Styled for Murder

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “I suppose,” Amelia said in a doubtful voice.

  “Maybe you should ask your father for the truth. He only wants to protect you. You need to clear the air and regain the trust in your relationship. Now go join your friends. I’ll touch up your makeup later.”

  “Thanks for listening, Marla. Your stepdaughter is lucky to have you for a mom.”

  Marla blinked away a sudden surge of moisture on her lashes. She covered her emotion by polishing off the session with a generous spritz of holding spray.

  As she worked on the next girl, she mulled over their conversation.

  Without knowing exactly what had happened between Jack and George during their confrontation, she couldn’t remove the latter from her suspect list. However, with his daughter being his sole responsibility, would George really have committed murder in a fit of rage and risked going to jail?

  Nicole kept glancing at her from the next chair over. They were spaced adequately apart to give each stylist enough room. No doubt Nicole was dying to hear what Marla had learned.

  They didn’t have time to chat, because as soon as the young ladies were ready, they donned their gowns and lined up for their stage appearance. Marla collected her bags and hurried outside to watch the show.

  Gladys, the pageant director, made a few announcements into the microphone, her voice booming to the crowd. She credited the sponsors and then turned on some lively background music while introducing each of the contestants. The regular band was taking a break during the competition.

  Marla stood behind several rows of occupied chairs to watch the evening gown procession. Pride swelled her chest at each girl’s appearance. Their hair and makeup looked great and their walk down the makeshift runway ran as smooth as mousse. They were a well-poised group of young women.

  Their glances at the judges’ table drew her attention over there. In the front row facing the stage sat three people at a special table festooned with ropes of garlic. They took notes as each girl did her strut. One was a guest chef as evidenced by his white outfit and the toque on his head. Another guy in a suit must be the mayor whom Marla had seen listed in the brochure.

  That left the lone woman as Davinia Quincy, the actress and Brad’s sister. Marla would have to meet her later to strike up a conversation.

  As the girls lined up on stage to await the judges’ verdict, Marla glanced at the crowd. Amelia’s father sat off to the right. The big fellow clenched his hands in his lap. Had he murdered Jack with those meaty fists? Or had he merely confronted the man and warned him off his daughter in a skirmish that left him bruised and Jack still alive?

  Right now, George was probably hoping his daughter would win. If his business had lost money to the chains as Amelia suggested, how else could he afford to send her to college? It didn’t matter if she went out of state or not. They needed the scholarship to fund her education.

  Marla’s glance roamed to the stocky man in a suit sitting directly behind Davinia. She recognized him as the actress’s manager, Oscar Fielding. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. What was it he’d said that put a frown on her face?

  A momentary shadow made Marla’s head turn. Brad was sauntering their way.

  He must be on a break from the design company booth.

  Oscar wasn’t happy to see him from the grimace on his face. And judging by Davinia’s taut features, neither was she. Oscar got up to intercept Brad, and they exchanged a few words that brought a snarl to the manager’s mouth. Brad spat something back and hoofed off in the opposite direction.

  While Marla wondered what they might have said to each other, the pageant director consulted with the judges. Gladys accepted a sealed envelope from the mayor and returned to the stage. Marla focused her attention forward in anticipation of hearing the winner’s name.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, our judges have selected a festival queen. But first, can our esteemed guests please join me on stage.”

  Gladys handed each judge a gift bag. “These are items contributed by our sponsors and various vendors. It’s a small token of our thanks for your participation. Folks, you all know Mayor Gentry. We are honored by your presence, sir. Chef Maurice, we’re delighted you could join us. The chef has a demonstration in the theater kitchen at three o’clock. Otherwise, you can find him at his restaurant, Chez Maurice. And finally, allow me to welcome the fabulous and beautiful Davinia Quincy, star of the popular TV hit, Family and Friends.”

  Loud applause sounded as Davinia stepped toward the mic. Marla envied her perfect figure in an emerald gown sparkling with sequins. Her bosom nearly spilled from its low neckline. Crystal chandelier earrings dangled from her lobes partially hidden by a mass of golden hair.

  In contrast to her pale complexion, she wore a heavy application of eye makeup and blood red lipstick on her wide lips. Her stunning appearance reminded Marla of a cross between Sophia Vergara and a younger Dolly Parton. No wonder the daytime soap audiences loved her.

  Davinia took the envelope from Glady’s hands and spoke in a throaty voice to the crowd.

  “I am honored to be here and to have the opportunity to meet these lovely young ladies. Each one of them is smart and talented and deserves the prize.” She beamed at the contestants and then returned her attention to the assembly. The mayor and chef resumed their seats, and the pageant director moved to the side to give the actress the spotlight.

  “You know, I got my start here many years ago,” Davinia said, clasping a hand to her chest. “I won this very same competition and didn’t realize that in the audience was a talent scout for a casting agency. The rest, as they say, is history. That makes this pageant incredibly meaningful to me. And now for the moment you’ve all been anticipating.”

  Marla held her breath as Davinia slit open the envelope with a long fingernail. She admired all the girls but fervently hoped Amelia would win.

  Davinia pronounced the words she wanted to hear. “Let’s clap our hands for Amelia Eustice, our new Garlic Queen! Congratulations, my dear.”

  Amelia gasped and clapped her hands to her face. The other girls surrounded her with their congratulations and good wishes.

  George jumped up and shouted. “You did it, baby girl!” He pumped his fist in the air. The crowd rose to join him in cheering. Marla whooped her approval and clapped her hands.

  Davinia drew Amelia forward and bedecked her with a crimson sash and a headdress of spring flowers. Braids of garlic hung down on either side of the head piece. A stagehand brought over a necklace of strung bulbs with which Davinia adorned Amelia’s neck.

  The other girls exchanged hugs and accepted certificates for their consolation prizes. A photographer herded them together for pictures, snapping photos of the judges as well. Davinia did a series of practiced poses in between the chef and the mayor.

  As soon as she was free, Davinia headed toward the judges’ table to collect her purse. Marla, torn between congratulating George on his daughter’s win or engaging Davinia for a brief chat, chose the latter. This might be the only chance she’d get. The woman’s manager was occupied elsewhere. Marla knew that wouldn’t last.

  “Excuse me.” She rushed forward on the grass to accost the actress. “I’m Marla Vail, owner of Cut ’N Dye Salon,” she said in haste, so the actress wouldn’t consider her a rabid fan. “My stylists did the girls’ backstage hair and makeup. I’ve been wanting to meet you to discuss a personal issue.”

  Davinia gave her an assessing glance. “Well, here I am.”

  Marla floundered for what to say. “My stepfather, Reed Westmore, is a fan of yours. In fact, he chose Amaze Design Center to do his bathroom based on your endorsement.”

  The actress’s face flushed. “That was merely a promotional quote. I didn’t have any work done by them myself, you understand.”

  “Oh, I didn’t realize that. But I do know the company president is your brother.”

  Davinia glanced at her manager, who was busy speaking to the photographer. “I gave a quote because
I thought it might help his business. Now if you’ll pardon me, I have an interview with the Gazette reporter.”

  Appealing to her ego might get her to stay, Marla thought. She needed to gain information on Brad’s background.

  “Didn’t you grow up in this area?” she asked. “I heard you say you’d won this contest in your early days and it jumpstarted your career.”

  “Yes, I had my lucky break at this festival. It means a lot to me.” Davinia’s gaze darted past her as though she were looking for an excuse to break off their conversation.

  “Did you want to become an actress even then?”

  Davinia chuckled, making her bosom jiggle. “I’d always loved putting on a performance. My parents had to watch me put on endless shows at home.”

  “They must be very proud of you.”

  “Sadly, they’re both gone. My dad died of a heart attack and my mother got pneumonia after a bout with the flu.”

  “I’m sorry. So it’s just you and Brad now?” At the woman’s terse nod, Marla went on. “I think it’s fascinating how a local woman became a star.”

  “I was lucky, that’s all. Talent is only half the battle. Speaking of which, I loved the way your stylists fixed the girls’ hair. If you give me your card, I’ll be happy to pass your name along to my friends.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to do more work for local celebrities. Tell me, did you stay in the area after you signed on with the talent scout?” Marla asked, handing over her business card.

  Davinia nodded. “I started with commercials until I graduated high school. Then a big role came along with a major studio. I moved to California and used the scholarship I’d won to attend college out there.”

  “Did you family move with you?” This was her chance to steer the conversation to Brad.

  “No, they stayed here. My brother was only a sophomore then.”

  So Davinia was the older sibling. “What did Brad do after he graduated?”

  The actress grimaced. “Nothing good. I’d hoped he would—”

  “Davinia, what are you doing?” Oscar loomed into view and tapped her arm. “You’ll be late for your interview, and you promised the reporter a half hour.”

  “Oscar, dear, this is Marla Vail. She’s the salon owner whose stylists did the girls’ hair. She’d like to do more work with actors, so maybe we can put in a good word for her.”

  He raked Marla over, his beady eyes cool as obsidian. His stocky body was encased in an impeccably tailored suit with a crimson bowtie. He sweated under the sun while she wondered why he would dress so formally for an outdoor festival.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, his voice as curt as his manner. “Come on, Davvy. We have to go. Remember what I told you to say to this journalist.”

  They strolled off without so much as a goodbye. Marla stared after them, taken aback by the manager’s rudeness. Davinia seemed to allow him to push her around. Then again, he was responsible for her schedule. Apparently, he also advised her on how to relate to the press. Marla couldn’t fault him for doing his job, but he could have been more polite.

  He’d cut off what Davinia had been about to say regarding Brad’s life after high school. Frustrated that she’d been so close to gaining new information, Marla turned away.

  A brief flash hurt her eyes and made her wince. What’s that? Something gleamed in the grass.

  It was a diamond tennis bracelet with rocks half the size of her fingernails. As Marla stooped to pick it up, she noted the clasp was open. It must have slipped from Davinia’s wrist.

  She peered around but didn’t see the actress in the milling throng. Unfortunately, while Marla had given Davinia her business card, the woman hadn’t shared her contact info.

  Reluctant to place such a valuable object in the festival’s Lost and Found, Marla stuck it in her purse and vowed to return it later. Perhaps she’d run into Davinia again on the nursery grounds. Or she might find the pageant director who would have the woman’s number.

  She texted Dalton her whereabouts and was glad to hear Ryder had fallen asleep in his stroller.

  Pleased she could spare a few more minutes, she headed over to the design company booth. Caroline sat at their table alone and looking forlorn. After exchanging greetings, Marla asked where Brad had gone and if it was only the two of them there. This was a good chance to delve into the goings-on at the company if she could get Caroline to talk.

  “Brad went to say hello to his sister. Nadia couldn’t come today. She had no one to babysit for her son who has a cold.” A soft Southern accent inflected her words. She stood to face Marla, who admired her orchid dress and amethyst necklace with earrings to match.

  “When your child is sick, you have to do what’s best for him,” Marla said. She dug into her purse and retrieved her sunglasses. Her tool bags were getting heavy to carry. She should stash them in her car.

  “Is your baby here? I’d love to see him.” Caroline craned her neck to peer around Marla.

  “My husband is watching him. Even when he works, we have two grandmothers in the area who can help. What does Nadia do when she has an appointment on a weekend? Does she bring her child along? It must be difficult being a single mother.”

  Caroline wrinkled her nose. “Her boyfriend, Zerkov, used to babysit. But when he left, she didn’t have anyone else. She has no relatives nearby.”

  “That’s too bad.” Since Caroline seemed willing to talk, Marla would take advantage. The crowds had started to thin, so it was less likely they’d be interrupted. People were heading to the guest chef’s cooking demonstration.

  “It’s worse because Zerkov took his car that Nadia was using,” Caroline added. “Her old Dodge broke down and she didn’t have the cash to fix it, so she sold it to the mechanic.”

  “That’s awful. How does she get to work?”

  “She uses public transportation. Poor thing can barely pay her rent and certainly can’t afford any new car payments, not that she’d get approved for a loan. She’s scared Yanni will discover her financial situation and will sue for custody.”

  “Yanni? I thought you said Zerkov was her boyfriend?”

  “Yanni is her ex-husband. He’s been nothing but trouble.” Caroline wagged a finger at Marla. “Nadia won’t let anyone take her son away. That boy means the world to her. There’s nothing she wouldn’t do to keep him.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Marla pondered Caroline’s last remark. How far would Nadia go to preserve her family? Maybe Jack had discovered the architect had a live-in boyfriend and threatened to tell her ex-spouse. He might even have demanded payments to keep quiet.

  Nadia was already cash-strapped, and that would have been the last straw. Had she been so desperate that she’d asked her boyfriend to eliminate Jack?

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why does Nadia stay with your firm if she could make more money elsewhere?” Marla asked. “It’s obvious she’s a skilled architect.”

  Caroline pursed her lips. “Nadia won’t leave because she’s afraid she would be unable to find another position. Plus, Brad does offer benefits like sick days and health insurance.”

  “I can understand the need for job security. However, I visited the granite yard the other day and met George Eustice. He said the design company owed him money. Maybe Nadia should start looking for other opportunities.”

  “Nonsense. Our accounts are caught up, thanks to a substantial deposit on a new job.” Carolyn darted a glance over her shoulder. Did she regret sharing that detail?

  Why would Brad use a deposit from a new job to pay his debts? Perhaps their company was having cash flow problems after all.

  “I’m a bit confused,” Marla said. “Did Brad issue the checks, or did Jack write them from a company account?”

  Caroline gave her a hard stare. “I don’t believe that’s your concern.”

  “Maybe not, but my mother would like to get her bathroom done as quickly as possible. If people aren’t getting paid, that could adve
rsely affect her project.”

  Tired of the sun beating down on her head, Marla stepped into the shade and plopped her bags on the grass. Caroline was being conveniently chatty, she thought. Was the woman bored, or did she have an ulterior motive in talking to Marla?

  “We should be back on track soon. Tell me, how’s the investigation going?” Caroline asked, confirming Marla’s suspicions. “Does the detective have any leads that are panning out?”

  “You must know Pete Ferdinand was arrested for the murder of Tobias Banyan, the permit inspector,” Marla told her.

  “Yes. We were shocked by the news. What have you heard about it?”

  “Apparently, they were involved in a copper theft ring in the past. Jack was part of their operation. I thought you vetted these people before accepting them onto your vendor list.”

  Caroline winced. “Jack hadn’t committed a felony. His conviction was for a misdemeanor. Brad found out about it at one point, and they had words. But Brad valued Jack’s skills and kept him on.”

  Was that the only reason Brad didn’t fire him?

  “How did Pete and Juan get assigned to my mother’s house?” she asked. “I realize Jack was foreman on all your projects, but don’t you have other contractors who do the general labor?”

  Caroline smoothed the soft waves of hair framing her face. “Pete and Juan had an opening in their schedule when your stepfather signed the contract. We have two other guys, but one was out sick and the other on vacation.” Her eyes saddened. “Now we’ll have to find someone to replace Pete as well as Jack.”

  “How did Brad take the news? He must have been upset to lose another worker.”

  Caroline peered past Marla. “You could ask him yourself if he’d return. He should have come back by now.”

  A young couple stopped by to inquire about the company’s services. As Caroline launched into her sales pitch, Marla glanced at her watch and grunted. She hadn’t realized so much time had passed. Wishing she could stay to chat further, she excused herself and moved on to find her family. The aisles had gotten more crowded, and she dodged people on both sides of the path.