Highlights to Heaven

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “Have you ever met Cutter Corrigan at those meetings?” Marla asked. “He used to be my teacher in beauty school, and now he runs a salon on Las Olas Boulevard. I understand he actively opposes the citrus canker eradication program.”

  Roger’s hazel eyes brightened. “Of course I know Cutter; he’s one of the founders of the group.”

  Marla’s pulse accelerated. “He became friends with Yani Verkovich. Yani, a scientist, defended the government’s viewpoint. Did you ever notice them together?”

  “They held some heated verbal sparring matches. Are you saying they were friends outside of this business? That’s hard to believe. They stood on opposite sides of the fence.” He belched, patting his large belly. Marla hadn’t missed how he’d made two more trips to the buffet table. His nose had reddened, veins protruding.

  “Verkovich is the guy who was killed in Goat’s house,” Marla remarked, watching his reaction.

  “Yeah, I remember you telling us.”

  “Has Cutter seemed upset lately at the meetings? I mean, since Yani was no longer on the scene?”

  “Nah, he brought his other friend with him. That guy stuck close to his heels, if you get my drift.”

  “What friend?”

  Roger gave her a broad smile. “Why, the bald fellow who drives a motorcycle. He showed up a few times before. If anyone didn’t like Verkovich, it was him.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Marla drove into her garage, her mind on the conversation with Roger. The rest of the evening had passed in a blur. She’d been too focused on figuring out what his words meant. The bald guy who drove a motorcycle. A stranger who’d accompanied Cutter, and who didn’t like Yani. Possibilities scrolled through her brain. She couldn’t wait to tell Vail this latest tidbit.

  Shouldering her purse, she emerged from her car, hearing Spooks’s frantic barking from the kitchen. Before letting herself inside, she hit the control to lower the garage door. She’d just reached for her house key when a rustling noise from behind alerted her. She swirled around but wasn’t fast enough. A stiff blow cracked her shoulder. Crying out, she crumbled against the wall as white-hot pain streaked down her arm.

  “Bitch. Now it’s your turn,” hissed a voice near her ear. His muffled tone sounded vaguely familiar, and he smelled like something she should recognize.

  Hauled upright, she fought futilely while her masked assailant opened the driver’s door to her Toyota and shoved her inside. She gashed his arm with her fingernail, trying to free herself. With a cry of rage, he swatted her on the jaw as though she were an insect. She tumbled backward across the seat.

  Looming closer, he grabbed her purse and stuck her keys in the ignition. While he occupied himself twisting the key to start the engine, Marla scampered away, reaching for the passenger door.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” Grabbing her ankle, he tugged her in his direction. Marla screamed, fury and fear fueling her voice. Hands circled her throat, squeezing. Her lungs dragged for air, but she couldn’t expand her chest. Lights danced before her eyes. She felt her body go slack as consciousness ebbed.

  The pressure on her neck eased. Her ears picked up the sound of a door slamming, footsteps stomping away. A loud snap, followed by a rumbling noise. She didn’t move. Her breath coming in short gasps, she concentrated on breathing. More rumbling, then just a steady vibration.

  She blinked, focusing her vision. A deep, long breath rattled through her constricted throat. She still lay on the front seat in her car, and the doors were all closed. The ignition was running, she realized slowly.

  Oh no. Her assailant’s intent became evident. Leaning upward, she bit back a cry of pain as her left shoulder folded. That was the side she’d hit against the wall. Carefully pushing herself upright, she turned off the engine while wondering if her light-headedness was due to the blows she’d received or car fumes. Her gaze caught on the automatic garage-door opener. She pressed the button. Nothing happened, although she heard the motor. This isn’t right. She tried again. The door remained shut.

  She saw her purse lying on the ground; the intruder was gone. While able to think clearly, she popped the door locks open. Drinking four glasses of wine at dinner had contributed to wobbly knees. At least she was awake, and agile enough to stumble from the car.

  If she hadn’t turned when her attacker first struck, his blow might have cracked her skull. Or maybe not, if he intended this to appear as an accident. Choking her unconscious would leave marks though, wouldn’t it? Another hairstylist bites the dust. Not this time.

  Holding her breath to avoid taking in any more exhaust fumes, she let herself into the kitchen, where recessed lights burned brightly overhead. Slamming the door, she locked it while the security alarm shrilled. Spooks barked wildly, charging her ankles. Should she leave the alarm on until the cops came? Letting it ring, she considered why the garage-door opener hadn’t responded. Air had to be let in to disperse the fumes in the garage, but she would wait on that-her attacker might still be watching the house. He would return if he realized she’d escaped.

  Her fingers shaking, she withdrew her cell phone from her handbag and dialed Vail’s number. He didn’t answer, so she left a voice message.

  The doorbell’s insistent ringing and Spooks’s loud response brought her to the front door, where she peered out the viewport. A uniformed officer faced her. She asked to see his badge before letting him inside.

  The policeman found out what was wrong with her garage door right away. “It’s on manual,” he said, after he’d fixed it and then raised the door to ventilate the space. “See this spring? You have to snap it back into place on the track. The guy who attacked you must have raised it manually from the inside and closed it the same way. If you hadn’t seen him do it, you wouldn’t know why the automatic opener wasn’t working. He must’ve planned for you to be unconscious long enough to absorb a toxic level of carbon monoxide.”

  By the time the officer finished getting her statement and conducting an inspection of the premises, it was after midnight. Marla didn’t want to stay home alone for the rest of the night. She could let herself into Anita’s house with her key, but what if the killer followed her there? Would it be safer to stay with Vail? Chewing her bottom lip, she quaked with indecision while the responding officer spoke to his supervisor.

  Another car pulled up, one that Marla recognized. Relief swept through her as Dalton strode in her direction, his face grim.

  “Are you all right?” He scrutinized her from head to foot. His mouth tightened as he noticed her rumpled appearance and the darkening bruises on her arm and cheek.

  She allowed herself a weak smile. “I’m fine. How did you know?”

  “Officer Gallagher called me. The guys know we…I have an interest in your safety,” he ended lamely.

  “I left you a voice message. You didn’t answer your phones.”

  “I’d retired early for the night for a change.”

  She noticed the shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you and for making you leave Brianna.”

  “She has Lucky to protect her. Where’s Spooks? Didn’t he warn you?”

  “The man who attacked me must have been hiding around the corner of my house. I assume he slipped inside the garage when I drove in.” Briefly, she related her ordeal. “I locked Spooks in my study so he wouldn’t interfere in the investigation.”

  “You can’t stay here. Get your dog and come to my house.” He gripped her by the shoulders, eliciting a grimace of pain. “You’ve been hurt,” he said gruffly. “How bad is it?”

  “I’ll live. That’s what counts.”

  Gently, he prodded her left side. “Let me know if you want to see a doctor.”

  “Thanks, but I’d rather see a bed right now so I can collapse.”

  Ten minutes later, she held a hastily packed overnight bag in one arm and Spooks in the other. The poodle yipped excitedly when she placed him into the backseat of Vail’s car. Vail’s
face settled into an impassive mask as they drove away. Lost in her own thoughts, Marla barely noticed when they turned into his driveway fifteen minutes later. He parked the car, then sat unmoving while he regarded her with a strange expression.

  “What is it?” she said, wondering what he wasn’t revealing.

  “I have some bad news.”

  Her heart lurched. “Oh, no. It’s not about Goat?”

  “This doesn’t relate to the case at all. I just had to tell you, although I know this isn’t the best time. Carmen is quitting.”

  “What happened?” She could tell by his taut voice that he was upset.

  He waved a hand. “She’s moving up north to be near her sister. Guess I’ll have to start advertising for another housekeeper.”

  “That’s a shame.” Too bad, you have your tsuris, and I have mine with Carolyn’s salon. Why can’t things ever run smoothly?

  “It’ll be tough on Brie for a while, coming home to an empty house.”

  “She’s a resourceful girl. I’m sure she’ll manage.” This is what partners in a successful relationship do, she thought wistfully. They share problems. It’s easier to face things when you’re not alone.

  “Don’t be surprised if she calls you more often,” Vail added, studying her reaction. “She holds you in high regard.”

  “Ha. That’s a switch from when we first met.”

  “Since you’re ending up here so often lately, I should give you a house key.”

  Warning bells rang in her mind. No way, bubula. “Why do I get the feeling that would lead to chauffeuring jobs, helping with homework, and cooking meals several times a week?”

  He tickled her arm, making her notice his hair, and how his silver streaks gleamed in the moonlight. “I’d like you to be here when I come home, too.”

  She swallowed. “I have a salon to run. I can’t play housewife and mom.”

  “I’m not asking you to cook and clean. I’ll still hire a housekeeper. That’s not why we need you.”

  We need you. Her eyes moistened, and she blinked furiously. Stan had never needed her. It had been the other way around with their relationship, and he’d taken advantage of her vulnerability to control their lives. Now she stood firmly rooted with her feet on the ground, and she wouldn’t let another man dislodge her.

  “I was nearly killed tonight, and you’re pressuring me to move in? I don’t want to deal with this right now.”

  His smoky gaze captured hers. “That’s why I’m talking about it. I want to protect you.” She opened her mouth, but he touched his fingers to her lips. “I know you can handle most things on your own, and I respect your ability. But in this, I’m well trained. I let you do your job. Why won’t you let me do mine?”

  Feeling herself falling under his spell, she brushed his hand away. “This is more than your job. It’s personal.”

  “Damn right.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  The press of his mouth on hers made her fears melt away. As she yielded to his tender exploration, she realized he hadn’t offered anything beyond her moving into his house.

  Springing back, she opened her car door. “There’ll be a better time for this discussion. Let’s go inside.”

  She was too exhausted to do anything but settle Spooks, change into a nightshirt, and retire to the guest room. Sleep didn’t come easily. She tossed and turned, feeling the assailant’s breath on her face and wishing she could figure out why he smelled so familiar.

  Friday presented a busy day at work, distracting her from nightmares. She went about her business with a remote feeling, hoping Vail would conclude his case so she could get on with her life. Little things that wouldn’t ordinarily bother her were making her jittery.

  “Hey, Giorgio,” she called to the stylist during a lag between customers. “Did you reorder those supplies like I asked?” She strode over to where he was cleaning his shaver and tapped him on the arm. When he winced, she frowned at him. “What’s the matter?”

  His eyes were intent on his task. “It’s nothing.”

  No? Her gaze narrowed. She’d scratched her assailant last night, and now Giorgio’s arm hurt. And, as she’d noticed before, he fit the description of Cutter’s friend: dark hair with Latin good looks, plus he had a hairdresser’s license. He could easily have been the man Virginia saw with Cutter at the hair show. But how or why would Giorgio be involved? Could he be related to Wyeth? Nah, they looked nothing alike. If memory served her correctly, Wyeth had a narrow face with blue eyes. Giorgio was just as tall but stockier, and his eyes were brown. Not that she remembered Wyeth all that clearly. Fourteen years had distorted the memory cells.

  He turned his gaze on her. “Are you all right? You seem out of sorts today.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, a bit too harshly.

  “Don’t worry about the suppliers. I called them earlier. Did you know they sent us the jasmine volumizing fixident instead of pure liquid hair gel? I corrected the order.”

  “Thanks. Nicole, when you’re finished drying your hair, can you run over to the bank for me? I have another deposit.”

  “Sure thing, girlfriend.” Nicole paused, blow-dryer whirring. “I didn’t see your car in the parking lot this morning.”

  Marla’s cheeks warmed. “Dalton gave me a ride. I had a problem last night and had to leave my car at home.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Don’t give me that look.”

  “Take my advice. You’re not going to find a better man.”

  “Oh yeah? What about Barry?”

  Nicole shrugged. “He’s okay, but I don’t see you getting all hot and bothered over him.”

  “I’m not hot and bothered over anyone.” She rolled her shoulders, biting back a curse when a gripping pain caught her unaware.

  “Ouch, that hurt.” She’d had trouble putting on her pullover sweater this morning. Just what she needed, a disabling injury. All right, so she was in a bad mood.

  She addressed the issue bothering her when Vail arrived at eight o’clock to take her home. “I don’t think we should wait until Sunday to check out Evan’s ranch,” she told him during the drive home. “This has to end now, before anyone else gets hurt. Have you found any trace of Kenya?”

  “I put one of my detectives on her trail.” He gave Marla a sly glance. “Anyone at work been unusually inquisitive lately?”

  She shot him an irritated look. “Why?”

  “Just wondering how someone knew you would be out Thursday evening.”

  “My attacker probably watched the house, just like he did when he stole Goat’s envelope.” Maybe that’s why the man had smelled familiar. She’d grappled with him before.

  “Mmm.”

  Vail’s noncommittal reply raised the hairs on her nape. “Do you know something I don’t? If a staff member of mine is involved, you’d better tell me.”

  “I have a theory, that’s all. But you’re right. We need to do a more thorough search of Evan’s property. I think I know where that secret lab may be situated.”

  “Let’s go tomorrow night. I’ll be finished working for the weekend,” Marla suggested. If it were up to her, they’d go now, but Vail had to pick up Brianna from the bowling alley.

  “Sunday morning is better. That way we won’t stumble around the woods in the dark,” he said, his gaze focused on traffic.

  “No, dark is good. It’ll cover our tracks. It was just a full moon recently, so there should be enough light.”

  He glanced at her. “You won’t do anything stupid and go by yourself tonight while I’m gone, will you?”

  “I’m not that dumb. I’ll stay home with the alarm on, but only if we go tomorrow night. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “We can’t go tomorrow-not if you still want to park my car at Flamingo Gardens, that is. The place will be closed at night, and for all we know, the parking lot may be secured by a gate. Even if it wasn’t, our car would be too conspicuous there by itself.” He paused. “Besides, it’s supp
osed to drop into the fifties later. I know how much you like cold weather.”

  Marla hadn’t thought about sneaking around after dark while shivering from cold. The idea didn’t hold much appeal. “It’ll be trickier dodging the workers on the ranch in daylight. I still think we should go tomorrow night. We’ll find a place off the road to hide your car.” She deepened her voice to a sultry tone. “Agree with me and I’ll fix you a special dinner next time we’re alone.”

  “You owe me a meal Saturday anyway.”

  “That doesn’t count. We’ll be rushed if we’re going to the ranch. I’m talking about the next time we have no obligations and Brianna is otherwise occupied.” She tilted her head. “I’ll make it a feast worth waiting for.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “It could be a memorable evening.”

  “Memorable, huh?” His heavy-lidded gaze seared her. “All right, you’re on.”

  They crossed the boundary on foot to Evan’s property late Saturday night. Clouds partially blocked the moon, making their trek more difficult. Marla’s black leather jacket didn’t provide much warmth as the chill air penetrated. She stood by a strangler fig tree while they got oriented.

  “Brr. I should have worn my fur coat.”

  Vail, hands in his jean pockets, regarded her with bemusement.

  “I thought you were against animal abuse.”

  “I may not condone cruelty to animals, but I see no objection to wearing fur coats. Cavemen wore furs for survival. There’s no reason why we should give up the practice. Not that I’d go out and buy one. I inherited a mink coat from my mother, and I’m proud to wear it.”

  “Well, this isn’t the appropriate occasion for mink. Your turtle-neck sweater should be warm enough.”

  “Nothing is warm enough for me in this weather.” A chill wind bit her face, and she thrust her hair over her ears for protection. “I’m freezing my toches off.”

  His eyes gleamed. “I’ll tell you what. When this case is over, I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant, and you can wear your fur coat. Deal?”

  “You got it. Where do you think the lab is hidden?” she asked, fidgeting. She shouldn’t have drunk so much coffee. Finding a bathroom was not one of their priorities.