Hair Brained

Home > Other > Hair Brained > Page 17
Hair Brained Page 17

by Nancy J. Cohen


  She was reading an article on yoga for pregnant women when the instructor found her. The young woman strode forward, a fountain of energy. Her skin was flushed from the aftermath of exercise. She wore a silver angel pendant on a chain around her neck.

  Marla remembered someone she’d met recently had liked angels. Who was it?

  Shawna’s image floated into her mind. The account executive had worn a similar necklace. Did both women share the same interest in angels? That had to be a coincidence, right?

  “Hi, I’m Shannon Courtley. I understand you have some questions?”

  “Marla Vail.” She jumped up to shake hands with the instructor and then resumed her seat.

  The other woman sank into an armchair with a weary sigh. “It feels good to relax for a few minutes. How can I help you? Are you interested in classes?”

  “I might be. A friend referred me to your place. Her name is Deanne. She meets with a group of women on a bi-weekly basis, and they explore new sites together. They like to eat and drink tea at these gatherings.” Marla showed the piece of paper she’d brought along with the dates of the group’s outings.

  Shannon smiled, her teeth gleaming white. “Oh yes, those were the ladies from Boca. They did well in my class and seemed to enjoy themselves.”

  “They’ve probably taken sessions before. I’m wondering what your impressions were of these women. Was there a tall, leggy blonde among them? Her name would be Tally.”

  Shannon gave a vigorous nod. “She’s the one who could have been a model. I loved the outfit she wore. The royal blue color looked stunning on her.”

  “She owns a dress boutique. I’m surprised she didn’t give you her card.”

  “None of the girls said much about themselves. The lady in charge was more interested in sounding out our other students. You know the one I mean?”

  “If she’s a redhead, that would be Rissa.”

  “When the girls in my class were changing after the session, she went around and spoke to each one of them. They exchanged a few words, and Rissa gave out her card.”

  Rissa must have been trying to recruit more members for their group. “Did Tally seem engaged with her friends? Did she mingle with them?”

  “I’d say so. She appeared quite enthusiastic about the class. She told me she’d recently had a baby and needed to get back in shape. We have prenatal classes as well as sessions for new mothers.” The instructor’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at Marla’s figure. “Are you—?”

  “Not me, either way. I’m married, but we don’t have kids of our own yet. My husband’s teenage daughter is enough for us to handle. Tell me more about your studio,” Marla said, hoping to divert the instructor’s attention.

  Shannon crossed her legs, fitted with black athletic pants. She’d slipped on a pair of ruby ballet flats that matched her top. “We offer a variety of classes for different levels depending on your goals. Yoga has been around for thousands of years. It helps you gain flexibility, balance, and strength.”

  “So does dance. What’s the difference?”

  “Yoga is a full mind-body workout that combines strengthening and stretching exercises with deep breathing and meditation.”

  I’d meditate all right, but mostly about my to-do list, Marla thought. “Don’t you have to contort yourself into different poses?”

  “Most people find yoga to be relaxing. It can provide relief from stress and tension, and it helps to lower your blood pressure. Some forms are fast-paced and intense, like Power Yoga. That helps you burn calories and increase strength. Other types are more gentle and suitable for beginners.”

  “What if it hurts me more than it helps me?”

  “As with any physical activity, the risk of injury is present. You should check with your doctor if you’re not sure how this exercise may affect you. We require our students to sign a waiver of liability.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” Marla spread her hands in a helpless gesture.

  The instructor rose and pulled a brochure from a rack by the vending machines. “Here, this explains the various options along with our pricing packages.”

  Marla stood and accepted the item. “Thanks so much for your time. Is there anything else you remember from my friend’s visit?”

  Shannon scrunched her face in thought. “The redhead was the last one to leave the parking lot. A guy who looked like a panhandler sauntered over. I’d have been scared, but she reached into her purse and gave him a handout. Very generous of her, I must say.”

  “Had you seen this fellow around here before?”

  “No, he wasn’t familiar. Usually, these people stake out the bigger intersections.”

  “Maybe he spotted her group coming in and figured they’d be a soft mark.”

  “Maybe.” Shannon gave her an impish grin. “Anyway, it was great meeting you, Marla.”

  “I’m a hairstylist. If you’re ever in the area, stop by my salon. I’ll give you a discount on your first visit.” They exchanged business cards before Marla departed.

  Once back on the road, she considered what she’d learned. Rissa appeared to be the ringleader of the tea circle group. She was a schmoozer from the sound of it, introducing herself to strangers and handing over her business card.

  Speaking of handouts, how did Shannon know what Rissa offered to the panhandler outside? Did she see cash exchange hands, or was that a guess? Did homeless people usually hang out by yoga studios? And why was Rissa still there when the other women had already left?

  As she veered onto I-95 to head north toward the hospital, Marla shook away her unease. Likely, she was building mountains out of molehills. But it made her visits all the more imperative to the other places where the tea circle ladies had met.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tally didn’t seem any different to Marla when she arrived at the hospital a few minutes past eleven o’clock. Visiting hours had just started in the ICU. Marla couldn’t stay long, so she consulted with the nurses, combed Tally’s hair, and pulled up a chair at her bedside. Her friend’s body seemed to be shrinking under the sheet. Tally’s face was pale, her golden hair spread like a halo against the white bed linens. Today she had on a gown with a blue plaid pattern that might have matched her eyes had they been open.

  Would her gaze be intelligent when her lids lifted of their own volition, or would they be void of memory and experience like a newborn? Was anybody home upstairs?

  Regardless of her mental state, it would be a long road to recovery when she woke up. The doctors seemed to think it was a matter of time and healing, now that she was past the critical stage. Even when she left the hospital, Tally wouldn’t have the stamina to care for Luke or to go back to work for a while. But they could cross that bridge in the future.

  Marla reached for the book she’d brought in her handbag. During her last visit to Tally’s house, she had grabbed a bunch of mystery novels she’d seen on the bookshelves, thinking she could read to her friend while sitting there. First she rambled on, sharing Luke’s antics and hoping Tally could hear her somewhere deep inside her brain. Then she picked up the novel and began reading, her mouth forming the words while her mind raced ahead to her next plan of action.

  Time passed rapidly. That afternoon ran into the next one. Despite her best intentions, Marla wasn’t able to pursue the case until later on Friday. She was at work that day waiting for a customer to arrive when Dalton called.

  “What’s up?” she said into her cell phone. She headed outside for a breath of fresh air and a modicum of privacy. With a weary sigh, she sank onto the unoccupied bench in front of her salon facing the parking lot. The chilly temperature cooled her skin, but her sweater provided enough warmth.

  “Mallory and I met to exchange information. Now that I’m officially on the case with Ryan’s death, he’s shared what he knows.”

  “So Ryan’s murder and Ken’s accident are related?”

  “He’s calling Ken’s death a vehicular homicide. The sea
rch is still on for the other car, but it must be garaged somewhere. It hasn’t surfaced.”

  Dozens of questions came to mind. “Does he know what Ken was doing on that road in the middle of New Year’s Eve?”

  “Mallory has been cooperating with the Department of Financial Services. Their regional LEO revealed that Ken was working with them as an informant.”

  Marla knew LEO stood for law enforcement officer. She sucked in a breath at this news. “So he was on the side of the good guys.” A sense of vindication filled her. She should have had more faith in him.

  “That’s right. He came to them, when a client tipped him off to a possible fraud scheme. The field officer told him to sit tight, because Ken wasn’t sure who in his office might be involved. Their investigation became more widespread than expected. They’re not sure how far up this thing goes.”

  “Did they tell Mallory what type of fraud is involved?”

  “No, they’re keeping mum in that regard. The dead agent, Louise Harrison, was Ken’s handler. I don’t want to overlook other possibilities, so I’ll be investigating everyone Ryan has been in contact with recently.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be as thorough as always. How about the computer data from Ken’s machines? Were the techs able to find anything significant?”

  “Ken was doing research into claims histories, but that could have been part of his job. The insurance bureau will better understand that stuff.”

  “Why do they believe Ken was killed? Did the rat in his nest discover his role?”

  “That’s the presumption,” Dalton stated in his wry tone.

  “Then who made the phone call to him that night? And for what purpose?”

  “We may never know. How did Louise end up in that warehouse? Had she been grabbed earlier and taken there? Or maybe she’d found something and called Ken to come meet her. The killer overheard their conversation, bound and shot her, and then ambushed Ken.”

  “Or the bad guy could have forced Louise to call Ken and plead for help,” Marla suggested. “That would explain his rushed departure on New Year’s Eve. The crook would have known that road was dark and bordered a canal. He planned a trap for Ken.”

  “And Tally was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Dalton concluded. “She wasn’t meant to be there.”

  Marla fell silent, watching the cars come and go in the parking lot. A breeze rustled dead leaves on the ground, bringing an earthy scent to her nose.

  “If this all falls on Ken, there’s no purpose in my following Tally’s trail.” She hated to give up, but the evidence appeared solidly in Ken’s court.

  “On the other hand, what if it’s a smoke screen?” Dalton replied, his voice terse in her ear.

  “What do you mean?” She sat upright, pressing the phone tighter to her head as a supply truck rumbled past and belched fumes.

  “Somebody knew Ken was home, lured him out, and targeted Tally in the house alone with Luke.”

  “You’re saying Louise’s abduction was part of a plan to get Ken out of the way? This person would need to have far-reaching strings to know about the fraud case. And why go after Tally? I haven’t uncovered any secrets worth her death.”

  “Maybe you haven’t dug deep enough. Keep at it. I have the insane feeling that everything is connected.”

  “All right. Are you coming home before we go to dinner tonight?” They were supposed to meet Anita and Reed. The older couple was leaving on a cruise the next day.

  “Sure, I’ll let Langley follow the paper trails. How about if I meet you at the restaurant?”

  “Okay. See you there.”

  *****

  Marla felt like she was part of a cavalcade with Brianna and Luke in tow. The three of them made it into the restaurant where the others waited. Anita enjoyed playing with the baby and feeding him his bottle as he sat in his portable seat. Dalton engaged her mother’s boyfriend in conversation. That left Brianna texting friends on her cell phone and Marla ruminating over what she’d do for the rest of the weekend.

  “Have you learned anything new about your friends? How is Tally progressing?” Anita asked once they’d received their entrees at the lively Italian place.

  “The doctor says she’s improving, but I don’t see much difference,” Marla replied. “She’s stabilized for now, and that’s a good thing. Plus, her bruises have faded.”

  “Did they give you a time frame for her waking up?”

  “It could be any day now. She’s moving around in bed, and her reflexes respond to stimulation. But her mental state remains to be seen. We won’t know more until she’s awake.” Marla pushed the broccoli around on her plate. She couldn’t wait for Tally to regain consciousness and yet dreaded the outcome.

  “Have you learned any further details about the accident?” Reed asked in his deep baritone. He spoke with a cultured voice that suited a retired literature professor.

  Marla’s gaze flitted from his graying red hair to his green eyes the color of shamrock to his straight, narrow nose and trim beard. He cut a handsome figure in his camel jacket, pressed brown pants, and white dress shirt open at the collar. Anita looked petite in comparison, even with her layered white hair fluffed atop her head.

  “We have a new case that relates to the vehicular homicide.” Dalton stuffed a forkful of angel hair pasta into his mouth. In full detective mode, he gave them a rundown.

  “So it appears someone in the insurance agency is a rotten egg,” Reed stated, his eyes expressing keen interest.

  “Yes, but whoever it is knows how to cover their tracks. I can’t help feeling we’re missing something important.”

  Anita wagged her finger at Dalton. “Give yourself a break from work. Insights come when we least expect them. Let’s talk about Luke instead.”

  The conversation segued to baby care, Brianna’s school projects, and other mundane topics.

  “When are you visiting Tally again?” Dalton asked as they strolled to the parking lot after paying the tab. They’d treated the older couple for a change.

  “I’ll go on Sunday. I promised your folks that I’d bring Brianna for a visit. Kate said I could leave Luke there, too, so I could get some other things done. Will you come?”

  He shook his head, the silver highlights in his hair gleaming under the street lamps. “I’m going to be busy working Ryan’s case.”

  She swallowed her disappointment, being used to his irregular hours by now. So when Sunday rolled around, she dropped the kids off as promised at her in-laws and headed to the hospital on her own.

  Inside the solemn institution, she took the elevator and hurried past the ICU nursing station toward her friend’s cubicle.

  Except Tally wasn’t there. The bed was empty, freshly made with clean white sheets.

  Dear Lord. This can’t be it.

  Her limbs heavy, she reversed direction and accosted a nurse she recognized.

  “Where’s Tally? What’s happened to her?” she asked in a raspy voice. Her heart pounded so hard that her temples throbbed.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, luv. Didn’t anyone notify you? Your friend has been moved to a neurovascular intermediate unit.”

  Marla’s heart slowed from its rapid staccato. When she’d regained a sense of calm and her knees stopped shaking, she followed directions to Tally’s new location. The room was semi-private, but its other bed remained unoccupied. Marla moved closer to the bedside. Tally lay with her eyelids at half-mast.

  “That’s what we call doll’s eyes,” the nurse said after Marla introduced herself to the staff. “Her eyes are the slightest bit open, but you’ll see they are mostly fixed. She almost seems to widen them when we call her name. She’s even yawned and moved her mouth. These show great progress.”

  Marla shared the news with Brianna on their way home. The teen sat in the back to keep Luke company.

  “I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that empty bed.” Marla still felt shaken over the incident.

  “It’s a good sign if they
’ve moved her out of ICU. Maybe she’ll just open her eyes one day and be her normal self,” Brianna offered in a hopeful tone.

  “I wish. Do you mind if we stop by her house? I’d like to make another sweep. We’ve been concentrating so hard on looking for clues to Ken’s end of things that we’ve ignored Tally’s role.”

  Brianna stayed with Luke while Marla dashed inside her friend’s vacant home. First she collected the mail and piled it in the foyer. Then she searched through Tally’s drawers looking for any items that might help reveal the killer’s identity. Nothing turned up to interest her.

  Was it foolish to suspect Tally of being involved in something more than stumbling into the wrong place at the wrong time? Ken’s work site appeared to be case central, although Dalton agreed things didn’t totally add up in that direction.

  Marla sat on the family room sofa, debating what to do next. She seemed to be running into dead ends at every corner. Meanwhile, Brianna and Luke waited for her in the car. She pressed her hands against the cushion to push herself upright when her fingers encountered a hard ridge. What was that? Something rested beneath the padding.

  She stood, yanked it out, and gave a yelp of delight. An iPad! Tally must have stuffed it in there for security before she left the house on New Year’s Eve. She was always advising Marla to hide her valuables when expecting service people.

  Feeling as though she’d struck gold, Marla put the iPad inside a plastic shopping bag from the laundry room along with the pile of mail she’d gathered. She couldn’t wait to get home and turn on the device. Oh, wait. It might need charging. Where did Tally keep the wire?

  As Marla searched for it, another thought struck. Did Tally bring her iPad to work with her, or did she own a laptop? If so, where was the notebook computer? She’d have to make another visit to Tally’s boutique and ask the manager.

  Brianna waited patiently in the car with the windows down. Occupied with her cell phone, she barely glanced up as Marla approached. Luke appeared to be fussy, his movements accompanied by whimpers. It had been a long day. Time to make him comfortable and lay him down for a nap in familiar surroundings.

 

‹ Prev