Facials Can Be Fatal

by Nancy J. Cohen

  “Has Dalton interviewed him?”

  “I’m not sure if he’s gotten there yet. But how could this guy be involved?”

  “Jason sent you their picture for a reason.”

  “I know. Maybe he was only guessing who might be involved in Val’s murder, if that had been his purpose in sending me the photos. For whatever reason, Jason got himself killed.” Marla paused. “I should go talk to the funeral director on my own.”

  “Don’t forget to investigate Lora Larue,” Tally advised her. “Lora knew both Val and Nadia, and perhaps Jason as well. Who hired him? Was he there for Yolanda’s benefit or the organization’s publicity?”

  “He told me Yolanda had hired him. But that’s enough for now. Thanks so much for letting me vent. This has helped immensely.”

  Tally stood and brushed off her pants. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to lie down while Luke is snoozing. His nap won’t last long.”

  “Of course, I’m sorry to keep you.” Marla grabbed her purse and gave her a hug. “Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do for you while I’m here?”

  “You’ve already cheered me up. We’ll talk again soon. Bye, Marla.” Tally walked her to the door, where Marla took her leave.

  Her body felt lighter as she strolled to her car, her burdens somehow relieved. It had helped to discuss things with Tally as always. She only wished she knew what was going on in their household.

  Meanwhile, she absorbed her surroundings. The December air smelled of wood smoke. Somebody must have a fire going in a fireplace nearby. Christmas lights decorated many of the houses in Tally’s development. And flowers bloomed, a winter sight she never failed to appreciate. She buttoned her sweater, feeling she’d need a jacket by the evening.

  So what conclusions did she come away with? On the drive to work, Marla reviewed the points in her mind. Did any of these people moonlight as actors? What was the relationship of the funeral director to Henutt? Was anything crooked going on at the art gallery? What did Lora do on her business trips? Could she be trading favors with other hotel managers for free hotel stays?

  One item they hadn’t discussed was Warren’s journal. Val and then Nadia had possessed the book. Now both of them were dead. How could Jason be involved?

  Maybe he’d been digging into Val’s past and came across an article relating to her father’s trip. A news piece about Warren might mention Howard’s father as well, if the two men were connected as Marla surmised.

  Excited by this possibility, she added another item to her mental list. They needed to track down newspapers from that time period. Jason’s demise could be the key to unlocking the puzzle.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Marla’s mother called before she reached the salon. “Have you eaten lunch yet?” Anita said, her voice filling the space via wireless connection.

  “I’m driving to work, Ma.”

  “So? You don’t have to be there until one. Do you have time to stop for a bite to eat?”

  “Only if it’s fast.” Marla glanced at the clock. It wasn’t quite noon yet. She’d planned to grab a sandwich at Arnie’s place but could make a detour. “I’ll meet you at the diner.”

  “Good, I’m ten minutes away. See you soon.”

  Wondering what Ma had on her mind when they’d just seen each other two days ago, Marla headed east on Broward Boulevard. The parking lot by the restaurant was crammed, so she got a space nearer to Publix. By the time she’d walked the few paces toward the corner eatery, Anita was waiting for her by the front door.

  “So what’s up, Ma?” Marla said after the hostess had seated them and the waitress took their orders. She examined the interior, crowded with patrons. With its varied menu and reasonable prices, the place was always busy.

  “We didn’t have much chance for a private chat at Christmas. It’s so odd to see a tree in your house, but that’s the way of things these days.”

  “We’re an interfaith family now. Get used to it.” Her skilled eye took in Anita’s short white hair, red painted fingernails, and stylish pants set. Ma looked well, so surely she didn’t have some dire ailment to report. What else could be on her mind?

  “The dinner conversation devolved to crime solving again,” her mother remarked. “When are you going to stop chasing criminals and do your duty to the family?”

  Marla took a sip of water. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you and Dalton planning to have a baby?”

  Marla coughed, spewing water droplets. She grabbed a napkin. When she’d recovered, she regarded her mother with a disgusted glance. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? You know how I feel about having children.”

  “Yes, but you’ve been married a year now and you’re not getting any younger. If you change your mind later, you’ll run into complications.”

  “It’s my choice, Ma. Besides, you already have grandchildren.” Thank goodness her brother had fulfilled that obligation.

  “That’s not the point. You’re dissatisfied with the salon business as your sole focus. So be a mensch and have a kid. If you’re worried about your mothering abilities, you’ll do fine. You’ve proven it with Brianna. She’s turning into a lovely young lady.”

  Marla smiled at the compliment. “Yes, she is. It helps that we’re past her hormonal surge, although her driving lessons are riling Dalton something fierce.”

  “I’ve no doubt.” Anita reached forward to cover her hand. “I know your soul craves something more. Push aside your fears and move on with your life.”

  She snatched her hand away. “It’s not fear holding me back. I don’t want kids to tie me down. I’ve never traveled anywhere, except for our honeymoon. There are places I want to go and things I want to see. Once you have children, you’re stuck for twenty years, not to mention the cost.” And yet a vision of what she’d be missing—an infant like little Luke smiling up at her—intruded on her thoughts. Disconcerted by the notion, she shoved it aside.

  Anita stiffened. “If you say so. I just hope you’re happy with your choice when you are my age.”

  “We’ll have Brianna, and I have my niece and nephew. We won’t be alone.” She bit her lower lip upon noting Ma’s expression. Well, that was tactless, Marla. “Um, how are your mah jongg games going? Have any cruises coming up with the gang?”

  “Not in the near future.” They sat back while the waitress delivered their meals. “By the way, I’ve met someone.”

  Marla paused with a potato chip halfway to her mouth. “Oh, really?” Maybe this is why Ma wanted to meet her today. “Who is he? And why wait until now to tell me?”

  “I didn’t want to mention it in front of company. We met at my book club. He’s the new group leader.”

  Marla had hoped her mother would be content without jumping into another relationship so soon after dumping Roger. When she considered it, though, Ma was only sixty-seven and could have many good years ahead of her. Why should she be alone if she could find companionship? It just seemed strange to think of her mother with boyfriends.

  “Tell me about him,” she said with a polite smile.

  “Renfield is a retired literature professor. Conversation with him is so stimulating. He likes to go out and have fun, and he isn’t stingy like Roger. We hit it off right away. There’s one thing, bubeleh. Reed—that’s his nickname—isn’t Jewish.”

  Marla’s jaw dropped. Hadn’t her mother been the one to harp on her to marry a Jewish man? “I don’t believe it. Here you were criticizing my Christmas tree. What a hypocrite.”

  Anita twirled her iced tea glass. “We enjoy each other’s company, and that’s what counts at our stage in life. But you have to worry about raising children.”

  “No, I don’t. Soon Brianna will be going to college, and then Dalton and I can travel to all the places I’ve dreamed about visiting.”

  “If you can afford it, between her college tuition and living expenses.”

  “I have money saved up in a vacation fund.” They ate in sile
nce until the waitress cleared their empty plates and left the bill on the table.

  Anita tossed out a few dollars for a tip and picked up the tab. They’d pay at the cashier up front. “I’m glad we had this little chat. You don’t call me very much these days.”

  “Come on, Ma. You know things are hectic during the holidays. I’ll be glad when everything gets back to normal after New Year’s.”

  “I don’t know that I’d call crime solving getting back to normal.”

  Marla gritted her teeth in annoyance while Anita paid the check. They exited together.

  “Let’s do lunch again after the holidays are over,” Marla suggested to mollify her mother. “Meanwhile, why don’t you bring Reed to our New Year’s Day party so we can meet him?”

  “I’ll see if he’s free. Be safe, bubeleh.”

  They embraced, and then Anita turned in the opposite direction. As Marla neared the driver’s side of her car, she frowned. Was something hanging beneath her vehicle? She bent over to get a closer look. It appeared as though a wire had come loose.

  She froze, Dalton’s warnings ringing in her head. Good God, what had he told her about car bombs? Look for dangling wires, aluminum foil, and she couldn’t remember what else. Would it be foolish to call the cops?

  Her nape prickling, she glanced up and down the asphalt, but no one appeared to be observing her. First Val had been killed, then Jason and Nadia. Was it her turn now?

  Her eyes narrowed as she thought about Patty’s actions. A microphone placed at her salon station would pick up her conversations with Nicole. Did the bad guy hear her mention that she had Warren’s journal? Presumably that’s why he’d sent Patty to search her drawers and attempt to break into her car. He might be afraid of what she’d read in Warren’s story.

  She hurried back to the front of the restaurant. She’d call Dalton so she wouldn’t seem like an idiot if this proved to be a false alarm.

  Half an hour later, fire trucks with flashing lights convened in the parking lot. A bomb squad unit pulled in. Dalton spoke into his radio where he stood beside Marla, while she phoned the salon with yet another delay.

  “I’ll take you to work,” Dalton said after he’d signed off. “You don’t need to stay here.”

  “Is there really a bomb? I wasn’t imagining things?”

  “You were right to call me. I’m glad you were diligent.” He gave her a quick embrace. “This could have gone wrong if you hadn’t been alert.”

  “Will they be able to disarm the device without blowing up my car?” She’d finally given up the lease and purchased the Camry. She didn’t want to lose it this way. That inane thought kept her sanity, otherwise she might cede into hysterics. Her body trembled, but she forced herself to remain outwardly calm.

  “The guys are good at their job. They have to be. Come on.” He guided her to his sedan. “The slimeball behind all this must believe you’re a threat.”

  “I have to read the rest of Warren’s journal. It has to be significant.” Marla wrapped her arms around herself, wondering which of her recent moves had spooked the killer. If she hadn’t noticed that wire . . . Her blood turned cold at what might have happened.

  She cast aside her thoughts of the intended outcome even as her gaze darted to the side view mirror as they entered traffic. Was the bad guy watching to see if his plan worked? And when it didn’t, was he following them? She didn’t note any vehicle behind, which reassured her for the moment.

  “So what did you think about the Pilates instructor’s statement?” she asked in a logical manner to get herself back on track. “Had you known Val was a closet lesbian?”

  His gaze focused on the road, he crinkled his brow. “No, you’re ahead of us on that one. It puts an interesting slant on things, that’s for sure.”

  “Nadia and Lora were both in the same exercise class. Do you think they were involved in a love triangle?”

  “All indications show Lora is fond of men, so I doubt that was the case.”

  “Oh? How so?”

  “She oozes seduction when she’s around the male sex. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  Marla stared at him. The woman’s oversized figure wasn’t the rail-thin type most men preferred. But then again, Biggs Kahuna had a fondness for her. Marla wouldn’t call him a hunk by her standards. Maybe Lora had a special appeal for men with a heftier build?

  Her thoughts drifted back to the wires trailing underneath her car. What had she uncovered that threatened the killer? Could it truly be about the journal, or were there other factors she was overlooking because of her focus on that book?

  “What did you learn in your background check of FOFL’s board members?” she asked her husband. “Did you find out what Lora does on her excursions around the country?”

  His hands gripped the steering wheel as they paused at a red light. “Her trips seem legit. She checks into a hotel at each location, visits the preservation society in the area, and tours their projects. We haven’t turned up any red flags from her credit card charges or bank account. Well, then again, she does make a cash deposit after each trip.”

  “Is it a substantial amount?”

  “I’ll have to take another look. It could be meaningful, now that you mention it. We figured she was depositing a paycheck that she’d cashed in.”

  “If she’s doing something else on those jaunts and Val discovered her purpose, Lora would have had reason to get rid of her.”

  “Perhaps, but that’s a stretch.” The light changed, and he pressed the accelerator.

  They zoomed west in fairly light traffic. Westfield Mall passed by on their left. The Christmas tree market hadn’t been dismantled yet. Crap, Marla hadn’t even thought to go shopping for after-Christmas sales. She was missing out on all the bargains. At the very least, she should pick up some wrapping paper and greeting cards for next year.

  “Do the group’s board members get paid?” she asked, to divert herself from morose thoughts. There might not be a next year if they didn’t catch this killer before he struck again.

  “The four officers have paid positions.”

  “What about Lora’s day job? If she’s not on FOFL’s payroll, what does she do for a living?”

  “Lora is a commercial real estate agent.”

  “Really?” Marla straightened her shoulders. “She couldn’t be working in cahoots with Rick Rodriguez, could she? I mean, he’s a big-time developer. Maybe they do deals together.”

  “From what I’ve seen, Lora seems dedicated to her preservationist ideals. I don’t believe she could be compromised that way.”

  “Andrew Fine seems to have compromised his ideals. His latest articles are slanted in favor of Rodriguez’s acquisition of those properties on Hollywood Beach.”

  “I know. He’s operating in opposition to the group’s goals. It’s a puzzle to me why they’re keeping him on.”

  “It’s only that one project. Maybe he truly believes those buildings would be better off torn down. Solomon Gold can’t be the only owner. Perhaps the other homeowners would rather be rid of the headache and move on.”

  “Marla, why don’t you relax? You’ve had a stressful day. Let me worry about these things.”

  “When somebody just tried to blow me up? I don’t think so. Tell me, does Lora work for a firm that has franchises in these other cities she visits? Maybe she’s a regional supervisor of sorts who kills two birds with one stone during her trips.”

  “She doesn’t seem to go anywhere except where I’ve said.”

  “Does she meet with anyone else at these projects? Someone who isn’t part of the historic organization, I mean. She could be . . . oh, I don’t know . . . a member of an anarchist group, for example. I’m just throwing that out there because you shouldn’t discard her as a suspect.”

  “We aren’t, but Kat and I need more to go on where she’s concerned.”

  “Okay, does Lora have visitors in her hotel room?”

  He glanced at her, his gaze darkening.
“You think she’s a high-class hooker?”

  “It would account for the come-hither look you mentioned.”

  “That would be hard to pull off in different cities unless she belonged to a network.”

  “Is there such a thing nationwide?”

  Dalton shrugged. “Could be. I’ll ask the guys in that department.”

  “So the FOFL officers are paid positions. Do any of them work elsewhere? I believe Howard Cohn is a bank manager. How about Solomon Gold, the president?”

  “Gold administers the day-to-day business at the group’s office. He’s responsible for writing the monthly newsletter and for supervising restorations on their projects. But on a personal basis, he gets a substantial income from his rental properties. I imagine managing those places keeps him busy.”

  “I’ve only met the veep once. What does he do?”

  “Joseph Mancini handles fundraising and development activities, submitting grant applications, and nominating sites for Historic Place designation. He also coordinates educational webinars. He serves on the Florida Historical Commission and is a historical architect.”

  “Impressive. Did he have much contact with Val?”

  “To a certain extent, but he seems clean. He was overseas on a family trip when Val kicked the bucket. The guy didn’t get back until after the funeral and seemed genuinely upset about her death.”

  “That leaves Sue Ellen. Does the secretary even have time for another job?”

  “She doesn’t moonlight as far as I know. If she did, maybe she wouldn’t have to dip her fingers into the annual fundraising pie. She has a snarky attitude, like she feels entitled to more. She’ll face charges for embezzling once we solve the case.”

  “But you don’t think she’s guilty of plotting Val’s murder? She could have been afraid of getting caught, especially if Val questioned the receipts.”

  Dalton compressed his lips. “I’m not writing her off yet.”

  Marla would still place her bet on Lora. “Who else is on the board of directors?”

  “There’s Dr. Needles. He’s already under investigation for prescription abuse.”