“They're holding everything up. What if somebody trips and falls on the property in the meantime? What if we have to pay property taxes while we're waiting for them to accept their responsibility? The longer the delay, the longer we have to wait for a new tenant to take over.”
Kevin patted her shoulder. “Don't worry, I've dealt with dozens of similar situations before. It'll happen.”
“I hope you're right.” Jill watched him leave and then shut the door. “This is making me sick. Marla, do you have as much aggravation from your rental property?”
“Sometimes, but it's worth the effort in the long run. You could never invest the money from a sale and make the same income.”
“So what?” Arnie jabbed his forefinger at them. “Look at all the trouble it's causing. I say you should sell and be done with it.”
“Torrie didn't want to sell, and neither do I.” Jill sniffled. “We've talked about this. Josh and Lisa could benefit from my inheritance, especially if we enroll them in private school when they're older. That'll cost us over ten thousand dollars per year for each child. I could use your encouragement, Arnie. Instead, you sound like Uncle Eddy.”
“His firm will make plenty of money whatever you and Scott decide. Maybe you should have retained independent counsel.”
“Eddy is giving us a discount.”
“You call five percent a discount? Big deal, when he charges three hundred sixty dollars an hour.”
“I can't talk to you. You won't listen.”
Marla heard voices chattering from the patio. “Is someone else here?” She'd seen more cars than Kevin's.
“A couple of my cousins and a lady from the foster care system where Torrie volunteered her time,” Jill said.
“Interesting. Scott didn't mention Torrie's volunteer work to me when we spoke. His disapproval of Griff Beasley came through loud and clear, though.” Marla tilted her head. “That reminds me, when you get your proofs, could you let me know? I'd love to see them. I might get some ideas I can pass on to our wedding photographer.”
“The prints won't be ready for a few weeks.” Jill's statement confirmed what the photographer's receptionist had told Marla.
The other visitors chose that moment to join them in the living room. After a round of introductions, the gray-haired lady addressed the group.
“I don't know who we'll get to take Torrie's place. She was very devoted to her role as a court-appointed guardian in our foster care program. We need more people like her.”
“What prompted her to get involved?” Marla asked. Understanding the victim's motives could lead to the killer. You never knew which action might trigger an explosion of bottled-up rage in an acquaintance.
“I'm not sure, actually,” the woman said. “She just wanted to do something for the children, maybe because she had none of her own.”
“Are you kidding?” Jill planted her hands on her hips. “That may have been her initial reason, but guilt became her main motivator.”
“Guilt over what? I thought you and Torrie didn't share confidences,” Marla pointed out with a meaningful glare.
Jill's face blanched, and she glanced away.
“Can I get you anything to eat?” Arnie inserted quickly. Serving people food seemed to be his coping mechanism.
“Not me, thanks. Again, please accept my condolences for your loss. I have to go,” the lady said.
“So do we,” chimed in the cousins.
The guests made their farewells, leaving Marla alone with her hosts in the living room.
“So how are your wedding plans going?” Jill asked, after Arnie excused himself to make a phone call. Feeling awkward, Marla perched on the edge of the sofa.
“Oh, gosh, we still have a million things to do.” Marla described their progress and what remained on her to-do list.
“You'll be relieved when it's all over,” Jill reassured her with a wan smile.
“Not really. Then I have the grand opening of my new spa, followed by our move in January. I won't be able to relax until well into spring.”
“Aren't you taking any time off for a honeymoon?”
She shrugged. “We've talked about it. Ma offered to watch Brianna if we want to go away, but we haven't made any plans.”
“I hope we're still able to go on our cruise.”
“Maybe the case will be solved by then.” Marla hesitated. “Torrie's funeral service was lovely. It was similar to a Jewish funeral. There aren't that many differences between the traditions.” Except when the person was cremated instead of buried. She didn't say that aloud.
“Yes, I was surprised Scott had so many good things to say about my sister.” Wringing her hands, Jill studied the floor.
“I think he truly loved her.”
Jill's gaze flew to meet Marla's assessing glance. “Then why was she unhappy? Torrie didn't talk about Scott with any fondness. She always seemed to put him down.”
“He told me she'd have preferred for him to stay in the insurance business. It's my guess he makes less money with his clock shop than he did in his prior job.”
“Money may have been an issue. Or it could be that Scott regarded his timepieces with more affection than his wife.”
Marla tilted her head. “Do you believe Torrie turned elsewhere for attention?”
“Why would you think that?” Jill narrowed her eyes. “Or do you know something I don't?”
I could ask you the same question, pal.
“Hally Leeds was jealous of Torrie. I spoke to the reporter after your wedding, and Hally made it clear she has the hots for Griff Beasley, their freelance photographer. I overheard Torrie and Griff arguing at Orchid Isle. It can't help but make me wonder if they had a thing together.”
“Weren't Torrie and Hally both contenders for a promotion? That's plenty of reason for rivalry.”
“True, but what if Scott thought his wife was carrying on with Griff? Do you think it would make him mad enough to kill her?”
“I'm sure the police are considering that angle.” Jill's fingers plucked at the upholstery.
“Someone murdered your sister.” Her tone hardened. “Haven't you considered who might have done the deed? Or that you might be in danger? What if it's related to this property you both owned?”
“That's absurd.”
“Scott has Torrie's share now. That gives him even more reason to do her in, especially if he's hurting for money.”
“I may not be fond of Scott, but he's too meek to commit an act of violence.”
“Clark Kent hid behind his mild-mannered exterior, too.”
“Come on, what proof do you have?”
“Then again, maybe Hally did it to secure her promotion.” Marla hoped to provoke Jill into revealing her secrets. She could help with damage control before the police took interest.
“You're forgetting about Leanne.” Jill bent her head, strands of blond hair shielding her face.
“Excuse me?”
“Leanne Oakwood, Torrie's friend.” Jill gave her an oblique glance. “Torrie once mentioned how she knew things about the Oakwoods that they wouldn't want to get around.”
“Funny you should say so. When I spoke to Hally, she said your sister kept files on people. I imagine the cops checked her computer, but not before Hally copied the data.”
Jill paled. “What kind of files? Did she have personal stuff in there?”
“Why are you so alarmed? Afraid Torrie took notes on you?” Marla chuckled as though that were a joke, but she studied Jill's reaction.
Jill shot to her feet. “She might have written down things only my family knows, things they promised never to speak of again. Not that Torrie ever let me forget.” Her eye shone with venom. “At least now she can't haunt me with my past mistakes.”
“What does that mean?” Marla's pulse rate spiked. Maybe now she'd get some answers.
She never got a reply. Arnie strode into the room, holding the telephone receiver. “It's for you,” he told Marla, his
tone grim.
Marla jumped up and snatched the instrument. Who would be calling her here? “Hello?”
“I dialed your cell phone,” Dalton's deep voice said, “but you didn't answer.”
Marla regarded her purse on the floor by the armchair. “It's in my handbag. I didn't hear it ring, sorry. What's wrong?”
“Bad news. Hally Leeds is dead. Strangled.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
* * *
Marla drove south on I-95, pondering the news she'd received a mere fifteen minutes ago. She'd blurted the reason for her abrupt departure to Arnie and Jill before storming out the door. She had a long drive ahead and wanted to accomplish her mission so she could proceed with her errands for the day.
Leanne Oakwood had vital information. Marla must talk to the socialite before the police got to her.
A colleague had found Hally's body that morning in the company parking lot, where it appeared she'd been accosted late last night. Marla could think of a number of people who might hold a grudge against the woman.
Gripping the steering wheel, she counted them on her mental list. First there was Rachel, who didn't like that Hally was usurping Torrie's place in terms of a promotion. Or maybe Hally had found out what Torrie and Rachel had been discussing so heatedly at the wedding, if Rachel was indeed the waitress in disguise.
Torrie had known something about Griff Beasley that he didn't want to get out. If Hally knew about it, he could have done her in. But then, who would have bopped him on the head at the Venetian Pool unless he had cracked his own noggin for show? That didn't make any sense, because he'd expected to meet Marla at the Biltmore.
Hally had hinted that the Oakwoods had something to hide. Hence Marla's visit to Leanne, who'd asked her to drop by anyway. Leanne might be able to give her the heads up on Philip Canfield, since she'd recommended the florist for Jill's wedding. Marla also wanted to learn more about Orchid Isle and Falcon's relationship to Eddy Rhodes.
The scenery in Miami passed by in a blur as she sped down the highway toward Coconut Grove. I-95 segued into Route 1 at Biscayne Bay. She followed the signs past Vizcaya and the Museum of Science, taking a winding back road and admiring the overhanging foliage. Tropical trees and hibiscus blossoms graced the villas she passed. According to her directions, she was looking for a gated community off Old Cutler Road.
Having called ahead, Marla got buzzed in by the guard. Then she wound down several streets before reaching her goal. The house turned out to be a two-story structure in a cul-de-sac facing a broad lake. She parked in the driveway of a multi-car garage, pausing a moment after turning off the ignition to admire the brick façade and sloped tile roof. More northern in flavor, the place distinguished itself from its hacienda-style neighbors.
Leanne answered the doorbell, smiling a genuine welcome.
“Marla, how nice of you to visit,” she said in her throaty tone. She wore a teal silk blouse, black slacks, and a jewel-studded belt. Her reddish-brown hair looked fluffed as though she'd blow-dried it that morning. Marla's glance dropped to her fingernails, perfectly manicured with coral polish.
I should look so put together when an unexpected visitor shows up, she thought.
“Hi, Leanne, thanks for seeing me.”
“Come on in. Let's go into the living room. Carla,” she hollered, “my guest is here. Bring us some refreshments, please.”
An acknowledging cry came from what Marla surmised was the kitchen area. Shifting her purse, she followed Leanne into a high-ceilinged room decorated like a northwestern lodge. She couldn't help gaping at the stuffed animal heads on the walls.
“My, you have quite a collection.” She swallowed.
“Falcon enjoys hunting.” Leanne made a moue of distaste. “Me, I'm a member of PETA and I don't eat meat.”
Marla sat in a wing chair while Leanne dropped onto a faux suede couch. “You must have interesting dinner conversations,” Marla remarked.
“Not really. Cornelia doesn't support my views.”
“Cornelia? Isn't that Falcon's mother?”
Leanne didn't answer, tightening her lips when a maid shuffled in bearing a tray. The woman set her burden down on the coffee table, while Marla wondered if she could eat those cut sandwich triangles with a moose head staring at her from above.
“Care for some tea?” Leanne asked, lifting a fine china teapot. “It's lemon grass green tea, organic of course.”
“Yes, thanks.” Marla raised her teacup, yielding to hunger. She thought of the laden table at Arnie's house with regret. All that food would go to spoil if no one ate it.
She made small conversation while chewing on a couple of egg salad sandwiches. “I saw Jill earlier,” she said, after wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. Might as well cut to the quick. “She and Arnie are sitting shivah for three days.”
“How is she?” Leanne's eyes scrunched in sympathy.
Her makeup shone in the bright sunlight streaming in the windows. Blush highlighted her cheeks, a bit too rosy for Marla's taste. With her attractive features, Leanne could get by with a more subtle touch.
“Jill is managing,” Marla answered, “but she'd like to see the case solved, especially since her sister isn't the only victim.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hally Leeds was found dead this morning. You know, she's the reporter who worked with Torrie at Boca Style Magazine.”
“Oh, my God. No, that can't be true.” Leanne clapped a hand to her mouth.
“Maybe the killer thought Torrie had shared information with Hally. Why else would they both be murdered?”
Leanne's wide gaze looked like a deer in headlights. “It could be coincidence. I mean, they don't have any proof linking the two cases, do they?” Her hand trembled as she set her teacup and saucer down with a clatter.
“Probably it's too early to determine if there's a connection.” Clasping her hands together, Marla leaned forward. “Who do you think would have a reason to want them both dead?”
“How would I know? I mean, I can understand Scott wanting to get back at Torrie, or even Hally wanting her post, but this?”
Marla jumped at the opening. “Tell me about Scott. Was he aware that his wife was planning to leave him for Griff Beasley?”
Leanne's jaw dropped. “Where did you hear that?”
“From a private source.”
Leanne glanced over her shoulder, her expression guarded. “Griff worked with both women,” she said in a lowered voice. “You might want to talk to him about it.”
“That could be dangerous. Torrie knew something that he wanted kept underground, didn't she? Did she confide in you, Leanne?”
Her eyes bugged. “You're not implying that he—”
“I have no idea who killed them. That's for the police to determine. I'm just trying to get one step ahead so Jill can move on with her life.”
“She and Torrie disagreed on many issues,” Leanne stated. “Maybe Jill isn't as innocent as she claims. You might want to inquire into her past history before you jump to conclusions.”
“Why, do you know something about her that I don't?”
“It's not for me to say.” She glanced toward the entry.
“How about her Uncle Eddy? Did Torrie tell you about the property issue dividing the sisters? Their uncle is acting as attorney. I understand he was instrumental in your husband acquiring the land for Orchid Isle.”
Leanne leapt up. “If you want to talk to Falcon, he should be downstairs at any moment.”
“Do I hear my name mentioned?” The tall man sauntered into view, dressed in jeans and a sport shirt. His erect posture, confident air, and firm voice gave him an aura of power.
“Hello, Mr. Oakwood. It's nice to see you again.” Standing, Marla stretched out her hand.
He gave her a lukewarm shake and a false smile. “Likewise. What brings you to our neck of the woods?”
“I have some sad news to impart. Hally Leeds is dead.”
“Who?”
“She's a reporter for Boca Style Magazine and a colleague of Torrie Miller's.”
“Oh, yeah, I remember. A redhead, right? She covered our grand opening.” He regarded her from behind his spectacles.
“She and her photographer, Griff Beasley, were there,” Marla reminded him.
“What terrible news. How did it happen?”
“I'm not sure exactly.” Marla watched him carefully. She'd learned from Dalton not to reveal too much information. “Her body was found in the parking lot where she worked.”
“So sad. I only met her that one time, but she did a nice piece on Orchid Isle.” He shook his head, his expression revealing nothing. If that's how he reacted to emotional events, Marla pitied his wife.
“Torrie must have spoken about her colleague to you, Leanne.”
Falcon shot a meaningful glance at Leanne, who stood primly by with her lips thinned. “My wife is still upset over Torrie's death. She has a delicate constitution. Like one of my orchids, heh heh.”
Marla gestured at the moose head. “I gather you like to hunt game as well as rare flowers.”
He stiffened. “It's a hobby. Now if you don't mind, Leanne should rest. Wouldn't want her lovely bloom to fade, you know.”
Clear on her dismissal, Marla wished she could linger to question Falcon about his orchid collections. Not that she would know the difference between an ordinary orchid and a valuable specimen. She should learn more about them.
“That's a lovely flower arrangement,” she commented on her way to the door. An accent table held a crystal vase with a fresh assortment of lilies and other exotics.
“Philip gets the credit,” Leanne remarked in a quiet voice. “He's amazing. The man can get me anything I want.”
Did Marla detect an innuendo in her tone? “He's very talented. I didn't realize he owns a nursery in Davie. He must have been a big help to you, Falcon, when you were drawing up the plans for Orchid Isle.”
Falcon's eyes grew wary. “He made it happen. What Phil can't get from his suppliers, he grows himself. Stop by the park again, when you have time to take a guided walking tour.”
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