14 Hair Brained

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “Don’t mind me,” Robyn said. “I need to stretch my legs after the long drive.” She meandered off to examine the items on a set of bookshelves. Framed photographs and travel books vied for space with a collection of knickknacks.

  “What is it you’re hoping to prove, Mrs. Vail?” Liam’s voice was calm, but his tense stance radiated hostility.

  “Tally came to see you, didn’t she? She wrote the date down in her appointment book.”

  “She did come here,” he admitted, turning away to pace the tile floor. “She wanted information on her mother. I didn’t have much to offer. Lilly and I had dated in our younger days, and then we’d lost touch.”

  “Really? And Tally means nothing else to you?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Are you aware of her car accident?”

  His response was a fraction too slow. “I’m sorry. I don’t follow.”

  “She was in a rollover accident not that long after she came to see you. She survived but is in a coma at the hospital.”

  “That’s terrible. I had no idea.” He put on an appropriately sad face.

  “Her husband was killed in the crash. On the good side, their baby was home safe. I’ve been taking care of Luke since she’s been disabled.” Marla showed him a photo of the baby on her cell phone. Was it her imagination, or did a flicker of softness enter his eyes?

  “Cute kid. I don’t see what this has to do with me, though.”

  “Well, here’s the thing. When Tally and I were in college, we used to enjoy spending time together during the summers. Her parents got a divorce after our sophomore year. Tally never told me why her folks had separated, but I think she discovered the reason in this letter.”

  Liam jabbed a finger at her. “Give it to me straight, Mrs. Vail. What are you saying?”

  “I believe you and Tally share a closer relationship than you’d want anyone to know.”

  “Is that what this is about? Next, you’re going to ask for money in exchange for your silence? As a man in the public eye, I’ve been down this road before.”

  “Have you? Did you deny the truth to Tally? Because her very existence could prove difficult for you. Are you a married man, Mr. Kelton? Do you have children?” She walked over to the photographs on the shelves. “Lovely family you have here. And who is this?” She pointed to a picture of Liam as a younger man beside a girl who looked oddly familiar. Was that Lilly?

  “That’s Daphne, my sister. We were much younger then.” His voice turned wistful. “Time flies when you’re not looking, as my mother used to say.”

  “Regardless, our earlier indiscretions have a way of returning to haunt us.”

  His gaze hardened. “I’m afraid I’ll have to show you to the door. I have an engagement this evening that requires preparation.”

  “Do you mind if I use the bathroom?” Robyn asked, wandering their way. She looked weary, as though a rest in the hotel room would do her good. She’d revive soon enough if Marla mentioned shopping, however.

  “The guest bath is to the right down the hall,” Liam said with a curt gesture.

  “Me, too,” Marla added with an ingratiating smile. “It was such a long drive from Fort Lauderdale. Do you have another bathroom I can use? Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

  “Go upstairs. It’s the first door to your left.”

  Marla scampered up the carpeted steps. Hearing the housekeeper humming somewhere nearby, she bypassed the second lavatory to head for the master suite. If caught, she’d say she got lost. Liam’s wife wasn’t home, but her expensive shoes and clothes were evident from a peek at their closet.

  Marla shut the bathroom door and used their private facility. Washing her hands, she spotted a hairbrush near a man’s shaving set. A few swipes with a tissue later, and she’d snagged a few gray hairs. She stuffed the bundle into her purse. Then she exited before anyone came looking for her.

  Downstairs, she met Robyn in the front hallway. She wondered how to bring up the other matter on her mind.

  “Thanks for seeing us,” she told Liam, who stood ready to let them out. “I realize you’re very busy in your political role. You’re director of the state’s insurance fraud division, correct?”

  “I’m sure you researched me before coming here. And what was the point? You didn’t ask for anything. Most people want favors from me.”

  “I thought you might care about what happens to Tally. She’s going to need help when she leaves the hospital. She’ll have to raise Luke on her own.”

  “That’s not my problem, ladies. Just because I knew her mother in the past doesn’t mean I owe any obligation to Lilly’s daughter. Now if you don’t mind—”

  “Of course, Tally wouldn’t be laid up in a hospital bed if it weren’t for her husband’s involvement in a case of insurance fraud. Doesn’t that fall under the auspices of your department? Surely you must know his agency is being investigated. I’m hoping you can tell me what kind of fraud is being perpetrated and who else in his office has come under suspicion?”

  Liam’s mouth flattened, and his gaze chilled. “I’ve listened to you long enough. This conversation is over. Please don’t bother me again, or I’ll see that you regret it.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Liam is very sensitive on the topic of Luke and Tally,” Marla told Dalton and Brianna at Sunday dinner. “He wouldn’t admit to a connection between them, but his face changed when I showed him the baby’s picture.”

  Luke squirmed in his stroller parked beside them at the table. In another month or two, he’d be sitting up much steadier. She couldn’t believe how fast he was growing. Her fingers stretched out, and she let his tiny hand clamp onto hers as she gave a happy sigh.

  “So he admitted Tally visited him, but you still can’t prove anything,” Dalton said.

  She swept her gaze back in his direction, strengthened by his presence. “Oh, my. I forgot to give you this.” She disengaged herself from the infant and rose to get her purse from the kitchen counter. Inside was the hair sample she’d obtained. Marla handed it over with an explanation. “See if you can get it analyzed and compared to Tally’s DNA,” she requested.

  “We can get a swab from Luke for comparison. That might be easier.” Dalton got up to bag the evidence.

  “Wouldn’t this guy have known you’re married to a detective?” Brianna asked, before sticking a forkful of baked chicken tenderloin into her mouth.

  “Why should he?” Marla resumed her seat. “Even if he’s involved in the fraud case, he’s too far up the ladder to be concerned with details.”

  “I disagree. As head of his division, he should know about major investigations. That’s part of his job.” Dalton’s brow creased in thought. “Which do you think upset him more—the potential for scandal from his relationship to Tally, or his role in the fraud inquiry? I’m not clear on how you think he’s implicated there.”

  “Me, neither. I don’t have any theories. Call it a hunch.” Marla took a bite of roasted red potatoes with garlic and rosemary. She could barely smell it over the scent from a lit pumpkin candle.

  “We still know somebody from Ken’s office is involved. I wish the guys from the local fraud agency would be more open about their investigation.”

  Dalton’s morose expression prompted Marla to lighten the mood. “I’d say it was a worthwhile trip. Robyn had a great time checking out the shops on Lake Avenue. She bought a cute outfit in one of the dress stores, and I liked the spice place. We’ll have to go to Sunny Grove for a long weekend. You’d both enjoy the farmer’s market and botanical garden, and the Morse Museum has a collection of stained glass art.”

  Dalton’s gaze steeled. “I’m not going anywhere until we solve Ryan’s murder.”

  He was waiting for more test results on that oily residue found at both murder scenes. Marla wouldn’t hold her breath about it. Yet what other hope did they have? They weren’t any closer to pinpointing a culprit.

  The person in Ken’s office
could have been working alone. Liam’s connection could be purely personal. Or, the Russians could be the ones who’d ordered Tally to be silenced, meaning insurance fraud had nothing to do with the accident except for getting Ken out of the house. But then, wouldn’t Yuri have made another attempt on Tally’s life while she lay helpless in the hospital?

  Maybe they know she’s unconscious and doesn’t pose a threat that way. Did this mean if she woke up, she’d need protection? Dalton had determined a police guard wasn’t necessary. Should Marla suggest he revisit that decision?

  “Did you learn anything about the Russian mob and their possible involvement in Rissa’s affairs?” she said instead.

  “I’ve contacted the Boca unit. They haven’t gotten back to me yet. You’re thinking Tally might have been the target of the accident, and not Ken?” He shook his head. “It has to be related to the fraud case. Why else would he have been heading to the warehouse that night?”

  “We’ve discussed this scenario. It could have been a smoke screen to lure him out of the house.”

  “You two are missing the big picture,” Brianna cut in with an annoyed frown. “Who stands to gain the most from their accident?”

  “Lots of people,” Marla answered with a wry twist of her lips. “We need to narrow the list of suspects. Like, who can we eliminate?”

  Dalton pointed his finger at her. “May I remind you that this is my case? You need to back off for safety’s sake. You’ve already painted a big red target on your back. Your visit to Liam may have added another one.”

  “Then let’s hope we get a break soon.” She wasn’t about to let him shunt her to the sidelines, not when she’d dug up a fair share of the data.

  Marla rose shortly thereafter to clear their empty dishes. “I plan to visit Tally tomorrow. Robyn gave me a great idea. I’ll record Luke on my cell phone and play the video at Tally’s bedside. Hearing him might penetrate her brain and give her a reason to wake up.”

  *****

  At the hospital on Monday, Marla combed Tally’s hair while chatting about inane daily topics. Her friend remained silent, eyelids closed and limbs still. Then she played the video of Luke. Her friend’s eyes seemed to jump to life under her closed lids, and her legs shifted restlessly.

  “Come on, Tally, wake up! Your son needs you. I need you.” She wrapped Tally’s hand around her fingers. “Listen, squeeze once for yes and two for no. Can you hear me?” A faint pressure on her hand resulted. “Are you in any pain?” She felt two barely perceptible movements. Her heart leapt in joy. But beyond that progress, Tally’s status remained unchanged.

  Out in the corridor, Marla confronted the nurse. “Has she been responding like this recently?”

  The brunette beamed at her. “She’s been answering questions with hand squeezes. She kicks her legs, moves her mouth like she’s trying to talk, and has better eye tracking. The physical therapist is helping her get back in shape with mobility exercises.”

  “She seemed to tilt her head toward the sound of her son’s voice.”

  “That’s a good sign. She’ll regain awareness one of these days, you’ll see.”

  Marla left the hospital and strode to her car with a sigh of relief. It always felt good to leave that place. Relishing her freedom, she drove toward Las Olas Boulevard to meet her mother for lunch. Ma had returned from her cruise over the weekend, and Marla was eager for a report.

  “The trip was wonderful,” Anita said after they’d ordered their meals. She described the ship, the ports of call, and the food. Then she thrust back her short, white hair and showed off a pair of diamond hoop earrings. “Look what Reed bought me.”

  “Wow, that’s a nice gift. I guess things are serious between you two?” She didn’t know the former literature professor too well, but he seemed to be rushing things.

  “He cares about me, and I like being with him. We’re going with the flow for now.”

  “O-kay.” Marla wasn’t sure how she’d feel if the guy proposed and Ma accepted. At least Reed was a vast improvement over her mother’s previous boyfriend.

  She spoke about Tally and Luke and showed the video she’d taken of the baby.

  “You’re a natural with him,” Anita commented with a delighted grin. She jabbed a painted red fingernail at Marla. “Doesn’t this make you yearn for your own child? You’d make a terrific mother. You’re already great with Luke.”

  Marla gripped her water glass, a confession that she’d gone off the pill nearly spilling from her tongue. However, she held her silence and changed the subject to discuss the murder cases instead.

  “Good heavens, Marla. Let your husband do his job. Stay out of it.”

  Marla, busy later with household chores at home, didn’t have a chance to think about tracking down clues until Dalton phoned.

  “The lab analysis I’d ordered came in earlier than expected. The oily residue from the crime scene derives from boat fuel. It’s dyed red in Florida to denote commercial use and to qualify the buyer for reduced tax rates.”

  “Commercial use? What does that mean?” Marla put the unit on speaker phone so she could continue filing receipts at the desk in their study. “Port Everglades has freighters and container ships as well as major cruise lines. Is it possible this person works there?”

  “I’m thinking smaller, like fishing boats or charter yachts.” His tone denoted a certain smugness, as though his field of suspects had just narrowed.

  “So your bad guy presumably got this stuff on his shoes.” She recalled the yacht photos at Ken’s insurance agency on the walls by Darryl’s desk. “Darryl likes boats, remember? He rents them in his spare time from that dock near Bahia Mar. Would this be the same kind of fuel he has to use?”

  “I gather red diesel is readily available at commercial marinas,” Dalton acknowledged. “That site where we interviewed Darryl has charter boats and tourist cruises. It’s possible he refuels his rental of the day. Residue from the fueling station might have stuck to his shoes. It’s worth checking out.”

  “How, by making another trip down there? That won’t prove anything. You need access to Darryl’s closet at home to check his footwear. Is this enough reasonable cause for you to get a warrant?”

  “Unless you know someone else who owns a boat, he’s our best guess. I’ll contact the judge.”

  “Darryl will be at work today. How will you get into his house?” She considered the set of lock picks that a friend had given her. Lack of practice made her skills rusty, but she could manage the basics.

  “I’ll show up at his workplace once I have a warrant and demand his house key.”

  “Oh, that’s smooth. And if he’s guilty, you think he’ll just hand it over?”

  “He’ll pretend nothing is wrong and will comply. A refusal is too close to a confession.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  She hung up, a puzzled frown on her face. If Dalton did find a shoe in the man’s closet with the residue, then what? Wouldn’t he have to get it tested to confirm it was a match for the substance at the murder scene? That seemed too circumstantial as a cause for arrest, unless they could also match his DNA to trace evidence from the victims. Even better would be locating the murder weapon.

  Dalton’s plan seemed too much of a long shot. Marla glanced at the wall clock in their study. It read two-thirty. She had plenty of time before picking up Luke at day care. What if she ran down to Bahia Mar to verify that the commercial boats there used red fuel? Otherwise, Dalton could be heading down the wrong path.

  She tidied the desk, refreshed her makeup, and headed out the door.

  *****

  The marina across from Fort Lauderdale Beach bustled with tourists and boat owners as the sun burned brightly overhead. Creaks and groans from sailing vessels competed with the splash of water as Marla strode the pavement in a pair of white-bottomed sneakers. She’d worn jeans with a long-sleeved top and felt comfortable with the temperature around seventy. The tang of an ocean breeze freshe
ned her nose and cleared her sinuses.

  She approached the boat rental booth, her cross-body purse strap slung diagonally across one shoulder. “Excuse me,” she said to the bearded fellow inside. “I’m interested in reserving a boat for a friend of mine, Darryl Trent. He usually likes a particular vessel, but I can’t remember the name. He comes here on weekends.”

  The man flipped through a log book. “Do you remember when he visited last?”

  Marla gave the date when she and Dalton had met him there.

  “Oh, yeah. He took out the Sea Lion.”

  “Tell me something. Do these commercial boats use fuel that’s been dyed red? I’ve read about how this distinction allows for a tax-free sale.”

  “Many boat owners will choose that option. It’s available at the fueling station.”

  “Is that a separate facility from here?”

  “Yep, you got it.” He grimaced at his log book. “You know, I think we just rented the Sea Lion for a trip to the Bahamas. We have reciprocity at a harbor there.” He ran his finger down the entries. “See, I’m right. Your guy was here less than an hour ago. He’d requested the Sea Lion yesterday, but it was in use. The renters brought it back in this morning. He should be there now getting ready to cast off if you want to catch him.”

  Marla’s heartbeat accelerated. If Dalton went to the insurance office to look for the account executive, he wouldn’t be there. Did Darryl intend to flee to the islands? If so, she had to stop him.

  Or not. Dalton would want her to call for backup. But what if Darryl had his boat shoes with him? Footprint impressions hadn’t been taken at the crime scenes to her knowledge, but the fuel residue might still be present on his soles. However, she couldn’t retrieve his footwear without compromising the evidence. Obtaining it properly was Dalton’s department.

  Before moving on, she sent her husband a text regarding the situation. Then she found the boat slip and halted beside a sleek motor vessel. She glanced at the flying bridge deck and noted a couple of lounge chairs facing aft for guests to catch the sun. Darryl sat at a command console forward toward the port side. Should she call out to him?