Body Wave

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Body Wave Page 7

by Nancy J. Cohen


  Lacey gave her an appraising glance. “Why do you care so much what happened to Kim? She said you were a selfish bitch who wouldn’t sell a piece of property he co-owned with you.”

  “I need the income from my share. Stan wanted to sell it to buy a bigger house because Kimberly wasn’t happy where they lived.”

  “It wasn’t a good neighborhood for her.”

  “Tell me she was not spoiled by her wealthy background. I heard she couldn’t wait for her trust fund, and that’s why she married Stan. Do you think she would’ve been satisfied with anything less than a beachfront mansion?”

  “Kim had aspirations. You don’t understand, just like Stan didn’t.”

  “So explain it to me. If I could get an inkling about her life, it might help me figure out who had reason to harm her.” Besides Stan, Marla thought. Would he have reacted violently if Kim confessed she was leaving him? Did he even know she had been planning that move? “You want to see justice done, don’t you? I mean, if you cared about Kim, you’ll help me find who killed her.”

  “I might have done it myself if someone hadn’t beaten me to it,” Lacey muttered.

  “What’s that?” Marla leaned forward.

  “Look, if I reveal what I know, you’ll tell the cops I had nothing to do with her murder, okay?”

  Marla’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. “Are you saying things weren’t all that rosy between you?”

  “We were best friends, darling. We disagreed on certain issues, that’s all.” Her pointed glance told Marla she’d better stay on safer turf or their conversation would be over.

  “Tell me about Kim. What did she do after finishing high school?”

  Lacey brushed back a strand of wavy hair. “She made it through one semester at Broward College but didn’t have the patience to stay in school. She got a job at a bank, eager to earn money, but Stella hadn’t prepared her for real life. She didn’t like waking up every morning to work at a mediocre job. Marriage became something Kim saw as a way out, but only if she snagged a rich guy. When her grandmother stopped her allowance, Stan seemed like the answer to her dreams.”

  “Go on.” Marla wondered about the hard edge in Lacey’s tone. Had Stan been a source of contention between the two friends?

  Lacey’s attention wandered to a couple of men who hovered nearby, casting suggestive glances their way. They appeared to be typical yuppies wearing business suits and uniform haircuts.

  “At first, Kim was really happy,” Lacey continued, redirecting her attention to Marla. “She liked staying home as a housewife. She redecorated their house, planned dinner parties, and played tennis twice a week. She’d just started a new hobby, tracing her genealogy. She was totally taken aback when Stan cracked down.”

  “I can imagine.” Memories surfaced of her own dismay when Stan took control of her life. At first she’d welcomed his overprotective nature. She had needed someone to care for her after Tammy’s tragic accident. But when her ego began to rise from the ashes, she realized Stan had restricted her activities to solely waiting on him.

  “Kim said it was the last straw when he put limits on her shopping. She retaliated by racking up charges on their credit cards. Stan could be really nasty, and he took her car in for repairs and never brought it home.”

  “That was pretty drastic,” Marla agreed.

  Lacey lowered her voice. “She was afraid of him, Marla. He even checked their caller I.D. to see who’d phoned her during the day. Desperation made Kim consider her future more seriously. Like her mother, she had a flair for design. I picked her up one day, and we went to the School of Arts and Design. She registered for classes. No matter how long it took, she was determined to leave Stan.”

  “How did she go to classes if she had no car?”

  “Kim made a case for staying in shape. She said her figure would fill out if she skipped her tennis games. Stan believed her and returned her car. He thought she was going to the club when she went to class. The jerk kept bugging her, though, so Kim decided to walk out on him before he cut off her funds. Gary warned her to be careful.”

  “Gary?”

  “Gary Waterford. He’s... a mutual friend.”

  “I see. Why did he warn her?”

  “He feared Stan’s reaction. Stan is the type of man who regards his wife as a trophy. He wouldn’t take kindly to Kim’s abandonment when he felt he owned her.”

  “I left him. He didn’t hurt me, not physically at least.”

  “But did he ever really give up on you?”

  Marla lifted the drink glass to her lips, her movements jerky. “He kept harassing me to sell our property and persisted in telling me how much I needed him.”

  “See? He would never have let Kimberly go free. She was the type of woman he’d always wanted.”

  Oh, yeah? Better her than me.

  “Hey, guys. Wanna buy us a round of drinks?” Lacey called, winking at the two men ogling them.

  “I have to go,” Marla said, handing Lacey a business card. “If you think of anything to add, please give me a call.”

  During the drive home, she contemplated the various relationships. Either Gary hadn’t abandoned his relationship to Kim when she met Stan, or else they’d started seeing each other again after her marriage. Had Kim gotten in touch with Gary at some point, and if so, why hadn’t he mentioned it to her?

  Lacey claimed Gary was a mutual friend. Just how close were Lacey and the repair man? How intimate had he been with Kim after they’d resumed their acquaintance? Gary had implied Lacey would be jealous if she knew he’d spoken about Kim. Did that mean Lacey was interested in him? Could it be possible both women had set their hearts on the same man? If so, that could have fueled Lacey’s resentment.

  Kim’s classmates might shed more light on her personal ambitions. When will I have time to follow up? Probably not until the weekend.

  After work tomorrow, she was supposed to meet Dalton for her birthday dinner. Although she hadn’t heard from him since their last encounter, she assumed their date was still on. Maybe he’d just been busy at work.

  Turning thirty-five meant climbing another rung on the ladder of life. At least she had that chance, Marla thought gratefully, saying a silent prayer for Kimberly.

  ****

  Arriving at the salon the next morning at nine, Marla stopped short inside the entrance. Coal black fabric draped the walls, and silver and black balloons floated from the ceiling.

  “Surprise!” rang out her staff members, all of whom had dressed appropriately for the occasion in mournful attire.

  “What is this?” Laughter bubbled in her throat and mingled with tears.

  “Happy Birthday!” Nicole, grinning broadly, presented her with a wooden walking stick. The curved handle held a horn with a squeeze ball, a magnifying glass that was supposed to be a rearview mirror, a rabbit’s foot, and a sign: Congratulations, you’re over the hill.

  “Hey, guys, I’m only thirty-five.”

  “Arnie’s bringing bagels,” Nicole said, wearing a black cape from last year’s Halloween costume. “We purposely didn’t schedule any appointments until ten, not that you noticed.”

  “I guess my mind has been elsewhere.” She greeted her other staff members, overwhelmed when they showered her with gifts. Her smile quivered when Arnie pushed through the door carrying a huge tray of bagels and pastries.

  “Breakfast is on me.” He kissed Marla on the cheek before setting down his load on the coffee table. “I’ll be right back. I have something for you.” He rushed out, returning moments later to thrust a gift bag in her face. “Here, you’ll enjoy this. Jill sends her regards.”

  “What? Dalton and I are meeting you tonight. Why—?”

  “Work calls. See ya.” Arnie backed out, a wide grin on his mustached countenance.

  She glanced inside the bag, delighted to see a bottle of Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay, a package of Starbucks ground coffee, and a box of marzipan candies shaped like fruits. Yum, her favorite tre
ats!

  “Here’s something from all of us,” said Nicole.

  Marla opened the envelope. It was a gift certificate for The Pelican Watch, a waterfront restaurant known for its prime seafood, intimate seating arrangements, and spectacular view of the Intracoastal. On the top floor was a separate dessert room popular with diners. Marla had visited the restaurant a couple of times with Stan, but it was no longer in her budget.

  “This says it’s good for their Valentine’s Day special,” she noted, confused. “That’s tonight.”

  Nicole beamed at her. “Dalton made a reservation for the two of you. You’ve had a change of plans.”

  “But we were supposed to meet Arnie and Jill. Does this mean—?”

  “You got it, girlfriend. A romantic dinner for two.”

  Oh, joy. “Did my mother put you up to this?”

  Giorgio piped in from across the room. “We thought of it all on our own. That detective is hot for you. Somebody had to make a move to put you in the mood.”

  Marla should have felt indignant, but as she greeted her first client and proceeded through the day’s schedule, all she could think about was being alone with Dalton. When a couple of deliveries arrived, her excitement increased. One was a huge bouquet of two dozen red roses in a crystal vase. The note read, Happy Birthday. See you tonight. Yours, Dalton.

  Those simple words fired her hormones until she couldn’t wait to run home and prepare. Tally’s thoughtful gift made her wonder how many of her friends had conspired regarding tonight’s plans. She gasped with pleasure when she saw the short black and silver lace cocktail dress. Its low-cut sweetheart neckline was sure to provide a generous view of her cleavage. For this evening, her friend’s note said. Some risks are worth taking. Love, Tally.

  Oh, God. Why did she feel like she was being manipulated? Because you are, Marla told herself. Not that she was angry with her friends. She’d needed this kick in the pants to decide where things were going with the handsome detective. But why now, when he was in the middle of a case involving Stan?

  Why ever? She confronted her feelings during the drive home. Let’s face it, Marla, you’ve been avoiding the issue. It’s easier seeing him on a casual basis without any real commitment on your part, but he wants more from you. How much more are you willing to give?

  She hadn’t wanted to become involved with another man after Stan. Her road to independence had been long and hard, and she valued her freedom. How delightful to come home after work and grab whatever she wanted to eat without worrying about fixing elaborate meals for another person.

  And yet, hadn’t she told Dalton she wanted to cook for him and Brianna one night? Didn’t the thought of serving him her favorite brisket dish and herbed garlic potatoes bring her pleasure? Yes, because she wanted to bring him pleasure, she realized with surprise. Her heart went out to the lonely man and his daughter who had no woman to care for them. Perhaps this was the difference between Dalton and Stan. She’d needed Stan, whereas the reverse was true with Dalton. He needed her, and that made her heart rate accelerate.

  Damn, she hadn’t wanted children, either. Yet she was becoming increasingly fond of Brianna since she’d started driving the girl to dance class. When Brie shed her bratty manner, she could be downright vulnerable. Marla was supposed to help plan her thirteenth birthday, and she’d been neglecting this duty. Was it her way of avoiding the issue with Dalton as well?

  Knowing she’d have to come up with some answers by tonight made her a nervous wreck while she showered and dressed. Diamond stud earrings perfectly complemented her attire. She put them in before fixing her hair in what she called seductress style, using a curling iron to create soft twists that framed her face. Her hand shook when she applied Plum Brandy lipstick by Clinique. She slid her feet into black leather heels and squirted herself with Obsession before pronouncing herself ready.

  The doorbell rang, and she glanced at the clock. It was only 7:15. He was early, but it didn’t matter. She snatched up her purse and flung open the front door.

  Stan faced her, a smug look on his face. He’d dressed in a suit, and his hair was slicked back in its usual suave style. “Happy birthday!” He thrust a gift-wrapped package at her.

  Marla’s heart sank. “I’m expecting company. This isn’t a good time.”

  He shouldered his way inside. “Did you think I would forget? You’re being kind enough to help me, so it’s entirely appropriate for me to think of you in return.”

  “Why? You haven’t remembered my birthday since our divorce.”

  “I’d like to hear how you made out with Miriam. Did you get the job?”

  “So that’s why you came. I should have known.” She glanced anxiously down the street, hoping Dalton wouldn’t arrive before Stan left. “Yes, I got the job and started on Sunday. I don’t think her family likes me, though. I’m not terribly competent as a nurse.”

  Stan looked down his long nose at her. “That doesn’t matter. What did you learn?”

  Marla sighed. She wasn’t going to get rid of him so easily. “Can I call you tomorrow? I’m going out on a date. Detective Vail is on his way to pick me up.”

  “Don’t let your feelings for him get in the way of our plans,” Stan warned, putting his gift down on a decorative table in the foyer. “I’ll be really angry if you screw up. Really angry.”

  “Listen, I’m doing you a favor. Be careful how you talk to me.”

  Stan’s expression darkened. “No, I’m doing you a favor by selling you my half of our property at a cheap rate. So tow the line, or you’ll be sorry. Now tell me what happened when you went to my in-law’s house.”

  She fumed with impatience. “Get lost, Stan. I don’t want you here when Dalton arrives.”

  “Why not? Afraid he might think we’re getting back together?” He sauntered closer. “What’s so bad about that idea? We always were good in bed.”

  Her gut clenched as she heard a car’s engine rumbling near. “You have to go now.” She didn’t want to be caught in another compromising situation.

  “All right, we’ll pursue this next time.” His tone conveyed reassurance that his hard eyes didn’t match. “I’m counting on you, Marla. I realize Vail would like to pin this on me. I need you to play ball in my court, not his.”

  “Take a hike, Stan. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Tell me one thing. Did Stella or Florence mention anything about family albums being in my possession?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Kim seemed to find something fascinating in one of them, and she became very secretive about it. I’m wondering what the relatives know that I don’t. I won’t return the albums yet, just in case. If you’re a good girl, I may let you take a peek.”

  He had the audacity to kiss her before turning away.

  Disturbed by the emotions his visit had conjured, Marla watched him leave. Curse the man. He still had the power to rile her.

  Dalton approached along the walkway. She gave him a tremulous smile, hoping her distress didn’t show. How much had he seen of her encounter with Stan?

  “What was Kaufman doing here?” Dalton demanded when he reached her doorstep. He appeared dashingly handsome in a slate gray suit that mirrored the smoky tint of his eyes.

  “He wanted the results of my interview with the Pearls.”

  “Is that all? I saw him kiss you.”

  “There’s nothing between us, Dalton. You don’t have to worry.” When he gazed at her searchingly, she looped her arm through his. “I think it’s cute when you’re jealous.”

  “I am not jealous.”

  “Good, because you’re the one I want to be with tonight, not him. Thanks for the beautiful roses, by the way. They were a wonderful surprise.”

  “I ordered the flowers sent to the salon when Nicole called to tell me about the gift certificate and mentioned your staff would be throwing a party. Arnie and Jill didn’t mind postponing our dinner together.”

  “Has everyone been in on this co
nspiracy?”

  “You don’t know the half of it,” he said, a sly smile tilting his lips.

  Chapter Seven

  “How long have you known about our change in plans? Arnie didn’t mention anything to me,” Marla said to Dalton during the drive to the restaurant.

  “Nicole notified me last week.”

  Marla noticed his secretive grin. “So this was her idea, to get us alone together?” She still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that her mother had had a hand in their scheme.

  His smile broadened. “Nicole had a little help. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? Relax, sweetcakes. It’s just you and me tonight.”

  That’s what worried her the most. A meal together would be fun, even romantic. But what would happen afterward?

  Butterflies swirled in her stomach as they entered the restaurant and were seated in a quiet alcove. Furnishings included etched glass partitions, Tiffany lamps, potted plants, and polished wood. Vases of bright red carnations provided a splash of color on white-clothed tables, while soft melodies playing in the background seduced the senses.

  It was a rare occasion for them to be alone together in an intimate setting. She fidgeted while Dalton ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir. Maybe what really frightened her was what she wanted to happen after dinner. She took a sip of the rich ruby wine after their waiter uncorked the bottle. Good stuff. Maybe it would give her a jolt of courage.

  “Don’t drink it too quickly,” Dalton admonished, wagging a finger. “You need to stay awake.”

  Dear Lord, the man could read her mind. Her skin heated as his hand snaked across the table to grasp hers.

  “You look great in that dress.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’d look better out of it.”

  “I don’t know, Dalton. That would be a serious step for us.”

  “Yes, it would.”

  She glanced away. “I just wonder where it would lead.”

  “I thought you liked to take risks.”

  “That depends. There’s more involved here. Brianna, for instance.”

 

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