Leveraging his large body onto a shampoo chair, he leaned back. The salon assistant, Joanne, hastened over to wash his hair.
Marla’s glance lingered on him, then she turned to Arnie. “Thanks for coming over. I can always count on you being there for me. Jill is a lucky girl to have you.”
Lowering his gaze, Arnie shuffled his feet. “Yeah, the kids adore her. She won’t be happy to hear this latest mess.”
Arnie, whose wife had died in a car accident, had been left with two young children. While Marla had always considered him a close friend, she couldn’t conceive of feeling anything more than friendship for him and had been delighted when he fell for actress and public relations specialist Jillian Barlow.
“Tell Jill hello for me. I’ll be all right, Arnie.”
“Don’t feel guilty. You’re not the only one who won’t miss that shrew. It’ll give the yentas something to talk about.”
He sauntered out the door just as a supplier walked in. Marla busied herself with a new order until Vail dropped into the seat at her station. Glancing toward the wall clock, she pursed her lips. Her immediate clients had agreed to be done by other staff members, but Marla could handle her later appointments. No sense in disrupting all their customers if Vail didn’t need her.
“Fire away,” she said, aware he was obligated to ask questions. Parting his hair with a comb, she let his silken strands run through her fingers. It brought to mind other places her fingers would like to roam, so she forced herself to focus on her task. That wasn’t easy because snipping Vail’s hair reminded her of Carolyn’s missing clump. Bile rose in her throat. Later, she could allow herself a full emotional meltdown, not now. Her movements switched to automatic at Vail’s first query.
“Tell me from the beginning how you met the victim.”
She knew that tone of voice. Although it projected only casual curiosity, the glint in his eyes told otherwise. Marla had no reason for subterfuge, so she gave it to him straight on.
“After graduating from beauty school, I obtained my first job as a stylist in Carolyn’s salon. That was before she moved away from Palm Haven to that other dinky location. She wasn’t a pleasant person to work for. Carolyn would demean people in front of their customers and never had a good word to say about anyone. It didn’t please her when I left a couple of years later to open my own salon. I took my client list and some of her staff members along with me.”
“That must’ve made her mad.”
“She bore a grudge against me ever since. It didn’t help that my salon thrived while hers sank into obscurity. Carolyn moved her place to save money on rent, but poor business sense led to another failure. She just wasn’t good to her staff, so it came as no surprise to me. Then she seemed to get financial backing from somewhere.”
“Yes, I remember you told me she subsidized foreign students at the Sunrise Academy of Beauty.”
Marla surveyed his cut in the mirror. Satisfied, she picked up a battery-operated electric razor. Bending his head forward, she proceeded to shave the back of his neck. Thank goodness he didn’t sprout hair in his ears like her mother’s boyfriend, Roger Gold. She shuddered whenever that fresser walked in the door. His bulk overflowed the chair, making it difficult for her to work around him. How unlike Vail, whom she yearned to touch in inappropriate places.
“Carolyn couldn’t have afforded to move back to Palm Haven on her own,” she said. “It was just to spite me that she got a space in the same shopping strip. Maybe she bribed our landlord.”
Before Vail could comment, a young woman breezed into the salon on a gust of rain-laden wind. “I must speak to your manager,” she said loudly to Luis in an accented voice. “Je suis…I am from Hairstyle Heaven. Something terrible has happened to our owner, and we have no one to take charge.”
Luis pointed to Marla. “You’ll want to speak to Marla Shore.”
“S’il vous plait, mademoiselle,” the woman said, approaching her with an imploring gesture, “you must help us. We do not know what to do.”
Chapter Two
Marla glanced at the young woman, whose petite figure looked svelte in a tube top, a skirt that was barely more than a piece of fabric, and sandals with heels so high they’d make her podiatrist happy for years to come. A mass of short dark curls framed a Mona Lisa face.
“Do I know you?” Marla asked, resting her hand on Vail’s shoulder. His solid musculature felt good beneath her fingers.
“My name is Claudia. I’m a hairdresser at Hairstyle Heaven. Our employer, Carolyn Sutton, is dead. It is so horrible. We know you didn’t like her, but can you please advise us?”
“I didn’t like her? You’ve got things reversed, honey. What do you want from me?”
“Your guidance, mademoiselle. Should we close the salon? Keep our appointments? There’s no one to tell us what to do,” the girl wailed.
“I’m sorry about your loss, but it’s not my job to instruct you. This is Lieutenant Dalton Vail. He’s in charge of the investigation.” Knowing he had to move on, she applied mousse, rubbing it in with a little more vigor than necessary.
“Hurry up,” he muttered. “I have to go.”
“Sit still. I’m almost done.” She dried her hand, then picked up the blow-dryer, flicking on its hottest setting.
“Miss,” Vail said loudly to Claudia, “why don’t you return to your salon and wait for me. Isn’t Sergeant Peterson there?”
She nodded. “I told him Carolyn has a sister. He spoke to la soeur, but we are not certain who will be in charge. The sergeant said he’ll need to check our records, look over Carolyn’s belongings, just in case her death wasn’t an accident.” Her lower lip quivered, and Marla felt a surge of sympathy.
“If it’s going to interfere with business, you might want to close for a couple of days,” Vail replied.
“Why don’t you call Carolyn’s sister?” Marla suggested, wielding the blow-dryer to fluff Vail’s hair. “She might be able to direct you to the family lawyer, and then he could tell you who’s named as Carolyn’s successor. If you girls want to keep working in the meantime, just collect your own money for now. The rent isn’t due for a couple of weeks, so you should be okay with the landlord.”
“We can stay open, non? Our customers want their hair done, and we need the income.”
“It should be feasible. You can order your own supplies, too. When you find out who the new owner is, ask her what you should do. She’ll have to change the account at the bank for a start, and talk to you girls about hours and such.”
“Thank you so much, mademoiselle.”
“Tell me, did you experience a power blackout this morning?”
“Pardon?”
“Did your lights go out? Is that why Carolyn went to the meter room?”
Claudia’s forehead furrowed. “Non, Madame said she had to—”
“Thank you,” Vail interrupted, casting Marla a meaningful glance. “We’ll talk when I come over in just a few minutes.”
Marla, aware of the listening ears around them, didn’t care. She wanted to hear the rest of Claudia’s response. When she opened her mouth to speak, Vail jabbed her. “Leave it for later,” he said, enunciating each word.
Watching Claudia’s retreating back, Marla gritted her teeth.
“Afraid I’ll contaminate a possible witness? I thought you wanted my help.”
His intense gaze met hers in the mirror. “I do, sweetcakes, but it’s still my job to interview everyone who knew the deceased. I’d rather talk to them first. Then you can practice what you do best: encourage Carolyn’s operators to talk and share confidences. You know their lingo. You’ll be able to pick up subtleties that I might miss.”
“Carolyn may have recruited her stylists to carry out pranks against me. I can’t trust any of them.”
Vail smirked. “Good, you shouldn’t. That’s why your viewpoint will be useful.”
Shutting off the blow-dryer, Marla plunked it on the counter. “Did you see how Claudia
looked away when I mentioned a power blackout? She knew about it. Probably Carolyn went to the meter room to turn off my electricity.”
“Or someone else did it in order to lure you there. Someone who knew about your feud, perhaps, and hoped you’d be blamed for Carolyn’s death.”
“If it wasn’t an accident.” Using a comb, she styled his hair.
“The medical examiner will determine cause of death, but with the victim’s neck at that angle, I have few doubts. If she encountered foul play, someone close to you may be responsible.”
“Anyone could have attacked Carolyn, even a stranger.”
Vail’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “Then why did that person hang around the meter room? How often have you gone there?”
“Only once, with the electrician.”
“Carolyn may have left the salon long before your power went out, for what reason we have yet to determine. Someone waylaid her, then cut the electricity to your place. You show up next. This strikes me as a predetermined plan.”
Her blood chilled. “I could have been killed, but he just knocked me over.”
“He or she? Tall or short?”
“I couldn’t tell. It was dark.”
“Any particular odors? Other impressions?”
“It stank from garbage. The bin is just outside. And from electrical wiring.”
“The person who trapped you inside…did it occur to you that he may have tampered with the wires and left a hot one for you to stumble across?”
“That’s unlikely.” She rolled her shoulders, stiff from stress. “Maybe an innocent bystander discovered Carolyn’s body and got spooked.” Grabbing a can of holding spray, she finished his hair with a light mist.
“You believe that like I believe in fairy tales.” He didn’t wait for her to unfasten his cape. Leveraging himself upward, he tore it off, tossing it onto the empty chair.
“The landlord,” Marla said absently, running her blow-dryer over the seat cushion to dust off cut hairs.
“Dennis Thomson?” Vail had heard her mention him before.
“He gives all the shopkeepers keys to the meter room, just in case. And he has one.”
“Meaning?”
“If he’d summoned Carolyn, she would have gone. I still don’t know how she could afford the rent here after she did so poorly in her previous location. You should have seen how she let things slide.”
“Where does Thomson keep his office?”
“He has a place by the bank. That’s where I go to pay my rent. I like to drop it off in person.”
“How often does he come around to inspect the property?”
“Rarely.”
“So you have no reason to believe he’d been here earlier.”
“I guess not, unless someone spotted him.”
“Which you could find out if you talk to people.” He stepped closer, gripping her shoulders, staring into her eyes in a way that made her knees weaken. “What do you say? Will you help me with this one?”
When his mesmerizing gaze turned on her, she couldn’t resist. ‘Til think about it, okay? No promises.”
He kissed her. “I knew I could count on you.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Umm, I need some more convincing.”
“Later,” he whispered in a husky tone before releasing her. Snickers from her staff turned his skin a charming shade of crimson. “How much?” he asked, reaching for his wallet.
“No charge. You’re considered family now.” More tittering laughs. “Don’t mind the girls,” Marla said with a smile. “They’re just jealous.”
She knew from experience that Detective Vail turned female heads wherever he went. Who wouldn’t admire him? He wore his broad shoulders squared back like a military officer. With his angularly handsome face and the steely glint in his fine gray eyes, he was an imposing presence. When he focused that intensity on you, it was as though no one else was present. Watching him leave, she felt a familiar warmth steal through her. The knowledge that he needed her was what ultimately drew her to him.
It won’t hurt to ask a few questions, she told herself, but work precluded following up on Vail’s suggestions right away.
Finally finding an hour free on Friday, after a customer canceled a coloring job, Marla sauntered over to the hardware store.
Sam Levy, wearing an orange vest with the store’s logo, stood behind the cash register. The silver-haired gentleman beamed when he caught sight of her. Like most of the retirees in the area, he’d migrated from the Northeast. Whereas Miami qualified for international status with its Latin American constituents, Broward County defined the southern “bagel belt” for transplanted northerners.
“Hey, Marla, how’s it going? Your detective friend find out anything new about that other salon owner?” Sam said in his New Jersey twang.
Gossip traveled fast among shopkeepers in the same strip. “The medical examiner’s report hasn’t been released yet, but the Sun-Sentinel reporter is saying Carolyn died under mysterious circumstances.”
“Do the cops suspect foul play?”
Leaning against the counter, Marla gazed into his pale blue eyes. He hadn’t yet acquired a perpetual tan, but then his skin of sixty-some years already contained enough age spots to warrant avoiding the sun. Or it could be he just wasn’t the outdoor type.
“They’re open to the possibilities. I suppose you’d have to consider me a suspect in that case.”
“Get out of town! You may have had problems with Carolyn, but you didn’t do it.”
“How do you know? After all those nasty tricks she played on me, I had the perfect motive.”
“Don’t think so highly of yourself. You’re not the only one to hold a grudge against her.”
“Oh? I didn’t realize you knew her so well.”
Sam coughed into a callused hand. “Not me. Some of her staff members have come in here, looking for light bulbs and such. They’ve complained about the way she treated them.”
“Ha! I’m not surprised. I used to work for her, after I graduated from beauty school. She never had a good word to say, only criticism. In front of customers, no less.” Marla remembered her humiliation as though it were yesterday.
“Has the lieutenant spoken to her girls yet?”
“Just in preliminary interviews.” She glanced at him curiously. “Did any of her operators say where they were from? I understand Carolyn employed a number of graduates from the Sunrise Academy of Beauty. She subsidized foreign students there.”
“I heard them jabbering in some language. Couldn’t recognize it, except that it wasn’t Spanish.”
Bilingualism being nearly an acquired trait among South Floridians since the Cuban influx, Sam’s remark didn’t raise her eyebrows. But where did the women originate from if they weren’t Hispanic? French-speaking Canada? “Do you think Carolyn got knocked off by a disgruntled employee?”
Sam shrugged. “Carolyn acted a bit weird. Maybe that contributed to her downfall. She could have annoyed someone in her spiritual camp.”
“What do you mean?” Shuffling through several magazines on the counter, Marla glanced at the covers of Kitchens and Baths, Better Homes and Gardens, Seventeen, Builders Square, and Gardening Today. A customer entered, clinking a bell on the door. The fellow wasn’t anyone she recognized. He seemed out of place in his sport coat and tie, as though he belonged in a downtown Fort Lauderdale office, in one of those tall bank buildings, instead of cruising the casual suburbs. Black hair was slicked off his wide forehead with something that looked more like suet than hair gel.
You want to be more kosher, pal? Drop the grease on your head and lose the suit. This is tropical territory, unless you don’t mind changing your shirt several times a day. Then again, Vail always wore a suit to work, and he looked smashing. It must be the way this guy was sweating that put her off. Or maybe it was his beady eyes that scoured them as though they were fire ants needing extermination.
Sam leaned forward, lowering his voi
ce. “Carolyn was nuts about voodoo stuff. If she let it interfere with her work, that might have made people unhappy. Whenever I talked to her, she referred to her ‘spiritual adviser.’ Seemed pretty hokey to me.”
“I didn’t know Carolyn was into that sort of thing.”
“You bet. Gotta go now. Keep me informed, will you?” He turned to the customer, who’d stopped right behind Marla, practically breathing down her neck. “May I help you, sir?”
Marla stepped out of his path but didn’t leave, remembering another reason why she’d come into the store.
The man glared at her as though he could wish her away. “I’m having a problem with a sink faucet. Where can I find your plumbing supplies?”
Like you’re going to soil your clothes to fix a sink? Yeah, right. “Sam, there’s one more thing. Remember I told you about my mother? She’s coming in for an appointment this afternoon, and I’d really like for you to meet her. Think you can stop by around three o’clock?”
Sam’s eyes twinkled. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me. The boss is coming in at two, so I should be able to take a break. I’ll be there.”
“Great, see you later.”
Stepping outside, she considered what to do with her remaining free time. Get a snack? Or swallow her distaste for visiting Hairstyle Heaven? Marla had yet to step inside Carolyn’s salon, because the prospect repelled her. She’d made some additional suggestions to Claudia about running the shop, since the girl had come pleading to her several times after their first encounter. But offering specific advice based on an examination of Carolyn’s business practices just wasn’t her place.
Vail was still looking into the legalities regarding Carolyn’s heirs, while Marla secretly hoped Hairstyle Heaven would be forced to close. From what Vail had told her, Carolyn’s sister, Linda Hall, did not inherit the salon. Nor did any of her other distant relatives. That left future management up in the air, while Carolyn’s staffers struggled to maintain the business in the interim.
Their landlord might know who had to pay the rent. Dennis Thomson’s office was a short drive away, a block across from her favorite Publix supermarket. Marla figured Vail must’ve spoken to him already, but maybe she could learn something new.
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