“What are you doing here, Morris?” she asked. “Planning to place some bets on the horse races? My guess is your sweet wife doesn’t know you have a gambling habit. Is that why your business is losing profits? It isn’t the cold weather causing damage to the crops. It’s your gambling losses.”
His face suffused with color. “Watch what you say, or I’ll charge you with slander.”
“Go ahead. It’ll bring things out into the open.”
He clenched his fists. “Why, you miserable klipeh! Don’t come near our house. You’re fired.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “I may be an imposter as a nurse’s aide, but I’m still hired to take care of Miriam, and I can do that job quite well. Your mother needs me. She’s renewed her spirit since I spruced her up, and I promised to color her hair. I don’t quit on a client until she looks her best. If Miriam wants to replace me, that’s her call.”
“I’ll tell her who you are.”
“Be my guest. I’d planned to tell her myself. I’ll also inform her that I believe the truth about Kim’s death lies close to the nest.”
His gaze narrowed. “You’ll be putting yourself in danger if you return.”
“Is that a threat? Because if so, Gary is a witness.”
The repairman raised his hands. “Hey, man, leave me outta this. I’ve got enough problems.”
“I don’t care to listen to this garbage, either,” Morris retorted. He spun and marched toward the exit.
“Maybe you’d like to explain to Detective Vail how Jeremiah Dooley is your half-brother,” Marla said in a taunting tone to provoke him.
Kim’s uncle halted and did a slow about-face. “Where did you hear that?”
“I have my sources.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I interviewed Jeremiah at his fish farm. From what I understand, he runs a successful ministry. He didn’t mention that he was closely connected to Kimberly. I don’t imagine he’s eager for word to get out about his origins.”
Morris’s mouth compressed. “You know too much. It’s not good for your health.”
“From whose viewpoint—yours or his?”
A sly look stole over Morris’s features. “Keep snooping, and you’ll find out.”
****
On her way to the Pearls’ compound later that day, Marla reflected on his words. Morris wouldn’t have made such overt threats if he were guilty, would he? Dalton hadn’t wanted her to go tonight, but Marla didn’t want to disappoint Miriam, who would be looking forward to getting her hair colored. Besides, she owed it to the matriarch to come clean. It wouldn’t be an easy interview, and Marla dreaded losing the old woman’s regard, but integrity compelled her to face Miriam and explain.
Gaining entry was a problem she hadn’t anticipated. Raoul shut the door in her face. Morris must have left orders to bar her entrance. Wondering if he’d show up for dinner, Marla decided to enlist the aid of his wife.
An expression of surprised delight lit Barbara’s face when Marla knocked on their cottage door. “Marla, I’d forgotten it was Wednesday and you were due here. Will you and Miriam be joining us for dinner again?”
For a moment, Marla forgot her purpose. “You mean Agnes hasn’t been bringing her to the dining room?”
“She says Mother is too frail, and the spicy food upsets her stomach. I believe Miriam really enjoyed being with us, though.”
“I need your help. Raoul won’t let me in.”
“Why not?” Barbara removed the apron she wore and slung it over her arm. Tendrils of highlighted hair graced her weary face. She must have visited a salon recently.
Marla sniffed the aroma of a baking cake. At least Morris’s wife didn’t rely totally on the family cook. “It’s a long story. Your husband doesn’t like me, and I’m afraid he gave orders to Raoul not to allow me entrance. But unless Miriam has someone else to care for her, I won’t leave her alone.”
“Oh, dear. I suppose one of us could fill in.”
“Please, Barbara. I have to see Miriam.”
A flicker of doubt crossed the woman’s fair-complexioned face. “Let me ring her up. If Mom says it’s all right, I’ll help you. Wait here.”
Barbara shut the door, leaving Marla shifting her feet on the doorstep. The baking-dough aroma mingled with the scent of a nearby Hong Kong orchid tree. It was a delightfully warm evening, and Marla glanced appreciatively at the Malaysian coconut palms, sea grapes, and gumbo limbo trees gracing the lawn. That spreading banyan tree must be decades old, she thought, admiring its hanging roots. Like the family living here, it had entrenched itself into the soil, forbidding any other plant life from encroaching on its territory. Was that how the Pearls felt about Jeremiah Dooley?
The door swung open, and Barbara faced her with a smile. “Mom said to let you right in. I’ve instructed Raoul. He shouldn’t give you any further trouble.”
The butler responded by opening the mansion door and standing aside while she passed. His nose turned up in disdain. If it weren’t for the lady of the manor whom she cared about, Marla would have been happy never to set foot in this place again.
She lugged her bag of beauty supplies along, hoping the matriarch wouldn’t dismiss her right away. They both had a lot of explaining to do.
A greeting party met her at the second landing. Agnes, dressed in a severe black pants set, swept toward her with the swiftness of a storm cloud. Stella and Florence stood side by side, barring the entrance to Miriam’s room. Their stern faces held disapproval.
“I knew you were an imposter,” Agnes snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about nursing. Miriam has insisted on going downstairs to the parlor every afternoon, thanks to you. She’ll break her hip, and it’ll be your fault for interfering.” The nurse pursed her thin lips.
“I’m glad she’s more active,” Marla stated firmly. “If she hurts herself, it’s only because you’ve kept her confined to bed. The poor woman lived like she was already dead.”
“You’re dismissed,” Florence said in a curt tone. “My brother has told us all about you. You’re working for Stan, hoping to blame one of us for dear Kimberly’s death.”
“If Miriam doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave, but I owe her an explanation.”
Stella wrung her hands. “Kimberly has gotten us all in trouble. I told that foolish girl to be patient, but she wouldn’t listen. First my baby gets herself killed, and now this.” Her voice rose to a wail.
“Shut up,” Florence commanded, her eyes glittering. “Marla, you are not welcome here any longer. Agnes will escort you outside.”
“Hold on, dearie,” warbled Miriam’s voice from inside the room. “You don’t leave until I say so. Come in, and close the door so those yentas don’t hear us.”
Gratefully, Marla rushed inside the bedroom, shutting the door with a loud bang. If she never saw the Pearl sisters again, it wouldn’t be too soon. As for Agnes, maybe she was better qualified to take care of Miriam than Marla was, but Miriam shriveled under her care.
Sitting in a wingback chair, Miriam wore a shift dress and a cap over her newly permed waves. She gestured at Marla. “Sit over there, and tell me the truth. Morris says you’re related to Stanley Kaufman.”
Marla heard shuffling noises outside the door, as though the sisters were jostling for a position nearest the door jamb. She hoped Agnes had left to accomplish her errands.
“I was Stan’s first wife,” she began, pulling an armchair closer to the matriarch. She was glad to see Miriam, whose cheeks seemed rosier, out of bed and dressed. “When he was arrested, Stan called me. I’d helped the police solve a couple of cases before, you see.”
“But you’re not a detective, and neither are you a nurse’s aide.”
Marla glanced away from the older woman’s penetrating gaze, effective even through her eyeglasses. “I’m a licensed hairstylist,” she admitted.
Miriam’s delighted laughter was not the reaction she’d expected. “And a damn good one,
too. Don’t think you’re leaving here without giving me that coloring you promised.”
Marla grinned in response and pointed to her bag on the floor. “I’m ready whenever you are. Shall we go into the bathroom, and I’ll continue my explanation while I work on you? Or do you want to go downstairs for dinner first?”
“I think it’s best if we don’t expose you to Morris again. Go ahead and call for two trays to be sent up. You can join me. Kathleen isn’t here, so Raoul is filling in.”
Marla almost mentioned her appointment with Kathleen for Thursday but held her tongue. If anyone was listening outside the door, she didn’t want to mention the maid’s message. Continuing their discussion in the bathroom would help drown out listening ears.
She ordered their dinners. “Let me help you,” she told Miriam who’d already started to push herself from the chair with difficulty.
“No, dearie, I have to start doing more things for myself. I thought of hiring a new nurse since you showed me what I’ve been missing, except Agnes is so good with bookkeeping. She goes over all the accounts with me. My reading glasses broke, you know, and she’s promised to take me to the eye doctor, but we haven’t made it there yet.”
“I know an optometrist, if you need a reference,” Marla murmured, remembering Barry Gold.
“At least I don’t have cataracts.” Miriam grunted, trying to lift herself and brushing away Marla’s assistance. Shoving herself to a standing position, she wobbled in place until Marla stabilized her with a walker.
On their way to the bathroom, Marla glanced at a desk laden with papers. “I’ll be glad to help you while I’m here. I have my own salon, so I’m accustomed to bookkeeping.”
“Tell me about yourself, Marla.”
“Just a minute. Let’s sit you in the wheelchair.”
After Miriam was comfortable, Marla spread her supplies on the counter. She studied the woman’s skin tone and selected a level-eight Framesi product. She’d brought a few choices just in case. After squeezing the tube’s contents into a bowl, she added developer and mixed the compound with a stiff brush. Then she withdrew a royal blue cape from her bag and tied it around the matriarch to protect her clothes.
While she was working the coloring solution into Miriam’s roots with a gloved hand, Marla spoke. “My salon is the Cut ’N Dye, located in Palm Haven. I have my own clients, plus I manage the salon. It means I hardly have any time off, especially when I’m doubling as a health care aide.”
She hesitated. “I’m really sorry, Miriam. I feel bad about deceiving you. Stan suggested I take this position, because he suspects one of your family members killed his wife.”
A heavy silence followed while Miriam digested her remarks. “I know we have our differences, but no one in this family killed that poor child. For God’s sake, she’s our flesh and blood. As for you, young lady, I’m very disappointed that you lied to me. I can’t say I’m sorry you came here to take care of me, though. I had nothing left to live for until you pushed me out of that bed. I feel like a new woman! Do you know, I called a friend of mine I hadn’t seen in years? We made plans to meet at the mall next week. Our nurses will push us around in our wheelchairs, and we’ll have lunch.”
“That sounds great. I’m happy for you.” Finished applying the solution, Marla stripped off her gloves and set the timer for thirty minutes.
Miriam grasped her arm. “I regret that you tricked me, but not that you’ve given me a new lease on life.”
Marla blinked at the sudden moisture that sprang into her eyes. Stooping, she hugged the old woman’s frail shoulders while emotion choked her throat. “I’ve enjoyed these visits. I feel…you’re like a grandmother to me. You may not believe this, but I do care about you.”
Miriam’s voice quavered. “You make a better granddaughter than Kimberly ever did. I know you’re being truthful.” She gave Marla an affectionate pat on the back. “Now tell me who you think killed her.”
“I’m not quite sure.” Marla leaned against the counter, wondering how much to reveal. Was it necessary to expose Morris’s gambling habit? Or Kimberly’s pregnancy? Perhaps it was best to start with the one fact Miriam already knew. “I’ve learned about Jeremiah Dooley and his connection to the family.”
Miriam’s wry gaze met hers. “So I gathered when you turned on his television program.”
“I interviewed Jeremiah at his fish farm near Tarpon Springs. He mentioned his acquaintance with Kim but not his relationship to her. I don’t suppose he’d want his constituents to find out about his illegitimate birth.”
“That was a shameful episode in our family’s past. Harris never could keep his eyes off other women.”
“Did you know Colleen was pregnant when she left the household?”
“None of us knew anything about the pregnancy until Jeremiah presented himself to Morris one day and announced he was his half-brother. Jeremiah hadn’t even known his true heritage until Colleen told him on her deathbed. He’d always believed he was Piotr’s son, the man she married after leaving our service.”
“I thought you’d dismissed Colleen because you’d found out about her liaison with Harris.”
“I fired her when I realized she was his mistress. I wasn’t aware she was carrying his child at the time. Harris must have had an inclination, because he settled tracts of property on Colleen. I believed it was just a payoff to get rid of her.”
“So none of you knew anything until Jeremiah approached Morris?”
“That’s right. You can imagine our shock. Morris was afraid he’d claim part of Harris’s estate.”
“If that wasn’t his purpose, why did Jeremiah expose his family connection?”
“He’d been given property adjacent to some of our coffee plantations, and he wanted to use our contacts to establish his missions. Once his fish farms were operational, Morris put him in touch with our exporters.”
“I see.” She checked the timer. Fifteen minutes to go.
A knock sounded on the outer door, and she hustled into the bedroom to let Raoul inside. He’d brought their dinners. Noting the empty bed, he glanced toward the bathroom with a disapproving scowl. “Where would you like me to put your trays, miss?”
“On the dressing table, thank you.” After he’d left, she wheeled Miriam into the room so they could eat during the remaining interval.
“I presume Morris told the rest of the family about Jeremiah?” she said, resuming their conversation between mouthfuls of meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
“He asked me if Jeremiah could touch Harris’s trust fund. Apparently he told his wife, Barbara, who spoke to Florence. Florence came running to me, horrified that her friends would find out. A Christian missionary who was a bastard offspring of Harris’s affair? How disgraceful. She feared it would ruin our sterling reputation in the community. None of us wanted to reveal Jeremiah’s background.”
Satisfied that Miriam was able to chew adequately with her teeth in place, Marla dogged on after taking a drink of water.
“Then you, your children, and Jeremiah were in agreement?”
“That’s right.”
“I understand that Elise Addison and Kimberly were neighbors. Elise reported seeing Jeremiah’s Porsche in their neighborhood. Kim had told Elise about her rich Uncle Jerry. Do you suppose Elise snitched on her to Florence? The two of them work together for a charity organization.”
Miriam nodded, her eyes wise. “That’s not how Florence learned Kim had been seeing Jeremiah, though.”
“Oh, no?” Marla had to wait for the answer because the timer rang. Back in the bathroom, she donned her gloves and worked the color through to Miriam’s ends.
“How did you decide to become a hairdresser, dearie?”
“I’ve always loved doing people’s hair. When women look good, they feel better about themselves. It’s all about image and self-esteem.”
Their conversation focused on Marla’s work while she proceeded through the shampoo, conditioning, and comb-
out. Finally, she twirled Miriam in her chair to face the mirror.
“Yippee, I’m a blonde!” Miriam exclaimed, her eyes bright.
“Now you can have more fun.” Marla plugged in a blow-dryer and curling iron. Sifting through Miriam’s wet strands of hair, she examined the results with satisfaction. A light golden tone suited the elderly woman’s sun-starved complexion.
“You were telling me about Kimberly and Jeremiah,” Marla prompted after she finished with the blow-dryer.
“Sorry, I can be forgetful at times.” Miriam observed Marla’s deft movements in the mirror. “Kimberly planned to redo our family albums that were falling apart. Florence told me she’d questioned certain photographs so she could label them. When she didn’t get a response, Kim looked up birth records and mentioned finding out about Jeremiah.”
“That must have upset Florence.”
The old lady grimaced. “Florence had been in love with the man Stella married, so she resented Kimberly as their daughter. It’s possible Florence told Morris about Kim’s discovery. But neither of them killed my granddaughter, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
No? Morris was afraid that revealing Jeremiah’s blood relationship might entitle him to a share of their inheritance, while Florence feared besmirching the family’s reputation. Did one of them silence Kim to prevent the news from leaking out?
“Kim was getting money from someone to pay her tuition at design school. She planned to leave Stan and found a financial source to help her. Do you think Morris had reinstated the allowance that you withdrew?”
Miriam’s shoulders stiffened. “I never stopped that girl’s allowance. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe I didn’t approve of her manner in getting what she wanted, but she was entitled to that money.”
“From what I’ve heard, you cut her off. That’s why she had to seek another source of support until her portion of the trust fund became available.”
Miriam’s sharp gaze speared her. “My daughters believe Stan killed Kimberly because she’d mentioned finding a way out of her trap, as she called their marriage. Florence suspected she’d found another man.”
Body Wave Page 19
