Styled for Murder

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, while her mother beamed with pleasure.

  “It came out wonderfully, didn’t it?” Anita glanced at Marla in the mirror. “I’ll never be able to forget what happened here, but now we can move on. I’ve made sure the shower has been completely disinfected.”

  “I would hope so,” Marla murmured, not sure she’d be able to get past the image in her mind.

  “I want a change, Marla.”

  She gave her mother a startled glance. “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “I’m tired of my hairstyle. Don’t get me wrong. The pixie cut is a cute look for me, but it’s time for a makeover. I’ve been growing my hair and want to become a blonde.”

  “Whoa, that is a big change.”

  “I feel as though I have a new lease on life. Reed finally told me what’s been bothering him.”

  “Is that right?” No wonder Ma looked so perky. “What did he say?” She leaned forward, eager to hear his admission.

  “For one thing, he’s relieved Pete Ferdinand is behind bars. The rest isn’t my story to tell. He’s willing to talk to you about it now. Would you like me to make you a plate of gefilte fish with a slice of challah while you’re busy? Or I could fix some tuna salad and sliced tomatoes.”

  “I’ll have the gefilte fish for a snack, thanks. It’ll be too early for lunch.”

  “All right. Come into the kitchen when you’re done.”

  Marla wandered into Reed’s office where he’d sequestered himself, allowing Marla and her mother some privacy. But now she looked forward to having a long-awaited frank conversation with him.

  Reed wore a sky-blue polo shirt over navy trousers and looked relaxed for the first time since their ordeal had started. He rose at her entrance, nodding a greeting, and gestured toward the leather chair opposite his desk.

  His green eyes met hers with solemnity. “How much has your mother told you?”

  “She said you’re relieved Pete is behind bars. How did you know him aside from his job here? There was some history between you and the people at the design center, wasn’t there?”

  “Not with the company. With Jack and Brad.” Reed picked up a silver and black ballpoint pen and clicked it on and off. “Brad was a scam artist who would open a company, steal money from customers, and then disappear. He’d establish another firm under a different name and do it again. Mostly, they’d take a fifty percent deposit from customers and then either complete part of the work or vanish altogether.”

  Marla sat forward, clasping her hands in her lap. “How did you know this?”

  His face reddened. “I’m ashamed to admit I was one of their victims. During my previous marriage, I signed the contract on a remodel and handed over a ten-thousand-dollar deposit to the salesman who’d given me the estimate. I even visited their showroom and met the president. It all looked legit, but that was the last I heard from them. When I drove by their office to ask why they weren’t answering my calls, I was astonished to see the place closed up.”

  “Did you report your loss to the police?”

  “Yes, of course, not that it did any good. They were fly-by-night operators. Then the weirdest thing happened. I was contacted by a woman who claimed to be related to the company president. She offered to make amends and gave me a refund.”

  Marla raised her forefinger. “Don’t tell me. That was Davinia.”

  Reed nodded and put down his pen. “I didn’t ask why she had gotten involved. By then, Theresa—my first wife—wasn’t feeling well. I thought the money would help pay for her medical care and didn’t care how I got it.”

  “Is that why you chose Amaze Design Center?” Marla guessed. “Because Davinia had endorsed the company?”

  “I figured she would offer an honest opinion, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. When I realized my mistake, it was too late. I’d signed the contract after meeting with Nadia and Caroline. I never came into contact with Brad or Jack during those initial meetings.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should have been smarter after I’d been duped once before and read more about the company.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Jack came by one day, and I recognized him. He’d been the sales rep who’d taken my phony deposit years ago.”

  Ice water sluiced through her veins. “You do realize this gives you a motive for Jack and Brad’s murders, right? What happened when you realized Jack’s identity?”

  “I marched down to their office and told Brad I knew all about them. Brad promised he’d gone legit and wasn’t lying. He wanted to make his sister proud and was sorry for the grief he’d caused everyone. But then I wondered....” A hint of fear entered his expression.

  “What?”

  “Jack was the rotten cog in the wheel. Perhaps Brad decided to rid himself of the liability.”

  Her mouth gaped. “You believed Brad killed Jack?”

  “If so, then he might come after me next. I knew all about his crooked deals. And by association, that would put your mom in danger. I couldn’t say a thing, no matter what Detective Wanner believed about me.”

  “Why did you argue with Brad at the garlic festival? That still makes you a suspect in his murder investigation.”

  “I told him I wouldn’t reveal what I knew about his past if he’d finish our remodeling job. Then Anita and I could move on and forget about all this stuff. It was stressing her out too much.”

  “Why would you confront him like that if you felt he posed a threat?”

  “I realized Jack’s death might have had nothing to do with Brad. I’d heard about how Jack and Pete had been stealing copper. I thought the other guy who died, the permit inspector, might also be involved.”

  “So you suspected Pete of doing in his partners in crime?”

  “That’s right. I’d been wrong to suspect Brad of killing Jack.”

  Marla shook her head. “This is confusing. With Pete in custody, who did you think was responsible for Brad’s death? Was it someone who might still come after you?”

  Reed spread his hands. “What for? Brad’s history has come to light. I can’t add anymore that Dalton hasn’t already learned.”

  Except for Davinia’s involvement, perhaps. But what had she done other than make restitution for her brother’s bad dealings?

  Marla’s mind reeled as she got up to rejoin her mother in the kitchen. The different cases had to be connected, but she still couldn’t grasp the critical link.

  After expressing her relief over Reed’s admissions, she pushed aside her musings about the murders. Their conversation centered on Charlene and Michael.

  “Charlene appears to be going through a midlife crisis,” Marla said. “She could get a job in Florida if she looked harder, but she insists on moving up north. She knows Michael’s business is here. He can’t uproot himself and start over. She’d have to leave him to get her dream job, at least in her view.”

  Anita placed a plate on the table and indicated they should sit. “She’s not interested in the alternatives if you ask me. There has to be some position in this state that would satisfy her.”

  “Maybe she’ll come to her senses.” Marla cut a piece of gefilte fish with her fork and dipped it into a dab of red horseradish. It chilled her tongue as she chewed.

  “Has Michael suggested counseling? It could be helpful,” Anita said with a frown.

  “I don’t know if he’d agree. He’s upset by Charlene’s attitude.”

  “He should have confided in me. At least I could offer support.”

  “You guys have your own problems.” Marla hesitated. “I’ve gotten the feeling something is on Dalton’s mind, too. I don’t want to ask him about it when he’s on a case. I’m hoping he isn’t feeling overwhelmed at having a child this late in life.”

  “That man dotes on his son. I doubt that’s his problem. You should talk to him.”

  “We’ll see.” Marla buttered a slice of challah and took a bite. The soft bread gave her a sense of comf
ort as it resonated with her heritage.

  “I miss Ryder,” her mother said, clucking her tongue. “You didn’t send me any pictures yesterday.”

  “Here’s the latest one his teacher sent us.” Marla showed Anita the photo on her phone. “Did I tell you we made a reservation for Brianna’s graduation party?”

  They discussed upcoming family events until Marla made her departure. She wanted to share her news with Dalton, but first she planned to visit the design center. She needed to have another chat with Caroline.

  Brad’s killer was still out there, she reminded herself as she headed onto a main road. Aware she’d been neglectful of her own security, she checked her rearview mirror to make sure no one followed her.

  Thankfully, the design center office was still open. Marla hadn’t been sure what would happen after the company president’s death.

  “We have an obligation to our clients,” Caroline explained when Marla asked her why they hadn’t closed. The brunette manned her position at the front of the store. “Besides, the cops cleared the scene. They took what they needed from Brad’s office on Monday.”

  “Have you heard anything about a memorial service? I spoke to Davinia earlier this week, but she hadn’t made arrangements yet.”

  “It’s likely she’ll hold a private service to avoid the press,” Caroline suggested.

  “Wouldn’t she invite you and Nadia since you worked with Brad so closely?”

  “I don’t know about Nadia, but Davinia looked down her nose at me. As far as she was concerned, I sucked up to my boss. It never crossed her mind that I might have real feelings for him. At any rate, she might not want either of us to be present at his funeral.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. What will happen to the company now?”

  Caroline’s gaze skittered away. “That will depend on what he stipulated in his will.”

  Marla noted the place seemed hauntingly quiet. She heard nothing except the hum of the air-conditioning unit. Nadia must have taken time off or quit to search for another job.

  “Is there a particular reason why you came by today?” Caroline asked her. “I’m trying to get all our projects finished up. I don’t like to leave customers hanging. Our reputation still matters. Since Nadia and I may both have to apply for new jobs, we’ll need this place to look good on our resumes.”

  Marla folded her arms across her chest. “It would help if Brad’s murder was solved. Who do you think is guilty? It wasn’t Pete since he’s in custody.”

  “How did Brad die? No one has told me.”

  Marla noticed that Caroline’s blouse wasn’t buttoned correctly. She’d missed the top row with the one on the right. Perhaps she wasn’t as composed as she wanted others to believe.

  “I’m not privileged to reveal that information. But it would have to be someone strong enough to overpower the man, same as Jack.”

  Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Was Lenny at the garlic festival? He had planned to go to college on the GI bill, but then his father died, and he had to earn a living. He lifts those heavy piles of tile all day, and he’s the one who found Jack’s body. Plus, he’s one of the subcontractors whose payments got delayed. He might have blamed Brad for withholding the money.”

  “Lenny had an alibi, and so did Juan. Neither one of them was at the festival.”

  “How about your stepfather?” Caroline said, pointing a finger at her. “He’s been complaining about the delays on their project and Jack’s body was found on his premises.”

  Was Caroline truly grasping at straws, or was she diverting Marla’s attention on purpose?

  “Reed isn’t a killer,” Marla stated. “He knew Brad and Jack had swindled customers in the past. They changed names and companies until Brad decided to go legit. You could be implicated if he’s been lying. I’d suggest you come clean, or my husband will bring you into the station to find out what you know. He might even regard you as an accomplice in Brad’s murder.”

  Caroline glared at her. “I cared for Brad. I would never have hurt him. I’ll tell you what I know if you mention to your husband that I’ve been cooperative.”

  “I will.” Marla realized the killer might also take an interest in what Brad had told Caroline. If she wasn’t guilty, was she in danger?

  Caroline glanced at a smudge on the floor. “Brad lied to Jack about going straight. He had an almost pathological need to succeed, and his symbol of success was money. Brad took the final payment from customers and wired the money to his personal offshore account. He told me that once he had enough, he’d close the company and retire. We’d get married and go to live on one of the islands.”

  So Caroline had known about his schemes. Did she really believe his promises?

  “How could Brad pay his crew or his suppliers if he stole their money?” she asked.

  “He’d use the next deposit to pay off the suppliers from the last job. But he fell behind when we had a dry spell. That’s why he missed a couple of payments. He got caught up once we landed a major new project and received the deposit.”

  “Did Jack catch on? If so, he must have been upset that Brad had cut him out.”

  “Jack was furious,” Caroline said, wrapping her hands together. Her fingernail polish was chipped, confirming Marla’s opinion that the woman was more distraught than she let on. “In retaliation, he pocketed a share of the cash that Brad deposited in the company account for the paychecks.”

  “Whose idea was it to bribe the permit inspector? Was it Jack or Brad who ordered inferior materials on purpose to save money?”

  “That was Jack on both counts.”

  “His interference couldn’t have pleased your boss,” Marla said, tilting her head. Was Caroline speaking the truth? Or was she misleading her?

  Caroline studied a speck on her desk pad. “I was afraid Brad considered Jack to be a liability and had killed him. He made me send you a warning note after you came snooping.”

  Ah, so that explained the mysterious message she’d received at work.

  “If Brad murdered the foreman to silence him, then who killed your boss?”

  Caroline’s shoulders slumped. “I wish I knew. What does the investigation show? Is your husband close to an arrest?”

  Here it comes. Caroline is trying to get inside my head. Was this entire confession a ruse to get Marla to lower her guard?

  “I’m afraid he doesn’t share those details with me. You’d better tell the truth,” Marla insisted. “Otherwise, I’ll suggest to Dalton that you were complicit with Brad in altering his bookkeeping records. It might even be a case of tax evasion along with murder. Keeping silent is one thing, but actively covering up a crime is another.”

  Defeat etched Caroline’s features. “All right. There wasn’t any new project. Davinia approached me privately and offered money to restore her brother’s reputation. She made me promise I wouldn’t tell Brad. I wrote up a false contract to fool him.”

  “So if his debts were paid, who would still want to kill him?” Marla asked, feeling something was missing.

  “Beats me. I’ve told you all I know. I’m hoping your husband can solve this fast so we can get past this mess.”

  “Are you nearly finished with all the projects on the slate?”

  “Yes, thank goodness. But there’s one problem. I don’t have access to write checks from the company account. I’m thinking Brad might have added his sister as a signatory, but I haven’t gotten around to contacting her.”

  “Davinia might have access to his will, if he’d filed one,” Marla suggested. “His estate plans could include the company assets. Maybe I’ll visit her to see what I can learn.”

  Caroline’s face brightened. “Would you? Nadia and I are anxious to know what’s going to happen. If the business is sold, maybe we can keep our jobs.”

  Marla stared at Caroline, while thoughts tumbled in her mind. Davinia was definitely the nexus to which all trails led. But she still wasn’t sure which role the actress played, or how
much influence Oscar had over her. Marla would have to pay her a visit and pronto. The actress needed to take steps to ensure her safety before she became the next target.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Marla texted Dalton her plans and then headed east toward the Intracoastal Waterway. He’d be along to join her shortly, but she wasn’t about to delay her visit to wait for him. Thankfully, the same guest entry code worked at the private gate. She’d given it to Dalton as well.

  The maid answered the door and ushered Marla inside to await Davinia’s arrival. After a brief interval, the celebrity breezed into the foyer in a cloud of perfume.

  “Marla, darling, this is a convenient surprise. I meant to call you.”

  “Oh, really?” Was Davinia ready to come clean about her connection to Reed?

  Davinia straightened the scarf-like drape that covered her shoulders over a plum top and palazzo pants. She had piled her blond hair atop her head without a hair out of place. Marla scrutinized the woman’s hairline, or rather the lack of one. Was she wearing a wig?

  “I’d like to hire you to do my hair for the upcoming soaps award ceremony,” Davinia said.

  “Excuse me?” Marla gave her a startled glance. That wasn’t the topic she’d been expecting.

  “I was impressed by the job you did at the garlic festival, and you mentioned you’d like to do more work with celebrities. It’s a local event so you wouldn’t have to travel far.”

  Recovering her wits, Marla grinned at the prospect. “I’d be delighted. Thank you for considering me.”

  Davinia patted her hair. “You might have guessed this isn’t mine. It’s easier to throw on a wig or a turban to meet company when I’m at home. But my hairstyle isn’t why you came by.”

  “No, it’s not. I wanted to know if you’d made plans for Brad’s memorial service yet.” Numerous other questions hovered on her tongue. She glanced at the rear of the house. Were they alone, aside from the maid?

  “Come, let’s go into the front parlor to talk.” Davinia led her to a comfortably furnished room smelling faintly of wood polish and then faced her. “We’ve decided upon a cremation. Those were Brad’s wishes in his estate documents. Oscar is dealing with it. But you could have asked me about this in a phone call. Why the personal visit?”