath. “Dalton expects me to host Easter dinner the following weekend. Would you like to join us?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to get used to you celebrating both holidays.” A pause. “All right, I’ll be happy to come.” Anita made it sound as though Marla needed her for moral support. “What will you serve? Not pork or ham, I hope.”

  “Certainly not.” They were having brisket and chicken for Passover. She should do something different for Easter dinner. What else might be a traditional dish? “I’ll have to think about it. Maybe I’ll do turkey.”

  Passover would be the first time she and Dalton entertained in their new home. Then again, other than Arnie and Jill, what mutual friends did they share?

  An epiphany burst inside her like a cascade of fireworks. A newlywed couple had to build new relationships. Accustomed to being single, she’d been seeking out other women for friendships. But now she was part of a family, and that meant she should look for couples with whom she and her husband could both socialize.

  “What’s the matter?” Nicole asked when she returned to her chair from the back storeroom where she had made her private call.

  Marla related her observations. “I never thought of marriage in those terms, but we’re establishing a new life in more ways than one. It’s a different megillah.”

  “No kidding, sister. And don’t forget your teenage stepdaughter. It would help if you could meet parents with kids her age. Then you can compare notes on college applications and all that stuff.” Waiting for her next client same as Marla, Nicole glanced toward the front desk. “I need to bring Eddie up to snuff, or it’s going to be too late for me to have children.”

  “Yeah, and how’s that going?” This was a frequent refrain for her fellow stylist. Eddie, an electrician, was happy with their casual relationship.

  “I don’t want to scare him off, Marla. If I give him an ultimatum, that’s what will happen. He’ll skitter away like a frightened rabbit. The man is allergic to commitment.”

  “You can’t go on forever this way if you really want to tie the knot, although lots of couples these days aren’t getting married.”

  It was a sad reflection on western society that so many young people lived together without taking the next step. Now that women were financially independent, did they prefer to keep their freedom rather than submit to the bond of marriage? Yet living together brought along its own set of responsibilities.

  She could understand an older couple not wanting to risk their estates being taken from their children, but a pre-nup could take care of that worry. Young adults didn’t have those concerns. Although not a religious person, Marla did believe in certain basic tenets. According to her faith, the Lord sanctified marriage. Was modern society straying so far from this doctrine? Was Angela right in that the end was near because, like in Noah’s time, people had lost their way?

  “Yo, Marla, your two o’clock is here,” Luis called from the front desk.

  She shook herself from her reverie and strode ahead to greet her customer. After applying the highlights and setting the timer, she turned back to Nicole, who had just applied a coloring agent to her client. They both had about twenty minutes free, having a lull in their schedules.

  “Let’s continue our discussion outside.” She signaled to Nicole to follow her to the rear where they could go out the back door and talk in private. “What are you going to do about Eddie? Just let things slide like always?”

  Nicole leaned against the outer wall. “I’m afraid of losing him if I push too hard.”

  Across a canal, the back of another shopping center faced them. To the left was the meter room, which held unpleasant memories for Marla. Maybe that’s why she didn’t come out here too often. Fortunately, none of the other stylists were here having a smoke.

  She inhaled a deep breath of warm, dry air. Th
e odor of sun-heated trash came her way along with the more enticing scent of roasted garlic from Arnie’s deli a few doors down.

  “Why are you so concerned with how Eddie feels?” she asked Nicole. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Maybe he should be afraid of losing you.”

  Uncertainty rode in Nicole’s brown eyes. “Maybe he doesn’t care.”

  “Then is he the right person for you? You deserve better, hon. I say, put him to the test.”

  “How so?” Nicole flicked a strand of raven hair behind her ear. She’d cut and straightened it into a chin-length bob that flattered her oval face.

  “Make him jealous. He doesn’t have any hold over you. So date other guys.”

  “I’m not interested in anyone else.”

  “How do you know? You’ve gone with Eddie for so long that you’ve forgotten what’s out there. There’s a cute guy in the fire department who might be right for you, and I think he’s single. I didn’t see any ring on his finger.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where did you meet this fellow?”

  Marla watched a long-necked white bird alight on the grassy slope by the canal and peck around for food. A breeze whipped hairs about her face. It was a day more worthy of a walk in the park than work.

  “Good heavens,” Nicole said after Marla told her about the incident next door. “And you have no idea who attacked you? Man or woman? Any special clues you remember? Shoes, smells, anything?”

  “I got hit as soon as I turned around to head back to my place. But you’re changing the subject. We were talking about you. Dalton and I should hold a barbecue after the holidays are over, maybe on Memorial Day weekend. We can invite you and the EMT guy. Heck, we’ll invite the whole team who saved me so it doesn’t seem odd.”

  Nicole gave her a severe look. “You shouldn’t have needed rescuing in the first place. Are you telling me your husband hasn’t found the neighbor’s killer yet?”

  Marla had told Nicole that Dalton was back on the case. She shook her head. “Lots of people have motives, but there are still too many loose ends to follow.”

  “What does Dalton say about the suspects? Surely, he must have eliminated some of them based on their alibis by now. So who’s left?”