“I’ll bet your daughter would be proud of the young lady Brie has turned into,” Georgia said to Justine as she nudged Marla’s knee under the table. What was she trying to do, forge a mutual admiration society? Pam’s parents would never accept her as a substitute for Brianna’s mother.
Justine’s eyes misted. “You’re right. Brianna has her same dark eyes, too. She’d only want what’s best for you, dear,” she told the girl.
“Mom would want Daddy to be happy, too.” Fiddling with her fork, Brie spoke quietly. Marla’s heart went out to her. Caught in the middle, she shouldn’t be forced to choose sides.
“Your father needs a strong woman to support him. He works long hours in the police force, and some nights he doesn’t come home at all. That’s not the proper forum in which to raise children, unless he has a wife who cares more about her family than her job.”
Marla half rose from her seat. “Excuse me? Today a lot of families have two-career households. I can provide the same level of care as a stay-at-home mom. In addition, I’ll be a good role model for Brie.”
“Marla is there for us when we need her,” Vail added, his fierce scowl challenging his in-laws to defy him. “She may wear a lot of hats, but she puts her heart where it counts.”
“No kidding,” Georgia put in with a teasing grin. “It’s true that if Marla says she’ll do something, she’ll follow through to the end—and that doesn’t always work to her advantage. Like when we were college freshmen and she was put in charge of the light-bulb sale to raise money for our sorority. When the day came to distribute the bulbs, Marla noticed the supply fell short. She went around and unscrewed all the lights in the common rooms that weren’t being used and gave them to people to sell. She’d planned to run to the hardware store later to buy more, but before she could replace the bulbs in the empty sockets, the dean dropped by for a surprise visit. Needless to say, she got in a heap of trouble.”
Marla flushed in embarrassment while the others laughed, all except Justine, who didn’t appear amused. Marla remembered how she’d tried to live up to her commitment and had fully intended to replace the missing bulbs before the day’s end. That lesson taught her to expect the unexpected and to assess a situation before she got involved in it. Of course, sometimes she got sucked into things she’d rather avoid anyway, like this conversation.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she suggested, leaning back while the waitress delivered their meals.
“Yeah, Marla, let’s talk about that woman who died this morning,” Brianna said, making Marla nearly choke on the forkful of pan-fried tilapia in her mouth. “We often discuss cases over dinner,” the girl told her shocked grandparents.
“Well, I never,” Justine remarked, giving Marla a scathing glance.
“It helps to talk things out,” Marla said. “Brianna is pretty smart, and sometimes she comes up with a new angle. We consider it an intellectual exercise. Right, honey?”
Georgia cut in. “This may not be the best place to talk about Christine. I’d rather tell you about our new line of sunscreen products. We’re totally going to rule at the show.”
Sensing that Georgia was revving up for a sales pitch, Marla pressed forward. “Dalton, did you speak to your colleagues in the Fort Lauderdale precinct about their findings?”
Looking like a piece of meat being haggled over by a group of squawking vultures, Vail pounced on her opening. “Actually, I did. It doesn’t appear as though the victim’s death resulted from natural causes.”
“That makes it a homicide case, right, Dad?” Brianna said proudly. “Like, don’t keep us in the dark. What did you learn?”
He gave her an indulgent grin. “The deceased had a labeled prescription bottle in her bathroom. She took antidepressants, but the preliminary toxicology report showed a different type of medication in her system, something called a monoamine oxidase inhibitor.”
“What’s that?” Marla swallowed a bite of fried plantains.
“It’s a drug that’s dangerous when taken with certain foods. Together, they can produce a hypertensive crisis. But Chris’s regular prescription was for a newer medicine that doesn’t cause this adverse reaction.”
“I don’t understand. What foods do you mean?”
“Red wine and aged cheese, for example. She may have ingested these items at your cocktail party last evening.”
“Are you saying someone may have slipped her a riskier drug, or that her prescription was wrong?”
He peered at her from beneath his thick eyebrows. “The pills in her bottle were analyzed. They matched the label.”
“I don’t get it.” Marla tilted her head. “Somebody gave her a different antidepressant? Why? To produce a deadly interaction, and yet let it seem as though she had collapsed from a seizure?”
“But she did have a seizure,” Georgia put in.
“That’s one of the outcomes of a hypertensive crisis,” Vail explained. “In this situation, not of natural causes.”
“Chris drank wine last night,” Marla added. “Her glass always seemed to be full. I saw her nibble on cheese and crackers, too. How can that be harmful?”
Vail pulled a sheaf of folded papers from his pocket. The forensics guy faxed this over because I didn’t understand the whole thing myself.” He consulted his printout. “If you want to get technical, the first generation of drugs known as MAO inhibitors had a major side effect called the cheese reaction. There’s a substance present in certain foods that has the ability to release noradrenaline. This substance is called tyramine.”
“Really, Dalton, is this necessary?” Justine said with a sniff.
He spared her a glance. “Just let me finish. The MAO inhibitors prevent noradrenaline from metabolizing. That means when you combine those foods with this type of drug, you get an increase in sympathetic nervous activity.”
“Huh?” Marla took a sip of sangria, hoping the red wine it contained wouldn’t produce any adverse reactions.
Vail summarized from his notes. “MAO-A is the specific enzyme responsible for noradrenaline metabolism. After this was identified, the newer drugs were developed.”
“Didn’t you say Chris’s medicine was not harmful?” Marla asked while another gulp of fruity wine slid down her throat.
“Correct. She was taking one of the safer reversible inhibitors. The classic antidepressants are rarely prescribed anymore, but they may still be used for depressed people who don’t respond to other meds. In other words, you can still get hold of them.”
“So if you’re taking the classic drugs, you have to avoid red wine and cheese?”
“Any foods with tyramine, including aged cheeses, processed meats, wine, beer, yogurt, chocolate, and caffeine.”
“All the good stuff,” Marla muttered, thinking she’d almost prefer to risk illness than give up her morning coffee.
“What are the symptoms of a bad reaction?” Brianna inserted, buttering another piece of bread. Marla noticed she’d polished off half the loaf.
Vail shuffled through his pages until he found the response. “Headache, palpitations, nausea, chest pain, seizures, then circulatory collapse.”
“Chris complained of a headache last night,” Georgia said, twisting her napkin. “Oh gosh, I remember she ate some salami.”
Justine gave them all chastising looks. ‘This is a horrible topic to discuss at the dinner table. I swear, Dalton, if Pam were alive, she’d have your hide for exposing the child to this sordid business.”
“You’re right,” Marla said, agreeing for once. She glanced at Vail, who wore a sheepish expression while stuffing the papers back into his pocket. No time like the present for a change of subject. “Tell me, Justine, what did Pam like to do for fun? Dalton mentioned that she took walks in the park.”
It wouldn’t hurt for her to meet Pam’s parents at the halfway mark. They meant to guard Brianna’s future, so they’d probably scrutinize anyone Dalton chose for a second wife. She shouldn’t regard their remarks a
s personal criticism. It was time to dismiss Pam as a rival for Dalton’s affection and move on. He’d been willing to put his wife’s ghost to rest; now it was her turn. Fixing an interested expression on her face, she leaned forward.
Justine’s eyes lit up. “Pam was an old-fashioned girl at heart. She grew up with traditional values. Being a stay-at-home mom was important to her, but she also liked entertaining and getting involved in parent activities.”
Marla half-listened while Justine droned ori about Pam’s sterling qualities. She had intended to pay attention, but Vail’s drug explanations echoed in her mind, being of much more interest.
After they got home and her guests had retired to their rooms, Marla pushed aside her concerns and decided to get caught up on her phone calls. She spoke to her mother and brother, then phoned her best friend, Tally. Tally owned the Dress to Kill boutique where Marla bought a lot of her clothes.
“How’s the hair show?” Tally asked. “Or would you rather tell me how you’re getting along with your visitors?”
“You won’t believe this, but the company director was found dead this morning. Someone may have slipped her a drug similar to pills she was taking but with deadlier side effects.”
“No way. Marla, don’t tell me you’re involved in another murder investigation.”
“Of course not.” Marla filled her in on events so far. “Isn’t it curious that Chris’s demise happened under these circumstances? Think about it. A group of people get together only for these trade shows. Someone among them knows that Chris takes anti-depressants. It’s possible this person obtained the more dangerous drug and either substituted some tablets in Chris’s container or slipped it to her through another means.”
“Like in her drink at the cocktail party.”
“Exactly. What does this add up to in your mind?”
“A premeditated crime,” Tally said.
“I got the impression that a lot of folks didn’t care for Chris. She rubbed people the wrong way. Tyler, our area supervisor, was pissed that she promoted Janice Davidson over him. Jan made a remark that the promotion wouldn’t make up for what Chris did to her, and even Sampson got spooked when I tried to return a check he’d written to Chris.”
“Sounds like you’ve already been snooping.” Her friend’s tone held amusement.
“I’m keeping my ears open, that’s all.” Marla lowered her voice. “I can’t talk about it to Georgia. She keeps changing the subject. I’m wondering what really happened between her, Chris, and Tyler last night.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other. I’d be careful what you say around her.”
“Georgia can’t be guilty. She wouldn’t harm a soul. She certainly isn’t capable of committing murder.”
“No? Then perhaps you can find out what, if anything, she stands to gain from Chris’s death.”
“Who, me? I’m not getting involved. My job is to assist the master stylists at the show and host a photo shoot at my salon. That’ll be enough to keep me busy.”
Tally’s low, throaty chuckle didn’t come as a surprise. ‘Yeah, right. Since when has a hectic work schedule stopped you from sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong?”
Sitting on her bed, Marla grinned. “You have a point. I’m really trying to be good, though, with Pam’s parents here. It isn’t easy when they keep comparing me unfavorably to their daughter.”
“You can’t blame them. They must miss her terribly.”
Marla traced the pattern on her bedspread. “I guess so.” An uncomfortable lump rose in her throat. Justine and Larry brought home the fact that Pam had been a living and breathing individual, a loving mother to the family that Marla wanted to join, and a vibrant woman who had been taken from life too soon. Could it be that the pain of loss was reminding her once again of her own past mistakes and inadequacies?
“How is Ken? Any progress in that department?” she asked Tally to defer die conversation from herself. Her friend had been trying to get pregnant for months now. Since fertility tests had shown there wasn’t any physical problem, that left stress as a possible culprit Ken had urged her to hire a manager for her dress shop so she could take more time off. Tally had resented his implication of blame, and they’d embarked on rocky waters in their relationship.
“We’re thinking about taking a cruise,” Tally replied. “Ken won’t admit that his job makes him tense, and we could both use the break. I don’t know if I could stand being on a ship for an entire week, though.”
“You know what they say—a relaxing cruise washes away your worries. I wouldn’t mind trying one.”
“What about those brochures in your purse? Doesn’t look as if you’ll get to Tahiti anytime soon.”
“How about never? I can still dream, though. I’d be lucky to get as far as the Caribbean islands.”
Even the Caribbean seemed a lifetime away when Marla entered the trade-show exhibit hall early the next morning. Pounding music blared from loudspeakers as she strode past a flashing neon siren at the Code Blue display of wigs and accessories. Red carpeting had been laid down the aisles, and bright lights glared from tracks on the cavernous ceiling. Her pulse jumped as opening hour approached. Anticipation charged the air, and she had to force herself to stay on course to Luxor’s booth instead of straying to browse the exhibits.
Marla spied Tyler examining some Lado styling tools and stopped to tap on his shoulder. Georgia had already gone ahead, disappearing around the corner occupied by tooth-whitening products. Wares beckoned from all directions, making her wish she was attending the show instead of working it. She’d really like to take some of the classes offered in the advertised seminars.
“Morning,” she said to Tyler, who wore a suede jacket over a delft blue shirt. “It’s easy to get distracted, isn’t it?” She pointed across the way. “I need to check out those capes later. I’m going with a new color scheme when I move my salon.”
Grinning, he fell into step beside her. “You’ll have time during your lunch break to scout around.”
“Are we sticking to Chris’s schedule, or did Jan change things?”
His smile disappeared. “She’s made some adjustments. The cops wanna talk to us again, so Jan set up interview times.”
“That’s a bummer,” Marla said, using his type of language.
“Not so much for me as for your pal.”
“What do you mean?”
Tyler stopped by a video displaying an application of permanent makeup. “Didn’t Georgia tell you? When we spoke to Chris the night before last, she accused us of having an affair. Like, that’s totally false. You were there in the lounge, and you heard our conversation. Chris was way out of line. Worse, she was even angrier at Georgia than at me. I felt bad because Georgia had tried to do me a favor by coming along, but Chris wouldn’t listen to us.” He paused. “She fired Georgia on the spot.”
Chapter Seven
Tyler’s voice deepened. “No one else knows, except for us. But now that Chris is gone, Georgia can keep her job. Things worked out to her benefit”
Marla hadn’t realized her jaw had dropped open, but now she snapped it shut. Why hadn’t Georgia mentioned anything about this to her? She recalled how her friend kept avoiding the subject of Chris’s death. What else did Georgia have to hide?
“And then?” she said. “Is that when you left?”
“I gave up, figuring Chris might be in a better mood in the morning. Like, I tried to tell Georgia, man, but she was too upset. I could hear them arguing as I walked down the hall.”
“Did you notice the time?”
“It was, like, after one o’clock.” He resumed his pace toward their exhibit.
Marla shifted her purse as she strode beside him down the aisle. “Were you aware that Chris took antidepressants?” Vail might have wanted her to withhold that information, but Jan knew about it already from the hotel staff.
Tyler gave her an oblique look. “Chris’s personal life wasn’t my
concern.”
Before she could question him further, they arrived at their booth. Jan, looking stunning in a black suit with gold trim, descended upon them, clipboard in hand. She meted out assignments without so much as a greeting.
“Tyler, allow me to introduce you to Lou and Nina. They’re local store managers who will be helping Miguel and Georgia at the sales counter this morning. Amy Jeanne will oversee their operation, while you and I will follow up on our accounts.”
Marla glanced at the stage, where Ron was setting up equipment. Liesl, who’d been helping him, bustled over.
“Hi, Tyler,” the young stylist said, wiggling her body, dressed in a metallic grape-colored sheath.
“Hiya,” Tyler said, barely sparing her a glance. But then he seemed to have second thoughts and winked at her. “Cute outfit, babe. Where’s Sampson?”
The maestro is still upstairs,” Ron called out. He wore a flashy black jacket emblazoned with silver studs. “Hey, Marla, come over here. You’re doing a demo this morning.”
Startled, she gazed at him. “Huh? What demo?” She approached the stage, noting he’d laid out his cutting implements on a tray.
“We thought it would be instructional to correct your technique in a live performance. One of the models is coming in at ten. You’ll do a cut-and-style, and I’ll critique your work.”
“Are you kidding? I’m not prepared for anything like that.”
He tossed her a smock to wear over her suit. Earlier, she’d refused to wear a costume like a showgirl. “You’ll do fine,” he said with a reassuring grin. “Just be careful with my tools, okay?”
As the show got underway, she had to raise her voice to be heard. A cluster of bejeweled models swept past the aisle, their hips swaying to the music as though they were on a runway. They represented Farouk Systems, which apparently had a presentation coming up. She needed to see a program.
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