“I always try to use sunscreen,” Marla said quickly. Sliding off the treatment table, she stood and faced the doctor.
Dr. Greenberg, clearly in his element, wagged a finger at her as he said, “Apply it on all exposed areas, but be aware this will not allow you to sit in the sun longer. If you do, you’ll end up getting the same amount of UV exposure as if you hadn’t used sunscreen at all.”
A buzzer sounded, and the nurse slipped outside the door into the corridor.
“Speaking of life-threatening matters,” Marla said, recognizing her opportunity, “I believe Heather’s association with Luxor may have gotten her killed.”
Dr. Greenberg stepped toward her. “What do you mean? I’ve spoken to the detective on the case, but he didn’t say much except that she’d been stabbed at a health club.”
“It seems more than a coincidence that first Chris was murdered, and then Heather.”
“And you’re concerned because…?”
“I want to continue my association with Luxor but not if there’s danger involved. What do you know about Bell Farms?”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Ha-ha.”
Marla wasn’t amused. “Did Detective Masterson tell you how he thought Chris had died? Whoever poisoned her must have had access to an older antidepressant medicine.”
“So I understand. I hadn’t been aware Christine had experienced such a degree of depression that she needed medication.” He clucked his tongue. “She always seemed so upbeat Her loss is felt deeply by our society members.”
“Was Chris’s mother on this type of medicine? I know you visited her in the assisted-living facility.”
“I only got a brief look at Violet’s chart. I don’t believe she was taking any medications.”
“Were you really there to examine her, or to meet Chris?”
Dr. Greenberg’s gaze chilled. “Both. She wanted me to check out a lesion on her mother’s arm.”
“One of the aides told me you had a lengthy discussion with Chris while you were there.”
“We discussed the arrangement between Luxor and the society, not that it’s any business of yours. She’d found some irregularities.” A puzzled frown creased his forehead as though the memory disturbed him.
The nurse peeked in the room, spurring Marla to ask her remaining questions before she lost the doctor’s attention. “Irregularities?” she repeated.
“In the bookkeeping department. I said I’d ask Heather to look into it. You don’t possibly think this is how their deaths could be connected?”
“It’s possible.”
He placed a hand on her arm, making her self-conscious about the drape she wore. She itched to put her shirt on.
“I realize you’re eager to help,” the doctor said, his hazel eyes intense, “but let me handle this. You don’t have to get any more involved than you are already. If you want to continue with Luxor, heed my advice.” He grinned. “In the meantime, come back in a year for another checkup, and stay out of the sun. You know the drill.”
Yeah, I know the drill, Marla thought during the drive home. Shut up and let the professionals handle the case—except Masterson isn’t getting anywhere. She wanted to follow this new lead but had promised to spend the afternoon with her company. With Vail at work and Brianna in school, it was left to her to entertain them.
She stopped for groceries, having invited the Luxor crew to her salon on Tuesday for a farewell party, and took the opportunity to restock her town house as well. Keeping guests well-fed quickly depleted her supplies along with her patience.
“How did your doctor-visit go?” Justine asked, helping Marla put away the groceries when she finally finished her errands. Larry lounged in the family room watching sports on television, while Georgia had spent the morning doing her hair and nails.
“Tell us, hon,” Georgia said from where she sat at the kitchen table, blowing on her wet plum polish.
“I learned a lot about skin cancer,” Marla told them. “Dr. Greenberg is very adamant about prevention. I can see why he gives his time to the melanoma society. Heather acted as the link between his charitable organization and Luxor. I imagine that’s how she ended up as a model at the show.”
“Huh? I don’t get it,” Georgia said.
“Chris arranged for the donation to the society through Greenberg, and he let Heather manage the details. He said Chris had found some sort of irregularity in the bookkeeping.”
“From Luxor’s end, or the society’s?”
“He didn’t seem to know.” She stuck a botde of milk into the refrigerator. “Anyway, Chris may have offered the modeling job to Heather out of appreciation, and you have to admit the girl had a great figure. Or maybe Chris just wanted her close at hand, to question her about the discrepancy.”
“No kidding.” Georgia narrowed her eyes. “Something smells fishy about this whole arrangement, if you ask me.”
“Tell me about it. I need to learn more.”
Justine handed her a carton of eggs. The older woman wore a silk blouse, navy blue skirt, hosiery and matching heels. Her navy and gold button earrings complemented her attire. She’d made up her face and looked as though she merely needed to grab her purse to go out on the town.
“Thanks,” Marla said, feeling an ounce of warmth toward her guest for not sitting on her butt and letting Marla do all the work. Maybe Justine was just beginning to appreciate how many different hats Marla juggled while caring for others.
“What do you guys want to do this afternoon?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject. “How about the water taxi, Flamingo Gardens, Bonnet House, or Las Olas?”
Spooks barked for attention. She tossed the poodle a treat and watched him scurry from the room to enjoy it in private. Thankfully, he seemed to suffer no bad effects from the tick and had returned to his normal, playful self. Now if only her life would follow suit. While the others debated what they wanted to do for the day, she whipped up turkey sandwiches for lunch.
She had just swallowed her last bite when the phone rang. Taking the call in her study, she was surprised to hear Sergeant Masterson at the other end.
“I thought I’d share some information with you,” his gruff voice said, “since I am dismissing the suspects on Thursday. That doesn’t mean I’m giving up on the case. I need more hard evidence, and you might be able to help.”
Marla broke in, excitedly telling him about her interview with Dr. Greenberg. “Isn’t it important that Chris found something wrong with the bookkeeping? Do you think the donations from Luxor aren’t being recorded properly?”
“I’ve already checked into the organization’s finances,” the detective replied. ‘The amount reported in the society’s books is less than what Luxor says is being donated.”
“Someone is diverting funds,” Marla deduced, her mind racing. “But at which end? If it’s Luxor, was Chris working the scheme by herself?”
“She’d need a partner, either the bookkeeper at her own company or somebody at the society.”
“Maybe she was in league with the dermatologist. He could have double-crossed her, after planting Heather as a model at the show and giving her the dangerous drug to put into Chris’s drink. But then, who murdered Heather?”
“Possibly Dr. Greenberg, if your line of thought rings true. To play devil’s advocate, why would he confess that Christine Parks had found something wrong with the accounts if he wanted to cover his own tracks?”
“Good point. And why would he kill Chris? Had she been about to turn the tables on him?”
“Personally, I don’t believe he’s our man. I’ve been consulting with the Miami Beach police, considering how both our victims were related. Either Heather was involved in embezzling money from the American Melanoma Society, or else she may have found out who is. But that could just be a smoke screen in this whole mess.” He paused. “Did you know Miguel Santiago’s brother is on the society’s board of directors? Parks had been suing him over a botched
surgery.”
“I knew about the brother but not that he was involved with the charitable organization. How is his record otherwise? Could he be the one skimming the cream?”
“Santiago has a respected reputation, and he’s in a stable financial position. I was thinking more along the lines of Miguel wanting to protect his brother from a harmful lawsuit.”
“The brother, a surgeon, would have access to drugs.”
“I’ve thought of that. I feel like I have all the dots in place, but I just can’t see how to connect them. This case bugs me, Miss Shore. I don’t want to see these people go free when I know one of them is guilty. Be assured I’ll be watching the doctors like a hawk, but I’m hoping you might learn something in the meantime from your pals at Luxor.”
“I’ve invited them to my salon tomorrow. You’re welcome to come.”
“I have to check out another lead. It’s a long shot, but I don’t believe in letting any stone go unturned. I’ll be talking to you.”
Marla hung up, frustrated that she had to spend the afternoon squiring her guests around when there were so many other things she’d rather do. Nonetheless, she was determined to play the perfect hostess despite the distraction of realizing that time was running out. If she didn’t get answers by Thursday, the person who’d left two women dead would be allowed to walk.
By Monday evening, her nerves were so frayed that when she found herself alone with Justine and Larry, Georgia having accepted an invitation from Goat to walk the dogs, she balked at Justine’s suggestion for a heart-to-heart talk.
“Look, I’m not really in the mood,” she said, staring out the kitchen window at the fading sunlight. “I’m sorry Brianna had choir practice tonight and couldn’t see you.” She’d noticed how Justine’s face fell during an earlier phone call to her granddaughter. They hadn’t had nearly as much time together as the elderly couple had wished. They would have had more time if they d stayed at Vail’s house.
Larry cleared his throat. He occupied his usual slouch on the sofa with the television blaring. The noise grated on her nerves, making her clench her teeth. She craved time alone, but since the killer might still be out there, plotting another attempt on her life, it was probably best to have company right now. Safety in numbers, she thought, trying to reach a state of calm by taking slow, deep breaths.
“Have you stopped thinking about yourself enough to realize how difficult this is for us all?” Justine snapped at her side. “You’re about to become Brianna’s stepmother, and yet you still show little regard for the woman who birthed her. That hurts me in here.” Justine beat on her chest, her face a mask of anguish.
Marla wheeled around. There was no avoiding this conversation. ‘That’s not true. I respect and admire Pam. She did a great job of raising Brianna. But I feel she comes between me and Dalton. Or at least she did, until he agreed to move to a new place. I don’t feel comfortable in the bedroom where they shared their lives or in the house your daughter decorated. I’d like to honor her memory, but not in a manner that keeps reminding me of the past.”
Dalton wasn’t the only one having trouble moving on, she realized with sudden clarity. Justine clung to her daughter’s memories because letting her go felt like a betrayal.
“You reject everything of hers that you find.”
“Because you stick it in my face. You’re not making it easy for me. I love Brianna as though she’s my own child. I want to be a good role model for her, and I can’t do that if you keep putting me down.” Marla regretted hurting the older woman, but she’d kept her emotions bottled to the point of eruption, and now the eruption had come.
“Being a role model isn’t as important as being a parent.”
“In my mind, they go together. Why don’t you stop fighting me and realize I have the same goal as you do?”
Justine covered her face with her hands. “I miss my baby. No one will ever take her place.”
“I’m not trying to, Justine. Trust me. I want to do what’s best for your granddaughter.”
Justine sniffled. “Losing a child is something you never get over. I feel a terrible ache inside, like a piece of me has been ripped out.” She clapped a hand over her heart. “I yearn to hug my little girl.”
“I’m so sorry.” Marla understood the hollow feeling. She’d seen the agony of Tammy’s parents after the toddler drowned in their backyard pool. As her baby-sitter, Marla had been held accountable, and she’d revisited her private pain many times over. Maybe that was why she’d tried to deny Pam’s existence—because remembering that Pam had died made her recall the small child who never had the chance to grow up.
Her eyes glistening, Marla embraced Justine. “You can hug me. I’m not your daughter, but I promise to remember her. And, Justine, she’d want you to live your life as fully as possible.”
“Thank you, dear,” Justine choked, patting her on the back.
A sense of peace stole over Marla. No longer leery of spending time with the elder couple, she sat with them in the family room. “So tell me about Pam when she was younger,” she said in a gentle tone.
As she listened to their stories, she enjoyed the tentative rapport they’d established and the momentary calm of her life, but she knew the peacefulness wouldn’t last. When Luxor’s crew gathered at her salon the next day, she’d ask some hard-hitting questions. Sooner or later, someone would crack.
Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday afternoon Luxor’s crew entered the Cut ‘N Dye salon in a jovial mood, having received word from Sergeant Masterson that they were free to go in two days’ time.
“Yo, Marla,” Tyler called out, “you hear the news? You’ll finally get rid of us.” He swaggered toward her.
Just finishing her last client, she spritzed the lady’s gray head with a flourish. “I’ll see you next week,” she told the woman, unfastening her cape. “Luis will get your tab up front” After sweeping the hairs off her chair with a blow-dryer, she turned to the area supervisor, whose grin split his face like that of a child who’d been let out to play.
“I know you’re all eager to get back to work in your hometowns,” Marla told him, “but I can’t say I’m happy to see you go.”
Swatting her shoulder, he winked. “Is that your roundabout way of saying you’ll miss me?”
“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of missing Chris and Heather. Someone got rid of them, and I think that person is right here.”
She leaned forward, getting a pleasant whiff of his musk aftershave. “We both know Chris liked you. I understand that she threatened to jeopardize your custody agreement when you turned down her overture. Why do you feel it’s necessary to hide being a father? Are you afraid it’ll ruin your image of the big man around town?”
“Carting a little girl along ain’t gonna get me a whole lot of dates. Women don’t fancy that kind of baggage.”
“Sorry to tell you, pal, but a woman can sense when a guy doesn’t want to commit. Having a child acts as your excuse.”
Tyler scraped a hand through his caramel hair. “Whoa, babe, you’re cuttin’ me.”
She scrutinized his face and noticed the lines tightening his mouth. “Or maybe you’re just too scared to get serious about anyone else. What happened to your wife, Tyler?”
He glanced away. “She left me for some rich accountant dude. Said she wanted a guy who worked in an office, and it embarrassed her to tell people what I did for a living.”
“So how did that make you feel, like you weren’t good marriage material? You shouldn’t let that get you down. If you show what a giving man you can be, the right person will come along who respects your career choice and devotion to your daughter.”
“We have a great relationship. I don’t want to spoil it.”
“You won’t.” She sucked in a breath. “My fiancé and his daughter got along fine before I came along, and I didn’t distract from their relationship. If anything, I’ve added to the family circle. You should be proud that y
ou stuck to your guns and didn’t give in to Chris. It would’ve been easier to yield to her demands in order to protect your child.”
Tyler gave a furtive glance over his shoulder. “Since you’re so interested, I think there’s something you should know. Like, Jan has been depressed lately over her financial situation. She’s got the burden of supporting her mother, who’s ill, plus she’s racked up a hefty credit card debt. I think, like, she’s been taking happy pills lately.”
Marla stiffened. “Antidepressants?”
“Yup. I didn’t want to get in trouble by telling that detective anything, but I don’t mind talking to you. “You’re a cool cat, and you’ll know what to do.” He jabbed two fingers at her. “You’re the bomb, Marla. Thanks for the advice.”
Anytime, Marla thought, eliminating Tyler as one of her prospective assailants. He wouldn’t have been so open if he meant her harm. Turning her attention to Jan, she contemplated the acting director, who kept her problems private. She’d have had the perfect opportunity to switch Christine’s medication if she’d gotten into her boss’s room earlier. When exactly had Jan arrived at the hotel? Could she have dropped into Chris’s suite after her superior went to visit her mother?
Sauntering over to where Jan had plopped into a chair at an empty manicure station, Marla leaned her hip against the counter. “I’ll bet you’re glad to be going home soon. Too bad your time off was taken with police interviews and photo shoots instead of relaxing on the beach. Or did you get in early too, like Chris?”
Jan shot her a shrewd glance. “I arrived Thursday so I’d have time to get organized before our prep meeting on Friday. I had to make sure the models were contacted and our equipment was delivered as ordered.”
“Did you happen to stop by Chris’s room at any time during the day?”
“Hell, no. I was busy.”
“Chris didn’t want to review her directives with you?”
“She went out that afternoon on personal business.”
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